The Wedding Agreement (25 page)

He wanted to disagree, to tell Cass' father he wasn't just
a
lucky man. He was
the
luckiest. He'd somehow gotten the girl of his dreams. And now that he had her, he planned to never let her go. But instead, he just nodded and answered, “I will” before turning back to Cass so he could make the same promise to her.

*   *   *

Surprisingly, Scott did a decent job with the ceremony, which had been short and sweet. Cass thought it was fitting, since their real engagement had been pretty much the same. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago they'd been miserable without each other. And now here they were, sipping champagne to the soft melody of Eric Church's “Like a Wrecking Ball.”
What a difference forty-eight hours can make.
“I still can't believe you got Cockfeather,” Cass said, smiling.

“Consider it your wedding gift.” Alex laughed and put an arm on Cass' back, rubbing his hand lightly across the sheer fabric. “And they
are
pretty good,” Alex admitted. “They even dressed up for the occasion,” he said, referring to the matching tuxedo T-shirts they were sporting. Even Slim—whose real name, Alex found out, was Slimberly—was wearing a halter top that looked like a fitted suit jacket with nothing underneath.

The guests seemed to be enjoying their meals, tapping their silverware on their glasses every now and then so Cass and Alex would kiss. It should have been annoying. But seeing Alex dressed in his tailored suit and no vest made her want to keep her lips on him permanently.

Gradually the plates were cleared and it came time for their first dance. Cass leaned against Alex's chest as Cockfeather began to play “My Wish” by
Rascal Flatts. The two swayed slowly to the rhythm, feeling each other's hearts beat as they danced. Cass lifted her head to look into Alex's eyes, and then the two stretched out their arms, signaling to Nina that it was time for her to join them. And just like that, two became three—or maybe it had been that way from the beginning—and the three of them moved to a beat that was all their own.

They wouldn't want it any other
way.

We're going to make this simple this time.

Sarah Younger, thank you for always believing in us and helping steer our sometimes off-course ship toward its destination. And thanks for still loving us even though sometimes we bother you incessantly.

To everyone at Penguin, we appreciate all of your hard work throughout this entire journey. Thank you for getting this book to what it is today.

Amanda, thanks for being a sounding board when we were struggling with plot issues.

To all our padded roommates, thanks for participating in the craziness and for sticking by us.

To our families, thank you all for being unconditionally supportive of us and our insane hobby. Sometimes we really don't deserve you.

Love,
E and H

Temporary Insanity

“If one more douche bag gets handsy with me tonight, I'm going to go ‘Kung Fu Fighting' on his ass,” Lauren yelled over the blaring techno and raucous crowd.

“Tell me about it,” Simone agreed. “I haven't been groped this unappealingly since I was in the back of Todd Grady's car in eleventh grade.”

“Doesn't he go by ‘Tina' now?” Cassidy asked.

Simone widened her eyes and slowly nodded her head. The girls instantly broke out in hysterics.

Lauren relished these nights with her girlfriends—casually drinking in Mickey's Bar and Grill and flouncing around the dance floor like deranged
Riverdance
rejects. The four of them—Lauren, Simone, Cassidy, and Quinn—had been the Fantastic Foursome since middle school, though Lauren had known Quinn since kindergarten, when she'd dragged Quinn out of the lunch line so they could go outside for recess early. They'd been friends ever since.

Lauren took a sip from her glass and tasted diluted Malibu. “I'm getting another drink. Maybe the alcohol will kill the STDs that are seeping out of these cretins. Anyone else need anything?” Her friends all shook their heads, causing Lauren to say “Lightweights” over her shoulder as she pushed her way toward the bar. With school starting in two weeks, Lauren intended to take full advantage of the last few days of summer before she'd have to buckle down and get into student mode.

Eight years ago, Lauren had thrown her small crew for a loop when she'd announced that she was going out of state for college. But that sojourn had only lasted two years before she'd returned to Virginia, taken some time off from school, and ultimately gotten her life back on track. Now, at twenty-six, she was about to finish her last year of graduate school at George Mason University and couldn't wait to join “adulthood”—a place her friends had entered years ago.

Once she arrived at the bar, she smoothed down her canary yellow halter top, which had ridden up as she pressed her way through the multitude of men. Lauren flagged down Sam, one of the bartenders she knew, and held up her glass to him. He gave her a swift nod and set about mixing her drink. Lauren and her friends had been coming to Mickey's since they were twenty-one. Her parents had known Mickey since they were kids, so she'd always felt comfortable there despite the influx of drunk, horny guys.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Lauren cringed as soon as she recognized the voice. She took a deep breath before turning around to face the man who had shamelessly been trying to get into her pants since tenth grade. “Hi, Josh,” she said, feigning a small smile. Lauren had always been
good at reading people. It was part of the reason she had changed her major from marketing to psychology when she enrolled at George Mason. And she knew
exactly
what kind of man Josh was, which is why she had no interest in being around him.

“Hey, beautiful. So how about it? Can I get you a drink?” Josh winked at her, which reminded her of her great-uncle Thomas, who had an odd tic that caused his eyelid to spasm constantly.

The image made her laugh abruptly, which earned her a curious look from Josh.
Great, now
I've
suddenly become the weird one
, she thought. It wasn't that Josh was unattractive: he was tall, well-built, and had a handsome face. No, the real problem was that his dick had been buried in more holes than a homeless dog's bone. And since he was an arrogant prick, those holes didn't always belong to Virginia's classiest bachelorettes. Lauren regarded him with the same wariness a child would a party clown: he was fun to laugh at, but the last thing you wanted was to find yourself alone in a room with him.

“Sorry. You just reminded me of something really funny.”

Josh smiled, thinking her words were a compliment. “Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“Uuuh.” Lauren dragged the word out, trying to think of the right way to phrase her response. “My uncle used to wink at me a lot. Well, not just me. It wasn't like some creepy thing where he'd wink at his young relatives. He had this spasm problem. Not that you looked like you were spasming. I just don't see a lot of people wink, so when you did it, that's what I thought of.” Lauren was rambling and from the bemused smirk on Josh's face, she could tell he thought he was flustering her. Which he was, but not for the
reason he thought. “Anyway, we have a tab running, so I'm all good on the drink. Thanks, though.” Lauren turned back toward the bar just as Sam set the Malibu and 7-Up in front of her.

“Anything else?” Sam asked, glancing quickly at Josh and then back to Lauren.

“You got an exit strategy back there anywhere?” Lauren asked quietly so Josh wouldn't overhear.

“I can pull the fire alarm,” Sam joked.

Lauren smiled widely. “I'll keep it in mind.”

Sam wiped the bar between them with a wet dish towel. “Well, I'm here if you need me,” he said before walking away to help another customer. Lauren smiled again. Sam had been best friends with her older brother, Cooper, and always looked out for Lauren when she was at Mickey's. He had become a sort of surrogate older brother over the years, even if it was only between the hours of ten p.m. and two a.m.

Lauren turned back around to face Josh, hoping to quickly give him the brush-off so she could return to her friends. But, not expecting him to be standing so close to her, she nearly collided with him. Her drink sloshed over the side of her glass and splashed onto Josh's gray T- shirt.

“Shit, sorry,” Lauren apologized as she reached toward the bar to grab some napkins, putting her drink down so she could help dry Josh's shirt.

“No worries. It'll dry. Though if you were feelin' like you needed to make it up to me, I'd accept a dance as payment.”

The thought of dancing with Josh made Lauren's stomach flip. She felt her lips turn down in disgust before she had time to stop them. She noticed his eyes narrow at her reaction and desperately tried to recover.
“I, uh, think I've done enough damage to you for one night. God only knows what would happen to you if you tried to dance with me.” She let out a small laugh that sounded as halfhearted as it was.

Josh leaned even closer, causing his torso to connect with Lauren's chest. She silently cursed her size B breasts. If they'd been larger, they would've kept Josh farther from her face. “I think I can handle myself,” he replied.

Lauren hoped that was true since she had
no
intention of handling any part of Josh. The very thought made her shiver in repulsion. Of course, Josh took the slight movement of her body as an invitation. He began leaning down toward her, eyes closed. Lauren suddenly understood why women in horror movies never ran until it was too late. It took her brain a while to accept that this nightmare was actually a reality. Just as his lips were about to connect with hers, she threw her hand up, causing him to kiss her palm.

His eyes jerked open. “What the hell was that?”

“Uh, my hand?” Lauren wasn't sure why it came out as a question, but it had.

“Yeah, I figured that much out.” Josh backed up a bit, heat radiating off of him. He was pissed. “You're a real fucking tease—you know that?”

Lauren's back straightened. If this douche bag wanted to start name-calling, then he'd found a willing adversary. “And you're a fucking misogynist. Since you're clearly an idiot, let me take the time to spell something out for you: I'm. Not. Interested. Now get the hell out of my way so that I can go back to people whose company I actually enjoy.” She sidestepped Josh quickly and began walking toward her friends, not even bothering to pick up her drink.

Josh stood stock-still for a moment, clearly stunned by Lauren's words. But that didn't last long. Lauren hadn't made it more than five steps before she felt a firm grip on her biceps and was pulled toward a small alcove off to the side of the bar. Once the destination had been reached, Josh spun her around and thrust her roughly against the wall. The impact caused her breath to leave her momentarily, but she recovered quickly.

“Don't you ever put your hands on me again!” Lauren yelled in Josh's face. If he thought she was going to back down, he was sorely mistaken. When it came to fight-or-flight situations, Lauren always fought. Her brother had taught her how to handle herself when she'd grown boobs, and she'd been ever thankful for it.

Josh pushed against her, putting his arms on the wall on either side of her head in an effort to use his size and proximity to intimidate her. And while the situation did cause fear to bubble within her, she'd never let it show.

“You're so sexy when you're mad,” Josh rasped into her ear.

“Josh, I'm giving you one last chance to back up before I seriously lose my shit.” Lauren's voice was strong and laced with a warning that she had every intention of following through with.

“Stop playing hard to get, baby. I know you want it. I can see how hard your nipples are through your shirt. And I bet if I touch that sweet pussy, I'll feel how wet it is for me. Maybe I should prove it to you.” Josh's hand quickly skated down the wall and landed on the button on Lauren's jeans. He fumbled for a couple seconds before all hell broke loose.

Lauren might have been more than a little tipsy, but that didn't make her more tolerant of Josh's
inappropriate behavior. It made her rail against it with a fervor she'd only felt a few times in her life. Reflexively, she brought her fist up in a lightning-fast move and connected with Josh's windpipe. He staggered back, gripping his throat, but Lauren wasn't done. She brought her heel down hard on the top of his flip- flop-clad foot, then brought her knee up to connect with his balls, causing Josh to double over with a pain that she was sure radiated through his body.

Lauren stepped closer to him, needing to make sure he knew that she wasn't scared of him. She'd just kicked his ass, and she'd do it again.
Anytime
. “Fuck with me again, and a broken dick and a sore throat will be the least of your
problems.”

A
BOUT THE
A
UTHOR

Elizabeth Hayley is the penname for “Elizabeth” and “Hayley,” two friends who have been self-publishing romance novels since 2013. They are best known for their Pieces series, including Perfectly Ever After, Picking Up the Pieces, and Pieces of Perfect, and their Strictly Business novels, including Just Say Yes and The Best Medicine. They both live with their husbands and young children in Pennsylvania.