To Have And To Hold: The Wedding Belles Book 1 (2 page)

First shout-out goes to Elana Cohen, who had faith in this book from the very beginning and worked her butt off to ensure that it lived up to its potential. I owe so much to her, as do Seth and Brooke, whose romance sparkles all the more because of her guidance.

To the rest of the fantastic team at Pocket, you guys are absolutely exceptional and deserve a long slow-clap. From the breathtaking cover to the precise
editing and proofreading, you guys are absolutely responsible for turning a writing dream into a beautiful book.

I also need to say a huge public thank-you to my dear friend, Kristi Yanta, for her exceptional beta-reading services. Nobody knows my writing and understands my vision for each book quite like Kristi, and I’m so lucky to have her stick by my side through multiple publishers and multiple series, ensuring that each LL story is the best it can be.

And finally, to my “behind the scenes” crew: my amazing assistant, Lisa; my Twitter guru, Kristina; and my daily (online) writing companions, Jessica Lemmon and Rachel Van Dyken—you guys make my job easier and more fun.

H
OLD ON.
B
ACK UP.
Back all the way up. What do you mean you’re getting
married
?”

It was eleven p.m. on a Wednesday, and Seth Tyler was exactly where he always was these days: behind his expansive mahogany desk at the Tyler Hotel Group, suit jacket slung over the back of his ergonomic chair, tie begging to be undone, impeccably pressed white shirt cuffed at the wrists.

He raked a hand through his thick light brown hair in frustration and fixed his younger sister with his best no-nonsense glare, an approximation—like everything else he seemed to do lately—of his deceased father.

When Seth’s father dropped dead of a heart attack eight months ago, Seth had thought the hardest part about his father’s passing—other than the mourning, of course—would be taking over the family company.

Sure, Seth had been groomed for the role. He’d wanted the president and CEO title. He’d always wanted it.

Eventually.

But
not yet, for God’s sake.

Seth had no problem admitting that he was a perfectionist, and he’d been bound and determined to take over the family company
his
way. The right way.

And the right way, as Seth had determined it, was spending at least a year shadowing each of the senior-level Tyler Hotel Group executives. Seth had wanted to learn every possible detail, every in and out of the business, before even thinking about taking over the reins of the Fortune 500 company.

But his father’s heart had had other plans. Mainly, up and quitting during a routine round of golf. And so, quietly, per his father’s wishes, Seth had become CEO two years ahead of schedule.

Not a day passed that Seth didn’t wish his father were still with him, but in truth, taking his place at the head of the boardroom table had been easier than Seth had anticipated. The investors hadn’t freaked out. The executive team hadn’t left in mass exodus. Even Hank’s longtime assistant, Etta, had stuck around, seemingly content to call Seth boss even as she busted his balls about not eating enough vegetables, getting enough sleep, or getting his hair cut.

But if taking over the family company was easier than Seth had expected, there was one ramification of Hank Tyler’s death that Seth hadn’t been in the least prepared for:

A wedding.

Maya Tyler inhaled a long, patient breath, as though preparing to deal with a difficult child. “Well
see, marriage, Seth, is when two people fall in love and decide to spend the rest of their lives—”

“Yes, I’m aware of how marriage works,” Seth interrupted. Although, not as aware as he’d like, as it turned out. He wouldn’t be getting any firsthand knowledge of how marriage worked anytime soon.

Maya bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of Nadia.”

Seth glanced down at his desk to avoid his sister’s too-perceptive gaze. She wasn’t wrong. He’d gotten to the point where he could go most days without thinking of his ex, but he hadn’t yet figured out how to think about marriage without hearing the incredulous laugh she’d let out when he’d gone on one knee and showed Nadia the ring he’d spent months picking out.

“Can we not?” he said curtly.

“Don’t get pissed. It’s a wedding. You’re supposed to be happy.”

“I’m not pissed; I’m just surprised.”

That was an understatement. Seth had
not
seen this coming, and for a man who exercised precision in all things, he couldn’t say he was enjoying the shock value of Maya’s announcement. Especially not on the heels of his father’s death. A death that everyone but Seth had seen coming, because Seth had been the lone outsider on the knowledge that was his father’s longtime heart condition.

Apparently, Hank had considered his only son a control freak—had known that Seth would have stopped at nothing to try to halt death in its tracks.

His father had been, well,
right
. It was hard to admit, but if Seth had known about his father’s
condition, he’d have devoted every waking hour to researching experimental treatments and the best doctors.

Hank Tyler hadn’t wanted that for his final months. Not for himself
or
for Seth.

Still, Seth resented not having the choice. Resented his father
nearly
as much as he missed him.

But he’d put that behind him. Mostly.

Hank was gone, and Maya was still here. Maya was all he had.

He had known she was dating a new guy—Neil something or other. But Seth hadn’t thought a thing about it. Maya had whipped through a constant string of casual boyfriends since high school, and other than a two-year relationship in college, they had never been serious.

And it certainly hadn’t gotten close to marriage.

What’s worse, Seth hadn’t even met this man that was apparently to be his brother-in-law.

But none of this would have mattered, not really, if Seth’s instincts hadn’t been buzzing that something was amiss with the way this was all going down. Something was off. He knew it down to his gut.

“How long have you been seeing this guy?” he asked.

Maya slumped back in the plush chair facing Seth’s desk with a groan. “Don’t do this. I
knew
you were going to do this.”

He frowned. “Do what?”

“The big brother thing,” she said.

“Hard not to, what with me being six years older and all,” Seth said.

He
didn’t add that he was doubly obligated to be protective given Hank’s death just months earlier. Maya had definitely been Daddy’s Little Princess. She still got tears in her eyes every time their father’s name was mentioned.

Maya leaned forward, her pale blue eyes much like his own, although her blond hair was lighter than his, thanks to her frequent trips to the salon.

“I
love
him, Seth. I know you’re jaded these days, but Neil is exactly the type of guy we women spend our entire lives dreaming about.”

Seth bit his tongue to stop from saying that he bet Maya was exactly the type of girl that guys like Neil dreamed about, too. Young, pretty . . . and filthy rich.

Or so Neil likely thought.

The truth was, most of Maya’s money was tied up in a monthly allowance. It had been that way when Hank Tyler had been alive, and Seth’s father had stipulated that it remain that way after his death.

Technically
, Maya supported herself on the salary from the fancy art gallery where she worked part-time. But judging from the half dozen shopping bags strewn about his office right now, it was safe to say not a penny of that monthly check from their father’s estate was going into savings.

Maya wasn’t frivolous—she had a good head on her shoulders, gave plenty of time and money to charity—but she also liked pretty things and fancy dinners.

As a result, she tended to attract men who
also
liked pretty things and fancy dinners. Seth was willing to bet the new guy was no different.

It
was on the tip of his tongue to beg her to reconsider—to date the guy for at least a year before taking the plunge. But then, time wasn’t always the answer, was it? He’d dated Nadia for nearly three years, and look how that had turned out.

Seth sighed at the earnest, pleading look on his sister’s face. No wonder she’d had their father wrapped around her manicured finger. The girl was good. No, not a girl, he reminded himself. Much as he thought of Maya as his baby sister, she was twenty-six now.

Old enough for him to start respecting her decisions.

“Tell me about Neil,” he said begrudgingly.

Maya grinned and clapped her hands together, launching into something about a meet-cute at the art gallery. Damn it, he
knew
he should have pushed for her to land some desk job here at the hotel group, where he could keep an eye on her.

Seth pushed back from his desk, standing as she chattered away happily, and went to the large floor-to-ceiling windows that had an unobstructed view of the iconic lights of the Empire State Building.

He did some of his best thinking when away from his desk—which meant these days he was barely thinking at all. But when he separated from the office, that was when he was really able to focus: away from email and the phone and the endless to-do lists and memos from his assistant and . . .

“—he’s
such
a good guy, Seth. He brings me flowers every day, just
because
, you know? And sweet
little gifts. And anytime I mention a new restaurant I want to try, Neil manages to get reservations, like, same day . . .”

And who pays for the dinner?

Seth kept his voice easy as he turned around to face Maya. “What does he do?”

Maya’s smile froze for just a moment before it brightened again. “He wants to start his own company—one that makes art more accessible to regular people. You know, like matching up-and-coming artists with new collectors. Eventually he wants to build a mobile app and everything. He’s in investment mode right now, but—”

Ah, shit.

Seth had no problem with start-ups. Or art. But a few of Maya’s word choices caused the alarm bells in Seth’s head to ratchet up another notch:

Neil
wants
to start his own company. He
eventually
wants to build a mobile app.

And the nail in Maya’s fiancé’s coffin—he was in
investment mode
.

In Seth’s experience, a man truly in investment mode of starting his own company didn’t have the extra resources to be sending a woman flowers every day. Or buying her little gifts. And certainly not taking her out to dinner on a regular basis at all the hottest new eateries.

Seth ran a finger along the inside of his shirt collar. It did nothing to ease the tension. He tugged at the knot of his tie, loosening it just enough to flick open the top button. Laid-back wasn’t something he
did often. As a thirty-two-year-old CEO of one of the largest companies in North America, he had an image to uphold.

But it was nearly midnight, and the only person to see him was his sister.

A sister who was getting married.

Fuck
.

“Seth, you have to know I hate coming to you with this kind of stuff,” Maya was saying now, her voice genuinely contrite. “I know this is all more than you wanted this soon. The responsibility of the company, plus all the logistics of Daddy’s estate. The responsibility of
me
. . .”

Seth rubbed at the back of his neck as he sat back down in his chair and faced his sister. “You’re an adult, Maya. It’s not like I’m having to attend parent-teacher conferences.”

“I know, and I’m taking care of myself, I am, it’s just—”

“It’s just that you want your big white wedding,” he said.

Maya grinned in relief. “I
have
been planning it forever.”

Seth smiled back. “You forget that I was there for some of those early planning stages. I’m still not sure I forgive you for making Tinkerbell the groom while I was relegated to usher.”

“
Head
usher. And it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look as cute in a bow tie as an overweight pug. Besides, I’m happy to give you a promotion to maid of honor for the real deal,” she teased.

“We both know that Tori would kill me if I
took the top spot away from her,” Seth said, referring to Maya’s longtime best friend. “Plus, teal’s not my color.” Seth knew his sister loved anything that emphasized her blue eyes and could already see the aqua-themed cornucopia that would be her wedding. He got a headache just thinking about it.

“Oh, please. You can pull off just about any color you want,” Maya said. “I hate that you got Mom’s olive complexion while I got Dad’s pasty shade of pale.”

“Buttering me up before you drop the cost of this blessed event?”

Maya pulled her bottom lip between her teeth nervously before scooting toward the edge of her chair. “It’s just, well, I have some money of my own, of course, but then Neil pointed out that if Daddy were alive—”

Seth stiffened.
Neil
pointed out, did he? Seth was liking his sister’s husband-to-be less and less.