Forbidden Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book 9) (12 page)

The girls all break out into wild screams—Scarlett being one of them. She lands in the seat next to mine with Owen and Piper next to her. Their friend, Daisy, seems to have done a disappearing act while the rest of the girls watch the stage with listless enthusiasm down at the other end of the table.

“Beefcake, huh?” Piper leans her shoulder into Owen’s. “You’re not reprising your role as stud extraordinaire, are you?”

“Nope. I’ve passed my crown down to Jet and Rex.”

Scarlett lets out a cutting laugh. “So, are you two the all male revue for the evening?” She looks to me when she says it and ironically when she laughed, too.

Jet leans in. “Sweetheart, if you ever want to see what’s under these clothes, I can arrange a private show.”

I shoot Jet a look that lets him know his balls are in peril for even suggesting it.

The music picks up with a quicker beat, and the lights go on and off in a pink rainbow of colors as the announcer takes the stage.

“Dude”—Jet socks me in the arm and leans in to whisper—“you’re into her. That pissed-off look on your face affirms it. Make something happen.”

I glance back at Scarlett to find both her and Piper whispering between themselves.

“She’s practically my sister. I don’t know. It’d be weird.” I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to having some kind of feelings toward her, mostly irritation at this point. “We’re just friends. She came over last night, and we hung out.” I shrug.

“She did?” His brows hook into his forehead. “What did you do?”

“Nothing really. She’s a cool chick. We ate donuts and watched a dick flick.”

“Dude.” Jet blinks at me, amused by the confession. “Did you just say she flicked your dick?”

“What?” I glance back to Scarlett to make sure she’s not listening. “No. No dick flicking took place. It was totally innocent.” Those late night texts where I threatened her with my tongue come back to haunt me. The lights cut out to just about nothing. Scarlett glows like an angel, pale, candescent like some ethereal being who is clearly out of place in this den of disgrace.

The announcer steps out into the limelight, a roided out, heavily tanned gym rat of a man with arms like meathooks and fingers like bananas.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest talent here this evening. Gracing us with their presence from the
Dungeon
”—the girls in the crowd scream their heads off, and both brides-to-be drop their faces into their hands—“Rocky Silver and the Stud Hammers!” The crowd goes ballistic as three beefy males strut down the long tongue of the stage. They’re all still perfectly gift wrapped in breakaway pants and torn-up T-shirts. I turn to Jet and shake my head. Figures. We head to a strip club and end up watching dudes on display.

“I’ll need a couple of volunteers for the evening,” the guy in the middle burps out at the crowd, and our end of the room lights up like a firecracker display. The brides-to-be outright refuse to take part in the sexual debauchery, so Piper hauls Scarlett and Cassidy up on stage with her.

My chest lets out a few hefty wallops as Scarlett struts those long pale stems in the direction of Rocky Silver himself, the brick house in the middle, I’m assuming. Her hair shines down her back like crushed rubies, her short skirt does its damnedest to show off her best assets, those creamy thighs, and my gut wrenches as the guys in the peanut gallery start whooping it up again. Piper and Cassidy end up with the guys in the back, and as the music starts up, the dudes begin swaying their hips into the girls. Rocky takes his meaty paws and places Scarlett’s hands over his chest, using her to help rip off his already shredded T-shirt, and I smirk. Greasy jackass.

They amp up their routine, strutting around the girls as if laying claim to them, and once the crescendo hits, they whip off their pants, revealing a hammock cradling their manhood. They’re oiled from head to shiny toe, and the girls laugh and sway to the music while the dudes continue to grind up against them.

Jet takes a picture of Cassidy and the douche she’s with and shoots it to Cade. “Just letting him know she’s safe with us.”

“You’re an asshole.”

A few of the patrons try to get the girls’ attention by waving dollars at them, and since Scarlett is so close to the edge of the stage—no thanks to Rocky and the miniature junk in his trunk needing all of the damn attention—they’re grazing her ankles with bills.

I hop up and head over, just making sure no one falls off the stage and lands on an inebriated idiot. Cade isn’t here, and I know he’d do the same. The last thing I want is Scarlett impaling herself on some drunk fuck who’s looking to cop a feel.

Owen pops up on my side as the stage routine drones on forever.

“You need a better look at the big boys, darlin’?” He crosses his arms, glaring at the dude grinding up against Piper. “I know these assholes.” He shoots the one manhandling Scarlett a thumbs-up.

“Come on, sweetie!” An inebriated jackass next to me tries to swipe at Scarlett’s ankle and nearly catches her heel.

I shove my hand in his chest without thinking twice. “Listen, fucker, you’re going to land her on the floor if you do that. She’s not a part of the show. Chill out, man.”

His buddy jumps up and sits at the foot of the stage, his eyes crossing as he gets a good look up her skirt, and I lunge to get him the hell away. But in an effort to deflect me, he leans back, sending Scarlett flying. I’ve caught every pass ever thrown my way at Whitney Briggs. When it really counts, I haven’t dropped a single thing. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Scarlett touch the floor.

Scarlett lands with a hearty thud right into my arms just as I fall back and knock the entire front row right out of their stools like dominos.

Her chest rises and falls just as hard as mine. Her face is piqued bright pink, making those lime green eyes of hers shine like sirens.

“You okay?”

Her brows do a little dance that looks so cute it makes my stomach knife with pain. “I’m fine.”

“You want to blow this place?” I may not have a car, but I know she drove. I’d leave with her if she wanted me to.

“I’d love to, but it just so happens that my roommate is in the next act.” She wrinkles her nose, looking cute as hell, and the growing problem in my boxers starts to rise in her honor. “I sort of have to stay.”

“Daisy?” I glance to the stage as the men trot off, leaving a greasy trail in their wake.

“It’s sort of her thing. Nothing nude. Just enough shaking of the hips to pay her bills.” Scarlett struggles to stand as I land her on her feet. “You mind getting me back to safety?”

“Sure thing.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders, and her soft hair touches over my skin like a fire as we make our way back to the table. Owen and the other two girls fall into their seats, laughing like there’s no tomorrow.

The lights go crazy, and Cassidy claps, getting the table’s attention. “My sister, Caila Jace, is up next! And my bestie is with her!”

The music starts in nice and cheesy, a porno preview if I’ve ever heard one, and true to Cassidy’s word, a girl who looks just like her struts out in heels a foot high. Cade mentioned Cassidy had a twin who worked here, and up until this moment I forgot that tidbit. The fact Caila Jace is identical to Cassidy makes me squirm a little in my seat.

Scarlett leans in. “Yes, they’re identical. You’re practically going to see your best bud’s girlfriend
naked
. I bet that’s not what you thought you were signing up for.” A satisfied smirk takes over as she blinks into me.

“Nope.” I give a wistful smile. “Didn’t plan on seeing your red lace panties either, but that sort of happened, too.” It’s true. I caught a glimpse as I dove for the lunatic trying to take her down.

“Oh my shit!” She slaps me over the chest, and I catch her hand.

For whatever reason, the music, the screaming crowd, the glowing cocktails that dot the vicinity like candles all seem to melt into one big warble of white noise, and it’s just Scarlett and I, her hand in mine, her arms lying over my chest even if it is in an effort to beat the shit out of me. But something in me warms at the thought of her here with me, our skin touching, those violent four leaf clover eyes bearing hard into mine.

“Oh my shit,” I parrot in a whisper. Jet and Owen are right. I’m falling hard for Scarlett Kent, and I didn’t see it coming.

The girls on stage do their thing, and soon enough, Cassidy’s lookalike is taking it off, shaking the girls for all to see. Cade would be blind with rage if he could hear half of the guys in here. The girls at our table cheer as Daisy hops and skips to the music in the background, thankfully with her top on or I’d have a hard time facing her at school. But I’m not too entranced with what’s happening up on stage. I’m too busy feeling the heat sizzle from Scarlett’s leg to mine, her shoulder still hotly glued over my chest. I’m too busy stealing glances at the porcelain goddess that has me entranced.

I’ve fallen hard for Scarlett Kent.

And if our parents tie the knot, come August, she’ll be my stepsister.

T
he overlook adjacent
to the Witch’s Cauldron is beautifully adorned with a latticed arch interwoven with wisteria and an entire Garden of Eden’s worth of flowers gracing it on either side. Both Piper and Baya are standing up for Annie, and Marley will have her sister, Jemma, stand up for her. I’ve witnessed Jemma lose her shit about ten times in the last half hour—needing to smoke a “damn cigarette.” The ceremony is due to begin any moment. The seats are brimming with friends and family. Technically, I’m neither, but Piper begged both Cassidy and me to come. She asked Daisy, too, but she’s stuck at the club all day. She mentioned that the other night when we were all there for the bachelorette event gone awry that someone slipped a waitress a two-hundred-dollar tip to give her. To add to the mystery, the waitress said it came from someone at our table. And for as much as I accused Piper of doling out the big bucks, she denied it. Besides, the waitress mentioned that it was gifted by a very handsome guy—
real good-looking
. A part of me wonders if that very handsome guy might have been Rex. Everyone knows the Tobermans are loaded. Rex logged time at a ritzy boarding school that specializes in pumping out heads of state and Nobel Prize winners. Everyone also knows that scholastically fencing your kids in full-time from the ages of five to eighteen doesn’t come cheap. And good-looking? Ha! Rex has those other boys beat by a handsome mile. It must have been Rex.

My heart sinks at the idea.

I’m not sure why, but I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like he’s haunting me both day and night. My mind races at the prospect of touching him, for show, of course, at the prospect of
kissing
him—a sport I’m not looking forward to. Okay, so maybe I’m looking forward to it just a little, but only because I’m curious on some level if his tongue really is forked as I suspect.

He’s here today at the wedding of all places. Of course, he is. Rex Toberman is like a bad rash I can’t get rid of. Yesterday, I had a cross campus delivery for Roxy, and sure enough, there he was sweating in the sun in the name of Whitney Briggs University’s football team. I was practically forced to watch as I crossed the periphery of the field on my way to the athletics department. Rex was sporting shoulder pads that made him wide as a car, and those dark smudges of grease under each eye made him look animalistic as he charged head-on into the blocking sled. I may have paid extra attention as his muscles redefined themselves as they flexed, their dark contours looked as if an artist outlined him in charcoal. Rex is built for speed. I’ll give him that. And, thankfully for Whitney Briggs, he knows how to use it. Nevertheless, he’s here as a guest of Owen’s, which seems like a stretch, but Owen has a big heart, and so does everyone I’ve met so far in Hollow Brook.

A trio of violinists starts in and fills the mountainside with a blissful rendition of “A Whole New World.” I happen to be a Disney fanatic, so I happily swoon to the romantic melody.

“What’d I miss?”

I turn to find Rex seated by my side, his dark hair makes those robin’s egg eyes of his stand out like stars, and every girl in a ten-seat radius sighs at the sight of him. My stomach tenses as he leans in farther. His sharp features, his broad face, he’s pretty much your textbook all-star handsome, very good-looking quarterback. Honestly, it’s as if the drama department cast him for the part—
type
cast. Young, hip, all-American perfection made to melt panties nationwide. It’s sickening the way he demands my thighs quiver for him. Not that my thighs are allowed to quiver for him. It’s strictly an involuntary act of biology. And everyone knows biology can be a damn bitch when she wants to.

“You missed your manners.” I hold my finger to my lips. “They’re starting now.” Owen walks Piper down the aisle before taking a seat up front. Piper looks stunning per usual in a strapless gown in a funny shade between lavender and green. Cade walks Baya down the aisle, and they both join Piper up on stage. Marley’s sister, Jemma, walks herself down the aisle, and the faint scent of smoke trails her as she passes me by. It looks as if she finally got that cigarette—or more to the point, the entire pack. She reeks like a walking hookah shop for God’s sake.

The music switches up a bit, and the two grooms appear at the altar, both looking calm and relaxed, dapper to the nines with their matching black suits. The crowd stands and faces the rear, and we see them—Marley and Annie stand there both in luscious satin gowns. They’re beyond beautiful, and just the sight of these pristine, very much in love girls has the power to take my breath away. The gowns themselves are nothing too frilly, yet they both manage to look like Greek goddesses descending Mount Olympus. Marley has her hair up in a messy bun with a spray of baby’s breath sprouting from it. Annie has her long hair down and wears a wreath made of braided miniature roses. They both look like storybook brides, the kind that make you want to weep and die on the spot because you’re filled with so much heartfelt admiration. I pull a tissue from my purse and ball it up into the corners of my eyes as they pass me.

“Hey”—Rex lands his hands over my arms as if he were allowed—“you okay?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” I snap back. “Can’t you see I’m at a wedding?”

He frowns at my frank analysis, and we join the rest of the crowd in taking our seats. The minister speaks to the four of them as if they were one while gifting the couples with a special blessing. Annie and Blake read their vows first, nothing too lengthy, just your standard I-promise-to-love-you-forever-and-then-straight-into-eternity.

Izzy steps up to the altar, holding their son, passing him off to Blake, and the water works start again. I pull out another tissue and shove a wad into each eyeball as I boohoo with the best of them. Annie, Blake, and their sweet son form a holy huddle as the minister moves his attention to Marley and Wyatt, aka Barbie and Ken. The two of them look like a pair of cake toppers come to life as they exchange their vows. Once they’re through, Jemma shoots the lucky couple a thumbs-up, inciting a soft roll of laughter from the crowd. I’m sure if that were Sabrina she would have given me an alternate finger, thus inciting gasps of
horror
from my wedding guests. Come to think of it, when Sabrina and Duncan tie the knot, I might be tempted to do the same.

The minister asks if there are any objections to these holy unions, and the crowd stills for a moment.

Rex leans in and whispers, “I don’t get why they do that.”

“Neither do I, but in about a month and a half, if things go very, very badly and we find our parents babbling half-truths about eternity, we’ll be damn glad they do.”

A quiet burst of laughter comes from him just as the minister allows the grooms to kiss their brides. The entire crowd goes wild as if we were witnessing the most important lip-locks in human history—and in a way we are. These sweet pecks earmark the first day of the rest of their lives as a family. This right here, is the beginning of everything they will ever be as a happily married couple.

The minister nods to the anticipatory crowd. “It is my privilege to introduce to you for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Blake Daniels, and Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt James!”

A thunderous applaud breaks out, and even the warm perfumed breeze kicks in as if lauding their efforts. The happy couples run down the aisle, and I spot Annie’s brothers, Bryson and Holt, up front wiping tears from their eyes. Piper and Cade embrace at their brothers’ shared union, and even they have glistening tracks down their cheeks, and I lose it. I plop my face into my palms and weep for the happy couples. Their joy is almost too much for me to take in.

A warm arm finds itself around my waist, and as much as I’d love for that to be Cassidy or Daisy or even Piper stealing a moment from her familial bliss to comfort me, I know it’s none of the above. I struggle to pull it together and open my eyes to Rex Toberman holding me with the backdrop of the mountain behind him, just a wall of granite dotted with sprays of yellow honeysuckle. His dark hair, those serious eyes demand I pay him attention.

The crowd has all but dispersed, moving out into the clearing where a huge line forms to congratulate the happy couples.

Rex brushes the trail of tears from my cheeks with his thumb and nods to the cliff side. “You want to head to the overlook?”

“Sure.” He helps me make my way over the patchy grass in the suicide heels I thought it was a great idea to don, and we head straight for the altar. It feels like magic stepping underneath the wisteria rainbow above us. “Wow, I almost feel like a bride.” A swell of anticipation rears in me for something I had never imagined I even wanted. “I’ll probably make a hideous bride. I’m pretty sure I’ll wear black on my wedding day, and knowing my hair, the entire nightmare has Halloween written all over it.”

Rex belts out a hearty laugh at the thought of my future bridal disaster.

“You’re going to make a stunning bride no matter what you wear.” His eyes narrow into mine, still squinting with their silent laughter. “You can show up in the nude, and you’d out stun every girl on the planet.”

My mouth opens as if to say something, some sarcastic retort, anything to decry what he just suggested, but quite frankly, I’m too shocked to think he believes this to be true.

“I bet you’d love nothing more than a nude wedding.” I roll my eyes. “Come to think of it, that’s probably your favorite pastime—picturing people in the nude. Is that the first thing they teach you in Football 101? Imagine your opponents in the buff, and you’ll no longer find them intimidating?”

Any trace of a smile drops right off his smug mug, and a sense of satisfaction fills me, because let’s face it, my work is done. “I have never, nor will I ever envision a team of sweaty dudes in the buff.” He looks me in the eye, and that snide smirk of his reprises. “Now the cheerleaders, that’s a different story.”

“
Ugh
, you’re such a pervert.” Savannah and her long, slender ponytail comes to mind, and for a fleeting moment, she bounces through my mind in the nude, her perky little boobs taking turns swatting her in the eyes. I’d like to give her two black eyes myself. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone annoy me more, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. “And never mind me as a bride. I’m never getting married. Marriage is a joke,” I spit the words out like they were a mouth full of antifreeze.

“Whoa.” He glances over his shoulder. “Keep it down. There’s an entire fleet of cameramen present capturing every nuance of this magical day. It just so happens there are at least four people here who believe in that ‘joke,’” he says the last word in air quotes.

But something in me warmed when he said nuance. A dull smile rides on my lips. I admit the fact Rex doesn’t come across as your textbook dumb jock does please me on a cerebral level. In the least, it makes the time I’m forced to spend with him a little less painful. I’m sure his mother is proud of the fact he’s both well-mannered and erudite. I’m sure his father is pleased with his all-star jock standing, and perhaps his standing—or lying down as it were—with the cheerleaders, too. Too bad they couldn’t combine their pride and stitch back together that family they ripped asunder.

“Did you ever talk to your dad? What does he think of my father stepping on his terrain?”

“His terrain?” His chest bucks with a silent laugh, and he leads us closer to the railing. The sun lies silent over Hollow Brook, whitewashing it like an Impressionistic painting. “My father has relinquished my mother into the wild. Those who chose to can devour her at will.”

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Are you saying my father is a wild animal?” My father is anything but. He’s a gentle soul, one far too kind to ever step on any other man’s terrain. Too bad my mother decided to turn a blind eye to his wonderful attributes.

“I’m saying your father is a nice guy.” He winces as if it pained him to admit it. “As much as I want to find fault with him, I can’t seem to. He’s been pretty great to my mom and pretty great to my brother, sister, and me.”

“Wow. I feel like an ass now. I haven’t exactly made a secret of how I feel about your mom. I mean she’s
cordial
to me. Sabrina and Lawson really seem to like her, too, but”—a mean shudder drills through my spine—“I don’t know. I think I’d better stop while I’m ahead.”

“No say it.” His hand finds its way over the small of my back, but in a rarity for Rex Toberman the act seems anything but sexual. His gaze presses into mine as if I’ve come to the precipice of some dirty family secret of theirs, and he’s beckoning me to fumble my way into it.

“Oh—I can’t.” I shake my head, glancing around at the diminishing crowd. Half of the guests have already left for the Black Bear. The sun is beginning to set as the wedding party poses at the distal end of the cliffs for those last few romantic shots of the day. My lips play with the idea of a smile. “Look at that,” I whisper. “Wedding pictures are the kind of things that haunt hallways and living rooms for decades to come.” I glance down at the ground, suddenly blinking back the tears already clinging to my lashes. “My dad finally took his down last summer, right around the time he started dating your mom. It felt like the final painful incision—his way of extracting my mom from our lives for good.” My chest hiccups with grief. “Of course, she’s eight years deep in a brand new family. My sisters, Chrissy and Gini, are pretty great. I just don’t really know them like I do Sabrina and Lawson. I would definitely trade Sabrina for them, though.”

We share a laugh.

“I’m sorry.” He leans in until we’re a breath away. There’s something about the manly girth of his body that makes me crave to wrap myself around him.

“What in the world do you have to be sorry for?”

“That you’re hurting.” He wipes the lone tear that’s managed to fall with his thumb and presses it to my lips. My stomach cinches like a tension wire, and my body catches fire from that small, kindhearted act. Our eyes seal over one another as if there were a magnetic force securing us, and there’s not a place on this planet I’d rather be right now than lost in Rex Toberman’s river blue eyes.