My internal clock told me that it was around eight or nine in the morning, so we hadn’t overslept, but I needed my phone. I needed the exact time and the list of reminders of the errands and tasks I had to do. I tore up the bed, pulled out the nightstand drawers, got down flat on my belly to look under the bed and dressers.

The phone wasn’t in here.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed under my breath while yanking the bedroom door open. “Haven’t even been here a full twenty-four hours, and I’m already fucking up,” I muttered.

Out in the living room, I found Carter, Matthew, and Scott sprawled across the sectional. They weren’t invited to the family brunch, but they still needed to wake up so they could get back to the hotel to shit, shower, and shave before the tux fitting.

“Hey, assholes,” I grunted, clapping my hands loud enough to crack my own skull. “Wake up. Time to get your asses back to the hotel to shower and change. We have appointments today.”

“Martinez… I fucking hate you,” Scott groaned, his face buried in the couch cushions. And honestly, that might be true. We were both here because we were friends with Jared, but we’ve never been tight.

“Now, you hate me. I told ya bitch ass not to get shitfaced last night. I knew this shit was gonna happen.”

“Jesus Christ…” Matthew complained, rolling onto his back. “My mouth tastes like ass.”

“Probably because you threw up a whole medium pizza last night,” Carter volunteered.

My heart dropped into my shoes. “Matthew threw up? Where? Did you clean it up ‘cause if I go in that bathroom and—”

“Relax, den mother. He threw up outside,” Scott said. “Ms. MacFarland came out to handle it and sent us all to bed.”

“Shit…” I cursed again, arrowing my fingers into my hair, which felt stiff and dry from the chlorine. “Was she pissed?”

“Nah…not really. She just hosed off the rose bushes. To be honest, she reacted as if she expected it to happen,” Matthew volunteered.

I sighed in relief. “Good.”

“She didn’t get pissed until you kissed her. That’s when she sent all of us to bed,” Scott added.

My heart stalled in my chest. I turned to Scott, who was wearing a smug smile on his face. “I tried to kiss Darcy?”

“Who said tried?” Scott asked, pushing himself off the couch. “You did kiss her.” He bumped my shoulder as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom. But I was too stunned by his words to react or retaliate.

I kissed Darcy?

Wow. That Marrow Bone Creek bourbon must be stronger than I remembered because I had no recollection of kissing Darcy. And I really wanted to have some recollection of kissing Darcy. Even if it was drunken and sloppy and ended with her slapping me—