Nadia waves a hand dismissively. “Mom and dad are complicated. You know that as well I do. They hate each other as much as they love each other.” She takes another sip and this time, there’s less of a cringe. More of a satisfied grin on her mouth.
I should try and get as much conversation out of her as soon as possible because it won’t be long until I’m playing babysitter.
“He didn’t bring someone with him, did he? Another woman.” Things could go from zero to explosive in no time if mom gets her jealousy buttons pushed.
Nadia kind of shudders. “Oh god, no. Thankfully. He’s riding solo these days. His words not mine. I think he’s going through this whole emotional revival phase.”
I sigh in relief.
"So, as previously disclosed, I am attending this function without accompaniment." She stretches her arms out wide to draw attention to the empty seats on either side of her. "As such I shall be dining at the singles' table. Do say that you shall be joining me, fair maiden.”
"Firstly, you won't be at the singles’ table because you're in the wedding party. All the bridesmaids sit together. And secondly..." I draw the word out. "I'm kind of sort of bringing someone."
Her eyes light up like someone flipped the switch on. ”Details…" she demands, pounding both fists into the table excitedly and giving me that authoritarian older sister look that she perfected by the age of five.
“Ah, it’s nothing,” I say. “Just an old friend. You remember Charlie? Reese’s brother?”
Nadia’s lips pucker. “Oh, he was cuutttteee.”
Chuckling deep in my chest, I bring my glass to my lips. “Don’t even.”
“So are you two seeing each other?” She drags her chair closer for the scoop.
“Oh hell no! Charlie’s not the type of guy to date. And even if he were, I wouldn’t ever go there. He’s a friend.”
“So what?”
“Uh, as you yourself just pointed out, getting romantically involved with a friend is a disastrous idea.”
She shakes her head. “There are some men you have to make an exception for. It’s not a matter of choice, it’s a matter of biology. If Charlie looks even half as fuck-worthy as I remember, I’d say he might be worth the risk.”
“Nuh-uh. A guy like Charlie is just six feet, three inches of heartbreak waiting to happen. He’s an unapologetic womanizer.” I sip my drink. “I inherited the batshit crazy recessive gene from Cleo and I’d like very much to keep it dormant. Charlie is the kind of man who would wake it right up.”
She considers my words, no doubt replaying all the times our mom toilet papered one of her ex-husband’s cars or spread garbage all over his mistress’s lawn. Jealousy sometimes turns the women in my lineage into freaks. Nadia slumps back into her chair with a disappointed growl. “I guess you’re right. It’s too bad, though because he always did seem to have the hots for you?” “Me?” I lift a brow in shock.
Angling her chin, she deadpans. “Don’t tell me you never noticed the way he would looks at you. I know you’re not blind.”
“You have an overactive imagination.” I drink again. “You should have gone into fiction writing instead of law.”
“You’re either being modest or you’re in denial. The guy wanted you. Even back then, I could tell.”
My stomach is all twisted up now with a nervous anticipation. Is she right? Can’t be. She hasn’t seen me with Charlie in years. And even back then, he never noticed me. I was just his sister’s pathetic friend who was in constant need of his protection. I was a burden. Nothing else.
Nadia holds my gaze, as if waiting for me to realize that she’s right. She isn’t. She’s wrong. She couldn’t be more wrong.
Thankfully, right then, the provocative music begins and someone switches off all the lights at the back of the room. I press my finger to my lips. “Shhh…The show is about to start.” I fake eagerness just to put an end to the conversation.
But my sister has long forgotten the whole Charlie discussion in her tipsy haze. “I hope you walked with enough dollar bills.” She opens her purse, ready to throw money at the dancer.
The seemingly prim and proper old ladies are already starting to get loose. Grandma’s friend, Delores, makes a walking-stick-assisted dash for the stage. I laugh. “I hope you walked with a defibrillator.”
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie
I toss the keys to the valet and round the sleek, black Cadillac, opening the door for Nova. She moves gingerly out of the passenger’s seat, stepping onto the sidewalk.
One look at her and I lose my breath all over again.
She’s in this thin-strap dress that hugs her curvaceous hips and sort of flutters out at the bottom. The heart-shaped neckline cradles her breasts like a sacred offering to the gods and the shimmery cobalt material makes her dazzle like a mermaid lounging in the sun. But when she turns her back to me, to admire the elaborate floral arch framing the main entrance of Reyfield’s gothic-style Presbyterian church, I catch a glimpse of that ass, round and luscious. A reminder that she may look soft and delicate, but she’s a vixen by nature.
As she turns back to me, she catches me staring. The smile on her lips freezes. Her brows furrow with concern. “What’s that funny look on your face?”
“You actually clean up pretty nice, that’s all.” I’m well aware of the rumble in my voice when I say the words. I don’t even care to hide it.
A coy smile quirks up one corner of her mouth. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she tells me. Her hands fall to my chest and she straightens the square of fabric peeking out of the breast pocket of my tuxedo jacket. I wonder if she can feel how hard my heart is pounding in my chest, how frantically my blood is pulsing through my veins.
The last time she touched me, we were alone in a changing room. She was undressing me. The possibilities were endless. The memory is still vivid in my head.
I brush a golden curl away from her brow and lower my face so my eyes are looking directly into hers. “But seriously, you look so beautiful, Nova. Stunning.”
She tries to play it off, but I see the way her eyes shine coyly. “Okay, Mr. Rent-A-Date, if you think you’re getting a bigger tip for showering me with flattery, you’d better think again.”
“I never lie to you, Butterfly. I mean whatever I say. You should know that by now.”
Her gaze moves back to mine and she searches my eyes as if looking for evidence that I’m only joking. She won’t find it. I think she’s the epitome of feminine beauty. I would never lie about that.
I’m still reeling from the day in the changing room. I came so close to kissing her. So close to crushing her into the wall, pushing my hand under her skirt, feeling the shape and the heft of that ass in my palms. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
Trust me, I’ve tried.
I threw myself into a few grueling days on the worksite. I sparred with Leo at the gym for a solid two hours. I stared at the screen of my phone for about an hour last night but not one of the names in my contact list could tempt me into another meaningless fuck. The thought of being with another woman just wasn’t appealing to me. I hate to admit to myself just how much I’ve been looking forward to this moment, standing here on these church steps with this beautiful girl.
Looking at her nebulous face, I can’t tell what she’s thinking. She’s always been strictly neutral toward me, even when I’ve flexed and flaunted my muscles half-naked in front of her. But after what happened in that changing room, she must have felt something, right? Her feelings must have changed, right?
I can’t tell.
She takes a step back and watches after the car as the valet drives it away. “You really didn’t have to rent a car for today. That wasn’t necessary and I definitely didn’t factor it into my budget.”
“What? We were supposed to roll up to this classy event in my pick-up truck with the cement dust and construction buckets in the back?”
“We could have taken my car,�
�� she suggests.
I laugh in my chest. “Yeah right. That thing is a disgrace.”
She fists a hand on her hip and gives me all kinds of attitude. “It’s a classic.”
“My tux is a classic,” I tell her. “Your car is a piece of shit.”
“Well that’s just offensive.” She snorts through her nose as well-dressed people stride around us, filtering into the church.
“I didn’t get dressed up in my finest just to end the night giving your car a push-start after the reception. That would just be in poor taste, don’t you think?”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. When her gaze moves over my shoulder, she ducks down her head, hiding her face behind her little purse. “Oh shit, here come Uncle Jerry and his wife, Josephine.”
Confused, I stare in the direction of the harmless-looking older couple moving arm-in-arm toward the concrete steps. “Who them?” I point a finger over that way. “They look nice. We should go say hi.”
She knocks my hand out of the air like a fly swatter chasing after a wasp. “Hell no,” she hisses. “We’re not going over there. Let’s get the hell inside the church before they come over here and try to guilt us into going to their weekly prayer meetings.”
Chuckling, I loop my arm through hers and her fingers grip my bicep as we climb the stairs. My mouth goes dry but I try to play it cool. “Weekly prayer meeting? Sounds like a treat.”
She’s concentrating on the hem of her dress, holding it up to keep from tripping. “Yeah, sure—until they ask you to fork over the 40 dollar entrance fee!”
“What?!” I choke out.
Her eyes ask me why I’m surprised. “My family is crazy. I told you.” She mutters against my shoulder as we step through the church’s arched doorway.
When Nova goes off to join the rest of the bridal party, I find myself a seat in the crowded, little church. The gray-haired groom stands at the front of the chapel, leaning hard on his walking stick while we wait for the ceremony to begin.
I’m drawn into a conversation with some women from the local nursing home about the rising cost of hemorrhoid ointment. Apparently, it’s a very real concern in some circles. I manage to keep a straight face throughout but eventually one of those little old heifers—her name is Delores—begins sharing her theories on the role of anal sex in hemorrhoid prevention.
Everybody’s got their limit and I’ve just reached mine. I politely excuse myself from the discussion to use the toilet. When I get back, I manage to grab a seat on the other side of the aisle next to a little woman who eyes me suspiciously and tightens her grip on her purse. At least she’s not discussing her sex life with me so I can live with that.
Soon (admittedly, not soon enough), an organ fills the air and the voices in the room hush. All heads turn eagerly in the direction of the entrance. When my eyes fall on Nova, everything in the room fades away.
I can’t take my eyes off of her.
My blood rushes through my body with the strength of Niagara Falls. Seeing her there, smiling, looking radiant even with a hundred pairs of eyes focused in her direction—it does something to me. It susses out a primal, possessive quality I didn’t even know that I had. As she marches down the aisle with the rest of the bridal party, I realize that there’s no point in fighting it. The way I feel is changing. I can’t deny it anymore.
I want her…
From the altar, she looks straight at me and flashes that breathtaking smile my way. And just for one fraction of a moment, I allow myself to imagine her in a form-fitting white dress with pearls and sparkles and lace, standing there on that altar next to me, our fingers intertwined, our eyes locked. I imagine telling her that she’s the one I want until my dying day. For a moment, it all feels so real.
A body-long shiver rattles my system.
In some ways, this is the most terrifying thought I’ve ever had. In other ways, it’s pretty fantastic. I push the image away when the minister speaks. “Nancy and Edward, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”
The room goes up in ruckus applause. Again, I find my eyes on Nova. Her face splitting from her wide smile as she cheers her grandmother on.
And dammit, I’ve never been more sure—I have to make her mine.
Chapter Sixteen
Nova
I hear a shaky, old voice crackling over the microphone. “She’s a newly-wed, young man. Have you no shame?”
My attention moves from the conversation I’m having with my sister over to the dance floor. My grandmother is shaking her butt on Charlie like she’s forgotten she’s on the waiting list for a hip replacement. Her new groom is standing near the dj booth wearing a menacing expression. A laugh rumbles through the room and I find myself laughing too.
Charlie throws his hands up in defense and tries to take a step back but my grandma only ropes him closer. “Oh, hush, Edward! Just know you’re the lucky man I’m going home with later.” She throws him a wink and turns her attention back to Charlie.
My attention is on him, too.
The guy is handsome in that tux. And he’s charismatic and charming. He’s been making people laugh and helping little old ladies out of their seats. He’s had no trouble fitting in. Because that’s just the way he is. He’s confident, funny, engaging. It’s so easy to like him.
“Jeez,” my sister breathes out. “I’m not the only one who seems to think that you’ve got yourself one hot date.”
“Who, Charlie?” I say, throwing a nonchalant glance his way. The seven man band plays a jazzy version of Drake's Hotline Bling and I clench my hands behind my back to keep from shaking my ass because I love me some Drake.
Nadia laughs. “Yes, Charlie.” She leans an elbow on the bar and takes a sip of her dirty martini. “Have you honestly never thought of hooking up with him? In all these years?”
I try to downplay the extent of the fantasizing I’ve done about my friend over the course of our friendship. “I’ve thought about it, I guess. But he’s Charlie. C’mon!” I sip on my cocktail.
“What do you mean, ‘he’s Charlie’?”
“Ugh! You know how he is. He fucks anything in a skirt. I don’t want to be just another name in his little black book.”
Nadia clucks her tongue. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve been watching the two of you all night. Have you seen the way he looks at you?”
I spin around on my barstool. “What way?”
“I can’t quite explain it.”
“You mean, like he wants to fuck me? Because for Charlie, that’s really nothing special.”
She shakes her head causing her chandelier earrings to bounce against her cheeks. “It’s more than that. He cares about you.”
“Well, I know that. He’s looked out for me ever since high school. It’s sort of a pity thing.”
She pushes an exasperated sigh. “Okay, well you clearly don’t want to see it so I won’t keep pressing the issue. But I’ll tell ya, sis—you have a whole lot of orgasms waiting for you the minute you decide to open up your eyes and see what’s right in front of you.”
I tip my chin at the martini glass in her hand. “It might be time to cut you off because you’re starting to sound a lot like mom.”
Her eyes roll. “Say what you like. I know I’m right.” Her eyes move to the seating area surrounding the dance floor. “And have you seen her, by the way? She’s actually behaving herself tonight.”
I look over at where my parents are sitting at a table by themselves, having a sedate, grown-up conversation instead of fighting like animals. It’s an improvement over anything I’ve seen out of them over the past 15 years.
“I definitely wasn’t expecting that. I think it helps that dad didn’t show up here tonight with a new 22-year-old girlfriend.”
“I know, right?” Nadia laughs and we clink our glasses together.
The bartender speaks over our shoulders. “Can I get you ladies a refill?” He’s a handsome guy. Especially when he flashes us a dazzling smile that is
undoubtedly the reason for his overflowing tip jar. Actually, that smile is directed squarely at my sister as his eyes roam over her body. She turns to him with a sparkling gaze and now, the extent of her inebriation is starting to become clear.
“I’d love a refill,” she drawls, batting her eyes at him.
“Coming right up, lovely.” He has a British accent by the way. James Bond working the bar.
She rises from her seat as he turns toward the other end of the counter. “I’ll come with you. I want to see how you make it.”
I reach for her wrist. She’s gonna wake up with a serious hangover tomorrow. She doesn’t need a series of hickeys and a random, naked bartender in her bed to add to her list of regrets. “Hey, you’re sort of drunk. Are you sure you wanna go home with him?”
She narrows her eyes at me like I’m crazy. “Thanks for your concern, mother, but I’m just going to watch the guy sling a few drinks ten feet away. I’m not about to slip behind the bar and give him a blowjob while he’s mixing gin and tonics for these old people.”
“Sorry, sorry,” I say, recoiling and throwing up my hands in surrender.
I settle into my seat, spinning left to right as I begin texting back and forth with Reese, telling her about the beautiful ceremony and sending her a few of the snaps I took when granny and Edward were making their grand entrance into the ballroom.
I look up from my phone just as a yawn comes barreling out of my mouth. I find Charlie dancing his way through the crowd. His eyes are on me and he’s grinning wide, doing a Frank-Sinatra-meets-Usher tap dance/hip hop jive thingy.
He does a fast-paced toe-heel combination that leads into a spin and comes to an abrupt stop just inches in front of me.
He spreads his arms wide for my review. I erupt into applause. “Not bad, huh?”
Still laughing, I pat him on the chest. “Not bad at all. Five stars!”
The Blue Collar Bachelors Box Set: The Complete Blue Collar Bachelors Series Page 30
