Prologue
7 years ago
This was the stupidest idea I’d ever had.
Technically, it wasn’t my idea, it was J.J.’s. My brother, bless his heart, had lots of ideas. And, as usual, he’d gotten me in over my head. It had been this way our entire lives. My big brother would have a brilliant plan but I was the one who got bitten on the ass by it.
Why did I never learn my lesson, you ask?
For all his troublemaking ways, I loved J.J. and he loved me. Although he was three years older than me, we were a team. And even when everything went pear-shaped, J.J. was never malicious in his intentions. His strategies just tended to be...flawed.
If I was going to blame anyone for this disaster, it probably should be Leanne, J.J.’s ex-girlfriend of exactly 48 hours. She’d dumped him when he made it crystal clear that he had no interest in proposing to her. Not that I blamed him. She was kind of annoying. Though I really wished he’d broken the news after the wedding because it would have saved me from his harebrained idea. Not his wedding because, as I said, he didn’t want to marry Leanne.
The plan?
Oh, nothing much. I just had to be his plus one for his best friend’s wedding. Sounds easy, right?
He promised to sneak me champagne during the reception in return for me saving him from any rabid bridesmaids. I explained that rabies was an unlikely problem among women in their mid-twenties but he’d insisted. When he’d thrown in a hundred bucks on top of that, I’d decided to do him a solid. I was a twenty-year-old college student and a hundred dollars would buy me a lot of ramen. Or burritos from my favorite food truck near campus.
Now that I was here, I realized my mistake. I should have charged him three hundred. Brody might be J.J.’s best friend but he and I didn’t get along. At all. And I kind of hated his stuck-up family. They thought that being the wealthiest people in our little town made them above everyone else and they never let me, or my brother, forget it.
Brody didn’t think he was better than us. He just lived to irritate me. I’d had a huge crush on him when I was younger but that had died a swift and bloody death during my freshman year of high school. For no good reason, Brody had suddenly started treating me differently, giving me hell every time he saw me. And I gave it right back because McClanes didn’t tolerate nonsense, good-natured or otherwise. Yeah, fun times.
He’d graduated the next year and I’d only seen him a handful of occasions since. He and J.J. had gone to the same college so he rarely spent time at our house when he came back to town to visit his family.
But today was his wedding day and his blushing bride, a girl he’d met in college, had insisted they have the wedding at the local country club because the grounds were "just so quaint”.
Anyway, back to J.J.’s brilliant plan that led to my current predicament. His bestie Brody Boy was completely and utterly shitfaced. There was no other word for it.
At the moment, Brody had his head in the toilet as he puked his guts up. J.J., the awesome friend that he was, gave verbal encouragement from a few feet away. I leaned against the wall in the men’s room, studying my pretty peach pedicure. Sparkly.
When the sounds of illness subsided, J.J. carefully removed Brody’s tux jacket.
“Uh, man, you got a little, uh, stuff on this. I’m gonna go try to clean it up.”
Oh, hell no. This was my chance to escape, vomit notwithstanding. I straightened and held out a hand. “That’s okay, I’ll do it.”
Just as I said this, Brody heaved again.
My big brother, my once favorite person, screwed me over without a second thought. “No, no, I’ll do it. Will you just, um, keep an eye on him?”
Said eye twitched and J.J. put his hands together in a prayer-like fashion. “Please, Cam. If his mom finds out what’s happening, there’ll be hell to pay.”
And no doubt I would end up paying it. That’s how it always seemed to work out in these situations.
“Fine,” I sighed. “But you’re taking me out to dinner at Torino’s before you head back to the city on Monday.”
J.J. winced. Torino’s was a fabulous Italian restaurant three towns over. It was expensive and my favorite item on the menu was the lobster linguine which also happened to cost more than anything else except for the steaks.
“Cam,” he whined.
“Keep it up and I’ll order a steak just to spite you.”
“Okay, okay. Torino’s tomorrow.”
I took a step back and leaned against the wall as J.J. darted out the door. I tried to ignore the sounds of Brody hurling up all the whiskey he’d consumed but it was difficult.
Finally, after one final spasm, he groaned and collapsed on his ass.
“This sucks,” he moaned.
“For both of us, I’m sure,” I shot back.
Brody twisted and his gaze landed on me. “Who are...“ he trailed off, squinting at me and tilting his head. “Shit, Cami, I didn’t recognize you.”
I nearly rolled my eyes but refrained. Didn’t recognize me? He’d known me since I was eight for crying out loud.
“I clean up okay,” I replied dryly.
My sarcasm flew right over his head. Brody hauled his body up and stood on weak legs. Since he was wearing only a thin dress shirt and snug tuxedo trousers, I could see that his once somewhat lanky frame had filled out. And then some.
Brody staggered over to the sink and rinsed his mouth out with water. Then he reached into the little Dopp kit on the counter next to him and withdrew a toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste.
I tried not to watch as his broad shoulders flexed beneath the fine material of his shirt. Or stare at the way his ass filled out his pants. Damn, he no longer resembled the teen boy I’d crushed so hard on. He was a man.
Brody Murphy was a nice-looking male specimen, despite his jerky ways.
Once his teeth were brushed, he rinsed his mouth with some mouthwash he’d pulled out of the kit, splashed his face with cool water, and grabbed a handful of paper towels to dry off.
Only then did he look at me and say, “You always looked more than okay to me.”
I cocked my head and crossed my arms over my chest but said nothing. Well, not aloud. I let my face do all the talking in this case.
Brody mimicked my gesture, leaning his hips back against the counter. If I hadn't witnessed him doing the technicolor yawn a few minutes ago, I wouldn't even know that he was wasted. “What? You think I’m lying?”
“Uh, yes. Yes, I do. I mean, you are the one who started calling me Flatty Cami my freshman year.”
Brody scoffed. “How many times do I have to tell you I had nothing to do with that? And that was six years ago! Why won’t you let it go?”
“Maybe I just like holding a grudge.”
Brody laughed. “You’ve always had a contrary streak.”
That might be true but he had no business commenting on it.
“So, why did you decide your wedding day was a good time to get trashed?” I asked, changing the subject with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.
Brody blinked at me and, for a split second, he looked almost vulnerable. Then the wall slammed down and his expression turned nonchalant.
“Just celebrating a little too much, a little too early.”