by Mia Madison
I squeaked in surprise when he jolted up out of the chair, barely managing to catch myself before falling backward. Charles lifted me into his arms and I wrapped my legs around his back, grinning as he carried us to the bedroom.
“Looks like I won’t be sleeping on the couch after all.”
His eyes twinkled with mischief as he said, “You won’t be sleeping at all.”
It was going to be a long damn night.
12
In my experience, mornings after a night of casual sex usually brought forth the harsh light of day, but those expectations were dashed when Charles rolled on top of me and spent the beginning of our day much like we had the previous night.
Which was pretty much me clinging to either his hair or his back and screaming his name while he went down on me as promised then rode me like a stallion.
Charles may have been in his forties, but he fucked like a man half his age. His stamina was impressive, to say the least.
“We should get up,” he said after a round of slow morning sex, turning to face me with a satisfied smile. “What time is the wedding?”
“Two. But I need to pick up my dress and be at the hall by noon.”
He groaned and pushed himself up, rolling out of bed and offering me his hand as he said, “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late. Come on—we’ll grab something to eat on the way to the dress shop.”
I rushed to the living area to grab my bag, quickly getting dressed and smiling when I realized it still smelled like massage oil and sex in the room. Once I was clothed, I headed down to the bathroom to brush my teeth and attempt to fix my sex hair while Charles finished getting dressed.
A moment later and he was sharing the mirror space with me, adjusting his knotted tie before putting on his cuff links. He looked delicious and when I told him as much, he gave me a warning look.
“Like I said last night—”
“Don’t start what I don’t intend to finish, I know,” I said, cutting him off. “But I intend to finish it tonight.”
“That’s too far away,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled my back flush against his chest while his fingers started trailing up toward my chest. “I’ll never make it.”
“I think you can survive.”
“I could before I knew how it felt to be inside you. Now I’m not so sure.”
For a man of few words, he certainly knew how to pick the right ones. Unfortunately, they were the perfect words to get me all revved up at the wrong damn time.
I spun around and tapped on his chest, winking up at him before I said, “Save it for the bedroom, Mr. King. Let’s go get my dress.”
“Call me sir.”
I rolled my eyes and left the bathroom, giving up on even bothering to fix my hair. I was sure Brooke’s stylist could deal with a few stray knots.
“Good Lord. Did you stick your head out a bloody car window?”
“Something like that,” I muttered with a wince as she yanked at another knot.
Brooke failed to stifle her laughter as the stylist attempted to run her fine-toothed comb through my hair. When it became clear that it wasn’t going to cut it, she cursed under her breath and went in search of a more serious tool.
When she was out of hearing range, Brooke spun around in her chair and folded her arms across her chest as she accusingly whispered, “Car window, my ass. I know sex hair when I see it. Spill.”
“It’s not sex hair,” I whispered back, giving her a pointed look when the sound of the stylist’s heels clicking on the marble floor signaled her arrival. “Now hush.”
“I’ll get it out of you eventually,” Brooke said smugly, narrowing her eyes at me before nonchalantly turning back toward the mirror and fiddling with her eyeliner. “Where’s your date?”
“He’s not my date. He’s my boss who just happened to need some time off and decided to join me.”
“You mean invited himself along to the wedding of people he’s never even met. Because normal bosses do that so frequently.”
The stylist began fighting my hair with a large brush as she asked, “Invited himself along?”
“Well—ouch! Easy,” I griped, reaching up to check and make sure she didn’t give me any bald spots before continuing. “Well I just started this job and it was really awkward asking for time off, so when he mentioned coming along, I didn’t want to rock the boat by saying no.”
“You wouldn’t have said no regardless,” Brooke commented with a snort. “If there wasn’t something there, you wouldn’t be so cagey about him.”
Even the stylist chimed in. “The guy sounds like a right piece of work to me. But I think you’re spot on, bridey. Would explain the hair. Got you some this morning, didn’t ya?”
Brooke smiled victoriously and I rolled my eyes, trying to figure out when my life had turned into a sitcom where a British hairdresser commented on my hypothetical feelings for a man almost twice my age who also happened to be my boss.
Sitcom? Throw in a dead body and it’ll be a damn soap opera, I thought to myself as she ripped at my hair yet again.
“Here comes the bride!” I sang loudly and out of tune, much to Brooke’s annoyance as she exited the changing room. I planned on teasing her more, but seeing her standing there in her wedding dress glaring at me angrily took the jokes right out of me.
“You look so beautiful. I still can’t believe you’re getting married. What’s next? Kids? Am I going to be a godmother?”
Brooke laughed and shook her head. “No kids, at least not for a long while. But I think I’ve almost talked Joshua into getting a cat.”
“I’m not playing godmother to a cat,” I responded dryly. “However, I suppose I will get busy on my maid of honor duties and go track down your bouquet. I’ll be right back.”
I waited for her nod of acknowledgment before leaving the room, almost running head-on into Brooke’s mom as I did.
“Finley, darling! How are you?” she shrieked as she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed harder than I would have preferred. When she pulled away, she kept her long nails digging into my shoulders as she said, “Let me have a look at you. Oh, you’re such a beautiful girl. Your sister is a spitting image! And oh my—isn’t this such a beautiful venue for a wedding? Aren’t you so excited? I do hope to be invited to your wedding when you—”
“For God’s sake, Karen. Tone it down. You’re scaring the poor girl.”
I shot a grateful look to Brooke’s dad and a polite nod to his new wife, gesturing to the door I stepped out of.
“The bride’s just inside. I’d love to chat, but I’ve got flowers to track down.”
Before her mom could utter another word—or God help me, offer her assistance—I dashed down the hall as quickly as my heels would allow. I was certain I’d seen the florist carrying around the bouquet of peonies not long ago, but locating him in the crowd wasn’t an easy task.
I spotted Charles first. Then—to my great surprise—my sister, speaking animatedly to him. Layla lingered by his side as well, a little too close for my liking.
Fucking Layla.
I found my feet carrying me over to them without even thinking about it. Charlie smiled when I approached, stopping whatever story she was telling when she saw the frown on my face.
But Charles beat her to the punch when he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I need to find the florist. Young guy about yay high, blonde hair, white suit with a bright green tie?”
“Sounds like he’d be hard to miss,” Charlie said with a little laugh.
“He is and yet somehow, I can’t fucking find him. He has Brooke’s bouquet.”
Everyone began to scan the crowd, but Charles' height gave him an edge that we didn’t have. After a few seconds of searching, he crisply said, “Over there.”
I followed the direction of his finger as he pointed, but I couldn’t spot him. Still, I muttered my thanks and pushed my way through the throngs of people until I finally caugh
t a flash of white. When he noticed me, he gave me a bashful smile like he somehow knew I was looking for him.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s tacky to wear white to a wedding?”
He chuckled. “You say tacky, I say ‘making a statement.’ But I’m not staying for the ceremony.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded as he handed me the bouquet. “Thank you.”
“Give my regards to the bride and groom, would you?”
“Will do.”
He smiled and graced me with an exaggerated bow, one I couldn’t help but laugh at. As I turned around to head back to Brooke, I caught sight of Charles and Layla, my sister nowhere to be found.
And in an unsurprising twist, Layla had her hand placed on Charles upper arm, leaning in close to whisper something that made him laugh.
I narrowed my eyes at the back of her skull, willing her hair to spontaneously catch on fire. He might not have been my date, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see my little sister’s friend hanging all over him.
As the music began to play and the minister called for everyone to begin taking their seats, I forced the negative thoughts out of my mind and returned all my attention to performing my maid of honor duties.
It was surreal walking down the aisle. I smiled at Joshua as I approached the podium, but I don’t think he even noticed. He was staring down the aisle waiting for Brooke to appear.
When she did, I instinctively glanced over to watch Joshua’s face. Any lingering remnants of doubts I once had about the two of them were destroyed when I saw his ecstatic grin.
They were truly too adorable for words. The perfect couple—age difference be damned.
As soon as the thought hit me, my eyes flickered to the rows and searched for Charles. It was strange to find him sitting beside Charlie and I tried to imagine what they possibly could have bonded over.
All right, so maybe I didn’t wonder. Maybe I was secretly hoping that they had bonded over me.
Looking back to Brooke and how happy she appeared as her father escorted her up the aisle, I wondered if such a happy ending might ever be plausible for Charles and me.
Just considering it was frightening, but I knew it was unavoidable. There was something between us just like Brooke had guessed, the only question left being whether I’d be strong enough to weather the storms we’d inevitably face on the path to see exactly what it was.
Joshua took Brooke’s hand from Brandon’s, giving him a grateful nod before bringing her hand up to place a kiss on her knuckles.
As they smiled at each other and the minister began the official ceremony, all I could think was that I wanted a happy ending, too.
13
It wasn’t until after the ceremony, and the meal that followed, that Brooke was finally able to get a moment of peace. Of course, that moment of peace only occurred by ducking into the ladies room when no one was looking.
“I’m married!” she happily exclaimed as soon as the door was shut behind me. Her tone lowered and her eyes went wide as she said, “I can’t believe I’m married.”
“This isn’t doubt, is it? You’re not enlisting me to help you become a runaway bride?”
“No, no. It’s just… shock. In a good way.”
“Thank God,” I said as I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. “I was worried you were about to take my duties to the next level.”
“But you would have?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Now that’s some dedication. You really are my best friend, Finley,” Brooke said with a small smile. “Thank you so much for being here.”
“Thank you for not taking my previous opinions of you and Joshua into consideration when picking your wedding party. I really was an asshole about it at times."
“You saw the light eventually,” Brooke replied with a shrug. “That’s what counts. And I get the sneaking suspicion that you’ll truly understand sooner than you think.”
I groaned. “Let it go, will you?”
“I will not,” she argued, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door. “Now introduce me to this boss of yours. I want to put a face to the voice I heard on the phone.”
I relented with a sigh, glancing at the floor and feeling grateful that Brooke’s dress didn’t have a ridiculous train. At least I didn’t have to constantly bend down and keep her gown from running across the floor. Then again, the floors were so clean you could probably eat off them. Not that I planned to test that.
Brooke was already looking around and when I pointed toward where my sister and he were standing near the bar chatting, she let out a short, incredulous laugh.
“That’s your boss?” Brooke asked, her eyebrows raising as she looked Charles up and down. “Damn. What’s up with men getting better looking with age? It’s really unfair.”
“Hey, you want to stop eying my date like he’s a piece of meat? You just got married,” I reminded her, making a chiding sound with my tongue. “I wonder what your husband would say.”
Brooke smiled like she just won the lottery. “I wonder what your boss would say if he heard you refer to this as a date. You’re busted, Finley. I know you slept together. I’m way too familiar with the ‘I-want-you-but-we-can’t-let-anyone-know’ look. Out with it.”
“Fine. You’re right.”
“Ha!” she victoriously exclaimed. “And how long has this been going on?”
“Since last night. It really didn’t mean anything.”
The look she gave me was unimpressed. “We lived together for years, Finley, and I watched you go through losers like it was going out of style. If it really meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to hide it from me.”
She had a point—an incredibly valid point. I sighed heavily, trying to ignore the sad but knowing look that flashed across her face.
“Tell him how you feel,” she urged, nudging me on the arm. “What harm could it possibly do?”
“It could get me fired and end with me becoming homeless.”
“Such a drama queen,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Before she could say more, Joshua appeared out of nowhere and gripped her wrist, raising her hand above their heads, guiding her into a twirl before pulling her against him and lowering to a dip.
“Dance with me, angel?”
“Yes, please,” she said with a smile. “You going to be all right, Finley?”
“I’ll be fine. Go enjoy your wedding. Hopefully it’ll be your only one.”
Joshua growled. “You’re damn right it will be.”
Brooke giggled as Joshua possessively whisked her onto the dance floor and I found myself watching for a long while as they happily twirled around the room, so obviously in love. I was so enraptured by the scene that I didn’t notice the presence at my back until a pair of dainty fingers landed on my shoulder.
“Hey,” I greeted, giving my sister a hug. “Having fun?”
Charlie nodded. “Very much. I’m glad Brooke invited me. They make a lovely couple.”
I smiled, hoping it would help me fight off the sigh. I spoke to my sister frequently on the phone, but it was more obvious in person that she was just as shy and withdrawn as ever. While she was a smart girl, I did often worry about what was going to happen when she got a boyfriend for the first time. I didn’t have to stretch my imagination very far to see a man attempting to take advantage of her naivety.
“Char! Did you see the hot piece of ass working the bar?” Layla yelled as she stumbled into my sister. “This is even better than Ava’s birthday party!”
Then there was Layla. Fucking Layla.
Charlie gave me an apologetic smile and turned her friend toward the dance floor. “Why don’t you find someone to dance with? I wanted to speak to Finley alone for a minute.”
“Okay, girl. But I think I’ll hit the bathroom first. Catch up with me when you’re done, yeah? Bye, big sis!”
She blew us both kisses before drunkenly turning away and wandering
toward the exit, leaving me to stare blankly at Charlie.
“I see Layla found the bar.”
“That she did. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I said, waving a hand through the air. “It’s not my wedding she’s trashed at.”
Charlie twisted her hands together, nervously looking out to the couple in question as she asked, “Do you think Brooke is mad? I only invited her because Dad said—”
“Brooke knows how Dad is and no, she’s not mad. But I highly doubted you wanted a minute alone to talk about Layla. What’s up?”
Charlie blushed and I felt my panic begin to grow. Worse case scenarios started going through my head rapid-fire—everything from her having a crush on Charles to her telling me she lost her virginity in the back of a minivan with the creepy kid who lived next door to our parents’ house.
Charlie opened her mouth and abruptly shut it, frowning at my expression.
“You look like you saw a ghost. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally good. What is it you want to talk about?” I asked, cursing the high pitch of my voice and hoping that she couldn’t see just how freaked I really was.
“I… I just wanted to tell you I really like Charles. He’s very nice.”
“Oh God—please don’t tell me you have a crush on him.”
Her face paled and her eyes went wide. “What? No! I-I meant I like him for you—as your boyfriend. He is your boyfriend, isn’t he? That’s what he told me.”
“He—What? He said that?”
Charlie looked more confused than ever, but she still smiled and nodded. “Yeah. He said even though you only started seeing each other recently, it was getting serious so he came out with you for the weekend,” she explained, sighing wistfully. “That’s so romantic.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is,” I agreed, my eyes wandering from hers and locking on Charles’ where he stood on the other side of the room, speaking to a groomsman. “I uh, I just didn’t think we were telling people yet. That’s why I was surprised.”
