Getting It Right! (15 page)

“No more playing in the coat closet for you,” he said playfully.

She chuckled, her breasts vibrating against his ever expanding chest. “And no more
whispering
for you.” She arched an imperious brow. “I’ve got a penis voodoo doll and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Y
OU KNOW
, I’
M REALLY
starting to get pissed off,” Frankie said. “
I
get engaged and
you
get married.”

April grinned. “There’s the pastor,” she told her friend, gesturing toward the portly man-of-the-church who’d just married them. “Do something about it.”

Frankie shook her dark head. “Nah, we’re waiting. We’ve still got lots of plans to make.”

“See,” April told her. “That’s where you messed up. You should have never agreed to let him make any plans. Straight men don’t know how to plan a wedding.”

“Well, not everybody can have the fab gay duo in their corner,” Frankie said with a fond smile as she stared across the reception room at April’s dad and Davy.

There was that, April thought. The two of them
had been in cake-and-lace heaven since she and Ben had announced their engagement. They had insisted on planning the wedding. Since that freed her and Ben up to make the most out of Rules One and Three, she didn’t mind.

Just last night
she’d
been the hunter and
he’d
been the prey. Talk about thrilling stuff, April thought, scanning the crowded room for her sexy new husband. She spotted him in the corner talking with Ross and Tate, and from the looks of things they were—vainly—trying to give her new hubby the proper instruction for the care and feeding of a Chick In Charge.

Let’em try, April thought. She and Ben had their own system and she figured as long as neither one of them ever wore underwear, they’d do just fine.

Looking slightly nauseated but beautiful all the same, Zora strolled up. “Please don’t have stargazer lilies at your wedding, Frankie.”

April winced. “Sorry. Are they making you ill?”

“Positively wretched. But not to worry. According to my husband, I should stop being affected by scents within the month.”

Frankie smiled, crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s taking his daddy duties seriously, isn’t he?”

“You know Tate,” Zora said, gazing fondly at her husband. “He doesn’t do anything in half measures.”

Frankie snorted. “It would serve him right if this baby was a girl.”

Zora chuckled. “Believe me, that has been discussed at length.”

Carrie picked through the crowd and gave April a warm hug. “Congratulations, April. I’m so happy for you.” She looked at Zora. “What’s been discussed at length?” she asked, jumping into the conversation.

“The poetic justice of my husband dealing with a daughter.”

Carrie chuckled knowingly. “Oh, yeah. That would be perfect.”

“We’ll see, I guess,” Zora said.

“When’s your ultrasound?” Frankie asked.

“In a couple of months.”

“Are you going to find out the sex of the baby?” April asked.

She knew lots of parents did, but she wasn’t so certain she’d want to when she and Ben started a
family. Which, according to him, would be soon. He’d told her that he was looking forward to inseminating the hell out of her as quickly as possible. The fathers were anxious for grandbabies, and truthfully, she was feeling distinctly envious of Zora at the moment.

Zora shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You’ll change your mind,” Frankie predicted. “You know how you are. You’ll want to decorate the nursery and buy clothes and you’ll
have
to know.”

While that was an accurate assessment of Zora’s Type-A character, marriage had mellowed her some. “We’ll see,” her friend said. She glanced at Carrie. “How are things down at the set?”

“All right, I guess,” Carrie said, somewhat evasively. “The powers that be want to pair me up with Philip Mallory—”

“That insufferable Brit with the nice ass?” Frankie interrupted.

Carrie nodded. “One and the same.”

“For what?” April asked.

“Some sort of special. I don’t have any specifics on it right now.”

“Keep us posted,” Frankie said. She frowned
thoughtfully. “I’ve always had a thing for a British accent. Very sexy.”

Carrie let go a small breath, but didn’t comment, which piqued April’s interest. Hmm, she wondered. Was there some cookin’ going on after the show? Evidently Zora had picked up on Carrie’s odd behavior, as well, and she and April shared a look.

Very interesting, April thought.

A telltale buzz from her cell phone started against her thigh beneath her garter and a shot of excitement bolted through her. She’d been waiting for this message. “Form a circle around me,” she said impatiently. “Hurry. Quick. Move, move, move.”

Bewildered, her friends huddled around her as she fumbled with her dress.

“What the hell are you—” Frankie inhaled sharply. “You’re wearing your cell phone beneath your dress? Have you lost your mind?”

April peered at the display and grinned. Nope. Just her heart.

Coat closet. Now.

She gathered her dress and bolted away from them. “Gotta go,” she called over her shoulder. “My honeymoon awaits.”

“B-but the car is that way,” Carrie told her, looking hopelessly confused.

But her groom was this way, April thought. Waiting for her. With no underwear on.