Little Black Dress

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Me – Make an excuse for me, I’ll be there in a sec.

  I don’t wait for a response and step into my small shower. As I start to wash away the smell of Vaughn and sex, I feel the soreness and aches that only come from a very active night in countless positions. Vaughn was tireless, and it’s a good thing, too, because I couldn’t get enough of him.

  These thoughts of Vaughn did nothing to speed up my shower. Remembering it all, I stand under the water and allow my body to soak up the heat.

  It doesn’t matter how good a bullshitter I am, even I realize being near him all day while pretending nothing happened won’t be easy. I wonder what that will bring.

  The text tones of my phone start going crazy again, reminding me I’d better get my ass across the driveway, and fast.

  *****

  “Lucy Gladys Adair! Where in the world have you been?”

  This should make me feel bad, but after all these years, my mother has come to sound like the adult from Peanuts. She’s so easy to tune out, I barely hear her anymore.

  “Give her a break, she would’ve just been waiting anyway.” Abby tries to calm my mother before turning to me to roll her eyes. Our mother drives us bat-shit crazy on a regular basis.

  I shake my head as I hang my garment bag encasing my dress on the top of the door and toss my tote to floor. “I’m here aren’t I? Abby’s right, not everyone can get their hair and makeup done at the same time, I would’ve just been sitting around anyway.” I turn to Olivia, my future sister-in-law, and make an exaggerated face. “This is your last chance, Livvy-Livvy-Lu-Lu. Run now and run fast. Head for the hills, or you will forever be tied to the Adair women. You’ve never spent Thanksgiving with us. It’s scary and the bread is always burned.”

  “Lucy!” my mother admonishes me from the makeup chair. The technician had to pull her hand away quickly so as not to draw squigglies all over her face with the lip liner.

  Olivia laughs as she’s getting her hair done, and I grin at her, saying, “It’s true. It doesn’t matter who’s in charge of it, we always burn the bread. In fact, from now on, you’re in charge of bread.”

  Abby, who normally has her shit together, yawns. Even though she’s tired from being up all night with their newly adopted twins, she looks beautiful as she slips her dress on. She got all the good girlie curves and I got all the awkward, lanky height. But her curves have nothing to do with it today. Today, she shines from happiness since she and her hubby, Whit, became new parents in their long, hard battle to have children. My nieces are beautiful and our entire family is in love. Since Abby’s in the wedding, I’m sure Whit has his hands full today juggling two newborns all on his own.

  “I’m all for Olivia being in charge of the bread,” Abby says as she shimmies the zipper up her side before arranging her perfectly round and plump boobs in her dress. “It’s true. We suck at bread.”

  My mother sighs as she gets up from the makeup chair. “It’s the chaos of everything coming together at the end. Still, I don’t understand how we can’t get the bread right.” Turning to me, she’s back to bossy. “Your turn, Lucy. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

  I sit down next to Olivia, as the rest of the bridal party chatters and finishes getting ready. Staying still so the hairdresser can finish her loose up-do, Olivia catches my eyes in the mirror. She holds up her cell and wiggles it when she states, “Josh has been texting me all morning.”

  I raise my brows and shrug, confused, but still not, because they’re overly crazy about one another. Their romance was a quick one from the start and my brother proposed within three months of meeting her. She told me once he could’ve proposed within three weeks and she would’ve said yes. “Okay.”

  Her eyes go big and she gives her head a little shake, jiggling her perfect curls, much to the dismay of the hairdresser. At least she has the decency to keep her voice low when she explains, “It seems one of his groomsmen has been looking for you all morning. You know how Josh is, especially with his little sister…” She lets her voice trail off, saying nothing more, but by saying nothing, she’s saying practically everything.

  Oh, shit. That can’t be good. Josh can be annoyingly overprotective.

  The entire wedding party met back at the hotel lounge last night after the rehearsal dinner, but Josh and Olivia left early. I’d say it was to get a good night’s sleep, but it wasn’t. My brother wanted to have his way with his future wife since she insisted they sleep apart last night. I know this for a fact because he unabashedly announced this to everyone as he dragged her out of the bar. Abby and her husband, Whit, left shortly after, leaving me to have drinks with the rest of the wedding party, namely, Vaughn Isaac Rowe.

  I look away from her and square my ass in my chair, turning my face to the makeup technician who’s color matching my complexion. “I tend to break out. If you could use oil free foundation, please, I’d appreciate it.”

  Olivia continues as if I’m not ignoring her. “This has caused some pre-wedding drama amongst the men. One in particular, who, for some reason,” when her voice changes, my eyes dart to her, “is asking around for your number.”

  “Mouth open, eyes up,” the technician demands.

  Happy for a reason not to converse, I do as I’m told and huff a simple, “Huh.”

  “Ah-huh,” she confirms my huff. “And now my fiancé isn’t all too happy with one of his closest and oldest friends. My little brother sent me screenshots of a group text this morning and warned me that the love of my life was about to lose his shit on a certain Vaughn Rowe.”

  It was all I could do not to look over, but I certainly didn’t want squigglies on my face, as the technician is applying eyeliner as we speak. I hold steady, which was a good thing. I only hope I’m coming across disinterested because I’m most definitely very fucking interested.

  “Then,” she keeps on, giving me more, “there was a scuffle in the lobby a bit ago. And according to my mole—ya know, my little brother—the only reason the father of my future children didn’t kick him out of the wedding party, the hotel, or even the great state of California, was he was worried about distressing me on our wedding day because he thought I’d be upset about unbalanced pictures with one less groomsmen.”

  “Pucker,” the dictatorial makeup chick bossed.

  Lucky me, puckering meant I couldn’t speak, so I hummed a disinterested, “Mmm.”

  “It’s a good thing I love you, Lucy,” Olivia says with a smile in her voice.

  This makes me pull away from the domineering makeup artist and turn to my almost sister-in-law, not caring about squigglies.

  “I love you, I even love a little drama, but I really love it when your brother goes all caveman.” She continues, raising a brow while shooting me a mischievous smirk. I know what that means and it makes me grimace, because yuck, he’s my brother. Her smirk grows into a naughty grin, confirming my thoughts. “Yep, total turn-on, and just in time for our wedding night, thank you very much. But as much as I can’t wait to be Mrs. Joshua Adair, I can still be happy for you. Because Vaughn Rowe? Serious yum, so I hope it’s not just a one-night thing for you. Until this morning, Josh worshipped the ground he walked on. But don’t worry,” she pats my shoulder as she stands and the hairdresser sprays her hair, hitting me in the process. “I’ll deflect Josh for you today, and then we’ll be gone for a week and a half. Do me a favor and get it all sorted by the end of my honeymoon. If you’re smart, you’ll have fun doing it.”

  “Liv—” I start, but she interrupts me, giving me a talk to the hand gesture.

  “Eh-eh. I don’t want to hear anymore. From the sound of it, you had a fun night, but it’s my wedding day. Years from now we’ll look back on this and laugh, and it’ll be interesting to see just who you’re with when it happens.”

  What? There’s too much there. From the sound of it? What does that mean
? Vaughn doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would sleep and tell, especially when it’s his best friend’s little sister.

  And what does she mean, who I’m with when we look back on it?

  “We’re leaving in thirty to meet the men,” my mother yells through the room.

  All of a sudden I have a hair dryer blowing on my head while the makeup tech roughly grabs my chin to finish my face. Olivia leaves me to put on her gown and let the moms and her friends gush over her—which they should. This is her special day and I love her, too. My brother is as lucky to have her as she is him.

  *****

  “Excuse me.”

  Vaughn’s deep voice rings loud and clear through the ornamental gardens, our last stop for pictures.

  So far, we’ve been photographed on a cable car, at the ruins of the Sutro Baths overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the base of Lombard Street, and Potrero Hill with the landscape of the city as a backdrop. They’re not even hitched yet and my feet are fucking killing me, I’ve got dry mouth from smiling too much, and I have to pee. But the worst part is I’ve made myself look like a fool too many times to count by dodging Vaughn. I argued once with the photographer when he tried to position me near the man whose privates I’m well acquainted with, and the other, I swear Vaughn himself chased me in circles, trying to get close to me on the most crooked street in the world.

  Olivia’s done a good job all day handling her hubby-to-be, but that about did him in.

  Now we’re at the Botanical Gardens, our last stop for pictures. The photographer just arranged us, this time more formally, with our walking-down-the-aisle partners, when Vaughn interrupted the process.

  “Excuse me,” he repeats. “It’s plain to see we’re uneven.”

  The photographer, Ian, looks confused. “Uneven?”

  Vaughn steps forward and I look directly at him for the first time today since I’ve been doing my damnedest to avoid him altogether. He turns to our group, and we’re a big one. There are sixteen of us all together. Holding out his arms and motioning to us strangely, he doesn’t sound like himself when he speaks. “Maybe uneven is the wrong word. No, I think the shui is off. You know—from the feng. It doesn’t feel right.”

  Josh, standing in the middle of our group next to his bride, growls, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Ian has thus far proved to be detail oriented, loves what he does, and even Olivia told me he’s the best in the Bay Area. Basically, he’s artsy-fartsy to the max. So when he walks up and looks to Vaughn, it’s clear he means it heart and soul when he asks, “What do you feel?”

  Then, Vaughn Isaac Rowe, who I haven’t seen in years, but from my limited stalking on LinkedIn, I know he does something with technological advances in medicine, reaches out to take Ian’s hand, and looks straight into his eyes. “Your art, when in still form, is like architecture. We need to assure it’s balanced for prosperity, for them.” He tips his head toward Josh and Olivia. I feel my eyes go big as he keeps on. “It’s off, the invisible forces that bind the universe, earth, and humanity. Especially the wind and water. Do you feel it?”

  I hear snickers and giggles from our group. Olivia almost drops her bouquet trying to keep Josh by her side as he doesn’t hide a string of fucks, with very few nouns, adjectives, and verbs mixed in. All the while, Vaughn’s looking into Ian’s eyes intently, never letting go of his hand.

  What in the hell is he doing?

  Ian nods slowly at first, then quicker with each bob, as if he feels it, too. When he finally turns to our group, I can tell he squeezes Vaughn’s hand when he utters, “We need to make it right. What should we do?”

  Vaughn, looking victorious, whips his arms around while making demands, motioning for couples to move and mix it up. Then Ian gets into it, and before I can say Vaughn is the master of all the bullshitters, I’m standing in his arms. My front is plastered to his side, where he’s holding me tight, like he never plans to let me go. When I look up to him in complete shock, he looks satisfied with himself in a way that pisses me off and makes me wet, all at the same time.

  “How does this feel?” Ian asks, looking straight to the bullshitting expert.

  Because we’re tall and in the back, no one in our party can see when his hand falls from my waist to my ass. I let out a surprised yelp when he gives me a squeeze and answers, “I feel it now. The forces have settled. The wind and the water—they’re in balance. You may continue.”

  Ian smiles. “Excellent.”

  “You’re dead, Rowe. You hear me? You’re fucking dead,” Josh yells, not feeling the balance of his shui, or his feng, for that matter.

  For some reason, this buys me another butt squeeze, and I whisper harshly, “You’re a Feng Shui Fraud.”

  He gives me a smirk and another squeeze, pulling me tightly to him. Then he lowers his head and his lips come to my ear. Lips that have kissed me, tasted me everywhere, and sucked my nipples and clit. I have to close my eyes when those lips brush across my skin to overcome his touch. “Maybe. But Lucy, you ran out on me this morning. Not only did I want to talk to you, but I woke up wanting more of you. You can bet this fine ass the first possible moment I can get you alone, I’ll be working on your feng and your shui. You can count on it and look forward to it.”

  “Everyone look at the happy couple!” the photographer sings.

  When I look over, Josh is glaring at Vaughn. I don’t think Josh is very balanced right now, he looks off with humanity. Specifically, the human whose hand is on my ass at the moment.

  Damn. It’s going to be a longer day than I thought.

  Chapter Three

  Go-Vaginas, Go-Go-Vaginas

  Vaughn

  “Switch places with me.”

  Olivia’s younger brother, Will, who’s partnered with Lucy, rolls his eyes. “Dude, my sister and mom will have conniption shit. No way am I gonna piss them off today. Not to mention Josh’ll kick my ass right after he kicks yours. I’ve never seen shit like this go down over a girl before, not even at the frat house. I don’t get it.”

  “No one will notice, I promise.”

  “And deal with the wrath of my mother? No fucking way.”

  We’re at the back of the church, but the women are in the bride’s room with Olivia, and Josh is in the front by himself. This kid is young—I think he’s still in college. Maybe I should try speaking his language.

  “How old are you?”

  “Just turned twenty-two.”

  “I’ll give you five hundred dollars to trade places with me.”

  He looks surprised before a slow smile spreads across his young face when he holds his hand out. “Josh can kiss my ass. Pay up.”

  Closing a business deal in the back of the church like the devil, I pull my money clip out of my pocket and peel off five bills, handing them over. Looking him in the eye, I’m serious when I warn, “Not a word. Lucy’s first, I’ll grab her and go.”

  “My lips are sealed.” He pockets his cash and moves away, hopefully to position himself to the back of the line. At least I’m not the best man, or I’d never be able to pull this off.

  I can’t get her out of my head. I was pissed as hell this morning when I woke up alone and realized she’d split on me. The minute my eyes opened, I had plans. Only half of them included putting her in the shower, where I’d get to see her and then have her wet—inside and out.

  No, I’m not a complete jackass. Before we finally passed out last night, I planned. I knew exactly what I was going to say to make sure the shit that went down this morning didn’t happen. Never would I have taken Josh’s sister back to my room had I only wanted her for one night.

  When I saw her run into the church late, I couldn’t believe my eyes—little Lucy Adair had grown up. She’d always been Josh’s annoying little sister, hanging around and getting in the way. Even if she w
as a cute kid, it was an annoying cute. But she’s not cute anymore. She’s gorgeous, trim, fit, and all legs.

  Fuck, those legs.

  I must be the devil himself, because the minute she ran in late and I took her in from head to toe, I wanted nothing more than those legs wrapped around my waist. Or thrown over my shoulders. Or me holding them high and wide while I took her.

  But Josh is my friend, so I put all those thoughts out of my head, or I tried to anyway. That was until after the rehearsal dinner when the wedding party got together for drinks.

  Lucy is funny. She’s engaging. She’s smart, and a smartass. I learned all this last night when I couldn’t peel myself away from her. Put all those things together and wrap them up in a package like hers, I knew there was no way I could let her walk away from me. As our moments together ticked by, I became more and more bound by her spell. Even before we had too many drinks, I could tell she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

  I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want Lucy Adair. Even her name is full of personality.

  When I invited her up to my room for a drink at the end of the evening, her eyes flared. At that moment, we both knew there’d be no more drinking. She immediately closed the space between us, pressing her body against mine, and agreed to the private drink we wouldn’t be having.

  The moment my hotel door closed behind us, we were done drinking, talking, and toying. The pursuit was over and we’d both signed the contract. It was on.

  Was it ever. I’ve never had a night like I did with Lucy. She was insatiable and wanted every part of me as much as I did her. I’ve never taken a woman that many times in one night—she was absolutely greedy for it.

  When she yawned, trying to pull away from me to dress and leave, I wasn’t having it. No way could I let her go. I pulled her into my arms and insisted she sleep instead of making the long drive home to Sea Cliff. I told her I didn’t want her out in the middle of the night by herself, which was true, but I also didn’t want to let her go. I think she was so tired from all our activity, it didn’t take much to convince her. Once I had her naked body as close to mine as it could get, she was out.