by Amy Daws
Dean: Friday, but I have the rehearsal dinner that night.
Me: Oh, is that something I should go to?
Dean: Nah, I won’t bore you with that.
Me: I don’t mind. Your friends are fun.
Dean: It’s cool. I’ll see you at the wedding at 5, okay? You’ll have to drive yourself because they want to do bridal party pictures before the ceremony.
Me: Oh…okay.
Dean: See you Saturday.
I step out of the dressing room and hit Rachael with a look. “It doesn’t seem like he cares what I wear.”
“Say what?” Rachael scoffs and takes a sip of her champagne from her spot on the beige chaise lounge by the dressing rooms. “That boy is Mr. Fashion Forward. I would have thought he’d want you to match his tux at the very least.”
“I guess not.” I sigh and flop down beside her. “His texts were weird too…it feels like something’s up.”
“What would be up?”
“I don’t know. But he said he’s going out of town for a few days and won’t see me until the wedding. Isn’t that weird when our fake-dating thing is supposed to be ending that day? It feels like he’s over it.” My heart sinks, and I turn my wide eyes to Rachael. “God, what if he’s over it? What if he’s over me? What if I snored in my sleep Saturday night, and he’s completely disgusted by me now?”
“Oh my God, don’t be a dramatic Karen,” Rachael replies, waving me off like a fly. “You slept with him in Aspen, and he came back for more snoring. He’s just busy. Plus, you said the sex Saturday night was the best you’ve had. You said it was better than a soufflé.”
“It was for me…maybe it wasn’t for him.”
“That’s not how sex works.” She pins me with her chocolatey brown gaze. “You get out what you put into it, and if you said it was better than a soufflé, then it was just as sweet for him, honey. He’s probably genuinely busy. It was a little crazy that you two were seeing each other every night last week. Even real couples don’t do that.”
“It just…felt right.” My brow furrows as an embarrassing thought crosses my mind. “And this is going to sound crazy, but…I miss him.”
Rachael’s lips part as she inspects my face like she’s counting my pores. “Do you have feelings for him, Norah?”
“Obviously,” I huff defensively and cross my arms over my chest.
“I mean more than sexual. More than friendship.” She grabs my arm so I’m forced to look at her. “Has Miss All Work and No Play finally cracked?”
“I don’t know, okay?” I exclaim and stand to get some space between Rachael and me. It’s like she’s in my mind, and I don’t know what my mind is thinking, and it’s all a bit overwhelming. “I can’t figure out what’s going on with me. How do I even know what I’m feeling? What are feelings? Feelings are stupid. I do not like feelings. How does one even interpret feelings?”
Rachael sets her champagne flute down and follows me to the three-way mirror. “Okay, relax…just tell me this: You said you missed him. Do you think you miss him like you’d miss a salty chip? Or miss him like a piece of really good chocolate?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, completely confused by her thought process.
“Well, if you miss him like a salty snack, it’s a quick fix. One pretzel nugget or Cheez-It and you’re satisfied. But if someone told you that you could never eat sweets again…how would you feel?”
“Devastated.”
She pins me with a look, and it hits me.
“Oh my God, I have real feelings for Dean!” I twirl and hold my hands up like the room is closing in on me. “How did I get real feelings for Dean? How did he become a sweet to me?”
“I don’t know, girl.” Rachael laughs knowingly. “White boys aren’t my type.”
“Especially Dean,” I exclaim and pin her with a look. “He’s arrogant and stubborn and pushy. He thinks he knows everything. I have goals and a plan. I don’t want a real boyfriend. How on earth did this happen?”
Rachael crosses her arms and hits me with a smug grin. “You stopped working for once and let yourself have some fun.”
“Well, that was stupid,” I reply with a huff. “I immediately regret that decision.”
“No, you don’t,” Rachael says and points her finger at me. “You’ve been happier in the bakery these past couple of weeks then you have been in ages.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Yes, you have. You’re coming up with new recipes, you’re not micromanaging the Denver construction anymore. You didn’t lose your shit on Zander when you saw the dumpster mess last Friday, and it was his turn to clean up back there. You just cheerily picked it up yourself…and you hummed while you did it.”
“I don’t remember humming.”
“There was definite humming,” she volleys back. “And let me tell you, classic power ballads hummed loudly without a backup band are not nearly as impressive even with those back-alley acoustics.”
“Oh my God, this is terrible.” I stomp over to my dressing room, throw back the curtain, and sit down on the bench. “This is not what Dean signed up for. He’s not into me like that. If he knows I have real feelings, he’s going to lose his mind. What am I going to do?”
“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.” Rachael walks over to squat in front of me and places her hands on my thighs. “You’re going to look hot as hell for that wedding.”
I roll my eyes and hear her growl as she squeezes my legs to make me look at her. “You’re going to look hot at that wedding, and you’re going to go there and have fun. Don’t say anything to Dean about your feelings. Just…remind him why you two couldn’t stay apart for an entire week. Be yourself! You can be kind of adorable when you’re not bossing everyone around.”
My lips curl with disgust. “Thank you, I think?”
“You’re welcome,” she chirps back with a smirk. “Seriously, just go enjoy the night. Have fun and see how he is with you. Weddings are a great place for couples to evaluate their relationship. If you get good vibes from him, you’ll know when to talk about these sugary-sweet feelings you’ve developed.”
I nod as I take in those relatively easy instructions. “I think I can handle that.”
Rachael stands up and places her hands on her hips. “Now please God, take that basic dress off. We need to find you a real dress. If you only have one more night with this man, it needs to be the best night of your life.” My smile is wobbly as she closes the curtain and calls out to the attendant who helped us earlier.
One more night with Dean doesn’t feel like it could be enough. But if he’s pulling away, I’m not sure I have much choice in the matter. I have to hope I can prove to him I’m more than a fake girlfriend. That what we have is far from fake.
I can’t help but laugh as Kate attempts to stuff her layers upon layers of tulle wedding dress through the hoop of a tire swing.
“Sam, Dean…little help here,” Miles pleads as he awkwardly attempts to shove his fiancée through the ring of rubber.
Sam and I give each other a wary look before going over to help manhandle the bride. The tire swing is hanging from a dilapidated rope on a tree in a wooded area near where the ceremony is set to start soon. The ceremony and the reception are both at this outdoor wedding venue tucked inside Boulder Canyon. It’s rustic with scenic mountain views that Kate couldn’t care less about because…there’s a tire swing in our midst.
“I hope someone is recording this,” Miles’s sister, Maggie, deadpans to Lynsey, and the two burst into giggles.
“The picture will be worth it,” Kate bellows just as I get hold of the back of her dress and tug it through the hole. “I’m in!” She drops her strappy-heeled feet into the grass and twirls herself to the photographer with a satisfied sigh. “Okay…Miles…give the man your sexy smolder.”
“I can’t just smolder on demand,” Miles mumbles with a pout while moving to stand behind Kate.
Kate huffs out a noise and
tips her head up. “Fine, give me a kiss then.”
The two of them press their lips together while the rest of us stand back and let the photographer do his thing. We’ve been taking pictures out in the woods for nearly three hours now, and I have no idea how Kate isn’t exhausted.
She looks beautiful, though. I was surprised to see she went with a traditional wedding dress—big, poofy skirt and all. Her red hair is pinned up on top of her head, and she looks like a Disney princess. For the romance author who writes erotic novels in a tire shop, I expected something very different.
Although, if you look at the bridal party, I guess that’s Kate’s version of flair. We’re all a mismatch, wearing different dresses and suits in various fall colors. The groom looks sharp in his fitted navy-blue tux with a black bow tie while his best man, Sam, is wearing a tan trim suit with a blue Windsor. Miles’s sister, Maggie, is in a flowy burgundy dress, and I ended up finding a dark plum-colored velvet tux jacket I paired with a slim black tie and trousers.
Lynsey sidles up next to me in her olive-green bridesmaid dress and nudges my shoulder. “You having fun, Dean?”
“Oh yeah, a blast. I love weird wedding pictures.” I shoot Lynsey a playful wink.
She smiles as we watch the two for a moment. “They look happy.”
“That they do,” I reply, tilting my head as Miles begins to push Kate in the swing.
“I’m really happy you’re with Norah,” Lynsey says, turning her focus back to me.
“Oh?” I remove my glasses to clean them with my pocket square, trying to play it cool.
Lynsey tsks softly. “Yeah, I worried that today would be hard for you after you professed your feelings to Kate not that long ago.”
“Um, it was like two years ago,” I correct, feeling my shoulders tense with discomfort. “And I think we all knew I wasn’t serious. I dated you too, if you recall. Boundary issues, I think you like to say I have?”
Lynsey shrugs and hits me with a somber expression. “I know…but the truth is, I worried that you were hooking up with all those random girls this past year because you were still hung up on Kate or maybe too scared to put yourself out there again. I mean, to be best friends with two girls who couldn’t love you the way you wanted to be loved has to mess with a guy’s head.”
“What the hell are you babbling about?” My entire body tenses at her pointed words. I put my glasses back on and shoot her a murderous look. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Lynsey. I’m not paying for a session here.”
“Chill out.” She holds her hands up. “I’m just saying I’m glad you put yourself out there with Norah. She’s awesome.”
“I know she’s awesome.” I clench my jaw, annoyance prickling my spine.
She touches my arm and adds, “And I totally saw it coming. The way you talked about Norah when I was pregnant with Julianna…I could tell there were real feelings there beneath all that macho man stuff you like to project. I mean…you quit going to your co-working office down the street to spend more time in her bakery. And you waited and watched for just the right moment to ask her out. Ugh! If that’s not an adorable meet-cute, I don’t know what is.”
I cut her an exasperated look. “Lynsey…seriously.”
“What?”
“Why are we talking about me right now?”
She shrugs and smiles. “This was just a roundabout way of me telling you that I’m really happy for you.”
“Okay, great,” I reply, wishing I had a beer in my hand right now.
“Is Norah here yet?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“You haven’t heard from her? You guys haven’t been texting today?”
“No, why would we be texting?” I ask, my brows furrowed.
“Because you’re in a relationship, and that’s what people in a relationship do. They check in on each other. I’ve texted Josh twenty times in the last hour.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s because he’s chasing around the flower girl, and you’re worried she’s going to ruin her dress.”
“She just needs to make it down the aisle and then I don’t care what she does to that dress.” Lynsey adjusts her own dress and looks behind us. “I hope Josh is okay with her by himself. There’s a lot of nature out here for Jules to make a mess in.”
Just then the event organizer calls over to us. “Would someone please get the bride out of that tire swing? It’s time for you all to take your places.”
The extraction process goes a lot easier, and everyone sighs with relief to see there are no tire smudges on Kate’s white dress. The organizer whisks Kate down a hidden path to avoid the guests while the rest of us make our way to where everyone is being seated.
As I follow the group, I nearly trip mid-stride when I see Norah delicately walking in her strappy heels over to the white chairs all lined up at the outdoor altar.
My eyes do a double take because she’s…breathtaking.
She’s wearing a slim black dress that hits below her knees with a slit up to the middle of her thigh. The bodice is a low-cut V-neck with scalloped lace trim over her flesh. Is that part of the dress or some of her sexy lingerie peeking out of the top? I shake that thought away before it gets out of control.
Her blond hair is curled softly, barely brushing her collarbone, and a small section is pinned back by a black feather, showing off her fresh and dewy face. Natural, just like her.
Fucking hell, tonight is going to be harder than I thought.
“Oh my God, is that Norah?” Lynsey gasps from beside me.
I clear my throat and manage a nod because I can’t form any coherent words right now. My heart is in my throat, and my dick is threatening to burst through my slacks just before I have to walk down the aisle. I can’t tear my gaze away from her as she checks in with Kate’s brother. He loops his arm in hers and ushers her to a seat on the bride’s side.
We make our way over to where Norah was, and I swear I can smell her scent. Is that possible? We’re outside. Surely her scent wouldn’t linger here. Does the human brain have some sort of memory trigger where you can access someone’s scent when you’re stupidly desperate for it?
Because I am stupidly desperate for it. And desperate for her.
I’ve missed Norah this week. I’ve missed her more than I’ve ever missed any human in my entire life. I’ve never missed my parents, they pretty much suck. If I don’t see or hear from them, that’s a good thing. I’ve missed Kate and Lynsey lately since they’ve been busy with their own lives, but I prefer them in small doses, so it hasn’t been as intense of a feeling.
But Norah…I have been aching for her all damn week. I would close my eyes and picture her face without even trying. Then at my house all I could do was picture her next to me, in my bed, naked on my beanbag chair. Her cake-covered face in my kitchen. My entire townhouse was hammering me with annoying memories of the seriously short time we spent together. And that’s the kicker.
It’s only been a couple of weeks. Who misses someone they’ve only been with for a couple of weeks? What the fuck is wrong with me that I had to force myself to hide from her because I couldn’t stop thinking about her? I hated lying to her about being out of town but it was survival mode. I had to find some space to get control of myself and make our last night as a fake couple somewhat bearable.
However, seeing her right now, in that little black dress with those big blue eyes…my control is fleeting.
The sun is beginning to set as Dean walks with Miles’s sister down the aisle to an acoustic guitar playing “Baby I Love Your Way” by Peter Frampton. As great as the guitar sounds and as pretty as Maggie is with her dark hair and light blue eyes, I can’t tear my eyes from Dean.
That man can wear a suit.
A nearly black-purple velvet tuxedo jacket is not something many men can pull off…but Dean does it and does it well. He’s trimmed his beard down to just the whiskers again, and his dark-rimmed glasses complete his unique style. He’s seriously the most handsome m
an here today. Maybe the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe it’s been a week since I’ve seen him. It feels like longer and shorter all at the same time.
He takes his place next to Lynsey as Josh lowers Julianna down to the ground to begin her own march as the flower girl. She toddles down a white-lined aisle in a fluffy flower-girl dress. Her short brown hair is curled and a little wild as she walks and trips several times, forgetting all about the autumn leaves she’s supposed to be dropping. She finally reaches her mommy and squeals with delight as Lynsey bends over to scoop her up.
Julianna’s smile disappears when she notices Dean standing beside them. She frowns at his jacket, and her chubby little finger reaches out to touch the alluring texture. Dean smiles fondly at her and Lynsey, and when he reaches up and gives her his finger to squeeze, I feel something strange clench in my body as a little knot forms in my throat.
The music changes, and the minister tells everyone to rise as Kate makes her way down the aisle. Tears run freely down her cheeks, and I turn to see Miles’s reaction to his bride-to-be. Miles looks stoic and happy, and when I shift my smiling eyes to Dean, I inhale sharply.
I assumed his eyes would be fixed on his best friend walking down the aisle, but they’re not. They are locked on mine, and the intense cocoa smoldering behind his dark-rimmed glasses causes my entire body to flush.
Dean has watched me in the bakery many times before. He’s made my dreaded lip sweat creep up without trying. It’s why I had to make a rule for him not to look at me too much when we started this fake-dating situation in the first place.
But this isn’t just him watching me.
He’s…consuming me.
And the look in his eyes is not causing lip sweat. It’s causing all the blood in my veins to boil with need.
I force myself to look away when Kate meets Miles, and the two take each other’s hands for the ceremony to start. They look so perfect up there…his dark to her bright. I didn’t spend a lot of time with the two of them, but after watching them in Aspen and here, it’s clear how much they love each other.