Bad Boy's Bridesmaid: A Secret Baby Romance (14 page)

“And I want to
see
real
flapping!”

Mandy got as far
as the second clap before running from the room, citing a bathroom break.
Lindsey groaned, nearly tossing her into the fireplace when she returned.


Flap
,
Mandy, before I peck you myself!”

Mandy weakly fluttered
her elbows and bobbed. The girls cackled.

I had no idea I
could be so entertained by a girl if I wasn’t fucking her.

Sure, I had a
girl naked, writhing, coming at my command all last night, but I’d never spent
time with any afterwards. Usually it was me, Sportscenter, and a dry bowl of
cereal.

This
? The awkward
flapping, off-beat clapping, and hilariously overcompensated booty shake? This
was
fantastic
.

I could get used
to hanging with Mandy like this.

But she
didn’t see the
fun in it. Mandy refused to look me in the eyes, like I’d think she was any
less beautiful because she couldn’t figure out her right from her left. She was
sexy in her own way. She might have been a danger to herself and others on the
dance floor, but when I had held her in my arms and led her through the music
during the string quartet auditions, she had melted. Surrendered.

Would have done
anything for me.

I shifted. This
was the single most uncomfortable hard-on I ever had, and the most dangerous.
The last thing I wanted was a boner surrounded by a room full of banshees,
bitches, bimbos, and Mandy. Six out of the seven I had slept with. Great.

I hoped Lindsey
would take pity on us all. I just needed ten minutes with Mandy. Thirty and I’d
go twice. That little Funky Chicken had been up all night for me, and she’d
love it.

We weren’t that
lucky.

Two hours and
four bathroom breaks later, a butchered rendition of
Single Ladies
made
it abundantly clear why no one had put a ring on the girls yet. Lindsey flipped
shit.

“For Christ’s
sake, Mandy, where in my choreography does it say to stop and
scratch
your
leg?”

Mandy was one
pirouette from a nervous breakdown. She didn’t stop scratching. “Linds, I’m
sorry!  I can’t whip or
nae nae
anymore!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I have no idea!
I’m so
itchy!

I looked down. I’d
already scratched my arm raw.

Well fuck.

I hid my rash. Lindsey
grabbed Mandy’s ankle and twisted. Mandy latched onto her sister, and they both
went down in a thump.

“Is this…”
Lindsey screeched and yanked Mandy’s leg. “Did you get
poison ivy
?”

Mandy’s eyes
darted to me. Oh, she wasn’t happy. This would probably be my fault.

The detour into
the woods on the way back to the cabin seemed a good and necessary idea at the
time. The tree
had
felt softer than most, covered in the spanning ivy. And
Mandy had the time of her life, legs wrapped around my waist as we fucked
against the tree in the greatest quickie I ever had.

Christ, that’s
what I got for trying to be romantic.

Poisoned
.

“For the love of
God, are you
that
outdoor-phobic?” Lindsey snapped her fingers at
Carmen. “Get the first-aid kit.”

“I’m fine.”
Mandy kept scratching, yelping as she found another spreading rash on her
shoulders.

Lindsey peeked
in Mandy’s shirt to check over her back. “Holy shit, did you
roll
around
in it?”

No…but she was
pushed into it. Repeatedly. For a couple of minutes.

Maybe this was
why guys never stuck around after getting what they wanted. The longer I
stayed, the more likely I was to toss Mandy into poisonous shrubs.

Still, if a little
poison ivy was the worst thing to come from sex with her, I’d take it.

“Stay
away
from me!” Lindsey shrieked. “And stop scratching!”

“Sorry.”  Mandy
sat on her hands so she wouldn’t scratch. “Oh, it’s itchy. Really, really
itchy.”

Carmen returned
with the first-aid kit, but she handed an empty tube of calamine lotion to
Lindsey with a shrug.

“I think we used
this instead of the antibiotic on your scrapes last night,” she said.

Mandy groaned.
She rushed to the entryway of the living room and wiggled against the wooden frame.
I shouldn’t have laughed. That wouldn’t get me laid again anytime soon,
vengeful plants or not.

“Fine. We’ll
take five while we find something to slather on my sister.” Lindsey shook her
head. “I can’t believe you’d do this when you
know
how much practice you
need for this dance.”

Mandy snapped at
her, getting crankier by the minute. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I infect myself
with poison, I’ll burn the rash off so I don’t scratch in the middle of
Hotline
Bling
!”

“If I see
one
scar on your shoulders in the strapless dress, so help me God.” Lindsey pushed
her sister towards the bathroom. She grabbed a towel on the way up. “Don’t
think I won’t roll your ass in mud or oatmeal. Maybe both, just because you’re always
such a
pain
.”

Mandy stormed up
the stairs. “Butt-head.”

Lindsey fumed. “
Lint-licker
!”

The bathroom
door slammed shut. The bridesmaids surrounded me. It wasn’t good to limp around
a pack of these lionesses.

Carmen winked.
“There’s something in this kit for everyone, huh, Nate?”

She waved a
condom at me. Fucking fantastic.

The thought
struck me like another slap with the poison ivy.

A
condom
.

I hadn’t used a
condom last night? I’d completely forgot. Then again, Mandy didn’t say
anything. She was probably on the pill.

Shit. I’d have
to ask her.

Except Mandy was
so goddamned responsible, she’d even packed a second first-aid kit in her own
toiletries. No way she’d forget something as important as birth control.

The girls clustered
around me. They abandoned the Bloody Marys for margaritas and drunkenly giggled.
A game of rock-paper-scissors passed between the five of them. Carmen came out
victorious.

The condom returned
to her possession.

“Looks like I’m
the lucky one.” She tucked it into the back pocket of my jeans. Her hand stayed
a little too long. “How about we make the most of this weekend?”

Oh Christ. “You should
sober up. We made a lot of mistakes when we were drunk before.”

She slurped the
rest of her drink. The salt from her glass stuck to her chin. “Oh, I don’t
think it was a mistake.”

“Me either,” Amy
said.

Red head winked.
“Me either.”

Peaches giggled.
“Me three. No, me four!” Her laugh rang over the house as Caitlyn purred at me.
“Nate, you’ve practically slept with the whole bridal party!”

Carmen snorted.
“Of course he did. He told Rick and Bryce he’d finish us all off before the
reception. Good luck with Mandy though. I heard she hates you.”

I wished she
hadn’t said that so loud.

Mandy hadn’t
hated me yesterday.

But she did now.

She stood in the
doorway, arms crossed. Intimidation wasn’t her strong-suit, especially as she
squirmed against the itchiness. But she didn’t have to threaten me.

Her eyes welled
with tears.

And I knew I
fucked up.

“You slept with
everyone
?”
Mandy whispered. “Are you that…sleezy?”

“Oh, come on.”
Carmen laughed. “He’s a manwhore. We reap what we sow with him. He had his fun,
we had ours.” She winked. “You oughta give him a run, Mandy. He might loosen
you up.”

No. I wouldn’t. Mandy
gritted her teeth.

“How…” Her
breathing quivered. “I think you should go.”

“Mandy—”


Now
,
Nate.”

Son of a bitch.
The girls groaned. I ignored them. Mandy ducked out of the living room, but she
pushed me away before I could get too close. She led me to the door.

I couldn’t leave
it like this.

“I guess you’ve
had us all now,” she said. “Unless you’re aiming to sleep with the
bride
,
it’s time for you to go.”

“It’s not like
that,” I said. Damn it. “It was a one-time thing with all of them. You know.
That’s why
you
wanted me in the first place. Just some fun.”

“Yeah. I should
have known better. This isn’t
fun
.”

“I’m sorry. Let
me explain.”

“I really can’t
deal with it right now.” She couldn’t look at me, and I had no idea what I had
lost until I missed the honey-amber of her eyes. “I thought what we had was
special.”

“It
was
.”

“Please, go.”

A couple tears
rolled over her cheeks. I made her
cry
?

How the hell did
I make her cry?

“Mandy, if I
knew sleeping with those girls would have made you feel like this—”

“You have no
idea how I feel about this, about us, about you—” She pushed me to the door.
The rest of her words dissolved into a choked sob.

I hated to see
her upset, but, at that moment, she just hated to see me.

The front door
slammed in my face. I didn’t care.

Her words echoed
in my mind. I had no idea how she felt about us…about me?

Holy shit.

I nearly tumbled
off the porch.

Did Mandy have
feelings for me?

Chapter Eleven – Mandy

 

“Honestly, the
dress doesn’t even look like it was
made
for you!”

For the first
time since the wedding planning began, I shared Lindsey’s dismay.

Nothing about
the hideously teal bridesmaid gown fit me. The bustles had no lift, the bows no
liveliness, and the strapless cups…

Well, I made
short work of them.

The last thing I
needed was anyone staring too intently at my body, but it was
way
too
early for any real changes right?

I looked down. My
breasts were trying to suffocate me, but everything else seemed halfway normal.
I thought.
Maybe
?

I hadn’t looked
in the mirror yet, waiting for the moment Lindsey or Mom or one of the
bridesmaids called out some sort of un-hideable baby bump. If it happened, I
couldn’t even blame a big lunch. It’d been hell to just sip soup. Nothing
stayed down except copious amounts of oranges, and that was risky because citric
acid did not make for a pleasant return experience.

I pinched my
eyes shut. The hot lights of the bridal boutique shined like an interrogation.

This was it. The
jig was up. My bun was in the oven, and they turned on the heat.

“When did you
lose
weight?” Lindsey plucked at the bunched material over my waist. “No…when did it
all go to your
tits
?”

Mom frowned,
rubbing her chin. “It must be the lighting. Mandy isn’t that small.”

Thanks, Mom.

But the
measurements confirmed it. I was different from the first fitting. I
lost
weight.

Well, that was a
relief. Or was it? The doctor did warn that it wasn’t uncommon for women to
lose weight in early pregnancy because of the morning sickness, especially if
they happened to be a little curvier. And I couldn’t really eat much but fruit
and crackers.

Okay. Another
freebie. I breathed a quick sigh.

“Who measured
her the first time?” Lindsey whirled around to berate the terrified seamstress
and owner of the boutique. “We’re lucky the hem isn’t dragging on the floor
too!”

“Well, we were
all supposed to go on a diet,” I said.

“Yeah, which
some
people have forgotten to do!” Lindsey pointed at her other teal and miserable
bridesmaids. “I made the spreadsheet, why aren’t you guys logging your weight?
We’re supposed to be doing this
together
.”

I heard the edge
of real panic in my sister’s voice. That stress peaked when the zipper to her
dress needed a bit of encouragement to climb past her booty. We got it zipped,
but Lindsey immediately peeled it off and threw away half of the candy bar she
was nervously eating.

My sister pushed
me to the dressing room. She waited outside, lowering her voice so those beyond
the fitting areas couldn’t hear.

“Mandy, I know
you’ve been trying hard,” she said.

I braced for it.
What was it this time? Maybe she thought I was deliberately causing her
problems. Maybe I wasn’t pulling my weight, or I hadn’t asked Dad to fork over
another two grand for gold dust in the champagne.

“I wanted you to
know…” Lindsey exhaled. “I really appreciate it.”

Wow
!

I didn’t know
what to say. “Oh. Well. I’m only trying to help.”

“Look, Mom gives
you shit because you’re curvy, but you don’t have to go to any extremes. You’re
beautiful just as you are.”

I waited for the
hammer to drop and crack through the insults. Lindsey said nothing else.

My eyes welled with
tears—overwhelmed and suffering from the damn hormones that had me weepy
because of songs on the radio, advertisements with puppies, and, of course, a
week of avoiding Nate.

“Thanks,” I
said.

“And I know I’ve
been a little…crazy.” She cleared her throat. “But I’m still your big sister.
Do you want to tell me why you’ve been so quiet lately?”

“Qu-quiet?”

“You haven’t
been yourself since last weekend at the cabin. If it’s the dance routine,
honestly, you’re only bad because…well, there’s a couple reasons. Mainly, you
have no rhythm, but we can fake that with alcohol at the wedding. But you also
care too much about what people think.” She hesitated. “What happened with you
and Nate?”

Oh, no no no. I
wasn’t answering that.

“Nothing
happened with me and Nate.”

“Then why did he
have poison ivy too?”

I only wished
the rash had spread over the troublemaker between his legs.

I was super
fortunate mine had stopped above my tailbone. I couldn’t
imagine
the
talk with my OBGYN. I was already confused enough about the pregnancy, but I
was pretty sure I couldn’t split a tube of calamine lotion with the baby if I
had gotten poison ivy in my womb.

“I get it,
Mandy,” she said.

I wasn’t falling
for it this time. “Get what?”

“You were trying
to make up with Nate.”

No, I had been
trying to make
out
with Nate, and, per my usual, we went too far.

“You’re right. We
took a walk and tried to…bang everything out.”

“Did it work?”

I cleared my
throat. “Well, we had a couple really good moments.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…” No sense
lying. “I lost count after five.”

Lindsey’s smile
warmed her words. “That’s great.”

“But I don’t
think there’s any changing Nate.”

I tugged on my
clothes and slipped from the dressing room. Lindsey took my dress and nodded.

“The important thing
is that you’re trying to be friends for me,” she said.

The guilt coiled
up nicely next to the baby. I should have been helping my sister more with her
wedding, but Nate and the baby were the only problems on my mind.

And I had no
idea what to do with him now that he’d rolled the entire bridal party in bed.

I expected it. I
knew
the type of man he was.

So why was he
still chasing me? I couldn’t trust his intentions, not with my heart and
definitely not with a baby on the way.

Lindsey hurried
to the other bridesmaids, just in time to cover her eyes as Mom finally
squeezed into her outfit.

Mom marched to
the mirror in a designer, form-fitting, completely inappropriate halter dress.
The dress was too much bust, not nearly enough over the booty, and came in
fire-engine red. Somehow her sweater puppies matured into sweater dogs, and if
she didn’t let them breathe, the entire boutique was gonna blow.

“Mom…” Lindsey’s
eyes widened. “You can’t wear that.”

“And why not?”

“Because your
gazongas are gigunda.
Who
are you trying to impress at
my
wedding?”

Mom spun in
front of the mirror. She plucked at the material and inched it higher up her leg.

Why my mother
felt the need to wear thigh-high hose, I’d never understand, but at least it
wasn’t as bad as the fishnets when we met with the caterers.

“Your father is
no longer buying my dress for the wedding.” Mom ran her hand over her waist.
Whatever corset she wore buckled but hadn’t broken. “And I want to feel
beautiful.”

“Know what’s
beautiful?” Lindsey stomped her feet. “
Layers
!”

“What’s wrong
with this?”

I bit my lip. “Well,
I can see the dimples on your cheeks.”

“I don’t have
dimples.”

“Not on your
face
,
Mom.”

Mom got
flustered. “Mandy, if you had it your way, I’d be going to the wedding in a
parka. You’ll have to accept that your mother is a sexual being—”

The bridesmaids
shuddered.

“—who wants to
look good at her daughter’s wedding. And if the world sees me as sexy, I’ll
give it a little show.”

Lindsey sighed.
“Please don’t do a show, Mom.”

“I’ve already
been asked.”

“By
who
?”

Mom smiled. “It
was supposed to be a surprise. But I’m going to sing
Natural Woman
at
your party with the band, and I need to look the part.”

Lindsey stared
at me like I agreed to play piano for her.

“Fix this,” she
growled. “Now.”

I thought
morning sickness made me uncomfortable. I was wrong.

This
. This was
uncomfortable.

“Mom, I think
Lindsey wanted to hire a
professional
to sing,” I said.

“One song,
baby.” Mom patted Lindsey’s cheek. “You know what it’s like to be desired—Bryce
loves you. And I’m hot on the market.” She glanced at me. “Maybe you’ll
understand one day, Mandy. Once your hair grows out. And you lose a little more
weight. And maybe we can do something about your nose…”

And I was done.

If they only
knew
.
I
was
desirable. Hell, Nate couldn’t
stop
touching me.

It just so
happened he’d already touched everyone else too.

I stormed out of
the boutique, cell in hand. I had no idea if it was right to be flattered by
Nate’s constant chasing, or if it meant I didn’t give in as easily as the other
girls.

All
the other
girls.

And nothing was
wrong with my nose!

This was getting
overwhelming. I needed some sort of insight about Nate. I knew the person I had
to call, but Rick wasn’t going to like these questions.

I paced outside
for a minute before building the courage to call him. Rick answered with a
groggy profanity.

“Rise and shine,”
I said.

Another
profanity. “Is anyone bleeding?”

“Nope.”

“Heart attack?”

“Nope.”

“It’s my day off.”
Rick grumbled. “Call back
never
.”

“I gotta talk to
you.”

I permitted him
a minute to complain, but Rick wouldn’t hang up on me. Once the telltale sputtering
of his coffee pot hissed over the line, I knew I had him.

“Lindsey driving
you crazy?” He yawned.

I took a breath.
Now or never. “Not Lindsey.”

“Your mom?”

“Well, yeah. Pretty
sure we’ll need the Jaws of Life to get her out of the dress she chose,
but…it’s not her.”

“Uh-oh. What
happened?”

Why was it so
hard to say? My throat closed. I’d make it easy. Just start with the basics.

“I, uh…it’s
Nate.”

Rick groaned. “
Please
tell me you didn’t sleep with him.”

I quieted. He
knew exactly what that meant.

“No! Mandy, why
in God’s name would you
sleep
with Nate?”

Good question. I
had no idea how to explain
it.

“It
was…something that happened.” And it happened more times than I could count
thanks to the cabin and that night of mistaken pleasure. “I was lonely. And the
wedding was getting nuts. And my parents were stressing me out. I needed
something to take my mind off of it all.”

“Jesus, Mandy.
Take a walk. A cold shower. Anything but
Nate
.”

“I know.”


Especially
since he’s slept with
all
the bridesmaids now. Christ, this wedding
served him all the fresh meat he could want.”

“As I learned.”
I sighed and stopped my pacing. At least the sun felt nice—warm…non-judgmental.
“It’s just…I thought there might have been…”

“What?”

A spark?
“Something else there.”

“Don’t.” Rick
took on his older brother tone. “Don’t look for anything
more
with Nate.
I know the guy. It was a one-night stand.”

“Except it
wasn’t.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t…a
one-off fuck.”

“Did you just
use the word
fuck
?”

“Listen to me.
It was more than once. And he’s been…pursuing me. Calling me, texting me. He
wants to talk. He even
apologized
for the other girls before me.”

“Nate.”

“Yes.”

“Nate
Kensington
?”

“Yes,
smart-ass.” I plunked down on the bench outside the boutique. “You’re his
friend. What’s he doing? What am
I
supposed to do?”

“I don’t have
the answers for you, but I know what
I
have to do.”

I was afraid to
ask. “What?”

“Kick his
fucking ass.”

“That’s not why
I called you—”

“He knows better
than to confuse you like this. You’re too damn inexperienced for him.”

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