by Hazel Kelly
Then again, maybe he thought it would be more skeevy.
I mean, he did bend me over and lick my snatch from behind. I’m not sure I’d want to get naked with anyone ever again if I’d been subjected to that kind of view.
But on the night, it seemed he enjoyed it. And if he didn’t, he was a truly fine actor and his talents were wasted being a club mogul.
Regardless, part of me was hoping that after a loved up ceremony and a few too many drinks, something might happen. Because the gig was up tomorrow. So if I ever wanted to have Ben Abbott all to myself again, tonight had to be the night.
But there was the issue of how strong to come on. I was supposed to be his pretend girlfriend, not his pretend sorority slut… though if he were up for a bit more role playing…
Who was I trying to kid? I’d probably do anything the guy asked me to do. I could barely control my tongue when he was around, much less my body and my urges.
I leaned back in my chair and watched Ella squeeze her eyes shut so her maid of honor, Jackie, could douse her in hairspray again.
It was only then that I realized I’d never ended up deciding on a hairstyle for my own big day.
Ella had hers in a pretty pile on her head with a few loose tendrils around her face. To be honest, I don’t think she could’ve looked any more beautiful.
She was also wearing a diamond necklace- Tiffany’s Majestic Diamond necklace, apparently. It was probably the only thing I’d ever seen that was as sparkly as the ocean on a sunny day.
But she was the only one in the room wearing bigger diamonds than I was. Which I guess was appropriate, seeing as how I was the supposed girlfriend of the groom’s son.
Still, despite how much I loved the weight and sparkle of them, I wasn’t sure how I felt yet about accepting them as a gift.
I mean, where the hell was the line anymore? I swear I could feel Brook shaking her head at me.
If I would accept expensive gifts from him- and sleep with him- what did that make me?
An escort?
A prostitute?
Not a respectable businesswoman that’s for damn sure.
Besides, it’s not like I had to carry him across the Andes or something. So I hardly deserved a tip.
All I had to do was flirt a little and pretend I only had eyes for him, which I was keen to do anyway.
“So how did you know he was The One?” one of the other bridesmaids asked Ella. From what I gathered, she was Ella’s cousin and the only one besides me who hadn’t spent much time with the groom.
Ella smiled. “Well it wasn’t like I already knew what I liked based on the other guys I’d dated.”
A few of the girls laughed, probably on account of being well versed in Ella’s relationship history. I smiled politely so as not to stick out, though I was genuinely pleased to hear that even a girl like her might’ve had to kiss few frogs before she found her prince.
“So what was it?” the cousin asked again, pushing some tightly wound curls away from her face with a flat palm. “Besides the fact that he’s beyond eligible.”
Ella shrugged. “I think he just gets me, ya know?”
We were all on the edge of our seats, apart from the only two members of the bridal party who were already hitched. But they seemed just as interested in what she was going to say next as they sipped their mimosas carefully so as not to spill.
“But in the beginning it didn’t seem like a good thing.” She spun her chair around to face us. “He drove me kind of crazy to be honest.”
“Cause you were trying your damndest to resist him,” Jackie said.
“Yeah, of course. He was my boss,” she said. “And I didn’t want to blow my chance at getting my dream job.”
Jackie pursed her lips like she was holding something back, probably something filthy by the look on her face.
Ella lifted her perfectly manicured fingers in the air. “But what can I say? He was ridiculously persistent.”
Jackie cocked a hip. “Even though you totally knew it was for real before he did.”
“He refused to admit it,” she said, shaking her head. “Which was infuriating. I mean, nobody wants to be the one who’s head over heels when the other person isn’t invested at all.”
Jackie crossed her arms. “But eventually you got him to admit that he was crazy about you.”
Ella nodded. “Yeah, but he was almost too late.” She pursed her glossy lips. “To be honest, I don’t think we’d be here today if it weren’t for Ben.”
I raised my eyebrows.
Ella was looking right at me. “He’s the one that told Will he was being an idiot and that he should fight for me. I really can’t say enough about what a great guy he is.”
I smiled. “He’s a keeper alright.”
Ella raised her eyebrows. “Maybe next time we’re all dressed up together it’ll be for someone else’s wedding…”
I swallowed.
Her cousin clapped her hands and leaned forward to look at me. “That would be fabulous! Have you guys talked about tying the knot at all?”
I shook my head. “No. Can’t say that we have.”
“It’s still early days,” Ella said, waving her hand towards me. “There’s no rush.”
“Right,” I said, draining the rest of my mimosa.
Chapter 12: Ben
After I finished my steak, I let my eyes wander over to Carrie’s plate and watched as she dragged one of her last medium rare bites through some thick red wine jus.
“Can I help you?” she asked, raising her eyebrows and popping the bite into her mouth.
I nodded towards her plate. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Thanks, but I’m good,” she said. “This is probably the nicest steak I’ve ever had, so you best keep your hands to yourself.”
“If you like steak, I should take you to Capulets sometime.”
“That would be lovely,” she said, touching me lightly on the arm. “I’ve heard their steak is wonderful.”
I knew by the flair in her speech that not only had she never heard of the restaurant, but she didn’t think I was serious about taking her there. But I was. There and a half a dozen other places in the city I bet she’d love based on the different groans she greeted each course with.
I could’ve admired her enthusiasm for food all day. Too bad the steak was the last course before the wedding cake. I reached for the white wine and topped up her glass before filling my own.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Carrie asked, popping another undersized steak bite in her mouth. I swear I could’ve eaten the whole piece she had left in one go, and I was starting to think she was taking her sweet time just to torture me.
“The more interesting question is am I succeeding?” I asked, raising my glass.
She rolled her eyes.
“Should I take your silence as a yes?”
“No,” she said, sticking her chin in my direction.
My eyes dropped to her glossy lips.
She cocked her head. “Seriously, though. Are you?”
“Yes,” I said, turning towards her. “But only drunk enough that you’ll fall into my arms.”
She shook her head and cut the last piece of her juicy steak in half. Then she stuck her fork in one of the bites and raised it up in front of me as she lifted her brows.
I took a deep breath. “I’m going to give you one second to reconsider.”
“It’s okay. Go ahead.”
I snagged the bite off her fork and let the juicy steak flood my mouth, filling my mind with filth.
“You’re welcome,” she said, popping her last bite in her mouth.
“You are too kind.”
She raised her glass to her lips. “And don’t you forget it.”
I watched her neck move as she drank, letting myself imagine what it would be like to take her differently than before, rougher, what it would be like to sink my teeth into her neck- maybe even tie her to the bed post and see how q
uickly I could make her legs collapse beneath her.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I said, unable to suppress a smile.
“You were thinking something inappropriate.”
“You’ll never be able to prove it,” I said, noticing that more and more people were heading to the dance floor now that the music was growing louder.
“It’s probably every other thought with you, huh?”
“Only when you’re around, babe.” I let the word babe hang in the air while I tried to decide whether she thought it suited her. “What are you thinking about?”
“How stuffed I am and how lovely the ceremony was.”
“It was nice, wasn’t it?”
She smiled. “I’ve never been to a wedding that wasn’t held in a church, but they did such a nice job.”
“Yeah. Ella’s not very big into the whole organized religion thing-”
“And your dad?”
I shrugged. “Far as I know he couldn’t give two shits either way. He told me once that capitalism was the only fair religion on Earth.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“Because it will take your money like the rest of them, but it’s the only one that will ever pay you back.”
She laughed. “So not a spiritual person then?”
“No. Plus, Ella said she wanted to get married here because it means more, since this is where they live and work.”
She furrowed her brows. “They live here?”
“My dad has a penthouse on the top floor.”
“Of course. Silly me.”
“I imagine Ella will officially move in soon.”
“Maybe even tonight, I should think.”
I nodded.
“Where are they going for their honeymoon?”
“Europe.”
“Cool.”
“Yeah, it was pretty much Ella’s call cause my dad’s already been everywhere.”
“Understandable.”
“Just like it will be yours when we get married someday,” I said, watching her eyes carefully.
She swallowed. “Actually, the girls asked me if we’d talked about marriage.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What did you say?”
Her brown eyes flashed. “I gave them our save the date, of course.”
I smiled and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss on the lips.
She pursed them when I pulled back, keeping her eyes on me. “And for the record, I don’t care about all of Europe. I just want to go to Italy.”
“And eat pasta and gelato the whole time?”
“Yeah,” she said. “When we’re not having sex, of course.”
“Which will be a lot of the time.”
She shrugged. “We’ll have no choice if we’re going to overeat every day.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
Little creases sprang up at the corners of her eyes.
“Anything else I should know?” I asked.
“Maybe we should just have the wedding over there?”
“Good thinking,” I said. “Seems a shame to kick off a marriage with a long haul flight. Better to get the jet lag out of the way so we can enjoy ourselves the whole time.”
She leaned back in her chair and dragged her fingertips along the white tablecloth. “I want something small and intimate. Maybe just the two of us, and we’ll have Robert Duvall do the honors.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Mmm. I hate to call Bobbo in for a personal favor, but he does owe me one.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“No.”
She exhaled. “He’ll totally do it, though.”
“In character as the consigliere, no less.”
“Obviously,” she said, fiddling with the diamond around her neck.
“Should we have a band or a DJ?”
“Hmmm.” She pursed her lips. “Definitely a band.”
“Maybe we should arrange everything so it’s just like the wedding in the Godfather.”
“That was a pretty killer wedding.”
“I suppose you’ll want a registry?”
She shook her head. “No. I can buy my own plates. Let’s just ask everyone to chip in and get us a Ferrari to cruise around Italy in.”
I cocked my head. “Everyone who isn’t invited to the wedding?”
“Good point. Bobbo will have to pay for it.”
“I suppose it would be the least he could do.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Do have a word with him.”
“I will. First thing tomorrow.”
“Great. If you can pull it off, I’ll even let you drive.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Let me drive?! Now I know you’re joking.”
“You don’t think I’d look good behind the wheel of a red Ferrari convertible?”
I smiled. “I can think of a few places you’d look even better.”
She smacked me in the arm as a sweep of pink lit up her cheeks.
“I think that was a reasonably successful brainstorming session,” I said. “Certainly cleared up a lot of my questions, anyway.”
“Me too.” She tipped the last of her wine into her mouth. “Looks like all we need now is a date.”
“Funny,” I said. “And here I was hoping today would never end.”
Chapter 13: Carrie
I knew we were only joking around, that we weren’t going to get married, and that we weren’t going to ride off into the sunset in a red Ferrari convertible.
And yet, I’d had more fun brainstorming my pretend wedding with Ben in the last five minutes than I’d ever had dreaming out loud with Simon.
Sure, maybe it was only more fun because, in this case, we were only limited by our imagination.
But maybe it was more fun because Ben was more fun in every way a person could be.
And there was no denying that I felt lighter when he was around. And safer.
I think it was down to his commanding physical presence and the fact that I knew he was always watching me.
Simon used to watch me, too, but it wasn’t the same. He watched me because he was paranoid and jealous.
Whereas with Ben, it felt like he was paying attention because I was charming and pretty. And while he never could’ve known how badly I needed to feel that way for a change, I was incredibly grateful to him for showing me such a good time. Even if it was only means to an end.
Not that I had any intention of making a big deal about it. After all, it would only go to his head.
“You’re not such a bad wedding date after all,” I said, topping up our wine glasses.
One corner of his mouth curled up. “And you haven’t even seen me dance.”
I squinted at him. “You don’t dance.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “I went to college in England. They invented cutting shapes over there.”
I cocked my head. “Cutting shapes?”
“Yeah, you know.” He straightened up in his chair, his broad shoulders bouncing as he moved his arms. “Big box- little box- refrigerator- microwave-”
I couldn’t help but smile. “What happens after you cut all the shapes?”
“You move them,” he said, smiling as he shifted invisible boxes back and forth in the air between us.
“Wow.”
“I also do a mean shopping cart.”
I shook my head.
He held his hands in front of him and pretended he was walking along, eyeing things on imaginary shelves around him.
“I’ll save you the trouble of doing the sprinkler,” I said, raising an open palm. “I know that one myself.”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to teach you a few more?” he asked. “I’d cut shapes all day for one look at those dimples.”
I felt my cheeks burn.
“So what do you say?” he asked.
I furrowed my brow. “To what?”
“Dancing with me.”
I shook my head. “I’m su
re you’d only put me to shame.”
He fixed his eyes on me. “Never.”
I swallowed.
His gaze was suddenly serious. “I would never- ever- put you to shame.”
I wasn’t sure if we were still only joking about the dance floor.
He stood up and extended his hand.
I scrunched my face.
“Please,” he said. “I promise not to cut a single shape.”
I smiled.
“I can’t do that and hold you close anyway, and I’m much more interested in the latter.”
I could tell by his face that refusing would only be a temporary waste of breath, and seeing as how I was addicted to his attention, I had no choice but to stand up and take his hand.
He held it as he walked towards the dance floor, weaving around tables and chairs and other guests without ever letting go. I half expected him to turn around when he reached the floor’s edge, but he continued heading right to the center of everybody.
By the time he turned around, the music had changed, and I couldn’t help but think of Brook as the Mudrucker’s most popular song began playing out of the nearby speakers. And when Ben pulled me close and slid his large hand over my lower back- still holding my other hand in his- my nerves turned to laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, making the narrow space between us disappear.
“Nothing,” I said. “I was just thinking that you’ll probably make some woman really happy one day.” What? What the hell was I saying? What was wrong with me? Oh god I needed to stop talking. Just. Stop. Talking.
“Thanks,” he said, rocking side to side. “But I’m not really interested in that.”
I furrowed my brow at him, trying to ignore the proximity of his lips. “No?”
He shook his head. “All I’m worried about is making one woman happy on this day.”
“Oh?” I asked. “And who might that woman be?”
He smiled and looked around. “I haven’t decided yet, but the selection is pretty decent so-”
I rolled my eyes and smiled. To be honest, I felt like I’d surpassed my smiling quota for the day hours ago, but he just kept making them spill out of me.