by Jody Wallace
“Then we should.” He brought his knees up and leaned on his elbows, which brought his face within a foot of hers. He clasped her sticky hand between his and gazed at her earnestly. “I want you to be happy.”
Earnest. It wasn’t how she wanted him to look at her. But that’s all she got.
“I will be,” she assured him. It might take a while, but she’d get over Dan, maybe even get over Heck.
“Do you…” He licked his lips, glancing at his watch and back at her face. What was going on in that thick head of his? “I think you have cold feet.”
“I think you’re the one with cold feet.” She couldn’t concentrate with him holding her hand. His knees brushing hers. Icing on his cheek, cake all over her. And dammit, she was horny. For him. She was one glass of champagne away from showing him exactly why she’d waited so long to get serious with another man.
Because none of them were him.
Where was that champagne?
“Me? I’m not the one getting married tomorrow. How can I have cold feet?” His fingers tightened on her hand. “I’m here to support you. We’ve always been friends, Caro, and we always will be, whether you like it or not.”
She liked it. She hated it. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s the truth.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” she said with an awkward half laugh. “Do you think I don’t know what’s going on here?”
His lips twisted. “I doubt it.”
Well, neither did he. Caroline forced a twisted smile to echo his. “If I move to Atlanta, who’s going to be your date to all the weddings and baby showers? You can’t take Tag. He’s always got some girl on his arm.”
“Jhi,” he suggested. When her jaw dropped, he laughed. “Kidding.”
High heels rapped on the scuffed wooden floorboards of the den.
“Did I hear my name?” Jhi asked.
“Speak of the devil,” Heck muttered.
Jhi halted when she noticed them bent together as if they were exchanging secrets. “Herman, you dog. Did you finally kiss the bride?”
Heck scooted his chair away so fast it honked on the hardwood. “No.”
“You should.” Jhi sashayed over with a lot more hip than was necessary. She held an uncorked champagne bottle at her waist. “She’s a good kisser.”
Caroline rolled her eyes. Her hand itched as the icing dried on it like a mud mask.
Heck didn’t take the bait. “No more throwing food in my house, Jhi, or you’re cleaning it up.”
“Who’s going to clean your tux?” she asked. “Or are you hoping you don’t have to use it?”
Heck’s brows raised. “Why would I not have to use my tux?”
“I don’t know.” Jhi filled the champagne glass at her place setting. “Maybe if you skip the wedding.”
“I’m not about to let you be maid of honor and take all the credit,” Heck said. “You’d have dragged the girls to some sleazy bar in Memphis if you’d been in charge, and instead, here we are.”
“Here we are indeed.” Jhi filled Heck’s and Caroline’s glasses.
Caroline reached for her flute and its chagrin-erasing bubbles. Her two best friends, her supporters. No more dithering. She owed them the truth. It was going to be difficult to explain since she needed to leave out the part about being in love with Heck, but if she told them together, Jhi could help prevent Heck from hauling ass to Atlanta.
Then again, Jhi might hand him his keys.
“Drink up, kids.” Jhi raised her glass. “You in particular, Herman. You’ve been acting like you’ve got a poker up your ass all night.”
Caro let the champagne bubbles pop on her lips before she sipped, remembering how Heck had rejected her in the limo. She should have faked drunkenness and laid one on him. Tongue and all. Then she could have told Dan the dirty details and given him a real reason to be jealous and insecure.
“I’m the host. I have a job to do.” Heck ignored his flute and crossed his arms. “I can’t tie one on.”
“Your job is almost done,” Jhi pointed out. “Especially if the wedding gets called off.”
Caroline’s spine stiffened. Had Jhi overheard? She couldn’t have. Heck had shut everyone in the guest bedroom while Caroline had been on the phone, and she hadn’t been yelling at Dan that loudly. But one thing was for sure. Nothing good ever came of Jhi getting a bee like this in her bonnet. Trouble was her Caucasian name.
“Why would the wedding get called off?” she asked cautiously.
“Yeah, why would it get called off?” Heck demanded. “We did all this work, and Caro loves Dan. Don’t you, Caro?”
“I guess.” She stared at Heck’s throat, which was reddening as he grew annoyed. She cared for Dan and understood his jealousy, but it didn’t feel like love anymore. Since his ultimatum had spawned several of the saddest weeks of her life as she wrestled with her conscience, her heart, and her future, it might be satisfying if she did sic Heck—and, good gravy, Jhi—on him.
But Dan wasn’t the only one to blame. She’d said yes, after all. He hadn’t done anything wrong except fall for a woman whose heart was too full of her childhood friend.
“You guess?” Heck and Jhi said together. They exchanged startled glances and then a mutual scowl.
First she’d prove she was handling it well.
“I care for Dan a great deal,” she said evenly. “He’s a good person, and we share many interests.”
“Love is only part of it.” Jhi calmly inspected her nails. “A wedding could get called off for any number of reasons. Food poisoning. Tornadic weather patterns. Changes of heart.”
Caroline’s face heated like a stove. “Who’s going to have this change of heart?”
“Dan hasn’t bothered to show up for the rest of it. Who knows what he’ll do? He’s a loose cannon, that wild man Dan.”
“I’ll kick his ass,” Heck muttered.
“Was that Dan who called earlier?” Jhi asked.
“Caterer,” she said in a strained voice. Holy crap, Jhi did know something. “So, um, there’s been a slight change of plans. It’s not a huge deal, so I don’t want anyone to overreact.”
“The caterer must have had a big snafu, to call this late at night.” Jhi smiled. “I don’t think we should use her for the next wedding.”
“I want to hear this thing that’s not a huge deal,” Heck said in a growly voice. His murderous expression promised cold, calculated vengeance. For the caterer. For any troublemakers. Shit. Caroline needed a surefire way to defuse him.
How did one defuse Herman Edward Heckley III?
Jhi glanced between them. “You realize why Caro’s hemming and hawing, right? You tend to overreact.”
“Do you know something I don’t?” Heck snapped, not bothering to deny it. “I’m supposed to know everything. I’m the maid of honor.”
“I know all sorts of things you don’t.” Jhi sipped her champagne. “Where should I begin? World history? Geography? Men’s fashion?”
It would help the defusing if Jhi weren’t being a butthole.
Heck practically growled. “Caro, what’s going on? You’d better tell us.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Damn Jhi, rattling his cage! Now Heck was riled up. She needed to get Jhi alone, find out what exactly she knew, and brainstorm a way to appease Heck’s wrath, except Jhi would be thrilled if Heck assaulted Dan. Then one guy she hated would be in pain and another would be in jail.
“Is Dan not coming?” Heck looked furious and cheerful at the same time, which meant he was probably imagining what he was going to do to Dan.
“Not tonight,” Jhi said. “Remember? He didn’t want to shell out for a room at the Astaria.”
“Cheapskate.” Heck leaned back in the chair and loosened his collar. His jacket was crumpled in a corner, smeared with icing. The tuxedo shirt tightened on his broad chest, buttons straining. The pants weren’t the only part of the tux that was too small.
; Dan was a cheapskate, sure. Heck, on the other hand, was practical. According to Heck. Well, she was the one who’d taught him about upcycling.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Heck declared. “That peckerhead better not pull any stunts with Caro, now or in the future, or he’ll have me to deal with.”
“I’m sure he’s aware of your feelings for the bride.” Jhi smiled and flicked a piece of cake at Heck. “Not sure you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, his cheeks flushing. “I know exactly how I feel about Caroline. She’s my friend. Look at all this stuff I did for her party.”
Caroline, praying Heck wouldn’t notice, caught Jhi’s eye and pretended to slit her own throat in hopes of shutting her up. This was not how the big revelation needed to go.
Jhi’s smile broadened. “Right, the stuff for the party. You owe me a manicure. Your toxic waste masquerading as icing ruined my topcoat.”
“I propose a toast.” Caroline held up her glass before her friends could continue their never-ending squabble. Whoever had said opposites attracted hadn’t met Heck and Jhi. “To Heck.”
“To heck with Heck,” Jhi countered.
“Oh, shut up,” he said. But he downed his glass and held it out for more.
Chapter Six
Getting drunk seemed like a great idea at this point, even if Jhi had been the one to suggest it. Heck didn’t have to drive the girls home thanks to the limo, and everywhere he looked, he saw Caroline. Caroline and her amazing curves, which he was never, ever going to get his hands on.
That purple dress was worse than the wedding gown, and a constant reminder that she was leaving him tomorrow. The more he drank, the madder he got. He’d tried to talk to Caroline. Share his honest misgivings about her future. But he hadn’t been able to get her to admit that Dan didn’t want them to stay friends, which was fucking ridiculous.
Or it had been until a couple days ago.
Maybe Dan wasn’t so ridiculous, which did nothing to alleviate Heck’s frustration.
Jhi and Caroline, who’d disappeared for a confab, reentered the dining room. Jhi handed him another drink and Caro sank into her chair. She looked tired and sad, and her makeup was smeary again.
“Where have you two been?” he asked suspiciously.
“I had to explain to the bride what happens on the wedding night since Beatrice isn’t here to do it,” Jhi said. “Want to know what I told her?”
“Something that made her cry?”
“Hush,” Caroline grumbled. “That’s not what we discussed. We—I—need to tell you that thing I mentioned. Like I said, not a big deal, and it’s all on me. Nobody else.”
Finally. He braced himself to hear Caro say they couldn’t see each other anymore and try to claim it was her idea. “Lay it on me.”
Interrupting Caroline, the other party guests returned to the dining room, armed with champagne, brooms, and rags. He told them to knock it off, but they proceeded to vanquish the mess they’d created anyway.
“You don’t have to do this,” he protested, not as firmly as he could have. Hey, he didn’t want to clean house, and they did have thirty minutes before they needed to be in position for his surprise.
When Caroline tried to help, he put his hand on her shoulder—her bare shoulder—and trapped her in the chair.
“You’re the bride,” he reminded her, although to him it sounded like a curse. “You give people orders.”
She’d taken the ribbon bow off her head, and her hair had come unpinned. A curl brushed his fingers when she glanced up at him. “Do I get to order you around?”
“You bet.” What might she want him to do? If she instructed him to kiss the bride again, he had a Jack and Coke under his belt now, and it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Screw Dan. There was more than one way to stop a wedding. “Your wish is my command, all that stuff.”
“All that stuff?” Her eyes sparkled as she smiled, and he smiled back. “I like stuff.”
He couldn’t think of a response, so he spoke with his eyes—he’d read about folks doing that in some of those romance books. He’d give her anything she wanted. At least he finally understood why his marriage had flopped and why he didn’t mess around with other women.
It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t boobs. It wasn’t his dislike of change.
He’d been in love with his best friend for years and had been too stupid to realize it.
Too stupid. But was it too late?
“What did you want to tell me?” he asked. “I swear I won’t overreact.”
If she didn’t come clean, he’d have to broach the topic himself, and he’d rather she do it. He’d rather she be honest instead of him forcing it out of her. Then maybe he could convince her not to get married.
“It can wait.”
“You sure?”
In response, Caroline slipped a hand around his legs, above the knee, and patted him. Like a dog at first, but she left her hand there. So he kept his hand on her shoulder. In another minute, it felt less like she was petting a dog and more like she wanted to pull him against her.
Probably his imagination. She’d been drinking. She got huggy when she’d been drinking, though not usually with him. He should walk away. But her skin was so silky. He hoped somebody took a picture of them and showed it to Dan. Fucker.
Actually, that wasn’t a half-bad idea. Who had a camera phone? And Dan’s number?
“What’s next?” Caro asked.
“This and that.” He checked the clock. It was almost time, and he needed everyone in the den. Afterward, they’d finish the night with that “Is he too jealous for comfort?” quiz. “Do you want to go somewhere and talk?”
“We’re having too much fun for my little drama right now,” she said, brushing stray cake crumbs off her chest. “I promise, I’ll tell you later.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” He lost track of his thoughts when one of her straps slid down her arm. Her shoulder was so warm and sleek, he couldn’t resist rubbing it. Caressing her neck as though he had that right. Her arm tightened around his legs.
He loved touching her. He loved the fact that she was touching him. He wished he could keep touching her and…
“Coming through.” Lisa poked him in the ass with a broom handle, reminding him that Caroline might not like to be treated like a piece of meat any more than he did. He let go of her shoulder.
Sally knelt on the floor with a dustpan in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other, waiting for Lisa to make a crumb deposit. “Where did you get this champagne, Heck? This brand is not cheap.”
“I know a guy.” He’d done some work for the owner of a liquor store the next town over, but since they’d made the deal under the table, he wasn’t about to share facts. “I wouldn’t serve you ladies cheap booze.”
“He always knows a guy.” Caroline arched her back with a sigh, which thrust out her chest in a way Heck couldn’t ignore. What a great dress. What a great dress he wished he could take off of her.
Broom handle again. Right in the bunghole.
“Goddammit, Lisa.” This time Heck slapped the broom away. Was Lisa sexually harassing him or trying to keep him from harassing Caroline? “How old are you?”
Undaunted, Lisa chuckled. “Old enough, baby. You might know a guy, but you don’t know many girls.”
“I know at least eleven,” he stated before finishing his drink. Although he looked forward to everyone’s reaction to what was about to happen in, oh, ten minutes, he wished a certain partygoer had never been invited to the wedding.
But he did need to hustle everyone into their assigned spots in the den. He was truly a martyr to this cause.
“Ladies,” he said, “this looks great. It’s cleaner than it was to start with.” He took the dustpan from Sally and chucked it onto the table. He’d deal with it later. “What do you say we all—”
A loud, blaring honk from the porch interrupted their activities. A knock thundered on the front door.
/> “Maybe it’s Dan,” Jhi said with a laugh, “having a change of heart.”
Adrenaline surged through Heck. If it was Dan, busting in here all suspicious and whiny, he’d give the guy something to be jealous about, all right.
But then he remembered. The surprise.
An amplified voice yelled, “This is the police. Open up.”
“The cops? Fuck!” Frances threw down her sponge and hightailed it out of the room.
Several women screamed. Sally collapsed into a chair.
“Oh, my God, is somebody dead?”
“Maybe there’s an escaped criminal.”
Heck raced toward the door, trying to reach it before anyone else. “Shonda, don’t.”
Shonda beat him to the knob and wrenched it open. “Verne Goetz, is that you out there? I thought I saw you following us through town.”
“No,” a deep voice said. “This is not Officer Goetz. Please stand aside, young lady. We have a search warrant.”
Spotlights shone into the house. All the ladies except Frances, who’d disappeared, brandished rags and brooms and rushed into the foyer to see what was going on.
“The hell you have a warrant,” Shonda exclaimed.
“It’s okay.” Heck shouldered everyone aside. Dammit, dammit, dammit. “Go to the den and let me handle this. You should, uh, sit in the places where I put your names.”
The spotlights silhouetted two uniformed figures in distinctively shaped hats. One was taller than the other, and the short one was holding the megaphone. Heck squinted and realized the spotlights were high-intensity flood lamps on top of a pickup truck.
“Tallwood cops don’t wear hats like that,” he heard Caro tell somebody. “Is that county?”
“Open up,” the guy with the megaphone demanded. “We’ve received a report of suspicious activities on these premises, and we’ll need to interrogate everyone here.”
“Interrogate?” several women asked nervously.
The tall guy grabbed the megaphone. “Yeah,” he said in a thick, country accent. “Somebody’s been a baaa-aaad girl.”