Page 2 of Henri (Confessions 5)

“XANDER… XANDER? AS much as I’ve enjoyed this little advice session of yours,” Craig Bailey said into his phone, as he pulled his ’69 Camaro into an open spot along the curb of the Bianchis’ lake house, “I’m here now and I’ve got to go.”

Xander, his best friend—and ex-boyfriend—let out an irritated sound that could’ve been born of frustration or defeat. Either way, Bailey didn’t much care.

“Will you at least think about what I said?”

Bailey rubbed a hand over his face and prayed for patience. “About hooking up with a stranger? No. That’s not my thing and you know it. I like—”

“Long walks on the beach and reading by a fire. I know. But—”

“Substance. I like substance. You should be flattered. I used to think you had some.”

“Used to? Thanks.”

“I still do. But just because I’m not sleeping with someone new each night doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with me.”

“I didn’t say there was. But when was the last time you got laid?”

Bailey opened his mouth, ready to give his pushy friend an answer, but when nothing came out, Xander chuckled.

“See? You don’t even know. That should tell you something, Bay. You’re too young and too hot to live like a monk—”

“I don’t live like a monk.” Bailey wanted to bang his head against the steering wheel. Ever since word had gotten out that he was heading to a wedding this weekend stag, there’d been no stopping the unwanted “relationship” advice that had poured in from his brothers and Xander. He was about two seconds away from blocking all of them on his phone if they didn’t get off his ass.

“You work too hard,” Xander said.

“That’s rich coming from an admitted workaholic.”

“No. That’s the truth, coming from me. Like it always is. Plus, I know the last time I got laid. It was last night.”

Of course it was. As one of the nation’s most popular news anchors, Alexander Thorne never lacked for a bed partner when he wanted one. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind today. Look around, see who’s there. At a wedding for three guys, there’s bound to be somebody nice and single you could…celebrate with.”

“Jesus,” Bailey said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are we done here?”

“I suppose. But you sound a little frustrated.”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“Fine. But if you don’t find anyone up there, there’s this new copy editor who just started for me. He’s just your type. A good guy all round.”

“Thank you, Mr. Matchmaker. If you ever lose your job, I think you’ve got a really good shot at making a living by annoying the shit out of single people. Now, I really do need to go.”

“Fair enough. Dinner? Tomorrow night?”

“Uh, can I take a rain check? I’m exhausted, and after this I’m just going to want to sleep.”

“No problem. But let’s catch up when you’re free.”

“Sounds good.”

“And remember what I said.”

Bailey gnashed his teeth together as he hit end on the call, then he pulled down the visor in his car to look at himself in the mirror.

Eh, not too bad, all things considered. He rubbed a hand over his buzzcut and was thankful he didn’t have much to do in the hair department, then he flipped up the collar of his shirt and began to tie the thin strip of material that’d been hanging around his neck the entire drive to Oshkosh.

After switching out his schedule with one of the other patrol officers at his station, Bailey had been able to wrangle the entire weekend off. The price tag that’d come with it was only a handful of hours’ sleep in the last forty-eight, but luckily for him, it wasn’t showing just yet.

There were no bags under his eyes as of this morning, but by the end of the day, he had a feeling he’d be passing out in the bed back at the hotel. He just had to make it a few more hours.

With his tie in place, Bailey shoved open the door and climbed out, grabbing his suit jacket from the passenger seat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a wedding, but considering he’d played a minor part in Priest and Julien getting their princess to say yes, it only seemed right he was there today, which meant he needed to hurry the hell up.

As he made his way up the gravel drive, he saw a sign in the immaculately landscaped lawn that had an arrow pointing to the left: Wedding This Way.

Bailey glanced at his watch and grimaced. He was so damn late, and though he didn’t want to miss the ceremony, the last thing he wanted to do was sneak in midway and possibly cause a distraction.

As he hurried around the side of the house, his phone chimed and he grabbed it out of his pocket to see a photo of a handsome man in a sweater and a pair of chinos pop up on his screen.

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