Page 77 of Cream and Punishment
Lex’s smile morphed into a frown, zeroing in on me. “What men? I told you I didn’t want any exotic dancers.”
“Killjoy,” Hattie muttered, which earned her a scathing glare from Lex.
I laughed, enjoying the way Lex’s brow wrinkled further when Hattie seemed unaffected by her scowl. “Don’t worry, you’re going to want to seethesemen.”
Kris grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “And their outfits. Definitely their outfits.”
Lex’s face flushed, her frown firmly in place. “I swear, if you ordered strippers, I’m going to lace all your drinks with laxatives next girls’ night.”
Rowan snorted, flipping her hood up. “I can get you something stronger from the evidence locker if you’d like. I never understood that bachelorette party tradition, anyway. If you’re sure you want to marry your partner, why spend a night so close to the wedding fooling around and lamenting how you’ll be tied down to one person from here on out?”
“Exactly,” Lex agreed, gloved hands on her hips. “I don’t need a—”
“Oh my soul, woman.” Hattie shook her head good-naturedly, cutting Lex off. “Spare us the sermon until after you see what we actually have planned.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, mirroring Lex’s defiant pose, “I was involved in planning this. Have a little faith.”
That seemed to pacify her, since she let her hands fall to her side.
Before she could worry further, a black SUV rolled into view, bumping over the uneven ground. It pulled up next to Kris’ minivan, remaining eerily still for a moment before the driver’s door opened.
McBride’s silver hair caught the late afternoon sun as he exited the vehicle. With his chiseled features and broad shoulders, I could picture him as quite the heartthrob in high school. Since Hattie had revealed more of their past, picturing him as a theatre kid was surprisingly easy.
Of course, that could be due to the wedding dress he wore.
His style mirrored my eighties dress, poofy sleeves and all, though his arms filled them out significantly better than my weak noodle arms did. He caught Hattie’s eye, an incriminating blush coloring his tanned face.
Hattie grinned, eyes twinkling as she waved him off. “I know, I know. I owe you big time. Now let’s get the rest of the men out here.”
Lex looked rapidly between McBride and me, her smile wide but brow furrowed. When he turned to open one of the back doors, she mouthed, “What is happening?”
I didn’t bother answering, instead rubbing my hands together like an evil scientist.
Colt hopped out of the SUV next, his wedding dress more form-fitting and off the shoulders like Belle fromBeauty and the Beast. And, for the record, he fit thebeautyrequirement well. With his well-defined cheekbones, freckles, and rich eyes, he looked like Eddie Redmayne’s dark-haired cousin. Personally, he was a little too pretty for me, but Lex had ultimately chosen well. Especially catching a glimpse of the physique he constantly hid under starched shirts and pleated pants.
You go, sis.
I turned my attention to the next guy exiting the car as Lex erupted into giggles next to me. I’d only ever met Isaiah once, another agent in Lex’s squad, but his intense stare was unforgettable. Not intense like creepy, mind you. But intense like he probably ate nails for breakfast and washed them down with a refreshing glass of lava. Somehow, wearing an A-line wedding dress with cap sleeves over his bulging biceps did nothing to his intimidation factor.
A brunette guy exited, laughing at something one of the remaining guys in the car said. I’d never met this guy before, but his princess-cut wedding dress was enough to keep him occupied as he squeezed the skirt through the door. A blonde guy with a ruffly nightmare of a dress slid out from the passenger side door, his immaculate hairstyle and posture reminding me unmistakably of Colt.
Just when I thought everyone was accounted for, a last man leapt from the back of the SUV. My heart leapt with him, landing somewhere in my throat and lodging itself there until a weird strangling sound gurgled out.
Max. In a wedding dress.
I’d foolishly assumed he wouldn’t make it since he was out of town. If only that were the case.
He straightened the skirt, a silky tent of fabric that must weigh ten pounds alone. When he caught sight of me, I seriously considered running. Both because of the impending awkwardness after the make-out of a lifetime and because he somehow looked great while I was one giant hair jewel away from a budget remake ofThe Labyrinth’s ball scene.
Talk about unfair.
Unfortunately, running would draw even more attention, both because of the spectacle it’d be and the fact that everybody else chatted amicably around the cars and compared dresses. So I did the natural, totally normal thing of pretending to inspect the unusually cloudless sky like it was about to dump rain on us. Which, with Michigan weather the way it was, it might.
My stomach pitched. Sweat gathered under my arms, and I mentally calculated the likelihood of anyone noticing if I slunk into the minivan and never came back out.
The odds didn’t look promising.
“Be honest” —Max’s voice came from a few feet in front of me, forcing me away from my sky-staring of shame— “does this dress make me look fat?”
