Bad Bride Good Cowboys

by Kandi Silvers

  He shook off the thoughts and the memory of how incredibly stunning she’d looked and how much she’d turned him on. Mickey lifted his hands to his face and tired rubbing the images out of his mind and the jealousy poking at his heart.

  Jealousy? No he couldn’t be. Things with Brady were good—most of the time great. He didn’t have complaints, yet…

  Mickey lowered his hands and again shot a scowling glance at the clock on the wall. So maybe he was jealous a bit. Felicia was attractive, smart and funny. She deserved more than Paul.

  “Are you going to wear a path in the floor doing the caged animal routine, or are you going to resign yourself to the fact that she’s a grown woman, and probably making bad choices as we speak?”

  He shifted his attention to Brady who wore nothing but his boxer briefs and leaned against the wall where the hall and the living room connected. “She’s not home yet.”

  Brady nodded and stepped deeper into the room. Though the expression on his face was unreadable, the walk and stance of his defined legs and his strong shoulder muscles indicated he was just as worried. “I know.” The simple reply fell between them in a weighted sigh.

  “Collin made us promise—”

  Brady flinched. “I know what we promised. Make sure this wedding goes flawlessly and she gets whatever she wants.” He glanced away then met Mickey’s gaze. “What if her wants aren’t a wedding or Paul?” Indescribable emotion filled his blue eyes and even under the dim light cast by the table lamp, it wasn’t hard to miss. Something more than he was saying was bothering Brady.

  “Well, her not being home by now indicates she probably won’t be.” The words sounded bitter. By rights they should, bitterness had taken over.

  “I know what she said before she walked out the door, but I don’t think she’ll fall into bed with a one night stand.” The undercurrent in his voice revealed he believed the words.” He heaved another weighted sigh. “It’s not her style.”

  Really? Mickey didn’t want the other man upset but he wasn’t so sure if he carried the same confidence as his friend. “She’s always been a good girl.”

  “And I’m guessing she is about tired of that routine.” He shook his head and paced the floor, taking over where Mickey had left off. “I’m telling you, she has that glint in her eye, the same one she had the summer she came back from her first year at college.”

  Mickey wasn’t blind—just in denial. However, he knew the summer Brady was referring to. He wouldn’t ever forget it. The memories had burned themselves into his mind and most definitely his heart. “What are you saying?”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face and flexed his jaw before shaking his head. “I saw it in her eyes at the bridal shop and then later at the table at lunch. She doesn’t want Paul. She doesn’t want the wedding and I think—no, I know Clarissa wants this wedding more than Felicia does.”

  Brady’s words filtered into his brain and he digested the statements. “Then what the hell does Felicia want?”

  The conversation Brady had overheard earlier echoed in his mind. No. There was no way. Felicia surely was just being smart mouthed. Or was she?

  “I don’t know what she wants, but I’m wondering if—”

  Mickey’s cell phone rang and he glanced at the heavy wood coffee table. Felicia’s picture reflected up from the screen and he swiped the device and hit the answer button. “Felicia?”

  Brady cast him a worried look. By the set and flex of his jaw, he knew the other man was equally as concerned.

  “Mickey, omigod, I am so glad you’re awake.” Her words were a bit slurred but her tone revealed relief. “I was freaking out.”

  His heart started to race. “Are you okay?”

  “Welllllll…kinda.”

  His heart slammed to a stop. “What’s wrong?”

  Her familiar giggle tickled his ear and heat raced over his skin. “The car got way drunk.”

  What the…? “Hang on I’m putting you on speaker, I’m with Brady.” He exchanged a glance with Brady who wore a puzzled expression then hit the button. “Doll, go ahead.”

  “Hi Brady!” She squealed into the phone. “I’m sorry to call and bug you guys but the car got drunk—too many Jell-O shots—the raspberry ones were really good. I liked the watermelon ones best though.”

  “Doll, where are you?” Even with the dim lighting the amusement dancing in Brady’s sky blue eyes was apparent.

  “At the bar. The cute bartender, who is cute, but not nearly as hot as either of you, told me I should call for a ride.”

  “Oh god she’s more than a little drunk,” Brady whispered then grinned.

  Being at the bar still meant she wasn’t with some guy. A drunk Felicia—that wasn’t as much of a relief—but what had gotten him in trouble the first time. “Okay, doll stay put, Brady and I will come and get you and the car.”

  “Thank youuuuu soooooooo muuuuuch.” She sighed with relief then giggled. “Oh, oh oh….”

  Brady covered his mouth with his hand to suppress the laugh and Mickey sunk his teeth into his tongue hoping to God she hadn’t lost the keys or anything else. “Yes? Is there something else?”

  “Yeah, could one of you hotties bring me a coat? I’m a bit chilly.”

  Hotties? What the hell? Who was this woman and what had she done with Felicia? His rollercoaster emotions crashed to a halt. “Well, you wouldn’t be chilly if your outfit covered your body.”

  “Amen,” Brady breathed and again met Mickey’s gaze.

  “Mickey, I hate when your right, but I looked soooooogood.”

  More like sex in stilettos.

  “Fabulous” he replied and wondered what the hell he and Brady were getting into. “Keep your barely covered ass parked, we’ll be there in ten minutes or so.”

  “Ok-dokey and thank you…you guys are the bestest.”

  The call ended and Mickey exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You might want to get dressed.”

  Brady blinked at him with an unreadable expression. “She’s not the same girl.”

  He’d already figured that one out by himself. “We’ve dealt with her drunk before—true, but not in the last four or five years.”

  The other man shook his head. “Three and a half years ago in Mazatlán, remember she’d just broken up with the computer geek.”

  “Right.” Mickey remembered that too, it had been a fun trip, despite the sudden bursts of torrential rain. “Let’s go get her and get her ass to bed.”

  He inwardly groaned. And as tempting as it is, not ours.

  Felicia’s night had not gone as planned. She knew she should not have let all those really cute guys buy her drinks, because somewhere during the night, the plan to get laid switched to thoughts of Brady and Mickey. The two men were most definitely to blame for the current mess she was in—and not the little bit drunk one, but the whole engagement to the completely wrong man thing.

  Brady pulled her car into the dirt drive in front of the house. The lights from Mickey’s pick up stopped illuminating the interior of the vehicle as he brought the truck up next to where Brady had parked.

  “Are you going to be okay getting into the house?”

  She turned to the sexy man sitting in the driver’s seat and blew a wayward ringlet away from her eye. “Yep. Just ducky.”

  An amused smile curled across his firm mouth and she wondered if it would be a bad move just to lean in and kiss him. So when she ended up old and bitter like her mother she could say, “yeah, but I kissed Brady and damn it was good!” The kiss would be good. How could someone like him, built for sex with defined chest and ab muscles and strong legs, kiss badly?

  True he was technically taken, but Mickey was her friend too and well, friends shared. It’s not like she was borrowing a designer blouse to wear for pizza. Not that Mickey owned a blouse, at least she hoped not. He’d look terrible in drag. Besides sneaking one little kiss wasn’t like she was home wrecking, she was just scratching something of
f her bucket list. Not that she planned on dying anytime soon—well maybe if she didn’t take the strappy high heels off.

  Brady’s brows furrowed with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “No my feet hurt. Cute shoes do not mean comfort.”

  His grin broadened. “Don’t move; I’ll help you out.”

  She blinked at him. “But I have to move to get the shoes off.” Shifting in her seat she tried to reach her shoes but was trapped.

  A warm chuckle filled the interior of the car. “Might go a bit easier there, doll, if you undid your seatbelt.” As if on cue the familiar click filled the air and freedom was hers. Right away she leaned forward and noticed her balance was a bit off. Oh no, the little Jell-O thingies were catching up with her. Not good. Felicia glanced over the dashboard toward the front steps like a dog eyeballing something yummy on the counter. She could make the fifty feet and four steps providing her knees hadn’t got lost at the bar somewhere. Her gaze dropped to her legs. Yep, her knees were still there.

  The car door opened. “Okay, take your time.”

  Time wasn’t something she had. If she took too much time those last little blue alcohol yummies would be hitting her blood stream and she could forget walking and especially the stairs all together. “I’m good,” she assured with a wave of her hand. Mickey’s cologne and pure male scent tickled her senses and filled her lungs.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She glanced at the worried cowboy who looked damn fine in those faded jeans and denim shirt. “I smell Mickey.”

  He nodded and again smiled. “It’s because you’re wearing his jacket.” He shook his head and outstretched an arm. “Give me your hand.”

  “Okay-dokey, gotta grab my shoes first.” She scooped up the strappy shoes with the fingers of one hand then placed her free one in his open palm. His fingers curled around hers and an electric heat shot up through her wrist and arm, heating her skin. With a bit of maneuvering and a little bit of a tug from Brady she exited the car and again her balance wavered. “Uh-oh!”

  Strong arms went around her waist and her breasts hit his solid chest. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders and steadied herself. Felicia glanced up at the cowboy and again blew a ringlet out of her face. She seriously needed to start wearing headbands when trying to look at hot men. “Thanks.”

  For some strange reason Brady was no longer smiling, but staring at her intently. Their faces were only inches apart. She may be drunk and somewhat delusional—maybe, but if she was going to kiss him, now would be the time.

  “Are you two okay over there?”

  Or not. The moment was gone. Gone forever, like the dinosaurs. Both she and Brady turned to Mickey. “She is a little wobbly.”

  She turned back to Brady. “A bit, but the phone in your pocket is poking me.”

  The weirdest expression crossed his handsome face.

  She eased back a bit putting a bit of distance between them and smiled. “But you smell really good. You always smell good.”

  Brady’s arms were still around her, and possibly a good thing considering she needed to get her bearings and balance would be good too. “Felicia, I—”

  “It’s never dull with you, doll.” Mickey called as he walked up, grinning like an idiot—which he wasn’t and bounced his gaze between them. He finally rested his attention Brady. “Can she walk?”

  “Probably not gracefully.”

  “I’m graceful, just not at this exact moment—or maybe the next ten moments,” she clarified. “I can walk though, I did all night.”

  Brady pursed his lips and shook his head. “We’ve known you over half your life and have heard that line more than once only to have it end with disastrous results.”

  What? “Like when?”

  “Mazatlán,” both men responded together.

  “Oh yeah, that night at the beach after all those long Island iced teas. Still don’t get why they called them that when we were in Mexico.”

  Mickey chuckled and shook his head. He steadied her from Brady then swung an arm behind her knees scooping her up. “Come on, doll, let’s get you in the house and into bed.”

  “Yours?”

  Mickey’s strong arm behind her legs faltered and Brady made the strangest whistle sound. “Um, no, your bed. In your room” Mickey informed her with the oddest tone of voice as he adjusted her in his arms and tightened his hold.

  “Careful of my strappy heels,” she warned and held them up. “They were reeeeeally expensive.”

  He darted a glance at the shoes dangling from her fingers then rested an amused gaze on her. “I know. We bought them for you—because they called your name.”

  “Ah yes,” Brady chimed in. “Nine hundred and fifty dollar talking shoes.”

  Felicia giggled as Mickey started carrying her to the house. “That’s right, because you guys are rich and I’m spoiled.”

  Brady laughed. “Says the woman that got her twenty-fifth birthday present from us drunk.”

  Yeah, her really nice luxury convertible had been from them. Come to think of it, whatever she wanted, she got. Except the men themselves. “You guys are sooooooooo good to me.”

  “We know,” Mickey sighed as he stepped up the stairs.

  Brady walked ahead and unlocked the front door and opened it.

  “But it’s both your faults the car got drunk.” There, she finally told them the truth. Odd, it wasn’t as liberating as she’d hoped it would be.

  “God, I would love to hear your logic behind that one.” Brady shut the door and she glanced over Mickey’s shoulder at him. More of the sexy cowboy’s scent invaded her senses.

  “Because you and Mickey denied me.”

  Mickey snorted. “We never have. You want and we buy.”

  She turned and blinked at him so damn cute—and totally clueless. “Yeah but what I really want has nothing—nothing whatsoever—to do with money.” She waved the arm with the hand holding the high heels for emphasize.

  For the second time that night Mickey’s arm wavered, but this time he set her down as Brady removed the shoes from her fingers.

  She cast Mickey a scowl. “I know I’m not that heavy, so you need to work out more. Not that your body could get any better than it is now.” She grinned then giggled as she curled her hand around his strong bicep. “Very nice. Great shoulders too.”

  His eyes widened and well…the hotty looked stunned. Oh well, he did have great arms and great body and…

  Felicia staggered slightly and glanced up at the stairs. Nope, she wasn’t ready to tackle those; besides she was on a roll and by God she was going to say what she needed too now or forever hold her piece. Or was that just for weddings? “It’s not that I don’t like the pretty expensive things, but you got me into this mess by having me get engaged to Paul—which is no more.”

  Mickey shook his head. “We’ll find the ring.”

  “Good! Send it to him by mail cause I called him at midnight said fuck you, it’s over, have a nice life, cause by that time my idea about getting laid was gone—like the wind—and I was having a pity party how you and Brady were bad for this whole mess.”

  Brady dropped her shoes off to the side then stepped over and steadied her. “You were the one who said yes when Paul asked you to marry him.”

  Sadness touched her heart. “Because neither of you asked me.”

  “Christ!” Was the only word that left Mickey’s mouth in a sort-of whisper and he turned away to look in the kitchen. Why? She had no clue; she doubted the room had changed since she left earlier.

  “Then again, I am to blame.” It was now or never to be honest. She stared at Mickey and her heart started to hurt. “I should have screwed more guys before you, because in the end, it just completely turned you off women and it’s my fault you’re gay.”

  A whistle sound left Brady followed by the resounding echo of knuckles cracking. She turned to the other cowboy. His expression revealed he was angry, but she couldn’t figure out why. “Right,
as if you didn’t know Mr. Clueless himself. You’re no better and even tonight when I was in your arms outside you could have kissed me, but the moment has passed just like any chance I ever had with you. Gone like the dinosaurs.” She thought about it a minute and got a bit teary. “Why did the babies have to die? The big dinosaurs were so ugly but the little bitty…”

  Brady stepped forward and studied her, still not looking very happy. Mickey, for once in the cowboy’s life, was quiet. Good thing to the mood wrecker. “What are you talking about?” The look of confusion on Brady’s handsome face wasn’t hard to miss—unlike her knees.

  “I think my knees turned to Jell-O shooters.” Her world got spinny and her head became fluffy.

  “Oh hell!” was the last thing she heard Brady say as his strong arms wrapped around her body.

  I‘m pathetic. I still love them both.

  And she’s out! On the bright side, that means she can’t talk anymore.

  Brady shifted the limp doll in his arms then scooped her up as Mickey walked down the hall toward the living room. He carried her up stairs to her room and gently laid her on the bed. After a bit of struggle, he got her under a quilt and stared down at the woman who had just turned his world completely upside down.

  Pain pierced his heart. “What have you done, doll?”

  With her ringlets splayed across the snow-white pillowcase, never had she more resembled the nickname he and Mickey had given her the first summer she came into their lives. With a heavy sigh he leaned in and gently placed a light kiss on her mouth. No matter what chaos she’d just caused Mickey and him, she held his heart. If he was to be honest with himself, which he avoided when it came to Felicia, she probably held just as much as the man he shared his life with. The same man who was waiting downstairs, no doubt expecting all hell to break loose.

  Brady hurt to the core and had no idea what the exact cause was. As he exited Felicia’s room and walked back downstairs, his body felt like it had been run over by a tractor. He didn’t even know what to say or where to begin.