by Lulu Pratt
“Oh my God,” Isaiah said, pressing his fingers to his lips. “You didn’t. Did you sleep with him?”
I blushed even harder.
“It’s not like it was a big deal,” I said. “It was in a closet at the club. It wasn’t like it counted.”
“What are you talking about? How can it not count?”
I shrugged. “It all happened so fast.
Isaiah shook his head. “Honey, let me get something straight. Was his dick inside you?”
I turned bright red, this time because I was downright embarrassed at how open Isaiah was being. He had never stood on formality. He was always brutally honest, and those were qualities I liked about him. But sometimes, I wished he wouldn’t put it out there in black and white the way he was doing.
I nodded.
“So, that means you slept with him. It counts.” Isaiah sat back, his tablet and his work updates forgotten.
“Normally, I would high-five you and say you’re a rock star. But it’s Grayson,” Isaiah said. “The man who’s making your wedding planning a living nightmare, the man who isn’t happy for his best friend or yours.”
“You don’t have to rub it in,” I said. “Do you think I don’t know it might have been a mistake?”
Isaiah shook his head. “I think you’re blushing too hard to think of it as a regret.”
He was right. I didn’t regret it. I probably should have, but it was too soon, the aftereffect still hanging around me. I could still remember exactly what he had felt like, how he had tasted, the thrill that had come with doing something so wrong just because it had felt so right.
“It was just a quickie,” I said. “We were both drunk and attracted to each other, and it happened. It’s not going to happen again.”
Isaiah reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“If it’s what you want, go for it,” he said. “I’m shocked, but it’s your life.”
I frowned. “That was a sudden change of heart.”
Isaiah shrugged. “You’re a grown woman. Like I said, I’m shocked, but I can’t tell you what to do, and it might have been a little much to react that way.”
I nodded. It might have been, but I also knew he was right.
“Besides, you’re getting more than I am right now,” Isaiah added, and his joke broke the tension. I laughed, shaking my head.
“You’re too much,” I said
“That’s what every man needs to hear.”
I laughed again.
“On a serious note,” Isaiah said. “Be careful of him. If he’s a good fuck, go for it. But don’t trust the guy.”
I tried not to blush about the part where he had said Grayson was “a good fuck” but focused on the rest of his words instead.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I think he’s trying to ruin the wedding. You don’t want to get involved with that, not if you’re trying to make it amazing. Opposites don’t always attract.”
I nodded. I had been thinking the same thing.
“I have to go,” I said, glancing at the clock, relieved that a previous appointment would bail me out. “I’m meeting Abigail for dress shopping.”
“Alone?”
I laughed. “I’m not going to screw him in the changing rooms if that’s what you’re asking.”
Isaiah shrugged, a smile creeping onto his face. “You never know.”
I left Isaiah in the office and headed out to a bridal boutique where Abigail was already waiting for me. It was just the two of us, and I was relieved. It was the first time I got to see her one on one without anyone else interfering.
“Let’s get this party started,” I said.
Dress shopping wasn’t often a part of my job. I could remind the brides they needed to do it, but I oversaw the event itself, not the apparel. This was the best part of it, though. This was where the bride chose the outfit she would wear when she committed herself to someone for the rest of her life.
It took half a day to work through the shop, and Abigail found the perfect dress. It was formfitting with lace covering satin, and it had a row of tiny pearl buttons all the way down her back.
“This is it,” Abigail said, looking at herself in the full-length mirror.
I nodded, a lump rising in my throat. “I think so too.” It was amazing seeing my best friend in her wedding dress, taking that next step. I thought it was all very sudden, but what I had seen of Carter so far showed me a man who was inherently good, and I had never seen my friend so happy before. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to have the day of her dreams and the fairytale wedding she had always dreamed of. If it had taken her no time at all to find her Mr. Right, who was I to say it was wrong?
After Abigail paid for the dress, we worked through the bridesmaids’ dresses and found the most beautiful pink bridesmaids’ dresses that went with the theme.
“What do you think?” Abigail asked when she put the dresses next to the wedding dress to see a fuller picture.
“I think it’s perfect,” I said. And I was being truthful. This was the best wedding I had planned, not only because everything was going so well but because it was for my best friend. What was better than that?
Chapter 8
GRAYSON
ON WEDNESDAY evening, John and his wife, Deborah, hosted a dinner for the engaged couple. I was invited because I was a guest in the house, and they couldn’t exactly kick me out, although I wondered if they wanted to. John and Deborah wanted to get to know Abigail, their soon-to-be daughter-in-law.
I didn’t feel like a sit-down dinner with stiff conversation and pointless small talk, but until the day of the wedding, I was stuck here in Austin, so I had to take what was coming my way.
John and Deborah had the perfect entertainment house. It was one of the good things that had come from their move to Austin. The house was laid out in a horseshoe shape with all the entertainment areas on one side and the living quarters on the other. It was a two-story house with great views, and since the moment John and Deborah had arrived, it seemed they had made the most of it. They always had people over. I was a guest in their house until the wedding, and it still felt like a second home to me, even though it was in a new place. I knew as soon as I left to go back home after the wedding, it would be like losing my family. With John and Deborah here and Carter staying with Abigail in Austin, I was going home empty-handed. So I tried to soak up every last moment we had together. I was saying goodbye all over again.
Which was only one more reason to hate this wedding. And it was a reason for me to dread the night with Abigail and see her as a new addition to the family. I couldn’t find it in me to be happy for the couple.
When Abigail arrived, Callie was with her.
“Why did you invite the wedding planner?” I asked John when I saw her.
“Because she’s Abigail’s best friend, her support system who’s making this magical day happen for Carter. Also, Carter tells me she’s down-to-earth.” Right, a down-to-earth pain in my ass. “Come on, man. Lighten up.”
John was straightforward, and I couldn’t argue with his choice of guests. I wished I had known Callie was going to come. I would have made plans to be somewhere else instead.
I watched as Abigail politely greeted John and Deborah and commented on their beautiful home. She had brought a bottle of wine, the perfect guest. She had met them once before, so she was nervous. I could tell. Callie stayed close by her side, a true friend in need. When she was introduced, she shook hands with both John and Deborah, and she was all smiles. She was the type of woman everyone liked.
I could see why. And I hated it. I didn’t like that even though she was a pain in the ass, she was so damn likable.
Callie barely greeted me, only briefly making eye contact, and when she did so, she wasn’t rude.
John had grilled steaks. Deborah had made her famous balsamic potatoes and a few different sides to choose from. I loved her food. When I thought about home-cooked meals, it was Deborah�
��s food that came to mind, not my own mother’s.
“This is a meal fit for a king, my darling,” John said when he sat down. He rubbed his hands together, happy at the prospect of food. I had to admit, it was a good meal. I looked at Abigail who had taken something of everything except the steak.
“Don’t you eat meat?” I asked her.
Abigail blushed and shook her head. “I’m a vegetarian.”
Great. Not only was the wedding happening way too soon, but she was one of those. I couldn’t stand people who rejected what they were. I glanced over at Callie who had dished herself a beautiful piece of steak. God, I loved a woman who could eat properly. I hated women who were all about having only a salad because they were watching their waistlines, or worse, they were humanitarians. I was trying very hard to like Abigail for Carter’s sake and was failing.
The table was large enough to fit eight guests, and there were only six of us. The two seats at the head of the table were open, and I was seated across from Callie. I looked at her, staring at her for a while, and realized she was trying to avoid eye contact.
Interesting. She had been very eager to do what we had done at the club. She hadn’t exactly avoided me then. Did she regret it? She had run from me. And now that she was trying to avoid me, it only made me want to make it harder for her. I was full of shit, and I knew it, and I did it with pride.
Callie didn’t make eye contact with me once. Which meant that I kept asking her for things like to pass the salt or the potatoes or if she wanted me to fetch her a glass of water from the kitchen. It was cute to see how uncomfortable she became when I asked her. I was amused by it.
After dinner, Callie offered to help clear the table, and we all jumped in, carrying plates and dishes to the kitchen. I stepped in front of Callie three times, and every time, she was forced to look up at me. The third time, I didn’t move, and she had to speak to me.
“Excuse me,” she said
“Oh, sorry,” I said and stepped out of the way. Callie shook her head, and I thought I heard her whisper “asshole” under her breath. It was a hoot. She was so set on avoiding me. I loved it.
And I hated it. Because, goddamn, she was hot. She wore jeans so tight, they looked painted on, showing off her perfect curves, and her flowy top traced her breasts so I could almost feel them in my hands again. Her hair was tied up, and her neck was beautiful and smooth. I wanted to nibble on it.
We sat down with coffee after supper and talked about our plans for the coming week.
“Have you found a caterer yet?” Deborah asked when the conversation turned to the wedding. I sighed, sick of this shit. The wedding was all anyone ever talked about.
“We’re going to try out a couple of places tomorrow,” Abigail said. I groaned, and everyone fell quiet and looked at me. I glanced at Callie who was glaring at me. At least she wasn’t avoiding eye contact now.
“The wedding is in just under a month,” Callie said. “There’s a lot to say about the topic.”
“Don’t mind Grayson. He’s not always aware of what his mouth is doing when his mind is switched off.”
“Gee, thanks, John,” I said. He was talking against me, and even though his little jabs were jokes, this one stung. It was in front of the women, and it made me look like a fool. I kept my mouth shut tight to stop from saying something inappropriate. I was not happy.
After a moment, conversation resumed, but there was tension in the air that hadn’t been there before. I shrugged it off. I wasn’t going to change how I felt about it, no matter how upset the family got. I had accepted the role of best man, and as far as I was concerned, I was the best man. But I wasn’t in the mood to talk about weddings twenty-four-seven, but everyone else seemed to think the topic would never be exhausted. It wasn’t even a wedding I approved of. The only reason I had agreed to be a part of it at all was that I had thought I could stop Carter from making the biggest mistake of his life.
I had never thought I would be saying this. Once upon a time, everything had been perfect. But shit happened, and it seemed to keep happening.
Finally, the women left to have a walk around the garden and I could go back to my room and sulk without John calling me out on it. He was a father figure in every sense, both with advice and expecting me to behave properly. The former I appreciated. The latter frustrated me like I was a teenager and my dad was grounding me. I was stupid to see it that way, but it was how it felt.
I was in my room when Carter knocked on the door and walked in. He sat down in the chair by the desk. I lounged on my bed.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“I should ask you that,” Carter said. “What was wrong with you tonight? You’re really pushing this whole wedding issue.”
I shrugged.
“What’s your problem?” Carter asked again.
“I don’t have one,” I said. “I just don’t want to talk about weddings around every turn, you know? I know that’s what we’re here for, but I want to spend time with you. I know I’m losing you once you get married, but it feels like I’ve already lost you, and we still have four weeks to go.”
Carter shook his head. “You’re not losing me. I’m getting married, not moving overseas.”
“No, but you are moving here. And you’re so caught up in Abigail, which I guess is normal. I get it. But I never get to spend time with you anymore because she’s everywhere, and when I’m with everyone because that’s all I’ll get, the wedding is all we talk about.”
Carter sighed. “I get it,” he said. “But the wedding is very soon. There’s no way around it. And it’s a big deal to Abigail.”
I noticed Carter didn’t say it was a big deal to him, and I wondered if it was because it wasn’t a big deal or if he didn’t want to admit it. What bugged me more than the wedding talk was that Carter was changing himself so much for this woman. That wasn’t right. He’d never had to change himself before.
“Just try to bear with us, okay?” Carter said. “I’ll try to make some time where it’s just us bros, hanging out.”
I nodded. I couldn’t argue with that. Carter was trying, but I had to accept that his priorities were somewhere else now, that he wouldn’t ever be the Carter I’d had until the moment he’d met Abigail.
This was the end of an era. But I didn’t want to mourn it, I wanted to fight it.
“I’m going to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”
I nodded, and Carter left the room. He pulled my door closed, and I was shut in with my own emotions. It was understandable that Carter was upset with my attitude. I had to admit, it stank. But I was upset that Carter didn’t seem to know why the whole wedding and losing Carter to Abigail was bothering me. He was my best friend, and after everything we had been through together, I felt like he should have known exactly what was bothering me.
But Carter acted like I was being strange by acting out, like he didn’t understand it. And in turn, I didn’t understand that. When I had lost my sister, I had thought at least I still had Carter. I was starting to think I might have lost him already, that it had happened a lot longer ago than I had thought.
And that was damn sad.
Chapter 9
CALLIE
WE HEADED OUT on Thursday to find a caterer and secure someone who could make a wedding cake. The cake was often planned months in advance, but there were no months to be had, so it would have to happen as fast as possible.
It was the four of us once again. I had expected Grayson to tag along as he had before, but I had hoped this time would be different. I didn’t know how to react to what we had done, how he would be with me and how I would respond.
I didn’t know how I felt about it all. That was the problem. If I knew how I felt about what we had done, I would know how I wanted to react, but I was torn. A part of me regretted it. I wasn’t the kind of woman who fucked near-strangers in club storage closets. I wasn’t even a one-night-stand person who took men home with me. Nothing I had done with Grayson was on
par with my character.
Another part of me wanted to do it all again. I wanted Grayson to fuck me again so I could lose myself in him.
I pushed away the thought. I couldn’t think of him like that. It had been a mistake. Grayson was hot, but he was an asshole who wanted to stop the wedding. Who did that to their best friend? He wasn’t even making much of an effort to hide his intentions. I couldn’t fall for someone like that because he was charming.
When I saw Grayson, my stomach tightened. He glanced me up and down once before looking away.
“What do you think?” Abigail asked me after we had sampled the food of the first catering company, and they had explained they would charge a ridiculous price to add a cake.
“I think the selection isn’t wide enough for the price they’re asking,” Grayson piped up.
I glared at him. It had been what I had wanted to say, but because he had said it, I was irritated with him. Of course, he would find something wrong with the place. He found something wrong with every single thing we did.
“I do think there are better options,” I reluctantly said. I hated that it sounded like Grayson and I agreed on something. When I glanced at him, he gave me a cocky grin, and I flashed back to the club, to the scent of Grayson in my nostrils as he pressed me against the wall and ground his cock against me.
“Let’s try another one,” I suggested, ripping myself away from the memory with brute force. “If we find nothing we love, we can always come back to this.”
The second caterer wasn’t much of a success either. There were too many choices, and Abigail and Carter both looked overwhelmed. The caterer tried to push them into a commitment.
“I don’t think this is the place for you,” I said once we had gotten away from the man. “He’s going to decide what your selection should be, and you don’t need that. You’re in charge.”
