Bad Boy's Bridesmaid (7 page)

“Yes, you are,
Daddy!” Lindsey kicked. The iPad flew from Bryce’s lap. He dove to catch it,
nearly crashing head first into the television. “You didn’t like any of the vases
I picked out!”

“They were
crystal
.”

The music
blared. “
Our God…is an awesome God, he reigns…
”

“You hated the
flowers!” Lindsey yelled.

Conrad tried to
calm her down. “They weren’t in season.”

“And you hated
the whole arrangement!”

Mandy tried her hardest
to mute the television. Instead she replayed the last show. “…
And on
this
episode of Wedding Hunters, we sent Brett and Donna to a tropical paradise,
but when the groom catches malaria, Donna might have to cancel her pre-wedding
manicure—
”

“Those centerpieces
were five hundred dollars a pop!” Conrad waved at his ex-wife. “Sandra, we
agreed on twenty tables of eight. That’d be ten grand
alone
on
centerpieces.”

Lindsey bolted
upright. Bryce avoided her swinging arm, but he howled as her three inch heel
cracked down against his toe.

“
Twenty
tables?” She pitched the frozen peas into the wall. The bag exploded.

The song
continued. “—
With wisdom and love…”

Lindsey growled.
“Are you kidding me?
Mom
!”

“Conrad, I told
you.” Sandra took her daughter’s hand. “It’s thirty tables of eight.”

“
Thirty
?”

“Yes.”

The TV crackled.
“
But when Brett refuses to get married in the ICU, Donna realizes she won’t
compromise on love and finds a new groom for her tropical honeymoon—”

“That’s
eighty
more people!” Conrad shouted.

Lindsey and
Sandra looked at Mandy. She froze, clutching the tea in trembling hands.

“You didn’t tell
him?” Lindsey said.

“Tell me what?”
He grunted. “That this wedding is out of control?”

“—
He reigns
from Heaven above—”
The song crescendoed.

Mandy bit her
lip. “I didn’t know I was supposed to tell him the guest list shifted. I redid
it and gave it to Mom.”

“
You
are
the liaison here,” Sandra snapped. “I expected that you would inform your
father of all the changes to the bridal party and our plans.”

“But Lindsey
said—”

“Don’t make
excuses. Your sister is upset enough.” Sandra pointed a finger at Conrad. “It’s
thirty tables of eight. And you
will
give your daughter the centerpieces
she wants.”

Conrad laughed.
“I am not spending five hundred dollars for a centerpiece.”

“
—But Brett
isn’t willing to give up on his bride-to-be. Even with a one hundred and four
degree fever and hallucinations, he crawls to the altar—”

“Oh, you
certainly will,” Sandra said.

“They’re
flowers. Put something in a jar and drop a couple candles.”

Lindsey
shrieked. “Mom, do you hear him? My wedding will smell like
Citronella
!”

“Like the devil
it will!”

“—
Our God is
an awesome God—
”

Jesus. I turned
off the television. The gospel music synced from someone’s phone, and I was
pretty sure the song stayed on repeat. Mandy didn’t notice, and her bottom lip
started to quiver.

My dad stepped
forward, tapping a hand against his bible. “Let’s sit and discuss this. Flowers
and decorations are special to the bride, but do you know what’s more special?”
He smiled. “A loving family, working hard to make her day as joyous as the joy
she brought to their lives.”

I didn’t have to
laugh. Mandy scoffed first.

Then the
fireworks started.

“Hear that,
Conrad? You
do
want your little girl to feel
joyous
, don’t you?”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t you dare
take the Lord’s name in vain!” Sandra scolded him. “We have a man of God in the
house!”

“Good. Maybe
he’ll turn some water into wine so we can save money on this ridiculous
wedding!”

Bryce’s mom
raised a hand. “Actually…the wine is paid for by the groom’s family…”

Sandra grunted
at her husband. “Oh, this is
so
like you, Conrad.”

“—With wisdom,
power, and love—”

Was the song
getting louder, or was the house starting to implode? And why the hell didn’t
anyone pop some popcorn for this shit show?

Mandy bit her
lip. “Dad, don’t. Drop it.”

“I’m like
what
?”
Conrad extended his arms. “I’m the only one in this family who ever cared about
money.”

“Don’t argue
money in front of the guests,” Sandra scolded.

Mandy covered
her face. “Mom, please.”

“Did you plan to
spring all these extra costs onto my side of the bill now, so I couldn’t argue
them with
guests
in the house?”

“Why are you
even arguing?” She pointed at a sobbing, particularly snotty Lindsey. “This is the
most precious day of your
daughter’s
life. Why would you deny her
happiness?”

“Because the
seven thousand dollar wedding gown should
still
be making her pretty damn
happy.”

Mandy covered
her face. “Nine grand.”

“
Nine?
”

Lindsey bared
her teeth and launched from the couch. Bryce caught her before she lunged for
Mandy’s hair. “You little traitor—”

Mandy threw the
remote and bolted away.

“
Another
two thousand dollars?” Conrad grunted. “We can’t afford all this. It’s only a
party.”

Lindsey, Sandra,
and my mother all gasped. Conrad apologized immediately, but the damage was
done.

Marcus chuckled,
despite Bryce’s shushing. “Nice knowing ya, Conrad.”

Sandra’s voice
rumbled low. “I should have prepared for your selfishness. Everything is money
money money to you. Payday was more exciting than our honeymoon!”

Mandy stood,
forcing a smile as my parents slurped their scalding coffee. Second degree
esophageal burns were preferable to the awkwardness of excusing themselves from
the room.

Conrad blew his
fuse, and probably an artery in his neck. His eyes bulged, and he pointed a
thick finger at Sandra. “Of course I looked forward to pay day. About as much
as you’ll look forward to your alimony check!”

“Don’t you throw
that in my face,” she said.

“Get a job!”

“Support your
family!”

“Stop bleeding
it dry and maybe we’ll have a chance to save some money!”

“Stop denying
your child the wedding she deserves so you can pinch more pennies. For God’s
sake, Conrad, it’s not like
Mandy’s
going to find a man.”

Mandy threw the
tray against the wall. The room silenced.

“Stop it!” Tears
rolled over her cheeks. “Can’t we talk like normal people for
once
? You
used to love each other! Just be civil for
one
hour!”

Sandra huffed,
her mouth falling open. “Mandy, don’t make a scene. You’re embarrassing yourself!”

Silence.

Almost. Bryce
tried to play it cool and turned on the TV.

“
Next week on
Wedding Hunters, Denny wants to propose, but he can’t afford a ring! It’s off
to the plasma bank for a donation in the name of love—”

Mandy stormed
out of the living room. I followed. I didn’t have to hurry. She trembled in
rage and couldn’t unlock the back door. I helped her, but she didn’t speak,
just rushed outside.

It tore me apart
to see her that upset. Mandy’s smile was too pretty to lose to tears,
especially when it was bullshit family drama sapping her energy and…

Getting her sick
in the bushes outside?

Damn. She took
her family
seriously
. There was her first problem.

“You okay?” I
asked.

Mandy flinched.
She froze, staring at me.

“I’m sorry. I’m…worked
up.”

“It’s okay.”

She heaved a
breath. “I can’t go back in there.”

“Come on.” I
guided her away from the bushes. “I’ll take you out. Get you something to eat.”

“I’d rather crawl
under a rock.”

“How about under
the sheets?”

I regretted it
as soon as I said it, but she actually giggled.

“You know…”
Mandy bit her lip. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

It was the first
time a beautiful woman’s proposition ever took me by surprise.

And it was the
first time I ever considered refusing one.

If she was this
hot and cold when she wasn’t dealing with the DMZ imploding in her living room,
Mandy wasn’t ready to get fucked. She needed someone to talk to.

For whatever
reason, I liked that I was the man who’d listen.

“Good families
do
exist, right?” I posed the question to the universe. The universe didn’t
answer, but it did make me nauseous. Maybe it was a sign.

“I’m sure they
do,” Nate said. “Somewhere.”

“It’s just not
fair. I barely survived my mother’s endless judgment during my childhood. Now I
have to be
voluntarily
humiliated as an adult?”

“Can’t pick your
family.” Nate leaned over his bar and passed me a basket of French fries fresh
from the fryer. “But you can run far, far away from them.”

“If only.”

“Lindsey can’t
chase you wearing heels.”

I snorted.
“Yeah, except I’m the one breaking them in for her.”

“Tell me you
aren’t serious.”

“I’ll show you
the blisters.”

I dipped my
French fry in the ranch dressing. Nate passed me a beer. I wished. I asked for
water instead. He poured it into a frosted glass, and I dove into my fries.

Nate had a bad
reputation. He was a womanizer, a commitment-phobic, a man who’d chase me to
the ends of the earth just to steal my panties—but he whipped up the best ranch
dressing I’d ever tasted.

I didn’t know
how he did it, but my stomach soothed around him. I’d blame the pregnancy
hormones. Just sitting with the father of my secret baby was relaxing enough
that I could eat more than a single saltine and half a tangerine.

But the one
person who made me feel halfway normal was the one person I
couldn’t
have feelings for.

Except Nate had
whisked me away from home, delivered me to his bar, and served me a plate of salty
and crispy French fries the instant I sat down.

For someone who
claimed to screw ‘em and leave ‘em, Nate knew how to please a lady—besides the
obvious oral sex, passionate fucking, and complete fulfillment of their
physical needs.

I bit my lip.
Not the thought I should have had in a crowded bar.

Arrogance
attracted a lot
of people. Nate knew half of the patrons by name, and the rest were casuals or
newcomers who seemed to enjoy his brews and the classy atmosphere. Three men
greeted him with handshakes and grins.

A couple of blondes
tried to swoop in.

Nate stared only
at me and stole a fry. I shouldn’t have smiled.

He sipped his drink
and gestured to the multitude of beers on tap. “Sure I can’t get you anything? You
need something stronger.”

I deflected like
a pro. “I just had to get out of the house. The wedding turned into a zoo
overnight, and I’m not allowed to tranq the bride.”

“Would make for
a more entertaining reception.”

“More
entertaining than what? The choreographed dancing? The ten ton cake? The
musicians I’m supposed to
audition
next week?”

“Maybe?”

“We have a DJ
and a string quartet, a five course dinner and dancing, two hundred and fifty people
in attendance.” I nibbled my fry. “And let’s not forget the best part. Sandra
and Conrad Prescott entertaining the guests by performing their latest hit act—
Marital
Grievances of the Past Thirty Years
.”

Nate laughed.
The deep rumble warmed me despite my best efforts to wallow in misery.

“I hate being
caught in the middle,” I said. “The bull’s eye on my forehead won’t match my
bridesmaid’s dress.”

“So shrug it
off.”

“I can’t. This
is too important. My family is falling apart. I’m trying to do anything I can
to stop it.”

He frowned.
“Sometimes there’s nothing you can do.”

“Don’t say that.
I don’t want to give up.”

“But it isn’t
your responsibility to mediate. That’s a horrible position to be in.”

My eyes prickled
with tears. I’d much rather lose my lunch than my cool.

Crying wouldn’t
solve anything, but the damn hormones made me seem even crazier than I was
before. Nothing I did or said would ease the fear creeping around my heart.

“My parents were
married for thirty years,” I said. “
Thirty
. They lived together. They
raised a family. Mom stood by Dad while he built his advertising business. And
now look at them.”

Nate nodded. “They
are pretty damn explosive.”

“Today was just
a firing range. You missed the nuke last week.”

“What happened
then?”

“Dad stopped by
to give Lindsey a check for her bouquet. He asked for a drink. I got him some
water, and the glass’s condensation dripped on the table.”

Nate shrugged. I
sighed. Maybe the trickle of water on my great-grandma’s antique end table
meant more to Mom than normal people.

My family’s
fights lacked foxholes, but that didn’t mean we weren’t digging shrapnel out of
our butts every time Dad napalmed what good memories we had left with a
careless water ring.

“I’ve never
heard them fight like that before. I was in the room for the bombshell about
every sexual incompatibility they ever had.” I pushed the fries away. Not even
they could help block out that particular memory. “I know every repressed
fantasy, Dad’s treatment for low testosterone, and one very bad experience with
some sort of warming lubricant that, frankly, might turn me celibate.”

Nate smirked. “Don’t
say that.”

“The PTSD is
real.”

“Well, we
absolutely can’t let celibacy happen. Tell you what…I’ll help you out. We’ll
experiment with all the warming lube you want, baby. We’ll get through this
together
.”

“My hero.”

“Gotta help a
damsel in distress. Closing those legs? That’ll be the biggest mistake of your
life.”

I was pretty
sure opening them was the biggest mistake I’d made to date.

I don’t know what
was worse—getting pregnant…or staring into the beautiful green eyes of the
father-to-be that had no idea how much his life was going to change.

I never expected
Nate Kensington to actually give a damn about anyone but himself, but he served
me food and listened while I blabbered about how I was feeling. I always felt
confident and sexy after flirting with him. Suddenly, I was…comforted after
just
talking
with him.

His smile made
me feel like the most beautiful woman in his bar. And when he touched me? It
was like no one in the world could tear us apart.

But it wasn’t
enough, not now that I had the baby to protect.

“It sounds like
an afternoon made-for-TV movie, but…” He leaned closer, brushing my hand as he
stole another French fry. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

“I wish it was.”

“Why?”

“Then it would
make
sense
.”

I pushed the basket
towards him. Grease didn’t sit well with uncertainty.

“How does a
couple give each other
thirty years
of their life…and then walk away
from it all?” I asked. “How do they burn everything good that came from their
marriage and expect the rest of us to accept that it’s over?”

Nate raised his
eyebrows. “Takes courage.”

“
Courage
?”

“Your parents
were unhappy together. They split, even after thirty years of stability. They
gave up their home and security to find something or someone who would make
them happy.” He shook his head. “Christ, I
wish
my mom would do that.”

“But your
parents are great,” I said. “They seem perfect together.”

His voice
darkened. “Yeah. And my dad will do anything to keep it that way. Believe me.
It’s not healthy to stay in a toxic relationship for
any
reason.”

I leaned against
the bar. It might have been better to hide under it. At least it’d protect me
if the world kept tumbling down.

“God, it’s so
bleak,” I said. “How can any love actually last? Marriages get broken, people
drift apart, and even the most stable and loving of relationships can just—
poof
!
Be over. There’s nothing keeping people together.”

Nothing.

Not vows. Not
love.

Not even
children.

The fairy tales got
it wrong. Snow White probably left the prince for someone less Grumpy and
Sleepy. I bet Ariel discovered an entirely different sexual orientation when
she looked closer at those new legs in a mirror. And Cinderella? When her
kingdom didn’t implement labor laws for minimum wage workers, I doubted she
just walked away in those glass slippers. Her happily-ever-after included a social
and industrial revolution. Then she probably died surrounded by rats as a
princeless oligarchy descended into anarchy
.

It wasn’t a
story I’d read to my baby.

What hope did
anyone have if the stories only showed the puppy-dog eyes and first kisses? No
one talked about mortgages and sickness and jobs and…accidental babies.

“Are you going
to tell me what’s wrong?” Nate sipped his beer. “Or am I supposed to guess?”

“Please don’t
try to guess.”

“Then tell me.”

“You wouldn’t
understand.”
I
didn’t understand. “I
want
that romance. I’ve
always imagined passion and excitement and sharing the world with someone. I
wanted commitment and love.”

“So find it.”

“With who?”

I didn’t mean to
say that. I averted my eyes before humiliating myself any more than a single,
unwed mother with a crush on her baby-daddy could.

“Is there even
such a thing as love?” I asked.

“Christ. Come
with me.”

Nate grabbed my
arm. I stumbled as he led me to his office. The door slammed behind him, and he
pointed to his desk. “Sit down. Stop being so fucking crazy.”

That did not
help the hormones. Rage-sniffles were neither endearing nor intimidating.

“That’s what
you’re going to say to me?” I crossed my arms. “Stop acting
crazy
?”

“I’m not Rick.
You want to discuss the depth of human emotions, talk with the man who has
dissected the most hearts.”

“He’s a
cardiologist
,
not a—”

“You want my
honest opinion? You know what you really need?”

This would be
good. “What?”

“To get fucked.”

Exactly what I
expected.

“Is that your
solution to
everything
?” I slapped his hand away. “If I sprain an ankle,
are you going to rub your dick on it?”

“If it helped!”

“Getting
fucked
isn’t going to help me.”

His eyes
hardened, completely serious, completely invasive. He saw through my freak-out
and hit the core of everything that frightened me.

“Stop worrying
about other people. Stop judging their happiness based on what you think is a perfect
world. It doesn’t exist.”

“How do you
know?”

“Because I
lived
through it. My parents put appearances before reality every damn time. My mom never
spoke out of turn to my father. And when I was a kid, neither did I. My dad was
a very
spare the rod
kinda guy, if you get me.” Nate frowned. “I
couldn’t play football with Bryce or Rick because we had practices when I was
supposed to be at youth group. Mom wasn’t allowed to work because a woman’s
role was in the household. Dad insisted we looked
Christian
, said the
right things, acted the correct way, and never, ever disobeyed him.”

“I didn’t know.”

“No one does.
They see
perfection.
But you know what that life is?” He bumped my chin
up to meet his stare. “
Boring
. Filled with unhappiness. Lacking the only
thing that matters in life.”

“Family?”

“Pleasure.”

“We are so wrong
for each other.”

Oh sweet baby
Jesus, I said that out loud.

I covered my
face. This was mortifying. That comment stripped away the remnants of my
dignity, the remaining bits not bookmarked between the pages of
What To
Expect When You’re Expecting
.

My voice
weakened. “I didn’t mean…I’m not saying we’re…we have different
philosophies
.”

Nate smirked.
“We have one thing in common.”

“What’s that?”

“We both want
you to be happy.”

I stilled as his
words melted like chocolate. The warmth pulsed over me, coating me in a sticky,
sweet, and scary moment of surrender.

“So let me make
you happy now,” he whispered. “Let me take some of the stress away.”

“It won’t solve
everything.”

“It won’t solve
anything
.
It’s not selfish to want a little pleasure, baby.”