“Because you know I wholeheartedly approve of your burgeoning depravity.”
Nia’s laughter filled the room. Her damp hair hung straight, partially obscuring her smiling, freshly scrubbed face. Even without makeup, she had a glow. Nia always looked pretty, but this morning, especially so.
Sara sat up straight, angling for a closer look. Yup, definitely glowing. “Dude. Are you knocked up?”
“No, definitely not. I mean, I’d love to have a miniature Conn running around, but that would mean giving up some of that depravity you mentioned.” A different variety of color settled across Nia’s fair cheeks. “And I’m quite enjoying this phase of our relationship.”
“Look at you. My sister—the goodie-goodie turned kinky nympho.” She sniffled in a show of mock emotion. “This is such a proud moment for me.”
“Whatever, maniac.” Nia clanged her mug against Sara’s. “Drink up. The breakfast feast is waiting and we’ve got hair and nail appointments in an hour.”
“I’m on it,” she said, tipping the mug to her lips. Whatever Nia wanted today, Sara would nod and hop to it. She’d be Nia’s bitch—and she was nobody’s bitch. Ever.
Nia could have come in here loaded for bear. She certainly had justification. Instead, she’d come in peace. In friendship. The type Sara didn’t deserve after her recent behavior.
She smiled as she and Nia took simultaneous sips, the actions identical in timing and duration. Even the way they scooped a lingering drop of coffee from the rim of the mug matched. For all their differences—and those numbered nearly to infinity—they did share some similarities. Impossible not to after living together for a decade.
“Hey…did I miss anything good last night?” As far as traditional apologies went, this rated pretty high for suckage. But Nia would understand its deeper meaning. She’d always had a wide margin for forgiveness, thank god.
“Hmm…” Nia tapped one waiting-to-be-manicured fingertip on her cheek. “Aside from Curtis and Conn stripping down to their boxers and jumping off the dock for a late-night swim after everybody else had cleared out…no, you didn’t miss a thing.”
Sara’s jaw dropped, literally. Because whoa, the visual. “You’re shitting me.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Nia shrugged and hopped off the bed, a smug smile in place as she tightened the belt of her pink satin bathrobe. “It pays to stick around. You never know what you might miss by skipping out.”
A side-door lecture to match Sara’s indirect apology. “Well played, blondie.”
“Thanks. But I’m still not confirming or denying,” Nia said, playfully shoulder-shoving her as they walked down the hall.
“And I still have seven-or-so hours to tweak my toast for the wedding reception. I’m sure your future in-laws would enjoy that funny story about Zeus howling at the foot of your bed while you and Conn—”
“Yes, they went swimming last night.” The words tumbled from Nia’s mouth as if she couldn’t get them out fast enough. Not surprising, since they’d reached the end of the hall where it joined the edge of the kitchen, and their parents were no more than six feet away, definitely within earshot.
“What had Zeus howling?” Mom looked from their faces to the canine in question, sitting quietly at her side. “I’ve never heard him make a noise inside the house. You must have really thrown him off, whatever you and Conn were doing.”
Nia’s cheeks made the jump from pink to blazing-red. As for her lips, they’d parted, but nothing came out.
Rescue time. “They were trying to make the bed with new sheets that were the wrong size. Tugging them back and forth in what could’ve been an I Love Lucy skit.”
Meredith laughed. “Poor Zeus. He must’ve been so confused.” She patted him on the head and slipped him a piece of cantaloupe from the fruit platter.
“Yeah, I bet he was.” She settled in near the blushing bride-to-be, leaned across the corner of the dining table and whispered, “Kind of ironic that I saved your ass by covering up the story about your ass.”
“Oh my god. I’m never telling you anything ever again.”
Not for the first time—or even the tenth—today, Curtis popped into her head. You sure do throw the ‘never’ and ‘ever’ around a lot.
She hadn’t noticed it until his comment, but she did use those words frequently. So did Nia. Another trait they shared. One of the few, all of them special.
“Hey,” she said, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. “Sorry about yesterday.” She wanted to promise it wouldn’t happen again, but that would end up being a lie. Good intentions never went the distance. She always fucked things up.
Nia’s delicate hand found hers and squeezed. “It’s okay, I get it.”
Of course she did, she’d been there, at Sara’s side, through everything. Sara cleared her throat and nodded. “Good. Great. Now pass the bacon. If I’m going to spend an entire day decked out in pink, I need porkification first.”
“Here you go, pig out.”
“Correction, pig in.” She popped a strip of crispy bacon into her mouth and flipped half a dozen more pieces onto her plate.
Their parents joined them at the table. Despite the hum of excitement surrounding the day, a hint of sadness lingered in her dad’s eyes. She’d put it there, calling him Peter when he’d been the best father a man could be to a child, blood-relation or otherwise. She’d talk to him about it later. A real talk, with feelings and stuff.
But not now. She’d be damned if she ruined another important moment or dragged anybody down today.
“Bacon, Dad?” she asked, offering the platter.
The three-letter word did the trick. His eyes lightened and the mood in the room jumped even higher. This was Nia’s big day, the beginning of her new life. In a way, it felt like a fresh start for Sara too. Another one. Maybe this time she wouldn’t screw it up.
Chapter 4
Curtis
Lawlers didn’t get nervous. They set their minds to a thing and took control, in professional and personal matters. Curtis had been ringside as Conn employed this method in his quest to woo Nia. Given his resourcefulness, patience and determination, Conn’s pretty little neighbor hadn’t stood a chance.
The guy who’d won the blonde was MIA at the moment, however. Conn had barely eaten breakfast, he’d torn the hotel room apart looking for his “lost” tie, and he’d checked his phone more times than he’d blinked. Now he was doing his best to wear a groove in the floor of the pastor’s office. No two ways about it, Conn was nervous.
“How much longer?”
Curtis pushed the cuff of his white dress shirt out of the way. “Not long now. Thirty minutes or so.” Since this was the third time he’d had to answer the same question, his idea of helping Conn relax by getting him to the church early could be classified as a fail.
“Shit. The waiting is killing me.”
Curtis too, though for less romantic reasons. He wore a flak vest for hours at a time and thought nothing of it, yet fifty minutes in a tux had him ready to crawl out of his skin. And the day had only begun. He wouldn’t get to ditch the rental monkey suit for another six hours, minimum. Just thinking about it had him itching to undo the top button of his shirt.