Forever a Bridesmaid (Always a Bridesmaid Book 1)

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Forever a Bridesmaid (Always a Bridesmaid Book 1) Page 7

by Courtney Hunt


  “Not this again.” Erin shook her head, tugging her hand free.

  “I have to try,” Matthew said, flipping open his menu. “Now, what delightful Savannah dish are you havin’?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’ll have the chicken Caesar salad and an iced tea,” Erin said when the waiter appeared.

  “She’ll have the shrimp and grits and a pink lady. I’ll have the same but with a peach bourbon iced tea. And we’ll share an order of the crab beignets,” Matthew smiled as the waiter plucked their menus out of his hand and headed away.

  “Hey, I can order for myself,” Erin said, when the waiter departed. “What if I was allergic to shellfish?”

  “You’re not. You ate the shrimp and grit cakes last night, as well as the crab cakes,” Matthew answered as Erin blinked at his memory. How closely had he been watching her? “Besides, thought you wanted to sample all the delights Savannah has to offer.”

  “That depends what’s on the menu,” Erin said, looking full at him. His fingers tightened around hers and then, slowly, he smiled at her. Her heart tripped in her chest at the heat in that smile. If she relaxed her rules, Matthew’s smile showed a great deal of promise. She took a sip of her drink instead. Decorated with raspberries and looking like pink lemonade, it tasted wonderful. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was and took another long sip.

  “Careful, now, those pink ladies have a bite.”

  “What’s in them?”

  “Raspberry vodka and pink lemonade.” Matthew sipped his own bourbon laced peach tea and offered her a small round roll. She took it, scooping some dipping sauce onto her plate. They made short work of the delicious appetizer as Erin looked around the restaurant with interest. A converted antebellum mansion, the upstairs dining room boasted hardwood floors and chandeliers dripping with glittering crystal.

  “I’ll order ice water after this,” Erin said as the waiter presented her with a luscious looking plate of shrimp and grits. The succulent smell made her mouth water. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Both she and Matthew dug in to the full plates.

  “What is your favorite part about being a bridesmaid?” Matthew asked, when they’d both gotten partway through their meals.

  “The first dance. By then, the ceremony is over. The hard parts of the reception—the toast and the meal—are over. It’s the first moment the couple gets to relax and have to themselves. It’s the start of the party. Plus I always love to see what song the couple chooses.”

  “What song would you pick?”

  “I’m not getting married,” Erin said, too quickly, scooping up some creamy grits.

  “But just hypothetically, you have every detail planned, right?”

  Erin swallowed, heat creeping up her cheeks. “Not every woman wants to get married—”

  “You’re a professional bridesmaid. It’d be like me not being interested in Falling Water or the Eiffel Tower.” She pointedly took another bite of her food, not meeting his eyes. “Come on, Erin. You gonna tell me?”

  “That’s All by Nat King Cole.”

  “Good song,” Matthew nodded and then smirked at her. “And what color would the dresses be?”

  “Hush.” Erin shook her head and scooped up more grits as he laughed, his eyes crinkling he teased her.

  After lunch, they stopped so Erin could purchase souvenirs for Lauren and Dylan. When they left, Matthew carried a small turquoise bag as well as her purchases. As they strolled back to the B&B from the restaurant, they walked through Colonial Park Cemetery. Matthew casually claimed her hand again and Erin enjoyed letting him, as they strode along the winding path through the peaceful cemetery. Erin admired the old tombstones and the trees, dripping with moss, swaying in the breeze. By now, the promise of sun burst through the few remaining clouds, warming the day. Though nowhere near as warm as a Georgian summer, it was far warmer than Boston this time of year.

  “I spent the night here once. Or tried to,” Matthew said, swinging her hand as they walked.

  “Here? In a cemetery?”

  “Yep, it was a dare. Me and Shortie were fourteen. We were fascinated by the idea that duels were fought here and the loser buried on the spot. I stole some of my mama’s cherry wine and we came up here to see if we could spot the ghosts on Halloween.”

  “And did you?”

  “No, got sick behind a tree and ended up shivering in the cold. Truth be told, we were both glad when the cops showed up and hauled us home.”

  “I bet your mama was thrilled.”

  “Mama laughed. I’d learned my lesson from the wine and she didn’t punish me further.” Matthew smiled at the memory, and then shuddered as they turned onto Jones Street, in sight of the B&B. “I still hate cherries though.”

  “I think that’s understandable,” Erin said.

  When they stopped in front of Watsons, he handed her the turquoise bag from the shop. She pulled out a small ornament, a replica of the waving girl statue. He smiled at her as they faced each other at the foot of the staircase. Their gazes met and held for a heartbeat, his eyes intent on her face. They stood close together, all but embracing, her hand still clasped in his. “Figured you might want something to remember Savannah by.”

  “I’ll definitely remember Savannah,” Erin said, her heart pounding out a staccato beat in her chest so hard she became aware of her pulse fluttering in her throat. This close, the flecks of gold in his kaleidoscope eyes became apparent, framed by his thick, lush lashes. Just at the corner of his mouth, he bore a tiny scar. She wondered how he’d gotten it, and how it would taste. She licked her lips, aching for the feel of his mouth against hers, too far gone in wanting him to remember all the reasons she shouldn’t kiss him. “Thank you for the tour, Matthew.”

  He bent his head and brushed his lips over hers, a sweet, gentle kiss. Her eyes fell shut as he kissed her again, claiming her mouth, cupping her cheek as he deepened the kiss, She leaned into him, winding her hand in his dark hair, the soft, silky strands slipping through her fingers. He dropped her hand to pull her flush against him, his hand warm on her back, as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth. He tasted of smoky bourbon and sweet peaches…and far too much temptation.

  She moaned and stepped back, breaking the kiss. Just one taste. She couldn’t allow herself more.

  “I’d better get inside. Get ready for your mother.”

  He looked as dazed as she felt but nodded. “See you later.”

  Erin all but fled up the steps and inside the B&B. She shut the front door behind her and leaned back against it, still fighting to get her breathing under control. She pressed her fingers to her lips, still feeling the press of Matthew’s lips against hers, and couldn’t stop the smile that burst over her face.

  Matthew kissed me.

  “You certainly have an interesting way of distracting my son.”

  Erin jumped at the voice from the living room, slamming her elbow against the doorframe and making her eyes water. Matthew’s mother perched in the wingback chair next to the Christmas tree, dressed in a beige silk sheath topped with a matching cardigan. She idly played with her pearls at her neck as she coolly appraised Erin.

  “Mrs. Rivera. You’re early.” Heat surged to Erin’s face as she realized Matthew’s mama had witnessed their kiss. From her seat by the window, she couldn’t have missed it. Erin swallowed hard and strode into the room, fighting the blush that bloomed over her cheeks. She smoothed her hair and tugged at her jacket. She’d wanted to be dressed in her business suit, in comfortable armor. Instead, Matthew distracted her far too much, leaving her unprepared and still shaky from the intensity of their first kiss.

  Their only kiss.

  “I’ve been visiting with Millie. You certainly are dedicated to your job, aren’t you, Miss Delaney? You’ve been distractin’ my son all morning?”

  “No…I didn’t…we didn’t…I had a pink lady at lunch at…oh that’s worse.” Erin clapped a hand over her mouth as she sank to the sofa opposite the
tree. This woman was her client. It wouldn’t do to make her an enemy.

  “Matthew mentioned you’d met at the airport.”

  “We met at the bar in the Chicago airport. We were snowed in and…we ended up sharing a hotel room.” Erin put her head in her hands, cursing herself. “Not like that, Ms. Rivera.”

  “Do call me Shelby. I think we’ll be good friends,” Shelby laughed. “Now, I reviewed the contract you sent over and it all looks in order. I’ve emailed you a list of the wedding functions. Tonight’s the out-of-towners’ tour…”

  As they went over the details together, Erin surreptitiously glanced at Shelby as often as she dared. The woman looked tired, worn, but no worse than most mothers of the groom. She’d done most of the planning, and quickly, but she looked healthy and well. She thought of Matthew’s devastated face today as he’d confided his mother’s condition to her. Despite her earlier mortification, she truly liked Matthew’s mother.

  “…And you’ll have to pick up your dress today, at the Swan Bridal Boutique, on Barnard Street. Matthew needs to be fitted too. Maybe you all can go together.”

  “We’re not…a couple or anything,” Erin tried to explain. “We’re just friends.”

  “That was quite a kiss for just friends.” Erin flushed harder and Shelby laughed delightedly. “I haven’t seen Matthew smile like that in a long time. Keep on distractin’ him for me, will you, Erin? And maybe take a bit of a nap. Those pink ladies will get ya every time.”

  Chapter Twelve

  After Erin dashed up the steps of the B&B, Matthew headed back over to his mama’s house, hoping he could find his brother. He should have rustled Alex up this morning, instead of spending the morning with Erin. He couldn’t regret it though. He licked his lips, chasing the taste of her. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He didn’t need the complication. But, he found it harder and harder to resist temptation when she was around.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her. He’d wanted to, certainly, since he’d met her—had it only been two days ago they’d played Go Fish in the snowy airport? He’d had a wonderful time with her this morning, almost like a date, if Matthew went on dates, which he didn’t. He definitely didn’t.

  He was old enough to admit he wanted her. Desperately. He wasn’t used to wanting. Since Anna left, he’d focused on hook-ups, quick encounters to satisfy his body. He wasn’t used to this achy yearning. He might not have kissed her. He might have been able to walk away but for the surprised joy on her face when he gave her the little statue. She’d smiled at him and he’d been lost in those blue eyes, wide and endless as the sky.

  But he’d focus on Erin later. Right now, he had to talk some sense into his baby brother.

  He jogged up the steps of his mama’s house, slamming in the front door, the way he’d done a million times as a teenager. He stared at the front hall, now done in welcoming shades of coral and yellow. When had mama redecorated? He wandered back to the kitchen to find Ashley chatting with her sister and Marina, doing some complicated origami thing with—he looked closer—programs, he thought. Alex sat in the corner, struggling to fold the papers properly, looking exceptionally miserable as the women chattered about the wedding plans.

  “Hey, man, let’s go shoot some hoops.” Matthew slapped his brother’s shoulders—much broader now than he remembered—and they went outside to the driveway. After a few free-throw baskets to warm up, they got into a game of horse, blocking each other. Matthew found it difficult to maneuver around his broader, slightly shorter brother. When did that happen?

  “You excited about the wedding?” Matthew finally asked, tossing the ball up. Nothing but net. He still had it.

  Alex stole the ball from him. “Excited for it to be over. It’s mama’s day.”

  “What’s this I hear about you moving to England?”

  “Ash needs to finish her degree. We’ll head there for a year. See what it’s like.”

  “The food is awful and it rains all the time.”

  “I can live with a little rain,” Alex said, shooting a quick three pointer and snatching the ball again.

  “What about a job?”

  “I’ve got a job offer already. In my field and all.”

  Since Alex’s field was some complicated IT thing that Matthew had no hope of comprehending, he let that go. “Where will you live?”

  Alex shrugged and said nothing, sinking another basket. “You sure you want to do this?” Matthew attempted to steal the ball and took a hard elbow to the ribs. Alex slammed the ball through the hoop and knocked Matthew aside when he went for it. His brother still said nothing so Matthew continued, “Marriage is hard work. You haven’t known this girl that long. You don’t want to tie yourself down. You’re awfully young.”

  “People say we’re too young but…” Alex shrugged. Matthew put a hand on his shoulder. Alex finally looked at him, his warm chocolate eyes reminding him of Victor.

  “If you have any doubts, don’t do it.”

  Alex knocked his hand off his shoulder. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

  “I’m your brother,” Alex snorted and dribbled the ball idly, his head down. “I don’t want to see you make a mistake.”

  “Like you did?”

  “Exactly,” Matthew nodded. Maybe he was getting through.

  “Back when you got married, I thought you were making a huge mistake. But did I say anything? No, I didn’t.”

  “I wish you had. You could have saved me a lot of hassle.”

  “Like you’d have listened. No one could tell you anything back then, man.” Alex put up another easy, undefended shot as Matthew scrambled to find some way to get through to Alex. But, it seemed his brother wasn’t quite done. “Back then, I got dressed up in that monkey suit and smiled for the camera. I expect you to do the same.”

  “Alex…I’m your brother. I want what’s best for you.”

  “You’re my brother? That’s rich. I haven’t seen you in years. You call and talk to mama, like my status updates and pics online…No, man, you’re not my brother. You’re a stranger with the same mother.”

  “Please listen to me. You’re making a mistake. Ashley seems like a nice girl. They all do until—”

  “No.” Alex stood, holding the ball under his arm and one finger pointed at him. “You don’t even know her. You don’t get to say anything about her.”

  “You’re too young. You’ll be divorced in a few years and…”

  “Thanks, bro. Thanks for the congrats and the support.” Alex slammed the ball into his chest and got up in his face. “Here’s the deal. You get dressed up in that tux and you keep your mouth shut. Or you can not even come. I don’t want you there anyway.”

  “Alex…”

  “No, man, you hear me out. I asked you to be in the wedding because mama made me. I looked up to you so much when I was a kid. You were my freakin’ hero. And then you married that bitch and never looked back. So, you reap what you sow, brother. And hey, if I do end up divorced in a few years, bitter and alone, I’ll be just like my big brother after all.” Alex slammed into the house, leaving Matthew to gape after him.

  “Mama says you’re supposed to go get fitted for your tux,” Marina said from behind him as Matthew still stood, frozen, the basketball in his hands, watching the back door swing on its hinges after Alex stomped inside. “You okay?”

  “He’s making a mistake. He knows he is and that’s why he’s so mad,” Matthew said, more to himself than to her. Marina sat on the stonewall surrounding the basketball court, tugging on the hem of her T-shirt, and scuffing her feet against the driveway asphalt.

  “Ashley is nice,” Marina volunteered finally.

  Matthew sat next to her. His sister wore a casual T-shirt with a brightly painted parrot on it and bright yellow jeans rolled up at the cuffs, her lovely dark hair in a braid down her back. He remembered playing dolls and having tea with Marina when she was small. After pushing her on the swing and playing in the yard, he’d given her piggyback r
ides to the corner store for ice cream. The last time he’d lived in the same house as her though, he’d been eighteen and she’d been six, full into her princess stage. Somehow, he didn’t think a dress-up tea party and an ice cream cone would entice her now, at just turned seventeen. What had Alex flung at him?

  That he was a stranger with the same mother. Would Marina say the same?

  “Are you excited about being a bridesmaid?” he finally ventured, unsure what to say to this serene, confident young woman in front of him, in place of the princess child he’d known.

  “We had a hard time finding a dress that would fit. Ashley helped me look for ages.” Marina shrugged, still fiddling with her shirt. His sister favored Victor, with a full figure, still running to puppy fat. “But at least she didn’t call me a dumpling like Anna did.”

  “Anna said that?” Matthew shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t marriage to him and all his inadequacies that turned her so hard and bitter. “Maybe it’s too late to say this, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry Anna said that and I’m sorry I’ve been away so much.”

  She smiled at him. “It’s okay, Matthew.”

  “It’s not okay at all. But it will be.” Matthew would figure out how to fix it. “Mama told me how you’d been taking care of her this year.”

  Marina shrugged. “It’s not so bad now. The chemo was the worst of it.”

  “You could have called me, Marina. I’d have come home,” Matthew said, wondering what his mother and sister must have endured.

  Marina shook her head. “She told me not to call you. She didn’t want you or Alex to know or to worry.”

  Matthew watched her, his young sister having to carry a burden far too heavy for her. He didn’t think he could feel worse than when Alex yelled at him but Marina’s quiet strength shamed him. “I guess you’re too old to take a piggyback, but do you want to head down to the store for a quick ice cream cone?”

 

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