Page 80 of Contingently Yours
I don’t see any sign of Lucas and wonder worriedly if I’ve just pulled a Mrs. Robinson. Except, there are clearly two brides at the head table. Two identical-looking brides, with the exception of their dress styles. One is giving a speech about a man who has played an important role in her and her sister’s lives. I follow her gaze and find him seated at a large round table in the front next to an older woman who shares his dark hair. Damn, he looks good. His beige suit fits snugly on his thick biceps and thighs. His beard is freshly trimmed, along with his hair. The light blue tie around his neck lends a tone of innocence that fits his nature.And the humbled and heartfelt look in his eyes nearly brings a tear to my own.
Also, holy fuck, I’m going to kill Bob on my way out of town. I asked him to find me clothes to fit in with a country wedding in Bolton, not look like a fucking rodeo rider. Shit!
One of the baby sisters announces that they’re going to cut and serve the cake now, so I make a break for it before I’m noticed. Slinking through the shadows, I head toward a small gaggle of people at the bar to hide. On my way there, I notice a setup in the far right corner. A band setup. What in the ever-loving hell? It’s a full drum kit, a bass, a lead guitar, and a keyboard. Did he find a band after all? Only Lucas.
So much for saving the day. Fucking Terry.
Okay, fine. He’s not to blame, but fuck! Can’t a guy win at anything?
Now I look like a fringe-wearing ass,andI didn’t do a damn thing to stop the dumpster fire. How in the hell am I supposed to explain what I’m doing here?
Taking a calming breath, I whisper my drink order to the bartender, hoping it will help calm my nerves. Think, Andrew. Think.
Maybe the band will suck, as most wedding bands do. I could be on standby and still save the day if necessary, and then Lucas will see that I not only have worth to bring to the table but that I’m not here for a piece of ass. Who in the hell subjects themselves to wedding reception song requests just to get laid? Again, though, I won’t object to a good snuggle if he’s up for it later on. Fingers crossed.
“Thanks, man,” I tell the bartender, tipping him and trying to slip my wallet back into the tight-ass black cowboy jeans.
“Tell me that isnotthe entertainment,” I hear a woman say conspiratorially off to my right.
A man snickers. “Just think. This could have been your wedding if you’d stuck it out with Lucas.”
When their joint laughter follows, I slowly turn my head and locate them a few feet down the bar. A tall, slender man with dark hair, his arms around a curvy redhead, catches my eye in his mirth, but then looks away casually. I’d bet a granola bar that’s ex and ex.
When I hear chatter behind me, I forget about the two douchesicles to my right momentarily to move over for more wedding guests. Except when I turn, I find a familiar face.
“Mason?”
“Hey! Drew!” He reaches for my hand, and it takes me a second to offer mine in return. Tugging me forward, he pulls me in for a hug and claps me on the back. “Hope I’m not too late.”
“What…what are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it.”
“Didn’t Lucas tell you? The network said they could send their reporter to do the interview on the road with us, so we did it on the drive down. We sent the crew ahead to set up,” he says, gesturing over my shoulder to the meager setup. “Nothing fancy like our shows, but we didn’t want to steal the wedding thunder, you know?”
Oh, my God. It worked? My lifeline worked? And Lucas knows about it?
Shit. I guess I never told Mason that it was a secret. He thinks we’re a couple. Why would he think we keep secrets like that from each other?
“Shit, man. That’s…that’s great.” I laugh. “That’s fantastic. Thank you.”
“No problem. We were able to work it out, so we did.” Squinting at my gear, he nods. “What’s with the keyboard? You going to join us?” he asks hopefully.
“Ah, no. No way. It was just a backup plan.”
Grinning, he slaps me on the shoulder, and I realize that the rest of his band is standing behind him, peering out over the wedding guests. Jesus, I just met Renegade. “Lucas is a lucky man. If you change your mind, just come on up. We’ll go get set up. I think they’re about finished with the gestures now.”
He nods toward the bridal table, where the babies and their husbands are wiping cake off their faces. When his bandmates file past me with hellos, I just stand there, stupefied.
“Nice look, by the way,” he adds, flicking my cowboy hat before he joins them. “You’ll have to tell me where to get one of those before I leave.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
I catch a hit of perfume and feel the back of a hand rap me on the arm. I find Shannon, I presume, at my side, Mark on her arm. “Was that Renegade? Like…theRenegade?” she whispers, eyes wide.
I can’t believe this woman ever got to put her hands on my man. Glancing across the room, I see him about to take a seat with a plate of cake. His gaze catches mine, and he freezes. His brow furrows and his mouth parts, gracing me with a view of his sexy, confused face.
Unslinging my gear from my shoulder, I swallow against the dryness in my throat and thrust my shit at Mark. I’m fairly certain I bashed one of them in the shin with the amp, judging by the‘ouch’sound I hear.
“Yeah,” I concur. Glancing at him, I hang the strap on his shoulder. “Keep an eye on these for me, will you?” He accepts them dumbly, although both his and his girlfriend’s faces say they don’t understand why I’m asking. Straightening my hat, I tip the brim the way they do in the movies. “I need to go win over the guy you two jerks threw away.”
