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Love at Blind Date Complete Series: Books 1-4

Page 19

by Lorelei M. Hart


  Richard’s car was in the shop, which was why I was collecting him, though my cousin had complained saying he could have caught a cab. “You’re the best man, Harry. You have responsibilities.” And thank God they’d be over after the wedding was done and dusted. I’d be happy never to do this again.

  Richard was my date, and I didn’t want him getting to the church on his own. A voice in my head asked if I was worried he might not turn up if I didn’t get him there. I ignored it.

  As I pulled up in front of Richard’s house and beeped the horn, I adjusted the personalized copper cufflinks Darren had gifted the men in his wedding party. My initials were engraved on the front with the date of the wedding on the back. I rarely wore cufflinks, but perhaps these would impress the jurors the next time I was in court.

  I beeped a second time, and Richard appeared. He stumbled along the path as his unbuttoned jacket flapped in the light breeze. Is he drunk? While it was common for guests to get sloshed at the reception, I’d never seen anyone get drunk before the ceremony? Could he be terrified of meeting my family and getting smashed was the only way to get through it? I dismissed that horrifying thought.

  But as he slid into the passenger seat, I took one look at his skin, tinged with gray, his bloodshot eyes, puffy cheeks, and drooping eyelids. “You’re sick!” I leaned away, not wanting to contract anything before Darren said ‘I do’ and I’d fulfilled my duties as best man.

  “Only a little.” His normally gravelly voice was more of a scratchy whisper. “It was something I ate. I’ll be fine and won’t eat anything at the reception, just sip soda water.”

  “You can’t go to a wedding with food poisoning.”

  “It’s a mild case. Must have been the tuna sandwich I ate at work last night.”

  I made a face. “I can’t catch it, can I?” I pictured the entire wedding party in the hospital throwing up into plastic buckets, and my cousin yelling it was all my fault.

  “No.” He swallowed and pressed a hand against his chest.

  That doesn’t instill confidence. “Okay.” It wasn’t, but I could hardly turf a sick guy out of the car, and I had to get back to Darren.

  But as we drove through the backstreets of the quiet neighborhood and headed to the hotel, Richard yelled, “Stop the car!”

  I slammed on the brakes, and my eyes darted to the left and right. Please tell me I didn’t run over someone’s pet.

  My date leaped out, and his stomach heaved its contents over the side of the car. Ewww! Outside, luckily, not over me. Richard staggered to the sidewalk and sat, his head between his legs.

  “I’ll take you home, though you shouldn’t be by yourself. Or should I get you to the clinic?”

  “My stomach’s empty. There’s nothing left.” I offered him water from a bottle I had in the car, and he took a small sip.

  “I’m in the wedding party and can’t look after you if you’re ill.”

  He glanced at me, his stunning greeny-brown eyes glazed and sunken. “And what will your family think if I don’t turn up?”

  I pictured the whispers and the shaking of heads. “Oh, they won’t pay any attention to the ceremony or speeches, and their focus will be on why I made up a fake relationship. And even though my cousin and uncle have met you, it won’t stop the rumors. Darren will never forgive me for ruining his wedding, and Uncle will shake his head at how I undid his matchmaking.” Perhaps I was being a tad overdramatic but only a little.

  “And that’s why I have to go.”

  “No, you don’t,” I insisted. Shit! Honesty is not always the best policy. “You’re sick and I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was selfish. I’ve survived my family until now. Don’t do this for me, please.” I glanced at the phone. “But we have to get moving if I’m to get you to your place.”

  “Nah.” Richard stood up and splashed water on his face. “I can do this.”

  While I wanted him to rest up and get better, if he could make it to the church and everyone caught a glimpse of him, verified he was a real person, I could take him home after the ceremony, though I’d cop an earful from Darren moaning I was a shit best man. As long as Richard didn’t throw up in the punch or upend the floral arrangements, we could get through this.

  Am I being selfish wanting him to show his face? Yes, but I also wanted him at my side, unlikely as that was with me dealing with Darren and his demands. After the speeches, we could leave and head to my hotel room and spend the night in a huge king-size bed with Egyptian cotton sheets and order room service.

  “Okay, fine. Let’s go before Darren calls the police and tells them to arrest a runaway best man.” I helped Richard up, straightened his jacket, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “Got any breath mints.”

  “Ta da!” I pulled a packet from my jacket pocket.

  “Look at you being the bestest best man ever.”

  “You have no clue what I’ve got secreted away under this suit.”

  He raised a brow. “I have a fair idea, and I’d love some right now.” He lunged at my crotch, but I jumped out of reach.

  “You are feeling better.”

  “Come on. We’ve got a wedding to attend.” He fiddled with my corsage before sliding into the passenger seat.

  51

  Richard

  When Harry let me use his hotel room to clean up and get rid of my puke breath, I had to admit, for a half a minute I stared at the bed, wondering if anyone would notice if I took a short nap. Food poisoning sucked like that. You felt like someone was destroying your insides, then your insides end up on the outside, and you’re left with your body completely wrung out.

  At least this one ended as soon as my stomach was void of all things. The only thing that remained was the exhaustion. Which I could push through. Gods knew I had a ton of experience with that during my residency.

  A small knock at the door told me my time was up. No bed for me.

  Darren, as happy-go-lucky as he came across at the airport, was anything but when it came to his wedding. Sure, I’d heard Harry’s tales of woe, but witnessing it firsthand was another thing. He had legit freaked out at my being disheveled and five minutes late, which was an hour early to anyone else.

  I was not sad to see it wasn’t Darren at the door, although I had to admit I was a little bit disappointed it was Enrique. “Harry sent me for you. You will be shocked by this but Darren refused to let him leave his sight.”

  “Oh, I believe you.” I took his arm, and we walked out of the room, closing it tightly behind me. “You look dashing this evening. I’m surprised Tony let you get away.”

  “Sweet talk will get you absolutely everywhere with me, young man.” He pressed the elevator button, and it immediately opened. “Must be our lucky day.” We stepped inside and waited as the door closed.

  We walked to the church, the fresh air doing me a lot of good. As we arrived, Tony took me from his husband, leading me down the aisle to my seat, the one where he assured me I would have the best view, and as the music started his words were proved accurate, Harry taking his place directly in front of me.

  I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, not as the groom walked down the aisle to meet his future husband, not as the pastor gave the sweet vows to them, not as the two men kissed for the very first time.

  We all rose and clapped as the couple exited the church, and I waited for Harry to come get me, unsure what the picture-taking part of the evening would entail for him. As it turned out, it was an hour of a photographer posing people in specific combinations, first at the altar and then at the front of the church and finally at a little gazebo in the hotel courtyard. Harry brought me to all three, and more than once I almost dozed off. Stupid tuna.

  “Ready to party?” Harry helped me up from my seat. “I hear there’s dancing.”

  “That is something I can get behind.” I leaned in kissing him on the cheek. “Sorry about earlier. I really am okay now. Promise.” I kissed him again because fuck it—I could.
>
  “I’m just glad you are feeling better. I hope I wasn’t an ass. I let Darren’s marital freak-out affect my actions and for that I am sorry.”

  “You were forgiven long before now,” I reassured. “Weddings are stressful. Why do you think there are so many reality shows revolving around them? Drama. They make good drama.

  “Agreed. Now let me show you off on the dance floor.” We followed the sound of the music and walked in as the DJ turned on a slow song and called for the first dance as Husband and Husband.

  “No dancing for a bit. I bet they have the parent dance next.”

  “No doubt. Shall we find our table?” he asked.

  “You mean the big long one up front?” Wasn’t that the traditional spot for the groomsmen? Which was all kinds of weird if you asked me. Who eats looking out at people like that? No one. That’s who.

  “I told him I needed a second spot so we could be together since you aren’t in the wedding party,” he explained. “I’ll be with you, as well as Enrique and Tony and I didn't even look who else. I’ll be at the head table for the speeches. That’s it.”

  “You did that for me?”

  “Of course I did. If I wasn’t sitting with my sexy date, someone would swoop in and try to steal him.”

  “I’m unstealable.” The song ended and instead of the parent dance the DJ put on the chicken dance. There had to be a story in there somewhere, and I planned to find it out later, but the first rule of chicken dance is that everyone dances. Fine, it's not a rule. It should be, though.

  “Come on,” I dragged him on the dance floor and started to flap my wings and shake my tail feathers, laughing the entire time, and when the dance was over, I swirled my arm in the air chanting again and soon everyone, including Darren, was doing the same, and we got to dance the entire thing over again.

  By the time we finished round two, my stomach was once again hurting, this time from all the laughter.

  “I told you I could dance.” I bowed in reverence of my performance.

  “That you did, omega. That you did.”

  52

  Harry

  My family was fawning over Richard. I sat by myself at the now deserted head table and downed a glass of champagne. I was acting like a sulking toddler. I’d been tending to Darren and his ever-more-outrageous demands and racing back to our table making sure Richard was okay.

  But after my cousin and his partner’s first dance, Richard had hauled me into the center of the dance floor. Everyone was gazing at us but luckily, Darren and Brad, his husband, were lost in each other's eyes and weren’t paying attention.

  And later, Richard had dragged me to the photo booth where we took multiple pics of us kissing.

  But after I’d helped Darren change out of his formal suit into more casual clothes, I’d returned to the ballroom to discover my relatives crowded around my date, tittering at his jokes and pestering him with questions.

  He complimented, teased, and flirted with them until they fell under the Richard spell just as I had. Damn, why can’t I do that? I should be pleased. Instead of bugging me, they were wide-eyed and listening intently as he entertained them with crazy stories about his life.

  Their gaze flitted to me every so often. Probably wondering why an amazing omega is with a boring alpha like me. I’d never had the ability to connect with people in that way, and while I could persuade a jury my client was innocent, that confidence didn’t continue outside the courtroom.

  If I didn’t get over there soon, my family would convince Richard to dump my crotchety ass and match him up with one of the sassy groomsmen. I got up and grabbed the back of the chair. Too much champagne. Who cares? It’s a wedding.

  Taking a deep breath, I strutted across the dance floor, avoiding Darren and his new husband who were attempting, and failing, to perform a tango.

  “And there’s the best best man!” Richard took my hand, and I collapsed into the chair beside him.

  My aunt Flora who was on Richard’s other side had been listing her medical symptoms and asking for a diagnosis, but abruptly changed the subject and asked, “Harry, where did you find Richard?”

  Oh, God. It sounds as though I discovered him in a rummage sale. “Technically, I didn’t, Aunt Flora. Uncle Enrique did.” Was I such a loser that I needed my family’s help finding a date?

  “Hold onto this one, dear,” she advised.

  “Mmmm,” I mumbled as I undid my tie and flung it on the table.

  “So,” my aunt nudged my date, “when’s the big day?”

  Richard extended his hand toward the dance floor, “Isn’t this it?”

  “No, silly.” She giggled and patted his arm and then jerked her head toward me.

  “Huh?” Richard’s head swiveled to me and back to my aunt. “Harry’s job is done this evening. And now he’s all mine.” He nuzzled my jaw.

  I slung an arm around his shoulder and kissed the top of his head.

  “Oh, you two. That’s what I’m talking about. When are you getting married?”

  Jesus freaking Christ, way to ruin the evening, Auntie. Richard’s demeanor changed. Seconds earlier, he’d been playful with one foot resting on an empty chair, listening intently to my aunt.

  But as those words spilled from her lips, he tensed. His fingers clawed the fancy tablecloth as it draped over his lap. He sat up straight and shrugged off my arm.

  Aunt Flora reared away as tension sizzled from his every pore, and his jaw clenched.

  What was it about weddings that made everyone try to arrange the next one? Champagne, it had to be. No other explanation. “Auntie, you’re getting ahead of yourself, we’ve…” My voice trailed off as I caught the expression on Richard’s face. Shit, he thinks I’m trying to trap him or something.

  He got up and kissed my aunt’s hand. “It was lovely meeting you.”

  “But I…” Her words were drowned out by the MC barking instructions into the microphone. Richard stormed away from the table toward the exit, and I staggered after him.

  “Richard, come back.” Having not drunk anything other than soda water and soft drink, my date was stone-cold sober. He had me at a disadvantage. “Please, my aunt is from a generation that thinks everyone not married at twenty-five is destined for a life alone.”

  He turned on his heel. “I get that, but when I heard those words, it was as though the room was closing in on me. I couldn’t breathe and had to leave.”

  “I thought we were enjoying ourselves.”

  “We were. The photos, the dancing, the feeling one another up on the dance floor when the lights dimmed, the welcome I received from your family, it was all good fun.” He paused and gulped in mouthfuls of air. I glanced around for a paper bag, thinking he was hyperventilating.

  “But?” There was always a but. So many buts.

  “The wedding talk freaked me out.” Sweat dotted his upper lip and brow.

  “Ignore her. She wants me to be happy.”

  “I understand.

  “Maybe this was a mistake.” I was referring to the wedding. Not us in general. Bringing Richard to an intimate family occasion was not the smartest idea so early in our relationship. But perhaps I was—talking about us. All relationships were complicated but we’d made whatever we had much more so. Was it worth it?

  “Seriously? Isn’t that an overreaction?”

  “How can you say that when you just had a meltdown and I had to chase after you.” My voice attracted the attention of young alphas sipping beers and admiring single omegas mingling in a corner of the ballroom.

  “It was a minor thing, Harry. You know how I am.” He grabbed my shoulders.

  “You’re right. I do. That’s the problem.”

  “Hey, I never made any promises.”

  While my irritation at Darren had increased as the wedding day approached, he had been right about one thing. I had to take care of myself, of my heart. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this, Richard.”

  He narrowed his eyes and his nostril
s flared. “Was this the plan all along? Bring me here, pretend we’re in a loving relationship to impress your family, and then dump my ass after I’ve been paraded around?”

  “Can you hear yourself? This isn’t a conspiracy.” I brushed hair out of my eyes. “I fell for you the moment we met. You pushed me away. Fair enough. We met again. My feelings were unchanged. But you didn’t want to be tied down. Okay. Uncle set us up, and we proceeded slowly until we ended up here, being affectionate and having a great time. But one comment from my elderly aunt and your world is upturned.”

  I was in courtroom mode, but I’d bottled my feelings for too long. “If you’re so fragile that you can’t ignore an innocent comment from my nosy, yet loving and relatively harmless relative, we have to step back.”

  Richard straightened his spine, and his steely voice sent goosebumps prickling over my skin. “If that’s what you want.”

  “It’s for the best.” I wasn’t sure it was, but I couldn’t stop. My head was aching from the champagne, and I wished someone else was in my place, making the hard decision.

  He pointed into the ballroom. “I’m sure you can find someone more suitable there. If you’re quick, you can be engaged by midnight.” Ouch! And he left.

  53

  Richard

  Breaking up sucked. Breaking up at a wedding double sucked.

  The thing was, he was right to do it. If I couldn’t handle a little old lady making marriage comments, how was I ever going to handle the big things? And much as it sucked to admit that to myself, there it was.

  “Looks like a slow night.” Enrique had his jacket in his hand. “The entire day was slow.”

  “It makes up for the insanity that was the past couple weeks,” I reminded him.

  The two weeks of whatever stomach bug had been going around was what saved me from wallowing in pity all of the time. Don’t get me wrong. I wallowed away at home. But at work I tried to keep the happy face going. From what I could tell, Harry never told his uncle what had happened, and I wasn’t going to be the one to do that.

 

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