Page 3 of Just One of the Groomsmen
While his girlfriend—make that fiancée—was pretty patient and understanding of Shep’s crazy, out-there ideas, she was alsoextremelygirly.
“I’m sure that went over about as well as coming out as a vegan in the middle of Sunday dinner.”
“She understands you’re just one of the guys,” Shep said, and a hint of hope rose up.
She hated that she’d immediately felt left out, the same way she used to when a group of girls would show up at the bar and suddenly she’d be alone, no one to help with game commentary.
“But she’s also more traditional, her family even more so,” Shep continued.
“I understand,” Addie said. “I don’t think I’d look very good in a tux anyway, and my own mother would probably die twice over it.”
Since Addie hadn’t been on a date in a depressing amount of time, Mom had also recently given her this whole spiel about dressing up once in a while, and how men wanted to feel needed, so to make sure not to act so assertive and dominant all the time.
Like she didn’t want to feel needed?
She’d just prefer a possible significant other want her the way she was, not because she donned a dress and acted helpless.
“Which is why…” Shep straightened, his hazel eyes locking on to her. “Lexi and I came up with a compromise. You’ll be a groomsman in name and when it comes to all the usual pre-wedding stuff, but in order to be part of the wedding party, you’re gonna have to wear the same dress and shoes as the bridesmaids.” The rest of the words came out in a fast blur, like he hoped if he talked fast enough she might miss them. “And you might have to dress up one or two other times.”
The guys burst out laughing.
“Murph in a dress and heels,” Easton said. “That’ll be the day.”
Addie picked up the nearest object she could find—a weather-warped coaster—and chucked it at his head. It bounced off, and, if anything, only made him laugh harder.
The table shook, and when she glanced at Tucker, he had a fist over his mouth in an attempt to smother his laughter.
“You too?” Was karma punishing her? Was this what she got for being comfortable for most of her twenty-seven years?
“Please, Addie,” Shep said. “I know it’s not your thing, but I can’t imagine you not being part of this.” He shot a challenging glare at the group of them. “And spare me the jokes about actually caring about my wedding. I never thought I’d be this happy, but I am, and I need you guys with me on this.”
This time, the “you guys” definitely included her.
Which made it that much easier to say, “I’m in. I’ll do whatever you need me to.”
…
Man, it was good to be back in town, even if only for a quick weekend.
Tucker had been working hours and hours on end, thinking that eventually he’d have enough experience and clout to slow down a bit. It never slowed down, though, his workload multiplying at an impossible-to-keep-up-with pace.
Now that he was seated around the poker table with his friends, though, all felt right with the world.
“You’re bluffin’,” Addie said when Easton threw several chips into the pot. She matched his bet, and then they laid down their cards, her full house easily beating his pair of aces. “Read ’em and weep, sucker.”
She shoved the sleeves of her two-sizes-too-big hoodie up her arms as she leaned over the table to gather her winnings. Her familiar movements were nearly second nature, as much to him as her. She flopped back in her chair and reached into the bag of Lay’s for a different kind of chip.
Her knee came up to rest against the table, rattling everything on top and boosting the time-machine effect, and she wiped her fingertips on her frayed jeans before reaching for the newly dealt cards. Her neon-colored gel sneakers, the one new item in her outfit, reminded him of all her lectures on how important the right shoes and changing them often were for your joints.
He cracked a smile again at the thought of her in a dress and heels, bouquet in hand. The image still didn’t compute. It was kind of like animals wearing human clothes.
It just wasn’t right.
It wasn’t that they’dneverseen Addie wear a dress; it was that she loathed them with a hatred he withheld for things like paperwork and blind refs who ruined games.
She’d once slugged him in the shoulder for even mentioning her dress-wearing at her sister’s wedding. The skirt had been long and baggy, and the real tragedy was that she couldn’t toss around the pigskin.
So then they’dbothhad to sit there with their hands folded in their laps for what seemed like forever and it was boring as hell, an emotion he’d rarely experienced around her.
