Yours Impatiently (Letters from the heart series Book 2)

Chapter 1 – Happy Little Chicken.

It’s the perfect summer day: birds singing, people smiling, not a cloud in the sky as I stroll through the best city in the world—New York City.

To top it off, my best friends are getting married in Barbados in two weeks. What’s not to love, right?

Me—the best fucking man, who has no clue on what I am supposed to be doing.

Stress pulses through my head and I pinch my brows. How the fuck am I to pull this off?

Bachelor party, speech, gift, tux pickups… When will I get this all done? My phone vibrates, pulling me out of my thoughts, so I grab it out of my pocket and see “Maxi-Pad” dance across the screen. It’s all under control, I tell myself.

A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, and I hit the green answer button. It’s the maid of honor.

“Hello, mysterious lady, how can I be of service to you today?”

“Give it up, asswipe!” she bites out. “Can’t you answer the phone like a normal human being for once?”

I huff a quick laugh. “Noooooo, never.”

“For fuck’s sake, Colton, you know Hallie’s started cracking the whip, right?”

“She’s got a whip, you say, little minx. Damn, Logan’s a lucky man.”

Max curses under her breath, praying for God to help her out, so I bark out a laugh.

“Would you stop panicking, woman! I have this all under control.” I think?

“You better, Colton! Where are you, anyway?”

“Just entering the library.”

There is a long pause before her hyena laugh comes through the phone, and I have to pull it away before my eardrums burst.

“Oh my God, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever pictured, tell me you’re being serious.”

After taking a deep long breath, I say, “Yes, Maxi-Pad. Now, I am a busy man, so bye, babe.” In the middle of her screaming for me to not call her that, I hang up. I can’t help but grin as I stuff my phone back into my front suit pocket. Although I’ve only known her a short while, Maxine Willars is one of my best friends and has to be the easiest person on the planet to piss off.

Snapping back to reality, I scan the aisles of books. Where the fuck am I supposed to find a book about weddings in here?

Truth is, I am way out of my league and comfort zone. I have no fucking clue what a best man’s job is, and as easy and straightforward as a good old Google search made it seem, I still don’t feel like I’ve grasped how to be the best, best man Logan—the groom, my cousin, and oldest friend—needs me to be.

Plastering on my sexiest smile, I wander my way over to a slender, cute blonde standing behind a wooden desk in the middle of the room. Maybe she could help?

“Hey there, doll, think you could help me out?” I ask.

She slowly raises her head from the computer screen with a murderous look on her face, and I can’t help but smile. She’s gorgeous.

“Excuse-fucking-me?” she growls. Not your typical librarian, but what do I know, I never come into these places.

I laugh. “Uhh, I asked if you could help me out?” I smile again.

Her brows furrow as she looks around her as if she’s searching for another employee.

She meets my eyes again. “I don’t work here, doooooll.” Her strong British accent accentuates each word out of her mouth. Huh, how about that!

“You sure?”

Her bright-blue eyes widen, she grinds her teeth, and sighs. Then she mutters, “Don’t entertain it. Don’t fucking do it to yourself.”

She grits out, “I. Do. Not. Work. Here. Now, go away.”

I grin. That stick’s stuck right up her ass. “Okay, but you look like you do work here.

Aaaand I really could do with the help—it’s for charity.”

“Charity?” She arches a brow at me, her tone laced with skepticism.

“Yes, charity, I am the charity and I need help desperately.” I wave my hand in front of my face and pop out my bottom lip, hoping to maybe get a laugh as a reward, but she’s still planning my death, by the looks of it.

She looks back to her computer screen and carries on typing away. “Yeah, I’m gonna pass.”

Well, shit. She’s hard to crack, but luckily for me and unlucky for her, I love a challenge.

“Okay, fine, I’m sorry.” I stick my hand across the desk toward her, and her eyes watch my every move. “I’m Colton Shaw. Can we start over, please?”

“No.”

I pull my hand back and rub the back of my neck. I should take this as my cue to leave and walk away from Miss Moody here, but I’m rooted to the spot for some strange reason. Deciding to go a different route, I pull out my phone and turn the volume up as high as I can before tapping on the app icon for the Happy Little Chicken game.

You’re being a dick, Colton, but so is she.

The chicken tweets loudly from my phone, and I tap each egg that pops up, cracking it to make another chicken appear. It’s a kid’s game, I know, and I only have it for when I’m doing meetings with clients, and they bring their kids with them.

I’ve been the child who was told to sit in the background while the grown-ups talk, and it’s boring. So, I downloaded the game for them to entertain themselves until I have finished with their parents.

I have about fifty chickens chirping loud as fuck on my screen now, and it’s pissing me off. Then luck prevails and Miss Moody bites. “What the actual fuck are you doing? Clearly you don’t know how a fucking library works, do you?” I smile, and her jaw tics.

“Please, pretty please with chickens on top, would you help me find a guide to being a best man?”

Placing both hands on her hips, she tips her head up to the ceiling, her eyes closed as she mutters, “Walk out, run far away, but no he’s …” She opens one eye and scowls before going back to her mumbling, “… most likely to follow you like the creepy weirdo he is.” I should be offended by her words and bad attitude, but it’s kind of endearing.

“Okay, you win, big lad.” She points in my direction. “But let’s get one thing straight, I don’t like you, and after I’ve helped you, I don’t ever wanna see your face again, okay?”

Grinning like I’ve just won the Super Bowl, I wink and say, “Yes ma’am.”