on the bathroom door after the sounds of the latest round of gut hurling stopped.
“I swear to God, I didn’t give you food poisoning on purpose.” Sure, he was an asshole, but he wasn’t a murdering asshole. “I feel fine.”
Not even a twinge in his stomach, apart from the sympathy gagging whenever Web made puking noises.
“Great,” his brother said through the door. “So because you have the ability to ingest undercooked chicken, then I’m at fault here?”
Fuck. That was not what Will meant. “I followed the recipe and used the meat thermometer. My chicken was cooked all the way through.”
Web let out a long moan that would have sounded made up if he hadn’t spent the past ten minutes puking his guts up behind closed doors. “I’ll be sure to let my lawyers know.”
“Nut up, Web. You’re not going to die.” People didn’t die from slightly undercooked chicken, did they?
“I have a plane to catch tomorrow morning,” Web said, sounding pathetic and weak.
It was like the clouds parted and the sun appeared after a month of rainy days. In a heartbeat, he was smiling big enough to make his cheeks hurt.
“So don’t go.” There, problem solved. He should have poisoned his brother sooner.
“Fuck you, Will. There is a thing called loyalty.” There was more rustling behind the door, like his brother was shifting on the bathroom floor, and then a loud groan. “I promised Hadley I’d be her fake boyfriend at her sister’s wedding so she wouldn’t be so overwhelmed by her relatives. I can’t leave her to face her family alone.”
“What are they, cowboy zombies?”
How in the hell could they be worse than the woman herself? Short answer? They couldn’t be.
“They’re just a lot to take all at once.” The sound of more groans came through the door. “I guess I’ll just suffer through. If this lingers, I’m sure she’ll take care of me. It’ll give her an excuse to hang out alone with me so she can avoid her family. Really, you did her a favor.”
Oh hell no. Abso-fucking-lutely not. Hadley wasn’t going to tighten her hold on Web even more by being the one to nurse him back to health.
“I’ll take your place.” The words were out of Will’s mouth before his brain caught up.
“No way,” Web said, not sounding half as horrified as his words promised—no doubt he was trying not to throw up again. “You cannot be serious. And it’s not like you can stay away from being the always-in-control CEO for a whole week.”
“Why not? We used to switch spots all the time. And believe it or not, I can loosen my grip on Holt Enterprises for five days. The company won’t fall apart in a week, and it’ll give you a chance to recover from the food poisoning.” And it’d give him a chance to break whatever spell Hadley had over his brother. He was a fucking genius.
“It’s a crazy idea.”
That’s where his baby brother was wrong. So very wrong.
Chapter Three
For Hadley, the temptation to hide out right here in the Denver airport rather than go home to the family ranch was pretty overwhelming.
It wasn’t that she didn’t love her family—she did—but being around all of them at the same time under the not-stressful-at-all (sarcasm alert) conditions of her little sister’s wedding could shake the strongest of women. They’d want to do everything together, from making breakfast in the morning to brushing teeth at night—okay, maybe not the last part, but family togetherness and the ranching way was pretty much her family’s motto. Simply put, Hadley’s family was exhausting, and they would all be there for the festivities leading up to her sister’s big day.
All.
Of.
Them.
Every single person, from all of twenty billion branches sprouting from the Donavan-Martinez family tree, would be at the wedding. More than that, most of them would be staying at the ranch. It would be wall-to-wall Donavans, Martinezes, and Donavan-Martinezes until the cows came home.
All of that meant that the family-mandatory-fun-time-togetherness was going to be at epic levels, leading up to Adalyn’s wedding in a week. If it wasn’t for how much she loved her baby sister and wanted to see her say “I do,” Hadley would definitely be saying “I don’t” to a full week wrapped in her family’s well-meaning but claustrophobic embrace.
Her phone vibrated in her cross-body purse as she pulled up short to avoid getting run over by a group of people rushing toward the TSA line. She pulled it out and hit Talk, keeping her