“Casey!”
“What?” I growl, tasting her neck. Lavender. “I could have given you a massage.”
“Oh yeah? How relaxing would that have been?”
“Who said anything about relaxing?”
I roll her to her back and push on top of her. She giggles and threads her hands in my hair to pull my head down. My body hardens and strains into the deep kiss. An intoxicating moan leaks from her as her legs wrap around me to draw me in. My eyes clench shut at the pressure of her hips, and—
“Sweetie, who’s Marty Heilman?”
I freeze. Pull back. Watch hooded eyes clear and search mine.
“Oh, hell no.”
“What’s wrong?”
I push off her and rush to the door. Pull it open. And stand knee-deep in the English Tea Garden from hell.
“That’s a lot of flowers,” Callie says, tucking her arms around me. She kisses my shoulder and rests her head on my arm. So many flowers. Purple, blue, pink, yellow—an entire herd of unicorns vomited around the fourth-floor corridor.
“I told them I didn’t want them in our room,” I hiss.
Callie scans the mess of petals. “Well… They’re not.”
“Un-fucking-believable,” I mutter, smacking my hand through the closest flower-vomit.
“Language.” Callie rescues the arrangement from my angry fist and gently carries it inside. “It’s pretty,” she says, placing it on the desk. I watch her tend to the damaged buds and can’t help but think what a great mother she’ll make one day. Thanks, Marty Heilman.
“I’m really worried about Holland,” she says, turning back to me. “She got sick and left our spa treatment halfway through. I hope she doesn’t have a stomach bug.” Her eyes widen. “What if we all get it?”
“Kind of fitting, don’t you think?”
“Stop it.”
“Hey, maybe we could have the wedding in a hospital.”
She snaps a glare my way. “Not funny.”
“A little?” There’s that smile. I pull her into my arms. “Tell you what, you stay here and decide what you want to do with Marty’s bounty while I go check on everyone and see what’s up. Sound good?”
She bites her lip, glancing between me and the sad-looking flowers. How much of her brain is figuring out how to save those things from my wrath?
“Okay. Thank you. You sure?”
I nod. “Absolutely. You stay and relax.”
“Casey?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
And there’s my own smile. “Love you too, babe. We got this.”
If only I believed it.
9: THURSDAY 4:02PM, 2 DAYS
I’ve just reached the lobby when I stop cold.
“Oh my goodness, Casey!” A woman shrieks and rushes toward me. Arms flailing and luggage falling around her, my mother is the picture of a war widow who just learned her beloved has returned after all.
“Ma! What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until Friday.”
She throws her arms around me, squeezing any remaining protest from my lungs. “I came as soon I heard! I’m so sorry, honey. We’ll get through this. I really liked her too.”
“Who?”
“Callie.”
I force her back to safer territory. “Yeah, I do too.” Her expression is a little dramatic for a woman who just learned her son’s wedding venue is a no-go. “Ma, what exactly did you hear?”
She swats a hand laden with costume jewelry across her eyes. Tears too? Damn. She’s all in.
“I just never thought this would happen to one of my babies. Especially you.”
I quirk a brow. “I mean, it sucks, but it’s not the end of the world.”
“Of course not! Oh sweetie, sugar, my dear baby boy.”
I get dragged in for another rib-crusher. Yep, getting weirder.
I duck away again, gently holding her at arm’s length. “We’ll figure it out. Our wedding coordinator is working on it.”
Her face shifts from devastation to disgust. “Don’t you think that’s a bit inappropriate?”
“No?” I ask, unsure since I’ve been confused by this entire process since the beginning. “That’s what we pay her for.”
“Counseling?”
Huh? “No,” I draw out. “Wedding coordinating.”
She freezes, eyes narrowing with vicious heat at a specter behind me.
“You have a lot of nerve, young lady,” she rasps out.
I turn and capture the confused look of my bride.
“Hey, babe. Thought you were resting,” I say, drawing her against me. Callie settles into my embrace and loops her arm around my waist.
“Yeah, I need a snack.”
“You could’ve ordered room service.”
She shrugs. “I wanted to try that café by the pool. I could use a cappuccino. Want to join me?”
My mom’s jaw is on the floor when I turn back.
“You okay?” I ask the woman who’s scrutinizing Callie like a bounty hunter. Callie returns a wary look.
“All right, what the hell, Mom? Why are you acting so weird? It’s just a glitch. I told you, we’ll figure it out.”
“Just a glitch? Being stood up at the altar?” she cries, arms flailing again.
Callie and I both drop our hold at the same time.
“Wait, what?” I say.
“Norma told me everything! The wedding is off!”
I can’t decide if the sudden rush through my blood is humor or anger. “Aunt Norma told you that?”
She nods.
“Ah fuck,” I mutter, swiping my hand over my face.
“Why would she say that?” Callie asks, voice trembling.
“Because my aunt is a rumor whore and probably heard about the fire somehow which then morphed into heaven knows what.” I glare back at my mother. “And you believed her? Come on, Ma.”
“How many other people has she told?” Callie asks.
My glare transforms into a challenge. “Mom?”
Her chest blooms with color that flares into her cheeks. “So you’re not breaking up?”
“Hell no,” I say. “There was a fire at the venue so we have to find a new location. That’s all.” And yep, now I’m just annoyed. “Do me a favor and tell your sister to keep her damn mouth shut about shit she knows nothing about.”
“Casey! Watch your tongue,” Mom says.
I roll my eyes and sling my arm around Callie again. “We’re going to grab some food. You hungry?”
I can’t tell if she’s relieved or disappointed at the lack of drama. That suitcase of jewelry was donned for a reason. My mother, ladies and gentlemen.
“I should probably find Norma to set the record straight,” she says.
“That’d be great.”
We watch her sulk toward the elevators, dragging her rolling bags behind her.
“Wait, is she upset we’re still together?” Callie asks. “I thought she liked me.”
“She does. But she likes making town headlines more.” I leave it at that because I still want this girl to marry me. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll have plenty more to get excited about before this weekend is over.”
10: THURSDAY 4:28PM, 2 DAYS
Some foamy caffeinated contraption for Callie and a large black coffee for me. This is the life: my girl and I at a table, staring through a giant glass wall at palm trees and a sparkling pool. We’re taking a freaking three-week honeymoon when the tour is over. Non-negotiable.
My phone buzzes, and I ignore it. Again. Ignore it. Again.
“You can check it, hun,” Callie says, dipping into her parfait.
“No. I just want to enjoy watching you eat that yogurt.”
She snorts a laugh. “You’re so weird.”
“Not my fault everything you do is so sexy. Ooh, can you eat the strawberry next?”
She grins and makes a grand display of sucking it clean before nibbling the end. Shit. I make a mental
note to add strawberries to our next room service order.
Another buzz. Two more. Three.
“What the hell?” I mutter, finally looking at the phone. I just about choke on my coffee.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Crap.” I shake my head. “One sec, babe.” I return one of the many messages, and our manager answers on the first ring.
“Hey, Casey. I just heard. You okay?”
“Hey, TJ. No, actually I’m not.”
“I can imagine. Listen, I’ll start making calls to see if we can push the tour back and give you some time to recover, okay?”
“Don’t. You can spend the time telling everyone to mind their own damn business and for the tenth time, Callie and I are not breaking up.”
“Wait, what?”
“We’re not breaking up!”
“But… damn. It’s all over the place. Hell, you already have fan groups devoted to being your rebound girl.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not, man.”
“Shit.” I scrub my forehead. Callie’s lost interest in her snack, and I reach for her hand. “Okay, well, the wedding is still on. So you can start spreading that rumor.”
“Wait, which rumor?”
“That I’m getting married.”
“To Callie?”
“Of course to Callie. Who else?”
“Hey, no need to get pissy. I’m on your side, remember?”
I pull in a calming breath. “Okay, well, I’d appreciate it if you could set the record straight.”
“Will do. The Label and promoters will be relieved.”
“Shit, they’re in on this too?”
“They’re concerned.”
“Fuck.”
“Well, look. I’m sure you’ve got your hands full so give me a ring if you need anything.”
He hangs up, and I’m about to fill Callie in when shouts draw our attention to the café counter.
“No way in hell I’m buying you more fruit!”
“I’m a grown woman, Nestor Barrett. You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot eat!”
“You’re just going to throw it at me!”
Callie bites her lip when she sees my face. Nice of her to try not to laugh while I’m ready to pound my fist through a wall.
“That’s it.” I throw my napkin down and jump from the chair. She grabs my arm and squeezes.
“Babe, remember. They’re guests. And family. Want me to talk to them?”
I sigh and shake my head. “I won’t murder them. Promise.”
The shrieking comes to an abrupt stop when they see me.
“Casey, good to see you again,” Ms. Hawthorne says.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
“No problem,” Nestor mutters.
“Good, because if you two don’t work this out in the next five minutes, you’ll be working it out back home in your own house.”
With a glare, Nestor finishes placing his order that now includes a fruit cup. Ms. Hawthorne crosses her arms in a triumphant huff. I return to Callie and drop to the chair.
“My hero,” she teases.
I grunt and rake a hand through my hair. “I’m going to end up with a rap sheet if we don’t find a solution to manage them. Guess I’ll be spending the entire week babysitting two seventy-year-olds.”
Her perfect lips rest on the edge of her mug as her mind works on something. Uh-oh. I don’t know if I should be scared or relieved at her sudden smile.
“I have an idea,” she says. “Can you give me Derrick’s number?”
∞∞∞
My girl is brilliant. Derrick is thrilled at his important job of hanging out with Uncle Nestor for the rest of the week. So important that Callie said he didn’t mention his duties as Guest Book Bitch once during their call. I love how she mouths bitch in barely a whisper. How did this saint end up with a heathen like me?
“Here he comes,” she says when we spot him approaching the café.
I flag him down and accept a fist bump back slap.
“Where’s the old dude?” he asks, scanning the tables.
“Call them Mr. Barrett and Ms. Hawthorne, okay?”
“No prob.”
I have zero confidence that will happen as we make our way to their table. Ms. Hawthorne munches on her fruit cup with a look of ecstasy, while Nestor looks on with suspicion.
“Now what? We weren’t fighting,” he grumbles.
I force my irritation away. “I know. I just wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. This is Derrick Rivers. He’s here alone, and I was wondering if you two wouldn’t mind keeping him company this week.”
Derrick shoots me a not-so-subtle wink, and I return a tight smile.
“Oh, honey, of course you can pal around with us,” Ms. Hawthorne says. She grabs his hand and yanks him to the seat next to her.
“Dude, I love your bowtie,” he says to Nestor. Also, he means it. Wait, is that a smile on Uncle N’s lips as he tugs at the yellow-striped flower explosion around his neck?
“Thank you, son. Mabel made it.”
Ms. Hawthorne beams. “I did. I can make one for you too if you’d like.”
Derrick’s eyes nearly pop from his head. “No way! Are you serious?”
She squeals—squeals!—and grabs his hands. “I’d be honored. Let’s go see if we can find material to work with in the gift shop. I brought my sewing kit. Oh, Nestor, do you mind?”
“Naw. I need more of my beefy snacks anyway.”
I bite my lip, retreating slowly to remove myself from the weirdest exchange this hotel has ever seen. But hey, sometimes crazy plus crazy equals sane. Points for Callie for doing that math.
“They look like they’re getting along,” she says when I return to our table.
“They’re perfect for each other. You’re a genius. I love you.”
She leans in for a kiss. “Say it again,” she whispers.
“I love you.”
I feel her smile against my lips. “No, the other part.”
I chuckle, but my response catches in my throat. “No way,” I hiss, looking past her. She turns to follow my gaze.
“Is that Molly and Eli?”
They’re seated on a bench sharing a cup of ice cream. Two spoons. One bowl. Plenty of flirty glances and smiles.
“Are they dating?” Callie asks, surprised. At least she sounds more critical than pleased about that prospect.
“Not if I can help it. I’ll be right back.”
“Casey…” She grips my hand to stop me.
“Come on. Molly and Eli? Really?”
She looks from me, to the ice cream couple, back to me. “Yeah, you’re right.” She lets go of my arm, and I smirk.
“Be right back.”
Molly’s spoon stalls halfway to her mouth when I approach. Eli still hasn’t grasped the precarious nature of messing with my sister.
“Hey, man,” he says, swallowing a glob of chocolate.
“What’s up?” I ask. Molly looks guilty. Eli shrugs.
“Eating ice cream,” he says, through another mouthful. He cringes and presses his palms to his temples. “Brain freeze,” he gasps out. After a moment, he shakes his head and releases a sigh. “Whew. That was rough. Want some?” He holds up the cup and his spoon.
“I’m good.” This should be easier than I thought.
“We’re just having a snack,” Molly says.
“Right,” I say, calm.
Eli shrugs and shovels another mound of chocolate into his mouth. I watch, wait, because… yep.
He hisses in a breath, presses his palms to his temples. “Brain freeze,” he wheezes out again.
I nod, then glance at Molly who won’t look at me. Apparently, she doesn’t want to see my Really? This guy? expression.
“Well you kids have fun,” I say, feeling like I’ve won this round.
Eli lifts a hand in salute through clear agony.
Molly still won’t look at me.
∞∞∞
“What’s wrong with Eli?” Callie asks when I return to our table. “He looks like he’s in pain.”
I cast a look back in time to see him trying to converse with Molly while he’s doubled over. “Yeah. He doesn’t know how to eat cold foods.”
She makes a face, her attention moving to Molly. “She knows she can do way better, right?”
“She knows.”
“So…?”
Molly’s eyes have definitely narrowed into a glare at her date. Yep, that didn’t take long.
I enjoy a sip of my now-cold coffee. “You need a refill?”
∞∞∞
I squeeze Callie’s hand to the rhythm in my head as we walk. The air is warm, the sun bright and filtered by trees shading the nature trail running behind the resort. After the ambushes in the lobby and café, we decided to escape the chaos for some alone-time. Our phones are off, and ten minutes into our walk we haven’t seen a single person we know. This is paradise.
“What song is that?” Callie asks.
“Which song?”
“The one in your head.”
She holds up our linked hands as proof, and I grin. “It’s the one I’ve been working on for the last couple of weeks.”
“’While You Wait’?”
“No, a different one.”
“It must be fast based on the pace of your squeezes.” She lifts our hands again.
I smile and shake my head. “Actually, it’s not. It’s just in six-eight time.”
“What’s that?”
“Um… well, you know how songs have a certain number of beats per measure?”
“No.”
“Well, they do. A lot of ours tend to be four-four, which is four beats per measure where a quarter note gets a beat. You know, one-two-three-four?”
“Like, the click thing with the ticking in your ear?”
I love that she tries so hard. “Well… no. And yes. Um, more like—”
“Did you hear that?” She jumps away, yanking her hand from mine. I turn as well, but don’t see anything.
Hyperaware, her gaze darts from tree to tree.
“Spider?” I whisper. Not sure why I whisper, except it feels right. Man, I hope she doesn’t make me find it and relocate it to another ecosystem.
An NSB Wedding Page 5