Page 28 of Before We Say I Do

Chapter Eight

“That’s what you’ve been up to?”

Carla’s eyes bulged as she stared at her cousin.

“Yes, and I think I messed up big-time. Kyle is postponing the wedding or pushing the time back, whatever that means.”

London sat on the opposite side of the sofa in the loft of Kyle’s living room. She’d all but moved inside since their engagement but had yet to put her feminine touches on the place. She liked the soft grays and modern manly furnishings.

“Maybe he wants to get to the bottom of this before you guys jump the broom.”

“You know that’s a tradition slave owners used to make slaves do to force them into marriage?”

Carla clutched her chest. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“God.” Carla sat for a second in thought, then expelled a shiver. “You get where I was going though, right?”

“I do, and I didn’t expect this to go left. I don’t want anything getting in the way of our wedding.”

“That’s just the thing, muffin, this is in your way. You’ve kept secrets. Lied to the man, for Pete’s sake. How much further were you willing to take it?”

“Clearly not too far because I told on myself.”

“Do you regret it?”

“I regret never confiding in him in the first place. What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“Please, Kyle loves you. And I don’t mean, I love you, I mean, he’s in love with you. Kyle will forgive you if he hadn’t already.”

“I feel so awful. Already I’m a bad wife, and I’m just a fiancée.”

“You’ve got me there.”

London gasped, then sulked even further into the cushions.

Carla chuckled and got to her feet, leaving the room for the open kitchen. There, she brewed some hot cocoa, added marshmallows, then filled two mugs and carried them back into the living room.

“Nothing makes you feel better like a hot cup of cocoa.”

“Hmmm.” London accepted her offer, blowing softly across the steaming surface.

“And maybe,” Carla went into her handbag and pulled out a joint. “A little weed might help, too.”

London’s eyes lurched. “I’m over here going through trouble, possibly on the brink of losing my fiancé, and you pull out some weed?!”

“First of all, you’re not on the brink of losing anyone, and, yes, weed.”

London’s eyes lowered, and she shrugged. “Ah, what the hell, let’s go on the patio.”

Carla bounced her shoulders. “See, that right there is what I’m talking about!” She put the joint in her mouth, then lifted her hand for a high five.

London lightly tapped her palm. “Don’t waste that cocoa.”

“I got this.”

They strolled to the patio then Carla stopped suddenly.

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