The Anti-Honeymoon

By Bethany Michaels

No groom? No Problem.

When her fiancé tries to turn their wedding into a publicity stunt, Jenna ditches the nuptials—and the groom she shouldn’t have been with in the first place—and skips straight to the honeymoon. The getaway driver, her ex-fiancé’s former business partner, Zach, is the perfect guy to help reshape her romantic newlywed itinerary into an anti-couple, anti-romance, anti-honeymoon adventure for two.

They trade couples yoga for kickboxing lessons. Five-star dining on the beach for pizza and beer at a dive bar. Forget couples massage—Jenna’s getting that tattoo she’s always wanted, and dares Zach to get one, too. And those naughty boudoir pics she took in place of romantic sunset snaps? Those aren’t going in anyone’s wedding album. Not that Zach will forget them anytime soon.

As each item on Jenna’s anti-couples list is checked off, the anti-honeymoon with Zach feels more and more like the real thing, and she wishes the list was just a little bit longer...and even steamier.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Mar 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9781682815366

Book preview

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Find love in unexpected places with these satisfying Lovestruck reads…

Matzah Ball Surprise

Her Super-Secret Rebound Boyfriend

The Best Man’s Proposal

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2020 by Bethany Michaels. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

10940 S Parker Rd

Suite 327

Parker, CO 80134

[e-mail]

Lovestruck is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Heather Howland

Cover design by KAM Designs

Cover photography by Rido/Shutterstock

apid/DepositPhotos

ISBN 978-1-68281-536-6

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition March 2020

Dear Reader,

Thank you for supporting a small publisher! Entangled prides itself on bringing you the highest quality romance you’ve come to expect, and we couldn’t do it without your continued support. We love romance, and we hope this book leaves you with a smile on your face and joy in your heart.

xoxo

Liz Pelletier, Publisher

For Mike—the man who shares my twisted sense of humor. Thanks for twenty years of love, laughter, and inappropriate comments.

Chapter One

I moved your friends to the back row, Elliot whispered through the tiny crack Jenna had allowed between the door of her bridal dressing room and her fiancée. She had dreamed of her wedding day forever and wanted to start her married life off right. Elliot was not allowed to see her in her wedding dress before she walked down the aisle, which was in about fifteen minutes.

What?

Your friends. I moved them to the back.

She would have made an outraged noise if her lower ribs, belly, and right lung hadn’t been too compressed by the foundation garment the stylist had insisted on. It felt like a python was wrapped around her torso, squeezing her into the correct shape the designer gown demanded. She could only suck in a few short puffs of air at a time, which made outrage pretty difficult.

I wanted to tell you myself, so you don’t get that ugly crease between your brows when you get to the altar and see Mr. and Mrs. Drakeport in the front row. He paused. Some Botox would take care of that crease, you know. Maybe you’ll finally agree to see Dr. Sullivan when we get back from the honeymoon.

Jenna could almost imagine him frowning at her reluctance to have needles full of muscle-paralyzing toxins poked into her face, though thanks to Dr. Sullivan, his brow was furrowless, no matter his level of frustration.

You know how important it is to me to have Aggie and the others in front, she said. We talked about this. Why would you move them?

"The photographer from City Style thought it would be better if their, uh, unusual outfits were not in the main photo. It’s a two-page spread. And the one lady is wearing a hat that, well, doesn’t really fit in."

That one lady would be Aggie. So the photographer’s wishes are more important than your fiancé’s. Is that what you’re telling me?

Tradition be damned, Jenna jerked open the door to confront him directly.

"Is it, Elliot?"

Instead of answering, Elliot examined her, from the top of her perfectly coiffed wedding updo, down the lines of her gown (unwrinkled, as she hadn’t been permitted to sit down since being sewn into it by the designer’s assistant) to the pointy, too-small designer heels that gave her the wobbly, halting gait of a drunk tightrope walker, despite the weeks she’d spent practicing walking in them.

Although Elliot had turned into a groomzilla the moment he’d slid the two-karat diamond solitaire onto her finger, Jenna hadn’t cared about the details of their wedding. She’d gotten through the endless dress fittings by fantasizing about the way Elliot would look at her as soon as he saw her in it for the first time.

He’d be totally speechless. Breathless, as she started down the aisle. His eyes would go soft and he’d be unable to look away as a goofy sort of gape-mouthed wonder softened his lips, turning them upward. Then his eyes would go hot, promising a wedding night neither of them would forget. She’d feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet. Loved, cherished, and desired. And she’d know that the awestruck man was her other half.

Awestruck wasn’t the look she got from Elliot.

His lips tightened slightly. You should have tried harder to lose that last five pounds, he said before returning his gaze to her face. He cocked his head. The lipstick works.

Lipstick? She closed her eyes and let out a measured breath, the only kind she could physically manage. Aggie and the others were what they were discussing, not her appearance. This was the only thing I asked for, Elliot. You know that.

Argued for, actually. Having her friends in the place of honor where her parents had been extremely important to her, and when she hadn’t backed down, he’d relented, kissed her on the forehead, then showed her a picture of the bouquet made from special imported something or another he’d picked out for Jenna to carry. She’d nodded along, eager to get the whole thing over with so that Elliot could relax a little and go back to being the easygoing man she loved before the wedding. As long as her friends were up front with her, she’d carry whatever bouquet he wanted.

They’re still here at the wedding, he said, none too thrilled. They’re just less…obvious.

Tucked out of the way like the second-class citizens Elliot considered them to be. He didn’t understand the satisfaction and joy she got from working with the seniors at the assisted living center and certainly didn’t understand that, to Jenna, the group of seniors was more than people she helped, more than friends. They had become her family after her parents’ sudden death in a small plane crash five years earlier. They had been with her when she was grieving and had helped her heal. They’d been with her on the good days and on the ones she’d never have made it through on her own. They deserved to be in a place of honor on the biggest day of her life, not hidden in a corner like a shabby old sofa.

Jenna wasn’t backing down. Not on this.

I don’t care what the photographer said. I want my friends moved back, Elliot, right now. Or I’m not walking down that aisle. She wanted to cross her arms, but no, not possible in this gown.

He looked horrified. Then angry. Irate, actually.

As the wedding date had gotten closer and closer, he’d gotten more short-tempered, more obsessive about the day being perfect. Jenna had begun to wonder if throwing the perfect wedding and having it all documented in City Style was more important to Elliot than her and the life they were going to build together. But she’d chalked all those crazy thoughts up to cold feet. Now, though, that icy doubt settled low in her belly, which was a long, long way from her aching feet.

Elliot’s face softened, and Jenna instantly recognized what she called his Schmooze Face. When he was talking to potential clients at a dinner or assigning a member of his staff an unpleasant task, he turned on his considerable charm and donned that face. The schmooze face never failed him.

Elliot squeezed Jenna’s bare arms gently as he smiled down at her, all traces of annoyance well hidden. Now, Jenna. Just calm down. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. His voice was soft and rhythmic, like he was trying to soothe a child who was throwing a temper tantrum over not getting one more cookie. Let’s just get this done and we can talk about it later, when you’re not so worked up, okay?

His condescending tone only made her stomach churn harder. I’m serious, Elliot.

He dropped his hands and the Schmooze Face. Don’t be ridiculous, Jenna, he said. "The wedding starts in exactly twelve minutes. There are five hundred of the city’s richest and most influential people out there. People who are clients, important to my business. My parents. Not to mention City Style. I don’t know why you’re doing this to me now."

He turned to leave the dressing room but stopped before shutting the door. He turned, and for a split second, Jenna thought maybe he’d had a change of heart. That he’d apologize and say that of course he’d move her friends back where they belonged and could she ever forgive him?

But no.

I’m going to send Niki back in here. Your hair needs a touch-up.

The door shut softly behind him, and Jenna was alone.

If she had been able to sit, she would have slumped into the very cozy-looking chair in the corner. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and indulged in a frown, crease inducing or not.

Was she making too much out of this? Honestly, he was right. The people who meant most to her were there, just in different seats.

But the nagging feeling of cold, wet laundry tumbling in her belly would not go away. And this time, it wasn’t hunger pangs from pre-wedding dieting making it rumble. It was the bone-deep certainty that she was making a huge mistake.

But how could she walk out on Elliot now, only minutes before the string orchestra he’d paid the GDP of a small country to book would play her down the aisle on the arm of Elliot’s father?

She’d know Elliot for years, since his parents and hers had been the best of friends. As a girl, she had harbored a little crush on him. He’d always been good looking, outgoing, and popular, but he’d always had a smile for the shy, awkward girl sitting quietly by herself at the parties and dinners their families attended. It had never been romantic, at least not on Elliot’s side.

When he’d called out of the blue and asked her out a little less than a year ago, that secret girlhood crush roared back to life, and it hadn’t been hard to see the boy she’d spent hours thinking about in the face of man before her. Time and responsibility had changed him over the years, but every once in a while, Elliot would look at her in a certain way, and she knew that kind boy was still there, somewhere.

And when she and Elliot had announced their engagement to his mother and father, they’d confided that it had been the dearest wish of her parents and his. There had been a certain poetry to that, a feeling of closure. Even if Jenna’s parents weren’t there, it was a comfort to know she was doing something that would have made them happy and proud.

Could she really throw all that away right now? Inconvenience all those people? Waste all the money Elliot had spent on making this day perfect? Well, his version of perfect, anyway. And what about Elliot’s parents? They were practically in-laws already. They had known her since she was born. Jenna couldn’t bear to disappoint them.

Elliot loved her. Surely he’d taken her words to heart and moved her friends back where they belonged. Maybe she was getting all worked up over nothing.

Hiking up her too-long gown, she shuffled out of the dressing room and down the hallway that led to the sanctuary. Every pew was packed with people dressed chicly in black, white, or gray. The pews were smothered in elaborate floral doohickeys, and an archway had been erected at the altar, under which they were supposed to exchange vows to love, honor, and cherish one another forever. Jenna’s stomach shifted again.

Elliot’s voice was clear, ringing across the acres of Chanel and Gucci. He was shaking hands and chatting people up in the front row as he waited for the ceremony to get started.

Jenna didn’t see Aggie or the others at all. She peeked around the side, and there, wedged into the very back corner, well out of any shot Elliot’s photographer might frame, were her friends.

Aggie, she whispered to the silver-haired woman on the end. Her brightly patterned dress and large pink hat were jarring compared to the sedate colors the rest of the wedding guests wore. She’d give Elliot that. But Aggie’s fearlessness in wardrobe, and in life, was one of the things that made Jenna want to be her when she grew up.

Aggie didn’t hear her, of course. She’d probably lost her hearing aids again. Jenna smiled, shaking her head.

But Tommy, Aggie’s son, did hear. When she caught his eye, she gestured him into the foyer, empty now that all the wedding guests were seated and waiting for the bridal march to begin.

What are you doing out here? Tommy whispered when he reached her. Wow, you look beautiful, by the way. He smiled, the deep laugh lines around his eyes evidence that he hadn’t always been as sad as he’d been the past year since his wife had left him.

Thanks, Jenna said. You’re all supposed to be in the front row.

A woman who looked like she had a shovel up her ass moved us, Aggie said, joining them. She tilted her head to look up at Jenna. Too much rouge. You don’t need all that war paint.

Jenna agreed.

Mom, stop. She looks great, Tommy said.

Jenna glanced into the sanctuary. A few people near the back had turned to look at them. She moved Aggie and Tommy down the hall, closer to the bridal suite, out of earshot.

That woman with the shovel-ass would be the wedding planner, Jenna said. Elliot was supposed to fix this, get you back to the right seats.

I guess plans changed, Tommy said. It’s not a big deal.

"It is a big deal," Jenna said, and even she could identify the note of panic that had crept into her voice. She estimated that she was about twenty seconds from a major freak-out.

Aggie huffed. Elliot would have helped us right into heavy traffic if he had his way.

She wasn’t wrong.

Uh-oh, Aggie said, standing up straight, like she’d been caught being naughty in school. Now we’re in for it.

Niki, the cousin Jenna hardly knew, and her maid of honor, stalked toward them, a look of concern on her face. Elliot sent me to fix your hair, she said. What are you doing out here?

Elliot moved my friends to the back row. Jenna closed her eyes. I don’t know if I can…do this.

Niki looked at her, wide-eyed and not blinking, her mouth hanging slack like something upstairs simply did not compute. Sooo, you’ve got a whole church full of people here, hundreds of servers, valets, and chefs, not to mention cases of imported champagne that will make the reception the envy of brides for a decade, plus a gorgeous, rich man literally waiting at the alter to make you his wife and love you forever…and you’re upset over the seating arrangements for a twenty-minute ceremony?

Well…yeah. When she said it like that, it did seem a little ridiculous.

She dug in her cleavage and pulled out a tiny plastic baggie with a couple of pills in it. This is Valium. Only a small dose. It’ll calm you down, put things in perspective. She held out the baggie to Jenna.

You carry pills in your bosom? Aggie asked, staring at Niki’s boobs. What else you got in there?

Tommy let out a sigh. Mom, go sit back down. I’ll be there in a minute, okay?

I don’t need drugs, Jenna said, feeling exactly like she needed drugs.

Aggie shuffled off, muttering under her breath.

Jenna shoved the baggie back at Niki. Tell the wedding planner to delay ten minutes.

Niki shook her head. Elliot is not going to like this, but whatever. She headed around to another side hallway where the wedding planner and her crew had set up headquarters.

Jenna, Tommy said, taking her shaking hands, Mom and I both love you like you’re family, so I’m going to butt in here and tell you something I told my own daughter before she married Jackass Number One.

Jenna looked up at Tommy, part of her hoping he was about