“Thanks, Lennon.” Aspen launches herself over the bar and kisses him on the cheek.
“I like you, Aspen Cloud West. Even if you are marrying the po-po.”
She shrugs. “I loved Lyric before he became the po-po.”
“Po-po schmo-po. Lyric won’t arrest any of us.” Ashlyn dismisses the idea with a wave of her hand.
“Are you making up words again?” I ask her.
“It’s not made-up if it rhymes.”
“And I will arrest any West girl who steals the vehicular beacon from the police and then parades up and down Main Street wearing it for a hat while singing I shot the sheriff,” Lyric declares as he joins us.
Ashlyn bats her eyelashes. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Chief.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s on YouTube.”
“Really? How many hits did I get?” She clears her throat. “I meant how many hits did it get?”
“What are you doing here?” Aspen asks before Lyric can answer Ashlyn. Her eyes widen when she notices the men gathered behind him. “What are all of you doing here?”
“You demanded I have my bachelor party the same night as your bachelorette’s party. Where did you think we’d go?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. You could play poker at the house or have Mr. Moneybags fly you to New York City.”
“Which one is Mr. Moneybags?” Cole asks.
She waves her hand vaguely toward Rowan, Maverick, and Beckett. “Any one of them will do.”
I assume she’s referring to Maverick or Rowan but when Beckett doesn’t contradict her assumption, I study him. While it’s true he’s a CEO of a company, Clean Mountain Environment isn’t especially big or prominent. I’m certain he makes a good wage, but moneybags implies a vast amount of wealth.
“Are you wealthy?” I ask him.
He coughs. “Um, what?”
“Are you wealthy?” I repeat, although he obviously heard my question the first time.
“Would it bother you if I were?”
“No, but why does Aspen know, and I don’t?” I respond and wonder why he evaded my question.
Aspen snorts. “Have you seen his car? It retails at 200,000 dollars.”
Cole ribs Maverick. “How much does your car cost?”
“Stop!” Ashlyn pushes her way into the middle of the group. “We can’t decide who’s the richest based on cars.”
“Why not?” Juniper asks as she joins the party. “Because Rowan doesn’t own a car?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“I vote we stop talking about money since it’s vulgar,” Ellery suggests, and I nod.
“Good idea. I believe we’re here to celebrate with the future bride.” My brow wrinkles. “And the future groom? I’m uncertain what’s happening here.”
Beckett tags my hand and pulls me near before kissing my forehead. “Hello, honey,” he whispers against my hair, and I melt into him.
I smile up at him. “Hi.”