Not Your Average Vixen - Krista Sandor Page 0,100

feeling all eyes on her when Cole’s shriek of a yelp sliced through the heavy silence.

“Pee! I have to pee so bad, Mommy! I can’t hold it much longer!” Cole cried.

Bridget blinked, pulled from the trance of the unexpected envelope, and slid the letter into the pocket of her coat as she went into crisis mode.

The tiny chapel didn’t have running water, let alone a working toilet.

“You didn’t pee before we left?” Denise asked.

The boy stood in the aisle, hopping from foot to foot. “No, I went to tell Uncle Scooter and Birdie it was time to leave. But Uncle Scooter was fixing Birdie’s eye again. He was looking at her real close like when you have to fish an eyelash out of my eyeball. And then we talked about bananas and pants, and I forgot to go potty.”

“There was flour in your eye?” Lori questioned.

Oh no!

“Yes, I must have gotten some flour in my eye, and Scooter was just…” she began, flailing like the awful fibber she was.

“Getting it out,” he finished.

“Yes, that’s right! Getting it out! Just like that.” she answered, like a moron.

“Sounds pretty crazy! Next time you have a flour emergency, you can call me, little lady,” Russ said, most likely in an attempt to be funny.

“Will do,” she replied, again with way too much go, team, go infused into her reply.

Score one point for the creepy uncle coming in handy.

“Mommies!” Cole yelled, clutching his crotch.

Denise patted her son’s back. “I’m sorry, everyone. We better go. Cole did drink a small cup of cocoa before we left, but I didn’t think it would do this.”

“And then he drank mine,” Carly added.

“And mine,” Scott chimed.

Denise eyed her son. “How much cocoa did you drink?”

“A lot!” the boy bit out, squinting his eyes, tightening every muscle in his little body.

Bridget checked her watch. “Everyone should go. The gondola seats ten. Scooter and I will stay behind and close up.”

“Are you sure?” Lori asked.

“We’ll be right behind you, and dinner should be ready any minute.”

“I’m going to pee an entire lake, and then I’m going to eat a little chicken!” Cole said as Nancy zipped the boy’s coat, and everyone quickly filed out to the waiting gondola.

The door banged shut, and she took a moment to pull herself together.

“Leave it to Cole to have a potty emergency,” she said, but Soren didn’t answer.

He stared at the framed doorplate.

“It’s a touching gift. I can see it means a lot to you,” she said gently.

He swallowed hard, the muscles of his neck straining. “I know what I need to do for Tom.”

She wasn’t expecting that. After his somber demeanor at the wedding rehearsal, she couldn’t read him.

“What do you need to do?”

He pulled his gaze from the door plate and caught her eye, then gave her the saddest smile she’d ever seen. “What a best friend should do.”

This must be him coming to peace with Lori and Tom’s marriage. A warmth settled in her chest.

“I should double-check that everything I need for tomorrow is in the storage closet,” she said, heading down the aisle to give him a moment.

He nodded as his gaze slid back to the framed plate.

There honestly wasn’t much to do. She straightened the garlands and arranged the candles. After a few minutes, she felt a rush of cool air and glanced at the door.

Soren stood at the entrance. “It’s a big night. We should head down. I can see the gondola making its way back.”

Look at him! Ready for a big night. She’d give him an even bigger night once all the festivities were over.

She joined him, and they rode down the mountain in a peaceful, easy silence, staring out at the winter wonderland all around them. Life had never felt so full of promise. A new man combined with the newfound desire to take a leap of faith with her career had left her giddy.

“What are you thinking about with that big smile on your face?” he asked.

The mountain house came into view, and she sat back.

What was she thinking?

How her once predictably empty existence now felt new and exciting?

Yes, that was it, exactly.

“I’m thinking about…” she began, then stopped and cocked her head to the side.

“Yes,” he coaxed, but she couldn’t focus on his question.

The front door to the mountain house was wide open and flashing neon lights extended out onto the porch.

There was nothing about neon lights in her rehearsal dinner plan.

The gondola came to a stop, and she hurried toward the house. In

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