Bad Boy Done Wrong

by Kylie Gilmore

  “Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m sure the anticipation is worse than the actual event. Right?”

  “Usually.”

  That didn’t make her feel any better. Not much could, it seemed.

  “Tell me about your family,” he said.

  “My dad, Mark, says it was love at first sight when he met my mom, Judy.” She launched into the favorite family story of how they met when her mom was her dad’s nurse for a physical. “She made my heart skip a beat!” Carrie said in a deep impersonation of her dad’s jovial voice.

  Zach chuckled.

  She kept going, sharing the way her dad had pursued her mom with bouquets of flowers, each one accompanied by a terribly rhyming poem about her beauty. Then she told him about her big brother, Rich, now a pilot like her dad was before he retired. She’d become a nurse just like her mom. She figured it all sounded kind of boring, but just talking about her family calmed her nerves.

  Before she knew it, they were pulling into the parking lot. She could see the wedding pavilion in the distance with a small brick patio where the chairs were set up. On the opposite side stood a white tent for the reception. She stepped out of the truck and admired the Long Island Sound beyond the pavilion with its softly lapping waves. It was always a bit cooler by the Sound and felt wonderful. The ceremony would be in an hour, close to sunset. They’d arrived early so she could help with any last minute setup stuff her parents might need.

  They ran into her brother, Rich, first, who gave her a brief hug. He was tall, but not as tall as Zach, his dirty blond hair in a crew cut, clean-shaven, and had sharp blue eyes. She quickly introduced him to Zach.

  “Nice to meet you,” Rich said, grabbing Zach’s hand in a firm manly handshake and holding his gaze directly.

  “You too,” Zach said, his expression just as serious as her brother’s.

  She could almost feel the testosterone spike as they sized each other up. Zach must’ve passed because her brother immediately put Zach to work, helping him haul additional chairs in place under the tent.

  Carrie met up with her nieces and sister-in-law and helped them add white streamers and bows to the chairs by the wedding pavilion as well as arrange some flowers for a beautiful backdrop. When she finished, she found Zach waiting for her at the end of the aisle. She had to fight the impulse to run down the aisle and leap into his arms. It was what she did after every separation. That moment of connection was like bottled sunshine bursting through her in radiant joy. If only all of their moments could be that simple.

  He held his arms out to her like he knew what she wanted to do. She laughed and shook her head, instead walking sedately over to him. He hooked her around the waist and pulled her close.

  She smiled up at him. “How’d it go with my brother?”

  He inclined his head, a small smile playing over his lips. “He invited me to have cigars after the ceremony, but I don’t smoke.”

  “He shouldn’t be either! Geez, he’s still smoking cigars! Gross. As a nurse, I’m offended.”

  Zach stroked her back. “The point is more symbolic. The gesture invites familiarity and acceptance.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Are you a shrink?”

  “No.”

  “Who’s not a shrink?” a familiar masculine voice said from behind her. Carrie turned and gave her dad a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was seventy-two, but with the energy of a much younger man. Her mom was seventy with matching vitality.

  “How’re you, sweetheart?” her dad asked, glancing at Zach curiously, who stood next to her, looking solid and respectable.

  “I’m good, Dad. Love the tux.” She adjusted the lapels of his white tux. His white hair matched, neatly parted to the side. “You’re a handsome groom.”

  “Thank you,” her dad said. “And who’s this young man?”

  Zach offered his hand. “Zach Harrison, nice to meet you, Mr. Young.”

  “You too. Call me Mark.” Her dad shook his hand and turned to Carrie. “You been dating long? Your mom hasn’t mentioned you were seeing anyone.” His brows drew together and she knew he was a little hurt to be left out of her life.

  “No, not long,” she assured him. “Just a couple weeks.”

  Her dad turned to Zach. “Where’re your people from?”

  “Dad!”

  “What?” her dad exclaimed. “I’m just making conversation.”

  Zach straightened to his full height, shoulders back, chin up. He reminded her of a soldier, which was so at odds with his usual easy grace, she felt herself getting worked up in sympathy for him having to undergo the protective-father third degree.

  “I grew up in Connecticut,” Zach said and offered nothing more.

  “Mmm,” her dad said, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. “And where did you go to school?”

  Carrie clenched her teeth. Really, all of this awkward talk was completely unnecessary.

  “Well, sir,” Zach started with a quick glance to her.

  “You don’t have to answer all his questions,” Carrie put in. “Dad, please.”

  “Mark?” her mom called.

  Her dad jumped and then clapped once. “Oh! I’d better go check on my lovely bride.” He took off to the side of the brick patio behind a trellis covered in greenery and white flowers. It was where the bridal party would wait for the big moment.

  “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony?” Zach asked.

  “Maybe I should go see if I can help.” She hurried over there. “You guys need any—ah!” She slapped a hand over her eyes. Her parents were making out.

  “Carrie! So good to see you, honey!” her mom exclaimed.

  Carrie dropped her hand. Her mom looked stunning, her white blond hair arranged in soft waves to her shoulders, her skin glowing. She wore a simple empire-waist white wedding gown with a long veil perched on her head, trailing behind her. “Hi, Mom, sorry to intrude.”

  Her mom gave her a big hug. “No worries. I can’t wait to meet Zach.”

  Carrie glanced at her dad, who was grinning mischievously. “Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride beforehand?”

  Her dad wrapped his arm around her mom’s waist. “We had to recreate the frantic kissing moment before our first wedding. Your mom couldn’t keep her hot little hands off me!”

  “Oh, Mark!” Her mom giggled. “I’m sure that was more you than me.”

  Her dad leered at her mom and then turned to Carrie. “I know it’s a little superstitious, but hey! It’s worked for fifty years, don’t want to break the tradition. Can you give us a minute?” He pulled her mom in close.

  Carrie rushed out of there.

  She found Zach standing on the beach just steps from the white tent, looking out to the water. “They were making out behind the trellis,” she informed him.

  His brows shot up. “Lucky.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean fifty years of marriage and they can’t keep their hands off each other is damn lucky.”

  She’d never thought about it that way. Her parents were just always there. She’d always thought it normal, boring even. They fought infrequently. They did everything together, especially now that they were both retired. Sometimes they just seemed like one person. She’d once thought the same thing would happen for her with Edward, a long and happy life together. A normal life. House in the suburbs, vacations on the lake, the kids she’d always wanted. That dream had been shattered with Edward’s betrayal.

  Now she wasn’t sure if it’d ever happen for her. And she didn’t want that anymore, anyway. The kids part she did want, she loved kids. It was just that she couldn’t imagine how marriage could ever give the thrill and excitement of a fling. The kind of heat she shared with Zach must burn out eventually. Right? Wait, was that what her parents had behind closed doors? Eww. Don’t think about it.

  She crossed her arms, hugging herself. She’d never know with Zach. It was better that way. Go out on a high note. Her stomach rolled and she f
orced herself to focus on her parents’ special day. “Let’s go see what else we can do to help.”

  She turned and went back to the pavilion. Zach followed, sticking close to her side.

  More people arrived and Carrie and her brother acted as ushers, guiding them to the bride’s or groom’s side. Zach sat on the end of the back row, watching every person she talked to and she knew exactly why. He was waiting to meet her ex. He wouldn’t leave her alone to face him.

  And then he was there. Dr. Edward Zigler standing with a petite brunette, long glossy hair, big doe-like eyes, in a beautiful peach sundress that clung to a huge baby bump. Carrie’s stomach lurched. Oh, God. She felt nauseous. Edward looked the same, arrogant and proud in a dark blue custom-tailored suit. His blond hair was short, ice blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, patrician nose, full lips. He was handsome as always yet so cold.

  They were heading straight for her. She sucked in air. The woman had to be eight months pregnant. Carrie and Edward had only broken up a little over a year ago. How did he move on so quickly to marriage and baby? Why didn’t her mom mention the baby? Suddenly a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and she sank gratefully against Zach’s side. Zach pulled her close and kissed her temple, boosting her confidence.

  Edward and the pregnant lady stopped in front of her. “Carrie,” he said brusquely. Like he barely knew her after six long years. They’d lived together for three of them! And she’d fucking known him her entire fucking life!

  “Hello, Edward,” she said through her teeth. “It’s been a long time.”

  Edward smiled smugly. “Yes, a lot’s happened. All for the good. This is my fiancée, Tara.”

  “Hi,” Tara said in the softest, gentlest voice Carrie had ever heard. This was what Edward wanted, a young gentle girl he could mold to fit his life. She wondered if he was still doing the kinky sex app to keep his future wife pure. Her stomach rolled. Not her problem anymore.

  “Hi.” She stared at the woman’s pregnant belly, still in shock. That could’ve been her. Married with a kid on the way. Instead she was merrily fucking her way through a sex list. Her life was about sex. His was about real stuff—love and home and family. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But it did hurt. Terribly. Her throat was tight, her eyes stinging, her gut churning.

  “I’m Zach.”

  She belatedly turned to find Zach staring Edward down. Zach didn’t offer his hand.

  “We’ll go take a seat,” Edward said stiffly.

  “Yes, please sit on the groom’s side,” she said numbly.

  “Let’s go, honey,” Edward said, guiding his young pregnant fiancée to a seat.

  Carrie watched them go, trembling slightly from the encounter. Edward had proposed to her with a large diamond ring after they broke up—a too little, too late gesture. It had been the last straw in a long line of controlling manipulative moves on his part.

  So why did she suddenly feel like bawling her eyes out?

  What the hell was she doing with her life? With Zach?

  She finished her job ushering in friends and family in a haze. Then it was time for her to walk down the aisle as her mom’s maid of honor. Zach stayed in the last row and she couldn’t see him very well from where she stood behind the bride. All she could see was the happy look on her dad’s face as he vowed to love her mom forever for a second time.

  The young pregnant woman in peach—Tara, she reminded herself—sat just beyond her dad in Carrie’s direct line of vision. She clenched her jaw and willed herself to be happy for her parents and think of nothing else.

  She could cry later. Alone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zach caught up with Carrie at the reception once she’d finished helping her parents get comfortable and serving them some food and drink. He’d never seen Carrie at work as a nurse, but he imagined she was just like this, helpful and competent no matter how she felt on the inside. He knew seeing her ex with a pregnant fiancée had thrown her. She’d paled and wavered on her feet. He’d been afraid she was about to pass out.

  He sat under the white tent at a round table with Carrie’s brother, sister-in-law, and two nieces. Rich and his wife were in a deep discussion over something to do with their teenage daughter, who wanted to leave early to meet up with her boyfriend. Carrie was standing next to her seat, near him, taking some video of her parents slow dancing on the dance floor, the only couple out there. Very sweet couple. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a couple like that, still crazy about each other after fifty years. He wondered what their secret was, how they made it work for so long and still be so into each other. It was rare. Maybe even worthy of some study. What gave a relationship longevity? He pushed that from his mind, recognizing it was a purely selfish pursuit, trying to figure out how to break from his lone-wolf pattern and find everlasting happiness. They were exceptional. He was not.

  “Carrie! Rich! Come out here too!” her mom called.

  He watched as Carrie had a dance with her brother and then her dad and then she gestured to him. He stood and joined them along with Rich’s wife.

  He slid an arm around Carrie’s back and took her hand, taking the lead.

  Her hand went to his shoulder, her head tipping back to look up at him. “You can dance!”

  He pulled her close, whispering in her ear, “I’m a man of many talents.”

  She pulled back and stared at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my wild man?”

  He chuckled, glad she was in better spirits now. “How’re you doing?”

  “Fine. I’m not jealous. I’m happy for them.” She went up on tiptoe and whispered, “A couple glasses of champagne helped.”

  He knew she couldn’t hold her liquor, so that small amount had probably dulled the sharp edges for her. “Do you wish it had been you, engaged and pregnant?”

  “No!” she fired back with enough heat that he knew some part of her did.

  He didn’t know what to say to make it better, so he just danced. But he knew what to do. Treat her like a queen. He hadn’t shown her the gentleman side of himself, purposely keeping it hidden, but it was a part of him. A big part. His honorary dad, Joe, had taught him in word and deed, as well as a number of hilarious lessons throughout his teen years.

  He smiled to himself, remembering the first time Joe had sat them down in his living room, the four oldest of the gang—Josh, Jake, Zach, and Marcus—at the ripe age of fourteen. (Marcus was only thirteen, but already very into girls.) First they got the Talk—plain facts about sex, consent, and protection that made them squirm. Then Joe announced he was going to teach them how to treat a woman. They’d leaned in, eager to hear some sex secrets.

  “Like your little sister,” was the disappointing answer. “Pretend they’re Mad.”

  “Blech!” “Gross!” “Barf!” erupted from the guys.

  “Hold on,” Joe said, lifting a hand. “Think how you’d want a guy to treat her, huh? Respectfully, carefully, kindly. Like a gentleman.”

  Ethan, still a punk with a big chip on his shoulder, sneered. “I’m not a frigging gentleman.”

  Joe stood, an imposing man, tall and fit like a cop should be. “Alright, outside, you knuckleheads.”

  They all got off the sofa and made their slow swaggering way to the door.

  Then Joe announced, “I’m going to demonstrate lesson one—opening doors. Ethan, you’ll be the girl.”

  Ethan halted, his cheeks flaming red. “Like hell. I’m outta here.”

  Joe snagged Ethan by the back of the collar. “I’ll be the girl.”

  Everyone laughed. Manly Joe playing a girl was hilarious just to think about.

  They got outside to Joe’s car, where he stood by the passenger side. “Now let’s practice. Ethan, you’re up.”

  Ethan was so relieved not to be the girl that he fell in line nicely, opening and shutting the door for “the girl.”

  Joe always seemed to know how to reach each of them.

  They’d all taken a
turn, opening and closing a car door and then the house door, letting Joe go first. Not their last hands-on lesson either. The man was determined the crop of boys under his watch would treat women right. Later, Joe had shared why these lessons were important. His mom had been abused by his dad before she finally left him. Years later, Joe’s stepdad had been a true gentleman and treated Joe’s mom like a queen. Joe had decided that was the right way to live.

  They all understood how important this life lesson was after that. Plus, the fact that Joe was willing to play the part of “girl” so a bunch of teenaged boys—half of which weren’t even his kids—could learn the right way to act, well, it made a huge impression on Zach. Probably on all of the guys.

  And so Carrie would now meet gentleman Zach. As soon as the song ended, he guided her off the dance floor, pulled out her chair for her, and offered to get her a drink. Surprisingly, Carrie didn’t seem to notice the change in his behavior. She must’ve been more upset than she looked.

  After he made sure she had enough to eat and drink (nonalcoholic), he made the rounds with her, both for support and protection from any possible confrontation with her ex. That guy had a real crafty look in his eyes. Like he was always calculating how to turn things to his advantage. Zach was not at all surprised that Edward had found another sweet young woman for a girlfriend. He seemed the kind who wanted a woman to bend to his needs, not share in a true partnership. Just thinking about Carrie with that guy made him furious.

  Carrie put on a good show of smiles and friendliness for everyone despite her pain over seeing her ex. She was a strong woman. They stopped at every table to thank people for sharing in the special occasion. He didn’t know anyone beyond her immediate family. Didn’t matter. He was here for Carrie.

  Finally they finished thanking everyone. He slid an arm around her shoulders. “Would you like to dance?” It was another slow song. Her parents were out there, along with a few other older couples.

  “I’d love to,” she replied.

  He guided her onto the dance floor, one hand on the small of her back, then arranged them in the traditional waltz position.