“Not when I can hear your voice instead. How are you today, love? Any new favorite songs?” The sound of crunching comes through the phone and I suspect he’s received my special delivery just for him.
“Maybe. And I’m okay. I’m just still in shock over the engagement news.” I swallow the lump in my throat. Christ, cheer the fuck up, Dylan. This hot man has chosen you over all other women in line to play with. He chose you. “So, are you coming out to celebrate with us tonight? I have a few nicknames I’d like to throw at you once I get all kinds of tipsy.” The timer on the oven sounds and I walk over to it, clamping my phone between my ear and my shoulder to retrieve the cake.
He laughs softly and I can picture my favorite smile lines next to his eyes. “Yeah, but probably not till late. I have some stuff I need to take care of first.” He pauses and the sound of crunching fills the receiver again. “Should I be concerned you’re going to get shitfaced without me there? Because a part of me is concerned. Actually, isn’t there some rule that says you can’t get drunk without me?”
I laugh and poke the center of the cake with a knife, pulling it out clean. The idea of seeing him in a few short hours has blanketed all of my stupid girl concerns and I’m now my usual drunk on Reese self. I wouldn’t even need alcohol tonight. “First of all, I’m not going to get drunk. If I did, I would completely blow my chances of riding you later on because I would pass out.” I turn the oven off and grab a mixing bowl for the frosting. “And secondly, my friends know how to handle me and know when to cut me off. I think you forget that I’m twenty-six and not twenty-one. I’ve been doing this for a few years you know.”
He grunts and I automatically roll my eyes into the phone. “None of what you just said gives me any comfort. I’ll just make sure to get my shit done quickly so I can cut you off myself.”
My hand not holding the phone goes to my hip. “If you storm into that bar and throw me over your shoulder like some caveman, Carroll, we will be having words when I sober up.”
“Hmm, thanks for the idea, Sparks.”
“Reese.” The sound of the dial tone blares in my ear and I stuff my phone back into my pocket. Oh, for Christ’s sake. He would do something embarrassing like that. I can just see myself getting hauled out of there tonight with my face stuck in his ass again. Well, two can play at that game. If he’s going to manhandle me in front of my friends, then I’ll just have to make sure I’m wearing something to make him lose his shit. That’s my only defense really, causing him to stumble at the sight of me and giving me, hopefully, enough time to run away from him. But do I even have an outfit that could pull that off?
“Joey, we’re closing up early so we can go shopping.” I begin throwing the ingredients for the icing together into a bowl. I register his elated response and focus on my task at hand. Finish making the frosting, ice the cake, and blow Reese’s fucking mind. I grin mischievously at myself. He has no idea who he’s messing with.
After perusing the racks at La Bella for over an hour, I finally settle on a sleeveless coral dress with a deep v neck and exposed back. It isn’t too clingy, allowing me for movement and hiding the lines of my white garter with matching bra and panties. But it is short, really fucking short. I had decided on the garter immediately after our phone call ended; that and the fact I would be picking out some sort of dress for the evening. Reese looks at me differently when I wear dresses. He still has that raw animalistic stare that could melt the panties right off me, but there is also this sweetness behind it, a gentleness that I see when I wear them around him. He looks at me like I’m delicate, and I like that.
Joey has gotten his car back from the shop and drives us to meet Juls at The Tavern, not failing to remind me that we both look better in his ride than in mine. All this Sam hate. I’m already two rum and cokes in when Ian and Billy show up, my heart pounding at the anticipation of Reese’s arrival.
“I would just like to say, Ian, that you did an amaaazziinngg job on the ring. Like fucking brilliant, dude. You’re like the lord of the rings now. Ooohhh, you’re Frodo.” Yup. I am definitely in the nickname giving stage of my night. I bop around on my stool, tapping my hands lightly on the bar in rhythm with the song playing overhead.
“Wow, how many drinks have you had?” he asks as Juls wiggles in his lap. She can’t stop looking at her ring and it’s absolutely adorable. I’m certain she’s shown it to me fifty times since we’ve arrived, as if I haven’t seen it already.
“Psst, like none,” I reply. “So have you two thought of a honeymoon spot?”
“Fiji!” Juls yells and Ian barks a laugh.
“I don’t really care, just as long as I get my sexy wife in a bikini, and then quickly out of it,” he says and I feel my face flush. “I can’t fucking wait to marry you.” He speaks so low, I almost don’t hear him. But I do. Tears fill my eyes and I meet Juls’ rapidly blinking teary-eyed stare.