Operation Bailey Wedding

by Piper Rayne

  “Why, are you crying?” I ask.

  She sounds like an injured animal. “Just… it’s my wedding dress. Grandma Dori must’ve left the door open and one of the dogs peed all over the bottom of my dress.”

  My forehead hits the door with a thud. Shit.

  Chapter Five

  Brooklyn

  Three Days before the wedding

  * * *

  “This is bullshit,” I mumble, throwing the screwdriver thingy to the side. I stare at the chicken coop and it’s lopsided and looking nothing like the directions say it should. Kingston is right, I’m going to kill my chicks before they can ever lay an egg.

  “You okay?” Wyatt comes out of the house and hands me a glass of lemonade.

  He’s really thriving with this homemaker shit. Even starting a garden in the back corner for vegetables. I’m over here failing at my first project.

  “I’m fine. Just go over there to your tomato plants.”

  He sits down next to me, his knees propped up with a glass of lemonade hanging from his hands between his legs.

  “Want some help?” he asks.

  I glance to him at my side. “No.”

  “Okay.” He shifts to get up.

  “Ugh… sit.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Please just sit down.”

  He does.

  He hasn’t made me feel guilty about the chickens, but he hasn’t helped me with any of the work either. I think he’s trying to teach me a lesson, but then again, our new kitchen table arrived yesterday, and he didn’t mind christening it last night. I’m getting a lot of mixed signals from him.

  “So you do want help?” he asks.

  I sigh.

  He waits patiently because he’s so much more patient than I am. He’d probably have this chicken coop already built, but after step one I was already annoyed.

  “I’m sorry, okay?”

  He chuckles, turns my way with that lottery winning smile. “You’re sorry?”

  I throw my hands in the air. “I’m sorry for buying the chickens without talking to you first.”

  “We’re a team.”

  “I know, but you brought Gizmo home without consulting me.”

  The dog hears his name and prances over, lying between us with his belly up in the air. I pet him and his two front paws cover my hand in a plea for me to continue.

  “That’s different. You wanted a dog. I don’t remember saying I wanted chickens.”

  I roll my eyes, but he does have a point. “Why do you always have to be right?”

  He picks up Gizmo and puts him on the other side of him. The dog whines but Wyatt ignores him and puts his arm behind me and one hand on my cheek.

  “It’s not about being right. I just want the consideration. You know I’ll give you whatever you want and that includes chickens. I’m going to help you with this chicken coop, but this is gonna be a lot of work.”

  I place my hand over his. He’s right and I hate that he’s right. All the damn time. “I’m sorry.”

  “There’s my girl.” He leans forward, his lips pressing to mine, and a moan slips up my throat.

  He lays me back in the grass and then he’s on top of me, parting my legs with his thighs to make room for himself.

  “You’re beautiful when you’re frustrated.” He circles his lips and I can feel his bulge through his track pants. “Watching you all afternoon with the power tools, bending over with that ass I love up in the air? It’s been hard not to come over sooner.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  He chuckles, his fingers brushing my hair off my face. “I like to torture myself.”

  “And me apparently.”

  He kisses my forehead. “Never you. I don’t like torturing you.” He kisses my nose. “But I kind of like that this is our backyard and there aren’t neighbors in sight. I love that I can strip you bare right here and push inside you with one thrust and no one would be the wiser.”

  “What’s up with all the talk? Why don’t you just do it?” I wiggle under him, positioning him right where I want him.

  “Why Miss Bailey, are you asking me to fuck you in broad daylight with no one but Gizmo watching?”

  “And the chicks,” I add. Locking my arms around him, I pull his lips to mine, but he hovers over them for a second. “Fuck me, Mr. Whitmore.”

  That does it.

  My clothes are torn off and flung somewhere in the grass while we frantically move our lips and hands all over one another. Under the blue sky with huge white clouds, Wyatt and I christen our backyard.

  “The house looks great, Brook.” Savannah sits on the edge of my bed. “It reminds me of our house growing up. You even have the lake.” She looks out the back window. Our lake is closer than my parents’, but she’s right, the lake was a big selling feature for me.

  “I wouldn’t have this without Wyatt.” I continue to put away some clothes we’ve yet to unpack.

  Savannah’s gaze is everywhere except on the box of picture frames she’s unpacking. “You bought it together.”

  I shrug. She’s right, but this is all thanks to Wyatt’s money. My essential oil company is making a profit, but the hotel is in the black and thriving since Wyatt bought it. It’s his money no matter how much he says it’s ours.

  “If we break up, I move out. I hate that. I wanted to put down half, but I couldn’t afford it.”

  Savannah sighs. “You’re partners. What’s his is yours and what’s yours is yours.” We both laugh. “Seriously though, you’re too hung up on the money issue.”

  “And what about you? What are you hung up on?” I sit on the bed next to her.

  Savannah’s life is in a huge upheaval. She’s been kicked out of her home because of a flood and is living with two men who party like wild animals. “Are they bringing home girls?”

  She unwraps another picture frame and sets it aside. It’s a photo of just the Bailey girls. “Denver has occasionally, but not as much as I would’ve thought.”

  “And Liam?”

  She shakes her head. Just like I thought, he’s the problem.

  “I’ve always liked Liam. He seems a little more respectable than our brothers.”

  “Maybe that’s because he’s not our brother,” she says.

  “Yeah, but he’s always felt like he was.”

  She stares at me like I just escaped an insane asylum. Because while I might view Liam like a brother and Juno might and Phoenix and Sedona might, I don’t think Sav has ever viewed him that way.

  “How are you guys getting along? I’m surprised you haven’t killed one another yet.” I knock her with my shoulder.

  She laughs and her finger runs along the edge of the picture frame. “I’m annoying him. He didn’t even come home last night.”

  I place my hand on her knee. “Do you want to talk about anything?

  Seeing her so down is hard. Savannah was our pseudo mom after our parents died. With her being only two years older than me, it’s weird that she’s always felt so much older because she took on so much so young.

  “Just about how you got Wyatt out there building a chicken coop.” She smiles. It’s fake but there. I should’ve known she’d hide whatever it is that’s bothering her. That’s Savannah, but sometimes I think she trusts Austin more than the rest of us because they both pushed their dreams aside so all of us could pursue ours. Austin got Holly, but Savannah’s still taking one for the team.

  I squeeze her knee and stand, going back to unpack Wyatt’s stuff. The least I can do is put away his clothes now that he’s taken over chicken coop construction.

  “I probably would’ve killed them. I’m not handy with wood and nails it turns out.”

  Savannah works a little faster to unwrap a few more picture frames. Her melancholy mood is shifting. Either that or she’s trying to force whatever is bothering her to the back of her mind.

  “He’s doing a great job. It looks cute.” She’s staring out the window again and I glance ov
er at her, but something else has caught my eye. In the bottom of the box, shoved between two pairs of jeans is a small ring-sized box.

  “Savannah?” I say my voice low like I’m looking at a bomb that could go off any second.

  Savannah doesn’t turn from the window, her eyes glued to whatever she sees.

  “What were you saying?” she asks like she wasn’t just lost for a moment.

  “There’s a small box in here.”

  “Okay, open it,” she says.

  I shake my head. “I can’t. I think it’s a …”

  Realization dawns on her face and she smiles because we all knew it was a matter of time, but I had no idea that he’d already bought the ring.

  Just then we hear the backdoor open. “Brook!” Wyatt yells.

  Savannah rushes over, helping me put all his clothes back in the box while two sets of footsteps barrel up the steps.

  Doing a crisscross thing with the lid, I close the box at the last second and kick it to the side just as Wyatt steps into the room. He glances around but smiles at us.

  “Hey Savannah,” he says, then looks at me. “I asked Liam to come over and help. I can’t figure this one part out. How about we order some dinner or something?” My naive Wyatt stands with nothing but optimism on his face with Liam standing a few steps behind him.

  “Shit, you know I just remembered I had an appointment rebook from earlier this week, and I have to get to the shop,” Liam says, gripping the back of his neck with his hand.

  “I’m going to take Grandma Dori to get her new hearing aid. I’ll come back tomorrow and help Brooklyn.” Savannah slides past him. “Great house, Wyatt.”

  They both leave and Wyatt and I watch out the front window as they get into separate cars, pulling away without a word to one another.

  “Do you think we should ask Savannah if she wants to move in here?” I lean my back to Wyatt’s chest.

  “Believe it or not, babe, I think she’s exactly where she should be.” He wraps his arms around my waist, and I stare at my hands over his. My left hand is bare, and I can’t help but wonder when he’s planning on proposing.

  Damn it! This is all I’m going to think about now.

  Chapter Six

  Denver

  * * *

  I walk into the tuxedo place and Austin is already there wearing his, standing on the pedestal with a man’s hands running up his legs.

  “I thought this was just the pick-up?” I ask, sitting down in a chair, pulling out my cookie from the Lard Have Mercy bag in my hand.

  “It is, but my pants were about five inches too short so now they’re going to rush this. Nothing is going as planned.” Having a brother who had to take the reins of a family when I was younger means it’s not a mystery when he’s stressed.

  “I heard about the dress.” I take a bite of the cookie and take a moment to admire its chewy goodness.

  Austin stares at me quizzingly in the reflection of the mirror.

  I hold up the bag of the diner his soon-to-be mother-in-law works at.

  He nods in understanding. “The dry cleaner thinks they can get it out, but damn she was a mess.”

  “And then your team made state?”

  He nods in the mirror, widening his legs farther. “Yeah, that sucks, too. Plus, I have the whole issue of her dad.”

  I finish my cookie and crumple the bag into a ball. “What do you need me to do? Put Savannah in a restraining jacket during the ceremony?”

  He chuckles. Thank God, I’ve always tried to be his comic relief ever since our parents died.

  “Denver,” another man who works there calls out. He has a tuxedo in his hand, so I suppose I’m supposed to try it on.

  I stand but turn around when I hear the bell above the door ring. In walks Rome. “Rome!” I boom.

  “Jack’s right behind me and Kingston texted me to say he’s running five minutes late.” He sits down in the chair I just vacated. “Looking good, big bro.” He puts his ankle on his opposite knee.

  Sometimes I’m envious of my brother. He’s my twin and left me behind to live his life with Harley. The whole thing happened so fast I worried I’d never find my place in this new life of his. But Harley’s great. And the fact that I have a niece and a nephew to spoil, and thereby piss off their parents, is a great bonus.

  But we’re so much alike I wonder what made him switch gears so fast and whether I should consider doing the same. Even Liam keeps denying my invites to go out and drink. I’ve brought only a couple of girls home since Savannah’s been there and you’d think I erased Excel from her computer. It didn’t help that when I woke up the next day, one of them was in her panties and cami making breakfast for Liam. Sav did not like that.

  “We were just discussing a straitjacket for Savannah,” I fill Rome in.

  “This is about Holly’s dad, right?”

  “Yeah,” Austin says with dread in his tone.

  “I was there that night,” Rome says. “I’m not sure a straitjacket would work. I mean, she had murder in her eyes.”

  I laugh, but I’m the only one. It makes me feel immature.

  I head into the change room to try my tux on and step out a few minutes later. It fits like a glove. Perfect.

  “Looks good,” the man helping Austin says, eyeing me up and down. “You go and take it off,” he tells Austin.

  We exchange places while Jack walks in with his Hammer Time Hardware t-shirt on. He’s been a good friend of Austin’s through the years and is another guy who’s now gotten married and is expecting his second kid or something. It’s hard to keep up.

  “You now.” A woman points to Rome and sends him in. We’re like a merry-go-round. Austin comes out later in his regular clothes and instantly starts talking to Jack about the state tournament and who they should start as pitcher.

  “Perfect,” the man says to me, not having to make one alteration.

  “Did you hear that, boys? Perfect.” I twirl around with a John Travolta move from Saturday Night Fever.

  None of them seem impressed. Austin’s rambling on and on about the baseball thing. I’m not sure why he doesn’t tell Holly he can’t go on their honeymoon. They’re teachers. Well, he is and she’s a principal, they have the entire summer to go to Hawaii. I don’t get it.

  On my way down the hall to get changed, the door chime rings again and in walks Wyatt, Kingston, and Liam. Thank God because they might’ve missed the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I just spotted Rome coming out of the changing room with his tux on. Shit, my phone is back in the changing room.

  “Aust, grab your phone, man.” I nudge him.

  Rome looks like a prisoner as he walks down the short hallway from the changing rooms to the three-way mirror.

  “No need. I got this.” Liam pulls out his phone.

  “I’ll be back-up,” Kingston follows behind.

  “Put that shit away. They mismeasured or some shit,” Rome grumbles.

  His pants are bulging at the waist and the button looks like it might pop off. The shirt is pulling with the buttons barely keeping it closed and giving us a glimpse of his non-flat stomach.

  “No. No. You were the same as your brother.” The woman looks through some paperwork in her hand.

  “Step up,” the man says and there’s Rome looking like the tuxedo shrunk in a dryer.

  “You look like the Hulk right before all his clothes pop off,” Kingston says, sitting down on the coffee table, snapping pictures. “I’m so Snapchatting this shit.”

  Rome turns around and tries to grab the phone, but Kingston is faster and slides out of his way.

  “You’ve got reflexes like Grandma Dori’s side piece now.” Kingston laughs.

  “Grandma Dori doesn’t have a side piece,” I say.

  “She’s got that guy two doors down. I’m telling you, something is going on there.”

  I roll my eyes, Kingston sees jack shit.

  “It’s like that fat-man-in-a-tiny-suit skit Farley did on Saturday
Night Live,” Liam says.

  I’m buckled over laughing and Rome’s flipping us off in the mirror.

  “My fiancée has been pregnant, I’m a chef who has to taste his dishes and I can’t fuck to expel any calories for six damn weeks. So piss off!” His face is all red and angry.

  We all just laugh harder.

  “Six weeks?” Wyatt asks. We all turn and look at him because of the surprise in his voice, which makes us all wonder. When our gaze turns his way, he rolls his eyes. “She’s not pregnant.”

  We all sigh in unison.

  “It goes by fast,” Jack says.

  “You don’t understand, I like sex. A lot. So does Harley. Now I’m restricted to my hand like I’m back in high school.” He holds it out and stares at it. “I’m getting calluses.”

  “Join Liam’s club,” I say.

  “What’s this?” Kingston asks, still snapping pictures of Rome.

  “He’s practically celibate. Doesn’t ever go out since Sav moved in.”

  “That’s not true,” Liam plays it off.

  The woman points to Kingston to tell him to go try his tux on. “Sorry, I gotta hear this. Jack?”

  “He’s busy,” Austin says, probably still waiting to discuss baseball with him.

  “I’ll go.” Wyatt volunteers because he’s getting sex on the regular as disgusting as that thought is.

  “Why don’t you go out?” Kingston asks Liam.

  I lean against the counter, snickering to myself.

  “You start this shit on purpose.” Liam points in my direction and I get the feeling that I should be on the look-out for saran wrap over the toilet or being woken up to the sound of clanking pots and pans at his place from now on.

  I glance around the room. “All her brothers are here. Let’s get this out in the open.”

  The light mood fades away. Rome stops the man from fussing with his tux and all eyes fall to Liam.

  He swallows so deep, his Adam’s apple bobs hard. “Shut the fuck up, Denver. I’m being polite. It’s called being a gentleman.”