Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“No way,” they say in unison.
“I’ll take it,” Dev says.
“I’m sure we can get a rollaway bed,” Ledger counters.
“When was the last time you saw one of those in a hotel?” Dev asks his friend, clearly skeptical.
“When was the last time you saw one?” Ledger fires back.
“On TV,” Dev says. “Some Christmas movie where there was, gee, only one room at the inn.”
“You and your Christmas movies,” Ledger says as the elevator chugs slowly. “I’m pretty sure in real life hotels offer rollaway beds and stuff.”
“They do,” Dev says, acknowledging Ledger’s point. “But when was the last time you slept on one?”
Ledger seems like he’s about to answer but his brow knits, as if maybe he’s trying to remember if he has conked out on one lately.
“Exactly,” Dev adds quickly. “It’s been a while. They’re hell on backs. Like in the movie when the rollaway bed was fuck-all uncomfortable. You want to wake up with your back trying to murder you?”
Ledger huffs but finally concedes, grumbling out a “no.”
Which means we’re back to square one. My heart speeds up uncomfortably. I’ve got to find a solution. But I don’t know how to fix this conundrum.
Maybe Ledger has an ace up his sleeve, though, because he waggles his phone. “But here’s another idea. I’ll just find the nearest Walmart and get an air mattress.” He barks into the device. “Google, where is the nearest Walmart?”
Spoiler alert: it’s not going to be close. But I’ll let him find that out on his own.
Ledger’s phone is cheery with its reply: “The nearest Walmart is thirty miles away. Two hours by car and ferry.”
Undeterred, Ledger asks again, “Google, where is the nearest camping supply store?”
This is going so badly. No matter how uncomfortable this whole situation is, I can’t let them go buy an air mattress to solve this problem.
Another upbeat response comes as the elevator slows: “The nearest camping supply store is four miles away.”
“Guys,” I say as we reach the fourth floor. “There’s no need for an air mattress. I’ll just get a tent at the camping store.”
Dev’s brow crinkles, and the furrow is adorable. Ledger’s lips part, but he’s speechless. Their double confusion over who’s getting what at the camping store is too cute—and precisely what I’d hoped for. This isn’t my first defuse-the-tension rodeo. “I’ll set it up outside. I’ve always wanted to sleep under the stars. It was actually on my adventure list for the honeymoon,” I say as I wheel my suitcase off the elevator, pretending like I really will pitch a tent to fix the situation.
Ledger growls. “You’re not sleeping in a tent, Aubrey.”
Dev nods fiercely. “You’re going to sleep in a big, comfy bed. We’re not letting you have anything but the honeymoon you deserve.”
But they deserve a good trip too. When we reach the room, I stop outside the door, turn to them, and lay down the rules. “Harry said it was a big bed. We’re friends. We’ll just share it as friends. It’ll be great.”
There. Sometimes a girl has to take charge and issue a bed proclamation.
Ledger swallows roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Gruffly, he says, “It’ll be fine.”
True to his fun-loving nature, Dev gives an easy shrug. “I don’t move when I sleep, so I’m basically the best bed companion in the history of the world.”
A laugh bursts from Ledger. “There’s nothing you can’t turn into a pat on the back, is there?”
Dev’s smile is pure devil as he says, “Nope.”
He unlocks the door, opens it, and without giving a girl a warning, he scoops me up in his arms for the second time in as many days. His eyes meet mine, glimmering playfully as he says, “Let’s carry the bride over the threshold.”
My stomach flips.
Ledger RSVPs to Dev’s invitation without a second thought. “Yeah, let’s do it,” he says as he moves next to him and slides his strong arms under my calves.
I don’t need them both to carry me together. Hell, I don’t need a man to carry me, period.
But they seem to want to.
Together, they carry me into the room, and I try not to think about how good it feels to be in their arms.
17
THE CURSE OF AN ASS MAN
Ledger
There are fucking rose petals on the bed. To make matters worse, they’re strewn into the shape of a giant heart. The second Aubrey steps into the bedroom of the suite, she lays eyes on them, then groans out a long and plaintive, “Seriously? Seriously?”
We’re right behind her in the doorway. I turn to Dev, feeling a little helpless. Is it the roses, the bed, or the whole damn suite? Or the reminder of what could have been?
She drops her head into her hand.
Ah, hell. Maybe she’s sad again. Or, more likely, maybe she’s going to beat herself up once more for almost marrying that turd bucket.