Rumors: Angela & Tyler

by Rachael Brownell

  Ang is wiping her tears, her voice gravely, as she asks Emerson, who is sniffling and making a mess of herself. The moment is finally over when they hug it out, shedding tears together.

  "Is it my turn yet?" I joke.

  Angela nods, hands Emerson her gift, and slides up next to me. Reaching down, I snag a napkin off the table and hand it to her. Taking it, she dabs at her eyes as she wraps her arm around my waist and rests her head on my shoulder.

  "I'm not as cute as this one. I sure as hell don't have nice things to say about the two of you, but I know all your secrets, so unless you want them spilled, you should probably say yes. Hunter, Ryder, you two idiots want to stand up with me. Make me look good on my wedding day?"

  They share a look, shrug, and each gives me a thumbs up.

  "Seriously? That's how you ask them?" Ang says, unwrapping her arm from around my waist and pulling their gifts from the bag, tossing them across the table.

  "What? It’s how us men operate. It's a brotherly thing."

  Before Ang can scold me some more, Emerson speaks up.

  "Not to point out the obvious, but Ang has more friends than you do. Things won't be balanced." That earns her a chuckle.

  "He asked a friend from college already," Ang replies for me.

  "Who?" Ryder and Hunter ask in unison. Their eyes are wide with anticipation. They both like Vinnie, but I have a feeling they think I asked Declan. They don't know about his crazy-ass wife. No one does. I'm sure he'd like to keep it that way.

  "Vinnie," I state.

  Hunter's face falls as Ryder pumps his fist in the air.

  "I win!" he shouts.

  "Win what?"

  "Hunter and I had a bet who you would ask. I was right," Ryder announces, holding out his hand to Hunter who places a twenty-dollar bill in his palm.

  Leave it to my brothers to take bets on my wedding. And for Hunter to lose... that surprises me. He was fond of Vinnie the few times they met him. Ryder was a bigger fan of Declan.

  Chapter Seven

  After a somewhat stressful holiday, it's been nice to spend a week unwinding on the beach with Angela. My Christmas present to her was a seven-day vacation to Aruba.

  No work.

  No stress.

  No wedding planning.

  Just the two of us. Alone. Ringing in the new year together.

  This year feels different than the last few. We're not celebrating another year together, we're celebrating the beginning of the rest of our lives together.

  Talk of the future, of course, leads to talk of the wedding.

  I tried to avoid it most of the time we've spent here. I don't want her to stress about anything. I need her to relax and enjoy herself. I've seen her stress levels rise over the last few weeks.

  After hosting dinner for the family, Ang and I were able to spend Christmas day alone. We spent the day cuddled on the couch, watching A Christmas Story over and over again. I'm glad that movie's only on once a year. I'm not sure I could watch it any other time.

  We opened presents and then Ang cooked us a huge breakfast while I picked up the living room. As I was stuffing wrapping paper in the trash bag, I stumbled across her 'bride book' again. Opening it, I realized how much went into planning a wedding. Most of her list included small details, important upcoming dates and meetings, but it was long and overwhelming.

  She has leads on a photographer and a DJ. She has a meeting with the venue she wants in a few weeks. She's going dress hunting with the girls when we get back. They're even taking Amara so she can pick out a flower girl dress.

  After the venue is secure, things are going to start going quickly. There are a few things I can help with, but most of it revolves around what Ang wants. What color she wants the flowers to be. What the tables will look like at the reception. Cake tastings.

  That I planned to help with. Having a tasty cake is important. I could care less what it looks like, but it has to taste amazing. I'm not the guy who will be smashing it against her face, although the thought did cross my mind. Nope, I'm going to delicately feed her a bite of our wedding cake, so it has to be orgasmic when it hits her tongue.

  The biggest thing on her list we haven't talked about is the honeymoon. This is something I will gladly take care of for her so she has one less thing to stress about.

  I'd been thinking about where to whisk her away to when I realized I had no idea where she wants to go. If we're spending a week on the beach now, would she want to come back here? Would she prefer a cruise? Or maybe a trip to Paris?

  I couldn’t care less where we go.

  My idea of a perfect honeymoon includes keeping Ang naked as much as possible. We could stay in Sunnyside, locked in the house, naked, and I would be a happily married man.

  I have a feeling she has other ideas.

  It was then and there, after looking through her bride book, I decided this vacation was going to be stress free. Wedding free.

  It's our last night, though, and after watching Angela unwind all week, I let the topic of conversation flow in the direction I know she's trying to guide it. The sun began its descent over the ocean an hour ago, and it's barely visible on the horizon now. We leave for the airport in less than twelve hours, and by this time tomorrow, we'll be back home, getting ready to head back to work.

  "This has been an amazing week. Thanks, babe," she says, curling into my side.

  The lounge chair we're in was designed to accommodate one very large person. It's also perfect for two average size people that want to cuddle. We've shared this same chair every night this week as we've watched the sun set.

  "You're welcome. Just thinking about going back to work makes me want to stay here another week." Or two or three. My new assistant is driving me nuts already. It's been three weeks since she started, and even though Justine is still around to help her when needed, it's not the same.

  With Justine, I never needed to ask for anything. She knew, before I did, what I was going to want or need. I didn't have to ask her to do things. I certainly didn't have to explain how to do her job.

  Macie is making my job harder. Stressful.

  She's a nice girl, but she's irritating. That's not true. Frustrating is more accurate. That's not true, either. I miss Justine, that's all. I miss knowing what to expect each day and things running smoothly. I don't even want to think about what awaits me at the office Monday morning.

  "Me too but we both know we can't do that. Your father is counting on you, and soon enough we'll be off on our honeymoon."

  And here it comes.

  "Where do you want to go?" she asks after a few moments of pause.

  "Where ever you want. I don't care."

  "Are you thinking the beach again, somewhere tropical, or did you have something else in mind? Europe maybe?"

  She has a destination picked already. I can tell by the hesitation in her voice. She doesn't want to make the decision for me, so she's not giving me any clues.

  "If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?" I ask, genuinely curious.

  She thinks about my question for a few minutes, snuggling closer as darkness surrounds us. The only sound is the waves breaking against the shore and laughter floating down the beach from the hotel pool.

  "What about Greece?"

  "Greece?" I ask, not sure I heard her right.

  Angela strikes me as a beach-loving kind of girl. I figured after the wedding, she'd want to unwind in the sunshine, a drink in her hand and a smile on her face. That's why I brought her to Aruba. It's perfect all year round with beautiful white-sand beaches and crystal-clear water.

  "Or we could—"

  "No, Greece is cool. I like it. I'm just a little surprised, that's all. I was thinking you might want another tropical vacation. Maybe a cruise around the Caribbean."

  Uncomfortable silence surrounds us.

  Either I've hurt her feelings or she's thinking really hard about what my confession.

  Giving her a minute, I kiss the to
p of her head before resting my own against it.

  "Greece has a rich history. There's a ton of stuff to do, a cool beach I heard has red and black sand. But the real reason I want to go is because they have some of the most amazing sunsets. When I was in college I took an art appreciation class. For one of my assignments, I had to research a city assigned to me. I was given Santorini, Greece. For my presentation, I chose a painting I found of a sunset over the Aegean Sea. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and I knew I wanted to go there someday. To see it for myself.

  "Now, I want to share that moment with you. Tucked safely in your arms as the world fades around us. I've never felt safer."

  Well, fuck. If she wants to move to Greece, I'd be on board after hearing that.

  My girl. She's passionate about everything. Even a fucking sunset.

  "Greece sounds perfect, babe. I'll talk to the travel agency and have them start looking at our options when we get home."

  "Are you sure?" Looking up at me from the safety of my arms, there's hope in her eyes. Hope and love and excitement.

  "As long as I'm with you, I don't care where we are. All that matters is we get to enjoy the adventure together."

  Angela places her hands on either side of my cheeks and pulls my face down to hers. As we kiss, our bodies shift until she's straddling me, grinding against the part of my body that wants her most right now.

  GET A ROOM!

  We both pause when we hear shouting and laughter. Then Ang begins laughing, her body vibrating against mine which only makes my growing manhood want her more.

  "I love you, babe," she says between giggles. "Let's take this party back to our room, shall we?"

  Before I can reply, Ang hops off me and rushes up the beach toward the hotel. My gut tells me to chase her down, pin her in the sand, and have my way with her. My body, already aching for her, has other ideas. I need to move carefully, at the moment, so I can hide the tent in my pants from unsuspecting eyes.

  The moment I cross the threshold of our room though... game on. She'll have nowhere else to run and I'll take my time worshiping her until I get my fill.

  "Girls’ night?"

  There's no way to hide the concern in my voice so I don't try. We've been home less than a week and she's going out. Plus, the last time she had girls’ night, with all parties present, it was a disaster. It's been months, but I was hoping she wouldn't want to have a repeat of that night.

  "Everything will be fine. Megan promised to be on her best behavior, and Justine promised to help me wrangle her if things got out of control."

  "Who's going to keep Allison in check?" I ask under my breath.

  "We've got it covered," she says, turning her attention back to the mirror to finish reapplying her makeup.

  Her lips are extra shiny right now. Kissable. Fuckable.

  I'm such a douche sometimes.

  Although her lips would look really good wrapped around my—

  "What's the cocky grin all about?"

  Cocky grin.

  Ha!

  If she only knew.

  Angela stands, leaning her back against the vanity and crosses her arms over her chest. The simple act lifts her breasts, her cleavage on display for me in the low-cut shirt she has on tonight.

  Boobies.

  Damn, I need to get laid. Again. You would think it's been weeks not hours since she was beneath me.

  "Nothing. I was just thinking about maybe calling the guys, getting together if you ladies are going to be out. Can't leave Ryder alone too long, ya know. He's needy. He likes attention."

  Hanging with Ryder will help distract me from thoughts of Ang until she’s home, naked, in my arms. Her skirt is short, her top is tight and low cut. She's is bound to draw unwanted attention tonight. Not that she would fall for some lame-ass pickup line, but I don't like the thought of guys fawning over her.

  "Yeah, sure. I doubt that's what you were thinking. Plus, he has Amara tonight, so he won't be alone. And Brianna isn't feeling well, so I'm sure Hunter will want to stay home with her. I guess it's just you and the TV tonight. At least, until I get home."

  My cock springs to life at the thought of having her again when she gets back. He's going to ache for her until it happens. That's been happening a lot lately. I think it's because we've been having more sex since she's moved in.

  Before work. After dinner. A random afternoon quickie on weekends.

  Whenever. Wherever.

  Walking past me into our bedroom, Ang opens her jewelry box and slides two large bracelets on each wrist before putting in the diamond studs I bought her for our first anniversary.

  They were the first piece of jewelry I ever bought her. The first time I ever gave jewelry to a woman. Every time she wears them I'm reminded of the way we met. How insanely I fell for her when I first laid eyes on her.

  They also remind me how stubborn she can be. She almost wouldn't accept them. I had to promise not to buy her jewelry ever again to get her to take them.

  It was cute yet frustrating.

  Yes, they were expensive. One carat each with perfect clarity. They appear small compared to her ring, but the idea of marrying Ang wasn't even a blip on my radar at the time. I'm surprised she didn't refuse to take the ring when she saw it.

  That would have been a really bad day for me.

  As gorgeous as the earrings are, they're nothing compared to Ang. Dressed up, in sweats or naked, no one compares to her. She could be sick in bed or dolled up like tonight and I'd still think she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

  And I'm the lucky bastard that gets to marry her.

  "Don't have too much fun without me," she says, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

  I almost forgot she was still here. I've been staring at her, watching her gracefully move around our room. There are little touches of her everywhere now, most prominently in the closet. She owns twice as much as I do. I'm not sure how she managed to make it all fit.

  "The fun begins when you get home," I promise as she slips out the door and down the stairs.

  My cock is straining against my zipper, begging to be let free. If I take care of myself now, I should be good to go when she gets home later tonight. If I don't, I might burst the second I rip her clothes off.

  Chapter Eight

  Angela

  When Emerson proposed a girls’ night out, I got excited. When she told me she had invited Megan, I almost shit my pants. Not that Megan is a bad person, well not completely, but the idea that Em wanted to be in the same room as her, on purpose, was shocking.

  "It's a new year. We need to learn to get along if I'm going to be a part of Ryder and Amara's lives. Maybe if I show some initiative, she'll see that I'm not a bad person after all."

  Em's explanation makes sense, but I think she's giving Megan more credit than she deserves.

  Megan likes playing the victim. In her mind, it was Ryder's fault they got divorced. It was because he wanted to be with Em even though they didn't meet until after Ryder filed. Megan cheated on Ryder countless times, with at least two people from what I've heard. She knew what she was doing; she knew it would ruin her marriage if her secret got out, yet she didn't stop.

  She's selfish.

  Yet, here we are. The five of us, seated at one long table, talking and chatting like we're the best of friends. Everyone's ignoring the tension floating around us, even though you could slice through it with a knife.

  Megan has yet to look in Em's direction even though Em's tried to include her in the conversation on multiple occasions. Justine's even tried to get her to talk, but she won't. She's sitting quietly, sipping her wine and people watching.

  Allison, on the other hand, is watching everything unfold. There's a smirk on her face, one that tells me she's up to no good.

  Not tonight.

  This won't end like last time. I won't have the two them ruining the night because they think it's funny to act like little bitches.

  "So, Megan
," I say, cutting Emerson off mid-sentence.

  She and Justine were talking about a project their working on. Strategizing. Only Em would find talking about work relaxing on a Sunday night when she's out with friends. Can't this wait until they get in the office tomorrow?

  "Why are you here?" I ask once I have her full attention.

  To the silent observer, she has no reaction, but I see it. It's in her eyes. They bulge slightly before narrowing into tiny slits.

  Oops. I pissed her off.

  "I was invited." Feigning surprise, Megan places her hand on her chest and leaves her mouth agape.

  "I know. Emerson was kind enough to include you in girls’ night, even after the way you treated her last time we were all together." Her eyes narrow even further, bringing a smile to my face. "What I don't get is why you're here if you're going to ignore everyone. You could at least pretend to want to be here."

  "Why are you attacking me?"

  Are you kidding me? She's going to play the victim right now. Over me calling her out? Is she for real? I could get nasty, share the name of the man I caught her with months ago, but I won't stoop to her level.

  "If was attacking you, you'd know it," I reply pointedly. Her eyes narrow even further before she straightens her back and turns up her mega-watt smile.

  Yep, she knows what I was referring to.

  I'm the reason Ryder found out about her cheating. After I walked in on them, she made me promise not to say anything, but she should have known I wouldn't keep quiet. One look at his face, that's all it took for me to decide I was going to tell Ryder. He needed to know what kind of “friends” he had.

  Ryder didn't believe me at first. He had to see it for himself. He caught them shortly after, in the bed he shared with Megan and flipped out. When he called me to tell me, to thank me, I knew it was the end for them. I heard it in his voice.

  She doesn't know I told him. No one knows that but Ryder, but that doesn't mean she's isn't very aware that I still could. Her secret is only safe if it's kept a secret. He's only safe if I keep their secret.