Good Morning Heartache
Read Good Morning Heartache Online
Authors: Audrey Dacey
This is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as
real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons,
living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Text © 2012 Audrey
Dacey
All Rights Reserved
www.audreydacey.com
Cover design and images
© 2012 Clayton Smith
MOTSO Ever After
An imprint of MOTSO
Books
This book
is dedicated to all my family and friends who have supported me in my endeavors.
I will never be able to truly express my gratitude
“I will love you and honor
you all the days of my life.”
Alexis Conner gripped a ring
box in one hand and a small bouquet of pink roses in the other, her knuckles
red from fear of dropping one. She heard her best friend’s words swirl around
her as her heart hammered against her chest with an intensity she was unaware
was possible while standing still.
Caitlyn Murphy and Michael
Fitzgerald publicly and willingly declared their love for one another,
surrounded by friends, family, God, stained-glass windows, a harpist, a
vocalist, and Alexis. She heard the words, but she wasn’t paying attention. It
was too…too…dammit she couldn’t even think straight. She could barely think at
all.
“Ahem.” The eyes of the
elderly Irish priest and about a hundred others were all on Alexis.
“Yes, your… your honor,” she
said, pretty sure she got it wrong.
“The ring, my dear.” He
waved his hand to beckon her forward as she heard a few chuckles from the pews.
Alexis smiled as big as she
could as she looked out over the faceless crowd. Then she turned, set her
flowers on the seat behind her, and carefully walked across the marble floor in
the too-tall stilettos she had insisted on. Holding the ring box above her
head, she said, “Right here. I got it.”
When she reached Caitlyn,
she opened the box and pulled the ring out of its cozy slot. “Here you go.”
The priest smiled, but his
eyes were narrowed at her. It didn’t matter to Alexis. She couldn’t be any more
uncomfortable in this place than she already was.
Alexis looked up and around,
surveying the chapel, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut and the
tightness in her throat. For the first time since she was twenty-one, she
thought she might want the protection of a constant companion to share her
life. It scared the crap out of her. If there was one thing she knew she
couldn't count on finding, it was a man who was constant.
Alexis hadn't had a
committed relationship in seven years, but she had sex at least four times a
week. She thought sex was a gift given to humankind, and she was a compulsive
re-gifter. Her method of getting what she required and getting out before any
one got too attached was solid and had worked for years. It was exactly what
she wanted, until this special, awkward day she was forced to be a part of.
This ceremony, this wedding,
went against everything she believed in. It wasn’t that she was against this
particular marriage. If Caitlyn thought she could make it work with this guy,
that was her business. Alexis just didn’t think a person could actually promise
his or her forever to somebody else.
As the priest made the sign
of the cross over the couple and the congregation spoke a singular “Amen,”
Alexis almost couldn’t contain her laughter. At least she thought it was
laughter, but as it rose in her it made her whole head ache and her eyes burn.
Caitlyn and Michael sealed
the final blessing with a gentle kiss. When they stepped away from one another,
they both had huge, goofy smiles on their faces. Alexis had never seen Caitlyn
as happy as she was that day, in that moment.
Caitlyn skipped down the
aisle, her left arm laced through Michael's right, and Alexis got a sick
feeling in her stomach. A feeling she had successfully avoided for all those
years. The need to be loved. For a moment she envied what Caitlyn had—Amens and
everything. Nothing she had done with her life had warranted that feeling, and
she was pretty sure she didn't deserve to be loved by anyone.
As she followed the couple
past the rows of people, her chest became tense in her chocolate chiffon
strapless dress, and she felt a dire need for fresh air. Despite the vaulted
ceilings and openness of the chapel, Alexis thought she might suffocate. She
could see the exit ahead but couldn't push past the newlyweds without
attracting more attention than she deserved or desired. So, she let the feeling
sit under her collarbone. She even bore it as it rose to her throat. She just
had to get out of the church, and she would be fine.
Alexis, concentrating more
on her quickening breath and the beads of sweat forming along her hairline,
didn't realize she had quickened her pace, practically dragging the nerdy best
man, Tom something-or-other, down the aisle, and closing the gap between them
and the bride and groom. Before she could correct herself, the toe of her
shiny, gold heel held down the lacey bottom edge of Caitlyn’s floor-length
veil.
Caitlyn noticed too late. As
her body continued forward, her head tipped back toward the altar, arching her
back. The comb pulled free from the waterfall of curls, and Caitlyn righted
herself, avoiding a fall.
Caitlyn turned to look back
at Alexis, who blurted out an “Oh, shit!” that echoed in the rafters and above
the gasps and whispers.
All the heads in the church
snapped to look at the blasphemer. Though she wasn't easily embarrassed, Alexis
felt the heat of chagrin rising to her cheeks and the weight that had settled
on her chest growing.
Before the tension became
unbearable and suffocated Alexis, Caitlyn began laughing, and soon the walls
rang with the sound of the congregation’s laughter. Alexis let out a few
nervous chuckles as she looked around at the crowd, who could turn on her again
at any moment.
She noticed only one person
who was not entertained by her blunder. His glacier-blue eyes bore into her,
and there was no amusement in his dark features. She felt a hot humiliation
wash over her.
Alexis slipped out of the
church, thinking the fresh air would get rid of the shame. But when she stepped
out onto the stone blocks of the courtyard floor she found that the feeling had
only dissipated, not disappeared. The heavy humidity of the late-May New
England air did not bring much relief.
Alexis smoothed her lips
into a kind smile as the crowd of people pushed their way through the heavy
wooden doors. She was good at faking the proper emotion, whatever the occasion.
She didn't like to put on a façade and she didn’t do it often anymore, but in
cases such as these, it was imperative. Just because she didn't believe in love
or marriage and they made her clumsy and physically ill, didn't mean she had
the right to ruin her friend's day.
There had been moments in
the whirlwind romance of Caitlyn and Michael when Alexis wanted to tie up her
friend until she detoxified her from the inebriating ways of Mr. Fitzgerald,
but she couldn't do it, not completely. Soon, all she could do was stand idly
by—as much as she was able— and let Caitlyn get love drunk.
Alexis stared at the elderly
priest, who smiled broadly as he watched the joy radiating from the crowd, and
she wondered if he knew Caitlyn was knocked up. She wasn't that far along, only
thirteen weeks, and while most people, when they found out, would think this
was a shotgun wedding, Alexis knew it wasn’t. Michael had been planning to
propose to Caitlyn already when she told him she was pregnant. But in a dark
part of Alexis, it was satisfying to know they weren't the perfect couple they
appeared to be this evening. Life was messy, and their lives were no exception.
A breeze swept through the
corridor, and the skirt of Alexis's knee-length dress whipped around her legs.
The feeling brought her back into the moment, and she realized Caitlyn's mother
had wheeled up beside her and was bad mouthing the people surrounding the bride
and groom.
“I can't believe they’re
just standing there. Don't they know dinner is in forty-five minutes? We still
have to take pictures.” Cat Murphy wore a grimace on her face. At the age of
sixty she looked more like seventy-five, and the wheelchair she sported didn’t
help. Cat was not good at filtering her true thoughts. She didn't see a reason
to bother, and Alexis liked her for that. Most of the time, anyway. It bugged
the crap out of Caitlyn, but Alexis couldn't help but indulge Mrs. Murphy now
and laugh at her later.
“The nerve.” Alexis had to
chew on her bottom lip to keep from laughing. It was the first time since they
arrived that morning that Alexis actually felt like herself instead of
someone’s doll who was only allowed three programmed sentences. It had been six
years since she’d been in a church of any kind, and she hoped this would be the
last time she’d ever have to set foot on consecrated ground.
Mrs. Murphy glared at
Alexis, “Well, I'm not going to let it go on any longer.” And before Alexis
could do or say anything, Cat rolled toward the crowd of people, stopped to
clap her hands to get their attention, and announced they should make their way
to their cars and on to the Viscount Suites.
Alexis turned to look at
Caitlyn, whose face dropped into an expression of embarrassed horror. Their
eyes met, and Alexis just shook her head to remind Caitlyn to let it go. There
was no controlling her mother, so there was no point in trying.
Caitlyn put on a smile,
ignoring her mother’s demands, and continued to thank her friends and family
for their congratulations.
Alexis scanned the crowd
with a practiced eye. She knew exactly who she was looking for, but she didn’t
know what he looked like yet. It didn’t require that she mingle, so she found
an unoccupied piece of wall from which to begin the hunt.
At this point, Alexis was
sure of only one thing—she needed to get laid tonight. She needed mind-blowing
sex to get her out of the day's mind-numbing funk. She hoped she could convince
some sucker to forgo thoughts of love, marriage, and babies for one night. She
didn't get laid the night before, and the nights before that were lackluster.
No wonder this wedding was getting to her. She needed a fantastic orgasm, a
wild ride, an untamed beast to remind her of the benefits of lust.
Alexis loved men—she was
certain any man she had been with would attest to that—and she was an equal
opportunity lover. A man of any race, color, creed, or national origin was
welcome in her bed. Hell—if a man was questioning his sexuality, she'd help him
sort it out. Alexis loved the way men smelled. She loved to run her fingers
through the coarse hair on a man's chest or across his smooth skin. She loved
bald men, especially the ones who wore it with pride, and men with hair longer
than hers. Her favorite part of a man was his arms. Even if a guy never worked
out and had the beginnings of a beer belly, his arms always seemed to stay
strong and defined.
One of her favorite feelings
in the world was the weight of a naked man against her bare skin. The look of
desire in a man's eyes drove her mad, even if he wasn't looking at her.
She wasn't a slut; she knew
sluts. Alexis had a discerning taste. Even if he liked it rough, he had to be
sweet. He had to be clean—everywhere. He had to have some self-respect. She
didn't just sleep with any guy because she wanted to get laid. She had to like
him first. Sometimes a couple minutes acquaintance was enough. Sometimes a
couple of years. Some guys just didn't make the grade no matter what they did.
In this crowd, a guy had yet to make the first cut, and Alexis was probably going
to have to be less discerning than usual, which wouldn’t satisfy her the way
she needed to be satisfied.
After a few minutes, most of
the guests headed to their cars and were off to the reception. A short man with
a goatee and a camera with a long lens touched Alexis on the shoulder, startling
her from her thoughts.
“Picture time,” he said with
a smile, waving the camera at her face.
Alexis returned his fake
smile, pushed off the cool wall, and moved in the direction he was shuffling
her. She turned to look at him as they were walking toward the bride and groom.
He wasn't bad looking. He kind of looked like a leprechaun, and she wondered
what prize was waiting at the end of his rainbow.
The thin band of gold
encircling his left ring finger stopped her thoughts. No married men. That was
one of her rules. Guess he wasn't that lucky after all.
Alexis took her place in
line next to Caitlyn and shook her head to try and get her curled hair back
into place. “I’m sorry,” she said through a smile.
Caitlyn remained looking
forward at the camera, her smile, which was one of the few real ones Alexis had
seen all day, did not falter. “Whether I like it or not, it’s who you are. So,
who were you checking out?”
“What?”
Snap.
Alexis hoped the leprechaun
didn’t catch her surprise in that frame.
“When you weren’t paying
attention to my wedding, who were you checking out?”
Caitlyn thought Alexis had
started hunting in the chapel. She wished she had thought of it; it might have
taken her mind off of—her stomach began fluttering with the sick feeling again.
Alexis shivered and forced the smile back on her face. “No one,” she said. “I
was just out of it. I wasn’t feeling very well.”
“Okay,” said the leprechaun.
“Just the bride, groom, best man, and maid of honor.”
Three people from both sides
of the couple stepped behind the camera, and Caitlyn turned and looked at
Alexis. “Are you okay?”
Alexis nodded and Caitlyn
turned back. “Withdrawal, I guess. Any suggestions?”
Caitlyn laughed and turned
to the lens. “You have a one track mind.”
Alexis smiled. Snap. “I just
know what I want.”
The leprechaun lowered his
camera. “Okay, how about a silly one?”
“Seriously?” Alexis said
under her breath and put her hands on her hips. “Caitlyn,” she whispered, “this
guy is going to ruin your pictures.”
“Just do it.”
Alexis let her tongue fall
out of her mouth and shook her head in more disapproval than silliness.
Caitlyn smiled. “What about
one of the groomsmen? Tom’s a real nice guy.”
