“Good. You both could use a friend close by.” He could hear shuffling in the background, the sound of her pulling up the blankets and settling in for the night. Hopefully in his bed like usual, even if he wasn’t there.
“He doesn’t have someone like you. Sophie, I don’t know how I’d be getting through this without you. Thanks for understanding I needed to be here. For letting me just be.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”
“Me too. I’ll help Zane with some of the arrangements in the morning. He’ll have to shoulder most of the burden, which I hate putting on him. But he’s a survivor. He’ll roll.” Hopefully. “I’ll do as much of the legwork as I can by phone and fly back down in a few days.”
Asher would be able to coordinate with the funeral home for his cremation. Leave Zane with the sole task of picking up the ashes. Shit, and dealing with Jack’s belongings. It felt like too much to leave for Zane, but the timing just sucked, and Zane had insisted.
Kicking off his shoes, Asher quickly brushed his teeth while they talked. Dead on his feet, he stripped down before sliding into the stiff hotel sheets. “Distract me. I’m not going to be able to sleep with my head on fire like this. Did Pippa calm down at all today?” He flipped off the light and sprawled across the bed.
“A bit. It felt like one long, drawn-out girl’s day like we had in our first apartment way too often. Seemed to be the old Pippa shining through; glad to see she’s still in there. I love that girl, but holy crap she’s been a stranger lately. We went for a walk and baked cookies and painted our nails. Well, our toenails…”
The image of her glaring at her bitten down fingernails struck him. She bitched at herself every time she discovered she’d started gnawing unwittingly. He found it an endearing habit; she didn’t see it that way.
“…Then, I sent her off to bed early to rest up for tomorrow. For a bossy thing, she didn’t seem to mind me ordering her around.”
They chatted about somethings and nothings for over an hour. Asher struggled to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t seem to disconnect from her. “If I fall asleep, I’m sorry. I’m enjoying listening to you. Keep talking.”
Her sexy, wholehearted laugh echoed through the phone. “I’ll try not to be offended. I know you must be exhausted. Hate to say it, but I’m out of conversation topics. I’m tired too.”
“Why don’t you talk dirty to me, then? Tell me what you’re wearing and all the naughty things you’re doing to yourself in my bed. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get any sleep otherwise.”
Her amused laughter tickled into his bones. “Yikes. Not my forte. Let’s just call it a night.”
“Please? I’m perfectly willing to beg.”
“It would take a hell of a lot more alcohol than my small glass of wine after dinner.”
“Not even if I tell you I’m already hard just thinking about how you’re wearing nothing but that little black lace thong? You don’t want to tell me about how you’re rubbing your sweet, wet pussy and dreaming of me?”
With very little begging, she accommodated him and left him with much better dreams than he could possibly have imagined. Despite her initial hemming and hawing, she was a natural. Impressively creative with very little prompting.
Could run a fucking call service. Not that he’d ever tried one, but if they sounded anything like Sophie, with her soft, soprano moans as she came over the phone…
19
The Big Day
Cheers of, “It’s my wedding day,” echoed through the house. Sophie glanced at the clock. She’d never seen Pippa up at six in the morning without a very good reason. And she was certainly never happy about it.
In the distance, Sophie heard a knock on a door. Shit, her door.
Leaping out of Asher’s bed, she ran through the bathroom and into her bedroom. Realizing she was still wearing nothing but the thong he’d begged for last night, she tossed on an old shirt and shorts. She wasn’t overly creative and had to immerse herself in character last night.
It had taken forever to fall asleep last night after their dirty conversation, she was so wound up. With his enthusiasm on the other end, getting off on her words and her voice, describing her body, how she touched herself and how it felt, she grew increasingly confident.
Hell, she’d about come just at the sound of his deep, rolling voice telling her all about what he wanted to do with his tongue. Add that and a little manual stimulation and she’d come three times over the phone. It would be a miracle if she didn’t jump him on sight.
Quickly catching her breath, she opened the door.
“You look awfully out of breath for so early in the morning.” Pippa was still in her bathrobe with her hair standing on end, in adorable disarray, but was all smiles.
“Sorry, I was in the bathroom and didn’t hear you right away. Happy wedding day.” Pippa’s good mood was actually rather contagious. Although, she’d woken with a perma-smile herself this morning.
“Be down in ten. Okay twenty. Maybe thirty. I’m making breakfast.” Without waiting for an answer, Pippa danced down the hall and down the stairs.
At least she wasn’t frantic and self-pitying anymore. Maybe a little manic, however. In twenty-four hours, she might have her friend back again. Hopefully.
Complying with the very reasonable request, Sophie had run, showered, dressed, and was downstairs within thirty minutes. Paul and Denise, equally sleepy after the abrupt awakening, were sitting in the living room sipping coffee, looking very much like sleep-deprived parents on Christmas morning.
Sophie poured her own coffee and, at Pippa’s urging, joined them on the couch. Her phone chirped an incoming text, Morning gorgeous. I’m going to try to catch an early flight, but not looking good so far.
Bleary-eyed, Denise turned to Sophie, “You’re getting updates from Asher? Why am I not getting any?”
Oh boy. Sophie had figured at least his mother would have started to notice, but she was as blind to her son, apparently, as everyone else. Denise must not have read the full text over her shoulder, or she would have answered her own question.
Paul bit his cheek to hide his smile. Apparently, he wasn’t so oblivious. Entertained by her ignorance, he patted his wife on the knee but didn’t say anything. He flashed a conspiratorial wink at Sophie.
She’d already had her defense planned. “One of my maid of honor duties. I’m the communication hub.”
Her phone beeped again, this time from Freya. On my way. “Case in point. Freya is on her way.” Phew. Good timing. Shouting to the kitchen, she made sure Pippa was cooking enough for Freya as well.
The morning actually went pretty smoothly. Pippa’s chipper, and seemingly relaxed mood, lasted throughout the day, even after they arrived at The Barn and started set up. Having the planning done so thoroughly, the big day ran impressively smoothly.
Sophie felt like she was directing traffic. Pippa’s aunts were displaying flowers and centerpieces around the venue. Various capable looking folks were setting out tables and chairs from the rental trailer, mostly extended family that Sophie hadn’t met yet. The small outdoor tent had already been set out. Paul was setting up the less expensive arbor, rather than the massive portable gazebo Pippa had given up.
All was going well. So far, so good. Bride getting ready. Groom present and accounted for, still hasn’t seen the bride.
Grady wandered over to Sophie as she stood in the center of the field and ensured everything was going smoothly. “This looks amazing. I’m grabbing Lincoln a shot of something strong; I’ve never seen him so nervous.”
Chuckling, Sophie linked arms with him and walked toward the portable bar. The bartender was setting out the evening’s available drinks for display. “Can we bother you for a bottle of whiskey for the groom and some white wine for the bride?”
“Sure thing,” offered the brunette with an affable demeanor, a metallic jingling sound as she nodded, shaking the long string of earrings lining her ea
rs. “I’m still setting up, so go ahead and grab what you need for glasses and such.”
Accepting the bottle, she turned to Grady. “Pippa’s doing surprisingly well. I think she got most of her wedding crazies out of the way already, thank goodness.” Sophie grabbed a handful of glasses for the ladies as Grady grabbed some for the guys.
“I guess now Lincoln’s making up for his prior calmness.”
Freezing, Sophie had to confirm, “He’s not having second thoughts?”
Rolling his eyes lightheartedly, Grady shook his head and refuted her brief panic. “Hell, no. He’s well and truly hooked. I think it’s just the whole drama of the day. He’s stayed calm this whole time; he’s allowed a brief freak out.”
Looking her up and down, Grady noticed Sophie was still in her jeans. “Shouldn’t you start getting ready?”
Sophie’s phone chirped in her back pocket. Setting the wine and glasses on the nearest table, she checked her text. Thirty minutes out.
“Yes, I really need to go get ready. Fyi, Asher should be here in half an hour.” She shoved her phone back in her pocket and juggled the glasses until she held them all securely.
“Sophie?” Grady was suddenly serious, his expression genuine. Smiling hesitantly, Sophie didn’t know what to expect, what he was getting at. “I’m really, really happy for you and Asher. Really.”
“Are you sure? Because you just said really, like three times,” she teased.
He grinned back, “Yeah, that sounded bad. I mean it though. I haven’t known you as long, but I sort of knew Asher growing up. What I’m getting at is, I sort of watched Asher grow up from the periphery. Always a little jealous at how confident he was, especially with women. How he followed the beat of his own drummer. Honestly, I thought he’d end up a lifelong military playboy. Lately, with you, he’s seems so much more settled than he’s ever been.”
Sophie nearly dropped the load of glasses in shock. She hadn’t realized Grady had even known Asher, they were so distant now. It wasn’t a big town, and they were pretty close in age; of course they’d known each other. “Thanks. Really. I’m happy.”
Starting to relax, Sophie was feeling a sense of peace that everything was going to be okay. Wedding set to go. Bride relaxing; bridezilla exorcised. Groom appropriately nervous. Groomsmen happy and almost all present.
Knocking with her foot on the bridal ready room door, Sophie didn’t dare risk the glasses she’d commandeered, juggling the breakable load as she was. Freya appeared at the door a second later, almost completely ready. “I thought you were the photographer. She should be here any second.”
Setting her load on the table, she pulled out the cork the bartender had loosely recorked for her. “So sorry to disappoint you,” she rolled her eyes and started to pour the wine. “The photographer is here and is taking some scenic shots first.”
Standing in her stunning, sleeveless lace wedding dress, Pippa beamed. “My hair’s almost ready so she’d better get here soon before I mess it up.” Denise gratefully grabbed her offered glass of wine and continued her now one-handed smoothing and straightening of Pippa’s gown.
Speak of the devil. Freya let in a stunning redhead wearing practical but feminine slacks, heels, and a sleek top. “Hey there. I’m Bree for those of you who don’t know me yet.” She pulled around an expensive looking camera and winked at Pippa. “Don’t move, Pippa, you look amazing. Can I snap a few candids in here?”
Dazzled, smile wide and genuine, Pippa agreed. “Sophie, when’s my brother getting here? We can start with couples photos, but I have him planned for a bunch of family and wedding party shots.”
Handing Pippa a glass of wine, Sophie glanced at the time and reassured her, “ETA twenty minutes.”
The ladies finished getting ready. After Pippa left for photos with Lincoln, Sophie quickly slipped on her dress, including the excessively helpful pushup bra that Lucy had insisted on. She tugged a little to hide the hint of cleavage the bra had created. Carefully, so as not to wrinkle the delicate silk dress.
Freya tsk’d. “You’re not used to having cleavage, are you? Just own it. You look amazing.”
With one last fuss, Sophie managed to stop tugging at her dress. She could use a touch of Freya’s free-spirited confidence right now. Touching up her makeup and hair, she strapped on her tall heels and checked her reflection. Not bad. Maybe she’d try the fun bra with a few other outfits when she was feeling daring.
From behind, Freya handed Sophie her untouched glass of wine. “Quick, gulp for courage.”
With a chuckle, Sophie took a big sip and set the glass down on the table. Burning down her esophagus, she immediately regretted the bite-you-back swig; wine was generally not recreationally guzzled for a good reason. After a painful cough and watery eyes, she turned to Freya, “Ready.”
“I hate getting my picture taken; let’s get this over with.” Freya pushed Sophie out the door of the dressing room ahead of her.
Freya dragged her feet as she followed Sophie across the grounds. Toned down from Pippa’s original plans, the site was charming. Dramatic lighting still established the ambience, but with glowing fairy lights rather than trendy paper lanterns. Scattered tables and chairs surrounded the dance floor, topped with simple bouquets of seasonal flowers in country jars. Against the far wall, the buffet table was dressed with plain blue rather than layered translucent tablecloths. Sophie actually preferred the modified design.
Venturing outside through the massive, open barn door, Sophie let the sunshine wash over her bare arms like a warm shower. Most of the wedding party and family members that had come early to help with set up were now visiting in small clusters while they waited for the official guests to arrive. Freya abandoned her to mingle with cousins she hadn’t seen in years. Keeping to herself in the background, Sophie observed as the photographer took the bride and groom to the overlook point to snap some scenic shots.
They looked so much in love. Relaxed, finally. This was what it was all about. Sophie couldn’t deny the pang of envy that fluttered in her belly as the couple could publicly pronounce their love and intentions.
Pippa had better come around quickly. The secrecy was pecking away at Sophie’s soul, more with each passing day. She wouldn’t deny the stolen moments with Asher were thrilling, but acceptance would be better.
Out of nowhere, Sophie remembered the daisy bouquet Pippa had picked herself that morning. Sophie dashed back to the dressing rooms to grab it for Pippa. She’d want it in the photos.
Rounding the corner, she ran smack dab into Asher. Catching her before she toppled to the ground, he laughed out loud. “You ought to take corners a bit more cautiously. This time, I was ready for you.”
Melting in his arms, Sophie snuggled into him, appreciating his reference to their first collision. As he had then, he embraced her securely so she wouldn’t get hurt. She absorbed the heat emanating from his body, feeling his heart thundering synchronously with her own.
He was frazzled. His hair was a bit wild but had been neatly trimmed a few days prior, so it couldn’t become disheveled beyond repair. Sleep deprived with dark circles under his eyes, t-shirt and jeans wrinkled from the flight, he looked like he needed a long nap.
Arms still wrapped around her, he leaned his forehead against hers. “I missed you. Thanks for talking me through the night.”
Craving his touch, his kiss, Sophie slid her hands up his chest before pulling his body even more tightly against her, as much so as the laws of physics would allow. Pressing their lips together, the familiarity, the comfort, the thrill it stirred was a perfect triad of everything she needed. Gliding her tongue along his lower lip, she silently begged for more. Unrestrained for a brief, stolen moment in the empty hallway, they lost themselves in the kiss.
A throat clearing behind her quickly brought them back to reality. Paul and Denise stood in the doorway; Paul was blushing but not surprised, Denise looked completely aghast, her face more of a furious beet red. Admonishing her gr
own child, Denise put her hands on her hips and glowered, “Asher Harold Sutherland. What on Earth are you–”
Paul cut her off with a good-natured smirk. “Dear, I think you know what they were doing. And I’m quite certain they know what they’re doing.”
“But–”
Asher held one arm around Sophie’s waist and shifted her to his side possessively. “Mom, it’s not like that. Just please, please don’t say anything to Pippa just yet. We’ll tell her when she gets back from her honeymoon.”
Her exasperation faded to mild vexation, but the confused groove between her eyebrows wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t bother to hide the suspicion in her eyes. “Tell her what, exactly?”
Paul gave Asher a wink. “I’ll explain when you’re older, dear.” Guiding his wife away, he whispered in her ear.
Denise’s response was priceless, her sudden about-face was adorable. “You mean it? Another wedding?” She ignored Paul shushing her and laughed aloud with joy.
Blushing, Sophie tried to avoid Asher’s gaze. He turned her toward him with a gentle nudge of her chin, “He may be getting a bit ahead of things, but I’m looking in the same direction. I know it’s quick, but, Sophie, I love you.”
Legs turning to overdone noodles, she tried to breathe. “It is soon.” Terrified of the new emotion, the change it would bring, yet thrilled at the truth of it, the future it mapped out, she locked eyes with his. “I figured it out pretty quick though. I love you too.”
“Yeah? How quick?” Twinkle in his eye, he looked eager to hear her response, his hands still splayed around her waist.
Looking up at him, not as far as usual in her freakishly tall heels, the corner of her mouth quirked up in enjoyment before she responded. “About the time you took your shirt off to wipe the grease off your face and hands. Call me shallow, but I couldn’t wait to get my hands on those abs.”
Her teasing elicited the chuckle she’d hoped for. “I believe they call that falling in lust. Not love.”
All the Days After Page 21