She grabbed my hand and I ignored the sudden jolt of awareness that surged up my limb from where her fingers came in contact with mine.
“C’mon,” she laughed with a tug on my arm. “We have to dance. It is literally written into the lyrics that we dance in the rain.”
“Actually, it’s getting caught in the—”
She didn’t let me finish as she yanked me to my feet and dragged me to the middle of the dance floor. Admittedly, dragged might be too strong of a word. I was pretty sure I’d have followed Rosa anywhere.
We moved together on the dance floor, and while neither of us was overtly sexual or inappropriate, we just… fit. She threw her hands into the air, bouncing around, and my hands fell to her hips as they swayed and hit each beat of the music perfectly.
When she turned around, she continued dancing, her back to me. Her curly hair fell over one shoulder, the smooth skin of her neck and ear revealed, so close to me that I could smell the mixture of her shampoo and the perfume she wore. I leaned in and whispered, “Tell me what you were going to say before. What you wish for…”
The lean column of her throat tightened—one of Rosa’s tells that she was nervous—and she wet her lips before answering. “I wish that for one night, we could be different people. That you weren’t Noah Tripp with a strict diet, and an image, and a brand to uphold. And that I wasn’t Rosa Alvarez, daughter of a senator. I wish we could just be two people who met, got drunk, and had an incredible night together.”
My head spun and I wasn’t sure if it was the boldness of her statement or those two shots beginning to hit me. Molten lava replaced my blood and I felt my cock get hard. “But you said you didn’t think we could—”
“I know. I know what I said. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want it. Even if it can’t happen.”
I swallowed hard, and in the position we were in, with Rosa looking over her shoulder at me, our mouths were so close that all it would take was an inch of pressing forward to take her lips in mine. “So, what now?”
Her gaze wandered my face. “Now…we dance.”
Reid
Two hours later…
“Where the hell did they go?” Hazel asked, leaning her cheek on my shoulder as we walked the boardwalk. It was almost three in the morning and yet, still so much of Atlantic City was still alive and partying. But our two best friends were nowhere to be found.
I lifted my wife’s hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Tonight couldn’t have been more perfect. “They’re probably at the chapel. I left my jacket there by accident, and Noah said he would grab it for me.”
Hazel gave me a look and I lifted my thumb to swipe at a bit of mascara that had smudged beneath her eye from the rain that rolled through. “That was almost an hour ago that he left.”
I shrugged. “I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. They might have gone back to the hotel to crash after grabbing my jacket.”
Hazel shook her head, tendrils of dark hair shaking loose from the French twist at the nape of her neck. “No way. Rosa is not the kind of friend who leaves a wedding—much less my wedding—without at least saying goodbye.”
We crossed the boardwalk, nearing the 24-hour chapel where we’d gotten married a few hours earlier. Hazel huffed a sigh. “All I know is, last I saw them, they were doing more shots at the bar. I haven’t seen Rosa do that many shots since she aced her exams last year.”
I chuckled at that. “I know what you mean. Noah’s trainer is so damn strict, he’s barely allowed to eat carbs, let alone do shots.”
Hazel sighed. “On the bright side, maybe they finally hooked up? Years of watching those two—”
Beside me, Hazel froze, halting both mid-step and mid-sentence. Her hand clenched around mine and I looked back at her, confused… worried. “What’s wrong?”
Shock registered across her slack-jawed face. Her eyes wide and horrified as she looked ahead and lifted her finger, pointing at something in front of us.
When I turned to look, I found Noah and Rosa stumbling out of the chapel. Their arms were entwined like they were barely holding each other upright.
Noah wore a comical top hat and carried a cane in his hand… while Rosa wore a veil.
“They couldn’t have,” Hazel whispered, horrified.
I shook my head, opening my mouth to speak, but no words formed.
Before I could answer my wife, Rosa slid her hand around the back of Noah’s neck and kissed him. But the kiss wasn’t the most disconcerting thing—it was the massive diamond ring on her left hand.
Keep an eye out for Noah and Rosa’s full story, coming soon!
Your Next Laugh Out Loud Comedy is Right Around the Corner…
Beefcakes, a Maple Grove Romantic Comedy Spin-off, is NOW AVAILABLE! Keep reading for a peek of Chapter One…
My Jeep hit a bump in the road, and my brother Liam and I bounced up off our seats, nearly hitting our heads on the top of the car.
“Fuck! Easy, Neil!” Liam shouted, turning around in his seat and trying to get a look at the two dozen decorated cupcakes that were carefully stacked in the back.
“Sorry,” I grunted. “Fucking potholes. You’d think New Hampshire would be on top of fixing them after winter.”
“Or,” Liam rolled his eyes, “you could just drive carefully.”
I leaned my bare arm out the window, enjoying the hot sun against my skin. “Why the hell did Mom book a cupcake delivery that was forty-five minutes away?”
Liam’s silence was deafening—if silence could ever be such a thing. I snuck a glance to my right, catching the hard set of his jaw before he finally huffed a sigh and answered, “Because,” he said, “while you were on the other side of the country working on that tan of yours, she and I, along with Addison and Finn, were doing everything in our power to keep her bakery afloat. And that included taking deliveries outside of the normal zone.”
Damn, he got me there. Liam, Finn, and Addy had taken care of Mom while I was trying to get my ducks in a row to move back home to the East coast. Even still… it wasn’t my fault that a cross country move can’t be done in a day. It’s even slower when your arm is in a sling.
“Hey—I packed up and moved back home as soon as I could after Mom’s diagnosis.”
Liam leveled me with a glare that I only caught out of the corner of my eye, opting to keep my attention on the road.
“And what if you hadn’t hurt your shoulder?” He lifted his chin in the direction of my arm, which was stronger now, though not entirely healed yet. “What are the chances you would have moved back to help if you hadn’t lost your job?”
Damn. Harsh.
“I would have packed a bag if I’d known we’d be going on this guilt trip,” I mumbled.
“It’s not a guilt trip,” he said. “It’s the truth.” He paused, fiddling with the seatbelt cutting across his chest and wrinkling his shirt. “But if you must know, bachelorette parties and weddings pay exceptionally well. It’s worth the extra driving time.”
“If they pay so well, remind me again how you guys got so deep into debt?”
He didn’t answer me, even though I knew he heard me.
Liam’s gaze flicked to my bare torso. “Remind me again why you have to drive with no shirt on?”
Right. So, there’s a few things you should probably know about me:
1) I was Mr. Universe, Mr. Zeus, Mr. Olympia and Cosmo’s most Eligible Bachelor three years in a row. I’m not bragging, I swear (okay, I might be bragging a little).
2) I left bodybuilding because the scene in Los Angeles was the fucking worst and I never want to set foot on another stage again. I still work out—just not as often. And I don’t gloat as much about it.
3) After leaving competition life, I worked as a stuntman in Hollywood for Silhouette Studios until I tore my rotator cuff three months ago. Stuntman career basically over.
4) I’ve never taken steroids. Lastly,
5) I don’t believe you must deprive your
self of delicious food to look and feel your best. That’s just bullshit.
Okay, that was a lot, I know. But it’s important.
I gripped the wheel tighter as Liam asked again, “Well? Why exactly are you driving shirtless?”
I loved my little brother. I really did. I just wish I knew why everything I did—literally, everything—seemed to annoy him. I shot him a pointed look. “Dude, look at your shirt.”
Liam glanced down, running his palm over the white button down he wore. It was already littered with wrinkles, and we weren’t even there yet. Based on the huff he gave, he saw them too.
“I drive without a shirt to avoid those wrinkles you’ve got going on there.” Also, it’s summer in New Hampshire. The most amazing season for this state, and I’d be damned if I didn’t soak up every incredible second of summer before the God-awful winter rolled back in. If there was one thing, and one thing only, I missed about California… it was the weather. Well, if I was being honest, I missed my job as a stuntman, too. If only I didn’t have to be based in LA to do it.
“Fine, whatever.” Liam gave me his signature eye roll. Because he knew I was right. And he was probably wishing he too had thought to take his shirt off before hopping into my passenger seat. He was a good-looking guy. Hell, he was my brother… of course he was. He had a good torso, muscular. Not as muscular as me of course, but then again, he didn’t exercise as a profession for almost a decade. We worked out together at the gym a lot. Despite the fact that he always seemed annoyed with me, we still spent most of our time together. He was my best friend—even if I wasn’t his.
“Just please drive—”
We hit another pothole, jostling the Jeep once more. This time, even I winced.
“—carefully,” Liam sighed.
Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the beachfront rental. I didn’t quite know what to expect from the bachelorette party, but Mom said she knew the family of the girl getting married and we had to be extra nice to them.
I wasn’t sure I trusted my mother’s opinion on this, though. She didn’t see the side of these “sweet girls” that I saw after midnight downtown. Four shots in, and those sweet, faithful brides turned into amateur strippers, egged on by their friends, who were also downing lemon drops.
I put the Jeep in park and climbed out, opening the backseat and inspecting my dress shirt hanging there—not a wrinkle on it.
Liam, on the other hand, looked like he had pulled his shirt out of the dirty pile in his hamper. He moved to the back of the Jeep, throwing open the hatch. “Son of a bitch, Neil!” he hissed with a careful glance over his shoulder toward the house behind him.
I made my way to the back of the Jeep, still shirtless, and grimaced as I saw what he was pissed about.
Shit. I guess he was right that we should have taken the highway, not the bumpy back roads. At the very least, I guess I shouldn’t have been going fifteen over the speed limit.
The back of the car looked like a food fight had erupted. There were cupcakes scattered everywhere. The icing, which earlier that morning had been beautifully piped into various flowers, was now smeared throughout the interior of the box we had so carefully placed them into.
I gulped. “Maybe it’s just the top row of cupcakes ruined?” I offered, but even I knew that wasn’t likely. Not from the sight I saw in the trunk. Somehow, despite our most careful packing, my snowboard had fallen over on top of the cupcakes, smashing them to oblivion.
Shit.
Think, Neil, think.
“Why do you even have your snowboard back here?” Liam snapped. “It’s fucking May!”
“The snow only just melted a few weeks ago, asshole. I just haven’t found a place to store it in my cabin, yet.” My small, one-bedroom cabin.
Liam shook his head, and I tried my best to ignore the heavy, disappointed sigh that came from my right.
I tugged my snowboard off the cupcakes and looked at the hook I was certain had been so secure when we left. Yet again, Liam had been right. He had begged me to clear out the back of my Jeep before we left. But I swear, I’d been driving with that snowboard clipped there for two months, and it’d been fine.
“One, two, three, four…” I counted the salvageable cupcakes, “… and a half.”
“Four and a half?” Liam spat through gritted teeth. “Are you fucking kidding me? What are we supposed to do with half a cupcake? That’s not even enough for each girl at the party to have one cupcake!”
I drew in a deep breath and lunged for the industrial sized Tupperware we had packed alongside the damaged cupcakes. “Look, this is why we always bake extra and bring more buttercream.”
“We only ever bring a few. We have maybe six undecorated cupcakes as a backup.”
I swallowed. That wasn’t quite true. “I have the dozen sugar-free, grain-free cupcakes I baked for Mom in here,” I said. “We can use those and decorate another dozen or so now, out here, before we go in. This will be fine.”
“Aren’t those meant for Mom because of her cancer?”
“Well, yeah. But they’re healthy for anyone to eat.” Linda Evans loves her sweets, but the chemo took its toll on her appetite. And since cancer cells feed on grains and sugar, I started making these so that she wouldn’t have to give up her beloved cupcakes. “Besides,” I sighed. “They’re delicious. I doubt the party will even know.”
“So… you want us to serve creatine cupcakes to ten bachelorettes?” he hissed.
“They’re baked with protein powder… not creatine.” I pursed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut briefly. “And unless you have a better option, I think this is our only shot right now at saving this for Mom. Are you going to help or not?” I asked, holding out the icing bag toward him.
He snatched the bag from my hands. “It took us hours to frost those cupcakes in the shape of peonies,” Liam said, his voice rising.
I glanced to the front door of the beach house, and through an open window, I watched the silky curtains billow as a light breeze caught them.
“Shh,” I hissed. “They’ll hear you.”
“This is your fault,” Liam said, his voice back to a whisper. “When are you going to take responsibility? Things were fine before. We were doing fine, just Finn, Addy, Mom, and me.”
Yeah, right. Mom had called me three months ago practically begging me to come home and help Liam. Her cancer was taking its toll on her. She had thought she could handle treatments and keep her business afloat, but she’d been wrong.
I rolled my eyes in spite of my brother and massaged the cold buttercream in my hands to warm it up. “Can we save the lecture for later? Right now, let’s focus on salvaging this delivery.”
I looked at Liam, his emerald eyes scrutinizing me before they widened, looking to the house and back to me. “I have an idea,” he said. “It’s sort of out there, though.”
At this point, I’d take a fucking crazy idea if it saved our asses. Because as much as I hated to admit it, Liam was right. This was my fault.
He set down the pastry bag, holding his hands out, looking at the stuff we had brought. “Did you bring butter and confectioner’s sugar?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “In the cooler. Why?”
“I’m having what I think is a genius idea,” he said. “We do this two-fold. The girls can decorate their own cupcakes… learn from me how to pipe flowers and peonies onto their own cupcakes.”
My brows lifted. “That could work,” I said. “Women love DIY and Pinterest shit, right?”
He rolled his eyes at me. “Pinterest shit. Right.”
“What’s the second part of the idea?”
Liam chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before he grabbed one of the demolished cupcakes in the back seat and swiped the icing onto my bare chest.
I blinked, taking a step back in shock. “What. The. Serious. Fuck.”
But he didn’t stop. He grabbed a second cupcake and did the same thing.
“Dude,” I said aga
in. “I’m going to kill you. What are you doing?”
He grinned wickedly at me. “It’s a bachelorette party,” he said. “They can learn how to pipe flowers from me, but also decorate their own cupcakes off of Mr. Universe’s chest."
“Ex-Mr. Universe.” My hand went to my hair and a sudden heaviness landed in my chest. I pushed it down, ignoring the empty feeling that came whenever someone mentioned my title.
We each hoisted the cupcakes and cooler out of the Jeep. “It’s not like the Mr. Universe competition broke up with you. You just passed the title on to the next winner.”
He had no idea how abusive that contest was. How much they pushed you and forced you to change your body in the most unnatural ways. Mr. Universe wasn’t about being the healthiest… it was about being the largest. I happily passed that title on to the next person. I shook the thoughts away, leaving thoughts of my previous life behind as the gravel crunched beneath my loafers. Even though I hated wearing anything but my sneakers and flip flops, Mom would have whupped our butts if we had shown up to deliver cupcakes in flip flops.
I glanced down at my bare chest, covered in frosting. Jesus. Imagine what she’d say about this?
“Look,” Liam whispered, “We need something to get us out of this mess. And a bachelorette party that gets to decorate cupcakes off a man’s chest? They’ll go nuts for it.”
Shit. I wanted to be mad for being treated like a piece of meat… but he was right. It was a genius idea—a genius idea to get us out of the mess I’d gotten us into in the first place.
I paused in thought for a brief moment as he looked at me, brows raised. “Fuck,” I hissed and dove my hand into the demolished cupcakes, following Liam’s lead and spreading more icing all over my torso. “I hate you,” I said.
“I know.” He paused a few steps away from the door. Setting the cooler down, Liam unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off, then tied an apron on over his bare torso.
“What’s that for?”
Directing You Page 15
