Just One of the Groomsmen

by Cindi Madsen

  She’d cried about it more than once, and it was one of the reasons she’d fled town as quickly as she did.

  He didn’t want Addie to be dragged through that—she was tough, but everyone had a breaking point, and words often sliced and scarred worse than anything else.

  He hadn’t had a long-term relationship in years, either, but every single one had included ugly fights. His life was in total upheaval right now, too.

  He groaned, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she said.

  “I get what you’re saying, but I can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how much I tell myself not to mess things up.” His hands drifted down to her ass, not lifting like he wanted but copping a generous feel. “And, Addie, I need to kiss you. I don’t think I can go without doing it again.”

  She trailed her fingers over his jaw and flattened her hand against the side of his face. Their lips met in the middle, and he lost the will to hold back—not that he had much of one in the first place.

  He lifted her into his arms, anchoring her to him as he rolled his tongue over hers. She drove her fingers through his hair, her fingernails dragging across his scalp, and it felt so damn good he worried his knees would give out and he’d dump both of them in the water.

  He walked them toward the truck, blindly reaching out for the hard metal surface, and as soon as he found purchase, he pressed her against it.

  She dropped her forehead to his, her rapid breaths sawing in and out of her mouth. “Weren’t we in the middle of discussing how this is a bad idea?”

  “I don’t recall that, no,” he said, kissing her again.

  She laughed against his lips, and then she pulled back and looked him in the eye.

  He’d seen her in just about every state, but he’d never seen her like this. Lips swollen from kissing, lust swimming in her big brown eyes.

  It turned him on all over again, until his veins contained more fire than blood.

  “Maybe if we…take it slow?” she asked. “And constantly check in with each other? And we have to be honest about how we’re feeling, no holding back.”

  “Sure, we can do that.” His concerns about the gossip bobbed to the surface again. “And we should definitely keep it just between us right now. That’ll help cut out a lot of that extra pressure and unnecessary drama.”

  She pursed her lips together, getting that deep-thinking crinkle again, and then she slowly nodded. “Right. And if it starts to get in the way of us…” She ran her hand down his cheek, and it calmed everything inside him even as it also stirred it up. “I need us to be us.”

  “God, me too.”

  “In the name of going slow, I think you better take me home.”

  A groan ripped from his throat as she slid down him in one torturous drag, and when she turned to open the truck door, he tugged her back to him and pressed his lips against her neck.

  “I know, I know,” he whispered. “I’ve just been thinking about kissing you for a while, and I worry if I let go, I might wake up.”

  She pinched him, and a sharp pain shot up his arm.

  “Ouch.”

  “Not a dream,” she said.

  “I appreciate you using me to make sure.”

  She smiled over her shoulder at him. “Anytime.”

  This could work. They could go slow. Check in.

  It’d be them but with kissing and hopefully, eventually sex, because he was rock hard from the amazing things she did with her tongue, and thinking of having her legs wrapped around him propelled him into the blue-balls-for-days stage.

  He boosted her into the truck via a hand on her ass, rounded the hood, and readjusted himself the best he could as he settled behind the wheel. He glanced at her long legs in those yoga pants and holy shit, her nipples were hard and straining against her thin T-shirt.

  “While we’re taking it slow, maybe you can wear that ratty sweatshirt you love and help downplay those curves. Baggy sweats, too—didn’t you used to wear those all the time? Or those fucking farmer overalls.”

  “Hey,” she said, but she laughed. “You’d better wear your disgusting old ratty hat, then.”

  He reached behind the seat, grabbed hold of it, and tugged it on, pulling the brim nice and low.

  “Maybe you should wear it on your lap,” she said, her gaze homed in on his situation, which only brought it raging back.

  “Not. Helping.”

  Her laugh turned borderline evil.

  As they started the bumpy return drive to town, though, silence fell between them. It grew heavier and heavier, like they were both realizing the huge line they’d crossed.

  He wanted to reassure her it’d be fine—they had fail-safes in place. We’ll figure it out. It’ll all be okay.

  “Do you need to get your truck from the bar, or should I drop you at your house?”

  “I actually walked to the field, so home. My home. Not my parents’ home.”

  “I figured, although I was about to head there out of habit.”

  Funny enough, he only knew where it was because she was renting the old Sumpter place. Since Addie moved in shortly after he moved away, he hadn’t been inside.

  She lived just off Main Street, and he parked along the curb next to her mailbox. In the dark cab of the truck, they were at least semiprotected, but if they stepped out onto the streetlamp-lit sidewalk together, dozens of eyes could be on them in a matter of seconds.

  “Check-in time,” Addie said, twisting to face him. “Do things feel weird now that everything’s sunk in? Are we okay?”

  “Not weird.” He glanced around, then leaned closer and brushed his lips over hers, satisfaction winding through him at her tiny whimper. “I’m better than okay. You?”

  She nodded. “I’m okay. But this is going to be tricky.”

  Understatement, but he was too happy right now to care.

  She reached for her door handle. “Good night, Crawford.”

  He wanted to do the gentlemanly thing and walk her to the door; he just knew that if he did, he’d forget about being a gentleman, pull her into his arms for another groping session, and kiss the hell out of her anyway.

  Then someone in town would be wagging their tongue, and those complications would rush at them from all sides, and he refused to destroy this before it even had a chance.

  So he playfully punched her shoulder and said, “Night, Murph.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Oh my.” Addie stared at her reflection, taking in the strapless bridesmaid dress and how much of her cleavage was on display—the “sweetheart” neckline had sounded so innocent when Lexi first mentioned it, too.

  Between having to coach a soccer game and the fact that the bridal shop was two towns over—and okay, Auburn was also playing that same evening—she’d missed the original dress-shopping excursion.

  She didn’t think it would matter much. To her, a dress was an uncomfortable dress, so it wasn’t like she was qualified to give input. She’d simply texted her measurements to Lexi and told her she’d wear whatever.

  In hindsight, not the best idea, but after everything that’d happened, it wasn’t like she’d say she didn’t want to wear the strapless number that landed a few inches above her knees.

  Since so much of her bra was on display, she was also glad she’d worn one of the sexy ones her sister helped her pick out. She knew she’d be trying on a fancy dress, and well, it cost a shit-ton compared to her usual boring white bras, but the dark purple straps stuck out, clashing with the crimson fabric.

  Yeah, crimson.

  I wonder if Shep knows his wedding is gonna look like it was thrown by a bunch of Bama fans.

  “You look amazing,” Lexi said.

  “I look…” Half naked.

  She tugged at the top, not trusting it to stay
in place. She’d already had one flashing incident, and if she flashed any of her other guy friends—or worse, the whole town—she’d have no choice but to flee and assume a new identity.

  “I’m guessing you don’t want my bra straps hanging out on the big day?” She flicked the strap. At least it wasn’t a totally torturous undergarment, although not quite as comfortable as Alexandria let on.

  Admittedly, it did make her feel a little bit sexy, and she could use that right now.

  “You need a strapless bra for it,” Brittany said. Naturally she’d come prepared wearing hers.

  She’d also stripped in front of everyone in the general fitting area, showing off her willowy figure, while Addie had stepped into the dressing room to change and then seriously considered never coming out. “I’d recommend a thong, too, to avoid panty lines.”

  Right. Because what was missing from this whole experience was a tiny strip of fabric riding up her ass.

  That way, when she inevitably tripped on her heels, she could expose her bottom half to the entire wedding party.

  Hey, maybe then the townsfolk and her friends would acknowledge she was a girl!

  At least Tucker knows.

  A smile spread across her face as she thought about last night.

  About his lips and his tongue and his hard body pressed against hers, and how close she’d been to throwing out logic and what-ifs and telling him to take her back to his place.

  If the thorough, fevered way he kissed was an indication, they’d have a very good time for a very long time…

  The temperature in the room rose, and suddenly she was grateful for her half-naked state.

  Until she caught her reflection again. How could she wear this in front of the whole town?

  Sure, strapless and midthigh was respectable in theory, but she’d never displayed quite this much skin at once.

  Addie tugged down the skirt but that only made the top dip down to display more of her bra. “How do your boobs stay up without straps?”

  “Magic,” Lexi said with a giggle—the bridal shop kept plying them with champagne, and even though it wasn’t Addie’s drink of choice, she took a healthy gulp from her glass.

  “Hear me out. How ’bout instead of a dress, we wear yoga pants and matching T-shirts?” She punctuated her joke with a clap.

  Brittany curled her lip, but Lexi laughed. “Will said you weren’t a dress-and-heels-type girl.”

  “Thus the groomsman title.”

  “Come on. You look amazing.” Lexi placed her hands on Addie’s shoulders and spun her to face the mirror again. Then she tipped onto her toes, nearly knocking her off her feet, bare as they may be, and whispered, “I bet Tucker will think so, too.”

  “I think he’ll laugh.” All the guys would. “I’m not sure I can pull off sexy.”

  So much for the momentary boost her lacy underwear had bought her.

  “Of course you can,” Lexi said. “And trust me, he won’t.”

  Now Addie didn’t just have the potential to make a fool of herself in front of a guy.

  She’d be making a fool of herself in front of Tucker, who usually dated Barbies and beauty queens.

  Whereas she was the girl who’d eaten twenty-one deviled eggs in under a minute; the girl who’d gotten overly competitive and accidentally elbowed her first serious boyfriend in the nose when he tried to steal the ball from her on the soccer field.

  She’d broken his nose and he’d been her first heartbreak.

  Her sexual experience was best summed up as “few and far between,” and even the during was nothing to brag about.

  I need a How to Be Sexy for Dummies crash course before I sleep with Tucker.

  If I sleep with Tucker.

  Desire streaked through her as she relived more of the kissing, and the way his big body had pinned her to the truck as he ground against her.

  Dang, I wanna sleep with him.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about it, even as she reminded herself they were going slow so they didn’t accidentally ruin everything.

  Addie glanced from Lexi to the three other bridesmaids. That “One of these things is not like the other” song played through her head, but if she managed to impress Tucker, she supposed she could suck it up and focus on that.

  “You know we’re not wearing ponytails to the wedding, right?” Brittany said.

  Addie gave her a syrupy sweet smile. “You know what I do know? How to throw a killer right hook.”

  She was aware she shouldn’t derive so much pleasure from the wide berth Brittany suddenly gave her, just like she fully realized she’d have to call in some favors if she was going to wrangle her hair into the complicated updo all the bridesmaids—and one of the groomsmen—were going to wear.

  When the champagne made the rounds again, Addie filled her flute to the top.

  By the time they stood for alterations, she was buzzed enough that Lexi talked her into borrowing one of her dresses and going with them to some ritzy club, as a practice-wearing-a-dress-and-heels-slash-bachelorette-party twofer kind of thing.

  The rest of the evening went much like that, with her agreeing to crazy things that would normally make her run—she was as surprised as anyone when she found herself genuinely enjoying herself.

  And when the bridesmaids asked if the other groomsmen were single, since apparently after flirting with Tucker through text messages, Brittany had already claimed him, Addie held it together.

  By asking Lexi to take her onto the dance floor and teach her some sexy moves. If she had to compete with women like Brittany, she didn’t have time to waste on things like common sense.

  As they danced, Lexi also gave her flirting tips. Despite insisting she should practice, Addie forewent trying them out on guys in the club.

  For embarrassment’s sake, and out of respect for Tucker—although considering Brittany’s claims, she’d be getting confirmation that went both ways ASAP.

  When she received a message from Mom, Nonna Lucia, and Lottie, about how David had been seen around town with a woman rumored to be the beautiful ex-girlfriend Addie paled in comparison to, she took it in stride.

  By ordering shots.

  And at the end of the night, when the taxi driver asked where to drop her tipsy ass, she decided to run with the crazy, take advantage of the fact that she still had on not only Lexi’s little black dress but also sexy purple underwear, and told him to drop her at the houseboat.

  …

  Banging accompanied things falling to the floor, and Tucker sat up in bed, listening for the intruder as he reached for the baseball bat he’d unearthed when he’d moved in.

  It could be a critter, maybe a raccoon, but it sounded bigger than that, and he worried about Flash darting out and getting hurt.

  Then a familiar strawberry scent hit him, turning his thoughts from attacking to…well, a different type of attacking.

  Another bang as what he guessed was his box with boat parts clanged to the ground, and she muttered a loud “Ouch” followed by a stream of swearing.

  Flash barked, and Addie’s “whisper” cut through the room. “Flash, shhh. You’re gonna get me found out, and it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

  Tucker flipped on the light, grinning when she jumped. “Too late. You were found out the instant you stumbled in and your perfume hit my nose.”

  She blinked at him, and holy shit what was she wearing? It was one of those little black dresses, tight and sequined, and her brown hair spilled around her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, and she had the look of a woman in need of ravishing.

  Whoa, thoughts. Let’s take it down a notch.

  He swallowed past a dry throat, trying to focus on something besides Addie’s never-ending legs and how much he wanted to get his hands on them. “Whatcha doin’?”

  “I went to a dance
club,” she slurred.

  He didn’t like the thought of her in some club, men constantly approaching and buying her drinks and staring at her in that sexy dress, and the thought of them touching her sent jealousy surging up to the forefront, even as he told himself to keep it in check.

  “A dance club? That’s rather far from your usual jaunts. Did you dance?”

  “I did, and if there’s not a video of it on YouTube, titled something like ‘America’s Worst Dancer,’ it’ll be a frickin’ miracle.”

  “Oh, I doubt it was that bad.”

  In that dress, it didn’t much matter how she moved.

  His eyes dipped to her cleavage and the way her chest rose and fell, rose and fell.

  She swiped the hair that’d fallen in her eyes behind her ear, and was she purposely trying to kill him with the way she dragged her hand down her neck and over the swell of her breasts?

  “Anyway, it was like a test run, although the bridesmaid’s dress is a bit more revealing and doesn’t have any straps, and how is my bra supposed to stay up without straps?”

  Tucker assumed saying who cares if it stays up? wasn’t the right answer.

  His fingers twitched with the urge to test the bounds of her current straps—to tug them down and take a taste, just a tiny one.

  “Then I got drunk, and when my taxi driver asked where to drop me, I told him here.”

  “You took a taxi while you were wasted and alone?”

  She crossed her arms. “Don’t get all huffy and overprotective. It was one of the Colburn boys from Loachapoka. Course, I wasn’t really thinking ’bout how he might blab just as easily as Lottie.”

  He still didn’t like the idea of her alone in a cab in her drunken state, but before he could renew his lecture, she ran her gaze over him, lust widening her eyes. “I thought I was mostly naked, but you’re only wearing your boxer briefs.”

  They were feeling tighter by the second, too. “I wasn’t exactly expectin’ company.”

  Addie took a large step, wobbled, and braced her hand on the counter, and in a few more strides she was toe-to-toe with him.