Page 46 of The Trouble with Runaway Brides

“Don’t I look like I belong in New York?”

Instead of answering me, he says, “So how are things going between you and Lance?”

“Let’s get back to the part where you thought I needed to be alone with him. Were you faking being sick?”

Geoff opens the bathroom door and a billow of steam follows him out. He’s got the robe on now and he sits on the bed with his back against the headboard. “I told him he shouldn’t lie.”

Blake looks at Geoff as though he’s offended. “It was the only way to get her alone with him.”

I lean back and link my fingers together. “Joke is on you. All we’ve done is fight.”

Blake looks back at Geoff and they share a look I can’t interpret.

“What?” I ask.

“You know you only fight with him because you still care,” Blake says softly.

I bolt out of the chair. “Forget this and you. Whatever I had with Lance ended a long time ago. I’m marrying Will. The man I love. Now, I assume you guys aren’t too busy to come pick out my flowers with me?”

“Nope, we’re coming.”

“You are?” I’m surprised I didn’t have to fight them more to join us.

Geoff goes to his suitcase. “Yes, because I’m not letting you have a wedding with just red roses.” He grabs his clothes. “Give us ten minutes to get ready.”

I eye Blake. The man has never gotten ready in ten minutes.

“Okay, a half hour,” Geoff says with a laugh.

“I’ll be downstairs having breakfast.” I walk over to the door and my hand wraps around the doorknob, but I stop before I leave their room. “Thank you, guys. I didn’t realize how much I missed my friends until I got here.”

Two naked chests wrap me up in their arms.

“Oh, Kenzie, we love you,” Blake says.

I relish the warmth of their embrace before going downstairs to the breakfast brunch. But the warmth leaves my body when I spot Lance having breakfast with his dad and his mom.

It would be no other way.

I act as though I don’t see them and fix myself a plate. I’m conservative with my egg whites and only one link of sausage, filling the rest of my plate with fruit. Even though the eggs Benedict look really, really yummy.

I find a table for two, figuring Blake and Geoff won’t be down to join me. It seems silly to take up a bigger table.

“Kenzie,” Mr. Whitmore says, “why don’t you join us?”

Mrs. Whitmore grabs his wrist and he turns to look at her. Her gaze pings from me to him and back to me. She smiles as if I don’t see her trepidation over having me join them. They’re in a four-person booth, and I’ll have no choice but to slide in next to Lance if I agree.

“Oh, it’s okay,” I say.

Mr. Whitmore stands and walks over to my table. “Nonsense. We’re not going to act like strangers.” He picks up my plate and coffee and carries them over to the table.

I quickly gather my silverware and napkin, following him.

Lance slides over and sips his coffee. His tie is thrown over his shoulder and I have no idea why I find that so hot. Will rarely wears a tie because he keeps his top two buttons undone on his dress shirts with jackets.

Mr. Whitmore places the plate in front of me. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay?”

“Very much. I’ve always loved this place.”

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