She's With Stupid

by Amanda Dennis

  The older woman winked again before she went back to rummaging through her purse for a lighter. “I’m going to quit smoking my cheroots one of these days,” she muttered cheerfully as she victoriously pulled out a very fancy flip lighter with a pretty flower design etched on the side. “Lucky for you, it’s not today!”

  Emilie’s face lit with a relieved smile. “Thanks, Auntie Olive. You saved the day.” She gave her a quick buss on the cheek, jumped back up, and turned to go deposit the lighter next to the candles, but before she had taken a step the older woman grabbed her hand to halt her flight.

  Ignoring Emilie’s look of surprise, Aunt Olive wagged a finger in her direction and pulled her closer. “All joking aside, dear, if you ask me—” She leaned forward to impart her wisdom. “That girl has no business getting married today. She’s too young. You all are,” she added with a decisive nod at Emilie’s startled expression. “Why, when I was your age I was taking a grand tour of Italy and sleeping with all the wrong men. Beautiful men, mind you, those Italian gents really get my motor running, if you know what I mean.”

  Aunt Olive’s voice had taken on a dreamy quality as she stared off into space and recalled her Italian adventures, and Emilie couldn’t help but smirk at the older woman’s obviously naughty past. Abruptly, Aunt Olive seemed to snap out of her reverie long enough to return to her main point. “But I never entertained thoughts of marrying any of them! Heavens, where’s the fun in that? Why anyone would want to tie themselves down to one person for the rest of their lives at your age, I’ll never understand.” With a sly wink directed at Emilie, Aunt Olive gave the girl a playful shove. “Now go on with you, I’ve said my peace.”

  Nodding vaguely, Emilie hurried back to the front of the church, distantly wondering why they hadn’t been treated to any of Aunt Olive’s racy stories when they were younger. That would have made those summer vacations much more interesting.

  Her mom, who had watched the exchange with curiosity, grasped her hand when she reached the altar. At the slight blush painting her daughter’s face, Lauren smiled. “What was that about?”

  “I honestly have no idea,” she confessed with a shrug. “But I think Auntie Olive may have been a regular slut bunny in her day.”

  Emilie looked back at the older woman with an affectionate smile, but her smile swiftly faded when she glanced down at the hand that lightly held her own. She grabbed her mom’s wrist and looked at her watch in dismay. “Is that really the time?!”

  Taking the lighter from Emilie’s limp grasp, her mother smoothed a nearly undetectable bump at the back of her daughter’s hair. “Go back to your friends, honey, and stop worrying,” she said soothingly. “You’ll get wrinkles.” Lauren nudged her with an encouraging smile. “Go on. I’ll put this with the candles.”

  Emilie nodded gratefully and gave her mom another hug and a kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Mama.”

  With a mental groan, Emilie hurriedly retraced her steps along the aisle to head back to Kate’s dressing room, where she was sure to find another catastrophe just waiting for her to resolve.

  She was nearly out of the sanctuary when she remembered Evelyn’s complaints about the temperature. Glancing around the room in growing desperation, Emilie gave a mental shout out to the wedding gods when she saw Ethan lounging against the frame of the entranceway. Rushing forward, she grabbed hold of his arm and, without pausing to note his reaction, dragged him out into the hall.

  “Hey, Emmy,” he said with a grin. “Looking for a quickie, baby? ‘Cause I gotta say, I am definitely on board with that plan.” He waggled his eyebrows at the hand clutching his sleeve so firmly.

  Emilie whirled around once they reached a semi-secluded alcove off of the hall and faced him, only to catch her breath at the naked awareness in his eyes as he gave her figure the slow, appreciative perusal that never failed to make her toes curl.

  Desperately endeavoring to ignore the fact that he was still able to make her feel like a giddy teenager, as well as the fact that she kind of enjoyed feeling that way, she gave him a haughty look that only made his grin widen and his gaze darken with interest. Actually, he seemed more than interested. He seemed hungry.

  Brushing that fascinating observation aside, Emilie gave him an impatient shake of her head. “Not now, Bozo.”

  His lips quirked in an endearing smile, and she drew a steadying breath, which also afforded her the opportunity to admire his appearance. His dark hair was swept back from his face, but a stray lock fell into emerald eyes that were bright with amusement, and he looked absolutely marvelous in his steel gray suit, which was cut perfectly to showcase his broad shoulders, lean torso, and long legs. His tie even matched the color of Emilie’s dress, which satisfied her need for color coordination.

  But that is entirely beside the point, she hastily reminded herself.

  “I need you to do me a favor.” She batted her eyelashes in a deliberately teasing fashion. “Pretty please?”

  The dimple in Ethan’s left cheek deepened with his grin as he absently ran his index finger across her collarbone. “Your wish is my command, Emmy,” he said with a wink. “Want me to sneak us out of here so we can have a little alone time, darlin’?”

  Emilie felt a blush work its way up her chest as another one of those increasingly familiar tingles spread through her chest. Shaking off the resulting momentary stupor, she playfully swatted at his hand. “Dream on. That was a one time…or two-time, I guess…occurrence. It’s so not happening again,” she baldly lied, then couldn’t help laughing at the sudden scowl between his eyes. “You’re my best friend’s cousin, which practically makes you my cousin, you perv.”

  Her teasing smirk was instantly erased when Ethan hauled her into his arms, picked her up, and gave her stunned lips a resounding kiss, his actions plainly intent on reminding her that the things he was capable of doing to her mind and body were decidedly un-cousinly.

  After what seemed like forever, he leaned back while still retaining a tight hold on her hips. “Baby, I am most definitely not your cousin. We clear on that?”

  A few of the wedding guests still trickling into the church paused to unabashedly stare at them. Lana’s mother strolled by and froze in her tracks, giving them a censorious glance before stomping into the sanctuary muttering, “Well, I never!”

  Emilie winced. Mrs. Tate wasn’t fond of public displays of affection. In fact, she seemed to remember that Mrs. Tate had been the driving force behind their grade school’s No P.D.A. policy. Emilie anemically waved at her departing figure before turning her glare on Ethan.

  “Put me down, you Neanderthal.”

  Wiggling a little to test the give in his arms, she discovered, much to her secret delight, that there was none. Her feet still dangling off the floor, Emilie swallowed nervously at the sight of his entirely unrepentant grin.

  Raising his eyebrows at her snippy tone, Ethan firmly shook his head. “Sorry, baby. I can’t put you down until I’m sure you fully appreciate the decidedly non-familial parameters of our relationship.”

  Her eyes narrowed as Ethan carried her further into the alcove. Once they were hidden from prying eyes, he pressed her against the wall and playfully nipped at her neck, leaving her slightly light-headed and inordinately pleased with him.

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” she sighed. “Fine, we’re crystal clear about the fact that we are not in any way related.” She glared at his smug expression and wiggled again, to no avail. “So, ah, do you think you could let me down now?” Her words may have sounded more convincing if her eyes weren’t so riveted to his lips, which were slightly swollen from their recent activities.

  Gruffly clearing his throat, Ethan allowed his forehead to softly rest against hers. “Well now, there might be a slight problem with letting you go at this particular moment, Emmy.” He lightly nudged her belly with his hips and she felt her cheeks darken even further at the evidence of his arousal.

  Her panicked brain tried to tell her that this was entire
ly inappropriate. They were in a church, for goodness sake. But she found herself snuggling closer to him as if they had all the time in the world.

  “Besides,” he rasped softly as he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. “Now that I’ve got you, I don’t much care to let you go.”

  Emilie, ever eloquent, replied with a breathy, “Oh.”

  With a satisfied smile, Ethan adjusted his grip to comfortably clasp his hands under her bottom, and settled into another mind-melting kiss. Emilie meant to tell him to stop, she really did; she simply did not have time for this right now. But she didn’t really want him to stop. Her legs seemed to lock around his waist of their own accord, and her hands somehow found their way into his silky hair as she willingly gave into the simple pleasure of his kiss.

  There was no denying that they fit together perfectly, and she could no longer ignore how completely right it felt whenever she was in his arms. It could turn out to be the stupidest thing she ever did, but Emilie was through pretending that she didn’t love being with him. She loved him, and she was determined to stick to her plan, stop being such a coward, and accept her fate with a modicum of grace.

  As if Ethan sensed her surrender, his hold tightened until could barely breathe, but she wouldn’t have asked him to stop if a crane dropped on their heads. For the first time in a long time, they were both exactly where they wanted to be, and it seemed only right to enjoy the moment.

  It might have been a few minutes, it might have been a few hours, but the sound of a loud “ahem” from behind Ethan finally startled Emilie out of her blissful oblivion to the rest of the world.

  Pulling slightly back to steal a look over his shoulder, Emilie spied Lana, bent over at the waist and pointing her finger at them. She was quivering with suppressed laughter as she drew huge gulps of air in through her open mouth.

  Lana straightened, giving her the thumbs up and an approving nod before Ethan, growling at the loss of Emilie’s mouth against his, swung around to face Lana with Emilie still firmly in his grasp.

  “Sorry to interrupt what appears to be an extremely gripping interlude,” said Lana, not looking sorry at all. “But Emilie is needed back in the dressing room.”

  “Why, what’s wrong?” Emilie squirmed until Ethan turned so she could better look Lana in the eye.

  She did not, however, feel any more eager to let go than Ethan did, so the two of them remained wrapped around each other like a pair of swizzle sticks.

  Lana’s rolled her eyes in amusement. “Evelyn wanted her to wear some other bra, so she made Kate try the new one on. I guess it didn’t fit or something, but before I really knew what was happening Kate was having a very high-pitched meltdown, and, well, you need to get in there.”

  “Okay,” said Emilie. She stared expectantly at Ethan, waiting for him to put her down. His only response was to growl deep in his throat, gripping her even tighter than he had before with a naughty grin on his face.

  Emilie was more than a little distressed to find herself completely turned on by that. She lightly slapped his shoulder and tried to give him an intimidating glare.

  His grin widened. “Do you know how adorable you look right now?”

  This elicited another choked laugh from Lana.

  Emilie ignored his comment, mostly because she didn’t want to think about how adorable she found him right now. “Kate’s your cousin.”

  When he shrugged, looking terribly unimpressed with that information, she gave a frustrated groan. “Look, I have to go take care of this so you have to put me down now. Please,” she added politely.

  The big oaf shook his head again. “I’m afraid letting you go doesn’t sound nearly as fun as what we were doing a minute ago.”

  She felt her stomach do a little flip when he flashed another charming smirk. No! Not charming at all. Bad Emilie.

  Ethan winked, as if he could indeed read her thoughts.

  Lana finally broke in on their not-so-subtle foreplay with a wave of her hand. “Listen, I know you two have lots of babies to make, but could we please focus on poor Kate for five seconds here?”

  When Ethan’s eyes suddenly gleamed with intent, causing Emilie’s mouth to drop, Lana rolled her eyes. “While I am all for Emilie’s new foray into nymphomania, I fear that if you two aren’t separated now you may be tempted to disappear and leave me all alone to deal with Kate’s nervous breakdown. And that just will not do. You can keep doing whatever it is you were doing later, okay?” Lana said in her most cajoling tone.

  Emilie started squirming again, the twinkle in her eye letting Ethan know she knew exactly what her movements were doing to him. He firmly took hold of her bottom and halted her wiggling with a mischievous leer. “I’ll let you go, Emmy.” She stilled in his arms and looked pointedly at the arms still tight around her. “But only if you promise to let me have all your dances tonight.”

  “I—don’t you mean the first dance?” Her glare was somewhat marred by the grin on her face.

  “No, baby.” He shook his head firmly. “All of them are mine. Got it?”

  Maintaining his hold, he calmly waited for her to agree to his terms. Emilie blinked up at him and gave him an unexpectedly shy nod. He rewarded her acquiescence with a brief, but very thorough, kiss before allowing her to unhook her legs and slide down his body until her feet reached the floor. She stepped back and stared at him with a curious blend of confusion and desire, and her hand found its way to her hip as she nibbled on her bottom lip in frustration.

  When Ethan saw the hand on her hip, that determined gleam in his eyes instantly returned. He moved to kiss her again, but Lana hastily body-blocked him. Ignoring his disgruntled frown, she gave Emilie a shake. “We really have to go now, Em.”

  Emilie blinked twice before coming back to earth, where she swiftly became aware of her mussed hair, wrinkled dress, and entirely uncharacteristic behavior. Honestly, when was she going to gain an ounce of self-control around the man?

  She met Ethan’s steady gaze and immediately felt herself relax. He didn’t seem to have any more control over this than she did, which was… oddly reassuring. When he returned her smile, she blushed again before turning to follow Lana down the hall. She’d taken two steps when she remembered why she had stopped Ethan in the first place and had to turn back around.

  “The favor I needed!” Ethan nodded for her to go on. “The air conditioning needs to be turned up, but I don’t know where—”

  She stopped when he patiently put his hand up and said, “I’ll take care of it, Emmy.”

  Ethan felt his breath catch as Emilie gave him a heart-stopping smile before turning with a swish of her skirt and breaking into a dead run with Lana. He was momentarily stunned by how such a simple smile could make him feel so damn happy, but he knew he’d gladly spend the rest of his life making sure Emilie kept looking at him like that.

  Absently rubbing at the not unpleasant ache centered somewhere over his heart, Ethan turned to look for the air conditioning with a spring in his step and a grin on his face, thinking that maybe Kate’s wedding wasn’t going to be such a disaster after all.

  Emilie reached the dressing room a moment after Lana and was forced to step aside as Kate’s mother scurried out of the room like a squirrel being chased by hungry dogs.

  “Oh,” her voice quavered when she saw the girls. “You’re finally here. She’s having a tantrum, and I simply cannot deal with it today. You’d think she would have a little respect for my nerves!”

  Evelyn sniffed and stalked back down the hall muttering about ungrateful children. After warily watching her go, Emilie cast Lana a look of trepidation and reached for the doorknob. She stepped inside and was immediately forced to duck as something flew at her head, hitting the wall behind her with a thump. Emilie peaked out from behind her fingers to find a distressed Kate standing in the middle of the room, naked from the waist up with her dress unbuttoned and gaping around her hips.

  She was also screaming at the top of her lungs.
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  Kate paused in the middle of her tirade when she saw Emilie standing in the doorway. “Oh, it’s you.” She nodded slightly, and then she went back to shouting and pacing, kicking the skirt of her dress out of her way every time she turned.

  Quickly pulling Lana into the room, Emilie shut the door behind her. She glanced down at the floor and saw that the object Kate had thrown at her head was some sort of intricate brassiere/corset. So, that’s what the straw that broke the camel’s back looks like.

  “This is so UNFAIR!” Kate bellowed to no one in particular.

  Lana made an abbreviated attempt to move toward her, but Kate’s flailing arms made it seem wise to maintain distance.

  “Everyone is happy but me! And it’s MY wedding day!” Kate wagged her finger at Lana and Emilie in a fairly insane manner. “I am supposed to be parading around on Cloud Nine while you two are secretly dying inside with jealousy! Why aren’t you dying inside?”

  “Gee, I don’t know. Why aren’t you happy, psycho?” Lana swiftly clapped her hand over her mouth, but the words had already slipped out.

  Kate seemed to have been brought up short by being termed “psycho.” Emilie decided that now was probably not the right time to inform Kate of the picture she presented with her dress down around her waist, her veil askew and hanging on by only a single strand of wispy hair, and her Auntie Olive’s handkerchief peeking coyly out from under her left boob.

  “I don’t know,” Kate whispered forlornly. “I don’t know why I’m not happy.” A single tear fell onto her nose, but she roughly swiped it away.

  Cautiously approaching, Emilie silently loosed the stiff grasp Kate still had on the other bra in her hand. It looked to be the one they had originally purchased, so Emilie calmly slipped it around her waist, gesturing for Lana to help her fasten the bra and hold up Kate’s bodice so she wouldn’t catch cold.