Red Flags Go Faster (Alpha 4)

The following story is intended to eventually reach about a full novel-length. I have the entire story planned out already with room to remain spontaneous, so I’m looking forward to exploring these characters slowly over the next few months. The concept behind this story is ‘What if a girl seems too perfect?’ and ‘Is that a red or green flag?’ I’m also trying out a bit more of a stoic main character than I usually write - we’ll see if I can manage it!

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Chapter 6

I wasn’t sure how I felt about Amber’s ability to get herself ready in under five minutes. On the one hand, it was fucking impressive and sort of a reflection of how she seemed to handle everything - at speed, with snap decisions. Efficient and without dragging her feet. On the other hand, what did it say about other women? I’d been kept waiting by a date more than a few times and felt it was a little rude. Once, I’d waited an entire half hour beyond the time I was supposed to pick up one date - sure, she’d eventually come out of her place looking great, but what did it say about her that she couldn’t be ready even vaguely on time?

To be fair, Amber didn’t exactly glam herself up - limited make-up, her hair brushed and pulled back into a cute ponytail, and a spritz of perfume on her neck and a swipe of deodorant under her arms. The amazing thing was more getting to watch her do it all - because she didn’t just hand it fast and efficiently, she did it with that killer cocky smile of hers as she watched me in the mirror from her en suite as I got dressed in the bedroom. She wiggled her ass at me, still naked as she worked on her face. She shimmied her shoulders as she came out, giggling at my appreciative groan as she went to her closet. Back to making sure I was looking at her ass as she put on black lacy bra, which was joined by a matching thong. A cute brown vest covered all the important bits and gave her a country vibe, and she only paused to hold up a pair of navy tights and black jeans and asked if I liked a girl who showed off a bit of jiggle for me when we were out, or preferred to watch her do the ‘pull up the tight pants’ dance.

I was a little shocked at how much I appreciated her asking that - as a man, I definitely didn’t mind seeing a hot woman out and around wearing tights that accented her ass. From a ‘she’s with me’ perspective though… there were thin lines between looking good and looking like advertising.

The ‘Tight Pants Dance’ was also a very fun shimmy and shake that had me groaning and laughing equally as she bounced around a bit, fighting with her perky, jiggly butt to get the tight jeans over it. A belt with a chunky country-style belt buckle, a few rings, necklaces and earrings, and a pair of brown cowboy boots finished the look.

We were out the door in under ten minutes from when I’d last had my lips kissing her.

That brought me to groaning again because, once we were down in her building parking lot, she took my hand and led me to what I could only describe as one beautiful fucking truck.

“First generation,” Amber said, clearly loving my appreciation of her sunny yellow Pickup. “1975. Still has the manual transmission, but I got pretty much everything rebuilt. She can tow my trailer of our real baby, the stock car.”

“Look,” I said. “This-” I held my hand over the polished, smooth yellow hood. “This is a beautiful truck, even if it is a Ford.”

Amber dropped her jaw and slapped her free hand against my chest playfully. “How dare you, Beau!? What, are you a Chevy guy or something?”

“Dodge,” I shrugged with a chuckle.

“Dodge!?” she scoffed, then tutted and shook her head. “I don’t know how I feel about you anymore. Their first-gen model is so much uglier than my sweet girl here.”

“I don’t buy trucks for looks,” I chuckled. “And, to be fair, I’ve only driven two Dodge trucks in a row because I got them for good deals and needed trucks to tow equipment.”

Her eyebrows said, ‘I guess I can forgive you.’

‘Maybe.’

‘But you’re still wrong, and I’ll show you.’

She gave me that killer smile again and dug her keys out of her satchel purse. “All those big machines you work are manual, right? You can drive.” She tossed them to me.

I caught them, a little surprised, and hesitated before hefting them in my hands with a jingle. “You want me to drive?” I asked to confirm.

“I like when a man can drive,” she said. “Be in control.”

Part of me felt like this was a test, but also not the way that I would have thought if I was going out with someone one of my friends was setting me up with. One of their college friends or something. They would want me to say something like, ‘No, it’s OK, I don’t need to drive’ and show I wasn’t a control freak or something. Or ‘toxicly masculine’. Amber, though…

‘Don’t disappoint me, please,’ her eyebrows said as they quirked just a little even though her cocky smirk didn’t falter.

I sighed and closed the distance between us - just a step - and placed the keys back in her hands before reaching down and picking her up by her ass, lifting her up to sit on the hood of her truck. She naturally looped her arms around my neck as I lifted her, and she ended up looking down at me a little with the height change.

“I was hoping to see how a professional does her driving, Darlin’,” I said, resting my hands on the little strip of skin showing on her hips between her pants and the angled sides of her vest top. “I’m happy to drive if that’s what you actually want, but you’ll probably get us to the pharmacy and the hotel faster.”

A slight pressure with two fingers on each hand was all the message needed to draw her to lean down and kiss me, and for a long moment, I felt like I was in the music video for a country love song. When she pulled away she was giving me a considering look. Not conflicted, but clearly trying to decide something.

“You drive,” she decided to hand me the keys again.

“OK,” I agreed, then lifted her back down from the truck to her feet.

She hooked a couple of fingers into the front of my pants and pulled me back to her as I went to take a step back, so I leaned down for another kiss. 

Fuck, I had it bad for this girl. Not just for the physical either. Her attitude and personality just did something to me. And she was interesting. And that felt like I was stripping off a sweaty shirt after work on a hot as hell day in the middle of summer - I would have thought it would be a weight, but it felt… freeing. It felt like I was dropping something I’d been carrying, admitting that to myself.

I wanted more than just a one-night, or a one-night-one-morning stand with Amber. And not in a ‘I’ll be thinking of this girl for a while’ kind of way. I wanted to make something happen here. And it felt good to want that for the first time in a long time.

When we finally broke apart I looked down at her and maybe she felt something change, or maybe something had been running through her mind as well, but her cockiness was gone as she looked up at me with big eyes and licked her lips, showing a bit of nervousness.

“You OK, Darlin’?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” she said, frowning for a moment and then that smile. “I’m great. Let’s get going, Beau.”

I walked her around to the passenger side of the truck and unlocked it for her, helping her in and shutting the door for her before circling around to the driver side. There was a moment of snickering from her as I had to move the seat back to fit in, and then I quickly adjusted the mirrors, shooting her a little smirk because we both knew now she was going to have to adjust everything back to her own liking.

The truck turned over with a powerful, clean thrum and it shifted into gear smoothly.

“OK,” Amber said, letting out a soft breath. “You haven’t been bullshitting.”

That made me laugh, and she let out a relieved laugh as well before giving me directions to the pharmacy that would be on the way to the hotel. And then we just… drove and talked. She asked me about the wedding, and we laughed about my friends and what had been going on the night before and a couple of stories from back in high school. At one point, at a red light, I had my hand resting on the stick shift and she put hers on mine, weaving her fingers with mine a little and tracing their sides with hers. When I glanced over at her she gave me a little smile.

At the pharmacy she tried to be the one to go in to get the condoms, but I insisted - there was no way that I was going to let even the perception of me making her buy condoms for us seem like a thing. My cock, my condoms.

She had fun coming in with me, though, and openly flirting with me at the cash to the point that the poor older woman behind the register was blushing and glaring disapprovingly. It was a Friday morning and here we were cavorting when we should have been at jobs or something.

Amber’s laugh once we got back in the truck was warm and full of energy, and she said that I’d been blushing almost as much as the woman had been, even if I hadn’t balked at flirting back or sliding my hand into the back pocket of Amber’s jeans.

“I like that, by the way,” she told me as we headed for the hotel. “A lot.”

“My hand in your pocket?” I asked.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “On my ass, in my pocket. It’s kind of like…”

“Now you’re blushing,” I chuckled.

“Am not,” she argued and blushed a little harder as she grinned and looked out the window. I let the issue drop and we were pulling into the hotel parking lot a minute later. “Oh, no,” she groaned as I pulled into a spot right next to my truck. “See? Way uglier.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes a little. “It’s a work truck, Darlin’. It’s not for show.”

“Says you,” she countered. “It’s got your business on the side; it’s for show.”

“It’s got my business on the side so people know it’s my truck on work sites,” I said. “I don't think I’ve ever gotten a contract from driving down the highway.”

“Maybe not, but all advertising is advertising,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning to sit with one leg up on her seat so she could face me properly. “You can’t tell me you haven’t gotten a single job from someone grabbing your number off of your truck while you’ve been parked at a job, right?”

“I… guess not,” I said. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Just imagine for a second,” she said. “If your truck and all your equipment was, like, fluorescent green. Anyone driving by a work site of yours would be like, ‘Woah, look at those big, mean, lime green machines!’ And then the next time they need earth moved or something, they’ll think of the first company that stands out - the one with the big green truck and machines.”

I shook my head and sighed. “OK,” I said. “You’re not wrong. I can see how that would work.”

“You’ll learn that I’m right about eighty per cent of the time,” she grinned.

“What happens the other twenty per cent?” I asked with a wry smile.

“I’m missing a key piece of information,” she grinned. “Which isn’t my fault.”

“Great,” I sighed. “Beautiful, cool, and a genius. I’m out of my depth.”

“I dunno,” she said, breaking out that killer smirk again. “I think you’re gonna be at just the right depth. Repeatedly.” She cackled softly as I guffawed at her dirty talk and then reached over and took my hand with both of hers, drawing my attention back to her. “Can I just… say something, Beau?”

“Of course you can, Darlin’,” I said after clearing my throat.

“I- I told you I don’t usually do… this,” she gestured between us and then at the hotel. “Like, ever. And I kind of said that maybe it was just us both needing something like this at the same time or something. But… Rudy, I just want to be kinda blunt because like I said, I don’t want to live life slow - I’m very interested in you. Maybe this is all this is, and that would be OK, but everything about you so far makes me want to know more.”

Where did that lump in my throat come from? Or the beehive in my stomach?

“Well, since we’re being blunt,” I said, tracing one finger around her palms as she clung lightly to my hand. “I’m pretty damn interested in you too, Amber. In every way.”

“OK,” she said, grinning nervously.

“It’s good to know,” I said.

“It is,” she agreed. We just stared at each other for a long moment, and she bounced her knee lightly. “We should probably go in so you can explore my interests more in depth,” she eventually said with a smirk.

That made me laugh and groan. “You already made a ‘depth’ joke,” I said as I unbuckled as well and we started getting out of the truck. “You need to cycle material.”

“Fine,” she said, grinning at me through the truck and the open doors. “We should probably go in so you can fuck my brains out.”

She started laughing as I started coughing.

Chapter 7

I had never really done a ‘walk of shame’ before - I’d certainly heard about them from my friends, and the argument that it was much more of a girl than a guy thing. Walking into the hotel hand in hand with a woman that I’d only met the night before, early enough that it was clear we hadn’t been out and were coming in again, didn’t bother me at all right up until we ran into Bobby-Jo and Brad in the lobby.

That was when I started to understand the ‘walk of shame’ feeling. Especially when they both caught sight of us, clocked our holding hands, looked at each other and started grinning, then looked back at us. All in unison.

“Well, well, well,” Brad said, grinning like an idiot. “Good morning, Sunshine. Have a good night out?”

“Not as good as you, it looks like,” I said as our pairs came together and shifted out of the way of anyone else walking through. “Why do you two look like crap?”

“Because we kept drinking when we got back here,” Bobby-Jo said, rubbing one eye. Then she blinked and broke into another grin, coming forward to wrap Amber up in a hug. “Girl, you are fuckin’ awesome,” she said. “And that outfit is hella cute.”

“Oh, come on,” Amber said. “This is nothing, you girls were all totally smokin’ hot last night.”

Bobby didn’t argue, she just hugged Amber again and then nodded towards the doors into the nice restaurant. “Come on, everyone should be in there.”

My brain stuttered, trying to think of how I could extricate myself from being even more ‘walk of shamed’ by showing up to breakfast in my clothes from the night before - the only saving grace I could think of was that Brad was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, and Bobby-Jo was wearing men’s athletic shorts and a baggy T-shirt which looked an awful lot like her PJs.

“Let’s go say good morning,” Amber said, quick enough on her toes that my hesitation wasn’t noticeable. “Make sure everyone actually remembers me in the light of day. Last night was fun.”

“Sure,” I said, trying not to get annoyed at Brad chuckling under his breath. And ignoring Bobby-Jo trying to catch my eye as we went into the nice restaurant.

We didn’t make it to the two big tables that were reserved for us in the back corner of the place for the weekend, though, because Juliette came scurrying from that direction, spotted us and made a beeline through the moderately busy sitting area.

“Guys,” Jeanine’s younger sister hissed. “Guys!”

Uh-oh, I immediately thought. Juliette was Jeanine’s younger cousin, but for a sixteen-year-old, she had a pretty good head on her shoulders. Considering I was the only one of our friend group who still lived in our home town, I’d been a bit of a pseudo uncle to her when she needed it over the years and had even helped her out with a student co-op job her previous semester - I could get her licensed to Operate a machine or drive truck, but I’d taught her all the back-end admin of the job, like the scheduling and bookkeeping - the entrepreneurial BS that kept the whole thing running. She was a good kid and didn’t panic easily, but she definitely looked flustered now.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Bobby-Jo asked as we stopped and then shifted out of the way of a server.

“Jeanine is freaking out,” she said. “She got a call like fifteen minutes ago and stepped outside to take it, and we could hear her yelling through the windows. She was out there for like ten minutes, then came back in and just sat down and started crying.”

“Where’s Curt?” I asked, my mind instantly going to worst-case scenarios. She was shouting and angry, so no one was dead, but if she was upset and mad it was possible he’d done something really fucking stupid and I hadn’t been there to stop his drunk ass.

“He’s there,” Juliette said, thumbing back towards the table. “I figured I should go find Auntie Bella.”

“Good thinking,” I said and nodded towards the doors. “Go find her. We’ll check on them.”

Juliette nodded and skipped to it, and we all traded looks before heading towards the drama.

Curt and Jeanine weren’t the only people at the two long tables reserved for the wedding party and family, and there were several plates abandoned at the tables as Curt’s father, Ed, Paul, Bill, and Jeanine’s grandma were all trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Jeanine was sitting at one of the tables with her elbows planted firmly on either side of her forgotten plate and her face in her hands as she sobbed softly. Curt was leaning in close, rubbing her back and talking quietly to her - they, at least, looked like they had at least woken up and had a shower before coming down from their room. Ed and Paul not so much, though they were better dressed than Brad and Bobby-Jo.

I blew out a breath, seeing everyone concerned and babying Jeanine as she pretty much ignored them. Amber gave me a quick, questioning look, and I shot her a quick grimace before giving her hand a squeeze and letting it go. Then I moved past my friends to take the seat at the table right across from Jeanine.

“What happened?” I asked Curt.

“She won’t say,” he said, looking over to me in concern and then back to his wife.

“She got in a fight with someone on the phone outside,” Paul started to add, but I waved him off from continuing.

“We got it from Juliette,” I said, then focused on the bride-to-be. “Jeanine.”

I didn’t get anything from her. She just kept quietly sobbing.

“Jeanine,” I said again, more forcefully.

More sobbing.

“She’s too upset,” Curt’s Dad said.

I looked at Paul, who looked at me with a grimace. He was her little brother and had the most experience of all the ways his sister could be upset, but even he was confused.

I wasn’t.

I reached over to the center of the table and grabbed the pitcher of water, flipped over the glass in front of me and filled it with a sigh.

“We tried offering her water, dear,” Jeanine’s Grandma said.

“Not like this,” I grunted. Then I set the water pitcher down and picked up the glass. “The problem isn’t that she’s upset; it’s that she’s still drunk and upset.”

I tossed the entire contents of the glass at Jeanine. Curt saw it coming and backed away in surprise. Everyone else gasped. The ice cold water hit Jeanine from the crown of her head and forehead, down her hands and into her lap.

Everyone was silent for a moment, looking on in shock.

Jeanine lowered her hands, glaring at me. “What the fuck?” she said. Her eyes were rimmed red, and there were tears running down her cheeks, so at least she hadn’t been drunkenly faking it.

“What was the phone call about, Jeannie?” I asked her sternly.

She sniffed hard, and then her lip trembled.

“I’ll dump the rest of the pitcher over your head if you start being a little-”

“Nonono,” she said, shaking her head and sniffing again before wiping at her eyes. Everyone started to relax at that and backed off, lingering to hear what had been the cause of all this.

Curt grabbed a napkin and started drying her off. “Just tell us who called at least, baby,” he said.

“Uuuugh,” Jeanine groaned, shaking her head. “It was the f- It was the lady I booked to do mine and the girls’ make-up and hair tomorrow morning. Apparently, she got double-booked, and the other wedding is huge or something, and her entire team is working it. So she’s refunding the deposit and fucking off and leaving me fucking high and dry. How the hell am I supposed to get someone the day before the wedding!? Everyone good is booked out like half a year in advance.”

Upon hearing the actual cause, I very much noticed that Curt’s Dad, Ed, and Paul all started to back off even more, returning to their seats to get back to their food. This wasn’t a ‘man problem’, I guessed. Bobby-Jo had already been circling around the table and took the seat on the other side of Jeanine, taking her hand. “We’ll figure something out,” she said. “I mean, I’m shit with make-up, but we’ll figure something out.”

“Men like a natural woman anyways, dear,” Jeanine’s Grandma said. “I’m sure Curt wouldn’t mind you looking sweet and simple and innocent.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Curt quickly tried to help. “You know I love you no matter-”

“Oh, shut up, Curt,” Jeanine grunted. “I’m not going fucking naked-face on my fucking wedding day. I’m supposed to look radiant, not simple, Grandma.”

I was pretty sure I heard a “Kids these days,” muttered under Grandma’s breath.

Amber pulled out the seat next to me and sat down. “Um, so- Good morning,” she said.

Jeanine dragged her eyes up from the plate in front of her where she’d been starting to tunnel vision. She looked at Amber in confusion for a moment, her still-drunk mind taking a moment to process, and then her eyebrows raised and she glanced at me, then back at Amber. The corner of her mouth twitched towards a smile. “Hey, A- Amber,” she said, and Amber gave a little smirk of her own and nodded that Jeanine had remembered correctly. “Sorry, I’m not exactly-”

“Oh, stop,” Amber shushed her. “You’re fine. You’re dealing with someone being an asshole. Whoever you booked probably didn’t even double book, they just got a stupid big offer to fuck you over. Look, babe, I know a couple- actually, I know three people who aren’t professionals like who do bookings and stuff, but they are very good at makeup and hair styling. I can make a few calls if you want? See if they’re available?”

“Oh my God, that would be amazing,” Jenaine sighed.

“Whatever it costs,” Curt promised - which probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but it was hard to fault him wanting to make sure Jeannie got what she wanted this close to the wedding.

“Um…” Amber hesitated. “Just to, uh, be clear… are you guys good with Drag Queens? Because one of them is a Drag Queen.”

Jeanine snorted and covered her mouth, and Curt barked a laugh. Jeanine nodded. “We’re fine with Drag Queens,” she chuckled.

“Why do I feel like there’s a story going on that I don’t know about?” I asked.

“Because there is,” Jeanine said. Then she stuck out her tongue at me, and when I rolled my eyes she reached for the water jug, but Curt stopped her.

“Sorry for getting you wet, Jeannie,” I said. “But you needed some sense knocked into you, and there wasn’t a pool to throw you in.” 

Jeanine gave me a very sibling-esque mocking face. “No pool to throw you in,” she mimicked me poorly.

“Oh, Jesus, I should have thought of that,” Curt sighed, finally remembering the time that I had a minute ago.

Amber had stood up, phone already in hand, and she put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a wink as she walked away from the table to make her calls.

“Wait, what time?” Paul asked, clearly interested for purely innocent reasons and not because he wanted the goods on a potentially embarrassing story about his sister.

“No time,” Jeanine said. “There wasn’t a time.”

“Pool party, two weeks before we graduated high school,” Curt offered helpfully. “Jeanie heard she missed out on Valedictorian when we were all pretty drunk and-”

“Oh my God, I forgot about this,” Bobby-Jo started giggling.

“-and she started crying,” Curt said.

“Inconsolable,” I added. “Your sister doesn’t do well when alcohol and sadness get mixed together.”

“Fuck you guys,” Jeanine sighed, but the little smirk on her face said she wasn’t too pissed.

“No one could get her to tell us what was wrong,” Curt continued the story. “And Rudy got fed up, picked her up off the lawn chair she was sitting on and jumped in the pool with her.”

“Ruining my make-up,” Jeanine accused me. “And that skirt I liked.”

“OK, your make-up was ruined from the crying,” I said. “And you ruined the skirt by trying to dry it on high in the clothes dryer for way too long. I had nothing to do with that decision - and the pool worked, just as good as the water now.”

She stuck out her tongue at me, then sniffed hard and wiped her face again. Then she gave me a smirking look as her eyes flicked from me to Amber standing somewhere behind me as she talked on the phone. “So, Rudy,” she said. “You’re still in last night’s clothes and Amber showed up looking hot. Did you have a good night?”

That question had the intended effect as Curt, Paul, Ed, Brad, Bill and Bobby-Jo all turned their attention on me.

“Great night,” I said. “And I’m not even hung over or still tipsy like you guys.”

“He sweat it all out,” Ed said quietly and then giggled like an idiot.

“Did you guys…?” Brad asked, wiggling his eyebrows expectantly.

I rolled my eyes, but all of my friends - and Curt’s older brother - leaned in expectantly for an answer. They almost immediately leaned back away casually, though, as Amber walked back up to the table behind me and slid her hands along the back of my neck to rest on my shoulder. “OK,” she said. “I got a hold of one of the girls and she can come in, and she says she has a friend who can come help too. I’ve got messages to the other two people. Do you have, like, a look-book or photo collage or anything for how you were hoping to look?”

“Oh my God, you’re a lifesaver, Amber,” Jeanine said with heavy relief. “Go grab some food and come sit here with me and Bobby, we’ll go over everything.”

Since Amber and I had already eaten at her place, we each grabbed just a couple of the choicest breakfast items from the buffet - I ended up with a decent looking muffin and a slice of bacon, and she picked out a little cherry danish with her own side of bacon. When she saw our plates she snorted and grinned at me.

“Thanks for offering to help Jeannie,” I said quietly before we headed back to the tables. “You didn’t need to do that.”

“She’s important to you, obviously,” Amber said, then cracked a smirk. “Important enough that you can throw a glass of water on a bride the day before her wedding and she isn’t even really pissed off. Of course I’m going to help if I can.”

God, this woman might be perfect.

I gave her a one-handed hug and kissed the top of her head, and she snaked her free hand around my waist to hug me back before we returned to the tables. Bella, Jeanine’s mom, had arrived and Amber went around the table to join the Ladies as she got the rundown on what they would need, and started feeding that info back to whichever friend of hers would be coming to help out.

It took one look from the guys for me to know that even if I didn’t particularly care about the details of what the ladies were discussing, the only way I was going to get out of answering personal and potentially invasive questions about me and Amber was by sticking close to the women. So that’s what I did, slowly nibbling at my muffin. Bella was eventually joined by her husband, Jeanine and Paul’s step-father, and on the way by me she stopped to murmur some thanks in my ear and give me a kiss on the cheek for getting Jeanine’s head straight. More of the family started to show up as well, and it didn’t take long at all for forty-five minutes to go by as everyone was chatting and talking. The big news, obviously, was the whole make-up artist betrayal fiasco, but I could tell there was an undercurrent of ‘Who is that?’ towards Amber since she was the only person there people didn’t know from back in our hometown. The only other person in the wedding party or either family who hadn’t grown up in our home town was Yvonne, a friend she’d made in college and who lived in the city. She was married and had popped out triplets a year ago so she wasn’t expected to come to anything other than the Bachelorette party, the rehearsal and dinner that night, and the wedding festivities tomorrow.

No one brought Amber up to me, but I could tell the whispering was running in circles as word spread that I’d shown up to the hotel with her. Hopefully the men were remembering to add how she was saving the day for Jeanine and not just talking about how hot she was.

“Alright, men,” Ed finally said, standing up and clinking a spoon against an empty water glass loudly to get everyone’s attention. “Our first tee time is in an hour, so we need to get moving. Especially you bums or old men who need some extra time on the range to get warmed up. Let’s move out!”

Fuck.

I looked over at Amber, but she wasn’t where she’d been sitting a moment before as everyone else started to stand and head out to get ready for the day. Then a hand slid across the back of my neck again, this time up to scratch her fingernails along the back of my scalp, as she sat down in the now-vacated seat next to me.

“Guess our plan went out the window,” Amber said, smirking a little.

“I’m going to tell the boys I’ve got something to do,” I said. “Something important.”

That made her flash me that cocky, killer smile again. “No, you’re not,” she said. “Because you and I both know that you want to be there for Curt.”

“It’s just-” I started to say ‘It’s just golf,’ but trailed off because it wasn’t just golf.

“It’s not,” she shook her head. Then she put her hand on my leg. “Don’t worry, Beau,” she said quietly. “You’ve got a busy day, and I had plans too. Go do your thing, and I’ll do mine, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to help out my friends with the make-up stuff with Jeanine and the bridesmaids tomorrow, and Jeanine is insisting I’m invited to the ceremony and the reception.”

I took a breath and nodded, then let out the breath and shook my head as I put my hand on hers. We were being blunt in the car, and it had felt really fucking good. “I don’t know if I can wait until tomorrow to see that smile again, Darlin’,” I told her.

She grinned and leaned in, whispering, “So take my number, Beau. Text me about your day. Call me. I’ll answer, I promise.”

I believed her.