Page 78 of Cream and Punishment
I snorted the piggiest snort I’d done yet. Our awkward discussion clearly wouldn’t take place here and now. I could blissfully pretend nothing happened between us, even if my body lit up like a lightning storm being this close to him again.
Easy breezy.
After his initial apology text, all of our messages back and forth had been oddly…normal. For us, anyway. He’d sent an abundance of photos from Miami, ranging from a seagull scarfing an entire taquito in one go to selfies of him with his family members, including his tough-as-nailsabuela. Along with the photos, he’d kept a running commentary on things that happened there. It was almost like he’d never left, and we were chatting over dinner.
Almost.
As much as I acted like everything was fine over text, the agitated, sinking feeling since he left hadn’t completely subsided. It was an undercurrent, a subconscious tensing of my muscles that never eased. All of which I wouldn’t let him know, in threat of death.
I forced my shoulders to relax and my errant brain to focus more on my relief and delight to see him again rather than our murky future. “Hmm, actually I think it accentuates your figure quite nicely.”
It accentuated hiseverythingquite nicely. Which was weird, right? It should be comical—and it was—to see your forbidden crush in a thrift store wedding dress, but the dress didn’t hurt his looks at all. What I could see made my mouth go drier than a Walmart cake. Toned, corded muscles rippled under his olive skin. The spaghetti straps against his shoulders, though funny, trailed down to a straight neckline that showed just the right amount of chest hair. I wasn’t even a chest hair kind of girl until now, butgolly dang dill pickles, he’d converted me. The stark white of the dress made his smooth skin glow and accentuated his black hair and dark lashes.
“You think so?” he asked, pulling my attention away from ogling what shouldn’t be an attractive sight to begin with. “Would my beauty pageant sister be proud?”
“Oh, for sure. In fact, she’d be so proud, she’d want to tell everyone she knows.” I smirked, barely keeping my smile in check. “You should send her a pic.”
He twanged one of the spaghetti straps. “Maybe I will. I think white is my color.”
It was. Itsowas.
“Oh yeah?” I bit my lip, my smile making a desperate bid for freedom. “You aren’t afraid she’ll be jealous?”
His eyes tracked the motion, darkening to soot.
I shivered despite the sticky humidity. For someone who regretted the kiss so much, he sure looked at me like he wanted another go.
He blinked, and the smiling, couldn’t-be-bothered Max stood in front of me once again. “Are you kidding? That’s exactlywhyI’ll send her a photo. I haven’t been able to beat her at anything since senior year of high school.”
I laughed, finally letting my smile free. Man, I’d missed him. Even when things were weird between us, even when I didn’t know how we’d get through whatever bump in the road we’d hit, I still missed him.
“Alright,” Hattie called over the crowd, waiting until the din died down, “thank you all for coming. Boys, thank you for combining part of Colt’s bachelor party with us tonight, and for being secure enough in your masculinity to participate fully.”
Max leaned in, whispering, “Or McBride threatened us, but let’s go with the masculinity thing.”
I snorted again, which drew everyone’s attention away from Hattie and toward me.
Oh sweet baklava, put me out of my misery. Could I pretend it was someone else? Just in case, I looked behind me, scrutinizing the ground as if I’d find the pig behind the snort hiding in the grass.
No such luck. There was a suspicious looking branch, but that was it.
“Good save,” Max whispered, not the least bit penitent for causing me to snort in the first place.
I elbowed him, which was as effective as elbowing a brick wall. “Shh, I’m trying to pay attention.”
He laughed but otherwise remained quiet.
“Many of you are likely wondering why we’re out here in the woods for our party, and why we combined what are traditionally very separate events.” Hattie grinned, relishing the suspense as she slowly panned over the crowd. “Well, it’s simple, really. We’re here to play capture the flag.”
A murmur went through the crowd as a thrill of excitement and trepidation raced up my spine.
“But,” Hattie projected over the noise, “this isn’t any old game of capture the flag.” Another ripple of sound went through the crowd, mainly the men and Lex. “Oh no.Thisis much better.”
With that, Kris opened the trunk of her minivan as McBride opened that of the SUV. Stacks of masks lined each trunk with a large case on each side. Hattie opened one of the cases, pulling out a gun with a weird bulbous thing on top filled with tiny pink balls.
Max let out a low whistle, eyes alight with excitement. “Paintball?”
Hattie beamed, soaking in the anticipation radiating off the bridal party. “Yep, paintball. Bride tribe versus groom squad.”
