Bad Boy's Bridesmaid

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by Sosie Frost


  I had no idea what I expected.

  I cradled her hand, savored its warmth, and I didn’t let her pull it from me.

  Touching her jolted me more than the god-awful coffee she brewed. Her heat sliced through me just as sharp as whatever she used to take her finger nearly off.

  Mandy’s eyes widened, but she pretended her breathing hadn’t shifted when I touched her.

  It had.

  So had mine.

  This intimacy wasn’t something that happened to me. Ever. But I liked it. I liked that she caused it. And I liked that she denied feeling it too, if only because life offered me a new challenge.

  It wasn’t enough to hear her groan my name or sleep with her cuddled against my chest. Mandy kept her distance from me because she knew how dangerous it was to let me close.

  And she had no reason to worry.

  In that simple touch of her hand, I was changed. I hated that she was hurt, and I hated even more that I wasn’t there to help her.

  It wasn’t often that I wanted to be with a woman when we were both clothed, but for this goddess? In this moment?

  I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “No.” She held my gaze. “But I will be. At some point. I hope.”

  We weren’t talking about the cut. I didn’t like her hesitance. A surge of adrenaline raged through me.

  God, this woman.

  What made me so possessive of her? Why did I want to protect her? She had no reason to feel anxious or uncertain if I was there.

  I’d never pretended to be a good man, but that just meant I got shit done that others couldn’t. If she was worried, if the wedding was stressing her, if this latest complication was going to make her sick again, I wasn’t putting up with it.

  The problems with her family could wait until after she had a decent night’s sleep.

  And after I tucked her in.

  Twice.

  I set my jaw. “How can I help?”

  “Why do you want to help me?”

  “Because you need it.”

  “And you’re the one to give it?” She giggled, reaching into the cabinet for the coffee cups. “Thanks, Nate. But you’ll understand if I refuse.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Come on.” She tried to pull attitude with a hand on her hip. It only accentuated the gentle swell of her thigh. “You’re gonna joke about something cute. I’m going to get flustered. Then you’ll get all deep and sexy and say things that make me…receptive. And we’ll just end up where we left off.”

  “And where’s that?” I shrugged. “Bed? What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing, if this was simple.”

  “And it’s not anymore.”

  “I think you know it’s become way complicated.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t want either of us to get hurt,” she said. “I really, really don’t.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  She bit her lip. “I wish I could say the same.”

  “You’re worried about me now?” I grinned. “What happened to all your fears about the future and plans and fairy tales?”

  She let the coffee brew and leaned against the counter. For some reason, she seemed honest, genuine, and sincere.

  And that made her even more secretive.

  “I don’t think you’ll ever realize how much those nights meant to me,” she said. “I know they’re just your normal, run-of- the-mill one-night stands—”

  “They weren’t.” I said it too harshly but didn’t apologize. “You gotta stop assuming I’m only after another night. I told you weeks ago…I don’t chase girls. I don’t do second nights. But with you? I never want the night to fucking end.”

  “Nate—”

  “I wanna wake up with you, take you again, and spend the day with you so you don’t run away and leave my bed empty.”

  “We...really should get the coffee out to them. Lindsey’s upset.”

  I blocked her path with an outstretched arm and edged her into the corner of the counters. She trapped herself willingly, but she didn’t look at me.

  “You don’t believe me?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I believe you.”

  “Then why do you shut down when I say our nights together were special? That I want more. That I’m chasing you because I’m goddamned crazy about you?”

  “Are you?”

  “I can’t get you out of my head. All I think about every minute of every day is the next time I’ll get to see you, hold you. And don’t pretend you aren’t thinking of me either.”

  Her voice softened. “I am. A lot.”

  “You know where I live. You have my number. You say the word, and I’m there.”

  “It’s more than sex, Nate.”

  “Yeah. It’s you.” I leaned close, surprised when she immediately kissed me. “I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I want you. You gotta tell me why.”

  Her eyes timidly met mine, so dark and expressive. They went wide with surprise and…fear?

  “Why what?” she asked.

  “Why the only thing I can think about is kissing these lips. Or taking you under the stars. Or talking with you, no secrets, nothing hidden. I want you to trust me.”

  “It’s not that I don’t trust you.” She rested her hands over my arms, tightening her fingers in my shirt. “I asked you once to give me space until the wedding.”

  “Do you still want space?”

  “No. But I need it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m falling for you, Nate. And the only way I’ll catch myself is if—”

  “You don’t have to catch yourself. I’ll grab you. I’ll keep you safe.” I edged closer to her. “Give me the chance.”

  “I can’t…” Her palms flattened on my chest. She didn’t push me away. “Things are going to get crazy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now that Great Aunt Mildred died, the family has to come in for the funeral.” She shrugged. “We have two hundred and fifty on the wedding guest list, third quarters of them are our family. They’re all from out of town.”

  I didn’t get it, but Mandy had a bad habit of thinking a couple steps ahead of where her feet were hitting. She glanced at me.

  “They’re all coming now. For the funeral this weekend,” she said. “They’re not able to take time off again in three weeks to come back for the wedding. We’ve lost over a hundred people from the guest list already.”

  Shit. Now I understood. No wonder Lindsey was bawling in the other room.

  “I mean, we have Bryce’s family.” She shrugged. “But God, I don’t want to know what happens if we put Mom in a room with Mr. Washington. And I know—you and Dad said not to worry, but…”

  She wanted to edge away. I didn’t let her. Her hands warmed my chest so perfectly. How was this woman so soft and gentle in everything she did?

  Mandy frowned. “I need space. I can’t manage my family and figure this out at the same time.”

  “Why not? Let me help.”

  Her voice wavered. She looked at me, her eyes a beautiful honey sweetness that glistened as she gnawed her kissable lip.

  “We need to talk. Really talk, about a lot of things.”

  I wasn’t going anywhere. “Then let’s talk.”

  “Not here.”

  “Yes, here.” I bumped my forehead against hers. “I’m serious, Mandy. If you think you’re walking out of this kitchen without agreeing to come home with me tonight…”

  “Nate, what I have to say is important. And it’s not something we can just…it’s going to change everything. Especially how you feel about me.”

  If she feared I’d bolt because she said she had feelings for me, she was wrong.

  I never expected I’d find someone who tempted me to stick around, to talk, to get involved. I’d figured every other man who trapped himself was following convention, damned to a life of responsib
ilities and emotional servitude to a woman who’d control his life.

  Jesus, I was wrong.

  Mandy wasn’t a trap. If anything, I bound my own hands and handed her the rope.

  “Nate, when I slept with you that first time…when we were together?” Mandy’s words trembled. “Something happened. And I really wish…no. That’s not it. I’m happy that it did, but I don’t know if you’ll…damn it. This is so hard.”

  Fuck it. We’d talk later.

  In that moment, I realized how I could solve all our problems.

  I grabbed her, tugging her close for a victorious kiss. She melted into me, and the heat of her body pulsed right to my cock.

  But I wasn’t fucking her tonight. We wouldn’t have the time.

  I had an idea, and it would save the fucking day.

  The wedding was in trouble, and Mandy was too preoccupied trying to fix it that she didn’t have time to sort through what she felt for me. That ended now.

  I dragged her to the living room. Lindsey hadn’t stopped crying, Bryce rubbed his temples, and Sandra argued on the phone with another family member cancelling their rsvp.

  They quieted when I faced them.

  “Your family is going to be in town this weekend?” I asked.

  Lindsey sniffled and nodded.

  “And Bryce, your family is local?”

  He nodded. “Yep.”

  “Fine. Have the wedding this weekend.”

  Mandy collapsed against the couch. “What?”

  “We’ll do it this weekend. Everyone will be in the area. It’s supposed to be good weather. You can get married at my dad’s church, and we’ll have the reception outside in the pavilion. Everyone can be there, and we’ll get it done right.”

  I expected Lindsey to freak. So did Mandy. No one was more surprised than her when Lindsey bounded to her feet, leapt before me, and wrapped me in a hug.

  “Nate, you are a genius!”

  Mandy squeaked. “No, he’s not!”

  “We’ll have the wedding this weekend! The dresses are ready. The tuxes are altered. We can order tables and chairs and make more decorations. Christmas lights and candles!” She turned to Mandy. “Remember wedding scenario D? Outdoor Fairy Haven? It’s back on.”

  Mandy collapsed in the easy chair. “Back on?”

  “Call Dad. Tell him you need the rest of the week off.” Lindsey grinned at Bryce. “We’re going to get married now!”

  Problem solved. I arched an eyebrow at Mandy.

  There. It should’ve impressed her. She asked for help. I delivered.

  That didn’t explain why she groaned and bolted to the bathroom. She really didn’t handle stress well, but it wouldn’t matter once the wedding was over.

  I never felt this way about a woman before, and I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. Nothing was going to change my feelings for Mandy.

  Nothing.

  Chapter Seventeen – Mandy

  We had two days until the wedding, and that was being generous.

  Two days to schedule the ceremony and reception around a funeral, but at least we could post the little flags on the cars and convoy to the party in mass.

  After a full day of last-minute details—buying shoes, setting salon appointments, securing decorations, and soliciting the help of anyone with the last name Prescott who wasn’t actively mourning—I couldn’t move anymore.

  Slipping away for an hour to go to a doctor’s appointment was like escaping a POW camp, and the only rest I had during the day was that first instant my feet hit the stirrups.

  I saw the baby for the first time.

  That little spec of static with the wub-dubbing heartbeat made it the best day of my life.

  I still had the picture in my pocket, completely secret. I didn’t even call Rick and tell him my blip of a baby was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  I didn’t want to share it with Rick. I wanted to share the moment with Nate…and I was too afraid to pick up the phone and call.

  Now my feet ached. My head hurt. My stomach couldn’t heave anymore.

  For the first time, pregnancy kicked my butt, and the only thing I wanted was a soft blanket, a bowl of strawberry ice cream, and Nate. I successfully wrapped myself in the blanket, but I was too exhausted to move. The ice cream was a fading fantasy.

  And Nate?

  Oh Lord.

  He would have tasted better than any dessert.

  It was only two more days of the secret, and then I could tell him everything…including the other words I might say. Something as scary as the pregnancy beat my heart a little faster, but it was just as amazing and exciting and risky.

  I didn’t dare admit it to myself, but every time I saw Nate, every time he touched me or smiled at me or whispered those naughty words to get me into bed, I stumbled that much deeper into my little pit of mistakes.

  First, I had to tell him about the baby.

  Then, if there wasn’t a Nate shaped hole smacked through my wall and a father-to-be sprinting to the west coast, I’d reveal the real truth—why I was so afraid.

  I could handle the pregnancy myself.

  But I couldn’t lose him.

  My phone vibrated. I groaned, tempted to throw the damn thing against the wall. But I recognized the caterer’s number. I had to take the call.

  “Hey Mandy, it’s Jeff.” The caterer talked quick. “Got some good news. We can do your order for Saturday.”

  Thank God. And it only took a budget twice what we anticipated.

  “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” I said. “And you can bring extra tables and chairs?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll take care of the set up too if you get us into the venue ahead of time.”

  “Is it wrong to say I love you?”

  “My wife probably wouldn’t like it—”

  “Well, she’s a damned lucky lady.” I rubbed my eyes. “Okay, so that’s dinner for two fifty, the tables, the chairs, the cutlery, the paper products.”

  “That’s right. Two hundred and fifty vegetarian dinners—a wild mushroom polenta with a porcini sauce or grilled vegetables with green goddess dressing and a Greek salad.”

  I sucked in a breath. Oh, just when I thought I was getting ahead, life had to kick me into the dirt.

  “Vegetarian dinners?” I hated to ask the question. “Do you have…non-vegetarian options?”

  “Well…no. The bride requested vegetarian selections.”

  “For herself,” I said. “Lindsey’s the vegetarian. Everyone else is a straight-up carnivore.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Well, we can’t change our options now. Unfortunately, there’s too little time to buy and prep the ingredients for a new menu…” He cleared his throat. “If you cancel…we’d have to keep the deposit.”

  Damn. What was worse? No food at the wedding…or no meat? Without meat, my family would assume there was no food. But we had to serve something.

  “No,” I said. “We’ll take it. Same plan. We’ll think of something.”

  I sorted out the details and hung up. That added a fifteenth item to my to-do list, and probably meant I had no time to sleep tonight. I rolled off the couch, got sick, and rushed to the bathroom.

  I didn’t make it to the toilet, but the bathtub worked. I hardly had the energy to sit up, but I did have the motivation to cry. The first blubbering tears stole my breath. Frustration smacked me over the head.

  This wasn’t fair.

  I had no idea how to do this on my own anymore—and it wasn’t just the wedding scaring the bejesus out of me. I hauled myself to my feet and brushed my teeth. It helped, but only a little.

  The stress was too much.

  Even if I didn’t tell him about the baby, Nate had said he wanted to help. He promised he’d be there for me.

  He said he wanted me.

  So maybe he’d help me now?

  Why was I so terrified to dial his number? My lip trembled before he a
nswered. I sniffled as the call connected, and as soon as I heard his voice, I whimpered.

  Nate laughed.

  “That’s a great Lindsey impression,” he said. “Sounds real.”

  I had a bad habit when I cried—I forgot to breathe, some sort of subconscious attempt to not actually make a sound. It never worked. Inevitably I’d huffed some choked gasp that sounded like a cross between a gasp and a sick, orgasmic ostrich.

  It wasn’t sexy, and it wasn’t quiet.

  Nate stopped laughing. “Oh, damn. You’re really upset. What’s wrong? Bryce didn’t get cold feet again did he?”

  Warning bells clanged in my head. “What?”

  “Shit. Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

  Great. I reminded myself to add note sixteen to the to-do list—chase down the groom. He used to be a linebacker. That wouldn’t be easy.

  I choked up again.

  “Mandy, what’s wrong?”

  Everything.

  Where to start? I couldn’t breathe, and the damn tears frustrated me more. I put the phone down to grunt out the breath lost in my chest. It did nothing. I coughed it out, more humiliated that I called Nate and could only cry.

  The words came, but not in the right order.

  “It’s all mushrooms!”

  Tears rolled over my cheeks. Something told me the baby wouldn’t like mushrooms. The wedding would be ruined, my family destroyed, the baby would hate everything I tried to feed it, and I’d be the world’s worst Maid of Honor and mother because I didn’t check on the meat.

  “What’s all mushrooms?” Nate talked slowly. “You gotta give me a little bit more.”

  “Dinner. The wedding. All vegetarian. We all have to eat mushrooms.”

  “Oh…I don’t like mushrooms.”

  He sliced the final cut straight through my heart. I collapsed onto the floor.

  “Hey, fine. I’ll eat mushrooms. Before, during, or after the wedding. As many as you want. I promise. Just tell me what the hell is happening.”

  “The caterers are making vegetarian-only meals.”

  “Why?”

  “Lindsey scared them! She ordered her dinner and said she’d rather skin them alive for getting the dinner wrong than hurt one chicken.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “I don’t know how I’m supposed to get my nails done and put up the decorations and help the caterers and organize the string quartet and hire the other DJ…” The tears came back. “I haven’t even learned how to nae nae.”

 

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