“Accio hottie!” Ana commanded, slashing her penis through the air.
Giggles erupted. “That’s the spirit.” Tabitha patted Ana on the back with her own wand. “And for our bride, we have…” She reached into the tote bag she carried and pulled out a large gold object hung on a chain-loop belt. “The Golden Snatch!”
“Oh my God,” Sadie said, eyes wide with horror. “It’s hideous.”
“It’s hilarious!” Ana chortled, handing the belt to Cassie. “Put it on, B2B!”
“B2B?” Cassie asked, wrapping the belt around her waist.
“Bride to be,” Ana explained, helping Cassie adjust the snatch.
“You know what they say,” Bonnie added, “first one to catch it, wins!”
Cassie glanced up, lips quirking with glee. “Did you just make a sex joke and a Harry Potter reference?”
“Um, yeah.” Bonnie returned the grin. “I guess I did.”
“Well done.” Ana tapped the head of her wand against Bonnie’s.
“Bitches! Or should I say, witches!” Done dispensing novelty items, Tabitha gathered their attention again. “Do you solemnly swear to be up to no good tonight?”
The girls whistled and cat-called, penis wands twirling.
“Then it’s time to get this party started!” She turned, the cape she wore flaring out dramatically. Everyone gathered their things and hurried to catch up.
“That’s really Theo’s sister?” Cassie whispered, watching as Tabitha sashayed through the Charing Cross station ticket barrier.
“I know. Hard to believe, right?” Bonnie smiled. She knew Theo had a wild side too, he just preferred to keep it hidden. “And she’s been great, helped me plan everything. To be honest, she did all of the planning, said she really loves this kind of thing.”
“Hmm.” Cassie grinned. “Too bad she wasn’t available to plan my wedding.”
“You’re getting married in a castle,” Bonnie reminded her, stepping on the escalator behind Cassie. “I’d say your wedding is going to be fine.”
“Yeah, but remember all the ‘fun wedding stuff’ I talked about doing? I haven’t had time for any of it.”
“Champagne problem. You have a thriving career,” Bonnie said, hopping over to the next escalator and continuing down to the underground station. “Look, you already have the location. You have the dress, right?”
“Picked it up this morning; it’s packed and ready.”
“And you have the cake.”
“Logan’s mam is making it.”
“And you have the groom.”
“He better be there.” Cassie waved her penis wand menacingly as a train pulled up.
Bonnie laughed. “See? You’re all set. Don’t worry about the future, focus on the now.”
“What’s going on?’ Cassie pretended to inspect Bonnie carefully as they settled into a train car. “Are you the real Bonnie, or did someone take a red curl from her head and make a Polyjuice Potion?”
“You realize most of these references are flying over my head, right?”
“I’d think that was impossible, considering how much you read, but then I remember you prefer books written before women were allowed to wear pants.” Cassie gave Bonnie an affectionate poke with her wand. “Now you know how I feel when you’re spouting Shakespeare all the time.”
“Not all the time!”
“Fine,” Cassie relented. “Sometimes you throw an Austen quote in too.”
Bonnie laughed. “Is it wrong to admit I have a line from Jane Austen in my maid of honor speech?”
“Don’t tell me!” Cassie held up a palm. “That’s gotta be bad luck of some kind.”
Following “Headmistress Tabitha’s” orders once again, they exited the Tube and made their way up Clapham High Street to a nightclub. “Enter! Professor Gwen is waiting with your drink tickets!”
Inside the club, Bonnie spotted Tabitha’s friend from that night in Piccadilly standing guard over an empty table. Gwen waved, and Bonnie led the way toward her through the crowd, Tabitha bringing up the rear.
“Nice to see you again.” Gwen grinned at Bonnie, handing over the drink tickets.
“We’ll take those, thank you.” Sadie plucked the tickets from Bonnie’s hand.
“Be right back,” Ana added with a saucy wink from beneath the brim of her witch hat before following Sadie to the bar.
Bonnie shook her head. “That’s Ana and Sadie,” she told Gwen. “Otherwise known as double trouble.”
“I believe it.” Gwen chuckled.
“I’m Delaney, but you can call me Laney.” Delaney shook Gwen’s hand, her eyes tracking Ana and Sadie’s progress at the bar. “If you excuse me a minute, I’m going to go referee those two.”
“She can’t help it,” Bonnie explained. “Laney is a preschool teacher.”
“Ah.” Gwen nodded and turned to Cassie. “And you must be the bride.”
“Thanks so much for helping out!” Cassie gushed.
“You’re having fun, then?” Gwen asked.
“Best bachelorette party ever.”
“Oh, just you wait, it’s going to get even better,” Tabitha promised. She exchanged a sly, secret smile with Gwen, but before Bonnie could ask what that was all about, Sadie and Ana returned, carrying trays of shots.
Delaney trailed behind, carrying a fishbowl-sized margarita glass.
“I thought you were going to ‘referee’ them, Ms. Mason,” Bonnie teased.
“Ms. Mason knows a lost cause when she sees one.”
Bonnie laughed, watching as Delaney tried to navigate the straw into her mouth while holding the giant glass with both hands.
“Here.” Ana passed Bonnie a shot glass.
“What’s in this?” Bonnie asked, sniffing the drink. She caught a whiff of cinnamon and high-octane alcohol.
“Liquid Luck,” Sadie said, putting a shot glass in each of Cassie’s hands before raising one of her own. “To the bride and groom!”
Everyone lifted their glass in the air, repeating the toast. People passing their table stopped to shout congratulations as well as offer bawdy suggestions. Cassie giggled, smiling radiantly as she slapped her two empty glasses on the table. “Mmm, Ffffelix Ffffelicis,” she fizzed.
“They say third time’s the charm,” Tabitha insisted, and pushed another glass toward Cassie with the tip of her wand. “One more shot?”
“You’re as bad as they are,” Bonnie told Theo’s sister, nodding her head at Ana and Sadie.
“Hey, a bride needs a little luck on her wedding night,” Sadie said.
“’Cause you know she’s getting lucky,” Ana added, toasting her partner in crime. “Am I right?”
“Fine, one more,” Bonnie agreed, eyeing her friend’s pink cheeks and bright eyes. When it came to booze, Cassie was almost as much of a lightweight as she was.
Several more than one shot of Liquid Luck later, Headmistress Tabitha herded the group toward the stage. The club featured a male dance show, and for the next hour or so the bride-to-be and her band of merry mischief makers were entertained by Vikings, gladiators, and cowboys. Currently, several buff guys dressed as cops and firemen were onstage, gyrating to the pounding bass.
“This is doing absolutely zero for me,” Delaney grumbled.
“The drink or the dance?” Tabitha wondered.
“The dance,” Bonnie answered for Delaney, who was too busy still sucking down a gallon of tequila from her fishbowl. “Delaney has issues when it comes to men in uniform.”
“Who doesn’t love a hot firefighter?” Gwen asked.
“Me.” Delaney pointed her penis wand at herself.
The number wrapped up, and the announcer returned to the stage. Bonnie turned to Tabitha. “We should probably get going soon; we have to catch the sleeper at nine.”
“Just one more dance, okay?” Tabitha leaned closer to Bonnie and whispered, “And make sure the bride is watching.”
“What trouble are you brewing?”
; “Oh, trust me.” Tabitha grinned, dimples just like her brother’s making an appearance. “Something magical is about to happen.”
Damn, why did they have to look so much alike? Now she was thinking about Theo. Bonnie stepped closer to Cassie, making sure to keep her friend penned in between herself, Delaney, Ana, and Sadie.
The announcer prowled the stage, mic in hand. “Week after week, our show brings you the hottest bachelors in London,” he began, “but tonight, for one night only, we have something extra special for you.”
The crowd whooped with anticipation, and the announcer waved his arms, revving them up some more. The lights on the stage dimmed as the beat of a drum began to pound through the speakers. Bonnie glanced at Cassie, wondering if she recognized the rhythmic thump of a bodhran.
Over the slowly rising beat, the announcer continued, “Direct from the Highlands of Scotland, joining us to celebrate his second-to-last night of FREEDOM…” He bellowed the word, Braveheart style, and the crowd roared.
“It’s not…” Cassie turned to Bonnie, “… is it?”
Bonnie shrugged. “If it is, I didn’t know about it.” She thought there was a good chance it could be, but she hadn’t been part of any such plan. She turned, seeking confirmation from their head witch, but Tabitha’s attention was glued to the stage as the announcer wrapped up the introduction.
“Ladies, please give a warm, wet welcome to Chicago late-night host and former star of the UK internet sensation Shenanigans … sexy Scot, Loooooogan Reid!”
The crowd went wild as a spotlight cut through the smoky darkness onstage, shining over a pair of sturdy boots. The low whine of bagpipes joined the drums, and the spotlight crept higher, revealing the strong lines of a man’s naked calves, a little higher, and the plaid pleats of a kilt were revealed. The room burst into hysterics, women screaming, whistling, and cat-calling.
As the drums and pipes increased in speed and volume, the audience began to clap, and the circle of light grew in size, until finally, every inch of Cassie’s soon-to-be-husband, Mr. Sexy Scot himself, was revealed. As they watched, Logan turned to face the crowd, his gaze seeking Cassie’s. He winked, and eyes on her, began to dance.
“He’s got a nice ass, I’ll give him that,” Sadie observed.
“And he sure knows how to move it,” Ana added.
Bonnie leaned toward Tabitha. “How’d you pull this off?”
“Theo.” She smiled wickedly. “When your brother is the groom’s best mate, you can manage these things.”
Bonnie glanced around the club. “Is Theo here?”
Tabitha shook her head, smile fading. “He had to be somewhere else tonight—family obligation.”
Bonnie was dying to know what that meant, to ask why Tabitha was looking at her with such apology in her blue eyes. But she refused to pry. She changed the subject, nodding her head toward the stage. “He’s not going to get naked up there, is he?”
“He better not,” Cassie growled. She was smiling right now, enjoying the show, but Bonnie had a feeling her best friend’s mood might change if her fiancé’s exhibitionist personality got the best of him. On cue, his T-shirt went sailing overhead.
“Six-pack, twelve o’clock,” Ana said, sticking her index fingers in her mouth and emitting a loud, shrill whistle.
“Does he usually go commando under there?” Delaney asked Cassie, her gaze drifting up the Scot’s kilt.
“Is that the same as regimental?” Gwen asked, gaze moving in the same direction.
“That’s it,” Cassie said, grabbing on to the edge of the stage, “help me up.”
Laughing, Bonnie and the others hoisted Cassie onto the stage, so she could enjoy the show her hot Scot was putting on from a more up-close-and-personal angle. Bonnie thought Logan would end the number when he saw Cassie had joined him onstage, but instead, he gave his fiancée a devilish grin and pulled her body against his, dancing with her—for her. The crowd lost their damn minds.
All in all, it was a memorable performance.
* * *
In the wee hours of the night, in a dimly lit sleeper car on an overnight train headed to Inverness, Bonnie stared up at the ceiling of her compartment. The steady sway and rhythmic rumble of the train was soothing, and she should have fallen asleep ages ago. Especially after the shots of whiskey they did, toasting Logan and Cassie in the lounge car before turning in. But she couldn’t settle down. Her cheeks ached from smiling too much, and her heart ached from wanting too much.
Watching Logan and Cassie together tonight, the two of them playfully teasing each other, their obvious attraction, not to mention the love they so clearly shared … Bonnie was ashamed to admit it, but she was jealous. She’d been doing fine, but tonight, the old green-eyed monster had reared its ugly head.
Tabitha had asked her to be patient with Theo, to give him time. And she had. But not once had he reached out. The last time she saw him had been at his house, the last time she spoke to him were those few awkward words muttered during tea.
By morning, she’d be in Scotland. The next few days would be a whirlwind of wedding activities. After that, she’d be going home. And his time—their time—would be up.
CHAPTER 27
BY THE TIME Theo’s rental car reached the outskirts of Logan’s hometown in the Highlands, he only wanted three things: a stiff drink, a hot meal, and a soft bed. In that order. If things had gone as planned, he’d have watched Logan give his bride-to-be the surprise of her life, enjoying an evening out with his best mate. He’d have been on that sleeper car with everyone else. Tossed back a few pints or maybe a shot or two in the lounge car, then slept in one of the train’s new luxury cabins.
Instead, he’d kept his promise to his mother and accompanied Camille to another achingly dull event, where he spent the evening saying all the right things to all the right people, the whole time feeling like it was all wrong. Then he’d taken an early morning flight into Inverness and rented a car to make the drive to Lochalsh.
Finally, Theo pulled up to his friend’s childhood home. He switched off the key and sat for a minute, eyes closed, head slumped against the steering wheel. He was bloody exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Something hard banged loudly on the bonnet of the car. He jerked upright. “What the—”
Logan was leaning across the front windshield, staring in at him. “Theo! You made it, lad.”
“Barely,” Theo groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. “I feel like hell.”
“You look it.” Logan reached through the open window and clapped Theo on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Mam saved you some breakfast.”
Thoughts of Logan’s mother’s cooking were just enough motivation to convince his tired body to get moving again. He slid out of the car and followed his friend up the steps and into the house.
“Theo, laddie!” Logan’s mother, Fiona, wrapped him in a fierce hug, the faded red braid of her hair tickling his chin.
Both Logan and his sister, Janet, inherited their ginger locks from their mother. In her mid-fifties, plump and pretty, Logan’s mam was nothing like his own mum. Where Theodora Wharton was sharp, Fiona Reid was soft. Where his mother was cold and calculating, Logan’s mother was warm and tender. Theo knew his mother loved him, in her way. Deep down, though, he’d always longed for the sweet affection of a mother who cuddled and coddled. His mother was neither coddler nor cuddler.
A stab of guilt lanced him for the uncharitable thought as Theo returned the hug. “It’s good to see you.” He gave Fiona a peck on the cheek. “You look lovely as always.”
“Och, off with ye now,” Fiona cooed, running a hand over her hair. While still a vibrant shade of red, streaks of white threaded through the braid.
Theo wondered what Bonnie’s hair might look like as she aged. To be the man to grow old by her side, years filled with memories like the ones they’d shared at the cottage … An ache, painful in its intensity, lanced his heart.
“What’s troubling you?” Fiona asked.
“Sorry?” Theo shook himself.
“Woolgathering?” She clucked her tongue. “Ye must be tired after yer long drive. And famished. Let’s get something in your stomach, aye? Then you can have the afternoon to rest before the festivities tonight.” She patted his unshaven cheek. “Och, you’re a wee furry beastie!”
“Leave the poor man alone, Mam,” Logan said, handing Theo a finger of whiskey. “Here, to settle your nerves … and mine.”
Theo accepted the glass gratefully and tossed it back. Swallowing, he savored the smoky sting as the alcohol singed a path to his belly, burning away some of the lingering frustration of the last few days … hell, the last few weeks. The edge off his mood, Theo joined his friend at the wooden bench lining the long farmhouse table. “You’re just jealous I can grow a better beard than you.”
“Och, aye?” Logan raised a brow as he sipped his whiskey. “Well, I can throw a harder punch than you,” he teased; his brogue was always stronger when he came back home.
After meeting their first year at university, Theo and Logan had been best mates. Often trading stays at each other’s homes while on holiday. He’d kept it to himself, but Theo had always preferred spending time in Lochalsh than at the Abbey. Like the Lakeland Cottage, he felt more at home here than in his own house, more relaxed.
“Here you are, eat up.” Fiona set a plate in front of him, piled high with smoked kippers and fried potatoes.
“Could you fry me up some tatties too, Mam?” Logan asked as Theo dug into his meal.
“Ye already had two plates this morn with the lassies,” Fiona chided, even as she began dropping slices of potato into the frying pan.
Yep, coddled. “Where are the girls now?” Theo asked.
“After breakfast I drove them back over to the flats we’ve rented across from the castle.” Logan pulled the plate his mother set on the table closer. “Thanks, Mam.” He wolfed down a few forkfuls before adding, “They’re spending the day getting ready. I’ve no notion why, tonight’s just a practice run, aye?” He shrugged and downed a few more bites.
Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 29