Wedding Date (Dating #6) - Monica Murphy Page 0,18

is fun, am I right?”

“That’s one way to describe it.” I’m hungry, and the salad is delicious. So is the beautiful woman sitting across from me. Something must be in the air tonight, because just like the server, I can’t stop eye-fucking Kelsey either. Her arms are exposed thanks to the sleeveless black shirt she’s wearing. The shirt is sheer and covered with tiny white dots. Sheer as in I can see the black bra she’s wearing beneath it, and the way her breasts strain against the fabric.

I take another gulp of wine, needing the alcohol to fortify me.

After both of us devour the salad—it was pretty good, plus we got competitive, our forks banging against each other as we strived for that last bite—we decide to tackle the octopus. It’s actually pretty damn delicious, and we’re laughing as we cut into the tentacle, both of us lamenting the death of the octopus.

“Normally I don’t eat this sort of thing,” Kelsey says, resting her fork on the edge of the plate.

“Me either. I like seafood, though.” Thank God, considering there’s so much of it where we live and it’s always fresh.

“Same.” She takes another drink of her wine. “You never did tell me how your day went.”

“Have I got a story for you.” I fill her in on Craig’s surprise visit to my office. How casual he acted, like it was no big deal that he showed up like he did. And then I hit her with the big bombshell at the end—him asking me to be a groomsman.

Kelsey’s brown eyes go wide and her glossy lips part. “He did not.”

I nod. “He sure as hell did. Can you believe it?”

“No.” She shakes her head, her expression darkening. “He has a lot of nerve.”

I love that she looks ticked on my behalf. “I know. He’s a dick.”

“He so is,” she says vehemently. “That’s why you should agree to do it.”

It’s my turn for my mouth to drop open. “What the hell? Did you just say I should be a groomsman?”

I’m spelling it out, just to make sure.

“Yes. You totally should.” Her expression turns haughty. Damn, she’s pretty. “Show them you’ve got class, Theo.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.” I let my fork drop so it clangs against the plate and I cross my arms. I feel like I’m five.

She bursts out laughing. “Of course you don’t want to. But you should agree to do it anyway. Show them both you’re mature, and you’ve got a handle on your emotions. Don’t let them rattle you.”

I consider what she says for all of about five seconds. “Yeah. Not gonna do it.”

“Oh come on.” She rolls her eyes. “Show those fuckers you’re over her.”

I say nothing. Just take a swig of my wine. Have another bite of octopus.

“You are over her, right?” Kelsey asks, her expression curious.

My gaze meets her, and I see the faint worry there. Does she think I still have feelings for Jessica? I suppose I do. But none of those feelings involve getting back together with her, or wanting her back. Or even missing her.

“Of course I am. Fuck her. Fuck him too, if I’m being real right now.” I shake my head. Wipe my lips with my napkin. “I hate that he can just come into my office and disrupt my day like he did.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure you do,” Kelsey says carefully. “That’s why it would be smart if you did agree to be a part of the wedding. That way you could disrupt their special day in your way, you know what I mean? At least for a little while. You’ll be in all the wedding photos, for God’s sake.”

“That’s true. Would she really want me as a reminder for their rest of their days? Making an appearance in their wedding photos?” I let the disgust—and the effects from the wine—wash over me. “I wouldn’t want that sort of reminder personally. That’s why I can’t do it.”

“Oh Theo.” Kelsey smiles, this devious little curl of lips that is evil and sexy, all at once. “Yes, you absolutely can.”

Seven

Kelsey

Theo frowns, completely perplexed by my words, no doubt. “What are you talking about?”

“Be a part of their wedding and let’s put on a real show for them,” I say, my entire body warm and loose from the wine I’ve been drinking. I might be a little buzzed and currently studying the man across from me with alcohol-clouded eyes.

He is so stupidly good-looking in that suit. When did that happen?