Piper Lawrence has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. She’s been the one constant in my life, my strongest ally and my biggest supporter. I’ve never doubted our bond and the depths she’d go for me, and vice versa. Of course, there was that time she was dating my brother behind my back, though. I mean, that shit didn’t go over well with me—at all.
Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t because I don’t want them together. If ever there were two people destined for each other, it’s those two. It’s borderline revolting how cute they are. When I found out, my behavior was less than desirable. Fine, it was childish and selfish. But in my defense, I was in a room with a group of people who knew. They all knew before me. I was hurt. And when I’m hurt or embarrassed, I kind of become a mega asshole.
Except these days. These days, I cry. All the time. And nap. Goodness a nap is like the greatest thing ever. Except at work. Yeah, falling asleep when you’re a bartender is not the best idea. Thankfully, Taylor is the most patient, understanding boss. That man is patient with a capital “P” for putting up with my crying outbursts and lengthy daydreams of napping.
This morning, I woke up and looked at my maid of honor dress and the newly formed spare tire I’m sporting. That sent me into my first fit of tears. Jameson, God bless him, had no idea what to do. As usual. He just held me and consoled me, telling me how amazing I am and how I need to give up singing at the wedding. I won’t do it. I worked too damn hard to push through my anxiety about singing for my family and friends. It’s still not my favorite thing to do, but I will do it.
I have the perfect song and have been rehearsing for weeks. “When You Say Nothing At All” by Alison Krauss has always been a song I imagined being played at my own wedding. But, as much as I love the song, it really is perfect for Ben and Piper’s love story and that makes me happy. Honestly, I don’t feel anxious about singing. I don’t feel the overwhelming need to vomit nor douse myself in deodorant. Nope, the anxiety seems to be at bay except for the crying. Which makes me tired, and therefore, I nap the day away.
Except today. Today, it’s tears, a catnap, and food. I want all the food. Preferably a grilled tuna melt with extra pickles and onion rings with a massive side of thousand island dressing for dipping. Don’t judge me; it’s amazing. This type of meal is probably why my bridesmaid’s dress is fitting a little snugger in the mid-section than I’d like. Thankfully, I invested in the mega version of Spanx and am good to go.
Unfortunately, the amazing dinner I want will have to wait. Tonight is the wedding rehearsal and dinner at my parents’ house. Mom is having the meal catered by one of the local Italian restaurants. Carbs are a decent concession to the grilled tuna sandwich.
I’m applying the last of my makeup when I hear Jameson walk in our bedroom. That’s not true, I smell him before I hear him. Damn he smells amazing. The citrus body wash he uses mixed with his natural scent and the cologne he spritzed in the other room have my ovaries working overtime.
“You about ready, babe?”
I turn from the mirror to take in my boyfriend. Ladies, Jameson Strauss is by far the hottest piece of man ever to walk the streets of Lexington. He’s standing before me in a pair of charcoal gray slacks and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with the collar loosened. The blue and gray tie he has around his neck remains loose and begging for me to tug it, and him, to me. His hair is styled with a little gel in that “I just rolled out of bed looking this sexy” way and his beautiful eyes settle on me appreciatively.
Poof. That was the sound of my panties self-destructing. A small smile appears, and his eyes crinkle at the side like they do when he’s ready to pounce me. I know he’s thinking of bending me over this sink. The sexual tension in this small space is not only obvious by the look in his eyes, but it’s the little tells he has. When Jameson is thinking kinky thoughts, his breathing speeds up a little, the rise of his chest is more evident. His pupils dilate more when he thinks of bending me over or taking me against a wall. But it’s the way a small vein in his neck pulses that always gives away his thoughts. Dirty thoughts.
As much as my libido, and my lady parts, would love to give him what he wants, if we’re late, my mom and Piper will kill us. And more unfortunate is the fact that I’m staying at Piper’s tonight after the rehearsal to help with all the last-minute wedding crafty crap she insists needs to be done. Okay, it’s not crap and had she not been sick all week, we would have it all done and I’d be living out some fantasies with my man.
Pulling myself from my own dirty thoughts, I finally respond to Jameson. “Just about. I need to throw a few things in my bag for tonight, then I’m good to go. Oh, and a pillow.”
Jameson doesn’t respond immediately so I saunter toward him, a little more sway in my hips than usual. With my makeup bag in one hand, I slowly walk my fingers up his arm. He shivers. I giggle.
“Put your dirty thoughts on hold, big boy. We’re in the home stretch, only two more nights of this pre-wedding chaos. At about this time on Saturday, we’ll be partying it up with everyone. And, if we’re lucky, tequila will finally appeal to me, and I’ll get tequila frisky.”
I barely finish my sentence before Jameson is scooping me up into his arms, the hem of my dress lifting to expose my thong, and the hand more interested in the hair at the nape of his neck than holding my makeup bag, drops it to the counter. My laughter intensifies as he grabs a handful of my ass. But the moment he kisses me, the laughter turns to a moan and like every other time he kisses me with such desire. Before I’m able to suggest we could be a few minutes late, Jameson slows the kiss and places a quick peck on my lips.
“You look beautiful, Ashton. I’m a lucky bastard.” I roll my eyes dramatically.
“No shit I look good. That’s a given,” I tease. “You better put me down, those five pounds I’ve put on with this wedding stress are going to break your back.”
“Shut up. You look perfect. And your tits look delectable.” His voice is husky and his eyes full of want. Just a few minutes . . .
“Nope, put me down, big guy. Piper will kill us both. I love you and would love nothing more than to allow you an opportunity to feast on my tits, and anything else you’d like, but we’ve gotta go. Shit, we have twelve minutes to get there.” I squirm from his hold and rush to my bag, tossing in my makeup bag.
“Relax, Ash. It’s three miles from here. We’ll be fine. Get your shit, and I’ll lock the house.”
I nod in response as I grab Jameson’s T-shirt he tossed on the bed earlier. If I’m not sleeping with him tonight, I’ll at least be comforted by his scent and clothes. I walk out of the room and toward the front door and see him standing waiting for me. I will never understand how I deprived myself of this for so long.