The Best Man Problem (Mile High Happiness)

by Mariah Ankenman

  There was a slight pause before his reply came.

  You think I’m amazing in bed?

  Crap! Had she really typed that? She scrolled up a bit—dammit, yes she had. Well, it wasn’t like the man didn’t already know. She was pretty sure she left scratch marks on his back after their night together. Bite marks, too.

  Stop fishing for compliments and get back to your party.

  He sent her a winking kissy face emoji with a heart. Lilly rolled her eyes, even if a part of her giggled in girlish glee. A ridiculous part. She needed to get a handle on this crush thing before it got out of control. Starting anything serious with Lincoln was a bad idea.

  Why? She chided her inner voice for being a dope.

  Lincoln made her feel far too much. He wasn’t just sexy and great in bed. He was also sweet and funny, kind and generous. He was someone she could see herself getting emotionally invested in, and that was bad. She knew all too well what happened when you emotionally invested in someone. They stomped on your heart and crushed your dreams. How many times had she held her mother as the woman sobbed over her latest disaster? How many times had the woman assured her daughter this next guy was different, the one, only to have her heart stomped on all over again?

  No. Lilly knew the only successful relationship was one built on mutual understanding, compromise, and commonality. Sure, she wanted to like her future husband, but all that passionate-emotional-love stuff wouldn’t do. Not for her.

  I don’t have to love him to have sex with him again.

  An interesting thought. One she shouldn’t be entertaining but was. Blame it on the lateness of the evening, the loneliness she’d been feeling recently, or the memory of how exquisite he made her feel in bed. She could blame it on the full moon—that wouldn’t occur for another week—but in the end, it was only a thought. One she knew she couldn’t act on while he was a member of one of her wedding parties.

  So why was she picking up her phone as she lay in bed? Bringing up their text exchange as the darkness of the night surrounded her? Sending him a text well after midnight when any normal person would be sleeping soundly?

  You get home safe?

  There. She was simply checking on him. Making sure he and the others got home safe. She waited, the glow of the tiny screen illuminating nothing but her hand in the dark room.

  Home safe and sound with my stereo at full blast.

  What an odd tidbit to include. Had they brought the party home to Lincoln’s place? She really shouldn’t ask. He’d made it home safe. That’s all she texted to say. But…

  Still partying?

  No. I live below Kenneth and Marie, and let’s just say the happy couple is very happy and very loud.

  She laughed. Poor Lincoln. She, Mo, and Pru made a pact that all nookie would be held at the other party’s house or when roommates were not around.

  Poor you. Can I do anything to distract you?

  You can tell me what you’re wearing.

  She hesitated, working through a checklist in her mind. She couldn’t get involved with Lincoln, not while he was technically part of her clientele. But then again, she had gotten involved with him. On the other hand, she hadn’t known he was the best man of her current wedding, so no one could fault her, and Marie seemed more than okay with her and Lincoln being together…ugh! Her head was hurting trying to sort all this out.

  Bottom line, she couldn’t be physically involved with him while facilitating this wedding. But technically, there was no physicality in what they were currently doing. A few words on a screen wasn’t physical. Heck, it wasn’t even vocal. It was simply…words.

  I’m kidding, Lilly.

  She bit her lip, mind made up as she hurried to text him back before he turned off his phone and went to bed.

  A nightshirt and panties.

  There was a pause before those three tiny dots appeared, followed by the words, What color panties?

  She laughed. Such a guy. She quickly typed back.

  Black boy shorts. What are you wearing?

  Don’t you remember? I sleep in the buff.

  She did remember that, but she hadn’t realized it was an everyday occurrence for him. Another text from Lincoln appeared.

  I wish I was there with you.

  She licked her lips, boldness rising with each word she typed out.

  What would you do?

  First I’d kiss you until you couldn’t breathe.

  She was having a hard time with that already.

  Then I’d slowly strip your nightshirt off and work my way down to your amazing breasts. Giving each one the worship it deserves with my mouth.

  Her nipples tightened, memories of Lincoln doing just that during their night together filling her mind. She remembered how soft his mouth was, the sharp sting of the tiny love bites he gave, the heavy ache that settled between her legs. It was there now, just from a few words and a memory.

  Another line of text appeared.

  I’d slowly work my way down your body, peeling those sexy panties off you so I could place my mouth on the heaven between your legs and taste your sweetness again.

  A moan left her lips as she slipped her hand into her panties, stroking herself, wishing it was Lincoln there instead of her own hand.

  Are you touching yourself, sweetheart?

  One hand tending to her business, she texted with a single thumb. A bit awkward, but she managed.

  Yes.

  Good. The dots reappeared for a moment before more words came through. Imagine it’s me, touching you, pleasing you, filling you.

  She didn’t have to imagine. She remembered. In vivid detail. He might think she’d forgotten or shrugged off that night, but it was always there in the back of her mind, screaming at her for more. More Lincoln.

  Touch yourself, Lincoln, she typed out. Pretend it’s me wrapped around your cock.

  With pleasure.

  She continued to stroke herself, imagining it was Lincoln quickening her breath, raising her heartbeat. Another line of text appeared.

  Damn, sweetheart, you set me off even when I can’t see or hear you. Just the thought of you, the memory has me close to exploding.

  Fair enough. She was so close to the edge right now, all she had to do was imagine his sexy smile and she’d be done. Quickening her strokes, she texted back.

  Do it. Come with me, Lincoln.

  Yes, Lilly.

  With those simple two words, an affirmation and her name, Lilly cried out, her body tightening with her release, pleasure exploding from deep within as she lay in bed alone but not truly alone. The words of the man she couldn’t get out of her mind flying from his small screen to hers. A part of him with her, though they were halfway across the city.

  I have a confession, she texted. I’ve never sexted before.

  She waited, a small amount of embarrassment now filling her at the brazenness of the act. His reply sent a whoosh of relief through her.

  Neither have I, but I gotta say, it was hot as hell. You’re hot as hell.

  She laughed, deciding not to worry about what had just happened. It was just phone sex. Not even that, really. Text sex. That didn’t break her rule. Everything was fine.

  Thank you. Right back at you.

  He sent her a winking emoji followed by the heart-eyes face. With a shake of her head, she decided to send the exact same combo back.

  Good night, Lincoln.

  Good night, Lilly.

  Placing her phone on the nightstand, she settled against her pillow, sleep coming easy now that her body was sated. Tomorrow she might see deeper consequences to what occurred tonight, but for now she was going to slip off to sleep and enjoy the sweet dreams of a man who made her laugh, smile, and lose herself with nothing but a few typed words.

  Chapter Twelve

  The sharp ring
of her cell phone woke Lilly from one of the best night’s sleeps she’d had in weeks. In fact, the last time she’d slept this soundly was the first night she and Lincoln had sex.

  We didn’t have sex. We sexted. Big difference.

  In person or through typed message, it didn’t seem to matter. Apparently, just imagining making love to the man had her feeling more rested than a full eight hours ever did.

  No. Not making love. Having sex. Big difference, Lilly Walsh.

  And she’d do well to remember it. Childish notions of true love and soulmates were best left to people who believe in that crap. Like Mo.

  Reaching out to her nightstand, she slapped her hand around until it encountered her phone. Normally, she was a morning person, but she had stayed up a bit later than usual last night. The reason for her rare night-owl behavior made her lips curl up into a satisfied grin. Maybe it was Lincoln calling to start the morning off with a little upgrade to phone sex. She could handle that. Still not in person; technically, still not breaking her rule.

  The logic had fault in it somewhere, but she’d reason it out after she woke up more.

  She glanced at the screen, and all her hopes of morning nookie vanished. Her libido took a crashing dive into nonexistence as she accepted the call and put the phone to her ear.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  Speaking of people who believed in all that soul mate nonsense.

  “Lilly, baby, you didn’t call me back.”

  She winced, remembering the message Mo had given her last week. “Right, sorry, Mom. I’ve been…busy.”

  Not true. She’d simply forgotten her mother was getting married. Again. Or blocked it out. Possibly a bit of both.

  “Not too busy to help your mother plan her wedding to her one true love, I hope.”

  Considering the woman had had several “one true loves” over the course of her lifetime, Lilly wondered how her mother managed to find time for anything else. She certainly hadn’t found time for her daughter.

  Not entirely fair. Her mother hadn’t been neglectful or abusive, she’d just been…very occupied with her own life. Lilly always had food to eat and clothes to wear, but there was never any help with homework. No parent at her school events to cheer her on. No one to talk to about friend drama, struggles with insecurities, boy troubles.

  Though spending her childhood watching her mother go through men like tissues, she’d never been all that big on dating anyway.

  “Aren’t you living in Napa right now?” Her mother’s location always changed with her latest man.

  “Yes, but Stavros wants a Rocky Mountain destination wedding.” Her mother’s light laughter rang in her ear. “The man likes to pretend he’s a Wild West cowboy. We were thinking something in the fall, when the leaves turn those brilliant gold and ruby colors. When I told him my daughter puts together little weddings in Colorado, he insisted we hire you.”

  She didn’t “put together little weddings.” She ran a very successful wedding planning business with two other competent and professional women. To hear her mom tell it, they were little girls running around playing dress up in their mothers’ wedding gowns. You’d think a woman who’d had multiple weddings over the years would understand how much work went into planning one.

  “He’s such a sweet man,” her mother continued. “He treats me like a princess.”

  So did all the others, right before things went to hell and they up and left.

  “That’s great, Mom.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want her mother to be happy; she just wished the woman wouldn’t base all her happiness on the love of someone else. Love, passion, romance—they all fizzled out in the end. For most people. There were the lucky few who somehow stumbled upon that other human who completed them in every way.

  “How about it, baby? Do you think you can help create your mother’s perfect day?”

  She’d done it twice before. No reason she couldn’t do it again. All she had to do was smile and nod and listen to her mother profess her undying love yet again. So what if every one of her mother’s marriages pushed her further down into disillusionment? At least her mom was happy. That young girl, the one who spent hours wiping the tears from her mother’s face after yet another man left her heartbroken, still lived inside Lilly. And that part of her would do whatever it took to see her mother smile, even if she knew it likely wouldn’t last.

  Talk about mommy issues.

  “Let me talk to Pru and Mo, but I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “Wonderful! Stavros will be so pleased. I’ll call you later with more details. Love you, Lilly. Bye, baby!”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  But her mother hung up before she’d even finished the sentiment. Typical.

  Her mother wasn’t cruel, but the woman did tend to be a bit self-absorbed. She hadn’t even asked how Lilly was. Not that she would have shared much with her mother. They didn’t have that kind of relationship. They had more than some people did, and for that Lilly assured herself she was grateful. And on the plus side, she’d get to spend a little quality time with her mother when she came out for the wedding.

  If you counted dress fittings and rehearsals as quality time.

  A tiny sliver of sunlight peeked in through the long black curtains covering her window. The early-morning sounds of light traffic, barking dogs, and the faint peals of sirens in the distance filtered into her quiet room. No rest on the weekends in the city. Denver woke every day, a hub of activity, a rush of people off to enjoy the sights and pleasures of the city or escape into the peaceful, serene nature of the mountains. Or, for the non-nine-to-fivers, off to work.

  Normally, her weekends were filled with the hectic rush of one or two weddings, but not this weekend. The only wedding they had in the next few weeks was Marie and Kenneth’s. Still, Lilly did not do well with idle time, so she’d probably grab her calendar and some files and fit in a little work. They had plenty of upcoming weddings in the spring she could start on. Prep work to make the rush of April through June easier on them all. And no doubt her mother would be calling her much more often now that she’d agreed to help with the wedding. The woman had a single-minded focus she’d passed on to her daughter. But where Lilly used it for work, her mother used it for men.

  She had started to rise from her bed when her phone rang again. Speaking of single-minded focus…

  She pressed the phone to her ear with a sigh. “Mom, I told you I need to talk to Mo and Pru first—”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but ‘mom’ has never been one of them.”

  Lilly pulled the phone away from her ear at the deep voice, which sounded in no way like her soft-spoken mother. Crap! She’d answered without checking the caller. She’d simply assumed it was her mother calling back with more wedding requests.

  She shoved Mo’s voice out of her head, her roommate’s oft-repeated immature joke playing in her brain at her embarrassing mistake.

  “Oh, um, hello, Lincoln. I’m sorry; I was just talking to my mother and I thought she was calling back.”

  He chuckled, the warm rumbling sound causing a maelstrom of tingling awareness between her thighs.

  “Nope. Just me, checking in to see how your morning is going, but now I’m wondering what you could possibly need to talk to your business partners about regarding your mother.”

  Still a little frazzled, her brain disconnected from her mouth, and she spewed out words without even thinking. “She’s getting married again.”

  “Again?”

  She heard no censure in his tone, no judgment. Merely simple curiosity. Perhaps that was why she chose to open up and discuss her personal life, something she rarely did with anyone. Or maybe it was because she hadn’t had coffee yet and her brain wasn’t fully awake. Or it could have something to do with this intense connection she and Lincol
n had, one that started out physical and was quickly turning far too emotional for her comfort.

  She was going with the coffee thing.

  “Yes. This is her fourth—no, wait, her fifth marriage. Fourth wedding. I planned the last two, and she and her current fiancé would like me to plan this one as well.”

  “She asked you, her daughter, to plan her wedding?”

  She could hear the shock in his voice, and, okay, maybe it was a bit unique to plan her own mother’s wedding, but it was her profession.

  “It’s my job, Lincoln. I plan weddings.”

  “Yeah, for strangers. Clients. People who pay you.”

  Her mother would pay her. In fact, the one thing her mother did do was make sure her daughter was well compensated for her work. In her own stunted way, her mother overpaying Lilly was the woman’s way of showing love. Vanessa Walsh could say the words all day long, but words only went so far. Actions spoke much louder. Sadly, her mother could only devote so much time to another person, and it was always saved for her latest love.

  Never her daughter.

  Money was nice, but Lilly could make her own money. She wanted time with her mom.

  “Is her fiancé nice?”

  “I have no idea. Much like my father, he’s someone I’ve never met, but if he’s anything like the last four of my mother’s husbands, he’ll be nice right up until he gets bored or things get too hard, then he’ll hightail it out of town.”

  Did that sound a little cynical? She tried to root for her mother’s happiness, she really did, but it was hard to believe in her mother’s heart when the damn thing was so wishy-washy.

  “I’m sorry, Lilly.”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  His voice was low and soothing as it came over the line. “I think it is.”

  He was wrong. She’d stopped feeling sorry for herself long ago. As a child, she used to imagine her father was a spy, deep undercover. He left because there were dangerous mobsters after him and he had to protect her and her mother by disappearing. She used to stare out of her bedroom window in their tiny two-bedroom apartment and dream about him finally coming home, having put the bad guys in jail. Her mother could ditch her latest guy because Daddy was back! They’d be a family again and all live happily ever after.