A Wedding Tail

by Casey Griffin

  Pushing him aside, she shifted on the couch until she was on top, straddling him. She couldn’t take it anymore. Popping the top button on his jeans, she unzipped his fly. When she tugged his jeans down over his hips, he was wearing boxers. They only gave her a teasing hint of what bulged beneath.

  Greedy for more, she reached for the waistline of his shorts. Before she could pull them down too, he grabbed her wrists and drew her back up for a kiss. As his lips grazed hers, she pulled back in surprise.

  Kissing was for romance. If she wanted romance, she’d be watching a chick-flick with Addison.

  “We can’t skip the foreplay. That’s my favorite part,” he said. “I’m good at it.”

  “Yeah? Like what?” She bit his chin playfully, feeling the scrape of his stubble against her teeth.

  “Like flirting.”

  “Mmmm,” she groaned. “You’re good at that.”

  Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, she tugged at it, ready to rip it right off of him. Sliding it up, she exposed the smooth, hard chest she’d previewed in the vestry—and had imagined touching ever since. She ran her tongue against his hairless skin.

  “And talking,” he said, but she noticed his voice was a bit breathless.

  “Yes.” Zoe panted. “Talk dirty to me.”

  “And hand-holding.”

  Her lips paused against his tight stomach. “Umm. Yeah, okay.”

  “And texting thoughtful messages throughout the day.”

  “Like sexting?” She shook her head in confusion.

  She was done with the talking now. It was torture. He’d been after her since the day they’d met, so now that she wanted him, why was he drawing this out? When she needed it the most?

  He claimed to be the kind of guy who reached out and grabbed life by the balls. And now that she’d decided to do the same, he was playing hard to get.

  Tired of playing around, she took a page from his sheet music. Reaching out, she grabbed those balls—literally. His balls.

  Levi jumped, surprised by the touch. “Whoa.” Before she could feel anything more, he tugged his pants back up. “Wait. What are you doing?”

  “Grabbing life by the balls. Was I too rough?” she asked. “You strike me as a guy who likes it rough.” She gave his ear a nip.

  He laughed, but gently held her away so he could meet her eyes. “I feel like you’ve misunderstood the ball-grabbing theory.”

  “What are we waiting for?” she asked. “You’re ready. I’m ready.”

  “Ready for what?”

  “Sex.”

  “Oh, we’re not having sex,” he said. “At least not tonight.” Although by the way he took in the sight of her straddling him, she thought he must be kidding.

  She shook her head as though the sex fog clouding her brain had affected her hearing too. “What?”

  “It’s too soon for that.”

  Zoe slid off his lap and back onto the leather. “Are we on some kind of schedule I don’t know about?”

  He straightened up on the couch to face her. “I just mean that we should get to know each other better first. Hobbies, likes, dislikes, family. That my childhood’s pet name was Jujube.”

  She leaned toward him again, running her hands up his chest with a coy smile. He couldn’t be serious. “Why get into all that when we’re clearly attracted to each other. Let’s just have some fun.”

  “I’m trying to. But I want more first.” He grabbed her hand as though to hold it.

  She pulled it back like he’d burned her. “How much more?”

  “Like a date. A few of them. Dinner at a restaurant. Maybe a movie. That new rom-com just opened up. I could take you to that on Friday night,” he said hopefully.

  Zoe wrinkled her nose. “A rom-com?” She laughed. Was this a joke? “Okay rock star. Let’s cut the crap, shall we? I’m offering you sex with no strings attached. Except that if it’s good, maybe I’ll want to do it again.”

  Levi leaned back against the couch and gave her a hard look. “But I don’t want that.”

  “Then what do you want?”

  “I want more.” He gestured to her, like he meant specifically more of her, not just her body.

  “I don’t do more. I’m not a relationship girl. To be honest, I don’t even do this.” She waved a hand at the couch. At them.

  “We’re not doing anything.” He laughed, like she was being ridiculous.

  The sound of it set her back rigid. She’d practically just thrown herself at him, and he was laughing? “You’re right,” she said. “We’re not doing anything.” Tugging her skirt back down, she stood up and gently picked her sleeping puppy off the chair.

  “Wait a minute,” Levi said. “What’s going on? I don’t get it. You seemed interested. I thought we had something going here.”

  “Yeah, so did I.” Zoe grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

  He laughed again. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t want any of this romantic crap.” She waved a dismissive hand at the dinner, and the candles, and the jazz music. “Come on. What’s with the thoughtful texts and foot rubs? You’re supposed to be Mr. Rock Star. You stay out all night and wake up with lipstick on your cheek in the morning. Are you being serious right now?”

  He crossed his arms like she’d offended him. Maybe as a rock star. Maybe as a romantic at heart. “I’d like to be serious about you. But unless you want the same thing, then I think we’re done here.”

  “I think you’re right. Come on, Freddy.”

  Zoe wrenched open the sliding metal door and stormed out of the apartment. It clanged shut behind her.

  She didn’t know what consumed her more: the humiliation at being rejected when she’d practically thrown herself at him or the frustration of knowing that her vibrators were going to be useless again when she got home. Either way, she wasn’t getting any with Levi or herself that night. In a pan or otherwise.

  13

  Singing the Blues

  Zoe pulled out of the Monday-morning traffic and into a free space in front of a brick office building on Folsom Street. The four-story, early 1900s structure was once a hotel that had been converted into an office building long ago. The quaint details of its previous life had been restored like the ad painted on the brick, advertising rooms for rent.

  She killed the engine and the radio shut off. Freddy whined from the passenger seat, wondering what they were waiting for. Or maybe it was because he had to pee. Or because he was hungry. Or because he was simply being Freddy. Since he was proving to be a highly unusual dog, she thought it might take some time to get better at communicating with him. She supposed that’s why all people who adopted dogs from the center were given a two-week trial run. Because not all adoptions went to plan.

  He whined again, but Zoe was in no rush to get to work. After that weekend’s fiasco at the expo, there wasn’t a lot to look forward to. Just a lot of damage control.

  With his two-second attention span, Freddy got fed up with waiting for her and hopped down from the passenger seat, sniffing his way into the back. A few seconds later, a thump made Zoe jump in her seat. She spun around to find Freddy buried beneath a pile of clean, pressed cloth napkins she’d just bought—or at least they were clean.

  The pile shifted and twitched until a tan beard nudged out. Freddy spun in a circle. He dug at the pile a couple of times, burrowing like a true doxie before worming his way into the hole he’d built.

  Zoe tutted. “Freddy.”

  The doxie laid his head on his paws as his tail slapped against his makeshift bed, in a totally-not-guilty way. I didn’t do it.

  Zoe rolled her eyes. She couldn’t argue with that.

  This wasn’t the calm, well-behaved dog she’d planned on adopting. What if he never settled down? If he continued to act like a lunatic throughout their two-week trial period, she wasn’t sure it was going to work out between them. Maybe they were just too different.

  She had to admit, he had his momen
ts. He’d been good the entire drive to her office, but now he couldn’t seem to sit still. Maybe he just liked car rides. Or maybe, she thought, Levi’s theory was right, and the dog liked to jam.

  Turning the key until the radio tuned in, she peered into the back loaded with the new supplies she’d bought to replace her damaged stuff. It only took a few moments for Freddy to stop his relentless, and destructive, burrowing. Laying his head down, he kicked back like he was just chilling to some soothing Jack Johnson.

  Pulling out her tablet, she made a note to pick up some speakers for her office. The time at the top of the screen told her she was running way behind her usual schedule.

  She’d popped by her mother’s house that morning to stock the fridge with groceries before she was released from hospital later that day. And of course, her hour-long session with her toys that morning didn’t help either. And like usual, it resulted in nothing but failure, dead batteries, and frustration.

  Every time she’d gotten even remotely close, an image of Levi pushing her away would pop into her head. And every time, she would grow angrier and more furious with him, like he’d intended to steal her orgasms from day one. Like his penis was a giant pink eraser that had left her with a completely blank sexual page.

  She had nothing left, it seemed, unless she was near him. Then her urges shot into overdrive.

  And for some reason, compared to everything—her mom’s illness, the expo, her van getting trashed, Piper’s dress, her brake lines—that seemed like the worst thing at that moment. Because the one thing that could get her though all that stress had been stolen. By Levi Dolson.

  Zoe wanted to scream and throw a tantrum, drive her rental van over him and then throw it into reverse and do it all over again. She didn’t understand how she could want someone so badly and yet want to kill him at the same time.

  The very thought of him made her both horny and angry. She groaned, banging her head against her steering wheel. The beautiful hate-sex they could have. If only he’d have sex with her at all.

  The only other thing that was effective in putting her thoughts back into harmony was making lists. So Zoe leaned back in the morning sun shining through the windshield to mentally go over her to-do list for the day. Of course, Piper’s wedding consumed her itinerary, since it was less than two weeks away. And at the top of the priority list was scheduling an appointment at a bridal store for a replacement dress. It was going to take a miracle to find one and have it altered in time.

  Sighing, Zoe resigned herself to start the day and pulled the key out of the ignition. It was like a signal for Freddy to start snooping for something to chew on. As she reached to open her door, a figure popped up next to the van and rapped sharply on the window.

  Freddy barked in surprise, running back up to the front, knocking over a box of blank thank-you cards. Then Zoe saw the bright pantsuit and over-processed blonde hair and nearly screamed.

  Rolling down the window, Zoe shushed Freddy’s persistent barking. Picking him up off the floor, she soothed him until his barks subdued into mumbled threats.

  Bleached teeth flashing, Holly Hart leaned through the window. “Darling! It’s so good to see you.”

  Zoe heaved a sigh. Holly was the last person she wanted to see right then. “What are you doing here, Holly?”

  The reporter slipped her oversized sunglasses on top of her head. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d pop in for a little girl chat.” She gave Zoe a not-so-subtle wink. “What do you say we go grab a coffee and catch up?”

  “We don’t have anything to catch up on.” Zoe opened her door, shoving Holly out of the way with it.

  Holly pouted. “Now don’t be like that. We were like old pals at the expo, remember? Now where were we?” Her friendly smile melted and she fixed a don’t-mess-with-me look on her plastic face. “Oh right. I was doing you a favor by not running a story that would have been super embarrassing for you, and you were telling me all about your friend’s upcoming wedding. Now go ahead. Gush. It’s just us girls.”

  Zoe ignored her and went to grab her supplies from the back, but when she rounded the van, Hey, You shoved his camera in her face.

  She scowled at him and gave Holly a look. “Just us girls?”

  “Oh, right. And him. But don’t be shy. It’s for note-taking purposes only.” She waved him away like he was simply air. “Just ignore him. I do.”

  Zoe could have sworn she heard him huff in annoyance, but he never stopped recording for a second. She ignored both of them and wrenched open the back doors.

  Holly took a seat in the back, crossing her legs super casually. Now Zoe couldn’t get rid of her without physically tossing her aside or slamming the door closed on her—which were tempting options.

  “Listen up,” Zoe said. “I have nothing more to give you on the Summers-Caldwell wedding.”

  She picked up her bag, slinging it over the arm that wasn’t burdened by a wriggling doxie. She began to close the van doors, hoping the reporter would take the hint.

  Holly held out a hand to stop the door from shutting on her. She wasn’t going to move an inch. “Don’t hold out now, Plum. Remember? It’s tit for tat.”

  Zoe’s teeth clenched. “Yeah. I remember.” She took a deep breath.

  While Zoe didn’t want to give her any sort of tit, she needed Holly’s tat. Not only did she fail to gain new clients at the expo, but her run-in with Chelsea probably cost her some reputation points for the next season. However, she also wasn’t about to go against her best friends’ wishes to keep her wedding on the down low. She’d given enough info away at the expo.

  “Look,” she began, “I appreciate you not running that story on me—”

  “Then show your appreciation and give me some facts.” Holly made a gimme-gimme motion with her manicured hand. “It’s not a big deal, you know. If I search hard enough, I can easily dig up the same info. It would just take a few annoying phone calls,” she said as though making a phone call was, like, the hardest thing to do in the world.

  Zoe scoffed. “To who?”

  “To florists, seamstresses, caterers.” Her eyes rolled back into her head just standing there listing them off. “Eventually I’d find the right ones. But that sounds incredibly boring, so why don’t you save me some time? No one has to know it was you.”

  Zoe cocked an eyebrow at the camera. “I bet.”

  Holly hopped out of the van and waved the cameraman away. Zoe saw the red light on the front dim before he lowered it and began packing up his equipment.

  “Just give me some meaningless tidbits to keep my fans satisfied,” she said. “The venue, perhaps?”

  Zoe laughed, slamming the van doors and locking them. “There’s no way you’re getting the venue.” Or anything for that matter, she thought.

  She spun toward the office building where she could lock her door and be free from Holly’s harassment. But Holly’s heels clicked sharply on the sidewalk as she kept on her.

  “Oh, come on. You can tell little old me. Where’s it taking place?”

  Zoe spun to face her, trying to use her extra height to look down on the sleazy news reporter. “I can’t, I won’t tell you. And certainly not the public. If I did, the place would be crawling with curious looky-loos. Or worse.” She narrowed her eyes. “You.”

  Holly pouted. “Fine. Then what about the florist?”

  Zoe hesitated. She chewed on her lip as she thought about that one. She couldn’t see any harm in it, not if it would get Holly off her back. Besides, her florist was like an artist. And Zoe believed strongly in cross promoting her contacts in the wedding industry. It was all about building a reputation. And what goes around comes around. Tit for tat, she supposed.

  Finally, she relented. “It’s Pushing Daisies on 16th.” With that, she turned and grabbed the door handle, but Holly blocked her from opening it.

  “And the person performing the ceremony?”

  “I think you’ve got enough intel already. I don’t ne
ed you harassing the justice of the peace.”

  Holly’s eyes lit up. “Oh, so they’re not going the religious route then?”

  Zoe cringed. That wasn’t something she’d wanted to reveal. It would be an entire post for Holly’s blog all on its own. “Now if you’re done harassing me, I need to get to my office.”

  “What do you mean harass?” Her mouth dropped open in offense. “I don’t harass. I investigate.”

  Zoe ignored her and wrenched the door open, hitting Holly so she stumbled out of the way. Slipping inside, she let the door close behind her. She could still hear Holly yelling through the glass.

  “Great talk! We’ll have to do it again soon.”

  Freddy barked over Zoe’s shoulder. Good-bye! His tail whipped back and forth against Zoe’s blouse, like, Wasn’t she nice?

  Zoe waited until they were on the fourth floor before she set him down in the hall so he could sniff and explore his new surroundings. If she ended up adopting him, he’d be spending a lot of time there with her, so he might as well get comfortable.

  In the past, the landlord had allowed her to keep Buddy there during her office hours, so she knew it would be all right to bring Freddy to work. Then again, Freddy wasn’t quite the well-behaved dog her last one was.

  She whistled, calling him as she headed toward the office with the deep plum-colored sign that read Plum Crazy Events. He trailed behind, sniffing dubiously beneath random doors. Thankfully, no one came out to see what all the snorting at their door was about.

  She had no appointments booked with clients, so when she turned the corner to her office and a man stood there waiting, she gasped in surprise.

  Then she saw who it was and felt even more surprised. “Owen. Hi … How are you?”

  At her reaction, his lips curled into a smile, but the rest of his face didn’t seem to want to join in. “Good. You know, all things considered.”

  “Still haven’t patched things up with Juliet?”

  He shook his head. “She won’t even return my calls. I’ve sent her texts, e-mails, flowers, but she doesn’t want to see me.”