by Adams, S. C.
I giggle.
“How is that possible? Doesn’t everyone go at least once? And it’s free to boot, right?”
He shrugs.
“I guess it was never on my list. It’s weird to think about it, but living here means I don’t notice as much of the cool stuff there is to do. For better or worse, you get used to things.”
I giggle again.
“Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ll happily go to tourist stops with you. I’m dying to get to know the city. My program only lasts a year, and I plan on using every second while I’m here to explore.”
“We’ll do it together then. But first, let me get your number before I forget.”
I recite the ten digits for him to enter into his phone. I hold up my dead cell for him to see.
“I’d ask for yours, but I’d have nowhere to put it. Text me so I can save your number?”
“Done,” he says. “By the way, do you want to have dinner with me tonight?”
His abrupt question surprises me, but my answer is immediate.
“Um sure.” Wow, things really do move at lightspeed in the city.
Nate smiles, flashing that impish grin again. “Excellent. I’ll pick you up at five?”
“Um sure,” I stammer. And with that, the handsome man is gone before turning around to wave.
“Don’t bring any moose!” he calls.
I giggle again, turning to go into my new apartment. Of course I wouldn’t bring moose to dinner. Or does he mean I should bring moose to dinner? Who knows? I’m stunned at the quick turn of events. I just got asked on a date in my first hour in the city. This truly is the land of opportunity, especially for a girl who doesn’t know much about men.
But first things first. I drag my suitcases up the two stairs and down the hall. If I’d stayed with Nate on the sidewalk any longer, I might have never come in. My door opens easily with the key my landlord mailed. The apartment is expensive, but it came fully furnished, thank god. There’s a lumpy sofa and rickety dining table, along with a bright orange plastic chair. Only one chair, not two.
But it’s fine. There’s only one of me, after all. I plug my phone into a socket, and plonk down on the sofa, my head still whirring. But then I leap up in a frenzy. I’ve got a date tonight with the most gorgeous man … and I can’t wait.
To be continued …
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Sneak Peek: 3 Daddies To Go
Kendall
There are three gorgeous, growly groomsmen at the wedding, but only one sweet, generous bridesmaid ready to share.
If Trudy barks one more order, I swear I will walk out of this church.
I take a deep breath, reminding myself this is my best friend’s wedding. If she wants to be a bridezilla, then she’s allowed to be.
Trudy fiddles with another bridesmaid’s headpiece. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror next to the doors that lead into the church and wince a bit. The large, purple flower on my head is way too much, especially when paired with this awful dress, but Trudy insisted that we put them on.
Inside, hundreds of people are gathered to watch Trudy marry the man of her dreams. That’s great and all, but it also means that every single one of them will see me in this monstrosity of a dress.
“How hard is it to clip a damn flower in your hair?” Trudy snarls from behind me. She’s moved on from her friend and is now accosting her cousin. “Honestly, do I need to do everything here?”
I roll my eyes, careful to hide the gesture from Trudy. We’ve been through a lot together, but she’s being ridiculous. I’m just glad the wedding is well on its way because I don’t think our friendship could handle much more of this.
“Let me do it, Trudy,” I say, trying to calm her down. “You just focus on looking beautiful.”
My friend does look beautiful, to tell the truth. While our dresses are obnoxious purple throwbacks to eighties prom dresses, hers is a gorgeous white masterpiece. The subtle sweetheart neckline accentuates her full chest. Floral lace accented with beads covers the bodice, down to just below her hips, where the dress opens up in a mermaid-style bottom. I wasn’t there when she picked out the dress, but I did go with Trudy to her first fitting. When I saw her, I knew she had picked the perfect gown. She looked breathtaking then, and she looks just as incredible now.
So why the nasty attitude? I fiddle with Trudy’s cousin’s hair. The problem isn’t us, it’s that the flower clip is cheap and ready to snap in half. Luckily, I have bobby pins and tuck everything in nice and tight. Once the clip is secured, Trudy looks somewhat appeased.
I remind myself that once the wedding is over, Trudy will be my best friend again. Someday I might get married, and maybe I’ll be just as bad as her. If that happens, and my buddy complains, I’ll remind her of this moment.
“Everything is beautiful,” I say, holding Trudy by the shoulders. “Your wedding is everything you ever wanted it to be.”
She scoffs.
“Please. I spent twenty minutes fixing your hair. I thought you were taking point on this, Kendall.”
It’s tempting to storm out and throw a fit, but what good would that do? Instead, I take a deep breath and shoot her a comforting smile.
“Everything’s okay now,” I tell her. “We look great. You look great.”
At least that statement is true. As for me, I’m sweating underneath the heavy purple lace she’s forcing us to wear. It’s like the dress shop ordered a hundred extra yards of material and had to use it up somehow by swathing us in these monstrosities.
Yet when my friend studies her four bridesmaids, I manage to smile. After what feels like an hour, she nods again.
“You guys look decent enough. Let me see your flowers.”
Our bouquets sit on a side table, waiting until we’re ready to go inside. I didn’t want to risk the bouquets getting messed up while we got ready.
“They’re over there, perfectly safe,” I say in a calm voice.
She stares at them, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Are these are the bouquets I picked? They’re so small. What’s the point in holding flowers if no one can see them?”
It’s true, our bouquets are a tiny bit on the smaller side, but it’s not anything crazy. They’re just white lilies with a few small purple flowers. When I went with Trudy to choose them, I thought they were just fine. So did she, at the time. Unfortunately, she seems to have forgotten that.
“We didn’t want our flowers to compete with yours,” I tell her.
Her face lights up.
“You’re right! My bouquet should be the biggest. It’s bigger than the four of yours combined!”
It’s true because her bouquet is a huge monstrosity of all sorts of flowers mashed together in the theme of purple and white. It’s funny the things that make a bride happy on her big day, isn’t it?
“So you’re happy with our bouquets then?” I ask tentatively.
She nods.
“They’ll do. I wish I’d picked something other than lilies though. Lilies are so clichéd. It’s too late now, though. It is what it is.”
Before I can say anything more, the wedding photographer approaches us.
“Can I get a picture of the bride posing with the flowers?”
Trudy smiles.
“Of course!”
We smile, trying to look at ease, as the young woman takes a hundred pictures. I don’t even want to see how they come out because I’m sure I look dumpy next to Trudy. She’s sleek, blonde, and absolutely stunning no matter what she does or wears. Meanwhile, I’m curvy and brunette, and about twenty pounds on the heavier side. While I can look attractive depending on what I wear, this dress is not doing anything for me.
“How about a few of the bridal party milling about before the ceremony?” the photographer asks. “Before pictures are always a big hit.”
Trudy shrugs.
“Sure, you’re the expert.”
We fuss about, trying to
look casual, as the photographer snaps away for the next twenty minutes. But this has to end at some point, and eventually, Trudy’s wedding planner emerges from inside the church.
“Ready, ladies? We’re just about to start.”
I’m not sorry that she interrupted, and neither is Trudy, judging by her beaming face and teary eyes. I’m so glad they invented waterproof makeup. Not that Trudy ever looks messy or sloppy because she’s the epitome of style. Hell, raccoon eyes would probably just make her more stylish, as if it were the latest trend.
“We’re ready!” the other girls chorus.
I distribute the bouquets to all the girls, and we get in line. I’m last, just before Trudy, which is a special position given to the maid of honor, I guess.
“Girls,” Trudy says quietly. “Thank you for being here with me. It means a lot.”
My heart swells. Trudy may be high maintenance, but at least she knows how to show appreciation.
I turn and offer her a smile.
“We love you, girl. There’s nowhere else we’d rather be.”
Actually, I can think of at least twelve places I’d rather be, and not one of them involve this itchy, heavy dress, but Trudy doesn’t need to know that.
“Okay!” says the planner. I have no idea what her name is. Honestly, I don’t think Trudy does, either. She only ever refers to the woman as “the wedding planner,” which seems rude, but it is what it is.
“In a minute, I’m going to cue the organist,” the wedding planner says. “After a few bars, the doors will open. We’ve got people to do that, so don’t worry about opening them yourselves. After the doors open, Jenny, wait five seconds. No more, no less. And then walk in, one after the other.”
We nod, and then the doors sweep open and we paste happy smiles on our faces. Like clockwork, Monica counts to five before stepping into the church. Then Leonore follows behind her, right on cue. Trudy’s cousin, June, goes next.
I take a deep, calming breath. June makes it to the first pew, then the second. I stand up straight and hold my bouquet in two hands. As soon as June gets to the third pew, I take my first step.
The wedding has officially begun, and hopefully it doesn’t go down the pipes before my friend says her vows. As I walk down the aisle, I smile at the guests and try to look serene, but actually, I’m wondering where my own Prince Charming is. Could he be here? They always say that weddings are the best place to meet someone, but it’s going to be hard to meet someone good given that I’m wearing this incredibly ugly outfit. Damn.
Just then, I catch sight of the Trudy’s groom, Herbie. Poor Herb. He’s perspiring like a pig on a hot day, and my heart goes out to him. That’s not going to look good in the wedding video.
Then, my eyes glance to the groom’s right and my jaw almost drops. These are Herbie’s groomsmen? Because I’ve just set eyes on three of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life. They’re tall, dark, and outrageously gorgeous with dark hair and tanned skin. All three of them are breathtakingly handsome in their suits and my heart begins to pound heavily. Oh my gosh, what if this wedding fulfills its promise, and I get to meet not one Prince Charming, but three?
To be continued …
Does Kendall find love with not one, but three handsome groomsmen? Read and find out! 3 Daddies To Go is now LIVE, and available here!
About the Author
S.C. Adams is a romance author who likes her stories hot and unprotected. She grew up a Jersey girl but considers herself a global citizen now. She gives thanks to the gods of Paypal, Amazon, and Microsoft for allowing her to work anywhere in the world, including on the beaches of Bali and the mountains of Peru. Oh, and she also hates chocolate, but loves dogs. Currently toting her mutt Minnie to a new location every three months.
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