Page 70 of Contingently Yours
Ha! Wait until he meets them in person. As I sit up and sling my legs over the side of the bed, I stare at my feet. Lucas meeting Shaw and Terry someday… I wait for the hypothetical to freak me out, but it doesn’t. He’d probably get along great with my cousin, to be honest.
Look at me, already acing this not-being-so-fake thing. Maybe dating wouldn’t be so difficult, after all.
“I can text you when I get home, though,” I reassure him, grabbing some boxers on my way to the table. “Unless you’re busy stuffing bags of rice or something.”
There was a time I was sick of hearing about his wedding worries, but now I can’t wait for the damn day to be over and done with. Maybe he’ll be more relaxed when the babies get it done and are off to start their new lives with men of their own to take care of them instead of their big brother. It’s infringing on my future Lucas time.
“Yeah.” I hear the sheets rustle when he gets out of bed. “Yeah, sure.”
I wonder what he looks like in a suit. Does one even wear a suit to a wedding that’s being held in a barn? Wait a minute…
“So…it’s a wedding,” I preface as he joins me at the table and we uncover the cake servings. “Do you have a plus one?”
Scoffing, he picks up his fork. “No. I have too much shit to do to have a plus one,” he grumps.
I try to ignore the sound he makes when he closes his mouth around a bite. As a shudder sweeps through me, so does a sense of relief. I shouldn’t be jealous if he did, in fact, have a plus one. The event was planned back before our fake-boyfriend days. He should have one if his ex is going to be there with his ex-best friend. Dignity and all. Kudos to him for being a confident single-looking badass, though.
I mean, I’d go…if he asked. But he didn’t, so…whatever. I get it.
Maybe that would be weird. Him having to explain it to the babies and all on their big day. Would they be cool with him being with a guy? I want to ask, but don’t want to ruin the evening.
Holy shit, I think my brain is on a fast track to upgrading from the‘getting-along’zone to the dating zone. Staring at my cake, I have the urge to laugh out loud. I think I’m all right with that. In fact, I think I’m eager to storm that track with a damn monster truck as I glance at the sated-looking man with sex-tousled hair across from me.
CHAPTER 26
Lucas
Watching my brothers-in-law stumble into their house after Tyler finished puking next to his mailbox, I realize that going to the bachelor party probably wasn’t the best idea. Their slurred apologies as I drove them home, about the evident tension in the air between Mark and me, were an unnecessary mark of humiliation that I was trying not to acknowledge even existed. I thought everything was fine, and that it was just me being paranoid, but apparently, even drunk, the future grooms picked up on the same avoidance from Mark that I did. The last thing I wanted to do was make Ty and Ricky uncomfortable at their own bachelor party.
If you’d asked me if I’d have ever thought in a million years that Mark’s cousin, Paul, would be there, I’d have answered swiftly in the negative. All the years we were friends, he couldn’t stand the guy and bitched about him whenever he had to see him. Watching them bust up like two peas in a pod all night was surreal, to say the least. I made an effort to say hello, but it was apparent I was like an awkward guest someone feels obliged to be cordial to. After a ‘friendly’ nod, the pregnant pause made that clear. Neither made an effort to speak to me, or even glance my way, for the entire evening.
When the boys were in close proximity, they lit up with jokes and conversation, yet it was as if I were invisible. I was finechalking it up to two people I don’t care to associate with and leaving it be at that. Hearing that the boys picked up on it, however, was a thorn I didn’t need twisted into my side. I don’t want their pity. I’d have to care about the slight to need it. It just chaps my ass that if Mark is harboring some resentment toward me, he could have the decency to at least fake our truce for the boys’ sake for one evening. Julia and Ty have known each other since they were kids. They should be allowed to be in love without drama between their brothers. Mark better not have set a precedent for the wedding. I’ll never hear the end of it from the girls if they’re watching me like a hawk to see if my feelings are hurt. Do they think I’m that fragile?
When I pull into my driveway, I breathe out a sigh of relief and grab my phone off the center console. The big wraparound porch with its swing looks serene under the bright moonlight. It’s much too large a house for just me. I know that, but I take pride in knowing that it’s mine, considering the meager beginnings I came from. Or at least it will be someday, whenever I get the loan paid off. I’ve sometimes wondered if Shannon’s cold feet started when I bought it. It doesn’t matter now, though. I’m stuck with it and decided that being proud is better than feeling stuck with something. Sometimes, pride isn’t a bad thing.
Making my way inside, I head straight for the bedroom, my footsteps echoing across the hardwood floors down the hallway. Flipping on my bedroom light, I’m grateful for the sight of my mattress, eager to fall onto it after the night’s events. If only… The temptation is just par for the course tonight.
I have damage control to do, thanks to a frantic call from Jolissa earlier, informing me that the band we hired for the wedding just canceled. I am going to be up, scouring the internet for last-minute replacements I can call when the sun comes up tomorrow.
The toe of my boot bumps into the box of rice baggies I made up for the girls, making me chuckle. Steel-toe is my first thought, seeing the dent I left in the cardboard box and remembering how Andrew looked that day in the Northern Territory.
It’s strange how my time with him on that trip almost feels like a vivid dream rather than a reality I just lived. The last two days since we got home have been non-stop chaos with wedding prep, giving me very little time to process where I stand with him.
He gave me a hug at the airport when we were about to go our separate ways and murmured close to my ear, “Don’t miss me too much.”
I watched him grin and turn away, wondering what it meant, especially after his confusing post-sex behavior that night in Darwin. Why did he ask if I have a plus one for the wedding? Was that his way of telling me not to get attached?
Why did I ask him what we were doing?
I don’t have time to dwell on his vague response of, ‘Getting along.’
Except I can’t help it. Was that supposed to be a clear message? Is that all it is—getting along? Because…I kind of thought it felt like more. Or hoped so, anyway. By the time I made it home from the airport, I’d let reality sink in enough that I felt like I’d been kicked by a mule.
But then, he texted me yesterday. I half-expected him to go radio silent. The way my stomach leapt into my throat and my breath caught just from seeing his name is probably something I should work on controlling after the wedding is over until I know what in the hell we’re doing.
Everything in my suitcase smells like you,he wrote. Maybe it was more than sex for him if he took the trouble to send that. Except, I started wondering if it was a complaint rather than his new playful teasing.
Then it’s an improvement,I had written back, figuring that was a safe reply.
