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Bad Boy's Bridesmaid: A Secret Baby Romance by Sosie Frost (7)

7

Nate

You told Mandy you’d help with the musician auditions?”

Bryce didn’t believe me. He was smarter than he let on. I promised a lot of things to get balls-deep into a girl. Most of it I regretted the next morning.

This time I’d have promised anything just to talk to Mandy again.

I offered him a beer from behind the bar, but it was before noon, and he had to save his liver until the reception. He asked for orange juice instead.

“I figured I’d help you guys out,” I said. “My taste in music is a hell of a lot better than yours.”

“And Mandy’s okay with it?”

“Sure.” It was a lie. She had no idea I was coming, but that made it fun. “We could use some time together.”

“Careful. Lindsey will chew you up and spit you out if you mess with her sister.” Bryce sighed. “At least before the wedding.”

“Mandy’s perfectly safe with me.”

“Yeah, right.”

The first time I wasn’t actually looking to screw around, and even my best friend didn’t trust my intentions. Damn. I’d be insulted if I wasn’t trying to apologize to Mandy so we could pick up where we left off.

But she hadn’t answered my calls or replied to my texts all week. It meant that I had to get crafty. Meet up with her in a place she wouldn’t expect me.

I never wanted a woman as badly as I wanted Mandy. I’d be damned if I pretended to be a prince, and I wasn’t the type of man who’d reaffirm her faith in marriage and relationships. But I could at least remind her she was twenty-three and had an entire life ahead of her before she turned jaded. Why waste the fun years worrying?

And so I did something I wasn’t proud of. Something I never thought I’d offer.

I took on more wedding responsibilities.

Bryce shoved a notebook over my bar and gave me Lindsey’s criteria for what she expected from her musicians.

“Dude, I can’t thank you enough. I need a break.” Bryce looked like he hadn’t slept, and I doubted it was any pre-wedding sex keeping him up. “Don’t get married, Nate.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“This magical day?” He sipped the orange juice before gesturing for something stronger. “It feels like we’re paying fifty grand for some appetizers and a day of stress.”

“Then comes the wedding night.”

“Yeah...” His voice trailed off. “She wants to try for kids right away.”

What?”

“She said it would bring us closer together.”

“Closer than a legally binding contract?” I snorted. “Christ, you’ll share a tax return. How much closer can you get?”

“I know, man. I’m just trying to stay out of swinging range.”

“Good call.”

“Lindsey won’t be at the audition. She said she wants to be surprised when she walks down the aisle. So try to find a band that would make her weep but not actually sob.”

“O-kay.”

Bryce eyed the beers on tap. He was welcomed to as much as he needed to make it until the wedding. He shook his head.

“Remember to write what you feel when you hear the music. Lindsey would like a short essay. Nothing crazy.”

Yeah. Because an essay wasn’t insane.

Bryce handed me the rest of the homework Lindsey required. I should have said something, should have warned him right then and there.

Getting married to his girl shouldn’t have come with an alcohol habit and a thousand-yard stare. He should have been happy. Excited to see his woman. Thrilled to touch her.

Willing to wedding plan just to make sure he hadn’t fucked everything up.

I didn’t even recognize myself. This was the last goddamned time I let myself get wound around a woman. Mandy was special, but I had no idea she was subject-myself-to-wedding-bands special. Now I couldn’t get her scent, her taste, or her beautiful smile out of my head.

One more night with her would satisfy my urges. It had to.

Maybe a morning goodbye quickie too. She’d look gorgeous basking in the golden early morning light. Then we’d have breakfast in bed, the perfect way to regain strength for a mid-afternoon fuck. Hell, while she was already there, it was easy enough to keep her with me for another night

That was a dangerous fantasy. Even more dangerous because I already imagined how the morning sun would strike her naked body, wrapped only in a silken sheet. Mandy was all about contrasts. White sheets, dark skin, passionate lover, sweet friend.

Good girl at home, bad girl for me.

I would seduce Mandy Prescott again, and I’d introduce her to more pleasure than she knew existed. We’d use each other for stress relief until the wedding, no regrets.

I had to convince her it was a good idea.

Easier said than done.

Lindsey reserved the fellowship hall at my dad’s church for the auditions. I hadn’t been there since Easter, and that wasn’t by choice. Mom had called, flustered and sobbing because she lost the pink Easter hat Dad demanded she wear. Had I not been there to hold her hand, Dad would have turned the sermon from the joyful resurrection to something fire, brimstone, and focused on the role of the family—father as head of the church with the rest of us mere mortals subservient to him.

I didn’t bother visiting him. His office door was always open, but only to his parishioners. God forbid his own family had problems that required counseling. That would have meant we were imperfect and reflected badly on him.

I jogged the steps down to the fellowship hall, passing a man tuning his oboe in the stairwell.

Great. Lindsey ordered a symphony.

Mandy had set up a card table with a tablet at her fingers, score cards and listed criteria spread out before her. She snapped a selfie to post to whatever bullshit Instagram or Facebook album Lindsey demanded to chronicle her wedding planning.

I picked a chair from the stack against the wall and plunked it next to Mandy. She flinched, but her expression knotted both relief and apprehension into a wobbly smile.

“I thought you were Lindsey,” she said.

“I’m much worse, apparently.”

She cleared her throat and crossed her legs. Like I’d prop ‘em open and dig in during the auditions.

“You’ll never be worse than Lindsey,” she said.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Bryce asked me to help judge the bands.” There was some truth to the statement. “Figured I’d come visit. See if you had it handled.”

Mandy stared straight ahead. “Yep. All good. I’ll be okay on my own.”

“Nah, that’s not fair.” I crossed my arms behind my head, leaning back in my chair. “No sense doing this alone, baby.”

“I’m doing a lot of things alone.”

“No need.” I winked. “I’m at your service tonight.”

“I know what you’re trying to do

“I’m trying to take some of the pressure off you. Get these bands all auditioned and cataloged for Queen Lindsey.”

Mandy didn’t believe me, and she had good instincts. It didn’t stop her from gnawing on that perfect, full lip. Her fingers twisted in her skirt.

I loved to watch her squirm.

I was serious the last time I trapped her in my embrace. I wanted her to think of me, dream of me, want me every second of the day. When I first tasted her, I fantasized about being the only man who could pleasure her that well. Fortunately, I had no competition.

But it wasn’t enough. Something about this woman had changed since the last time I slept with her—something that made her absolutely irresistible.

“The first band comes highly recommended,” Mandy said. “Traditional sound. Quartet.”

“So…this is how it’s going to be?”

She knew exactly what I meant. “I have to audition these groups for my sister.”

“We’re not even going to talk about what happened the other day?”

Mandy scribbled on the corner of the paper, accidently poking a hole through the essay section with the pen.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t have to talk about it? My one freebie was supposed to come with no strings.”

“Yeah, but I think you’d feel better if you talked about it.”

Her smile wasn’t kind. “You know, Nate. With your reputation? I expected you to back off once you got what you wanted.”

So did I. “Maybe I want something else.”

“And what’s that?”

“You.”

Mandy hesitated. “Do you know what I need?”

“What?”

“The only thing I’ve ever asked of you.” Her almond eyes met mine briefly, a quick tease of power she didn’t know she possessed. “I want to make it to the wedding without any more complications.”

“How do you know I’d complicate things?”

“You already have.”

She smiled at the musicians timidly waiting at the door. If they thought auditioning for a wedding was strange, they didn’t say anything.

Christ, I hoped there weren’t more brides like Lindsey making demands in the world.

The first two groups performed their sets and sounded decent. Wasn’t my type of music, but it’d work for a wedding. Of course, my opinion wasn’t good enough for the bride.

Lindsey armed Mandy with score cards and instructions. She demanded a shit ton of information about her music—well beyond genres and skills. Mood, tone, warmth qualities, sexiness, ability to cover Adele, and set songs. Nothing about price or availability. Apparently if she liked them, she’d hire them, no questions asked.

Mandy’s foot tapped as she listened. She had no idea what she did to me. How long could a man last watching her wiggle with the beat?

This was no way to listen to music or judge how romantic a song was. The group struck up a slow ballad and strummed on soft strings with a sultry rhythm. I grabbed the score cards from Mandy and ripped the paper in two.

Her eyes widened like I’d burned the US flag or, worse, Lindsey’s wedding program.

“What are you doing?” Mandy screeched. “Lindsey’s gonna kill me!”

“There’s only one way to figure out what music is right for a wedding.” I didn’t ask, just took her hand. “You gotta dance to it, baby.”

“Oh, no.” Mandy shrunk away, awkwardly shaking her head, even as the band encouraged her. “Really, I’m good.”

I tugged her out of the seat. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Dancing with you?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a lot of things that could happen.”

That wasn’t good enough for me. “I can think of only one—you enjoy it.”

Mandy dug her heels into the floor, but she wasn’t strong enough to fight me, especially when I lured her with the most powerful weapon I possessed.

A smile.

“Nate—”

I wrapped her in my embrace, but I was a gentleman. I kept my hands at her hips. It was the only thing that prevented her from dissolving into a puddle of embarrassment. I liked that. For whatever reason, it was cute on her. She panicked around me like she didn’t trust herself so near my body.

Not in the swaying music.

Not with my touch upon her waist.

Not with my breath in her ear.

The ballad slowed and dipped, and the musicians helped me out. They played a slower, sexier, more intimate song, and Mandy couldn’t escape the beat.

Her fingers curled into my shirt, and she didn’t pull away. I’d take anything I could get. Simply touching this woman excited me. I never wanted to let her go.

For the first time, I stopped caring what it meant. It was time to keep her in my arms.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” I breathed deep, savoring the warm vanilla trace over her skin.

Her body softened, and she rocked within my arms.

“I don’t trust your intentions,” she said.

“You know what they are.”

“You want to sleep with me.”

Yes. Definitely. Maybe more, but neither of us had the clarity of thought to imagine beyond the bedroom.

“You’re beautiful. You’re sweet. You’re the best fuck I ever had.”

Her voice lowered. “I bet you say that to all the virgins.”

“Give me a shot.”

“It’s not that simple, Nate.”

Nothing was simpler than what our bodies craved. “It’s just sex. You liked it. I was there.”

Mandy couldn’t look at me, like she was embarrassed to be the one woman who completely owned my pleasure.

“You know I’m not a girl who does…that.”

“I know you’re freaked out. Something is bothering you, baby, and I don’t think it’s all about the wedding. Let it go.”

“You have no idea what I’m going through.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t, or this becomes more than just sex.” She shook her head. “I’m not like you, Nate. I need stability and promises and more than just following instinct.”

“What about desire?”

I pulled her closer. She moved a hand to my chest, brushing over my heart. It was my luck that it fucking pounded just as she touched me. I was drunk on her without taking a sip.

“You’re twenty-three, baby. You’re supposed to be having fun. Getting laid by men who want nothing more than to fuck your brains out. You should be excited to escape your family and see the world and have no responsibilities to anyone but yourself.”

Mandy’s voice caught. “Is that what you want?”

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t know. No?”

“You only go around once, right?” I nuzzled her, but Mandy refused to look at me. “Why not have your fun before you’re saddled with all the bullshit that comes with those complicated relationships you want. House. Husband. Kids running everywhere. That’s so far in the future you shouldn’t even waste time imagining it. Right now you have complete control over your life—so enjoy it.”

“You really have no idea…” Mandy pushed away, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this now. I have to go.”

“What?”

Mandy didn’t wait. She grabbed her purse and apologized to the band. She bolted from the fellowship hall and escaped through the rear of the church. The door clanged shut. I flinched.

What the hell did I do wrong? I’d never had this much trouble getting a girl into bed.

And I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble if it wasn’t for her.

Son of a bitch. I resisted the urge to kick the chair. The musicians stood.

I faced them, trying to grin through the embarrassment of getting rejected in the middle of a waltz.

“Tell you what,” I said. “You got this gig if one of you can explain to me what the fuck I did wrong.”

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