Wrong Wedding

by Noelle Adams

  Both of them were suddenly desperate, as if the last threads of their control had snapped. They fumbled to get his pants off and then fumbled to get in position, and then both of them cried out when he pushed into her and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

  He kept trying to kiss her as he started to rock. When their motion became too fast and hard, his face was still only inches from hers. He grunted as he worked up toward climax, and she was gasping and whimpering as her own pleasure tightened too.

  She came—hard and helpless and messy as she sobbed with emotion as much as the sensations. Then he was coming too, muttering out how much he loved her, how he would always love her, how she was the only one he ever wanted.

  They lay together in a hot, sated tangle afterward. Even if Summer had had the energy to move, she wouldn’t have wanted to.

  She wanted to stay like this. Lincoln between her arms and legs. Loving her and letting her love him. Giving to her and taking what she was giving him. Pouring himself into her and allowing her to do the same.

  He was her husband, and he was going to stay that way.

  She got to hold on to him—exactly like this—for the rest of her life.

  TWO MONTHS LATER, SUMMER got out of a quick shower and threw on a little pink robe before she ran out to the kitchen to check the lasagna in the oven.

  It still had twenty minutes to go, based on the cooking time on the recipe, but she wasn’t going to take any chances.

  She and Lincoln were having their first dinner party this evening, and she wasn’t going to mess up the main course.

  They’d moved from the Wilson mansion into the large condo she owned—in one of the two luxury buildings right on the lakeside. It still felt new and exciting to live only with Lincoln even though they’d moved more than a month ago now. She got a silly little thrill when she left the kitchen and saw Lincoln sitting at the desk in the office nook, staring at a computer with his head propped on one hand.

  “How’s it going?” she asked as she passed.

  “Terrible. What the hell was I thinking?”

  “You were thinking it might be nice to get a college degree, so you’re taking one class to try it out. If you decide you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to. But don’t give up on the second week of class.”

  He made a face at her, but she knew he was playing it up on purpose. He’d been hesitant about making the decision since he still sometimes felt like his mistakes in the past had bound him to only one life. But he’d also been excited when he registered for an online introduction to business course at a nearby university.

  She knew, deep down, he wanted to do this even though he’d never really let himself admit it, so she was going to make sure he didn’t give up. She came over to peer at the computer screen, putting her hand on his shoulder as she leaned to look. “What’s so terrible about it? It’s not hard already, is it?”

  “No, it’s not hard. It’s boring. Stupid. Any idiot would know this stuff.”

  She laughed and ran her hand through his hair, tweaking his ear as she withdrew. “In my experience, you have to get through a lot of boring, stupid stuff in college to get to the helpful stuff.”

  He groaned but then pushed back the desk chair and pulled her down into his lap. “I can think of better things to be doing right now than boring, stupid stuff.”

  “Well, if you’re thinking about sex stuff, you can think again. People are going to start showing up in fifteen minutes.”

  They’d invited a few of Summer’s friends and a few of Lincoln’s. Plus Carter, of course.

  Things had been going well with Carter for the past two months. He and Summer were back to being friends the way they used to. He never said anything about any other feelings. She didn’t know if they’d gone away or if he was working through them in private. Either way, he was making sure not to make her feel sad or guilty about them, which was a very kind, Carter-like instinct.

  He and Lincoln had been spending more time together too. Carter had taken over the company now officially, but he was allowing Lincoln to stay involved. Summer knew that meant a lot to Lincoln. If he decided to complete his college degree, Summer was pretty sure there would be a job waiting for him with the company. That was still in the future, but it was a possibility.

  If he decided he’d rather stay a bartender, then that would be just fine too.

  She wanted him to be happy—whatever that looked like. Happy in a way he’d never let himself be before.

  He looked happy right now with his arms around her and that hot, soft, laughing look in his green eyes. “Fifteen minutes will be more than enough time for what I have in mind.”

  “You don’t get fifteen minutes!” She struggled playfully in his grip. “You only get ten. I need at least five minutes to clean up the sperminess and throw on some clothes, unless you want me to greet our guests in this bathrobe.”

  “No way in hell you’re doing that. Only I get to see you like this.” He kissed her hard and quick. Then set her on her feet, stood up, and threw her over his shoulder. “Okay. Ten minutes it is.”

  She squealed in surprise and laughter as she hung over his shoulder, both off-balanced and exhilarated. “You only have nine minutes now, so you better move quick. None of your normal teasing and torture.”

  He was laughing too as he dropped her onto their bed. “Are you actually complaining that I take my time with you? You seem to be pretty happy with the kind of teasing and torture I provide.”

  She reached up to drag him down on top of her by fistfuls of his T-shirt. “I’m more than pretty happy. I’m as happy as a girl can get.”

  He met her eyes, and her heart melted at the expression she could see there. Love. Trust. Desire. Naked adoration. “I’ll spend my life keeping you happy,” he murmured thickly. “I promise you that, baby.”

  “I promise the same thing to you.” She cupped his face tenderly for a long moment. But then she glanced over the clock. “Okay. You just used up two of your minutes on sappiness.”

  He laughed and opened her robe, lowering his mouth to one of her breasts. But he slanted her a sly little look with a twitch of his eyebrows before he added, “But you’re going to get a minute or two of torture for that reference to sperminess. You know how I feel about that. But I’ll still get us done on time. I promise.”

  Lincoln kept that promise. As well as every other promise he made.

  Epilogue

  SIX MONTHS LATER, SUMMER was sitting on a stool at Lincoln’s bar, studiously peering at her phone and trying her best not to glance over to see what he was doing.

  They were in a fight.

  A really stupid fight.

  But he was the one in the wrong, so she wasn’t going to be the one to initiate a reconciliation. The most she would do was make herself available for an apology by coming into the bar this evening instead of staying at home and moping about all of Lincoln’s bad qualities.

  So here she was, pretending to scan through Twitter on her phone and sipping her drink.

  When she’d come in and sat down, she’d felt like one of her normal daiquiris, but Lincoln had mixed one for her without even asking first, which she thought was obnoxiously presumptuous, so she’d given him a cool sniff and said she actually wanted a whiskey sour.

  She didn’t particularly like whiskey sours. She’d just said the first thing that came to her that Lincoln would never have guessed. He was far too arrogant and needed to be taken down a few pegs.

  He’d just arched his annoying eyebrows and gone to make her the drink, presenting it to her with a flourish when he was done.

  So now she was trying to get down the whole whiskey sour so he wouldn’t think he’d scored a point against her.

  The asshole still hadn’t apologized, and she wasn’t going to let him win.

  She was still focusing with laser-like precision on her phone, struggling not to observe Lincoln’s friendly conversation with the regulars sitting at the bar and the others who came
up to order more drinks.

  He was acting like nothing was wrong, but she knew he was doing it on purpose. He wasn’t all that hard to read, and she could see tension in his shoulders and that he occasionally slanted her looks when he thought she wouldn’t notice.

  He wanted the fight to be over too.

  But he knew what he had to do to make that happen.

  She wasn’t going to do it for him.

  She loved the obnoxious asshole, but she was in the right here. He needed to apologize first.

  She was growing impatient with staring at her phone, however. As soon as she forced down the rest of her drink, she would go over and chat with Lance Carlyle and Savannah Emerson, who’d come into the bar a few minutes ago and were sitting at a table with some friends. They were always entertaining, and they’d distract her from Lincoln.

  She was peering at her phone so determinedly that she didn’t even notice when Savannah approached. Not until the other woman sat down beside her.

  “Are we in an argument with Lincoln tonight?” Savannah asked in a hushed tone of exaggerated subterfuge.

  Summer giggled. “Yes. We are.”

  “What did he do to us this time?” Savannah had big blue-gray eyes and a pretty, clever, and expressive face. She was giving Summer a sly smile.

  “He was an asshole. Unsurprisingly.” Summer considered Savannah a good friend now, but she wasn’t going to give the details of the argument. Even a stupid, trivial argument like the one she’d had with Lincoln this morning was part of their intimate relationship. It was private. She wasn’t going to spill to the world.

  “So you’re sitting here waiting for him to step down off his high horse and make it better?”

  “Yes. Exactly. He’s being very slow about stepping. The man is ridiculously stubborn.” Summer risked a quick look over and saw Lincoln pouring three glasses of white wine for a group of young women. He glanced over and met her eyes with a dry, fond amusement that went right to her heart. But she was strong. She narrowed her eyes coldly and turned back toward her friend.

  Savannah was laughing openly. “You two are hilarious.”

  “For someone who argues with her husband as much as you do, I’m not sure you’ve got any grounds for comment.”

  “Lance and I enjoy arguing most of the time. I’m not sure you really do. You should do something to speed things up.”

  “I would,” Summer admitted. “That’s why I came here. But I can’t think of anything else to do now that I’m here.”

  “I’m good at this sort of thing. I’ll think of something.” Savannah propped her head on her hand and thought for a minute. “I’ve got it. I’ll get Lance over here to flirt with you. That will get Lincoln going for sure. He’s pretty possessive, isn’t he? He always gets annoyed when guys flirt with you. I’d see him bristling about it long before you and he got together.”

  “Really?” Summer couldn’t help but like this piece of information.

  “Of course really. He was into you for a long time. Didn’t you know that? I’d see all kinds of soulful looks aimed in your direction over the years whenever you came to the bar.” Savannah straightened up and pulled out her phone from her purse. “So what do you say? You want to try it? I’ll text Lance right now and tell him to get on the job.”

  Summer shook her head reluctantly. “It’s a good idea, but it won’t work. He likes Lance. They’re friends. He’d know Lance would never flirt with me.”

  “That’s true. Oh, I know.” Savannah started texting quickly. “I’ll tell Lance to put Chris up to it. Chris is a friend of his visiting from grad school, so Lincoln has no idea who he is. I bet Chris will do it.”

  Summer was torn between giggling embarrassment and excitement. She never would have thought of such a thing herself, but the plan was too tempting to refuse. Plus Savannah had already finished whatever message she’d texted to her husband.

  Savannah’s eyes sparkled. “This is going to be so good. I’ll head back. Chris should be over here in just a minute. Don’t blow it by getting too nervous or embarrassed.”

  “I’ll do my best, but I’m not as good at this sort of thing as you are.”

  “You’ll do just fine. Just think about how obnoxious Lincoln is sometimes.”

  Summer took her friend’s advice and reviewed a long list of Lincoln’s obnoxiousness as Savannah left the bar to return to her husband and friends.

  Summer wasn’t good at a lot of things, and one of them was holding on to resentment. All through her mental list of grievances, other things kept popping into her mind. All the things she loved about Lincoln—from his laughing green eyes to all the lengths he went to in order to make her happy.

  So she wasn’t exactly stewing when an attractive man who looked around thirty sauntered over and took the stool Savannah had vacated. Chris leaned over toward her and murmured, “I was volunteered for this mission. I’m supposed to act like I’m coming on to you.”

  Summer giggled stupidly. “Sorry you got dragged into it. You’re clearly a very good friend.”

  “Hey, you’re not exactly unpleasant to be close to. I might come on to you for real if you weren’t already taken.” Chris reached over and lightly stroked her forearm, which was resting on the bar. He leaned even closer, smiling in a flirtatious way.

  Summer blushed dark red and forced herself not to look over at Lincoln. She smiled at Chris. Laughed. Didn’t pull her arm away from him even though she didn’t want another man touching her, even so casually.

  She held out as long as she could. When her eyes finally wrenched over in Lincoln’s direction, she immediately saw that the plan had worked.

  Lincoln was scowling fiercely and striding over in their direction. Before Summer knew what was happening, he’d come around the bar, taken Chris by the back collar of his shirt, and hauled him off the stool by force.

  Chris was a good sport. He was grinning as he returned to Lance and Savannah, who were both laughing their heads off.

  Summer was giggling helplessly when Lincoln took the stool he’d cleared of Chris. He gave her a narrow look. “I can’t believe you recruited other people into this thing.”

  “Hey, I didn’t do a thing. Savannah had an idea. She’s smart like that.”

  Lincoln’s expression softened deliciously. He cupped her face in one hand. “And you know perfectly well that I wouldn’t let some other guy get handsy with my wife.”

  “He wasn’t really handsy. He was just—”

  He leaned over to kiss her. “I’m sorry, baby. The whole thing was my fault. I was a dick. And I know better than to treat you that way.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.” She pulled away from him to realize that half the bar was watching them, most of them grinning. Savannah and Lance’s table was applauding.

  Lincoln gave her one more quick kiss before he stood up. “I’ll apologize more later when my shift is over. You going home?”

  “I might go hang out with Savannah and them for a while. I’ll see how much energy I have.”

  He stroked her loose hair before he reluctantly stepped away.

  Summer went to hang out, assuming she’d only stay a little while before heading back to their condo. But she had a great time, so she ended up staying a couple of hours.

  About half an hour after she’d joined Savannah’s table, Carter came into the bar with a date. Summer couldn’t remember the young woman’s name. This was just a first or second date. She was pretty and smiling, but Summer could tell from Carter’s expression that this probably wasn’t going to turn into something serious.

  Carter waved at Summer when he saw her, and she watched as he and his date walked up to the bar. She saw him extend a hand toward Lincoln, and she smiled when Lincoln reached over the bar to take it.

  The two men didn’t talk for very long, but the gesture made her happy. They’d been getting along well for the past several months. They were closer now than she’d ever known them to be.

  It was important
to her. It meant a lot. For both their sakes.

  Savannah must have seen her watching the Wilson brothers, because the other woman murmured, “I haven’t seen Carter with Tiff before. Is it serious?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “He hasn’t dated anyone serious for a long time.”

  “Yeah. No, he hasn’t.” Summer sighed. Carter seemed happy enough. She was pretty sure he’d gotten over whatever he’d been feeling for her early in the year. But she wanted him to be even happier.

  “He needs to find a girl. If anyone deserves to find the love of his life, it’s Carter.” It was like Savannah had read her mind.

  “I’d love it if he did, but no sign of it yet.”

  “Maybe we can help. Would he let us set him up, do you think?”

  “I... don’t know. Maybe.”

  “I think we should. I think we should call on every resource and make it our mission to find the right girl for him. I bet we could get him married off by the end of the year if we really work at it.”

  Summer glanced over at her friend. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. Why not? He’s obviously not having any success finding her on his own. Maybe he just needs our help. You want to?”

  With a shrug, Summer said, “Yeah. I guess it’s worth a try. Let’s work on it.”

  SUMMER TOOK A BATH when she got back home. It was a Friday evening, so she was in no particular hurry to get to bed. She wanted to be awake when Lincoln returned so they could talk. So they could really make up.

  She was dressed in pretty pink lingerie—a silk chemise and matching robe—and finishing a glass of wine on the couch when Lincoln got back.

  “Still awake?” he asked, dropping his keys on the entry table and strolling over to where she was stretched out on the couch. “You’re usually asleep on Friday evenings.”

  “I guess I had extra energy tonight.” She smiled at him, pleased when he lowered himself to the sofa, rearranging her slightly so he could climb on top of her.