“Jace!” she exclaims.

“This is quite the welcome,” I whisper into her hair.

“I missed you,” she murmurs against my neck.

“Were you worried my second-rate security team might not get me back in one piece?” She pulls back, giving me my first view of her face, along with those of the dozens of people in the entryway staring at us. It’s a mixture of agents, maids, a group of men in suits, and some women who I think are part of the team planning our wedding. They all glance away when they see me looking, but I’m already focused back on Viv.

She bites her lip. “You weren’t supposed to know about that.”

“It did make for an awkward conversation with my agents.”

“Where did you go?” Viv asks.

“Huh?”

“I’m guessing you found out because they had to call my team. And they only would have done that if you went somewhere that wasn’t on the itinerary.”

“I went to the Sharks game,” I admit.

Something in Viv’s expression tells me she was expecting that answer. “I saw they lost.”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Too bad they didn’t have you out there.”

“I’m not sure how much use I would have been,” I reply.

Viv raises her eyebrows. “Are you being modest about your football abilities?”

“No. But I would have spent the game thinking about how you were about to marry someone else.”

Viv’s face softens.

“I couldn’t wait to come back,” I whisper to her before I kiss her.

She hasn’t brought it up again, but I’m sure she’s still worried I’m going to regret my choice to move here one day. I’m not just saying the words to reassure her, though. I mean them.

Two months later, I drive my Porsche up the clamshell driveway of Glendale Cottage. I turn off the car. Mike and I climb out. Anderson, Owens, Kenny, and Sam are standing in front of the imposing building, just arrived from the airport.

“Dawson,” Anderson breathes as we reach him. “This is the ‘cottage’ we’re staying at? I thought you meant a glorified tent. Summer camp shit.”

Mike laughs. “Dude, this is nothing. We went to brunch at the palace yesterday, and that place does make this look like a shack.”

“I’m so glad I invited Vivienne to that party,” Anderson says reverently.

“Yup, that’s the only reason we’re all here.” I roll my eyes. “Come on.” I lead my brother and best friends inside the admittedly impressive mansion to kick off my last night as a bachelor.

After we eat dinner, Owens comes up with the brilliant idea to go out to a bar, which Sam and Anderson eagerly support. Mike’s just as enthusiastic, since the drinking age here is eighteen. It takes them twenty minutes to convince Marcus to tell us the name of the nearest bar.

My security team insists on accompanying us, which I expect, but my brother and friends are awed by their presence.