THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID (15 page)

Could what he said
be true? Could Stacey have played Hugh at the same time she was playing me? I
was afraid to trust what Hugh was telling me. It didn’t help that my head was
foggy from the vodka and I was having trouble focusing on anything other than
the merry-go-round otherwise known as my apartment.

“I need to sit
down,” I swayed again. I took a few unsteady steps backward aligning myself
with the chair that separated my entrance to my living space. I fell onto the
cushion with all of my weight and raised my chin to find Davis and Hugh looking
at me with concern.

“My life is in the
crapper! Cut me some slack!” I defended, finishing my statement with a hiccup.

I heard both men
sigh loudly and then my faithful doorman chimed in. Davis swiped the
embarrassing cap off of his head and started nervously kneading the brim with
all of his fingers. “Delilah. Can’t you talk to Gabriel?”

“Who’s Gabriel?”
Hugh questioned crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight to one
side.

“The guy she
sublets the apartment from?” Davis answered with annoyance and then softened
his tone when he turned back to me. “Maybe he will let you stay?” Davis looked
forlorn. Clearly he was upset that I was leaving.

I shook my head in
response. “He already leased it to somebody else. It was only a matter of time,
Davis. We both knew that someday Gabriel would return. And, while this is
definitely sooner than I expected there isn’t anything that I can do about it.”
I’m not sure how it happened but I was comforting Davis instead of the other
way around. “And anyway, Stacey had me transferred to another state. I don’t
have a job here anymore. This apartment is rent stabilized, not free.” I
swallowed loudly holding back the two cocktails that were threatening to do a
round-off-back-hand-spring from my stomach and up my esophagus.

I watched as
Hugh’s eyes and nose scrunched simultaneously in response to the effort it was
taking me to swallow my own saliva. And damn if he didn’t look as handsome as
ever doing it. I rubbed my hand over my face. So not fair.

“Delilah, you look
green,” he commented.

“Thanks,” I said
sarcastically. “I feel green.” My hand went to my mouth in an effort to hold
something in. “Excuse me a moment.” I dragged myself to standing and teeter
tottered to my bathroom. The toilet was holding immense appeal at that very
moment. Funny how a toilet could be so repulsive until one was ready to hurl.
Then it suddenly became the most inviting place one could ever hope for.

I felt two hands
gently gather the hair that lay against my back just before I bent over my
porcelain thrown to vomit. Then Hugh moved one warm hand to comfortingly rub my
back as the dirty martini’s made their second, this time unwelcomed,
appearance.

Uck.

“You okay?” Hugh
whispered.

Feeling totally
mortified, I straightened keeping my back to him. I sidestepped to the sink
feeling my hair slip through his fingers. I bent over the basin to rinse out my
mouth trying to procrastinate as long as possible so I wouldn’t have to face
Hugh. “You didn’t have to do that,” I remarked still feeling self-conscious.

Hugh ignored my
comment having more on his mind than having to hold my hair during my stomach’s
violent protest from my martini binge. “Delilah, what are we going to do? We
need to talk about this.”

I shook my head in
response as the thought of my predicament created another bout of nausea. “I’m
not sure,” I whispered.

“Do you want to
take the job in Virginia?” He queried.

Not really. But I
couldn’t tell that to Hugh. What if it was my only option? Then I would feel
like a pitiful fool in addition to a double-crossed imbecile. So instead, I
gave a shoulder shrug even though I already knew the answer. “I’m not sure.”

I loved PR. I
loved my job and what it entailed. But did I want to move back to Virginia to
keep doing it? If I didn’t make the move I would essentially be committing
professional suicide. My reputation would be in the toilet. The masses believed
that I requested the transfer. If I changed my mind I would look indecisive or
irresponsible. Neither boded well for my career. My hand travelled to my
forehead to ward off the headache that was beginning to lay its groundwork. I
looked in the mirror above the sink and watched as Hugh filled the space behind
me.

His lips formed a
straight line just as the entire conundrum became unbearably overwhelming for
me. It was as if he could read my mind. “Maybe we should just sleep on it,” he
suggested. His hands snaked around my stomach as he pressed in behind me giving
me a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure it out,” he whispered in my ear as his
eyes locked on mine in the mirror. “Don’t worry.”

I nodded agreeably
even though I didn’t see an obvious solution. I was in no shape to make any
decisions, least of all life altering ones. So sleeping on it sounded like the
best idea. As we studied each other momentarily in the bathroom mirror, a voice
carried toward us from down the hall. “Guys? Everything okay in there?”

I snapped from the
protective bubble Hugh’s hands had created and began to pull away from him.
“Yes, Davis, sorry!” I called. “Be right out!”

But Davis wasn’t
waiting. Apparently he had had enough as well. “I’ve gotta get out of here,
Delilah! I’ll see you tomorrow!” He called back just as we heard the front door
open. We immediately heard the click of the door catching in the frame
indicating Davis’ departure. Under normal circumstances I would have gone after
Davis to see if he was okay. I liked Davis. He was more than my doorman. He was
my friend. But the circumstances in which I found myself at that very moment
were far from normal and I just couldn’t muster even an ounce of energy to go
after him. I was officially overwhelmed. I was even unable to help myself.

Hugh snatched my
hand before I made it out of the bathroom. “Hey. Come’ere,” he pulled me in for
a hug wrapping his arms around me. One hand snaked up my back and into my hair.
He gently tangled his fist in the long tendrils as he took a deep breath
burying his nose in my neck. I hoped I didn’t smell as badly as I feared. Since
he stayed nestled there for a few beats I was guessing he didn’t find me all
that offensive.

I reluctantly
rested my hands on Hugh’s broad shoulders and spoke into his shirt. “I need a
few minutes to get cleaned up, Hugh.”

“Okay. Take your
time,” I felt his lips gently press against my neck. “I’ll watch some TV.” He
released me from our embrace kissing the top of my head as he maneuvered to
leave the bathroom. I saw his hands go to his shirt and start the process of
unbuttoning.

Not that I was
complaining, but I guess Hugh had decided that he was staying.

            I
stared at my couch thinking that it never looked quite that good. Don’t get me
wrong. I loved my couch. I had not only picked out the style but I had designed
it as well. I had chosen all different fabrics mixing them together to give the
sofa a Bohemian appearance. The cushions were filled with down feathers making
it super comfortable. It had cost me a fortune. But at that very moment it had
something extra special going for it. A tall, dark and handsome southern
gentleman spread out all over it. That couch never looked so good. Hugh’s
beautifully muscled body blanketed the cushions from one end to the other. His
feet were dangling off one end and his left arm was thrown over the back. His
shirt lay mostly open revealing the six-pack, which rose and fell with each
deep breath he took. There was a faint rumbling sound every time he inhaled, which
could hardly be categorized as a snore but I would have to tease him about it
later. I shrugged at the thought. It was my duty. Even with all the chaos that
currently defined my life, I couldn’t help the small smile that formed across
my lips. I sighed heavily as I went from lamp to wall switch turning out the
lights as I circled around the couch. I gave Hugh one last glance over my
shoulder as I retreated to my bedroom for the night. I wasn’t sure what
tomorrow was going to bring. I just knew that there was a whole lot of change
heading in my direction. But tonight I was going to delight in the knowledge
that Hugh Rowen was asleep on my couch.

Chapter 11

            My
body felt like it weighed a ton. I couldn’t move a muscle. I didn’t think I
drank that much the night before but since my arms were like lead weights and
my right leg felt like it had been cemented to the mattress I had obviously
misjudged how strong I had concocted my beverages. As I came into my coherent
mind from my dream state I tried to roll over on my side knowing a pain
reliever was about to become my new best friend. Fuck Julia, she wasn’t that
great in a crisis and she betrayed me. But as I made the grand effort to turn
over, my body was pinned to the bed by a large muscled arm wrapping around my
waist. Then it jerked me backwards turning me on my side and pulling me closer.
I looked down slightly perplexed and quickly realized that the arm was attached
to a body. A very warm, hard, beautiful body. And it was almost completely
naked. Not that I could see it under the covers but I could feel bare legs and
the light fuzz of a belly hair against my exposed skin. His boxer briefs were
on but they weren’t hiding the welcoming committee that was poking me from
behind. I became fully awake at that very moment just as the delicious voice
threw the beat of my heart into a gallop.

“Nice way to wake
up,” he murmured pressing his body in behind me.

Yep. That was for
sure. “Morning,” I said sweetly as my cutchie-coo woke up simultaneously. But
her thoughts weren’t sweet. Nope. Not at all. They were naughty. I could tell
by the party she was organizing in my panties. If a vagina could primp I would
swear that was what she was doing. Is that a flat iron she’s using? Why else
was it getting so hot down there so quickly?

“Sleep okay?” he
asked burying his face in the back of my neck.

“Mmhm,” I answered
blandly. I couldn’t say what I wanted to say, which was that I would have slept
better had I been aware I was sleeping next to him. That would sound
overbearing and needy. “You?” I asked instead.

“Mmhm,” he
returned. “Though I slept better once I was next to you.”

Oh!

How come it didn’t
sound overbearing and needy when he said it?

I didn’t know if I
should turn around to face him or stay put. I could very well kill him with the
dragon breath that I was cultivating in my mouth. I had that pasty thing going
on and every tooth felt like it was wearing a teeny-weeny sock, which was never
a good sign. So instead I pulled away and tugged at his arm at the same time.
“I just need to use the bathroom. Be right back.”

He released me
rolling to his back. As I made my way around my bed I watched him stretch his
gorgeous body, flexing it to life. I thought I should probably hurry it along
so I didn’t miss more of the show than was absolutely necessary.

Since I wasn’t
paying attention, my attention justifiably distracted by the god twisted in my
sheets, I took a full on goalie kick to my bed frame stubbing (more like
crippling) my toe. The immense pain coursed through my body leaving me
speechless. I dropped to one knee to wrap my hand around my toes and squeeze.
“Oh my God,” I squeaked.

Hugh flew out of
bed and rounded the footboard to me. “Are you okay?” he asked standing before
me. I raised my head and came face-to-face with Hugh’s cotton covered morning
glory. I froze, forgetting about the searing pain of my toe and pressed my lips
together.

“Sorry,” he said
apologetically.

My eyes travelled
up the long length of him, past his chest, and landed on his face. There I
found a devilish grin.

“No, you’re not,”
I answered snidely.

His grin turned
into a smile. “I meant about the toe.”

“Oh,” was all I
could answer sighing heavily.

Then I slowly
stood with the help of his outstretched hand and limped to the bathroom.

            After
my bathroom routine, which ended up including a pain reliever more for my toe
than my hangover, Hugh used the bathroom. I passed him in the threshold of the
doorway, which was a tight squeeze. I wondered if he had timed it that way on
purpose. He grabbed my hips grazing my body against his to slide past. I was
beginning to think that Hugh was a big tease.

I hobbled to the
kitchen to get a pot of coffee going. I had a lot of decisions to make. Whether
or not I was prepared to face them was irrelevant. My life was on its ear and
since it was the middle of the month, I was guessing I only had about two weeks
to sort it out. As the worry and consequent pressure began to build in my mind,
two large hands snaked around my belly and turned me around. “Good morning,” Hugh
breathed as he pulled me up and in for a deep but gentle, tongue tasting, lip
caressing kiss. My eyes fell closed as I relished the delicious way his mouth
tasted mine.

When he took his
lips away my eyes lazily drifted open. “Mornin’,” I answered.

“I need to talk to
you, Delilah,” he informed authoritatively. “I have a few thoughts and I want
you to listen to what I am going to suggest.”

In that moment if
he told me that I had to turn myself inside out and become a crustacean I would
have attempted to do so. So, of course, I said, “Okay. Um. Right now? Or can we
wait till I had a cup of coffee? I’m much more attentive after I’ve had my
coffee.” I felt it only fair that he make an informed decision.

He dipped his head
slowly tasting my mouth again and this time when he did I was ready. My hands
snaked into his hair just as I felt his fingers locate and start to gently
caress my bottom. Then he pulled away grumbling. “Coffee first.”

I nodded in
agreement although I would have preferred he suggested unabashed sex first. But
coffee would have to do.