Everybody's After Love (11 page)

She giggles as we sit down beside the engaged couple. Bri pats the little girl’s leg. “I see you’ve met ‘Ariel.’ She’s the flower girl and only in town until tomorrow. I thought she’d really enjoy this part of wedding planning.”

Ariel and I lock eyes, big grins on our faces. “I think we both will,” I answer.

Bri’s hand now moves to mine as she pats it and whispers, “Sorry Bentley couldn’t come.”

At the mention of his name and possibly seeing him, my stomach flutters, but I just shrug trying to play it cool.

“He really wants you to come fishing tomorrow,” she adds on.

“I can’t, I’m going to the game with Doug and his wife,” I quickly reply, reminding myself to thank Smitty later for bowing out.

“Oooh, Jules, look!” Ariel says, tugging on my dress.

My gaze turns to where Ariel is pointing as the baker sets four plates of the largest pieces of chocolate cake on the table in front of us. Ariel and I pick up our fork and clink them together, both of our worlds are about to be chocolate-filled.

Eight hours later, I’m lying in my bed and I think I’m in sugar shock. I have never eaten so much cake in one day. It’ll be a long while before I ever want to see it again. We had chocolate, vanilla, marble, red velvet, millennium burst, cinnamon swirl, and the list goes on. By the end of the afternoon, Ariel and I were sharing one piece of each flavor, giggling about anything and everything, because that’s what a sugar high does. It makes you completely delirious and causes you to bounce off the walls. I feel bad for her poor parents tonight and all I can say for myself is thank God for yoga pants.

Dozing in and out of my sugar coma as
A League of Their Own
plays on TBS, my phone beeps. Picking up my cell, I notice that my sugar shakes are gone as I check the incoming text message.

How was cake tasting?

Bentley. I sigh and type back.
Good, don’t think I’ll be eating cake for a long time.

Not even twenty seconds later, I read:
Lol-that’s what I heard. So, you gonna make it out here to fish tomorrow? I’d love to see you.

Yes. Yes, I want to go fishing. Yes, I want to see Bentley. I want to be in his arms again, our fingers locked like they were meant to always be like that, but no, he has a girlfriend. There’s nothing more that needs to be said or done.

Quickly typing back, I tell him I’m going to the game. The response I get in return is a simple frowny face. I shut my phone off before he can ask about the next weekend as well. If only I didn’t have to walk down the aisle with him in four months then I could drop my guard and have some “fun” with him.
Right, that’s the only reason keeping me from hanging out with him.
I sigh. If only my heart didn’t still ache from having lost him once already when he wasn’t even mine.

***

Between SportsCenter and waiting for Jules to text back, it’s already midnight. I get the feeling that she’s avoiding me but why I’m not sure. I thought we’d really connected at the lake and if she ever came fishing, I had plans of a picnic complete with chocolate covered strawberries and gummy worms for both snacking and fishing with. Not to mention a night on the town in that new dress of hers.

“Bent, you still up?” I hear my sister whisper down the stairs.

I turn off the T.V. and she walks into the room. Crossing her legs, she takes a seat on the couch and purses her lips, a sure sign that she wants to discuss something.

I raise my ‘brows and nod, trying to encourage her to talk. “What’s on your mind, Brianna?”

“Jules,” she says matter-of-factly.

I sigh. “Yeah, me too.”

She shrugs. “You two had such a great time at the lake, I just don’t get it. I mean, sure you came on fast, totally unlike you, but it didn’t seem to scare her off. What did you do?”

“Hey!” I toss a pillow at her but she’s right, I came on way too fast. That has to be it.

Giggling, she holds her hands up to block my throw. “She has such a great poker face, I just can’t read what it is. I mean when she’s with you, she’s all dreamy, but whenever you’re not around and you’re mentioned, she clams up. Maybe you should talk to James Paul.”

I don’t think it’s a great idea, I know I wouldn’t willingly give out information about my sister. But I need Jules. I need to hear her laugh, watch her scrunch her nose at slimy fish, feel her hand fit in mine like matching puzzle pieces, touch her heart again. I have no obligations other than work until the wedding so I need to jump on the opportunity to get to know her, turn our friendship into more. I sigh. Looks like I’ll be calling J.P. in the morning to get the inside scoop on his sister.

CHAPTER 12

Pink’s
Raise Your Glass
plays overhead in the smoky bar that’s lit up by fluorescent signs around the room. Following directions, I raise my shot glass and grin at Smitty. He shakes his head and raises his beer. Hitting our glasses together lightly, I toast, “To good times!”

I throw my head back and toss the shot of vodka down my throat, biting into a lemon as I finish and scrunching up my nose as my throat burns. Smitty sips his beer and laughs at me.

“What’s with you tonight, Jules?” he asks.

I roll my eyes. I hate how he, Paulie, and Doug think they know me so well. Nothing’s wrong, I just want to go out and have fun tonight. Forget that the last text I got from Bentley was a sad emoticon almost a week ago. Taking a sip of my light beer, I let out a loud ah, more so to distract Smitty from his question than at the refreshing taste.

Glancing around the room, I see a group of women on the small, makeshift dance floor. They’re definitely on the prowl and I can tell Smitty’s on their radar as two of them whisper and giggle as they sneak glances his way. I don’t blame them, Smitty is hot with his brown buzzed hair that’s always covered by a hat, his dark bushy eyebrows that give him a look of mystery, and his light green catlike eyes are almost hidden by the longest eyelashes I have ever seen on a man. He always sports a day old beard with a small mustache and a dab of a goatee. He acts like it’s natural but I’ve seen how hard he works on it. And let’s not forget to mention that when he isn’t running his construction company, he can be found in the gym. All his hard work is paid off in return of a rock solid bod that has most women wanting to rip his clothes off. I say most, because Smitty is like a brother to me so any fantasies of him like that make me gag.

I nod in the direction of the dance floor and lean back in my chair. “Looks like those ladies might be interested in ‘ya, Smitty.”

He looks in their direction before he takes another sip of his beer and looks at me. “Jules, they’re never coming over here, especially not with you dressed like that.”

I look down at my outfit. I’m wearing an old pair of American Eagle jeans with rips and holes all over along with a plain black tank top, granted I am wearing my push-up bra, but it was the only one that was clean. Smitty called me at the last minute to see if I wanted to hang out with him after work. He hates to sit at home on a Friday evening, especially since he dropped his girlfriend of two years. I can never say no to my brother or any of his friends so I pulled my hair up in high ponytail and slipped on a pair of flip flops. I’ve been moping around all week since Bentley hadn’t texted me, not that I cared of course…or so I tried to convince myself.

“Maybe that’s my plan.” I grin and add, “Don’t want to lose my back-up.”

Smitty and I are each other’s back-up plan. If neither of us are married by the time I’m thirty then we agreed we’d marry each other. Doug got married right after he finished college so that left Smitty and I to watch out for each other. I guess I’ll have to get over the gag effect he has on me if we ever cross that bridge.

He laughs and finishes his beer. “Me? What about you and Bri’s brother? You two seemed pretty cozy on opening day.”

Opening day
, that seems so long ago. It was the perfect afternoon with Bentley, well aside from my bedazzled shirt. We sat in our seats, his arm draped over the back of my chair until it rested on my shoulders and I was leaning against him. I’ve never fallen into such a comfortable routine with a man like I did Bentley. I sigh, we brought home a winner and he promised to take me again, but that was before he had a girlfriend… or maybe he did then too.

Gulping down and polishing off my own beer, I roll my eyes and deny it. “Whatever, Smitty. He had an extra ticket, that’s all it was.”

He raises his eyebrow. “That’s all, huh? Then why are you doing lemon drops? You only do those shots when you’re trying to get over a guy.”

Dammit!
These guys
do
know me way too well. I stand up and grab his glass. “Need another one?” He tries to slyly look over at the dance floor but I catch him red handed. “Go, have fun, just don’t marry one of them.”

He chuckles as he shakes his head and I saunter off to the bar. The bartender is at the opposite end so I lean over as far as I can while I push on my tip toes. Waiting for him to make his way down the bar to me, I glance around the room. The female to male ratio is quite off tonight, probably every man in this place could go home with a girl, or two, if he wanted. Hmm… maybe that’s what I need to get my mind off Bentley. Find a guy to have some fun with, no strings attached, won’t have to face him after tonight. Yes, it’s the perfect plan!

A smile creeps over my face as I spin around to see who the lucky guy is that’s going to help me get over Bentley Ladner. With the females on the dance floor, I’m going to have to make my move and quick before one of them attacks first.

A deep clearing of the throat breaks me from my prowl and I turn around to find exactly what I’m looking for. The tall, dark, and handsome bartender is wiping down the counter in front of me. He lifts his eyebrows and I see his brown eyes aren’t quite as captivating as Bentley’s and his arms aren’t nearly as robust as his either, but he’ll do. He’ll be able to take my mind off my misery, whether it be his body or his drinks.

I hold up two fingers and order. “Two lemon drops.”

Without saying a word, he pours two small glasses of vodka and slides a bowl of lemons my way. I take one and push it back to him as I pick up one glass. Holding it high, I nod to the other glass and he picks it up. Clinking our glasses, I smile as I bat my eyelashes and say, “To new friends.” He grins and lifts his eyebrows, letting me know that we both have the same idea of how tonight will end.

Three, no four shots later along with every drink concoction Sam could think of, I’m a giggling, hot mess with a shot of vodka between my cleavage and a lemon in my mouth. Sam walks around from behind the bar, taking a seat on the barstool behind me. He thick legs straddle mine as his hands slide up my thighs, his fingers touching my bare skin through the holes in my jeans, but unlike when Bentley touches me, I feel nothing. I’m numb and I blame the alcohol but that was the plan, right?

His hands move to my waist and he pinches my sides playfully. Giggling again, the lemon falls out of my mouth and I catch it in my hand as Sam kisses my neck, laughing with me. I close my eyes but Bentley immediately pops in my mind. Opening them as fast as I shut them, I hear a camera click and look over to see Smitty.

Shoving his phone in his back pocket, he maneuvers the shot glass from between my breasts without so much as touching me and sets it on the counter. Looking at Sam, he takes my hand and says, “Sorry, bud, she’s going home.”

“Hey!” I protest as he slaps some money on the bartop and leads us out to his car. I stumble through the gravel parking lot, giggling as I do. Stopping every few feet to retrieve a lost shoe, Smitty patiently waits for me. When I lose my flip flop for the third time, Smitty curses under his breath and then picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like a fireman’s carry.

Gravity pulls the blood to my head and I feel a bit dizzy, not to mention loopy from the alcohol. I playfully slap his backside and laugh. “Smitty, you’re supposed to wait until our wedding night to do this!”

We get to his SUV and he sets me down gently, leaning me against his Tahoe and holding me up with his hip as he tries to open the door. I look up at the moon and sigh as he pulls out his keys.

“Why are guys such idiots?”

Smitty looks at me with quirked eyebrows. He takes my hand and helps me into the passenger side, buckling my selt belt for me as he reclines the seat.

“Jules, I wasn’t going to let you go home with that guy.”

I roll my eyes and look at his cat like gaze. “I know that, Smitty. Thanks for saving me from another bad decision.”

He closes my door and walks around to the driver’s side. As he pulls onto the main road, he flips on the radio and scans the stations. A familiar tune comes on and I cry out, “Stop!”

Smitty slams on the brakes and I jolt forward. Quickly leaning over me to reach the handle, he looks down at me. “You gonna puke?”