Page 32 of The Worst Best Man

“Yeah, but between the road and the beach is like a jungle. Trees, bushes, no lights,” Antonio grinned.

“And if the gate is guarded and the beach is guarded, no one will be looking in the jungle,” Frankie said triumphantly.

“Exactly. Hang on, guys.” Antonio floored the old van past the hotel gate as if he were a man on a mission.

“Slow down, desperado,” Frankie yelled.

“If we go by all slow and pokey, they’re gonna get suspicious.”

Aiden laughed softly.

“I’m going to let you out down here, further away from the hotel in case you make a lot of noise climbing the wall.”

“Let’s do this.” Frankie wedged her feet into her incredibly impractical wedding heels. She hoped the jungle was more of a neatly trimmed landscape that she wouldn’t break both ankles exploring.

Aiden eyed her in the dark interior of the van. “Maybe you should stay put. Let me go find Chip.”

“Please. Like I’m going to let you go in there alone. Besides, a couple dressed for a wedding will be a hell of a lot less suspicious than James Friggin’ Bond wandering up the beach in a tux. You’re not leaving me.”

He looked like he wanted to argue further but wisely shut his mouth when Antonio swerved across the road and pulled up to the curb. “Good luck, guys.”

Aiden pulled out another bill from his billfold. “You’ve been immeasurably helpful tonight, Antonio.”

The kid pocketed the money cheerfully. “If you get caught, don’t mention my name.”

Frankie threw him a salute as she stepped out the door. “Thanks, kid.”

“Here’s my card.” Antonio shoved a business card out the window at her. “Call me anytime you need anything.”

Frankie took it and tucked it into her clutch. “That kid is either going to end up running a drug cartel or a small country someday,” she predicted as she watched the taillights recede in the dark.

“Uh-huh,” Aiden said, noncommittally. “How good are you at climbing walls?”

It turned out not very. She ended up needing a boost from Aiden, whose hand lingered a lot longer than necessary on her ass. But in the end, she made it up and over, landing hard enough to knock the wind out of her. The sound of snagging chiffon on the way down made her wince. She was still gasping for breath when Aiden nimbly landed beside her, her shoes in his hand.

“You okay?” he asked, pulling her to her feet.

“Fine. Totally fine,” she wheezed. She stepped away from the flowering shrub she’d flattened with her comical landing and brushed the dirt off of the skirt of her dress. She’d felt the fabric tear as she flopped over the wall graceful as a humpback whale and hoped she hadn’t done any real damage. Pru would kill her… if there was a wedding to be killed over. “Crap! I tore the skirt. It’s okay. I can fix it.”

“Come on,” Aiden whispered. He grabbed her hand and led the way into the dark.

Frankie couldn’t see shit. But Aiden seemed to have night vision, pulling her through the vegetation and around trees in the scant moonlight. The peepers chirped in a loud, never-ending serenade to the night. The air was thick with exotic fragrances. Aiden’s feet were sure beneath him while she tripped over roots and branches and god knew what that weird squishy thing was. All that she could see was the broad shadow of Aiden’s shoulders in front of her as he towed her through the forest.

They were getting closer to the ocean. She could hear the waves, taste the tang of salt on the air. Aiden stopped in front of her and she walked into his broad back.

She heard the far-off beat of club music.

Up ahead, through leafy palm fronds and a smattering of moonlight, Frankie could see lights. Purple and silver flashes seemed to pulse to the thrumming beat of music. Someone had brought L.A.’s hottest club to paradise or at least a very expensive DJ to an heiress’s second wedding.

“I think we’ve found the party,” Aiden said quietly.

“Okay, so what are we supposed to do?” Frankie asked. “Roll up out of the shrubs and order a round of shots?”

“Tequila or whiskey?” he asked.

“Tequila is always the answer.”

“Let’s try to get a little closer,” Aiden said. “Then we’ll discuss our bar order.”