Page 66 of Bruised MC Bear

“Don’t worry. I’m just glad you could make it from Siberia to be here.”

“Bulgaria, but whatever. The spa sounds perfect. I still can’t believe it, hun. I’m so happy your wedding day is almost here!”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that, hun. I know I was adamant about having this ceremony on Halloween—”

“And on a full moon, hun. In Vegas, no less.”

“Yeah. It’s just the weekend means a lot to me … you know … with Dad.”

“No need to explain, love,” I told her, already hearing the sadness in her voice. She had lost her father just days before Halloween when she was only five. That was the only year we didn’t go trick or treating. Every Halloween after that sad day was more of a memorial to his memory.

“Thanks, hun… If it’s any consolation, Axe is more anxious about it than you.”

“I’d bet. We need to make sure no one shifts by accident tomorrow is all. Sure, it’s Halloween, but hell, a pack of bears roaming the Strip with a few humans and a lone wolf, let’s just say it does not make for convincing costumes.”

She chuckled, and I could picture her smiling face from the gregarious sound. “Maybe I’ll dress like a circus animal tamer, complete with a whip and one of those unicycles for Axe to ride.”

“Good God, no,” I laughed. “That won’t go over well, not even in Vegas.”

“True. I believe Axe can keep his guys in check. Everyone I invited is human … well, everyone except you and a few others.”

“Right. Well, for the record, I’m sorry I complained when we spoke a couple of weeks ago. It’s your special day, and I’m honored you picked me to be a part of it.”

“Thank, love. Okay, I’d better get your details over to Vincent. Look for his call or text in a few.”

“Will do. See you in a bit.”

“I can’t wait to see you, Sonya.”

Hanging up, I rejoined the surge of airplane commuters and wheeled my carry-on suitcase toward US customs and immigration. My phone buzzed with a phone call from an unknown number while I was in the US immigration line.

“Hello?” I whispered. I turned away from the agent walking beside the lineup outside the cordoned off area where I stood. I couldn’t let him see me. There were large “No Cell Phones” signs on every wall I could see, so I was sure if someone noticed me on my cell I’d end up getting in some kind of trouble. Never mind that I’d flown in from Bulgaria and was already a prime candidate for a random body cavity search.

“Hello,” said a man’s voice I didn’t recognize. I assumed it was Axe’s friend. “This is Vincent. Is this Sonya?”

“It is, but I can’t talk at the moment. Just getting through customs. Can you text me?”

“Completely understood, and no problem at all. Will do.”

He hung up, and the smooth, baritone timber of his voice still echoed in my head. This was a friend of Axe? I had to wonder how a die-hard, patch-wearing motorcycle club member—and bear shifter—was friends with a wealthy, refined hotel magnate. This was sure to be one interesting wedding.

By the time Vincent sent me his first text, I was waiting with a trolley beside the baggage carousels, hoping that my four suitcases and rugged bicycle travel case all made the trip safely.

“Hi again. It’s Vincent.”

“Hello. I’m at the baggage carousel in Terminal 3. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Okay.”

Two of my suitcases rolled around just then, and as I dragged them off, I remembered that Angel probably didn’t mention how many bags I had.

“I have a bit of a luggage situation.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I have a lot of suitcases. Like, a whole lot.”

I caught sight of the bike case and ran around to grab it. My two other bags came out right after.