by Jody Wallace
Then, hopefully, so would her wedding plans.
“Wait.” She pressed a finger to her temple. “Is this a trick to get help cleaning the barn for the reception tomorrow? Did the maid service cancel?”
“Everything’s fine.” They’d hired local businesses to staff the reception—cleaning, catering, photographing, and so on. “Tonight is all for you.”
A reluctant smile chased away whatever was left of her pout. “For me, huh?”
He nodded. Tonight was when Caro would appreciate how he’d pulled out all the stops to be the best maid of honor and loyal friend. She knew he didn’t want her to get married to Pencil Neck. She didn’t know why—hell, he’d only just figured it out himself—but she knew. And when she saw what he’d accomplished, she’d realize how determined he was to make her happy.
Only she mattered. Only Caroline and what she wanted. In the face of his devotion, she’d finally take to his objections to her marriage seriously.
What he’d planned for the rest of the evening was so perfect, even Jhi would admit it hadn’t been a mistake to choose him as maid of honor. And Jhi wouldn’t be at all disappointed if the end result was Caroline staying in Tallwood, surrounded by her friends.
He herded the ladies through the darkened front yard. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded when many of them couldn’t walk a straight line and most had on at least one high-heeled shoe. He had to track down no fewer than six sandals and pumps in the freshly mown grass, and he may have lost track of a few.
Once he had most of them on the porch—Jhi was scouring the limo in search of her purse—he flicked on the light and threw open his arms. “Behold!”
Tiny holiday brights lit up the bushes, glimmering on the white ribbons he’d affixed to the railings and posts. It had taken him several tries to get each giant bow to look like the ones in the booklet. The magic solution? Duct tape. That shit fixed everything. He’d also strung icicle lights around the porch roof, but from here, they were difficult to see.
Sally blinked owlishly at the display. “Why are your Christmas lights still up?”
“They’re party decorations.” He pointed at the roof. “Got some up there, too.”
“They’re red and green,” Caroline said.
Not the reaction he’d hoped for. Where were the oohs and ahhs? “Well, those are the colors I had.”
Jhi strutted across the yard, phone to her ear. Of course she didn’t lose her shoes in the grass—Jhi never lost anything. When she reached the steps, she slipped the phone into her purse and smirked. “Very festive, Herman.”
“There you are. I thought I felt a cold breeze.” He wouldn’t allow himself to be disappointed by the lack of squee. Nobody had complained about his party planning so far. The outdoor decor that had taken him an hour, maybe three, to pull off, hardly counted.
He clapped, getting everyone’s attention. “Are you ladies ready for a good time?”
“Yeah!” they responded. Someone whooped.
The approval gave him the warm fuzzies. No wonder Sally did this for a living. Expending all this effort and seeing it pay off, with everyone happy and cheering…
That was when a hand groped his ass.
Startled, Heck lurched sideways into Caroline, knocking her into the porch railing. She oofed in surprise, arms windmilling, and connected with one of the enormous bows. With all the duct tape he’d used, it stuck to her poofy hair, which was half up, half down in fancy curls. It had been all up at the start of the evening, but he thought it was prettier this way.
“I’m such a klutz.” She checked her head, patting and cursing, but duct tape was fierce. “What’s on this, industrial glue?”
“Let me do that.” He pushed her hands away, towering over her to ease her soft curls off the tape. One strand at a time. The other women chatted around them, passing the champagne. He felt Caroline’s bosom nudge his chest but concentrated on tugging her loose.
Letting her go.
Shut up. He had a plan, all right?
With a mental kick to his own ass, he freed the last curl from the tape, stepped back, and handed her the bow.
Caroline looked at the ribbons, looked at Heck, and promptly stuck the decoration back on her head like a wopsided Sunday hat.
There was a moment of silence before everyone laughed and fought over the other bows, tugging them off the railings to wear on their heads or boobs or butts or wherever the duct tape would fasten them.
He watched the women destroy his handiwork and decided it didn’t matter. They were having fun, and the inside was better. Amid the squealing, Heck heard the chime of Caroline’s cell phone.
She unsnapped her purse. “If this is another problem with the caterer, I swear we’re going to eat fast food.” She swiped the phone screen. “Hello?”
Heck watched Caro’s annoyance fade into a blank expression—one that meant she was even more annoyed. “It’s, um, excuse me. I need to take this.”
Jhi raised her eyebrows. “It’s past ten. All the little sugarplums I know are in bed, sound asleep. Whoever could it be?”
Caroline waved them into the house. “You guys go ahead. I won’t be long.”
She stalked to the far edge of the porch, her shoulders hunched to her jaw. Whoever was on the line was not saying something she wanted to hear. If it were wedding stuff, she’d share it with everyone. If it were a problem with her family, she’d share it with him. Maybe Jhi, but definitely him.
Who else would be calling her this late, and why?
Lisa, the owner of the groping hand, nudged him with her shoulder. “Hey, Heckie. What about that good time?”
Heck unlocked the front door and ushered the ladies through, directing them up the stairs into the guest bedroom. “Can you wait here until Caroline is off the phone? I need to set a few things up. Bathroom’s that door. Promise you won’t go anywhere but this room and the john.”
“We promise.” Jhi waved him out of the room, smiling at him in a way he didn’t trust. “Don’t be too long. The champagne may wear off.”
“I won’t.” Heck shut the door behind him and returned to the porch. He didn’t want some oil spill crisis or hippie friend of Caroline’s who needed bail money ruining their night.
But Caro wasn’t on the porch anymore. Heck frowned, listening. Ah. Her voice, slightly raised, came from the old swing set in the side yard, a place where they’d spent many an afternoon playing Peter and Wendy Defeat Captain Hook and Take Over Leadership of the Band of Pirates to Save the World from Environmental Pollution.
He made it to the edge of the porch before he realized who she was talking to.
“No, Dan, there aren’t any guys here besides Heck. What does that matter?”
Apparently it did, because he heard, even from here, her disgusted exhale. “Of course I’m not at a strip club. Do you really think Heck would take us to a strip club?”
She paused to give Dan a chance to respond. Heck’s eyes adjusted until he could make out her curvy form, perched on a swing, and decided he’d best wait here until she finished her conversation. The swing’s chains creaked as she kicked angrily at the ground.
“We’re at his place. You know, where he’s letting us have our reception for free? No, I’m not alone with him. There are eleven people waiting for me to get off the phone.”
So Dan was worried about Heck and Caroline being alone. Ha, Heck had been right the other day. Jealous bastard. If he was pissed Heck had taken his place in the wedding hoopla, he should have gotten off his dress-slacked ass and come to Tallwood himself. Seeing as the damned wedding was his idea and all.
Then again, the fact that Dan had been absent for months and was whining to Caro the night before their wedding gave Heck a great bargaining chip for later.
“What are you talking about? I’m not wasted,” Caroline said. “He’s not wasted, either. Heck doesn’t drink much. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.” Pause. “I didn’t say he was flawless, I just said he wasn’t drunk. Why, have you been drin
king?”
He hadn’t pegged Dan as a drunk-dialer. His bachelor party must not be very eventful if he had time to call Caro and rag on her about Heck.
“I’m tired of you bad-mouthing him,” she said. “He hasn’t done anything to you, and you’ve never liked him.”
Heck was pleased to hear the confirmation of Dan’s loathing. He’d feel rotten if he wanted to beat someone up who liked him. Pencil Neck was probably wearing his bitchface on the other end of the line, sipping a wimpy cocktail with an umbrella while his friends smoked imported cigars.
“Just because he’s a guy doesn’t mean he wants to sleep with me,” Caro said with obvious disgust. “He’s not trying to break us up. He thinks of me as a sister. We settled this when I agreed to marry you.”
Lots of people thought men and women couldn’t be platonic friends. Heck had always disagreed, since his best friend was a woman.
That was before he’d started fantasizing about Caro’s tits. And her kiss. And waking up beside her in the morning. He’d assumed she’d always be part of his life, and his recent trip into the sexual dimension with her was enlightening.
“What do you mean, that’s not what you heard? From who, Dan? You’re never here to talk to anyone about my relationship with Heck.” Caroline huffed. “He’s been my friend for thirty-four years. Of course there’s a special bond.”
Damn straight, Heck thought. Thatta girl. Sic him.
“I accept that, but I already told you I can’t drop him overnight.” Caroline paused again, her voice thickening. “I’ll be in Atlanta, so it won’t matter. Heck and I won’t see much of each other. It will die a natural death.”
Hold up. Caroline intended to dump him? Because of Pencil Neck?
What. The. Fuck?
The swing stopped creaking. Caroline jumped up, and Heck flattened himself in the shadows along the wall so she wouldn’t realize he was eavesdropping. And also so he wouldn’t charge across the grass, grab the cell out of her hand, and tell Pencil Neck to go to hell.
He’d known his relationship with Caro would change after tomorrow, but he hadn’t thought it would disappear if he failed to talk her out of the wedding. She didn’t sound happy about it.
In fact, she hadn’t acted all that thrilled with Dan for a while now. When did Caro ever do things she didn’t want to? When did she let anyone push her around? She was the most stubborn person he knew besides himself.
And she didn’t even realize Dan was right.
Heck was trying to break them up. Moreover, he lusted after her big-time. Which was secondary. The primary thing was that Caro didn’t deserve to be saddled with a neutered pencil pusher who hated her friends.
“You’re being unreasonable.” Caroline stalked deeper into the side yard, jerking a spiky heel out of the soft ground. “Maybe you should be jealous of me and Lisa. She’s bisexual. When we were in college, she offered to prove it.”
Heck raised his eyebrows. Lisa seemed dead-set on getting him in the sack, not any of the women. Probably a good thing. He only knew how to deal with guys who harassed his female friends.
“I don’t care what a little birdie told you. I’m not sleeping with Heck,” Caroline practically yelled. “I’m not even sleeping with you.”
Before Heck could snicker, Caroline continued. “I know, you’ve been under a lot of stress. It doesn’t matter. We’re getting married tomorrow. Why would I do that if I were sleeping with someone else?”
She raised her opposite hand, the one holding the purse, to her face. From the porch, it looked like she was smacking herself in the head with her pocketbook. “Do you…do you want to call it off, Dan? Is that what you and your little birdie are getting at?”
Heck held his breath and sent a swift, heartfelt prayer to God that Dan would say yes. Then Caroline would stay in Tallwood, and Heck would have the greatest reason in the world to drive to Atlanta and beat the shit out of Dan Armitage. Oh, yeah.
Say yes, motherfucker. Say yes.
Except God wasn’t about vengeance. Caroline, after a really long pause, just said, “Seriously?”
Seriously what? This eavesdropping crap would be more satisfying if he could hear both sides of the conversation.
“Not an option.” She drew a shuddery breath so deep he could hear it on the porch. “I’m not moving in with you as a test. We do this now, or we don’t do it at all.”
Caro had lived with a boyfriend while Heck had been married, and it had gone sour. He knew her feelings on that topic. He hoped Caro’s demand would scare Dan off, because Dan’s ditching her would solve all the problems.
Then her best friend Heck who sort of wanted in her pants could comfort her and see what came of it.
“Yes, that’s what it means. I’m not flexible on this.” She sniffled. “I understand. I’m sorry, too.”
Sounded like she was crying. A woman might well cry if she had to cancel a wedding the night before it happened because her fiancé was a douchebag. Heck’s fingernails dug into the peeling paint on the wall as he forced himself not to interrupt.
But then she said something horrible. “I forgive you. I know. Really, it’s okay.” She paused again. “I love you, too.”
She L-worded Dan. Loved him. Shit. If she’d told him that, she was still marrying him.
They were the most repellent words Heck had ever heard in his life.
He would not punch the wall. He would not punch the wall. It would hurt his hand and make a hole, so he would not punch the wall.
“Go sleep it off,” Caro told Dan. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
He’d known Dan was a finicky snob, but he hadn’t realized the guy was a complete limp dick. He hid it well, behind a fake laugh and a half-decent handshake. Some of Heck’s maid of honor research had included quizzes about the groom, and controlling, suspicious behavior was considered a warning sign.
He should get the ladies to take that quiz and share their answers. Then they could assure Caroline, based on Dan’s score, what a puke he was, and she’d come to her damn senses.
Caro stood in the yard, head bowed, as unmoving as a stump. Her arms hung at her sides.
Heck clomped his feet on the porch like he’d just come outside. “Hey, where are you? The natives are getting restless.”
“Over here,” she answered, her voice reedy.
He cleared his throat. “You all right?”
“I’m fantastic.” She stomped toward the porch, shoving her phone into the purse. “I’ve never been better in my life.”
“You don’t sound fantastic.” The porch was three feet off the ground. He held out his hands as she approached. “You sound upset.”
“Pollen’s killing my sinuses this spring. Hadn’t you noticed?” She sniffed and gave him a weird look. “Why are you standing like that?”
“You’ve got on those dumb shoes and your, uh, dress is snug. I thought I’d help you up.”
Moonlight shone on her face as she stared at him, her makeup smudged around her eyes. “There’s this thing called stairs.” But she let him lift her onto the porch and into his arms.
He didn’t let go. Smeary eye makeup was a bad sign, and he wanted to see if she’d say anything about Dan. Preferably bad stuff he could agree with—and use as a springboard. “You seem like you need to vent.”
She glanced down. “It was the caterer. Couldn’t read her assistant’s handwriting on the order form. She double-checked how much ham to slice.”
Caroline never lied to him. But she’d been bullshitting him about the severity of Dan’s jealousy and the future of her and Heck’s friendship. Now this phone call. What else was she lying about?
A backhoe chunked out a pit in Heck’s stomach. He wished he could…squeeze it out of her.
So he hugged her, hard and awkwardly. They didn’t hug a lot.
Caroline squeaked. “Hey, moose, I’m not made of iron.”
“I’m going to miss you,” he said into her hair. Would she lie again? To his face?
“You’ll come home a lot, right?”
She squirmed away from him. “Of course.”
“I’ll come see you, too. Dan have a guest room?”
Her lips trembled as she nodded. “You bet. Let’s go inside.”
So she would lie to his face. That was flat-out wrong. Unhealthy. Boded ill. All that shit.
Now what? He could call her on it while she was raw and get in a fight, or he could coax her to fess up later, when she’d be astounded by his masterpiece.
They had a houseful of women expecting a party. He had a houseful of awesome waiting to wow Caroline. So he’d wait. She’d have the best bachelorette party ever, courtesy of him, and realize what she’d be losing if she let Dan choose her friends.
If she didn’t wise up on her own, he’d have to do something drastic. He just wasn’t sure what. After hearing her and Dan exchange the L-word, his prepared speeches seemed inadequate.
Chapter Five
Caroline forgot about her conversation with Dan. Forgot about how sucker-punched and demented she felt as a result. When Heck led her and the other ladies into the dining room, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
Somehow, Heck had transformed his parents’ shambly farmhouse into bridal hell.
He’d taken cues from Mrs. Helen’s salon. Or a preteen glitter dream. Everywhere she looked there was a bow, or tissue streamers, or silver tinsel, or doily hearts, or sparkly doves. Upon closer inspection, some of the streamers were toilet paper, and the bows matched the one on her head for degree of duct-taped-ness. Well, the ones that weren’t disposable Christmas bows. The hearts and doves…she had no idea.
White taper candles alternated with jars of blossoms in strategic locations. The blossoms, upon closer inspection, weren’t exactly hothouse flowers. Mostly dandelions, daisies, black-eyed Susans, and wilted violets. At least Heck hadn’t raided the daylily beds near the barn, where the reception was supposed to be. Sally would have crapped a cow.
The long farm table was set with twelve place settings, each boasting a ribbon-decorated champagne flute. He’d used his mother’s holiday china, which had pinecones around the edges. Since there weren’t twelve chairs, Heck had dragged in the resin porch furniture.
