Ninety-Eight (Contemporary Romance)

by Shannon Mayer

  I had no idea who Missy was, but that didn’t matter. “I understand, you go ahead, the dress fitting can be done easily without you.”

  “Are you sure?” She touched my shoulder, lightly, like she was afraid I’d break. Which was absolutely ridiculous. Celia hardly knew me, didn’t have a clue just how strong I’d had to be growing up.

  “Go on. I’ll be fine.” I waved her out the door and then put my hip against the frame watching her go. Crap. I still wasn’t allowed to drive. Most likely I would be fine, but to be on the safe side … .

  I pulled out my cell and typed a text to Penny. My finger hovered over the send button, thinking. Saturday morning was not a good time for the voracious party girl. I pursed my lips. Victor was gone to Louisville already with his brother.

  I scrolled through my contacts, staring at the one name I knew I shouldn’t want to call.

  Darwin.

  Don’t suppose you’d want to be my chauffer to a dress fitting? I hit send before I thought better of it. Hell, we were friends; there was nothing wrong with him giving me a ride to an appointment. Right?

  Only if you buy me a donut.

  I couldn’t stop the laugh that stole out past my lips. I clapped my hand over my mouth and looked around, like I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.

  Done.

  I texted him my parent’s address and he texted back that it would be about twenty minutes before he got there.

  I paced the whole twenty minutes in front of the large bay window that stared out over the driveway. When the first hint of his blue Chevy glimmered to me from the end of the driveway I bolted out the door.

  He was smiling before he even stopped the truck, and at that distance, I couldn’t see the dimple, but I knew it was there. Waiting.

  Friends. Just friends.

  I slid into the passenger seat. “You are a life saver.”

  “Well, that is why they pay me the big bucks. Three dollars an hour.” He put the truck into gear, his hands easy on the shift stick.

  “Come on.” I snorted at him. “You don’t actually expect me to believe that, do you?”

  “True story. When we aren’t on an actual call out, we get three bucks an hour for waiting. More money for when we’re out on a run, which is where we spend most of our shifts, thank God.”

  “Is that why you want to be a doctor?”

  “The money? No, though it is a nice perk. I just like people, like helping them. Taking them to their wedding dress fittings and such can really change a person’s life for the better.”

  He reached over and gave my shoulder a gentle shove. Playful and platonic. Perfect. So I did my best to ignore the flash of heat, the remembrance of my fantasy in bed with Victor the night before.

  The wedding dress shop was across the city and we had a solid half hour drive ahead of us. I tried to think about Darwin like I would one of my girlfriends and the question popped out of me before I thought better of it.

  “Tell me about you and Fiona. How did you end up married so young?”

  He ran his tongue out over his lips and then sucked his full bottom lip into his mouth. Suddenly dizzy, I put a hand to my head and leaned it back against the headrest.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just a bit dizzy.”

  “Damn, I’m glad you called me; are you still getting dizzy spells?”

  I closed my eyes and focused on slowing my breathing— it had suddenly gone into overdrive, like when I sprinted after Dr. Winston’s pigs each time they broke out of their pen to raid the garden next door.

  “No, this is the first in a while.”

  A plastic bottle bumped into my hand. “Here, take a drink of this,” Darwin said.

  I put the bottle to my lips and took a chug of the water, then held the cool bottle to the side of my face. Maybe I was coming down with something.

  “You want to call off the fitting?”

  I groaned. “No, Celia will kill me.”

  “The dress fitter?”

  “My mom.” I opened my eyes, to see him staring at me with an incredulous expression on his face.

  “You call your mom by her first name?”

  Laughing, I told him how when I was eighteen my mother had informed me that I was no longer to call her mom. She had a name and she wanted me to use it. I had no doubt it had been Frank’s idea, but I kept that thought to myself.

  “My mom would smack me up the back of my head if I ever called her by her first name,” he said.

  I realized as we drove that he’d nicely avoided my question about Fiona, sidestepping it as if I’d never asked. Which was probably for the best anyway.

  We made it to the dress shop on time and I hopped out, leaning back into the truck. “Thank you, Darwin. You can leave me here. I can get the bus home.”

  “Yeah, and have you pass out on the bus and get mugged or worse. I don’t think so.”

  Before I could argue, he slammed his door shut and ushered me into the store.

  “Isn’t this kind of girly? For a big tough guy?” I couldn’t resist poking him in the belly, just to see if his abs were as hard as I suspected. My finger met a resistance that I wasn’t sure was even possible with muscle alone, and I pulled my finger away before I spread my hand across his abs to count the six pack hidden under his shirt.

  “Aw, you think I’m big and tough?” His hand moved to the small of my back, the light pressure barely there. But I knew his hand was there. Could feel the heat from it right though my shirt, warming me right through to my belly and lower, to more treacherous body parts.

  I swallowed hard. “No.”

  “You just said I was.”

  “I lied.” I couldn’t help laughing as I said it, and Darwin laughed with me.

  “Go on, go try your dress and see if you can have a donut after or not.” He winked and I stuck my tongue out at him. Unlike my mother, I knew Darwin was teasing and in no way serious.

  The pressure on my back increased and he gave me a soft push in the direction of the seamstress, Martha, her eyes crinkling up with the big smile she gave us. I’d only met her once before, with my mother leading the way. I wondered if Martha was smiling because Celia hadn’t come along for the ride this time.

  Martha led me into the back room and helped me into my wedding dress.

  The dress was cream colored (my mother’s first complaint) and strapless; the chiffon material clung to my waist and bust, accenting them, corseting in the back. A floral pattern of crystals was hand stitched into the dress along the waist, over the hip and then cascaded in a trail down the dress and into the train. Simple, elegant, and I loved it.

  Martha had me stand on the step up platform so she could set the hemline.

  “This is a perfect design to flatter your shape. You are going to be a beautiful bride. Just stunning,” she said around the pins in her mouth.

  “Thank you.” I smoothed my hands over the material, loving the feel of it against my skin.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Darwin said, his eyes catching mine in the mirror. A wave of dizziness swept through me once more, twisted up through my stomach and I fought to breathe steadily and stay still upright. I couldn’t stop staring at him, watched with fascination as he swallowed hard, the bob of his Adam’s apple catching my eye, the dilation of his blue violet eyes obvious in the mirrored reflection.

  “Oh, you can’t see her before the wedding!” Martha jumped to her feet, pins scattering all over the floor.

  Flushing, my face red in the mirrors, I stammered, “Oh, he’s not—”

  “We aren’t getting married.” Darwin shook his head, his eyes finally leaving me to look at Martha. “We’re just friends.”

  Martha looked at me, then back at Darwin, her hands on her hips. “In that case, I suppose you can stay.”

  Darwin pulled up a chair and sat to the left of me. “Are you going to trash the dress after the wedding?”

  “Am I going to what? Are you kidding me? This dress
cost me two months pay!” I laughed as I spoke. He couldn’t be serious—I was, in fact, still paying for the dress. While when it was all said and done, it would cost me two months pay, at the moment I was only about halfway there.

  “No, no. It’s some new thing people are doing. After the wedding, the bride and groom trash the dress. While she’s still wearing it.” He grinned up at me from his chair. Leaning back, he put his hands behind his head, inadvertently showing off his biceps, the lines of his well-defined muscles showing clearly against his shirt. I swallowed and forced myself to keep talking.

  “So what, they just splash it with mud or something? Cut it into shreds?”

  Martha was the one who answered. “No, dear, they use colors, powdered colors of chalk dust or some other substance that will stain the dress without really ruining it, sometimes they use water, oh, it can be all sorts of things. The chalk dust comes out in the dry cleaning, so that’s the best way to go if you’re going to do it, in my opinion.”

  Surprised, I glanced over at Darwin. “How do you know this? I mean … .”

  His eyes widened with innocence. “I’ll never tell. How could you not know about this when your mother is a wedding coordinator?”

  “She’s a traditionalist. Hardcore.” I fingered my dress, tracing a line of crystals so carefully stitched on.

  “Let me guess. The dress is too modern for her.”

  I nodded, gave him a smile, and I caught a glimpse of his eyes and downturned lips in the mirror. Sad, he was far too sad. But was he sad for me, or sad for himself?

  Safer to be staring ahead of me, right into the mirror, than at Darwin. “So where are we going for donuts?”

  “Somewhere they have a lot. Actually, I thought we’d go back to the same café. Those things were homemade and I’ve been dreaming about them, thinking about licking the icing off.” He smiled up at me, dimple and one eye giving me a wink at the same time.

  Again, a wave of dizziness caught me off guard and I didn’t want to acknowledge that it had nothing to do with my head injury. Nope, I had a growing, horrifying suspicion it was all because of one man and his deadly dimple. And the idea of him licking … anything.

  I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped me as the moniker popped into my mind. Deadly Dimple, defender of maidens in distress.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.”

  His violet eyes narrowed. “I have ways of making you talk.”

  I burst out laughing and Martha looked up at me, a concerned look in her eyes. “Hold still, Brielle, or your fiancé will see you in a crooked hemline.”

  The laughter died in me at the mention of Victor, even though Martha didn’t know his name. Or had she reminded me on purpose? Surely it wasn’t obvious how I felt, or was trying not to feel, about Darwin?

  An awkward silence filled the room, and Darwin stood. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

  “We won’t be long,” Martha said, sticking another pin into the hemline.

  I stared into the mirror, tried to imagine walking down the aisle, speaking my vows to Victor, throwing the bouquet, the whole wedding piece by piece running through my mind. Of pledging my life to Victor, of being his wife, of having his children.

  The things I saw only deepened the hollow emptiness I’d felt the night before. Celia was right, of course; it was just cold feet.

  But then why did being with Darwin dispel that empty spot? Why did seeing him smile and laugh and wink at me take away the hollow ache in my body?

  Martha helped me out of my dress, holding the edges so none of the pins stuck me.

  Standing there in nothing but my bra and panties, Martha grabbed my arms with her hands. “Brielle. Don’t. Just don’t, child. Nothing but pain lies that way.” She tipped her head to the waiting room.

  Heat suffused me and I pulled out of her arms, quickly getting back into my jeans and shirt. “Martha, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She let out a sigh, muttering under her breath as she left the room. But her words stayed with me, echoing my nana’s advice, which I still kept in my bedroom drawer in a pink envelope. All these years later, I still had it.

  I clenched my hands together, pressed them against my lips.

  If I didn’t lie to myself, I knew that whatever was between Darwin and I was dangerous. To us both, to both of our relationships.

  The only problem was, I couldn’t push him away. If all I could have was this little bit of him, then I wanted it. He made me happy and I knew that after I married Victor, that would be it.

  God help me, I wanted Darwin in any way I could have him; even if that meant breaking my heart into a million pieces at some point, in that moment, I would take the risk.

  6

  THE REST OF March passed in a blur of work, wedding preparations and donuts with Darwin. Once a week, at least, we met for coffee and donuts at the same shop where we first had them.

  “You know, Baby, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you and Darwin were having an affair.” Victor’s words were like ice down my spine, but I laughed it off quickly. I knew that we’d done nothing wrong. Okay, Darwin never touched my hands anymore and we never flirted. We laughed and talked, and that hollow empty spot was gone for a little while.

  “Please, if I was going to have an affair, do you think I’d be planning to introduce you two? If you recall, I suggested the four of us go out for dinner together. He’s like the brother I never had.”

  I slipped my arms around Victor, gave him a hug. He kissed the top of my head. I’d made the suggestion after telling Victor about hanging out with Darwin. Sure, I was overcompensating, to try and bury my true feelings, but I wasn’t having an affair, and I wanted Victor to be comfortable with the time I spent with Darwin.

  “Speaking of, where are we going for dinner?”

  “Romeo’s.” I pulled away from him and headed to my closet. I didn’t have a lot of clothes, nothing nice enough for Romeo’s, that was for sure.

  “Kind of fancy, isn’t it?”

  I shrugged, knowing I’d be eating nothing but a starter salad, but it was the company I was looking forward to, not the food. I couldn’t afford anything more than that right now. I was still trying to catch up on my bills from taking the time off work from my head injury, pay down my wedding dress, and set some money aside for emergencies.

  Fiona had picked the restaurant; no surprise that she would pick the most expensive one in town. Of course, she’d likely never had to be careful with her money, not if Dr. Winston was right and her daddy was always cleaning up her messes.

  “Yeah, but Fiona is an Upshaw, and they have enough money to do whatever they want, whenever they want.” I stuck my head right in my closet and Victor swatted me on the ass.

  “You don’t like her?”

  “She almost got me killed, Vic. She’s not really on my favorite person list.” I grumbled, my hand pausing on the red dress I’d worn for my birthday. No, Fiona wasn’t my most favorite person. And despite all of the time I’d spent with Darwin, he still wouldn’t tell me about her. Wouldn’t talk about how they ended up married so young, or about anything that had to do with her, or her family. Our visits were about growing up, the things we’d dreamed about, our families and friends. But never our significant others. And I still hadn’t had the guts to tell him about Frank, to see if Darwin was just like Victor and would side with my wealthy stepfather.

  I pulled out the red dress. It might be a bit much for a casual dinner, but I wanted to look nice and I had nothing else that was even remotely nice enough for Romeo’s.

  Of course, looking nice had nothing to do with Darwin.

  Nothing at all.

  Dinner was a train wreck of epic proportions. If I’d foreseen how bad it’d be, I never would have suggested the four of us go out.

  Fiona wore a spectacular, glittering, short, tight, sleeveless dress that made me think of Halloween. As in, it was bright neon orange. Her hair was done up in her trade
mark high pony tail, but that night it was twinned with hanging orange beads that tinkled with every step she took in her five-inch bright orange heels.

  Blinking several times, I had to work at not laughing, and was immensely grateful I’d worn my elegantly simple red dress.

  Fiona resembled a teenage girl going out for her first big dinner. Like she had no idea how over the top her outfit was. Surely she knew? She had to.

  “Hi, Fiona.” I lifted my hand to greet her, giving way to the grin that I couldn’t help. “Where’s Darwin? Don’t tell me he backed out.”

  She giggled and waved at me, with what had to be three pounds of bracelets jangling on her thin wrists. “No, he just went in to see about our table. I don’t like waiting inside.”

  I introduced Fiona to Victor, saw the way his eyes widened with disbelief. When she turned her back, he slid an arm around my waist and whispered, “Please tell me you aren’t taking fashion advice from her.”

  “Shh. Knock it off.” I smacked him lightly in the stomach. “Be nice.”

  The door to the restaurant opened and Darwin stepped out, wiping the grin right off my face. He wore a black button down shirt with a red tie, and black suit pants; simple, yet the cut of the clothes, the way he held himself was … I swallowed hard and pressed a hand to my middle, trying to quell the butterflies that only showed up with Darwin.

  Victor tightened his grip on me with one hand, as if sensing the direction of my thoughts. Maybe this dinner hadn’t been such a good idea. Victor stuck out his other hand. “Nice to see you again. Darwin, right? Though you look a little different out of your paramedic uniform. Or is it like an outfit?”

  Darwin’s eyes slid to me, widened slightly, and then moved to Victor who was watching Darwin watch me. Crap.

  “Vic, nice to see you. And it’s a uniform.”

  They shook hands and I thought I saw a bit of a strain between them, like a test to see who had the stronger grip, but it was gone in a flash. Besides, Darwin could have crushed Vic if he’d wanted to. But he didn’t and I knew he wouldn’t. Out of respect for me, if nothing else.

  Victor’s hand never strayed from my waist, not even once we were seated in the restaurant. The heat from his hand and arm around me was too much, and finally, I had to push them off me, feeling the damp material cling to me where his hand had been.