At early o'clock in the morning, a thumping at the door had me dragging myself off the surprisingly comfortable couch to open the door. I wish I'd had a camera because the look on Killian's face when I opened the door in my boxers was priceless.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked, peering around me like he was looking for the cameras for the prank show.

"Frankie let me crash here last night when they screwed up my reservation." I stepped out of the way, so he could come inside. He had a garment bag in his hand that he hung up on the hook behind the door.

"Frankie? As in Francesca Archer? Went to high school with us? This high?" he asked, holding his hand up to his forehead.

I nodded through each question, laughing and rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"Yes, that Francesca." I walked back to the couch, plopped down, and rummaged through my bag for a t-shirt.

"You two weren't at each other's throats last night, but I thought maybe it was only because you were tired or something."

"Nope. New leaf and all that."

"Wow, had I known getting married was all it would take to get you two to be civil to one another, I'd have done it a hell of a lot sooner."

I raised an eyebrow and shot a look at him, and it was his turn to laugh.

"Fine, you're right. Wouldn't have happened."

"Wouldn't have happened. And you're one to talk about old grudges dissolving pretty much overnight. One minute you're dead set on destroying Rhys Thayer and the next minute, you're ready to give up everything for Rachel. I never thought I'd see the day when you didn't have it out for him."

He squeezed the back of his neck and slid into one of the high-back chairs opposite the couch. "You're right. I have no room to talk about shit like that."

I found a t-shirt and slid it on.

"What did you guys do after the rehearsal dinner?" He was trying to keep it casual, but I heard the edge to his voice.

"Came back here and went to sleep. It was a lot of driving yesterday."

We both glanced up at the thump from the doorway as Frankie stumbled out of the bedroom in a white tank top and boxers. Her hair stuck up in every direction. My laugh caught in my throat, and I averted my eyes away from what I swear was the outline of her nipples through the top.

"Morning, Franks. Ready for the big day?" Killian asked.

"Isn't that supposed to be my line to you?" She yawned and stretched her arms overhead. Her top rode up, showing off a sliver of skin just above the boxers. I'd never seen a more delectable bit of skin in my life.

I bit back the urge to run my finger along it as I sat straight forward on the couch. She came around, and I watched her out of the corner of my eye. It wasn't until they both stared at me that I realized I'd missed something.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you called down for coffee." Frankie said, trying and failing to hold back another yawn and dropping into the other high-back chair opposite Killian. She tucked her feet under her butt, so all I saw was the long expanse of leg. I took note of the high socks and the bands around her wrists, like thick hair bands she'd use to pull up a ponytail.

"No, I figured we'd go down and get some."

"It's okay. I'll call down for some. What time does Rachel want me over there?" Frankie asked, picking up the phone on the table between the two chairs.

"I have no idea, but her whole entourage is over there now, so it's probably soon."

Frankie ordered the coffee and a little bit of breakfast to go along with it.

"Anyone want anything else?" she asked, covering the receiver.

"I'm good," Killian said, running his hands over his face. She turned to me.

"John?"

"Whatever you get is good with me."

She ended the call and fought to keep her eyes open.

"There is a makeup person, hair person, and about ten other people crammed into that suite. It's like Paris Fashion Week. Dahlia keeps grumbling about not wanting anyone to touch her. She’s battling jet lag, since she got in from LA. If she doesn't go running from the room before the wedding, it will be a miracle. I'm hoping, as the maid of honor, she'll be able to stomach the primping and preening."

Frankie had her head resting on her fist with her eyes drooping lower by the second. Her long, thick eyelashes fluttered up and down as she tried to wake up. Killian leaned forward and motioned between me and Frankie. I shook my head. The look he gave me meant he wasn't going to let this drop.

"I love Rachel, but all those bridesmaids scare me. Well, except for Dahlia. She's cool, but all those other chicks... maybe Dahlia and I can hide away in a closet somewhere,” Frankie said.

"That's what I'd do. Most are cousins her well-meaning mother made her ask to be bridesmaids. I'm sure you'll be saving her by going over there. There's only so many squealing women Dahlia can fend off," Killian said, chuckling.

Frankie banged her head against the back of the chair. "Not my idea of fun. At least my phone is charged, and I can catch up on some shows while they fawn over whose nails are the prettiest."

"Preaching to the choir." Killian said, closing his eyes. We all sat in a daze until the coffee arrived. Only then did we all begin to reanimate like zombies in search of fresh meat.

She wrapped her hands around one of the mugs and savored the smell of the coffee. I poured myself a cup and watched her as she picked apart a croissant. Watching her licking the flaky pastry off her fingers, I nearly groaned out loud.

The little sounds of appreciation she made as she ate threatened to make me burst out of my boxers. Why did she have to eat it like that? Like she was trying to drive me insane. I was so engrossed in watching her eat, I hadn't noticed Killian staring at me until he cleared his throat. Frankie glanced over at him, and I sloshed my piping-hot coffee onto my hand.

"Shit," I said, shaking the hot liquid off my hand. Frankie hopped up and grabbed a white cloth napkin off the cart and pressed it to my hand. Killian's eyebrows went up sky high.

"You okay, John?" she asked, lifting it off me and checking my hand.

"I'm fine. No worries." I said, taking the napkin from her. "I've got it." She checked the time and cursed under her breath.

"I'm going to go get my dress and head out. I'll be back in a second."

She rushed out of the living room and into the bedroom. Killian had me in a death stare the entire time she was gone. I rolled my eyes at the grilling I knew was coming the minute she left the room.

Frankie came out of the bedroom wearing some silky pajamas bottoms and a t-shirt with ‘Bride Tribe’ scrawled across it. She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders with her dress in hand and enough electronics to power a small TV studio.

"Don’t.Say.A.Word.” she said, daring either one of us to say something. We held our hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, I'm out of here. I'll see you guys later and meet you to begin co-best manning duties." She smiled at me, and I fought the urge to reach out and trace my finger along her arm as she passed.

"Godspeed, Franks." Killian said from behind me. She glanced back at us and gave a little wave before disappearing out the door. The second the door closed, Killian's laser-like stare was on me.

"What's going on?"

"I told you. They screwed up my reservation. Frankie was gracious enough to share her suite with me, since the hotel comped her the upgrade. That's it. We came up. I slept on the couch. The end."

"You and I both know it's never, 'the end' when it comes to you and her." He grabbed another cup of coffee from the cart. "There are little looks and things happening here. A tension between you—and not that normal kind where I have to worry about ringing the bell and sending you both back to your corners."

"I don't know what to tell you, Kill. We came back. We went to sleep, and you woke us up with your pounding on the door."

He stared at me intently, but I didn't squirm under his gaze. He didn't know about that out of left field hug she'd laid on me. How I'd wanted nothing more than to press her up against the wall and run my lips against her skin until she couldn't take it anymore and begged me to fuck her. He didn't need to know about the length of soft, silky rope I'd buried way down deep in my bag because I was an idiot, and on the off chance my plans to win her over this weekend progressed even further than my wildest dreams. No, he didn't need to know any of that.

"I was the one on the receiving end of all your calls and texts after whatever-it-was that happened with you two back in high school."

"Yes, you were. And it was you who told me in not-so-subtle words that I'd better never go near her again. You're the one who's always warning me away from her. I'd have gone for it if you hadn't blocked me at every turn."

"I'm just surprised after everything that went down in high school, and the calls and texts I was getting from the two of you, that you'd be so cozy this weekend after all this time. I've tried to get you two to hash it out, rip off the Band-Aid, but you were both so tight-lipped about everything. Then I just gave up. Figured it would be better if you stayed away from each other. And now you're riding in cars together. Sharing hotel rooms. You've got little inside jokes."

"I don't know what to tell you," I said, shrugging. Her family hadn’t even tried to grill me like Killian was.

"I don't want to see her get hurt." He dropped his interrogation mode and the concern for her shined through. And it pissed me off. What exactly did he think I was going to do to her? How did he think I was going to fuck this up?

"You mean Madam Ballbuster? Frankie is a shit-ton stronger than you give her credit for."

"Oh really?" He took a sip.

"Yes. She is, and I don't know how she'd feel knowing you were trying to run part of her life for her."

"You know what? You're right. Since I'm turning over so many new leaves in my life, I'm finished standing between you and Frankie. She can make her own choices. But know this, Grim. If you hurt her again...if you screw this up, I'm going to kick your ass." He put both his hands on the cart in front of him and glared at me.

"I'd expect nothing less."

He nodded sharply before guzzling down his coffee. The morning was a lot less hectic than I’d anticipated. The worst part was dodging every question he had about the speech. I hadn't written it yet, so sue me. It would come to me. I could pull it off.

The photographer came and got some shots of us getting ready. Why anyone would want pictures of us tying our ties was beyond me, but I was there to do as I was told.

I triple-checked that I had the rings, and we headed down to the ceremony. A small thrill shot through me as I thought about what Frankie would look like in her dress. It was a treat that didn't happen often, so twice in one weekend...I was going to savor every moment I got to drink her in.