by Cara McKenna
It was just past three on a Sunday afternoon, two hours into the party. Laurel’s party, thrown by Heather to celebrate her new job. She’d been touched at the offer, remembering how she’d envied Kim this attention only a few weeks earlier.
The family had gone all-out in the barbecue department, and when Flynns were told to BYOB, it seems they all arrived with a case, so the beer and wine were flowing like the Charles. The venue was some cousin or other’s place in a humble but quiet corner of Southie, strands of Christmas lights and paper lanterns cascading from the second-floor fire escape down to the fence. Folding tables were set up along the perimeter, overflowing with every side dish imaginable. Laurel couldn’t help but think this wouldn’t make a bad wedding reception.
She and Flynn were seated at the head of a picnic table. He stood, stole Laurel’s wine glass and clanked it with a fork to call for silence. “Everybody got a drink handy…? Good.”
Laurel took her glass back, feeling her cheeks flush pink, knowing what was coming. They’d kept the engagement a secret these past couple weeks. She found her purse at her feet and hauled it into her lap, rummaging through the inner pocket.
“Toast!” Heather bellowed from the grill.
“Fuckin’ right.” He held his ginger ale aloft. “A toast to Laurel—officially an engineer, with insurance and business cards and all that awesome grown-up shit.”
A collage of clapping and glass-clinking and whoops answered him, and Laurel raised her wine in bashful appreciation, her other hand balled in her lap.
Flynn cast her a meaningful glance and she nodded.
“And a toast to me,” he went on, “because despite her brains, I somehow convinced her fool-ass to marry me.”
A second’s pause, one filled with raised eyebrows and curious murmurs, chased immediately by Heather’s, “You what?”
He looked down at Laurel and she stood, passing him the ring. He made a little show of flashing it around at the crowd, then took her hand and slid it onto her finger.
A flurry of surprised exclamations clashed with more clapping, the odd swear from the Flynn camp and incoherent squealing from Anne. Laurel had managed to keep the news a secret from her roommate, much as she’d hated taking the ring off.
“You set a date?” Heather demanded.
They exchanged a look. “Maybe next fall, or the following spring?” Laurel ventured. “I’m not in a rush.”
“Little Miss Cautious wants us to live together for a while first,” Flynn said.
“Don’t put off planning,” Heather warned. “If you wanna have it at Holy Cross you—”
“For fuck’s sake, come ooh and ahh at the ring. Let’s save the church-wedding-versus-hell-bound-heathens fight for Thanksgiving, okay?”
“I’m just sayin’, you gotta book this shit in advance.”
“And I’m just reminding you, I’m an atheist and so’s Laurel, so don’t hold your breath. All right, now everybody get trashed and manhandle my gainfully employed fiancée’s sparkly hand, please.”
Heather was first in line. “Jesus. Nice work, Mike.” As she made her inspection, she asked Laurel, “You gonna be a Flynn?”
“I thought maybe I’d combine them, and be Laurel White Flynn, but your brother said a whiteflynn sounds like some kind of fish, so now I’m leaning toward just taking yours.” It wasn’t as though Laurel was especially attached to her name, or close with anyone who shared it. In fact, she felt far more endeared to this salty crew than she ever had to her own parents.
“You’d be welcome to it,” Heather said. “Class this family up.”
Laurel settled in for a good hour’s interrogation about all things bridal, disappointing everyone by having zero clue what she wanted her wedding to look like. Flynn excused himself to help man the grill. He reappeared just as Laurel was getting a bit of a break, refilling her glass at the cluttered beverage table.
He wandered over, popping the tab on another ginger ale. “You survived the frenzy.”
“I did. Do you think this gets us out of having to endure an engagement party?”
“I’m afraid that may be up to my sister. And she likes occasions.”
“The natives were thoroughly perplexed that I didn’t have any ideas about dresses or venues or color themes, but they let me live, in the end. I smell brats.”
“That you do. Everything’s done but the steak.” He tapped his can to her glass. “Thanks for making a decent man of me.”
“Oh yeah, I’m sure the second I get you down that aisle you’ll quit swearing and fighting and find yourself a desk job and a briefcase, Michael Flynn.”
He smirked. “Wouldn’t hold your breath.”
Laurel lowered her voice. “And I would be very, very disappointed to discover that wedded bliss somehow cured you of your depravity.”
“Can’t be a cure unless there’s a disease, and I’d like to think my tastes are part of my appeal.”
She tapped his can again. “Hear, hear.”
“Only difference’ll be that now when you fight back, you can scratch me with your ring.”
Something growled low and hot in her belly, and it had nothing to do with hunger. “Is it weird that I just got a little turned on?”
“Nope. Only makes me more certain I found the right woman.”
She could feel her cheeks burning but welcomed that heat, letting it wash over her and imagining summer breezes yet to come, the sizzle of champagne on her tongue as they toasted something else in a couple years’ time. She didn’t care much about dresses or registries, or whether they were married in a church or a park or in the boxing ring in that stinky bar basement, frankly. She only cared who was waiting for her as she crossed the floor. It could only be this man. It could only be those strong hands and those blue eyes, those lips on hers, that body against her own in their bed when the time came to tell their guests goodnight.
“We’ve got a lot to learn about each other, once that U-Haul’s been returned,” she said.
He eyed her. “I’m not scared. Are you?”
“No. I don’t think I am.” They’d been through a hell of a ride together these past two months and held hands through every dip and buck of the rollercoaster. In many ways she’d still felt like a girl for nearly all the time she’d been with him, trapped in a post-college purgatory. She was proud she’d be moving in with him feeling like a woman, at last.
“Lemme see it,” Flynn said, nodding down at her hand.
She tilted the ring this way and that, enjoying the slow, smarmy smile that spread across his lips.
“That’s a nice fuckin’ rock.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“You realize it’ll only make me ten times more possessive than I already am.”
“That a promise?”
He snaked his arm around her, fisting her belt at her waist. “The worst kind.”
“If this wasn’t my party I’d say let’s pound these drinks and get the heck out of here.”
He let her go, shaking his head. “You waited too long and worked too hard for this.”
“I suppose I did.”
He flicked his finger between the two of them. “This’ll keep for a few more hours. Go find yourself a sausage and another drink. Soak up the love.”
She looked around, floored all over again to think these dozens of people were here for her. “That sounds like a very good idea.”
“I’ll still be here, ready to escort your giggly ass home.”
“I’ll look forward to that.” She pulled him down by the collar for a kiss, smelling ginger, feeling the familiar heat of his skin. A humble and happy awe settled over her as he straightened once more, to know this man loved her the way she loved him, and to trust that she deserved it.
With a final stroke of his jaw, she said, “See you in a bit.”
“That you will. Go have the fuckin’ time of your life, kiddo.”
About the Author
Since she began writing in 2008, Cara McK
enna has published nearly forty romances and erotic novels with a variety of publishers, sometimes under the pen names Meg Maguire and C.M. McKenna. Her stories have been acclaimed for their smart, modern voice and defiance of convention. She was a 2015 RITA Award finalist, a 2014 RT Reviewers’ Choice Award winner, a 2012 and 2011 RT Reviewers’ Choice Award nominee, and a 2010 Golden Heart Award finalist. She lives with her husband and son in the Pacific Northwest, though she’ll always be a Boston girl at heart.
Cara loves hearing from readers!
@caramckenna
authorcaramckenna
www.caramckenna.com
[email protected]
Also by Cara McKenna
After Hours
Curio and the Curio Vignettes
Hard Time
Her Best Laid Plans
Shivaree: The Complete Series
Skin Game
Strange Love: Remastered Tales
Unbound
* * *
The Flynn and Laurel series
Willing Victim
Brutal Game
* * *
The Sins in the City series
Crosstown Crush
Downtown Devil
* * *
The Desert Dogs series
Lay It Down
Give It All
Drive It Deep
Burn It Up
* * *
As C.M. McKenna
Badger
* * *
As Meg Maguire
Caught on Camera
Headstrong
The Reluctant Nude
Thank You for Riding
Trespass
The Wedding Fling
Wild Holiday Nights
* * *
The Wilinski’s series
All or Nothing
Going the Distance
Takedown