CHAPTER ONE
Kaylee
The sun islow in the sky when I arrive at The Anchor Oasis in Key West, painting the normal light blue hue in shades of orange, pink, and purple. It’s a breathtaking backdrop for the all-inclusive resort where I will spend the next four days celebrating my cousin’s wedding. Ashley insisted on planning this whole event herself. I’m a corporate event planner with my best friend and partner, Rainey Dare, and I know enough that I offered to help take some of the burden off Ashley’s shoulders. She declined, and I respect her decision. I’ll have enough going on this weekend with my maid-of-honor responsibilities, anyway.
My hand drifts into my purse, and I assure myself the two ring boxes are exactly where they’re supposed to be. At the last minute, Ashley and her fiancé decided to have their rings engraved with their initials and the wedding date, so my first official duty for the weekend was to pick them up from the jeweler and bring them with me today. It’s not the most complicated task, but its importance has weighed on me ever since I placed them in my handbag.
I’m not deliberately forgetful. I was diagnosed with ADD at seventeen, just before graduation. Too late for high school but in time to help me navigate college.
Rainey never cared. She went into business with me because she knew I could handle things, and I do. I have an assistant who keeps me organized during events when I might otherwise spin out and forget something important.
Pulling up to the valet station, I grab my suitcase out of the trunk of my car and the garment bag from the back seat. I hand over my keys and stroll into the lobby, my heels clicking against the mosaic ocean-colored tile in various shades of blue. Around me, there are tons of people milling about, some of them dragging suitcases on wheels like me, ready to check in, and others are grouped together as they talk.
I join a line in front of the reception desk, where two people are checking in guests, and glance around the lobby, looking to see if I spot anyone I know. Only family members and the wedding party are arriving today. Guests will show up tomorrow evening. I don’t recognize anyone, so I turn to face forward, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of the man in front of me.
Tristan Hayes, co-owner of Midnight, an upscale nightclub in Downtown Miami with his business partners, Lucas Carras, Rainey’s fiancé, and Jack Dare, Rainey’s brother. Thanks to our very small world, Tristan is also in the bridal party this weekend. I’m here for the bride’s side while he’s here for the groom, his high school friend with whom he remains close.
In truth, Tristan is the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Muscular with the physique of an athlete, he’s probably over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an aura of composure that’s extremely alluring. I can’t help but admire his side view: the chiseled jaw, perfectly straight nose, and long, dark eyelashes that frame hazel eyes I don’t have to see to envision. His hair is a deep shade of brown, trimmed short on the sides and left longer on top where it’s styled purposefully messy. His entire appearance gives off an effortlessly sexy look in a way that grabs a woman’s attention.
He’s always had mine.
As if sensing my stare, Tristan turns, his gaze meeting mine. A smile curls his lips, showing off perfectly straight, white teeth,and my pulse skips a beat. “Hey, Kaylee. I thoughtI’dbe the last one to arrive.”
I chuckle. “I guess that honor belongs to me. Unless someone else shows up fashionably late.” Chronic lateness is one of my flaws, at least according to my ex-boyfriend, Mark, who is also in the bridal party since he’s cousins with the groom. Aware of my tendency to not be on time, I set my alarm back fifteen minutes for anything work related, but when it comes to my personal life, I’m more relaxed. I push aside thoughts of my ex being here this weekend. I’ll deal with him when I have to.
The line moves, so Tristan turns and steps forward, then pivots to face me again.
“How’s the club these days?” I ask, making conversation.
Though I visit Midnight with Rainey on occasion, Tristan and I are not what I’d call friends. We don’t know each other well enough for that. But ever since we met, he stars in my fantasies in a way that has me flushing now. He falls undersecret crush. Only Rainey knows my true feelings about him and she’d never share with anyone, including her fiancé.
“It’s busier than ever,” he says. “It was hard for Lucas and I both to get away this weekend, with Jack still in Charleston.”
“Midnight’s new location, right?” I’ve never been to South Carolina.
He nods, his gaze straying across the lobby. I turn to see Ashley and Eric locked in an embrace that turns into one very hot kiss.
“Aah, the bride and groom. Those two are sickeningly sweet,” he says, but the warmth in his eyes tells me he’s not being rude. Just honest.
“Are you here with…” I tap my foot as I try to remember the name of his girlfriend. I think it started with an A. “Annabelle?”
Tristan’s grin grows wider, and I have to blink and break eye contact so I don’t melt into a puddle at his feet. He’s too good-looking for his own good.
“You mean Annika?” He laughs out loud.
I flush with embarrassment. “Right, Annika. Sorry. Is she here with you?” I ask, mentally crossing my fingers he’s here alone. At least I won’t be the only one.
“No, we broke up.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “We just weren’t a good fit. It’s easier to be single,” he says with a wink meant to charm me. And it works.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”No, I’m not.But I push that thought away. No matter how alluring he is, I have no intention of acting on my desire for the man.
Tristan and I want very different things out of life. I’m a ‘committed relationship’ kind of girl, whereas he’s a ‘new woman on his arm every week’ type of guy. Knowing that, I ogle him but have no expectations, nor have I ever tried to capture his attention. I was in a serious relationship when we met, so I ignored my attraction, which was easy enough since we only saw each other on occasional group events or when I go to the club with Rainey for a night out.
It’s been a while since I saw him last. A few months ago, we were celebrating my company Golden Palm Events’s completion of a big project for the Miami Thunder, an NFL team’s anniversary bash that Rainey took the lead on. Tristan’s girlfriend at the time, a leggy blonde, Annika, with no interest in anyone but herself, spent the whole evening with her face buried in her phone and barely said two words to any of us.
“What about you? Are you alone?” he asks.
“Not intentionally. I had a date but he’s sick, so I’m flying solo this weekend, too.” Maybe we can hang out together. Unless he picks up one of Ashley’s pretty friends. I try not to frown at that thought.
