G-Men: The Series (135 page)

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Authors: Andrea Smith

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I gave him a scowl, but it did nothing to deter his laughter. He ordered two shots of tequila from the bartender.

“Colin, really,” I started, “I’m not a big fan…”

“Aw, shut the hell up, mate,” he said grinning, handing me one of the shots, and raising his up. “To Night Moves—cutting edge technology for the romantic stalker in all of us! Salute!”

He downed his shot, still totally entertained by my revelation. I downed mine quickly, and turned my attention back to him.

“I’m pleased you’re entertained at my expense, Colin,” I remarked tersely. “I don’t have to tell you that what I just shared with you is confidential…”

“No problem, bro,” he snickered, his American accent becoming more prominent with his escalating inebriation. “But I have to ask, what if she takes the clit jewelry out? I mean what if her next boyfriend doesn’t fancy her having it?”

I gave him a dark glare, signaling the bartender for the tab. Colin was getting too drunk and I’d promised Ronnie he wouldn’t be hung over for the wedding.

“There’s not been a new boyfriend so far,” I snapped.

“Well,” he snorted, “with her looks and body, it’s just a matter of time, mate.”

“Shut up, Colin,” I snarled. “You’re drunk and I’m getting you back to your suite.”

“And you, my friend? Well, you are totally fucked-up over her, and too bloody proud to fix it.”

“Is that so?” I asked, handing my credit card to the bartender.

“Bloody right,” he slurred. “I don’t mean to overstep my place here, Easton, and I’ve never said something to you that needed to be said a long time ago. I should’ve said it, but I didn’t, but now I am. Your mother isn’t to blame for your fucked-upness, you know?”

“Do tell?”

“You’re
to blame for it. You
allowed
your mother to fuck with your head all these years, knowing damn well she did it for sport, for pure entertainment. I mean, for Chrissake, man, you empowered her and she
still
has the power because you
allow
it! You did the same with that wench of a model…what’s her name? Bianca…” He made an at-a-loss hand gesture through the air, “Something-or-other.”

I grabbed my receipt and credit card back from the bartender, shrugging my jacket on, and helping Colin up from the bar stool. “You’re shitfaced, Colin. Come on, let’s get you back to your hotel.”

“Wait a minute,” he said, wrenching his arm away. “Just listen to me, Easton. Yeah, I’m drunk right now, but it doesn’t mean I’m not speaking the truth now, does it? You love the girl, the girl loves you. Take it from your best friend—hell, take it from your
only real
friend. Don’t waste one more fucking day
not
doing something about it. You need to fix it, got it?”

He was staring into my eyes and I could see that he was passionate about getting his message across to me. It was something I’d already thought about a million times. I didn’t need Colin to point out what I already knew. In my mind, I worried it was already too late.

“I got it, Colin,” I replied. “She may just be done with me, though.”

“Don’t think so, mate. You make it right with her while you have the chance.”

chapter 52

September 14th—Colin and Ronnie’s wedding day turned out to be gorgeous. It was sunny, with a slight crispness in the air announcing fall was here. The ceremony was scheduled for 4:30 in the afternoon at Central Methodist Church. I already knew Easton was best man.

The wedding wasn’t going to be huge, but the party afterwards was going to be pretty impressive. Apparently, as a gift to the newlywed’s, Easton had booked a high-end nightclub called Harmony on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. That had to have cost a fortune, having a trendy nightclub such as that close their doors to accommodate a private reception on a Saturday night, but then, Easton had the means to lavish on the people he cared about.

I’d just finished showering and was getting my make-up on. My butterflies had been restless all day, not to mention a new fluttering that had made its presence known. Our baby. God! Why now? I was already so nervous, not knowing how I’d react to him. These pregnancy hormones were starting to fuck with my mind, it seemed. I’d confided to Lindsey how I would feel happy and fine one moment, nervous and agitated the next, and then an overwhelming desire to see Easton would wash over me. I’d been having dreams about him two to three times a week.

Lindsey had laughed, saying it was all perfectly natural. She said my “nesting” instinct had kicked in. I wasn’t sure what the hell that was, but at times I
did
have the urge to fucking climb a tree and
just
hide from everything and everyone.

After I finished with my hair, I slipped into the dark teal knit dress that I had brought to wear. It was trimmed with black fleur de leis scrolling.

“Hey,” Lindsey said, coming up behind me, “you aren’t trying to upstage the bride today are you, Darce?”

“Puhleeze,” I replied, laughing, “You’re doing best friend duty, aren’t you? What? Trying to make me feel better about my expanding waistline?”

“Yeah, right,” she giggled, zipping me the rest of the way up. “God—by the time I was five months pregnant I was already showing like I had twins in there.”

I nodded, slipping my earrings in. “That’s because you ate anything that didn’t eat you first, as I remember.”

“Shut up,” she giggled. “I learned my lesson on that one. Won’t do that for the next baby.”

“Are you and Taz thinking of having another one?” I asked.

“Oh no—I mean in a couple more years. I want to go back to work when Harper turns a year old. We’re going to buy a bigger place.”

I thought how nice it was that she and Taz had plans. I mean it must be great to be a couple that had dreams together and made plans…together.

“Are you nervous about seeing Easton?” she asked quietly.

I nodded, fidgeting with a strand of hair that wasn’t behaving. “What if he brought a date?” I asked. “I don’t know if I could maintain.”

“Sure you could, Darce,” she said, encouragingly. “But I’m betting he’s not going to do that. I don’t care how much of a prick he’s been, I think it’s a defense mechanism with him.”

“You do?” I asked, frowning.

“Well,” she giggled, “Taz actually thinks that and I figure since my hubby is the psychological expert in the family, he might be right.”

“He said that, huh?”

“Yep,” she replied, nodding. “He thinks Easton’s mother did a number on him while growing up, big time. He definitely knows firsthand how she used him against Taz’s father. He says that Easton has a textbook fear of commitment with a self-loathing undertone.”

“A what?” I asked, turning to look at her.

She shrugged. “I think it means he has low self-esteem from being psychologically battered during his formative years, and a general mistrust of people that try and get close to him, along with an inability to let his guard down.”

I thought about it and it made sense. He sure as hell was private. “Hey Linds,” I said, “Do you think that shit can be passed on through chromosomes?”

“I don’t think that
particular
trait could,” she replied, “but you may want to ask Taz whenever he’s allowed to know about the baby.”

“Well,” I sighed, “we’re ready I guess.”

“Let’s do it,” she said, taking me by the arm. “You’ll be fine.”

The wedding went beautifully. Ronnie was gorgeous in her gown with the long, satin train. Colin looked boldly handsome in his black tuxedo. Ronnie’s two sisters were attendants. I felt Lindsey take my hand when Easton came out from a side door near the front of the church with a groomsman, taking his place next to Colin, as they waited for the bride to arrive on her father’s arm.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him during the entire ceremony, which was fine because no one would notice. It was the only opportunity I’d have to openly gaze at the man who I’d always love no matter what. I felt a tear and then another roll down my cheek as the bride and groom spoke their vows and pledged their love to one another. I’d give anything to have what Ronnie and Colin had.

As the minister blessed them and pronounced them husband and wife, Easton turned, looking out among the throng of people assembled in the church and his eyes found mine.

He always knew how to catch me staring…

I felt my cheeks flush, but still I couldn’t…wouldn’t look away.

“Easton’s staring at you,” Lindsey whispered, her hand over her mouth.

“I know,” I replied trying to say it without moving my lips.

He finally tore his gaze away as the ceremony ended and exit song started signaling the wedding party to retreat back down the aisle.

The club where the reception had been booked was decorated in the wedding colors, with a live band ready to play, and tables of catered food being served.

There were way more tables set than needed to accommodate those guests at the church, and by the time Lindsey and I arrived, the main room was starting to get crowded.

“I guess a lot of invitees came here instead of the church,” she commented as a hot dude with a British accent brushed against her on our way to a table, giving her a wink and a polite, “Sorry about that, love,” as he did.

We found the place cards with our names on them at a table in the center. “God, I hope we aren’t sitting with a bunch of losers,” I mumbled.

“Shhh,” Lindsey, admonished. “You need to lighten up, Darce. This is a happy occasion, remember?”

“Maybe for them, but not for me,” I replied, pulling a chair out for myself. “Oh Christ,” I said, spotting a place card with a name I recognized at our table.

“Hey,” Lindsey interrupted my glowering at the place card, “will you stop reciting the cast and crew members of the Bible, already? We just came from a wedding. And judging from the glares that lady over there, who happens to look like she may have known Jesus
personally
, is giving us, I’m thinking she’d probably like to
smite
you before they start serving wedding cake.”

I held up the place card.

“What?’ she hissed, clearly not catching onto the name written down on the offensive card.

“Lacee. You know—Lacee
Fitz-friggin’-gerald?
” Geez, it was hard to yell while whispering, but my best friend seemed to finally understand. “What the hell did I ever do to Ronnie to deserve this?” I asked Lindsey, who was now giving me a firm evil eye.

“Darcy, stop it,” she warned, taking the place card from me and positioning it back on the table. “Make the best of it, okay? I mean, you work with her and she’s known Colin longer than you, so deal with it. They probably put her here because she knows you and she kind of knows me a little even,” her voice trailed off.

“Ahh, yes. How could I forget that whole ten minutes you spent with her at
your
rehearsal dinner?”

“I’m going up to the bar. Do you want anything?”

“How about a Royal Fuck?” I asked, with a pout forming on my lips.

“Yeah, got it,” she said, heading over to the bar. She returned a couple of minutes later with a Sloe Screw Up Against the Wall for her and a Virgin Daiquiri for me.

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