Page 72 of One Night Bride
Amelia snickered, and even Izzy smiled at that. Remington nuzzled my neck, and I calculated how much longer I had to stay as part of the wedding party. I was a newlywed too, and I had needs.
Vee sighed dreamily, watching as Ashley cut the cake and smashed a piece into her groom’s face. “I love weddings.”
“You’re too young,” Mom piped up instantly.
Vee snorted. “Jeez, Mom, I wasn’t saying I wanted to be the bride, I just said I loved weddings.”
“Mm-hmm. You forget I know you and your impulsive ways. Go live your life first and then settle down when you’re ready.”
“Listen to your mother,” Dad added for good measure. “When you’re ready to get married, I’ll buy you whatever dress you want.”
Vee squealed. “Thanks, Daddy.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
The rest of us girls rolled our eyes. Vee was quite clearly the baby. Spoiled, an attention whore, and as rebellious as Amelia. It was a deadly combination, which I was surprised hadn’t landed her in jail yet.
Wyatt and Oakley strolled over, hand in hand. It was rare they both got the same day off, but somehow they’d made married life work. And from the constant circles of pink on Oakley’s cheeks, their marriage was a happy one.
“I’ve got news,” Oakley led with, always one to get right to the point.
Dad grunted.
Mom squealed an awful lot like Vee. “Another grandbaby on the way?”
Oakley frowned. “No, Mom. Jeez. We just got married.”
Mom deflated. “Well, shoot. Carry on.”
Wyatt put his hands on Oakley’s shoulders, pride showing in the way his eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled. “Oakley Smith is officially being groomed to be sheriff one day.”
Izzy gasped softly. Amelia gave her sister a thumbs-up. Remington and I leaned over to give her a hug. Titus clapped Wyatt on the back like he’d had something to do with the good news. It was a brother-in-law thing, I guessed.
Dad, of course, had questions. “What’s that mean? Is Locke retiring?”
“Not yet, but he said in about five years or so. He wants me out in front of the public the next few years so when it comes time for voting, I’ll be a shoo-in.”
“Oh, honey, that’s great,” Mom said, giving her a hug. “So does that mean you’ll want to have kids before you become sheriff?”
Wyatt lifted an eyebrow with a twinkle in his eyes. “Working on it, Susie.”
Amelia snorted. Remington bumped fists with Wyatt, and I truly wondered at the maturity level of the men we Waldo sisters were marrying. We’d grown up with the perfect example of marital bliss with our parents about to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary. And yet somehow we’d all had missteps when it came to finding true love. Although Vee and Izzy weren’t paired up yet. There was still time for at least one of us Waldo sisters to get things right without all the drama along the way.
Vee
My phone buzzed in my pocket. While everyone was busy harassing Oakley and Wyatt on when they’d pop out some babies, I snuck outside the ring of my family members and checked it. A current of electricity lit my veins when I saw the name on the screen. I’d added him to my contacts as simply “Prof.”
I wasn’t necessarily proud of my association with a married man—soon to be divorced, don’t freak out on me—but I did enjoy the way he’d look at me through those black-rimmed glasses when I raised my hand in class. My last semester at college was almost over and his divorce would be final. Then I’d be free to see him any time I wanted. There was just something about a forbidden romance in its beginning stages that made me feel alive.
My sisters were all pairing off and getting married. All I wanted was an experienced man to bend me over his desk and have his way with me. No ring exchange required. Unfortunately, none of the boys at my university were up to the task. Believe me, I’d tried them out to see. All they cared about was the next frat party and spending daddy’s money on a sweet ride they’d just end up crashing. Nah, I was a smart girl. I went for the older men.
Prof:Where are you?
Me:Back home at that wedding I told you about. Miss me?
Prof:Got an application here for you to fill out to be my TA next semester.
I pouted, though he couldn’t see me.
Me:I don’t want to be your TA.
