Page 12 of Contingently Yours
Shaw grimaces at his husband’s wretched pose and sighs, then tosses me a disapproving look. I level my gaze right back at him.
“Iamcoming home with a commission,” I inform him with conviction. “Thanks for the advice.”
Turning on my heel, I head toward the door, deciding I’ve gotten as much out of this prom dress as I’m going to get. The rest, unfortunately, will be up to my wits and Lucas.
“Drew!” Shaw calls, stopping me when I hear his footsteps shuffling after me.
I turn around to find him holding out his palm, eyes narrowed. “I’d like my key back.”
“Fine, but if you throw your back out trying to pry Terry out from underneath the furniture, don’t call me. I won’t be able to get in.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he mutters. “Enjoy your trip.”
Despite that last disingenuous jab, I spring down their front steps feeling fairly confident about myself. I am going to pull this off, and Lucas is going to get with the program, even if I have to impale him with another listing sign. Or…if I have to lip lock him, I guess. Whatever. I just kissed Terry. As long as Lucas doesn’t react the wayhedid, we’ll be fine.
Oh, fuck…
Ikissed Terry—Terry, who just had his mouth wrapped around my cousin’s dick. Mycousin’sdick!
I let out something between a wild goose’s mating call and a moan that startles some woman across the street who’s watering her lawn. If she knew I potentially had remnants of my cousin’s dick juices on my mouth, she’d be making this noise too. Ally or not, I draw the line at the transferring of a relative’s dick juices.
Staggering, my body turns into rubber, convulsing. If Terry didn’t like me putting my beer cap on his counter, I’m guessing he’s not going to like me painting their shrubs with stomach bile, either. Serves them right for giving terrible advice.
CHAPTER 4
Lucas
“What do you think?” Jolissa asks, angling her phone’s camera until a gaudy vase comes into view. It’s wide and clear, adorned with tiny white seashells around the lip and sapphire-blue stones adhered to the body. It’s hideous.
Shifting in place as I wait for the baggage claim conveyor belt to start, I hold back a cringe. I’ve done what I can to be optimistic about all the wedding plans, but it’s getting more difficult to act invested in the remaining fine details. I don’t know if it’s because I’m footing the bill or if it’s because I’m their big brother and the closest thing to a father figure they have, but the girls have insisted on including me in the decision-making since day one.
“How much are they?” I ask, glancing up when I hear the loud slap of flip-flops approaching.
Andrew saunters toward the baggage claim with a Christmas ornament inside a clear gift shop bag, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it’s June. He empties a packet of mixed nuts into his pie hole with his other hand like he hasn’t a care in the world. I didn’t have to see much of him on the flight since his precious self booked a first-class seat and he showed up at the very last minute when it was time to board the plane. Nice to see he’s back to his frat-boy, beach-party image in shorts and a tank top. I guess he only had it in him for one day to impress the Hepperlys.
“Sixty-five dollars…” Jolissa’s wary reply comes over the phone.
My eyes nearly bug out of my head. Once she sees my expression, her sheepish look grows even more sheepish.
“And you havehow manytables again?”
“Fifty-two,” Julia pipes in, appearing at her shoulder.
I run the math and assume my eyes bug out even further, given their twin expressions. Holy shit.
“That’s like over three thousand dollars just for ugly centerpieces that you’re only going to use once!”
“You think they’re ugly?” Jolissa’s voice rises. “Why didn’t you say so when I asked?”
Ugh. Now I’ve crushed her bridal dreams and look like a tight ass.
Julia hums, inspecting one of them. “They’re not my favorite either, JoJo.”
“Well, we’ve been in here for like thirty minutes already. We have to find something. Go find Mom. See what she thinks.”
Oh God. Not Kelly. I love my mother, but that woman adores anything that sparkles. These hideous vases are…extra sparkly. Also, while she’s as frugal as I am, she’s had a much more difficult time saying no to the girls for anything regarding their big day. It also doesn’t help that she thinks I’m a big-time real estate agent now.
“No! Wait, just…can’t you find something similar back home?” I bargain, knowing they’re on some day trip to North Charleston, where everything costs a pretty penny more than back in our rural town of Bolton.
