There is a difference between not being an animal rights advocate and being able to sit through watching someone kick a puppy. I’ve never gotten to know any of Paul’s partners and this is why.
Isa sounds like a sweet woman—way too nice for Paul. She’s everything I hope he finds one day when he knows how to appreciate it.
Audrey looks me in the eye. “You did come looking for Paul, didn’t you? Why would you think he was with me?”
I’m not fucking saying anything.
Seeing Audrey again is making it hard for me to remember why being with her is a bad idea. I’m better off tracking down Paul and dragging his ass back to his room than staying here and starting something that can’t go anywhere but downhill. I don’t do relationships, and I’d be just as wrong for Audrey as Paul is for Isa.
“I’ve got to.” I should leave now. I should walk right out that door, but I’m drawn to Audrey again. “About earlier—”
She shakes her head and waves a hand at me to stop. “Please don’t.”
I can’t not touch her. I caress her cheek. “If we met anywhere else, under different circumstances, maybe—”
She steps back and opens the door. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Please just stop.”
I walk out into the hall and remind myself of all the reasons she’s not my type, no matter what my dick thinks. I’m frustrated as all hell, but I try to think of something to say that would leave her feeling better about what almost happened between us. She closes the door in my face before I find the right words.
I stride off, telling myself it’s for the best.
I text Zeke and Gage. Neither one has found him. On a whim, I head to Paul’s room. It’s unlocked. I swing the door open and see him sprawled facedown, spread-eagle across his bed, fully clothed and snoring like only a drunk man can.
I take a picture of him and send it to both Zeke and Gage with the caption: I should let you look for him all night, but he’s in his room fast asleep. Don’t give up your day jobs to become detectives.
Zeke: Good job, smart-ass.
Gage: Thank God.
Even though he deserves it, I can’t leave Paul like this. I text my assistant and tell him to secure a few bottles of water as well as some ibuprofen. I give him Paul’s room number and tell him he discretely needs to ensure that Paul is alive and on his feet tomorrow.
Todd earns his next bonus by saying he’ll watch over him and call in medical staff only if absolutely necessary.
I shake Paul by his shoulder.
He groans but opens his eyes and tries to focus on me. “What?”
I’m no one to talk, but I hear myself say, “Don’t fuck around on Isa. She deserves better than that.”
Paul gives me the saddest eyes. “You think she’s too good for me?”
Why bother to lie? He won’t remember this anyway. “Today? Yes. Don’t marry her if you can’t be good to her. Don’t be that guy.” I hate that guy. My father was unfaithful to my mother before and during their short marriage. I don’t want to see Paul in that light.
“Should I call it off?” he asks in an almost unintelligible slur as his eyes close again.
“You should grow the fuck up.” My words are wasted because he’s already snoring.
I let myself out and make my way back to my own room. I don’t hate Paul. It’s not his fault he’s soft. He’s the uncertain person his smothered childhood created.
Just as I’m the hardened dick mine required me to be to survive.
If either of our lives had been different we might have become better versions of ourselves. I don’t hold out much hope of us changing now.
Back in my room, I strip and take a long shower. I don’t want to think about the confusion I saw in Audrey’s eyes when I stepped out of the bathroom. I haven’t changed my original opinion of her as a bad idea for me. In fact, if anything, spending time with her has given credence to it.
My mother was fragile. Questions were too much for her to handle. Any hint that I wasn’t happy sent her off into tears and then in search of alcoholic escape. I don’t dance around people’s feelings anymore. I don’t have to.
I’m neither proud nor ashamed of that fact. I am who I am.
Someone like me would crush Audrey without even meaning to.
I let the hot spray wash over me. If Isa hadn’t shown up I would be holding a very naked, very sated Audrey in my arms. The hunger I feel when I’m near her would have been fed, but I would be asking myself how long I had to stay and how the hell to let it not affect the wedding weekend. Some women can fuck and forget. Audrey is not one of them.
Doing the right thing would be a whole lot easier if I hadn’t kissed her. I knew when I carried her it would be good—I just didn’t know how good. I’ve had my good share of partners, and I enjoy a good fuck as much as the next guy. This was intense, though. This would have been the kind of fuck that gets a man in trouble because it disengages his brain.
I don’t need to do a line of cocaine to know the high isn’t worth it. Through sheer determination I’ve forged a life any man would want. I apologize for nothing, owe no one, and am completely free of the emotional baggage caring about a needy person brings. My friends are like me. We have each other’s backs, but none of us require coddling.
Except Paul—but only when he’s attempting to lead someone to the altar. If he’s smart, he’ll call it off tomorrow morning and be back to normal by next week.
His mother’s going to be furious.
I don’t have sympathy for her. You reap what you sow.
I turn off the water, grab a towel, and dry off. As I pad into my bedroom I see my phone on the bedside table, and I’m tempted to text Audrey. I don’t like that I left the way I did. Like Isa, she deserves better.
I pick up my phone and consider asking her if she’s okay.
What would I do if she said she isn’t?
I could apologize.
I’m not sorry, though.
I toss the towel and slide between the bedsheets with the phone still in my hand. I need to say something. We’ll not only see each other tomorrow, but we’ll spend quite a bit of it together. She needs to know it doesn’t have to be strained between us.
I scroll through my contacts and realize I don’t have her number.
I roll over and flip off the light.
I could get it from Todd. Guaranteed he asked her for it when he saw her about the dress. If he didn’t, which I highly doubt, he could get it off Paul’s phone while he’s over there babysitting him.
I punch my pillow and roll onto my back.
I would go that far if I cared enough to—but I don’t.
I see her face when I close my eyes. I inhale and remember her sweet scent. The bedsheet tents as I remember how she felt in my arms, how good she tasted.
The faint sound of music outside means people are still celebrating. I could get dressed and prowl, but I don’t want to. Instead I send Todd a quick text with instructions on something I want him to arrange for the next morning. It bothers me that Audrey is in pain.
It shouldn’t. She’s no one to me.
I roll over again and angrily stuff the pillow under my head.
It’s going to be a long night.
CHAPTER SIX
Audrey
I check the itinerary Isa gave us all when we arrived. Eight a.m. massages followed by breakfast then the beauty squad arrives early afternoon and it’s all hair, nails, and makeup. Good, I want to stay busy enough to not think about how I threw myself at Barrett last night.
In yoga pants with a loose T-shirt, I stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom and tie my hair back in a ponytail. I look tired. Even though I went to bed early, I didn’t sleep well. I wish I could blame it on leg discomfort, but my issues last night were all in my head.
Like a cat chasing its tail, my thoughts went round and round. I’m a positive person generally. I like my life. Sure, it could be better, but it could also be a hell of a lot wo
rse. I read a book once that said the secret to happiness is to measure yourself against yourself and not others. Life is not a race—it’s a journey. There will always be someone smarter, thinner, richer, or better looking. Happiness comes from being the best version of you.
This isn’t my best, but it’s the best I can do right now. I’m getting stronger every day. In a blink of an eye this time in my life will be a vague memory along the way to something else.
Crying all over Barrett then practically offering myself up to him as an evening snack will be a story I’ll confess to Isa someday. We might actually laugh about it. It doesn’t feel funny yet, though.
If I allow myself a moment of selective memory, it was pretty incredible to be in Barrett’s arms. Yeowza. The memory of that kiss brings color to my cheeks and a smile to my lips. Yes, it was that good.
I know it’s not going to happen, but I imagine him at my door when I open it. I’d try not to look excited to see him, but I would be. He would come up with an excuse for seeking me out again, but we’d both know it was because he had spent all night thinking about me. I’d smile. He’d smile. We’d fall into each other’s arms and know it was meant to be.
A loud knock on my door breaks into my fantasy. Oh, shit, is that him? I hate that I have no makeup on at all. I tuck in a loose strand, smooth my T-shirt, and rush to answer the door.
It’s Cassidy—Gage’s fiancée and a bridesmaid. I force a smile. She’s dressed in a light pink linen dress and her makeup is flawless. Did we get the same itinerary?
“Isa is heading down to the spa. How long do you need before you’re ready?” Cassidy asks coolly as she gives me a once-over.
I grab my sneakers and sit on the corner of my bed to put them on. “One minute.” I stand. “All set. Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Isa asked me to.” Cassidy’s nose wrinkles up and her expression leaves little question of her opinion of what I’m wearing. I want to like her. She’s marrying one of Paul’s best friends. That means she’ll be part of Isa’s life. We don’t have to be best buds, but it’s important to me that we get along—for Isa.
“I appreciate it anyway. I’m excited—this is my first massage.” I stuff my phone into my purse and join Cassidy in the hall.
As we make our way toward the stairs, Cassidy asks, “How do you know Isa?”
“We grew up together.”
“Really? I had no idea she came from—” She clears her throat delicately. “She must feel very fortunate to have met someone like Paul.”
Someone with money? She doesn’t have to say it. Her opinion of why Isa is with Paul is painfully clear. Would Isa hate me or thank me if I pushed her down the stairs? I won’t, but thinking about it makes it easier to keep my thoughts to myself. I’m not here to fight with a fellow bridesmaid. Today isn’t about me. As long as she doesn’t mess with Isa, she’s safe.
Thankfully Isa is at the end of the hall with Zeke’s wife, Lia. They are waving for us to join them. Isa says, “You’re right on time. Perfect. We’ll head down together.”
I want to ask Isa if she heard from Paul yet, but there’s no way I’m saying anything in front of the other ladies, Cassidy in particular. I actually like Lia. She’s pregnant, but barely showing even though she’s several months along and as sweet as they come.
Isa links arms with me and ducks her head down near mine. “I already spoke to the massage therapist who will work on you. She promises to work magic on it.”
Everything else ceases to matter. This is Isa’s day, and I can’t believe she’s thinking about me—I am so grateful to have her in my life. “I’m sure I’ll love every minute of it. Thank you so much, Isa.”
The spa attendants hand out glasses of champagne, Lia has a water instead, then they lead us to separate rooms. An hour later I have a whole new appreciation for the benefit of massage. She spent twenty or so minutes running her hands from my toes to my knee on my injured leg, saying it would help with the swelling. I couldn’t imagine that the light touch was doing much, but my foot feels great.
She tells me to relax and come out when I’m ready. I sit up, clutching my sheet to my chest. “My purse,” I say. I need to tip her.
“No need. I was well taken care of already.”
I relax back down. “Thank you so much. My leg hasn’t been this relaxed in a long time.”
She smiles down at me. “I’m glad to hear that. I work at the main island hospital in pain management.”
“Do you do many weddings?”
“This is my first.”
I blink back a wave of gratitude. “Thank you for making an exception for me. I’m sorry I’m all emotional. It’s just that I am overwhelmed at how far my friend has gone to make sure I’m comfortable.”
“Friend or perhaps there is more there?” she asks with a smile as she tidies the room.
“Just friends. She’s already taken,” I joke. “At least by tonight she will be.”
“She? It was a man who requested me.” She taps a finger on her chin as she tries to remember his name. “A Mr. Natick? His assistant contacted me.”
“Barrett Natick? Are you sure? We just met yesterday. I don’t think he would—When did he request you?”
“Early this morning. It was my day off so I almost refused, but your friend is very generous when he wants something. I’m glad it was worth it for you. It was definitely worth my time.” She walks to the door. “Just met him yesterday? Well, you must have made quite an impression on him.”
“I guess. Thanks.” My thoughts race as I hop off the massage table and begin to dress again. Why would Barrett have gone to the trouble of making sure my massage was done by a medical professional? Because he cares or because he doesn’t want me to be an issue today?
We just met. I need to keep my feet planted in reality.
I slide my shirt over my head and chuckle as a thought occurs to me. Maybe he wanted to make sure I’m as limber as possible for the wild lovemaking session he’s planning for later.
I slip on my sneakers and take a fortifying breath. More likely he wants to escort a maid of honor who can actually walk.
I smile again—but it doesn’t hurt to dream. Maybe men are into one little leg and one big one. I shake my head. Hey, it feels good to laugh even if it’s at myself.
I meet back up with the ladies in the reception area. They look as relaxed as I feel—well, Isa and Lia do. Cassidy has a resting bitch face. Who knows, though, that might be her happy look. I laugh, she glares at me, I laugh again.
“You’re happy,” Isa says.
“I feel great. This was such a good idea.” If we didn’t have an audience I would tell her about the role Barrett played, but it can wait. That’s the perk of a lifer friend. We’ll have plenty of time to talk when she returns from her honeymoon.
“I thought we’d all want breakfast, but I’m keen for a shower now. How about you?”
“Definitely.”
The others agree. At the top of the stairs, Isa asks, “Is everyone okay with regrouping around one? I’ll have lunch brought to my suite.” She wags a finger at me. “Don’t forget your dress. Everyone else’s is already there.”
“I won’t,” I promise. Oh, crap, my dress. Todd wrote his number on a piece of paper that’s back in my room. Being able to skip breakfast is a reprieve I forgot was necessary.
Alone in the hall I hesitate and glance in the wing with the groom’s suite. Is Barrett’s room there? Is he still sleeping or are the men out as a group? I glance at the time on my phone. It’s only nine thirty. My guess is they’re still sleeping.
I hear someone coming up the stairs and rush to open my door. I’ve added a layer of oil to my relaxed look and prefer to shower before anyone else sees me.
“Audrey,” Barrett calls out.
I freeze. I could pretend I didn’t hear him. After yesterday I was really hoping to see him after the glam squad pretties me up.
I glance over my shoulder. He’s striding toward me in
running shorts and a T-shirt. His face is flushed as if he’s fresh from either a run or the gym. Some people get better looking the less clothing they wear, and Barrett is one of those people. His powerful thighs flex as he walks. He uses a towel to wipe sweat from his forehead, naturally highlighting his flat abs, muscular chest, and strong arms. My knees go a little weak when I remember how close I’d come to knowing that body intimately.
“Morning, Barrett.” I try to sound friendly but unaffected.
“I was hoping I’d see you.” He stops just a foot from me and looks me over. The heat in his gaze is enough for me to forget how I look.
“Well, here I am.” He wants to see me. Easy, tiger. He probably wants to give me the dress. “Oh, before I forget, thank you for finding a massage therapist with medical training.”
He leans a hand on the wall beside me. “Feeling better?”
“Oh, yes, so good.” Better than I should feel. I remind myself I don’t know him, but my body argues that I do. I’m old enough to know this feeling doesn’t happen every day. In fact, I can’t remember the last man who made my body quiver simply by standing close. It’s crazy. “That was such a nice thing to do. Seriously, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I wish he would smile. He just gives me that intent look that makes me want to shake him a little. “Did Todd get your dress back to you?”
Todd? Dress? I don’t want to think about anything beyond his dark eyes. I tighten my hand on the doorknob to my room. “I don’t know. I haven’t been in my room for a while.”
“Check. If it’s not back I’ll call him.”
“That’s not necessary. I have his number.”
“Check.”
I drag my gaze away from him and push the door to my room open. Neatly wrapped in a clear bag, the dress is hanging in the closet. “It’s here.”
He’s standing in the doorway, not in the room, no longer in the hallway. “I slept like shit.” His voice is a soft growl.
Desire licks through me. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was your fault . . . the temptation of coming back to you to finish what we started tortured me all night. Tell me to leave, Audrey. I’m a selfish man. I know you deserve better than I’m offering you, but I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t want more than a taste. What do you want, Audrey? Tell me.”
Almost a Wedding Page 4
