Choosing the Right Man (NICE GIRL TO LOVE Book Three)

by Violet Duke

  The kid was just too lovable for words some times.

  “Why don’t we play it by ear then? I’m sure Connor wouldn’t mind if I crashed on his couch every once in a while. So maybe you could keep Abby company while your uncle and I watch a game or something. I wouldn’t want Abby to feel like the third wheel after all.”

  Though she wasn’t facing him, he could hear the glimmer of joy in her voice even as she shrugged, “Sure, I mean, if you’re already going to be there and stuff.”

  A bolt of guilt hit him then when he realized how long it’d been since they’d really spent time with Abby. With Abby’s new job and Skylar’s therapy, not to mention the wedding planning, they’d hardly seen each other the past few months. But he wondered now if it was more than that.

  “Hon, I know we haven’t really talked about it much but I really am okay with how everything ended up. I’m happy for them, truly. Abby and I are fine. You shouldn’t feel like you can’t hang out with her or—”

  “I know dad,” she interrupted quietly. “I’m happy for her too. Really. But I can’t help it that I’m still a little sad. So that’s why I’ve been avoiding her. Because I know she’ll be able to tell and I don’t want her to feel bad. Especially not before her big day.”

  He exhaled heavily. “You are one amazing kid, you know that?” He wrapped her up in a big hug. “You know what I think? I think after we see them exchange vows, we’ll have the closure we’re both needing. And we’ll be able to let go of that tiny bit of sadness we can’t seem to shake.”

  She looked up at him with an adorable middle school furrow. “What do you mean by closure?”

  “It’s a chance for our hearts to say a proper goodbye.” He closed his eyes on the hollow ache in his heart. “Before we move on.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Closure,” she agreed softly.

  A sharp knocking at the door had him checking the time. Who would be coming by this early in the morning?

  “Delivery!” called out a bright young voice from the porch.

  Brian opened the door and immediately had two garment bags plopped into his arms. “Mr. Sullivan, these are for you. I just need your signature here.” A digital pen and tablet were thrust in his face by a very determined looking high school kid.

  “I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding—”

  “My instructions were very clear, sir. I was told to make sure you didn’t refuse the delivery and to tell you to open it ASAP. Now if I could just get that signature…”

  First his students and now the delivery boy. This next generation of business sharks in training scared him a bit at times. He quickly signed for the delivery and brought the bags into the house.

  “What are those?” asked Skylar curiously.

  “No idea.” He unzipped the smaller one first, and uncovered a shimmery, lilac covered dress. Pulling it out, he grinned when Skylar began gushing over it. “I think this is for you, cutie.”

  “Open the other one, too! I bet that one’s for you.” Skylar grabbed the dress and held it up to the light, swishing the shimmering fabric to and fro. “It’s so pretty! Who do you think sent it?”

  He unzipped the other garment bag and sure enough, saw a tuxedo in there awaiting him, along with a note.

  Brian,

  If you’re not up there with Abby and Connor during the ceremony, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. Plus, c’mon let’s face it, there’s a good chance I’ll mess things up and lose the rings or something before the vows if you don’t take over. And God knows lilac isn’t my color—clearly, Abby was thinking about someone else when she picked the maid of honor dress. Which is why I special ordered a second one in a smaller size just in case. Frankly, I’m tired of doing your jobs for you two so get dressed and get your asses down here!

  --Victoria (aka the stand-in best woman and mistress of honor)

  Despite the weight of what the note was asking of him, Brian found himself chuckling. He was well aware that Victoria had appointed herself as both best man to Connor and maid of honor to Abby months ago—for the sole purpose of throwing both the bachelor and bachelorette parties, it’d seemed—back when it had been too early, too raw for Brian and Skylar to take on the roles.

  But it appeared she’d had an ulterior motive all along.

  Who would’ve thought?

  Seeing an added note at the bottom of the page in a different handwriting, he chuckled again.

  P.S. Brian, this is your mother. I did not spend an evening getting lost in the abyss that is your closet and the black hole that is my granddaughter’s closet (I see where she gets it) for nothing. The tuxedo and dress should fit you two perfectly so no excuses. I’ll see you in a few hours.

  Wow, for a woman without any years of practice, she did the motherly guilt bit just fine.

  “I thought my closet looked cleaner!” exclaimed Skylar, peeking at the note over his shoulder. “Remember? It was one of the nights you had a game and Grandma really wanted to come over and make dinner.” She cringed at the memory.

  Ah yes, the burnt casserole night. The smell of smoky asparagus had hung on the walls for two days. “Yes, it appears your grandmother has crossed over to the dark side and joined forces with your uncle’s friend on this one.” He studied his daughter carefully. “So what do you think, munchkin? It’s your call. You and I are a team, always will be, so whatever you decide will be my decision too.”

  Skylar took a deep breath and pivoted, walking slowly back to her room. “I need a little time to think about it.”

  Brian called out gently, “Just remember, make this decision for you. And maybe for your uncle and soon-to-be aunt. But not for me, you hear?”

  Nodding, she swiped a photo from the hallway bookshelf and disappeared behind her bedroom door.

  ABBY LOOKED OUT across the rows of people seated on the sand. She’d only been working as a research associate for a few months now but she absolutely loved it, and she’d made fast friends with two similar specialists who were in attendance at the wedding today. She scanned every last seat, smiling briefly at the few faces who were turned her way. Then she searched the rest of the beach as well, but she couldn’t find them.

  The two faces she’d been looking for all morning.

  Willing herself not to cry before the ceremony even started, she took in a deep breath and hooked her arm around her father’s as they waited for the processional music to start.

  He patted her hand gently. “Maybe they had some car trouble, honey.”

  Chuckling, she leaned her head on his shoulder, wishing it were that simple.

  “It’s okay. I’m going to wear them down eventua—” Abby’s words stuttered in her chest, directly over her heart as she saw Connor step up to his spot in front of the minister. He turned to her and lit up the whole beach with his smile.

  Every last person in the audience instantly turned in their chairs, not needing the pre-recording of Canon in D to signal her arrival.

  Because Connor’s look said it all.

  As the crowd stood and the music started, Abby couldn’t remember the aisle being quite so long, the beat of the music being quite so drawn out.

  “Slow down, pumpkin,” chuckled her father and she flushed, realizing she was walking nearly a step in front of him.

  She looked up and saw Connor grinning at her as well, pleased as sin.

  So she slowed down.

  Just to show him she could. Sort of.

  And that made him grin even wider.

  It felt like a lifetime had passed before she was finally within arm’s reach of her husband-to-be...and that’s when Victoria stepped between them.

  “Wait, stop the wedding.”

  Abby felt her jaw go slack, her shock mirrored in Connor’s face.

  Victoria looked at them both and rolled her eyes. “Not for me.” She nodded over toward the parking lot. “Your real wedding party just arrived.”

  Abby spun around and saw Brian and Skylar ru
nning across the sand, Skylar waving her arms like she was trying to land a plane and Brian following close behind trying not to swallow any of the sand she was kicking up in her spastic running.

  Tossing all wedding etiquette out the window, Abby and her groom ran down the aisle to meet their best man and maid of honor halfway.

  “Sorry we’re late,” apologized Brian sheepishly. “Car trouble.”

  “And guess what, Abby? Your SUV was the one that got us here!” squealed Skylar, jingling their set of her spare keys triumphantly.

  Half the crowd laughed out loud at that.

  Abby’s half, of course.

  “Dad drove like a speed demon the whole way here. It was awesome!”

  Yes, that would impress a middle schooler.

  And a very emotional bride.

  “You did?” Abby asked, feeling her heart melt. Brian never did anything so reckless.

  “I couldn’t miss being in my best friend’s wedding.” He glanced over at Connor with a grin. “Oh right, or my brother’s.”

  Connor chortled and they exchanged one of those super emotional double-thump guy hugs. “Glad you could make it, man. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

  Victoria cleared her throat loudly. “Yes, yes. And the whole crowd sighed. We’ve got a wedding to carry out, people!” She quickly directed the guys back up to the front and ushered Abby and her father back up the beach, while she stayed behind and gave Skylar instructions about the procession.

  As they waited once again for the soft music of Pachelbel to play over the speakers, Abby hooked her arm back through her father’s and looked down the way at the two other most important men in her life. Her soul mate and her kindred spirit…her groom and her best friend.

  Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw a swirling bundle of lilac come rushing toward her.

  With an annoyed Victoria chasing after her.

  “Abby,” Skylar smiled through her huffs and puffs, “You know that photo of me at my mom and dad’s wedding? The one I love so much?”

  Abby nodded, smiling as she always did when she thought of that photo sitting in its place of honor on Brian and Skylar’s shelf of treasured memories amongst other photos of Beth, a few family trips, and a dozen or so photos of Skylar and Becky over the years.

  “I’m going to put the photo from this wedding right next to that one,” she whispered, hugging Abby fiercely. “I love you so much. And I’m so happy that I get to call you Aunt Abby from now on.”

  A flood of fresh tears ran down Abby’s face and her heart swelled to a thousand times over capacity. That feeling Brian often referenced of things just clicking into place? She felt it now in an almost overwhelming tidal wave of emotion.

  After thirteen long years, she now had a true and permanent place in this amazing little girl’s life that just…fit.

  “I love you too, kiddo—your entire life, every day more than the last.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  About an hour after that...

  CONNOR WATCHED Brian and Victoria talk, civilly, and actually laugh together as they made their way over to the reception site.

  So miracles do happen.

  Who would’ve thought? Victoria, the woman he would’ve voted least likely to become a romantic, the woman who used to think his one-month rule was generous, was now a diehard convert. Seeing her light up when her date for the evening joined her and Brian over at the refreshment table, Connor smiled.

  Jay was the last person he would’ve paired Victoria with, but quite frankly, those two were a match made in heaven.

  After being given a slight run for her money during his mom’s divorce proceedings—thanks to all the investigative info Jay had managed to dig up for Marcus—Victoria had sought Jay out with the express purpose of stealing him over to her firm, offering nearly double his current investigator salary. He’d played hardball of course and had her wine and dine him for three nights in a row. On the day following, he’d told her he had no intention of leaving his firm but he would be at her house that night at seven sharp to pick her up for their fourth date.

  Connor was glad to see his two friends so happy.

  “If she weren’t the official guardian angel/doberman of this wedding, I might take offense to you looking at another woman right now.”

  Connor smiled when he felt his wife’s arms snake around his waist.

  His wife. He’d never get tired of that. Gathering her in his arms, he simply stared at her, loving her so much he couldn’t speak for a moment.

  “Okay, never mind,” she whispered breathlessly, in that sweet and sexy as sin voice of hers. “You can stare at however many women you want as long as you save that look right there just for me.”

  “You promise you’ll only ever sound like that around me and you’ve got yourself a deal, honey.”

  She smiled. “Do you want to head to our room for a bit to ‘seal’ this deal?”

  Who needed air quotes with a sex kitten purr like that?

  Groaning, he pulled her in close and growled in her ear, “Behave, woman. These tuxedo pants don’t exactly have a whole lot of give.”

  “I know,” she said appreciatively, brushing up against him in that complete feline, utterly feminine way that always drove him nuts.

  His fingers flexed involuntarily into her lush hips. “Might I remind you that waiting until tonight was your bright idea.” He nipped at her earlobe gruffly. Whoever first suggested the insane idea of engaged couples taking a break from sex before their wedding ceremony was a masochist.

  “You’re right,” she sighed, looking not in the least bit contrite. “But I really do need to head up to our room. According to the doberman, I only have about thirty minutes for my wardrobe change before the reception.”

  That was news to him. “You have another dress for the reception? I didn’t know that.”

  “It’ll be a quick change. Can you come help me?”

  “Sure.”

  Up in their honeymoon suite, Connor sank back onto the couch and kicked his legs up for a bit. Thirty minutes, huh? He might be able sneak in a quick nap.

  Or a quick something else.

  God knows he needed it.

  Since his bride had insisted on a whole month of celibacy before the wedding, he was riding a fine edge. Hell, a strong enough breeze off Lake Powell was probably all it’d take to get him going right about now. And the seductive imp had darn well guaranteed he’d be this strung out too, what with the way she’d basically tortured him daily for the past few weeks—hang-drying more new pairs of barely-qualified-to-be panties in their bathroom, and other equally fiendish things like that.

  “Hey Connor? Can you help me with this latch?”

  “Sure—” Holy. Shit. With the now rapidly diminishing blood supply to his brain, he managed to rasp out quickly, “I thought you needed to change your dress.” She hadn’t mentioned anything about lingerie.

  Sexy as hell lingerie.

  Drive him insane lingerie.

  “No, not my dress, just my underwear.” She smiled. “So can you help me with this latch down here?”

  Evil, evil, evil.

  Christ, he loved her.

  He made quick work of the little latch that really didn’t seem like she needed all that much help with.

  Not that he was complaining.

  “Thank you,” she said as she slid her arms around him and pulled him down for a kiss.

  He groaned low and loud, dragged himself to the other side of the couch to stop himself from jumping her right then and there. “You can’t kiss me like that, Abby. Not right now. I’m on a hair trigger here.”

  “But we have a whole twenty minutes to spare now that you’ve taken care of my wardrobe needs so quickly,” she argued back in a bedroom soft voice as she traced her hands slowly down her midriff. Lower. And then lower.

  Oh, good lord. “Sweetheart, you said you wanted to wait till our wedding night.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Ma
ybe if he held it long enough, the rest of him would even out his color so he could be their ‘something blue.’

  “No,” she said simply as she took advance of his sight loss and toppled him back down onto the couch. “I just said our wedding.” She straddled his legs. “Well, it’s our wedding. And I think I’m in the mood for a little wild and fast.”

  “At this rate, you’ll have to be the ‘wild’ then because sweetheart, I’m definitely going to be the ‘fast.’”

  His eyes flew open in surprise, and then slammed shut again at the feel of her hand curving around him, torturing him through his tuxedo slacks. “Christ. Abby, honey you can’t...” A shudder racked him and he grabbed her hand. His chest rose and fell unevenly. “I can’t take much more of that.”

  “What can’t you take? Just my hands?”

  He swallowed thickly and watched, practically catatonic as her fingers traced the edges of her bra, before drifting down her stomach to the edges of her panties.

  “Or are you saying I can’t put my mouth on you either, Connor?” Her lower lip jutted out in the most devastatingly seductive pout. “Because that’s what I’ve been fantasizing about for the past few weeks.”

  There went her clasp of her bra.

  His sanity seemed to disappear with it.

  She stretched back up to her full height then, hypnotically slow, arching against—but not quite touching—his torso with her own. So. Damn. Sexy.

  He sank back against the couch, resolve obliterated. “Dress back on, honey. Can’t take much more.” Proper grammar was now officially beyond his scope.

  His eyes squeezed shut to keep the fantasies from coming alive right in arm’s reach. The sound of fabric sliding down silky smooth skin made him even harder. Hotter. “Abby,” he warned roughly.

  More silky rustling.

  And a warm bra landed on his lap.

  A pair of miniscule panties followed soon after.

  Connor’s hands immediately shot to her hips when she settled atop his lap. He tried not to choke on his own tongue as he forced himself to open his eyes...and not look down.