Wicked Wedding

by Bennett, Sawyer

  “It’s easy to get caught up in life,” I reply as we traverse the busy sidewalk. Old Las Vegas is quite the happening place.

  “It’s something I take for granted… them just always being there for me. You sort of made me realize that.”

  I nod in understanding. We had talked about my parents tonight. I’d told Andrew on our wedding night about my family. I’d lost my mom to breast cancer when I was thirteen and my father at twenty-two. Andrew knew about my dad’s heart attack, but I shared more of the details of that horrific day we went hiking together, when I came home without him.

  Tonight though, Andrew asked me dozens and dozens of questions about them. He was genuinely interested despite the fact that they’re not a part of my current life, other than private conversations I have with them in my head. It’s been ten years since I lost my dad and while the pain has diminished, the good memories have stayed strong within me.

  “It’s easy to lose time,” I tell him. “We get busy in our lives and before you know it, years have gone by and you’re in the same place. Doing the same thing. Just living day to day.”

  “I love my work,” he admits. “Like a lot. But I hate missing out on the really important things—like time with my family. I’m not great about managing my time.”

  Squeezing his hand, I tilt my head to rest on his shoulder while we stroll along.

  “Or with you,” he adds. Lifting from his shoulder, I stare at him. “Is it weird that you’ve become so important to me in such a brief period of time that I don’t want to miss time with you?”

  My smile is soft and understanding. “Not at all. But then again, I am your wife, so I should be important to you.”

  There’s a slight pitching sensation in my stomach as Andrew’s face clouds slightly.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  He stops, then turns to face me. People move around us as he takes both my hands in his. “I wasn’t sure how to bring this up, and I’m not sure why I feel weird about it, but my attorney called me last week with some concerns of his.”

  “Is something wrong with the annulment?” I ask, marveling how that prospect doesn’t seem to bother me at all.

  Andrew hesitates, but then says, “No. That should go through at the end of the twenty days. But well… he’s concerned because technically we’re married, which means you have a financial stake in my holdings. He wants me to talk to you about signing a post-nuptial agreement until the annulment goes through, but I think it’s ridiculous and—”

  “I’ll sign it,” I say without hesitation. “I mean… surely you know I’m not after your money, right?”

  “Exactly,” he says with a growl of emphasis. “I do know that about you. I’m not sure how I know it or why I know deep things about your character when we’ve only known each other a week. But I don’t think you’d ever try to take advantage of that.”

  I smile as I take note of the people brushing by us, turning my body so we can start walking toward his condo again. “It’s weird, right? This deep connection we seem to have?”

  “It’s definitely not the norm,” he agrees with a laugh. “But it’s not weird as in creepy, but just weird as it’s something we’ve never experienced before.”

  “Right,” I exclaim, focusing down the block toward a dark, glittering tower that extends high over the other buildings. There’s a line of people coming out the door, stretching down the block on the opposite side of the street. I ignore the people and say, “I feel it, too. I’ve been brokenhearted twice in my life, and I have a tough time trusting. I think Tara was right. I wasn’t all in with Jesse. I held a lot back from him. But I don’t distrust you. I just know… you’re genuine.”

  Andrew stops again, then steers us to the edge of the sidewalk away from the street so we’re out of the way of the pedestrian traffic. Bringing a hand to the back of my neck, he dips his face to peer at me. “I don’t actually think you’re a distrusting person. Otherwise, you would have never taken that whimsical leap with me to get married in a Vegas chapel. Rather, I think you’re actually a good judge of character. I think you not feeling that deep connection to Jesse was more of you being a strong woman who knows what she wants and what she’s worth rather than someone who’s been shaped by a broken heart.”

  “That’s a subtle distinction.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s apples and oranges. You know your mind, Brynne. And your heart. You need to listen to it more often.”

  He kisses me then, removing any ability to disagree with him. And I would because he has a lot more faith in me than I do at this point, but in the time it takes him to get my mouth under his control, I can’t remember a damn thing as to why I would argue with him.

  When he pulls away, I’m dazed. My voice is thick. “So if my gut is saying to pay attention to what’s going on between us, I should do that, right?”

  “Yes,” he says with quiet seriousness. “You should.”

  “Do you have any hesitations about this?” I ask.

  “I really don’t,” he assures me with a confident smile.

  “Do you think it’s possible I’m rebounding with you?” I ask, my eyes dropping down to the pavement.

  His fingers come under my chin, forcing my eyes back up to him. “Doesn’t matter what I think. What do you think?”

  Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t think I am. A rebound is to fill a void left by hurt, and I don’t feel there is one. You’re so much bigger than just a plug to the small hole that was left in my heart. In fact, that hole is still there, but it’s not even distracting me. It’s just part of my life experience now. But you’re sort of beyond all that. Does that sound weird?”

  His smile is soft and reassuring. “It’s totally weird, but I feel the same way. I really like you a lot, Brynne. I want to see where this goes. It’s going to be difficult enough navigating a long-distance relationship; why add on any other pressures when it comes to what we have?”

  I give him a skeptical look, but he knows by the smile on my face I’m teasing. “I might have a few questions for you first.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Ever broken someone’s heart?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Ever been heartbroken?” I ask.

  He nods, but there’s no deep pain in his eyes. Merely a fondness for perhaps the good things that were in the past. “Yeah. I had my heart broken in college. Took me a while to get over it, but I did. I don’t even think about her anymore.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Claudia,” he says, and then laughs. “And now you just made me think of her. God, I can’t even remember how long it’s been.”

  “Was that your one and only time being in love?” I ask.

  “I do believe it was,” he says, but something in his tone makes it clear there was someone else that was special. Perhaps someone he felt a great deal for, but it never quite made it to the next level in his mind.

  My attention goes back across the street to the lengthy line of people waiting to get into the uber-tall building. “What’s going on over there? Hot new club in town or something?”

  Andrew’s hand squeezes mine almost reflexively, and he starts to lead me down the sidewalk. “It’s a sex club called The Wicked Horse. Up on the top floor of that building, I mean. It’s exclusive and private, but they do have a certain amount of evening passes they give out. It’s first-come, first-serve basis.”

  I stop dead in my tracks, looking away from him and back to the throng of people waiting to get their rocks off inside that building.

  Was that where Jesse and Tara had been when they had sex?

  “Is that the only one in Las Vegas?” I ask as I stare across the street at the sexily dressed men and women in their high-fashion clothes waiting to get in to do all kinds of perverted things. I wonder how many people standing out on that street have plans to cheat on someone tonight.

  “Don’t,” Andrew says, forcing me to look at him with his hand on my jaw. “Do
n’t beat yourself up over something that has nothing to do with you. Stop torturing yourself over it.”

  I wrench out of his grip with his words still lingering in my ears, swiveling to face the club crowd.

  They’re just… people standing there. They all look alike, and they all have nothing to do with me.

  I slide my gaze slowly back to Andrew. “You’re absolutely right. I just realized… I don’t want to know anything about that. I’m done even letting it take up real estate inside my brain.”

  Andrew breathes out an audible sigh of relief, then gives me a bright smile. “That’s my girl.”

  “Is that what I am?” I inquire pertly with a subtle bat of my lashes.

  “Damn straight you are.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Andrew

  The phone on my desk rings. I think for a moment about ignoring it, but then I remind myself I’m at work and I’m important to the general functioning of our research and development.

  “Collings,” I answer into the phone while I read a medical journal article on anemia. Because we are creating a machine to do in-depth analysis of blood diseases from merely a drop or two, I spend a lot of my time staying up to speed on all hematological research.

  “D,” a male voice bellows into the phone.

  “K,” I reply with a laugh.

  Kevin Cartwell is one of our computer engineers. He works on the prototype unit we’re developing, and has become a good friend to me over the years.

  “I’ve got some specs I need you to review pretty quickly,” he says. “I’m stumped, and need your eyeballs.”

  Engineering is so not my thing, but blood analysis is not his. This is where close collaboration between two different fields of science is necessary and often utilized.

  “Send it over along with the issues you want me to focus in on,” I tell him.

  “Breakfast meeting tomorrow?” he suggests.

  I hedge because I’ve been enjoying leisurely mornings with Brynne on the days I’ve had to work. I’m normally into the office early, but since I’ve done that for over fifteen years now, I have no guilt or qualms about coming in mid-morning this week so I can maximize time with Brynne.

  “Actually, can we do lunch?” I ask. “My morning is packed.”

  “Sure thing,” he agrees jovially. “See you in the cafeteria at noon.”

  “Later,” I reply, then disconnect the call.

  Leaning back in my chair, I swivel it around to look out over Old Vegas and clasp my hands together behind my head. I’ve hated coming to work this week since Brynne has been staying with me, but I can’t afford the time off. Until we launch our prototype, there’s no room for dallying. Granted, my normal eighty-five-hour weeks have dwindled the last few days to what will amount to maybe sixty hours, but I don’t let it weigh me down. I’ve not taken a decent vacation in years, and I know how important these first early days of bonding are.

  My stomach pitches as I also realize I haven’t gotten off to the best start with Brynne—at least when it comes to complete transparency and honesty. It figures that what I think may be the girl of my dreams has a distinct aversion to threesomes and can’t understand the complexity of the relationship where that’s involved. My failure to come clean to her that I have been involved in just such a relationship is akin to me being dishonest with her.

  Or at least that’s how I think she would take that.

  I know it’s wrong, yet I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not because I barely knew her and that was just too personal to discuss, but because I knew it would cause her to look at me in a different way.

  Not in a good way at all, and I don’t want to risk that.

  Not when I sense she’s something incredibly good that has come into my life.

  I know I’ll have to come clean on that at some point, but I need the right opening. Despite the fact Brynne will bring up Jesse and the threesome at various points, she never seems overly impacted by it, which makes me all the more leery of picking at scabbed-over wounds.

  I also have doubts about bringing this out into open discussion because it’s just not the same.

  Pure apples and oranges.

  Brynne was betrayed and hurt by her fiancé and maid of honor, who engaged in a threesome at a sex club.

  I entered into a three-way relationship with my two best friends, and none of us were involved in monogamous relationships. We cared for each other deeply.

  Completely different than Brynne’s situation, and yet… I still hold back. I wonder why that is. Is it because I’m embarrassed I even went there in the first place? I mean, it was only but for the grace of God that our friendship didn’t deteriorate to shit. I was in it for the taboo nature of the relationship, and it boiled down to a perverse desire for a different type of sexual gratification.

  In that situation, I’m as bad as Jesse and Tara because I was in it for the sex, and three consenting adults having sexual relations with each other is something Brynne is very much against right now.

  So when it boils right down to it, I’m going to take the safer path and not say anything to her. I want to continue having a fantastic time with her for our remaining days left together. It’s Wednesday, and she’s been here four days. She leaves on Saturday morning as she wants to get back and do some personal stuff like laundry and grocery shopping before the workweek starts. She actually has patients set up, and she’ll continue to care for them until she gets it sorted out with Jesse and Tara about what to do with them.

  As it stands now, Jesse is being the same old douche he ever was and refuses to buy Brynne out. He’s trying to force her to stay in the practice, thinking he’ll be able to win her back over.

  Hate to tell him, but that’s not going to happen while I’m still breathing.

  Fortunately, Tara’s being easy to work with. She said once Jesse decides, Tara will do whatever is best and easiest on Brynne, which I think is nice and the least she could do for ruining her friend’s life.

  Brynne and I talked about this a lot that second night she was in Vegas, which was a Sunday. We’d gone hiking in Red Rock Canyon, and were talking about everything of importance and sometimes nothing overly deep. The conversation did turn toward the practice when she asked my advice as to what to do.

  She could either A) sell out to Jesse and Tara, but they’d have to agree to release her from co-signing on the line of credit, or B) she could buy them out, but that wasn’t really an option because she didn’t have the money, or C) she could walk away from the entire deal and probably be forced to file bankruptcy at some point or even D) none of the above.

  She could choose to stay there, continue on in a professional practice relationship with them.

  Brynne was adamant that D wouldn’t work, C left her at too much financial risk, and B was impossible because she had no money. That put her back at square one of trying to sell her portion of the practice to Jesse, and him refusing to entertain an offer because he wanted her to stay so he could continue to work on her.

  This has been weighing heavy on Brynne, so I stepped into action.

  Unbeknownst to her, of course.

  Leaning forward, I flip through my e-mail looking for the one I received yesterday from Hugo Alvarez, a private investigator who isn’t afraid to bend the rules a little to get what he wants.

  I hired him to investigate Jesse and Tara, knowing that any dirt against them could potentially go a long way from carving Brynne out of that partnership with little repercussion to herself. If he digs up something blackmail worthy, I won’t hesitate to use it to get them out of her life for good. She’s let them both go in her heart, so I have no regrets about getting my hands dirty to protect her.

  While I don’t see anything from Mr. Alvarez, I do see an email from my attorney. I read it quickly and close it out, not wanting to give any consideration to getting Brynne to sign a post-nuptial agreement. I get where he’s coming from and I know he’s doing his job to protect me, but my reticence
doesn’t even have anything to do with my money. I just don’t want something so ugly between us as we start this relationship. The annulment waiting period of twenty days will be up soon, and I’m content to just wait it out. I trust that Brynne doesn’t care one bit about my wealth.

  A knock startles me out of my thoughts. “Come in.”

  The door swings open. My jaw drops when I see Avril and Dane standing there, arms around each other and smiling at me like fools.

  My eyes cut down to my desk calendar, because for a moment I feel like I’ve lost time. I see the current date and day of the week staring back at me—Wednesday—and I regard them quizzically. “What are you doing here? You still should be on your honeymoon.”

  Avril steps away from Dane with a shrug, then hurries toward me around my desk with her arms held open. “We were bored, and wanted to get back to work. Besides, we missed you like crazy.”

  I snort as I push out of my chair to meet her. “I can totally buy you were bored and wanted to get back to work, but the missing me part is bullshit.”

  “It’s not,” she assures me as she steps into my hug. I have no qualms in giving her a long, encompassing embrace. There’s no hesitation as her husband watches, even though I’ve fucked his wife before.

  I don’t even cringe when I think about that time period. It was an experience—a surreal but enjoyable one. I choose to accept what we did, and celebrate that our friendship came out intact.

  Mainly, the reason I don’t feel strange hugging Avril is because I also choose not to think of the sex I had with them. It’s over and done with, and I prefer to leave it in the past.

  When I release Avril, I see Dane has stepped up behind her. We clasp hands, bump chests, and hit each other on the back in classic “bro” style.

  After that greeting is complete, Avril steps back into her husband and he wraps his arms around her waist, settling his chin on her shoulder.