Baiting the Maid of Honor

“Don’t tempt fate.”

“Oh, he speaks.”

“I was getting there.” Colton turned away, but Reed caught his smile and made a sound of disgust in response. “So if I’m hearing you correctly, this girl makes you want to get yourself stabbed.”

“This is why I don’t talk much.”

Colton laughed. “All right, I’ll be serious. Keep going.”

“You were expecting more?” Reed sighed. “You two idiots? I had no problem figuring out. The academy was physical work. That, I understood, no problem. With Julie…” He shook his head. “On the surface, I know anything between us is impossible. But I think it might be twice as impossible for me to stay away. To…let her walk.”

“First of all…the girl is Julie?”

Reed nodded once.

“Maid of honor. Nice.” He offered his hand out for a fist bump, which Reed ignored. “Why is it impossible?”

Reed snorted, but Colton merely raised an eyebrow. “Remember that summer Brock’s mother played the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack nonstop? Just on a constant loop. Morning until night. Then she made us sit with her and watch the old black-and-white movie version?”

“Pure, unadulterated torture.”

“Right. Well Julie is Christine and I’m the Phantom. Minus the mask.”

“And the singing ability.”

“Fine. You get what I’m saying.”

“I get it, sure.” Colton shrugged. “I just don’t agree.”

Reed grunted. “People would wonder what the hell she’s doing with me.”

“Since when do you give a damn what people think? And by the way, everyone wants Christine to end up with the Phantom. They’re soul mates, man.”

“I’m beginning to regret this metaphor.”

The two friends walked in silence for a moment. “Have to say, I never expected to find myself on a romantic morning walk with Reed Lawson. Discussing musical theater of all things.”

“Well, congratulations. You can cross it off your bucket list.” He shot Colton a look. “And quit smiling.”

Colton barked a laugh. “Final word of advice before I leave you to commune with nature.” He pulled Reed to a stop. “Don’t leave anything unsaid. Women might say they like mysterious men, but that’s only in the beginning. Soon enough, they start hating the mystery. They want what you’re thinking translated into three different languages.” He took a deep breath. “Tell her what you’re thinking. Doesn’t matter if you think it sounds stupid. Just get it out there. Hell, sometimes it’s even the right thing. And when that happens…” Colton slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s like Christmas morning and Super Bowl Sunday wrapped up in one.”

Reed hid his amusement. “Who could pass that up?”

“Exactly.” Colton glanced over his shoulder. “I better head back. Kady is probably looking for me.”

“Don’t keep her waiting, then.”

“Oh, I won’t.” Colton started back in the direction they came. After a few steps, he stopped. “Hey Reed.” He appeared to be searching for the right words. “When you think she deserves someone better? When you can’t imagine being the one who actually gets to keep her? That’s how you know you’re the one who deserves her. Not some asshole in a puffy shirt carrying a sword.”

“This conversation never took place.”

Colton jogged backward down the path singing “Think of Me,” Brock’s mother’s favorite song from the Phantom soundtrack. Reed flipped him the bird, but as soon as Colton disappeared from view, he couldn’t help but laugh under his breath.

…

Julie raised a hand to knock on Christine’s door just as it opened and a resigned-looking Tyler exited. She started to ask him if everything was all right, then thought better of it. Obviously, something had gone wrong between the two. Best not to pry. Or get involved and make it worse.

“Tyler, is there anything I can do for you? You look downright exhausted and no wonder. Carrying Christine like a bona fide hero through the woods. I’d imagine you’re about ready to drop.”

He gave a halfhearted attempt at a smile, but there was an unholy suffering in his eyes. “I’m fine, really.”

She patted him on the arm. “I’ll make sure she’s all right. Go take care of yourself.”

“Will you call me if she needs me? Or pretends she doesn’t, but really does?”

“Absolutely.”

Tyler hesitated, but turned and left. Julie watched him walk off, obviously under the weight of a heavy heart. She understood how he felt. Since her and Reed’s argument in the woods, she’d been burdened by a yawning, empty feeling in her stomach. Watching him disappear from the lobby had only made it worse. While she felt certain her actions were for the best, it didn’t stop the dull, insistent ache from spreading the longer she went without seeing him. If anything, the churning feeling should strengthen her resolve. If she felt this terrible after only a few days with Reed, allowing their affair to last through the week would prove infinitely worse. The assurance did nothing to quash the urge to go find him. Apologize for her harsh parting words. Apologize for saying one thing and communicating another with her body. For everything.

Attempting to focus, Julie pushed the door open and slipped inside. Christine lay on the bed, ankle propped on a pillow, one arm flung over her eyes.

“I told you to leave,” she said tearfully.

Julie winced. “Hey, sweetie. It’s just me.”

“Oh.” Christine quickly swiped at her eyes. “Hey, Julie. Come on in.”

“If this is a bad time—“

“No!” Eyes toward the ceiling, she blew out a shaky breath. “Actually, I could really use the company. I feel like such a clumsy idiot. Anything you can do to take my mind off this would be much appreciated.”

She held up a white box and shook it. “Fudge squares?”

“Bingo.”

Julie sank down on the end of the bed and toed her shoes off. “Truth be told, even world-class athletes sprain their ankles, Christine. And they don’t look half as good doing it.”

“I was distracted,” she mumbled around a fudge square. “And stupid.”

“I can relate.”

“Reed as difficult as he looks?”

Her head whipped around. “Why do you assume—oh, forget it. Everyone knows, don’t they?”

Christine responded by popping another piece of fudge into her mouth.

Julie debated for a moment over whether or not to disclose the entire story to Christine. If you can’t tell your best friend you’ve fallen for an impossible man who spanks your lady parts, who can you tell?

She sent Christine a sly smile. “Remember that guy in college? Bobby Cox was his name. He brought me flowers and took me for a helicopter ride on our second date. Brought along wine and had the pilot play a Norah Jones CD to get me in a kissing mood. Remember?”

Christine sighed dreamily. “Political science major. Blond. Yeah, I remember.”