A Harem of One [The Moreland Brothers 3] (Siren Publishing Allure) (6 page)

The reception was to take place on board at six that evening, and the wedding ceremony would follow at eight. Jamie dropped her Sac hobo bag on the bed and took enough time to put a cap on the curls scattered across her scalp. It was a vain attempt to keep the style fresh until showtime. After that was over, she could give a care less what happened to her hair. Jamie was a no frills, no fuss type of girl, and the constant primping needed to look fierce or chic was not her style. Put her in a T-shirt and jeans, that was all she needed to be comfortable and content. Only settings like this one, lavish and beyond her own, left her scatterbrained and prone to stammer. It was now four hours and counting for the wedding of her best friend’s dreams.

A quick rap against the door had Jamie calling out to come inside. Even as she wanted to dismiss the thought it was Marq, she couldn’t help but to hope it was. It wasn’t, and the disappointment must have shown, as the entrant frowned back. Makenzie.

“Hey, boo, what’s wrong?” Makenzie was peering around the door, afro puff filling the air around her.

“Nothing, come in. I was thinking we could have a dish session this afternoon.”

“Hope you’ve got nothing bad to spill, ’cause last thing we need is Charli flipping on her wedding day.”

“Nah, just wanted some conversation, that’s all. Between the film festivals and this blog, I barely have seen either of you in the last year. Only for the weddings…” Jamie’s face tightened then smoothed out blankly. Her usual face.

“It’s all right you know more than anybody. I want NCindieseen to succeed. Great gains come with sacrifice and risk. So don’t think that you are pushing us to the back burner. I know I haven’t been the friend I used to be either. Now that my paintings are selling like hotcakes and I’ve gotten hitched, I don’t have the same amount of time I used to either.”

Jamie smiled and walked over to her friend, who snatched her up promptly for a hug. Makenzie smelled good, almost like everything warm and homey lived in her skin.

“Come on. Let’s go get Charli.” Makenzie smiled broadly and tugged Jamie out the still ajar door.

When they reached the hallway, Mak finally realized she had no idea which room was Charli’s or where that room might be.

“Where are we headed anyway?” Mak asked, looking back at Jamie.

“You’re asking the wrong one. We need to call her. I got lost looking for my own room.”

Mak pulled out her beloved smartphone and pressed the number two for Charli.

“Hey, boo, where are you at?”

The response was audible in the small hallway, but muffled.

“Forget that. Come and get us, girl. I can’t follow the directions you’re giving me.”

Mak hung up the phone and walked to the end of the corridor. No sooner than they reached the hallway did Charli pop her head through the stairwell.

“Hey, ladies, come on down.” Charli propped the door wide and let them into the aisle. Two minutes later, they reached the room Charli claimed in the lower berth of the ship. Deven had his own room, but it was wasted as he was apparently lying in his fiancée’s bed, barely covered with a sheet across his lap.

“Boo, can you get out for a few? It’s time for some girl chat.” Charli looked at the love of her life with a telling, tear-wet gaze.

Three pairs of eyes watched Deven grin smugly and quirk a brow.

“I can, but I don’t think you want your friends to get that much of a look at me. Maybe you should use my room.”

Charli’s face burned red, the blush evident around her ears and nape even with the deep color of her skin. She herded the gaggle of giggling friends out in front of her and shut the door.

“Stop laughing at me.”

“Jamie is even laughing at you. I’m sure not going to stop.” Makenzie laughed harder, and even Charli joined in.

They walked a scant fifteen feet and made themselves comfortable in the well-appointed room. Charli flung herself across the bed, Jamie found a floor cushion, and Makenzie sat straddled across the bench catty corner to the others.

“Oh…wait a sec, ladies.” Charli jumped up and sauntered over to the small bar, taking three glasses and a bottle of Ciroc. Every one received a glass and a nip of liquor on the rocks. When Charli sat down this time, she took a deep breath and laughed.

“What’s so funny, Charli?” Jamie asked.

“I can’t believe I’m marrying him.”

“Why not?” Makenzie asked, and Jamie seconded mentally. The man was richer than Croesus, sexier than Matthew McConaughey, and was head over heels in love.
What more can any woman want?
Jamie sure knew who she wanted though, and it wasn’t Deven.

“Everything is too perfect. I don’t have a single zit, the wedding planning went seamlessly, and I love his mother. Something has to—”

The words were cut off by Mak, who clamped a small hand over her friend’s mouth.

“Uh-uh, don’t go inviting trouble. If it is good, be grateful. When it’s bad, pray.”

Charli nodded her head in agreement and smiled.

“You’re right, Mak. I just can’t believe how perfect he is. The last months have been heaven. I just don’t know how to feel. Sometimes I find myself giddy, and I don’t know why. Other times I’m paranoid that I will end up a Stepford wife because I’m too desperate to keep him.”

“I know. Those Moreland men have a way about them.” Mak put her glass over to her friend and gently clinked the rims of the two snifters together.

“Jamie, if you only knew.” Charli just shook her head.

“I know enough.” Jamie let the words speak for themselves, complete with a knowing look. Charli pursed her lips and looked abashed for a split second.

“No way, I can’t believe I’m that loud.” Charli looked dumb for a moment then appeared to reconsider. “Maybe I am. Hell, he works hard to make that happen.”

Jamie laughed. She never felt like screaming with frustration and joy at the same time. Maybe some women were not made to orgasm during sex. The only time she got off was alone with a trusty toy, and even then that didn’t feel like much worth the effort.

“Makenzie, you don’t have a leg to stand on, girl. So I suggest you stop cackling like a hen ova there.” Makenzie turned beet red and laughed harder.

“Girl, shut up, I can’t help he’s hung like two horses.” Makenzie shuddered and sipped her liquor slowly. “Mmm…that sounds appropriate.” Charli smirked a bit and swallowed the rest of her glass.

Jamie still sipped hers and let the mellow burn to her belly. She should tell them. She had finished the tat months ago. To give herself a dose of courage, she downed the rest of her glass back in a long gulp. Jamie spoke up.

“I have something to show ya’ll.” Both Makenzie and Charli looked at their friend in unison, eyes searching her for a hint.

“What is it?” Charli busted out and asked.

“This.” Jamie stood and pulled her green T-shirt off. Her friends gasped aloud, and she hadn’t even turned around yet.

“Wow…” Charli and Makenzie spoke in unison. They walked over and circled Jamie, each looking at the detail on the ink bisecting her belly and back.

“It’s awesome. I love it!” Charli jumped up and hugged her friend. “That took some balls, girl. Who would have thunk it? Our Jamie tatted up like sailors on shore leave.”

Jamie laughed. Only Charli would say that.

Makenzie looked thoughtful for a moment and started searching out the detail with her eyes.

“Would you let me paint you?” Makenzie’s hands clenched slightly, and Jamie could see she was itching to sketch.

“Sure, why?”

“Just the dichotomy of duality. The tattoo brings you a depth that I have to capture on canvas. Do you mind being topless? Or maybe nude?” The question seemed to come from left field as Makenzie’s gaze was glazed over, and Jamie realized that her friend wasn’t all there at the moment.

“Uh—” Jamie was shocked by the idea, and she knew her expression had to be that of a deer caught in the headlights.

“I don’t think our Jamie is game for that, Makenzie,” Charli interjected, and Makenzie’s face showed she agreed. The fact that her friends even thought she didn’t have the balls to do it made up Jamie’s mind.

“Sure, Makenzie, I’d love to pose for you.” Jamison spoke before she realized it. The pair of mouths facing her went slack, and their lips gaped wider than their eyes did.

“Word’s bond, Jamie?” Makenzie wasn’t going to let her squirm out of her promise.

“Yeah, word is bond. And don’t worry, Charli. It will be covered in time for the reception.” Jamie smiled and thought that it was a bit fun to spoil other people’s expectations of her.

“Down the hatch, ladies.” Charli came back and poured a small shot of Ciroc in each glass. They all clinked glasses and tossed their drinks back.

“Charli, boo, it’s time to get you hitched, girl.” Makenzie tugged her to the bathroom and applied the base make up to make Charli glow even brighter, and Jamie tugged off the Gucci scarf covering her hair up. The hair was finished for the most part, as Charli had the extensions and roller set earlier. The only thing left was to let the rollers out, brush to a side ponytail at the nape, and make a chignon. The front of her do was a Farrah Fawcett inspired bang and side part. Charlotte would pin the flowers later, and Charli’s mom, Geraldine, would be in to help her dress. Makenzie finished the makeup with a bit of time to spare and gave Charli a robe.

“Put this on then have these.” She handed Charli a pack of crackers and a cold bottle of Jamaican ginger beer from the fridge.

Jamie walked away with Mak, the pair splitting up at the stairwell headed for their own rooms.

When she made it back to the room, Jamie found she didn’t have too much time left. Opting to call Charlotte before getting ready, she got the voice mail instead and opted to leave a message. First Jamie undressed, putting on a pair of PJ pants and a robe from the closet to keep her clothes clean while she made her face up. She then put on a light coat of base makeup and powder, mascara, and smudge of liner on her eyelids. A matte lipstick was last.

When she put on earrings, she heard a knock at the door and, assuming it was Charlotte, opened it wide. But it wasn’t Charlotte. Marq stood there instead, half-dressed. He wore a wifebeater A-line tank with his tuxedo pants and shoes. The pants were a more modern cut and clung closely to his thick thighs and slim hips. His hair was combed in a classic side part, making him look even more yuppie and even more yummy. If the man wasn’t sex on a stick, then Jamie had no idea who was. After it became apparent she was a deer in the headlights, Marq smirked slightly and walked inside as if he owned the joint as usual.

“Mom told me you needed some help.”

Jamie was stunned. Charlotte sent him?

“W–w–what?”

“Yeah.”

“But she promised–d–d she would h–help.” Damn the stutter. Jamie had something to say.

“Something about a tattoo? Covering it up ring a bell?” If anything, the initial smirk on Marq’s lips became an ear-to-ear grin. Jamie could see he was enjoying her discomfort, and her anger rose even further. The fury made her next words very clear and left no mistake as to how she felt.

“Why are you here then? Your mother is supposed to help me. There was nothing in that discussion to lead me to believe you would be here in lieu.”

“But didn’t you get her message? She had to get the champagne for the toast and won’t be back until just before the reception starts.”

“Well, then I’ll wait.”

“No can do. Mom needs to get dressed just like you do.” No way was she going to let him see her nude, even partially.

“T–th–hanks but n–no thanks.”

“Come on, Jamison. I do bite, but it feels good. Promise. Plus, if you show me yours, I’ll be sure to show you mine.” The comic leer on his face combined with an exaggerated wink made Jamie fall halfway over in laughter.

But even as she laughed, Jamie’s curiosity got the best of her. What did he have on his back?

* * * *

As he stood in front of her door, Marques felt his hands shake slightly, and he wiped the moisture off of his palms onto his slacks. He had the feeling that Jamison wasn’t going to appreciate that he showed up instead of his mom. But, he thought smugly, at least he had a valid reason for it.

Marq was in the process of getting ready when he got a phone call from his mother.

“Hey, Marq, I need a huge favor.”

“Sure, Mom, what is it?”

“I just called Jamison, but she didn’t answer the phone. I left her a message, but there’s no telling if she will check the room extension or not. I promised her that I would help her do some airbrush on her back before she got dressed today, and I’m not going to make it. The wine order is still screwed up. Can you help her for me? You’re the only person I can ask.” Airbrush Jamison’s back? That sounded like a recipe for either a really good time or a severely awkward moment.

“Sure, Mom. When are you supposed to be there?”

“Give or take, ten minutes ago.”

“I’m not dressed, but I can get to her in ten minutes.” He couldn’t wait.

It took a moment for her to answer the door, and he wisely used the extra seconds to put on his best poker face. He explained why he was there, but even with the legitimate reasoning, he felt like a pervert due to his excitement to see a partially nude woman. Well, he amended, not just any woman could make him this nervous, but his dawn yogi somehow did.