The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,3

this. There just had to be.

He went on to spend the weekend researching everything he could about PMV Engineering, the firm that had filed the patent two weeks before the McMillan brothers. PMV consisted of three partners. One had retired and moved to Belize, which—in and of itself—made Josh suspicious. The other two were still active. Andrew Peterman was the second principal, and his son Drew had joined the firm three years prior—suspicious timing, indeed. From the photos Josh had found on the Internet, he made the highly unscientific judgment that the man was cold-blooded enough to set Noah up.

After hours of researching and brainstorming and only six days before the investor pulled out, Josh decided to go to Kansas City to confront the bastards in person. By a stroke of luck, the daughter of the third principal, Bart Vandemeer, was about to get married. Josh figured he could use the distraction to catch them off guard.

Noah thought he was crazy; but then, he would. Despite being four years older, he’d never been as invested in the company. Still, in spite of his skepticism about the last-minute trip, Noah had driven him to the airport. Since the ticket had been purchased at the last minute, Josh had needed to spring for first class. It had cost a fortune, but at least he could have a beer or two and relax on the flight to Kansas City, taking the opportunity to figure out a real plan.

Or at least that’s what he’d thought.

He hadn’t counted on being seated next to the anxious brunette. She was pretty, with long, dark hair that hung past her shoulders and long, slender legs—definitely his type—but within a minute of sitting down, she’d accused him of being a terrorist and made her crash-and-burn comment.

It was going to be a long flight.

Maybe he could get the eager flight attendant to move him to coach.

After they reached cruising altitude, the airline attendant stood, and Josh grabbed her attention, not a hard thing to do since she’d kept her eye on him since before takeoff.

She walked straight toward him with a determined look. “Can I help you, Mr. McMillan?”

“I need a Jack and Coke,” he said, forgoing his planned beer. The woman next to him was already driving him crazy. He was going to need something stronger than a beer to endure her tics.

“Of course. Anything else?” The attendant flashed him a blinding smile. The name tag pinned to her uniform read “Tiffani.” Of course it did.

“I want another mimosa,” the woman next to him said.

The attendant barely acknowledged her order before spinning around to head to the galley.

When she returned, she leaned in closer than necessary to place the woman’s drink on the tray next to him. Then she set a cup of ice along with a can of Coke and a minibar bottle on his tray. “Would you like me to make it for you?”

She was certainly attractive, but she looked too high-maintenance and more his brother’s type. Josh might have been interested in her anyway at a different time, but today he didn’t need the distraction. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

Her smile faltered as she walked away, but while he felt a little bad, there was no sense in leading her on. He was a man on a mission, and his mission currently lacked an accompanying plan.

Josh was fixing his drink when, apropos of nothing, the woman next to him asked, “Do you get along with your mother?”

He turned to her. “My mother?”

“Yeah, you know—” she waved her hand dismissively, “—the woman who raised you.”

He gave her his full attention, still confused. She looked more relaxed now, and he was sure it had something to do with the drink she’d downed before takeoff. “Maybe I was raised by two fathers,” he said, keeping a straight face.

Her eyes widened as though she’d had an epiphany. “Oh. Were you?”

“No.” He couldn’t hide a smirk.

She watched him for a second, and he studied her while he waited. Her big brown eyes weren’t entirely focused. Could she have been drinking before she boarded the plane? She didn’t seem the type, but who knew?

“So do you?” Her thin eyebrows lifted in an exaggerated arch.

“Do I what?” He’d forgotten her question as he watched her shift in her seat. Her light blue skirt hiked up to mid-thigh and stayed there, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Get along with your mother.”

He grinned, surprising himself. “Yes. I love my mother.”

She lifted her glass and the