by Linda Oaks
“Really, Kara?” he asked, spurring me on. It was then my control slipped a notch, and I whirled around to face him once more. For a second, he appeared as if he was wounded by my remark, but then his expression shifted. The cold mask, which I’d become accustomed to, settled swiftly back in place. His handsome face regarding me as if I were a stranger. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my expression neutral. Physically, it hurt me to look at him.
“No, not really, Devon,” I replied truthfully, delivering my parting shot with the upmost accuracy, intending to hurt him. Escape was all I could think of and quickly turned away before he had the chance to reply. I didn’t want to talk to him anymore, or his bitch for that matter. She brushed past me wearing a silver dress, eyeing me with disdain. She could have him for all I cared. If Devon could throw away my love so carelessly, he deserved someone who appeared to be as shallow as he was. I’d given him my heart, and he’d crushed it beneath the heel of his boot just as casually as if he were crushing out the cherry from a cigarette. I was through torturing myself. There had to be at least one single, straight guy here tonight somewhere amongst this crowd. It was time to have a little fun, and time for me to leave the past where it belonged… behind me.
“We’re over here,” Jake said, sneaking up on me, as I stood paused beside a table scanning the crowd.
Relief surged through me. At that moment, I could have hugged him. There were so many people here. “Thank God, you found me,” I told him, and he smiled warmly, noting my relieved expression.
Jake had loosened his tie, his sleeves were rolled up, and he’d removed his jacket. His tattoos were on display for the whole world to see. Jake didn’t care what anyone thought of him. He was confident in who he was and definitely hunk material. I could see why my best friend had fallen head over heels for him. Plus, he was a sweetheart.
“You missed the cake.” He informed me, and I frowned knowing that Brandon would never let me hear the end of it. Shit, I thought, mentally kicking myself in the ass. I shouldn’t have stopped for gas. I should have come straight here.
“Where are Brandon and Cal?” I asked, knowing I would have to apologize and beg their forgiveness. Cal wouldn’t make a fuss, but Brandon was another story.
“Over there.” Jake motioned toward a boisterous crowd that was dancing. It was then that I spotted the tops of Brandon and Cal’s heads among them. “Come on. I promised Addie lemonade.” Jake explained with a smile. He held up a champagne flute filled with lemonade.
“This one’s for you,” he said, then handed me the flute of bubbly, pale pink champagne. I laughed, and he stared at me strangely. This was the first glimpse of pink I’d seen the entire night. Pink was my color. This had to be a sign that the night was not a complete and utter loss.
“Is Brandon pissed?” I asked, mentally cringing at the thought of a pissed off Brandon while following after Jake through the crowd. He didn’t answer, but the music was so loud I could barely hear myself think. In a far corner, I spotted Addie sitting at a table talking to Shelley Winters. Even among the crowd, I don’t know how I could have missed her. Addie had that undeniable glow. It was as plain as the nose on my face now that I knew she had a bun in the oven. I was thrilled for her and Jake. It was the best news I’d received all night.
“Hi, Shelley,” I said upon them noticing our arrival.
Jake handed Addie her flute of lemonade and bent down to brush a tender kiss across her forehead. A painful ache tugged at my heart. I longed for my own version of what they had. I wasn’t jealous of my best friend. Well maybe just a little, but I wanted that too. That one person who would look at me as if I’d hung the moon. If I didn’t get over Devon McGraw, my prince charming would probably slip right past my nose unnoticed.
“Brandon’s pissed,” Addie reported, glancing over her shoulder in his and Cal’s direction. Brandon would just have to get over it, I thought angrily. There wasn’t anything worse than a pissed off Brandon. I couldn’t help it because I was a little late. First, we had gotten held up at the church, and then it was either stop for gas or risk the chance of coasting in on fumes and not making the reception at all. The entire world and all of its cosmos didn’t revolve around Brandon Mulligan’s bubble. He needed to cut me some slack. By even occupying the same space as Devon, I was doing him a huge favor. The way I saw it… he owed me.
“He’ll be all right. I’ll just lie and say that I was in the bathroom,” I told Addie, she and Shelley both burst out laughing. He probably wouldn’t even notice one tiny little fib.
“You’re evil, Kara,” Addie said, giggling. “That’s a great idea.”
I smirked, taking a sip of my champagne. “I’m glad you approve, Maestro.”
We chatted with Shelley while Jake worked his way back to the bar for refills. After my second glass of champagne, I began to relax and no longer caught myself trying to catch glimpses of Devon.
“Who is that woman with Devon?” Shelley asked, pinpointing a subject I wished was not up for discussion. She discretely pointed to a table across the room, and I found my eyes following the direction of her finger.
“Blair Simms,” Addie and I said simultaneously.
I was unable to disguise my sneer. My eyes narrowed as I stared at the stunning brunette in the silver dress. Was I bitter? Hell yes, I was bitter. It couldn’t be helped; I was a woman scorned. Jake and Addie looked at one another as if trying to gage my state of mind. At one point in time, I would have clocked a bitch for looking at my man. Sometimes I missed the girl I’d once been, but she’d grown up to face the harsh reality of life. Sometimes, there wasn’t a happily ever after. There’s just the cold hard truth, and it made for a lousy companion.
“I always thought you two would be together forever,” Shelley murmured as if reminiscing then flushed when she realized what she’d said out loud. “I’m sorry, Kara.”
I shrugged my shoulders as if it were no big deal and intended to head to the bar anyway for another refill. I wouldn’t let her know how much losing Devon still hurt me. “It’s okay, Shelley. Life doesn’t always work out the way we expect. If you’ll excuse me?”
Jake stood as I did. I smiled at him since he was forever the consummate gentleman. Addie’s anxious eyes met mine. “It’s all right.” I mouthed and turned away from the table, working my way through the crowd and making a beeline straight for the bar.
My whole body tingled. I could sense Devon’s eyes following after me. The man loved to torture me. When I was almost to the bar, from out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Brandon. He was approaching fast. In his black tuxedo, he looked like an avenging angel. There would be hell to pay, I could tell by his expression. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the reckoning and smiled.
“Where were you, Kara? You did not miss the cutting of the cake?” He asked, frowning.
He practically ruffled with indignation like an angry bird. I reached up and patted his smoothly shaved cheek, but he grabbed a hold of my hand staring me down through narrowed eyes. “Of course not, Brandon. I had to go to the little girl’s room. I was standing just inside the door whenever you and Cal cut the cake. It was beautiful. ” He studied my face. His eyes were mere slits, and I sensed his bullshit detector was probably dinging at high alert. I was so screwed.
His shoulders relaxed, and I sighed in relief. He smiled, shaking his head. His blue eyes twinkled. “You wouldn’t lie to your best friend would you, Kara Lisette Thorn?”
“Never,” I replied, thinking I would split hell wide open. It was better this way. Eventually, I would tell him the truth… but not tonight.
“I love you,” he stated, smiling happily back at me. He leaned in and his lips brushed my cheek. A token of affection from Brandon was rare. He’d always acted as if I’d had cooties.
“How much have you had to drink?” I asked, smiling as I rubbed a trail of moisture from my cheek. He’d slobbered on me, but if I called him out on it… he would ha
ve a hissy fit. Brandon was classy like that.
“Did you just rub off my sugar?” He teased. I pushed him away, grabbed his hand, and dragged him with me to the bar.
I was just about to help myself to a tall glass of champagne from one of the silver trays when Brandon motioned for the bartender. “Let’s do shots,” he suggested, and I was shaking my head no at him since I already had a pretty good buzz. I couldn’t be held accountable for my actions if we started doing shots. It was a bad idea.
“Come on, Kara. It’s my wedding day,” He whined, which was so unlike him. Brandon didn’t whine. “I want to do shots with you. Anyway, I’m pretty sure you just lied to me.” He stated and managed to look slightly offended. I decided the easiest way to deal with this approaching fiasco was just to do a shot with him.
“Okay, Brandon. One shot.” I told him, giving in. He turned and asked the bartender for four shots instead of two. What the hell?
“Brandon,” I warned, since I’d already indulged in two glasses of champagne on an empty stomach. First rule of drinking; never drink on an empty stomach. Brandon gently chucked his knuckles under my chin. He already had firsthand knowledge that tequila and I were not the best of friends.
“Quit being such a party pooper! We’re here to have a fucking good time, Kara. Now drink your fucking shots, and let’s go dance our fucking asses off.” He ordered, ignoring any protest I may have muttered.
I couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst. Yep, Brandon was drunk and about to get a whole lot drunker. Cal would definitely have his hands full tonight in more ways than one, I thought with a snide smile. “I promise,” Brandon said, marking an exaggerated x over his heart. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? You’re at my wedding reception. You need to chill. You’re among friends. Me casa es su casa.”
I laughed, as he pushed the shot toward me wearing a sloppy grin. A tingle darted up my spine and I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes instantly honing in on Devon. He smiled, discretely saluting me with a glass of what appeared to be filled with bourbon or whiskey. Why could I not get away from this man tonight?
Quickly I looked away, picking up the shot glass. I needed to let loose and have a good time. Nothing bad was going to happen. Brandon had promised, and he always kept his promises. “On the count of three,” I said, and Brandon downed his drink before I had even begun to count. That asshole!
“Cheater.” I declared. He smiled back at me watching as I drained my glass. The burn was instantaneous, and I winced, feeling the liquid settle into the pit of my stomach. Brandon snorted and pushed the other glass in front of me. I hated the taste of tequila. It made no sense to me as to why I would even drink the stuff. Immediately I grabbed the next shot from the bar and drained it as I heard Brandon cackle and slam his own glass back down on the bar a second later.
“Let’s go shake a tail feather.” Brandon ordered with a smile and grabbed my hand. I followed after him, somehow miraculously managing to stay upright in my heels. Finally, I lost sight of Devon. I didn’t think I could stand to look at him much longer anyway. Tonight, I wanted to pretend he didn’t exist. As a server passed by, I grabbed a champagne flute from his tray and took a sip in order to rid myself of the nasty lingering taste in my mouth.
Cal and two other couples had managed to form a small circle within the crowd. They were laughing and dancing. I drained my glass, placed it on a nearby table, and smiled apologetically at the couple sitting there for interrupting them. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember why I’d been so hesitant about the tequila. I was as light as a feather. In fact, I think this was probably the best idea Brandon had had all night.
CHAPTER THREE
AS SOON AS MY EYES opened, my first thought was, “Where in the hell am I?” This definitely wasn’t my old room at my mom’s house. There were no posters on the walls, and… why was I buck-naked?
I groaned, feeling as if a sledgehammer had been let loose inside my head and was currently under construction. My brain hurt to think. I was sure my breath was rancid since my tongue felt as thick as a wad of dirty, used cotton. Cracking one eye partially opened, I winced and grabbed my head with both hands. It hurt like a son of a bitch! My hair was dried to my cheek. It seems that Brandon wasn’t only one who’d been slobbering last night. I pressed a hand to my stomach, willing that nauseated feeling to pass, when I heard the creek of a door opening.
“If you turn on that light, I will murder you,” I croaked, my throat scratchy.
“Well, good morning to you too, slugger,” Brandon cheerfully stated, and I opened my eyes to find him standing in the doorway. He wore a pair of gray jogging pants and a white T-shirt. His spikey blonde hair was damp from a recent shower, and he was grinning from ear to ear at me. “I come bearing a gift for my queen,” he joked, walking to the bed and handing me a Gatorade.
“I’m dying.” I muttered pitifully and scooted over on the mattress so Brandon could sit down beside me on the edge of the bed. “Why am I naked?” I asked horrified, holding the sheet and blanket to my chest as I sat up in the bed and leaned back against the headboard. Oh shit, please tell me I did not strip for Cal and Brandon! Or anyone else at the wedding for that matter! Although, it is not likely they would have cared anyway.
“That was all you, baby,” Brandon smirked. “I only removed your heels and unzipped your dress. You were comatose when Cal and I left you. I made sure to prop you. I didn’t think there was any chance of you drowning in your own puke since you heaved for a straight hour after we brought you home last night.”
Ugh, I was so embarrassed! That’s what that horrible taste was in my mouth. Taking a sip of Gatorade, I noticed my left hand was sore. Wincing, I flexed my fingers and made a fist. “What happened?” I asked, since I didn’t remember a damn thing. One moment, I’d been dancing, and then poof — all memory of the events there afterwards were a blur.
Brandon was practically beside himself laughing and shaking his head. “It was epic,” he gushed. “My and Cal’s reception will go down as the best wedding reception ever in the history of wedding receptions. You don’t remember anything?” He asked, eyeing me curiously.
I shook my head, grabbing it as a sudden bolt of pain shot across my forehead. “Nada. Zip. Nothing,” I stated, frowning. God, it even hurts to frown. “You promised, Brandon?” I whined.
He patted my leg with brotherly affection. “I kept my promise, Kara. Otherwise… you would’ve woken up in Devon’s bed this morning. I didn’t think you’d have been too happy about that one.”
“Devon’s bed?” I muttered and winced as I tried to shake my head. God, I must stop moving. Looking up I noticed Brandon’s sympathetic grin.
“It’s not as bad as you think. Well, it probably is.” Brandon joked at my expense, and I shoved my hip against his trying to push him off of the bed. I was so mad at myself and mad at Brandon. Damn it! “Calm down, Kara.”
“Spill your guts, Mulligan!” I ordered, shooting him an evil glare. But before he could even say another word… Cal walked in.
“She lives,” he joked, his handsome face breaking into a grin. He was also dressed similarly to Brandon, except he still sported a bad case of the bed head. Stubble darkened his lower jaw, and there was a bluish, purple bruise right in the middle of his square chin.
“What happened to you?” I asked curiously, and Brandon started rolling with laughter while Cal looked slightly uncomfortable.
“You clocked him,” Brandon informed me. His eyes danced mischievously as they drifted from me to Cal.
“Seriously, you’ve got a pretty good left hook,” Cal stated, still smiling and rubbing his bruised chin.
There was no way I would hit Cal. Would I? “Did I really hit you?” I asked him, unable to believe such a thing and horrified at the thought since I loved him and Brandon like brothers. There was no way I could physically hurt either one of them, could I?
Before Cal a
nswered, Brandon spoke up. “You thought he was picking on Devon.”
“What?” I gasped. Hell would freeze over before I’d defend Devon McGraw. What in the world did Brandon mean? This wasn’t grade school. Knowing the way I felt about Devon, I’d let Cal beat his ass from here to next Sunday. I wouldn’t defend him, especially after the shitty way he’d treated me in the past. “Really?” I asked, feeling so confused. What in the hell had actually happened last night?
Cal nodded his head confirming Brandon’s words. He wore a sympathetic grin. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, Kara, I’m not mad at you. I just can’t believe I didn’t see it coming,” Cal said, shaking his head. “Listen, while the two of you catch up, I’m gonna hit the shower. I already made breakfast.” He glanced from me to Brandon. “We have a plane to catch in three hours.”
“I’m sorry, Cal,” I called after him as he started for the door.
“It’s all good, Kara. No biggie,” he yelled over his shoulder and disappeared down the hall.
I poked Brandon hard in the side and heard him gasp. “Shit fire, Kara,” he muttered, rubbing his injured side and staring at me hatefully. “That hurt.”
I was so tired of the look he was giving me. “Spill your guts!” I ordered sternly. I was sick of him beating around the bush. I laughed at the thought and instantly regretted it since my head almost exploded. Brandon eyed me strangely.