“Erin?” My brother’s ears perk up. “You mean Paige’s friend Erin? The one with the nice—”
I skewer him with a look and his mouth clamps shut. Two and half years older than me, Adam is the second youngest and the biggest pain in my ass.
He clears his throat and says, “I was going to say the one with the nice eyes.”
Sure you were, asshole.
He was going to say the one with the nice rack because that’s what he said when he saw a picture of her on Facebook two years ago. It was the one of her sunbathing by her pool in that green bikini. It’s my favorite—the picture and the bikini.
“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” I ask sarcastically. He does. Her name is Faith. Or Hope. Anyway, it’s one of those names. They’ve only been going out a few months, but he’s already brought her to two Sunday dinners. He has a habit of jumping headfirst into relationships and bailing not long afterward. I give the current one another month.
Adam holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just asking,” he says, laughing.
“Why haven’t I met her parents?” My mom asks the question as if it’s a right denied her.
Dear God. “Because there hasn’t been a need to.” And can I tell you how much I’m looking forward to that, because that day will come soon enough.
She sniffs and looks at my dad, who is sitting opposite her at the head of the table. “Why am I always the last to know when my sons get girlfriends?”
Christ. Here we go.
“Mom, we just started going out.”
“I didn’t know,” Adam pipes in.
“They’ll tell us when they’re ready,” my dad says, briefly looking up from his plate before he resumes eating.
He has the right idea. Stay out of it.
“I suppose that means she isn’t interested in the job.”
Shit! Ms. Templeton flew back to New York last week.
I dart a quick look at my mom. I totally forgot about the LA job. No, seriously I did. I kept meaning to tell Erin about it but it always seemed to slip my mind. And now it’s too late. Ms Templeton said they were looking to fill the position right away.
Chances are Erin wouldn’t have been interested in the job anyway, not when things are so good for her right here. She loves her new position and from what she’s told me, her editor loves her work, and things between us have never been better. Plus, she said she couldn’t leave Paige and Bree. Georgia is home. It’s where she belongs.
“Does Carly know?” my mom asks, assuming by my silence that I’ve talked about it with Erin. I don’t correct her.
“I think Erin may have left her a message.” The good thing about this kind of lie is that messages can always be lost or accidentally erased.
My mom makes a wistful sound. “Such a shame Carly wasn’t in town longer. She was hoping to see you again.”
“Maybe next time.” Next year would be good. Or the year after.
“Yes, next time. Now more importantly, which Sunday would you like to bring Erin by?”
Erin
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that planning a wedding was this much work?” Paige drops wearily onto the couch beside me, her legs stretched out in front of her.
“You should talk to my sister. She ran herself ragged and that was with a wedding planner.”
Paige shifts her gaze to a sleeping Bree, whom I’m holding in my arms. The poor kid is tuckered out from a day of play and shopping. “Do you want me to take her?”
I shake my head and brush a kiss against her forehead. “I’ll put her down in a few minutes.” Lately, I’ve been spending so much time with Josh, I haven’t had a chance to see my goddaughter. Or Paige. But we talk on phone almost every day. Today is one of the few times I’ve been able to get out of the office by five and have no plans with Josh.
“Are you one hundred percent sure you don’t want the wedding planner’s number?” This isn’t the first I’ve offered to put her in touch with the woman who did my sister’s wedding and it probably won’t be the last.
With her hand over her mouth, Paige stifles a yawn. “No, that would just be another expense and I won’t let Diane, Dan or Mitch’s grandparents spend another dime on this wedding.”
“I don’t understand why not. They’ve got more than enough money and they’re happy to spend it on you and Mitch.” My best friend has this thing about accepting money she hasn’t earned. And that also applies to her own mother, who had to badger Paige into accepting the flowers for the wedding.
“Erin, are you forgetting his grandparents bought us this house?” She gestures around the family room. “And that they paid for most of the furniture.”
“Well are you forgetting that your fiancé’s grandparents are worth like a billion dollars?” For goodness sakes, our home is a Tolston Home Original because only the best for Stanley and Margaret Bancroft. I can’t even imagine how much my parents paid to have it built. “Your in-laws-to-be aren’t strapped for cash and when you have that kind of money, you want to take care of the people you love.”
My parents thought nothing of dropping one hundred grand on my sister’s wedding or sixty grand on a car for me, but that was more about guilt than love.
“The hardest part is behind me now,” Paige says, waving off the suggestion. “Everything is booked, the deposits all paid.”
Smiling, I gently brush Bree’s hair off her brow. Sometimes Paige can be so naive. “Actually, that’s the easy part. The hardest part is making sure it goes off without a hitch. Stuff like getting the flowers to the church on time and that they send the right centerpieces for the tables at the reception.”
“Between Diane, my mom, me, you and Mitch, we’ll manage.”
I snort a laugh. “Good luck with getting Mitch to do anything besides show up in his tux with the ring on time.” God help him and Josh if they forget the ring.
Paige laughs because she knows I’m right.
“Speaking of wedding, I want to float an idea by you.” I still haven’t told her about the co-ed weekend Josh and I are planning—but mostly me. Although I’m sure she’s going to love it.
“Okay, but let me get Bree to bed first.” She makes a move to get up.
“No, you stay. I’ll do it.”
“You sure?” she asks while her sleepy eyes shout thank you.
I rise slowly to my feet. “Relax, mommy, Auntie Erin’s got this.”
Soft laughter trails in my wake as I make my way upstairs to Bree’s room, which is an explosion of pale pink and yellow. A girly room for a girly girl. She’s a little slip of a thing who sleeps like the dead and doesn’t wake up when I lower her onto her pink and white bed and cover her with the Wonder Woman comforter.
I brush one last kiss over her forehead before turning on the nightlight and switching off the main one.
“Did I miss her?”
Mitch’s voice has me spinning around with a start, my palm pressed firmly against my chest to prevent my heart from leaping out.
“You scared the crap out of me.” My rebuke is as quiet as his question, both of us mindful of his sleeping daughter.
Chuckling softly, he peers over my shoulder and into the dimly lit room. “Sorry about that. I was hoping to catch her before she fell asleep.”
Mitch is Paige’s husband, and I consider him a good friend—when he isn’t making a complete dick of himself, that is. But every once in a while, like right now, I’m reminded just how good looking he is. It must have something to do with seeing him in a suit when I’m used to seeing him in jeans and a t-shirt.
“Sorry, daddy, your baby girl is already in la-la land.”
While a lot of fathers prefer arriving home just in time to catch five minutes of “quality” time with their kids—like my father—Mitch isn’t one of them. He tries to spend as much time with Bree as he can when he comes home from work.
Mitch walks over to Bree’s bedside, bends over and kisses her softly on a flushed, round cheek. Seconds later, he rejoin
s me at the door. In silence, we head toward the stairs.
“I’m glad I caught you alone.”
Mitch’s statement draws me to a halt in front of one of the spare rooms. Curious, I look up at him. “What’s up?”
“About the bachelor and bachelorette parties, Josh mentioned that you two plan to do something together. A coed weekend thing.”
“Do you have a problem with it?” I finally narrowed it down to two places in northern Georgia and I planned to tell Paige about it tonight. Get her opinion.
“No, not at all,” he hurries to reassure me. “It’s just that my grandparents are insisting on paying for the whole thing.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you serious?”
Mitch’s self-conscious shrug is the most adorable I’ve ever seen him. It’s obvious he’s still getting used to being the son and grandson of millionaires. “They said it’s their treat, and I’m not gonna fight them on it because my two buddies from work are a little tight on cash. I doubt they could afford to go otherwise.”
And just like that, a weight is lifted off my shoulders. I’d been doing everything within my power to keep the per person cost under one grand by playing with the menu and cutting out some of what I call the non-essentials, like the full spa treatment.
I throw my arms around his neck and give him a huge hug. “Oh my God, Mitch, I don’t know what to say.” It doesn’t matter that they can afford to be generous, they don’t have to spend their money on their grandson’s friends, most of whom can more than afford to pay for the weekend themselves. “But I insist on paying for mine myself. It was my idea that drove up the cost.”
Mitch is shaking his head before I finish talking. “Nope. It’s my grandparents’ treat. They want to do this,” he insists. “It’s called making up for lost time.”
What choice do I have but to accept their incredibly generous offer? “Okay,” I concede. I’ll need to pick up a nice thank you card tomorrow to send them.
“Not a word to Paige though. You know how she is about them giving us stuff. She’ll probably want to pay for the whole thing herself.”
I give a huff. She probably would at that. “I’d pay for it myself before I’d let her do that,” I mutter dryly.
The look Mitch sends me says he won’t be having any of that either.
“Fine, I’ll get Josh to pay for it,” I say, sending him an impish smile.
At the mention of his friend, Mitch turns serious. “Speaking of Josh.”
My shoulders reflexively tense. I’m not sure why because things between us couldn’t be better.
Then why is your body bracing itself for something bad?
I shake off the uncertainty and ask brightly, “What about Josh?”
Mitch shifts on his feet, appearing a little uneasy. “I’ve never seen him like this.” He pauses and shakes his head, his smile rueful. “Well, there was the summer you guys hooked up. He was happy for a while then, but not like he is now. Now he’s like I’ve never seen him.”
Suddenly I’m awash in emotion. I press my balled fist against my sternum. Of all the things I expected to hear, this wouldn’t have made the top one hundred.
“Are you telling me I make him happy?” My voice catches at the end. That’s what happens when you’re smiling and trying not to cry all at once.
“He’d kill me if he ever finds out about this conversation,” he says, chuckling softly. “But yeah, you make him happy. He’s crazy about you and I just don’t want him to get hurt.”
What? I slowly lower my hand to my side. “You think I’ll hurt him?” That I have the power to?
Mitch instantly appears contrite. “Not on purpose. But I can’t help remembering the last time you guys got together. When you ended it, Josh—” Agitated, he breaks off and runs a hand through his dark-blond hair. “How do I put this? He didn’t take it well.”
My eyes go wide. Wow. This is news to me. “What do you mean he didn’t take it well?”
“He stopped going out. His life was basically work and the gym. For a while, he stopped going to our pick-up basketball games. At one point, his mother called me. She wanted to know why Josh hadn’t come to dinner in over a month.”
If you’ve ever been hit in the head by a volleyball going fifty miles per hour (I have), you’ll know how I feel: dazed, overwhelmed. “I had no idea,” I say in a hushed voice. And here I’d thought not only had Josh moved on, I’d been sure he was sleeping with a different girl every night while I was pining for him. By what Mitch is saying, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“The only reason I’m saying anything to you now is because Josh likes to give the impression that there isn’t a woman alive who can hurt him. But you do, Erin, you have the power to hurt him.”
I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. I don’t know what to say. This is Josh he’s talking about. Josh’s feelings for me.
After closing and opening my mouth again, I whisper, “Well, then, I guess we’re even.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Erin
“I have to confirm the booking at Brighton Cove by the end of next week and pay the deposit,” I tell Josh as we’re cuddled up together on his couch.
The last few weeks we’ve fallen into a routine where I spend the weekends at his place. This weekend our plan is to do absolutely nothing. Well, except the obvious.
“I’m also sending out my invites next week, so make sure you send yours too.” I’d been tempted to do it for him, but I’d ordered them and done the research on all the places and narrowed the list down to two for him to give his opinion.
Josh nods, running his hand lazily down the side of my waist and hip. With dinner and dishes behind us, going by the way he’s stroking the side of my breast, he’s definitely ready for the dessert part of the meal.
I plan to have a dish of hot-and-bothered Joshua Marshall. I shiver at the thought and his arms tighten around me.
“I thought you said Mitch’s grandparents were picking up the tab?” he asks, idly playing with strands of my hair.
“They are. I just have to forward the invoices to them.” When I said pay the deposit, I meant make sure it gets paid. This is one of those times it’s nice being the middleman. Although, the best thing was telling Jane and Tonya, two of Paige’s friends who used to work with her at the restaurant, that the weekend wouldn’t cost them a dime.
Josh lifts a handful of hair off my shoulder. “Chloe called me last night.” His voice is low and soft, almost a hum in the quiet of the apartment.
My head jerks up and my gaze locks with his. I’m almost afraid to ask, but curiosity gets the better of me. “Oh yeah? What for?” Please don’t tell me she wants you back. I can deal with anything but that.
Josh chuckles. He must be reading my mind. “She wanted to know if I’d mind her getting in touch with you—you and Paige.”
I release the breath I’d been holding. He did tell me Chloe wanted us to remain friends, but I didn’t think she was serious. I place my hand on his chest. “And what did you say?” I know he isn’t crazy about the idea and who can blame him?
“I told her it’s up to you.”
Do you see why I’m crazy about this man? I can only imagine what it must have cost him to say that…and mean it. If it were Dale, he’d have been unequivocal in demanding I stay away from her. No way, no how, never. It had been his way or the highway and he made sure the highway was a long, dark and lonely road.
“And I will only consider it because you never slept with her.”
That earns me a smile and a kiss on the tip of my nose. “I know.”
“Then, would you mind if I invited her to Paige and Mitch’s party?”
Josh jerks his head back, his expression a hair short of horrified. “Don’t you think that’s taking things a bit too far?”
Giggling, I lay my cheek on his chest. “Just kidding.” I like Chloe. I really do. She’s a sweet person. But she is Josh’s ex-girlfriend and our relationship is too
new to be put through the stress test her presence in our lives would bring. Me and her hanging out together or with Paige is one thing, but anything involving Josh is out of the question…for now. We can revisit the issue next year and see how things feel.
“Ha ha. You’re a regular comedian.”
I pat his chest and remark dryly, “Believe me, I’m not a huge fan of exes being super friendly and taking vacations together. Will and Jada are setting a horrible example by being so chummy with his ex-wife. They really need to cut that nonsense out.”
Josh emits a deep belly laugh that warms my insides. “But they have a son together.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean they need to invite her on family vacations. I mean, who does that?”
No seriously, who does that?
“Mature adults, I suppose.” Josh says it as if not fully convinced people like that actually exist outside of Hollywood.
“Then I guess I’m not all that mature.”
“I guess I’m not either,” he murmurs, running his fingers through the length of my hair.
God, I love when he does that.
“Try to get a room as far away from the others as possible.” He nibbles his way from the spot behind my ear to the corner of my lips.
“As long as you don’t forget to invite Trent or you’ll suffer Paige’s wrath.” I have to remind him because Trent’s name was noticeably absent from the initial list he showed me.
The twist to Josh’s mouth is subtle, but it’s there, indicating the slightest aversion to the man under discussion. “Is that the same for you? Will you be angry if he doesn’t come?” The intensity of his gaze belies the studied casualness of his tone.
Inside, I smile but I’m sober and reflective in my response. “I like Trent, so of course I want him to come. But believe me, he’s not interested in me and I got over my crush a long time ago.”
The perceptible tightening of his jaw leaves me mystified. What did I say?
Played (Trapped Book 3) Page 21