Bound to Be His ( The Archer Family 2)

"No, no, I'm fine. Really." She rubbed her shoulders one more time, but just when she was about to release her grip, she felt something warm and soft nudging her arm. She looked down to find Matt’s navy coat in his outstretched hand.

“I said—” she started, but he shook his head.

“Don’t be stupid.” He bumped the coat against her arm again, and she took it with uneasy hands.

“Thanks,” she murmured, and shrugged it on. The inside was lined with fleece, perfect for all the evening or high altitude games he’d had to play on the road. It was more comfortable than she might have expected, and it smelled musky and manly, like crisp autumn leaves and clove. A scent that belonged entirely to Matt.

She breathed deeply without thinking about it, and then, quick to divert his attention, led him down an aisle filled with wedding favors toward the back of the store.

"Damn, you are walking with some serious purpose."

"Lots of practice." She shook her head and did her best to focus on the task at hand. Considering she'd thrown her first bachelorette party at the age of sixteen and had given ten more since then—the vast majority of which had been for her own mother—she was all too familiar with the layout of party stores. Hell, she was pretty sure she could have given an itemized inventory of the place before they'd so much as stepped through the door.

"Right," Matt said, and then stopped in front of a huge rhinestone-encrusted goblet. The jewels on the glass surface read "pimp goblet."

"I need this." Matt picked up the cup and stared at it like he’d never seen anything more beautiful. "This will endear me to America."

"That will endear you to nobody." She rolled her eyes. "Now come on, we don't have all day."

"Oh, but we do. We could be here for as long as we like, with me spending most of that time convincing you that a pimp goblet is exactly what I need."

She motioned silently to the cart, and he dropped it in. "I knew you'd see things my way." He grinned, and for the tiniest fraction of an instant, she had to fight the urge to grin back.

"Okay, now, we need to get this thing going." She started off again, listening carefully all the while to make sure the roll of the cart's wheels behind her didn't halt suddenly. In the darkest corner of the store, far away from everything else, they found the bachelor and bachelorette party supplies.

Shay surveyed them quickly, mentally taking stock of the things people had and hadn't liked when she’d planned parties before. She grabbed a scavenger hunt kit from the wall and tossed it into the cart, and then, with a quick glance at Matt, she took some phallic straws from the shelf and tossed them in, too.

Apparently, though, despite his pimp goblet obsession, he'd been paying closer attention than he'd let on, because he shook his head and pulled them from the cart. "Nope. No. I won't allow it."

"You won't allow it?" She cocked her eyebrow.

"This is my little sister's party. I'm not going to let her drink out of—"

"She's your little sister by two years. That’s hardly anything. I don't think you have the right to weigh in. It's just some stupid fun." Shay rolled her eyes. "You're just jealous because you can't get, I don't know, vagina lollipops or something for Logan."

"Actually..." Matt pointed to one of the lower rows on the shelf, and Shay grimaced. There they were. Vagina pops. Of course, the product's actual name was a little more vulgar.

She shook her head, biting back the urge to wonder aloud what they must taste like, and then grabbed the biggest, sparkly-est tiara from the shelf and tossed it into the cart.

"That's not going to work, either," Matt said.

"Look, do you know how many bachelorette parties I've thrown in my life? There's always a tiara."

"Maybe so, but you've never thrown one for my sister. Can you honestly picture Andy in a tiara?"

Shay frowned. In all the years she'd known Andy Archer, she was never the kind of girl you'd picture in a tiara. Riding a mechanical bull or fixing a tire on the side of the road? Yes. Tiara? Not so

much. In fact, she'd never even seen Andy in shoes besides sneakers before her little makeover the year before.

"Okay," Shay conceded. "Not a tiara. But then what? There has to be a veil."

Matt grabbed a tiny white cowgirl hat from one of the upper shelves. A sparkly white veil hung from the hem of the Stetson, just long enough to cover Andy's hair.

"That's perfect," Shay said.

"Thanks. I get that a lot." He winked and tossed the hat into the buggy.

"Just when you go and start being charming, you ruin it," Shay grumbled.