by Cindi Madsen
Chapter Sixteen
The good thing about being crazy busy was I didn’t have much time to think about my hot roommate or my also hot, maybe not-so-exed fiancé. The bad thing was, I kinda missed hanging out with my hot roommate. Not that I didn’t miss my other guy. Not that they were my guys.
Okay, I think I fried my brain. Which means I need coffee to jump-start it.
I strode to the kitchen, risking heels for the first time in a week. As long as I was careful, I should be fine. I opened the coffee bag and inhaled, hoping it’d help me be awake enough to get it into liquid form.
Cool air came in from the open sliding door. Within an hour it’d be stifling again, which, don’t get me wrong, I liked, but the hint of cool was nice. When I got to the window for a closer look at the morning light, I caught sight of a whole lot more than I bargained for. Brendan was shirtless, shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips, sweat glistening on his skin.
He must’ve just gotten back from his morning run. He tossed a tennis ball across the yard, the lean muscles in his back flexing under tan skin, and Cupid charged after it. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away, and I was pretty sure I was drooling at least as much as, if not more than, my dog.
Apparently I needed to be busier. Good thing I had a wedding to put on.
As if he could sense me, Brendan glanced back at me and waved.
The jolt in my gut was more powerful than the caffeinated beverage I was waiting on could ever be. Words weren’t forming, so I simply lifted my hand and smiled.
“Come on, Cupid,” Brendan called. “I gotta get ready for work.”
Cupid darted past me, the yellow ball in his mouth. Brendan was much slower, taking up the entire doorway before I realized that I should—duh—move out of the way so he could come inside.
I busied myself by grabbing a couple of mugs out of the cupboard. “Coffee?”
“Later.” He poured himself a glass of water, and while logically I was sure he was just drinking it, it seemed like he was slow-motion drinking. “You’ve got a wedding today, right?”
Yes. The wedding. Good distraction. “Yeah, and the bride wants her cat to be the ring bearer, so I’m at Code Fuchsia already.”
He leaned against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other, his chest still gloriously naked. In order to maintain cognitive thought, I focused on his face. But then I was noticing the stubble forming on his jaw, how the blond caught the light, and the tiny mole next to his nose. The dark brown eyes.
“Code Fuchsia?” he asked, and it took me a second to realize I’d brought it up, and that of course he didn’t know what it meant.
“It s-started as a joke,” I stuttered. “For bridal meltdowns. Like the terror code alert, but fancier colors. The brighter the color, the more dire the situation. It sorta seeped into my daily life, too. I even color code my to-do list. Keeps me on top of the high-action items.”
He nodded like it wasn’t an odd thing to do, but his twitching mouth said he was fighting the urge to mock me for it. “So what’s under fuchsia?”
“The full code is actually Fanatic Fuchsia, Temperamental Tangerine, Wary Canary, Cautious Cobalt, down all the way to Low-Key Lime. Although sometimes Lime is just a level of shock that appears low-key but is masking Tangerine or even Fuchsia. ”
“No purple?” Definitely mocking me now, a sexy smile curving his lips.
“Not on the code scale, but there’s Purple Passion of course. So something I or my bride care a lot about, but there’s not the meltdown factor involved. It’s more like good job, there’s some Purple Passion going on over there.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe I just told you all of that.”
“I can’t believe I’ve missed out on Purple Passion all my life.” The mockery in his expression faded as he looked at me. His throat worked a swallow, his eyes darkened and—I could have sworn—dropped to my lips.
Oh holy crap. I gripped my mug like a lifeline, taking shallow breaths to calm my spiking heart rate. “So. Yeah. Code Fuchsia is happening today. I’m cursed with animals, and I don’t trust a fluffy ring bearer.”
Cupid barked, making me jump. Coffee sloshed over my cup, onto my hands. I hadn’t even realized my dog had come back in the room. “Not you, Cupid. You’re perfectly trustworthy.”
He wagged his tail, apparently satisfied with my compliment. Brendan grabbed a paper towel and squatted down, dabbing at the coffee on the floor. He glanced at my feet, and I was acutely aware of my bare legs.
His eyebrows drew together—not the reaction I was hoping for. Not that I was hoping for one, but no girl wants her gams to be frowned at. “Heels?”
Oh. That. “Baby heels. My ankle’s fine, I swear.” I wiggled my foot to prove it. “I have spare ballet flats if I need them. You know me. Always prepared.”
He straightened, so close now that I could feel the warmth radiating off him. He smelled like sunshine and dude, with a side of take-me-now.
Great, now I’m at Purple Passion. Nothing says ready to wed like a horny wedding planner. “I’d better get going,” I said, embarrassed at how breathy my voice came out.
Brendan caught my hand as I started to turn. He gave it a quick squeeze. “Good luck with your fuchsia situation.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes. But with an animal curse on the line, my optimism is at Code White. Aka, nonexistent.”
GET READY TO WED by Dakota Halifax
Dogs, Horses, and Birds, Oh My!
Now, a quick word about involving animals in your wedding. Think of an infant, about a year old, running through your wedding, tugging on tablecloths and pulling off centerpieces. That’s about the same thing as having animals present for your special day. Only their parents won’t stop them. (Parents of small children, you really should stop them.) I’m just letting you know that when you invite animals in, you’re also inviting chaos whether you mean to or not.
Horses kick, run, and try to eat the flowers; cats hiss, claw, and run through cakes—they also get tortured by those children whose parents aren’t watching them—and dogs bark and feel the need to mark everything. Next thing you know, you’ve got pee at every table and surprises that need scooping up. Is that romance in the air? No, it’s much smellier and totally unwelcome. Releasing doves at weddings, while romantic, also comes with a side of—well, you know. You’ve seen the nasty white globs on your windshield, so think twice about it. Those flamingos you think will add “flavor” to your big day? They don’t always like humans in their space, and those beaks aren’t just for decoration. They’re really better left strutting around the wildlife habitat at the Flamingo where they have experts to take care of them in their own reserved space. Animals are an unpredictable variable that can cause the most planned to turn into the most hectic.
Is that Roscoe scratching at the door, begging to be let in? You better go get him. I know you’re not listening anyway and you want him to be in your wedding. It’s okay. You’re the bride and you want what you want. I understand and I’ll try to help you anyway. Just try to be as understanding when even I can’t control what your hairy family member does on your special, now-more-hectic day.
…
Maybe I’d cursed myself. Maybe optimism would’ve prevented this. And maybe that tree branch would hold my weight.
Maybes were so much fun, no?
I’d abandoned my shoes, hiked up my skirt, and shinnied up the tree after the fluffy ring bearer who was hell-bent on making my job impossible. They say curiosity killed the cat. Right now, I was thinking she should be more scared of me. Why didn’t I own a tranq gun? Why hadn’t I thought of it before? Clearly an oversight on my part.
On top of that fun, Waverly, the bridezilla of all bridezillas, decided this morning that she should’ve gotten a white limo to drive away from the ceremony, and that no respectable wedding was without one. Had she expressed this desire before, I could’ve had one lined up. As it was, I’d managed to get a black limo scheduled, but it was going to
cost twice as much, and the father of the bride decided I was trying to price gouge him.
Yes, all price-gouging wedding planners climb after Pookie when she darts up a tree. All part of the service that not enough money in the world would cover—especially if I exposed my underwear to everyone in the near vicinity. I told myself the same thing I did when Brendan was frowning at my heels as he cleaned up the spilled coffee this morning, close enough to be able to look up my skirt—at least I’d worn my sexy, ironically enough, purple underwear today. Although truth be told, I didn’t want anyone to actually see it while I was in a tree.
Since I was starting to wish Pookie a horribly awful fate, I took a couple of deep breaths and pictured myself climbing down with the cat, both of us unharmed, and the perfect wedding that’d follow. Hey, I was nothing if not a fast learner, and I might as well put my anger management class tips to use.
“Dakota?”
Clinging on to a nearby branch, I searched the ground for Jillian.
“How’s it going?” she asked, humor filling her words.
“Great. Just fancied a climb before the day’s activities. Also, that white furball over there has the rings. Waverly got the creature when she was eleven, and while it’s ancient in cat years and pretended it could hardly walk, it suddenly decided to shoot up the tree when the florist arrived.”
“Ah, the curse. What a bitch.” I wasn’t sure if she meant the curse or the cat, but both seemed especially bitch-like right now. Jillian glanced from me to the cat, probably calculating the distance between us. “Fire department?”
“I was hoping to avoid it, but I’m afraid Pookie and I are at a stalemate.” Honestly, she was ahead, what with her ability to balance on a tiny branch and claws for support, but I had too much pride to admit that. “Come on you little piece of—”
“Is she okay?” Theresa, the mother of the bride, peeked up through the branches. Her hair was in curlers and she was wearing a long silk robe.
“She’s great.” Until I get my hands on her. “Did you bring the food?”
The woman held up a can and the fishy scent was strong enough I was sure the cat could smell it. Its ears twitched and then she mewed and turned away.
“I was afraid of that. She just ate. And once she settles into a place, even Waverly can’t coax her out.” Theresa clutched her robe closed with one hand. “If Waverly hears she got out of the house, even after she specifically told me to watch her—and that she’s up the tree… Well, you know how high-strung she is. She’s been freaking out about everything this morning.”
“I’m totally on it,” I said, careful to not remark on her high-strung statement either way—I’d learned that could come back to bite you if you weren’t careful. “Just go make sure everything’s on track with her, and I’ll have the cat down in no time.”
Theresa went back inside and I eyed the cat. She was only a couple feet out of reach, curled at the base of a skinny branch. If I could just… I clamped on to the branch above and inched forward, but froze when I heard a crack. No dice. I looked down at Jillian.
“On it,” she said.
“Ask for Larry Donovan, and tell him Dakota Halifax needs him.” His son had been one of my dad’s players several years ago, and he’d become a family friend, which rarely happens when it comes to a kid and their coach dynamic. But he and Dad had risen above all that, and he’d helped me out before. Speedy and nice were his specialty. Plus he’d have gloves, whereas I did not, and I preferred my skin without the claw marks I was sure to get if I actually got a hold of the cat. At this point, I was hoping the rings around her ribboned neck would simply fall off, so worst-case scenario we could go on with the ceremony.
But this was the animal curse we were talking about, so I wasn’t going to hold my breath. I managed to get out of the tree semi-gracefully. My almost healed ankle throbbed, so there went that. And hey, if it turned purple, at least I’d match the lilac and mint wedding colors.
…
Twenty minutes till start, the chairs in the reception hall were filled, and the cat was still up the damn tree. After I’d climbed down, it’d gone a few feet higher and caught the silver ribbon around its neck on a sawed-off branch. Not enough to get it to come loose—apparently Teresa had tied it tight so the rings wouldn’t come off. So now there was the fear the kitty would cause itself harm, and while I wasn’t exactly fond of the cat, I didn’t want that either.
But all of this was on the DL, qualified as Things the Bride Doesn’t Need to Know Right Now.
Waverly glanced away from her reflection as I entered the room. “Can you believe I’m finally getting married? I’ve waited for this day for so long!”
It was one of the weddings where I was counting down with the bride, mostly because I needed it to be over. The last month with all of my extra drama had made it even more difficult than it should’ve been. Some clients were impossible to make happy, and Waverly was one of them.
“You look amazing,” I assured her, pinning up the train of the dress so it wouldn’t drag and catch before she made it to the aisle. I almost asked her if she needed anything else, but for once in my life I bit off the question. I was tapped at what I could handle, and if those firemen didn’t show up soon…
I caught a flash of red out the window. Speak of the yellow-coated heroes. My phone vibrated with a text from Jillian, telling me the firemen had arrived. And that one of them was “all kinds of sexy.”
Which worked out, because I was so relieved, I wanted to kiss them. “I’ll be back in a few to make last-minute checks and then we’ll be good to go.” I pulled the curtains that overlooked the front yard with the tree, shot a meaningful glance at Theresa so she’d know to continue keeping Waverly happy and distracted, and then left them in the room, closing the door behind me.
There was no time to fake nonchalance, so I sprinted down the stairs and out the front door. “Hey, Halifax,” Larry said, slapping me on the back, the way he always greeted me. Apparently daughter of a coach meant treated like a sports player.
I explained the cat sitch and the time crunch. “Bonus points if we get him down within the next ten minutes and the wedding can start on time.”
“Antonio will go up.”
Antonio flashed me a smile—dark hair, bronze skin, and a strong dimpled chin. Even stronger physique. There was general attraction, of course, but not anything that had me tempted to flirt with the guy. In fact, my mind went to Brendan this morning, shirtless and playing with my dog.
Heat pooled low in my stomach. I thought of him in my kitchen, teasing me about my color codes. I bit my lip, allowing myself a moment to indulge in a scenario where I’d run my hands across his skin and he’d pull me to him and kiss me, long and deep, before wishing me good luck with the wedding.
Wedding.
I straightened my shirt because in my imagination, that kiss would’ve definitely rumpled it. “You guys got this?”
Antonio was already heading up the ladder; Larry nodded at me. “We’ll have ’er down in five.”
Five minutes. I knew I didn’t have much time, yet I found myself pulling out my phone. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, just that I wanted to hear his voice.
“You’re never going to guess what happened,” I said when Brendan picked up. By the time I’d relayed the cat story, with him laughing the entire time, the culprit was down, nice and subdued in the fireman’s arms. “Okay, I gotta go.”
“See you tonight,” Brendan said, and I couldn’t help replaying that imaginary kiss one more time.
…
I hung out in the kitchen area, helping Jillian, since she’d helped me earlier. “Speaking of the only animal that didn’t cause me problems at the wedding, what was in the chicken? It was amazing.”
“A new cream and white wine sauce I’m trying.”
“I’m now recommending it to all my wedding parties, just so I get to eat it.”
“One of the groomsmen asked me out,” Jillian said.
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“Which one?”
Her eyes were glued to the pot in her hand, scrubbing extra hard though it was already shiny silver. “The best man.”
I wrinkled my nose. “The one who made that awful toast?”
Jillian rolled her eyes. “I knew you were going to bring that up. So he’s not the best at wedding toasts.”
“He actually said, ‘I hope you guys are happy and stuff. I’m sure it’s going to last longer than his last wedding.’”
Jillian winced and then put her eye-blindingly shiny pot into one of the rubber supply bins she’d brought with her. “But you saw how cute he is, right? I think he was just nervous. And it’s been a while since I was on a date. I usually just say no to groomsmen, but he didn’t ask for tonight. He asked me out for the weekend.”
“That does show promise, and he is cute. Have fun and stuff on the date.” I shot her an extra wide grin. “I’m sure it’ll last longer than your last one.”
Jillian smacked me with a towel, but she was laughing.
I stacked a few of the clean dishes and put them in her other bin. “It’s not like I can really talk about who to date or not, anyway. I’m considering a guy who didn’t show up to our own wedding because he claims he still loves me, while having conflicting feelings about my super-hot roommate, who I happened to see shirtless this morning, and all I can really say about it is damn.”
“Two guys to choose from? If that’s your Poor Me speech, it needs serious work.”
“I’ll add a few sob stories later. Or maybe I’ll just wait and see what Phoebe says about me in the paper.” I hefted the bin so I could take it to her van. We loaded the last of the supplies with the help of her staff, and then said our good-byes.
I’d just gotten in my car when my dad called. We exchanged pleasantries, and when he asked if I’d found a new apartment yet, a subject that I’d accidentally on purpose avoided—easy enough since I hadn’t talked to him since I’d moved—I decided it was time to come clean.
“I’m, uh, kinda sorta living with Brendan West now.”