Hitched: Spinoff from the Dark Romance Thriller Series: Edge and Whisper Are Getting Married

by Emma James

  “Uumm...erm...” She’s staring at me with big rounded eyes, processing what I just said.

  I think I’ve left Flora speechless.

  I bulldoze ahead. “Sunflower, you got yourself a plus one for today?” I wait for her to regain her voice.

  “Pardon?”

  “You heard me, Sunflower.”

  “I’m going stag which is perfectly fine these days.” Again, with the defensive.

  “It is perfectly fine going stag, but it will be my honor if you would be my plus one. Will you be my plus one, Flora?” If she tells me no, I’ll respect her answer, doesn’t mean I won’t find a way to be sitting next to her at dinner.

  “What just happened here?” she says softly.

  “I asked you to be my date. I heard you hadn’t had one of those in nearly nine years. Thought I would bring you out of retirement. I’ll be the perfect gentleman. I want to enjoy your company, even if it is only for today. Would you do that for me? For yourself?”

  “You called me, Flora.”

  “I did. I wanted to do it right, being a first date and all.”

  “Um...but what about Bowie?” She’s looking for excuses. “I can’t just all of a sudden be on a date with you at Whisper and Edge’s wedding. We’ve just gotten introduced to each other.”

  “Why not?” My ego appears to be taking a knock.

  “Because...”

  “Not a good enough reason, Sunflower. Do you find me attractive?” I need to get her to drop those walls she’s built.

  “Of course,” she huffs like it has cost her to admit it.

  “I find you very attractive, and that’s a good start. We are both adults who are attracted to each other. You’re single; I’m single. We’re both gonna be at this wedding, so why not let me officially be your date? I’ll promise to look after you and be the perfect gentleman.”

  “Bowie... he won’t understand.” She’s spent so long with a valid excuse for all occasions not to date that she can’t see past the possibilities of now being the right time to dip her toe back into the water.

  “We don’t have to tell Bowie we’re on a date if that makes you feel more comfortable. I’m sure he will be none-the-wiser. So what will it be? You gonna let a guy who helped save your kid from road rash be your plus one?”

  “Just to be clear, I’m not some old spinster. I do know how to enjoy myself without needing a man on my arm.”

  “You’ve already told me, you and your battery-operated boyfriend have dates, which I gotta say, Sunflower, much to my surprise, makes me a little jealous.” I wink at her and watch the tips of her ears turn red.

  “You can forget I blurted that out.”

  “Wish I could, Sunflower.” Truth be told, if we stand here much longer, it’s going to be obvious how turned on I am with that visual. I am forcing myself not to think of her naked and wanting, in that position.

  “Torque, if it will make you go away, then I’ll be your plus one, but the rules are simple: no touching me in any way that looks like a PDA in front of Bowie.”

  PDA? “What the hell is a PDA?”

  “Really? You’re going to make me spell it out?” She huffs indignantly, which only looks humorous.

  “I can’t be bothered Googling, so...” I wave my hand about silently giving her permission to continue with a breakdown of those letters.

  She clears her throat, crosses her arms across her chest, which is clearly her feeling-uncomfortable-body-language pose, then she tilts her chin up at me while her whole face gradually warms to a sexy flushed gradient of color. “I meant—seeing as you aren’t in the twenty-first century—there will be no public displays of affection in front of Bowie.”

  A bold laugh explodes from me. I honestly can’t help it. A female has never given me a rule before, let alone one in the negative because they are all for putting their hands all over me.

  “Sunflower, I’ve gotta ask a personal question. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but how old are you?”

  “What has that got to do with my rule of PDA?”

  “Nothin’, I’m just curious how a guy my age, which by the way is at level four of life, has never met a woman like you before. I figure you look twenty-five, but you have to be older, or you were only sixteen or seventeen when you had Bowie.”

  “Level four?”

  “Forty years old. Now, I told you mine; it’s only fair you tell me yours.”

  “I’m twenty-six and a half. You look... um...” She hesitates and swallows the rest of that sentence.

  “I look...? Come on, Sunflower, don’t leave me hanging. I look old?” I slam a hand against my solid chest as though she has wounded me.

  “No!” Her hands fly out in front of her, warding me away from that thought. “That’s not what I was going to say. You look perfect for level four.” And doesn’t that make me want to break her number one rule, already.

  “Perfect...huh?” I tease, but she doesn’t take the bait and continues to be a female who has me wanting to follow her around to see what makes her tick. A woman like her carries no ego, and I can’t for the life of me, figure out why she hasn’t got herself a man on board.

  “Well, you better get going, and I’ll bring Bowie over in a few minutes. We’ve been standing here talking for too long; Whisper might want to leave soon.”

  She waits for me to disconnect the invisible line that has tethered us.

  I’ve estimated all up it’s been about twenty-five minutes since we should have left for Cuvier Park. Flora wants me gone. She’s uncomfortable with what she just admitted to me. Flora’s balancing out the scales by telling me she will bring her son over. She doesn’t want me coming back to get Bowie. She needs to bring the balance back to her position as an independent woman who doesn’t need a male assisting her.

  The thing is there’s nothing more—I’m discovering—I want to do than lighten her load and be someone male she can come to for support. I don’t understand where all this is coming from, but it’s coming, and I feel it, and I want to see where it will lead me.

  There’s no insta-love; that’s just crap.

  It is insta-curious.

  Insta-I-am-attracted-to-this-female-like-something-I-don’t-understand.

  Insta-connection.

  Insta-friend.

  Insta-want-to-get-to-know-you-more.

  I’m at the mercy of the current that has swept me up, so I decide to float along with it until I get to a destination.

  I could so easily stay here and talk to this woman for longer, but I need to cut her loose for now and get my road rash looked over. The skin is stinging like a colony of ants is attacking me.

  “See you later, Sunflower.” I let the smile tip up the corners of my mouth when I see her scowl at my nickname for her and turn on my heel and take a few steps.

  “Torque...” she gasps, making me whirl around and stare at her horrified face. It’s the first time she’s let herself use my name correctly.

  “What the fuck, Sunflower?” I’m looking around for danger, ready to smother her body with mine, but I can’t see anything.

  “Your back...” she says quietly. Next thing she’s walking around behind me lifting my shirt up. “You’re injured? You’ve got blood on your ruined suit slacks and your shirt and vest are shredded in places.”

  I shrug. “I did dive to help Boxer catch your kid from impending doom. It isn’t a soft landing,” I tell her trying to act matter of fact.

  My dick decides it has other ideas. It’s getting hard, liking the way she’s touching my back as she examines me while I stand here helpless to pull away. I stand as still as a statue, my breath catching. I want to unbutton my vest and peel my shirt off so she can touch more of my skin.

  Insta-lust can get added to the list.

  “Why didn’t you say anything, Torque? You must be hurting.”

  “I’ll live.”

  “Do you want me to take a look at your back at least?”

  You have no idea how
much.

  “Nope, I’ll get myself checked over when I get back to Whisper’s house. I’ll be fine.” I look over my shoulder, catching her bent over examining my butt. A grin kicks into gear. “You perving on my ass, Sunflower?”

  She snaps to attention, moving around to face me. “Of course not! I’m just concerned you’re in pain,” she replies, her porcelain features dialing up to a delightful rosy hue.

  “Could’ve sworn you had your eyes glued to my gluteus maximus—in case you were wondering—yes, I do hit the gym.” I can’t help toying with her.

  “Really? You think I’m impressed by your tight ass?” She shoots a delicate brow back at me. Sassy is back in the house.

  Now I’m full-on high beaming her with my pearly-whites. “Seriously, I could banter with you all day, but we have a wedding to get to, and considering I’m the driver, I better get my impressive gluteus maximus back next-door so that this show can get on the road.”

  “Of course.”

  “Sunflower, do me a favor and save a seat at the ceremony for me.” I cast the fishing line out to test our new plus one status.

  “What? Why?” From the deepening color on her face, she knows exactly why. “And it’s Flora!” She attempts to sound annoyed.

  “Well, for starters I think you owe me that much because my ass is sure to be painful to sit on for the rest of the day and remember”—I point to myself—”you and I equals a plus one combination. That’s what a plus one would do.” I don’t give a flying fig about the excuse I give for the honor of sitting with her. “And I know what your name is, but today you are Sunflower or would you rather I called you Plus-one?”

  She rolls her pretty eyes at me. “Whatever. I’m doing this for your ass. Now go get it looked at.” Then she turns on her heel, dismissing me.

  I walk off feeling pretty high on this female.

  Edge, you’ve been holding out on me.

  Whisper gives me the keys to the seven-seater black SUV, and I head toward their garage with my heels in one hand because I’m not driving with those ankle-twisters on.

  I drop my phone onto the passenger seat and start to reverse when I hear the ‘ping’ I knew was sure to come. I ignore it until I am outside the gates, and the second ‘ping’ hits my phone demanding attention.

  “I haven’t got time for this, boys,” I mutter to the air filling the cabin.

  My phone starts singing to me, and I know they won’t let up until I answer. I get it; it’s their job to question anything out of the scheduled day’s proceedings.

  I pull over, place the phone in the holder and hit speaker, and start driving again.

  “Phoenix, sweetheart, how are you doing this fine day for an expensive wedding?” Devil’s proper Londoner accent greets my ears. He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Shouldn’t all you pretty fillies and one bride be on your merry way to Cuvier Park by now? Where would you be taking your pretty self at this time?”

  “Hi, Devil, and thank you for reminding me we all have a wedding to attend,” I say with a dash of sarcasm. “I’m just running a quick errand over to Boxer’s house, and maybe raid Slade’s closet, and then we will be good to leave.” There is all truth in what I just said. “Okay, goodby—”

  “Slow down there, missy. Now you know my first port of call would be Boxer, but he’s conveniently not answering his phone and don’t think for a second that Zayne and I didn’t see the blood on the back of Boxer’s head and his torn suit because top-of-the-range-security-equipment, remember? Zoom technology is our friend. So, what should we be telling Edge? You know he’s going to cut our balls off if there is something we should be reporting into him where Whisper and his family are concerned and I’m very attached to mine.”

  “Let’s just say Boxer took a tumble and smashed his head against the road and Evelyn has him covered,” I reply with another honest answer.

  “Whyyyy?” Zayne joins in on a sing-song.

  “Old age?”

  “Try again, missy.” Devil’s tone means to coerce me into supplying more information.

  “How about you boys let me drive safely without the chitchat? Boxer isn’t ignoring your call; he’ll be busy getting stitched up by Doc Evelyn, and I am sure he will keep you up-to-date with the shenanigans that have taken place when he gets some time. All is well, and Whisper will hopefully be back in the stretch Hummer within a half an hour, and yes, she will be getting word to Edge of her impending late arrival, and no, you don’t need to notify the groom about anything as Boxer will take care of what he deems necessary. Rest assure your balls will be safe from Edge.”

  “You know this is why Edge and Boxer pay us the big bills, don’t you, sweetheart? We are your friendly voyeurs making sure Whisper, and all the beautiful ladies and children don’t need us to call in the two men, Edge has stationed three blocks away ready to be notified if there are any issues,” Zayne enlightens me.

  “This I don’t doubt, Zayne. All is good. We do have Torque here, and he’s quite capable and armed. Don’t think I don’t know he will have a weapon close by at all times. What I can have a guess at is you and Devil, are a bit bored and are looking for gossip, and I’m not about to feed it to you. You both know perfectly well Boxer will call you immediately if we need any protection. Now disconnect so I can get on with my errand, so Boxer has something clean to wear. It’s as exciting as a clean suit the reason I’m in the family SUV and nothing more.”

  “Ahhh… so Doc won the bet,” Devil chimes back in.

  These men are always betting on the silliest things, not that I haven’t joined in a time or two. I’m just miffed I didn’t get an invite into the betting pool.

  “I guess we can both leave you alone now, sweetheart,” Zayne pipes back into the conversation. He’s a sweet guy with boy next door looks. He’s got a swimmer’s body: broad shoulders with that whole tapered waist thing going on, which lends itself to a lean strength. His short blond hair often flops about in his face hanging over the frames of his glasses. He’s not as tall as Devil, who is at least six feet, three inches. He’s quieter than Devil and is very thoughtful. Zayne comes with old school manners. He’ll open the door for you, regardless of gender and he’ll be the first to offer to buy a round of drinks.

  “Damn, I was enjoying our conversation, missy.” Devil sounds more than a little amused. Devil is very good at what he does, and he knows he’s good looking. Think tall dark and devilishly handsome in that Henry Cavill way, although the guy looks like there’s Italian in his blood, but I’ve never taken the time to ask about his life. Devil’s a ladies’ man, and that gets old quick. At a guess, I would say he’s around twenty-seven-years old. He’s cocky and at times overconfident, but I know he would go down with the ship if it means saving every last woman and child.

  I’m a private investigator, and I’ve learned there are a lot of untrustworthy people walking around waiting to hustle and con their way through life. They are the dicks-of-society. Boxer and Edge trust both men, and that’s good enough for me.

  “Okay, guys, time to disconnect and I’ll give you a wave when I get back to the house.”

  Devil takes the hint and then I’m left with Sam Hunt on the radio and Body Like A Back Road to keep me company.

  Ten minutes later I pull into Boxer’s driveway. A thought occurs to me. In all the shenanigans I bet nobody thought to keep Juan in the loop.

  I grab my phone and start typing.

  Me: We’re all going to be about forty minutes late

  No need to panic

  Whisper is fine

  Boxer is good

  Torque’s gonna have trouble sitting but he’s good

  I hope Raine can pull out some of his greatest hits

  That was a joke

  Sort of

  Everything is under control

  I repeat no need to panic

  I’ll message when we are on our way

  I’ve roomed with Juan’s hubby—Holland—in the past when they were relatively new to d
ating each other. At the time, I needed to give my twin brother, Retro, space to be with his girl, Birdie.

  Holland, the owner of Freestyle, an art gallery in La Jolla and I hit it off becoming firm friends almost straight away. Birdie and I swapped residences, back then, and life continued on its merry way.

  Juan and Holland’s love turned into the real deal, and the rest is history.

  I couldn’t imagine them not being a couple.

  Juan: Whoa, girlfriend!

  Back it up right there

  Please assure me the bride is not hurt

  Me: Can’t do that

  Whisper’s story to tell

  Need you to keep the show rolling along calmly at your end

  Juan: Is Whisper okay???!!!

  Not liking the sound of those messages

  I trust you and that strapping man Torque and Boxer will have everything under control at your end

  Remaining calm

  Me: Yup

  There’s been a series of unfortunate events

  The bride doesn’t want the groom freaking out

  Juan: Oh, boy!

  Okay, honey, I’m your man

  Keep me posted and good luck

  Me: I’ll be leaving Boxer’s home in a few minutes

  Juan: Do I want to know?

  Me: Nope!

  Juan: Remaining calm

  Over and Out

  I’m unlocking Boxer’s front door when my phone ‘pings.’ I could ignore it, but I know who it is.

  Slade: Firebird, what are you doing at Boxer’s place at a time like this?

  The damn behemoth is tracking my phone. Something must have alerted Slade to checking where I am.

  Me: Last-minute suit change

  Slade: Really? You gonna play it that way are you?