Page 7 of Finally a Bride: Best Friend's Brother

“Dad?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking. How’s Mallory doing?”

“Someone named Ella’s with her.”

“Ella Smith. You remember the Smiths from next door?”

“You mean the Ella who wore pigtails and carried around a pad of paper to write notes even when she was five like she was thirty-five?”

“That’s the one.”

Shit, she’s changed…

Dad clears his throat. “She’s grown up, hasn’t she?”

I try to stop it, but I nod in agreement.

She’s no longer a girl. She’s all woman. Delicate curves, soft edges, bright smile, curious eyes, and deliciously soft-looking lips. And no notebooks.

Always wondered what was in those notebooks.

“When do you go back, McCabe?” Dad asks taking a last long drag and then sticking the butt into the cigarette disposal on the trash can.

And that’s enough to snap me from dreaming about long legs and soft skin.

I should consider Ella off limits. I’m heading back in a week. It’s barely enough time to catch my breath before I turn back around and have my feet back in boots.

It’s not enough time to treat a woman right.

For a night, maybe…

“McCabe, how long will you be here?” he enunciates each syllable.

“Seven days. I go back to Grafenwöhr a week from yesterday.”

“She won’t be okay before you leave, but we can get her through this. Let’s head in there and talk to Mallory.”

“Right. This is all about what she needs, Dad.”

“I agree.”

This is something new… us agreeing. Who would’ve thought?

Inside we see Mallory being consoled by her friends and Ella’s right there by her side.

I used to call her and Mallory, Mac and Cheese. They just went together. Plus, they were a little cheesy. But man, there’s nothing cheesy about this moment. Ella used to be this gangly little girl with floppy pigtails and a toothless smile and these questions— fuck, all the questions. Inquisitive and slightly annoying. But none of that’s true anymore.

I smile at the thought, catching Ella smiling at me.

I can’t help but admire her from afar. My eyes riding down her soft facial features to the roundness of her breast, the deep snatch of her waist, and then to her blossoming hips, just waiting for fingerprints from holding on a little too tightly. Sweat beads on her chest, from grinding our bodies together over and over and…

“McCabe!” Mallory screams from twenty feet away.

It might be part jetlag but I’m almost in a sexual blackout when I’m around Ella. “Yeah! Yeah, what?”

All of the women look like they’re cats that have eaten birds.

Mallory looks to Ella and I can see the flush that’s over her face.

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