Chapter 14
Monica wasn’t so sure about this bachelorette party thing.
First of all, she’d never attended one, so she wasn’t sure what to expect. Strippers? Silly costumes? Everyone getting so drunk they couldn’t walk?
And secondly, she definitely wasn’t thrilled about the sleepover part of the festivities.
In all her thirty years, she’d never had a sleepover…
and she didn’t think staying with Stuart counted.
There was no way she would ever have invited anyone over to her house when she was growing up.
She couldn’t be sure what her father would’ve done, and it wouldn’t have been allowed in the first place.
Besides that, she didn’t have any friends in her youth, anyway.
It was kind of sad that she was thirty years old and was going to have her first sleepover. Stuart had told her if she felt uncomfortable at any time, she could text him and he’d come and get her.
She actually liked Kenna, Lexie, and Elodie.
She didn’t know Ashlyn quite as well, and Kenna had said she hoped her friend Carly would show up, but wasn’t certain she would.
Regardless, with so many questions about Luke Keyes—not to mention this Bull guy—Kenna had vetoed going out to the bars on Waikiki, so now they were just going to hang out at the penthouse she lived in with Aleck.
That was perfectly all right with Monica. Since she didn’t drink, bars didn’t exactly appeal to her.
Stuart pulled up in front of the Coral Springs condo complex and turned to her. “Breathe, Mo. This is supposed to be fun.”
“I know,” she told him.
“Just be yourself. Everyone already knows you aren’t super talkative, and they aren’t going to suddenly expect you to be just because you’re hanging out with them.”
Monica nodded. She knew that. Heck, Elodie, Lexie, and Kenna had all reassured her several times via text that they were looking forward to spending more time with her. And admittedly, if she decided to stay in Hawaii, she wanted to get along with these women.
It was difficult for her to believe she was considering staying because of a man.
It was very unlike her. Then again, Stuart was unlike any guy she’d ever met.
Did she trust him? Not quite…and she felt terrible about that.
But she liked him. A lot. Felt safe—as safe as she could around any man—when she was with him.
But one-hundred-percent, put-her-life-in-his-hands trust him? She just didn’t know.
Monica did know she was likely completely broken when it came to trust. Her father had successfully beaten it out of her over time. If she had to choose one thing she hated him for the most, it was that.
But she was trying. Baby steps. She loved sitting on Stuart’s back deck and chatting about nothing in particular. She liked cooking with him. She really liked kissing him. It would have to be enough…for now.
“Mo?” Stuart said in concern.
She realized she’d been sitting in the car, lost in her head for a beat too long. She turned and gave him a brave smile. “It’ll be fine.”
He reached out and brushed his thumb against her cheek where she knew her dimple was probably showing.
He’d admitted the other night how much he loved it.
She’d always thought it made her look a bit juvenile, but considering the obvious enjoyment he got when he saw it, she was beginning to think it wasn’t so bad.
“Of course it will be. You’re underestimating yourself, and the others. But if at any time you feel uncomfortable, let me know and I’ll come pick you up. Even if it’s two in the morning. I’m serious. Okay?”
“Why do I feel as if I’m eight years old and you’re dropping me off at a party or something?” Monica mumbled.
“I definitely don’t see you as eight years old,” Stuart replied. The passion was easy to hear in his voice, and her body heated in response.
That was another thing that surprised Monica. How much Stuart turned her on. She’d had sex before. It hadn’t been great, and she never understood women in romance novels and movies when they talked about sparks and tingles and wanting someone more than they wanted to breathe.
She was beginning to get it now.
She leaned over the console toward Stuart and he promptly met her halfway. The kiss they shared curled Monica’s toes. Yet another thing she’d never experienced before this man.
He pulled back and caressed her cheek one more time before saying, “Go. Before I kidnap you and take you back to my lair.”
Monica couldn’t help but laugh. “Um…I’m living in that lair,” she told him.
Stuart’s eyebrows went up and down as he drawled, “You live in my house, not in my lair.”
Monica knew she was blushing, so she pushed open her door to try to hide it.
She was becoming comfortable with Stuart’s touches to the point of longing.
He was definitely a touchy-feely kind of man, which thrilled her.
He was constantly reaching for her face, putting his hand on her back, or wanting to hold her hand.
Last night, he’d snuggled behind her on the couch when they were watching TV.
Monica had stiffened at first, but eventually relaxed against him.
She’d only been inside his bedroom once, when she’d gotten a tour of the house.
The thought of him spooning her from behind while in his bed made her cheeks feel even hotter.
Did she want that? Yes. And no. She’d enjoyed his embrace last night more than she’d thought possible…
and suspected the closer she got to this man, the more it would destroy her if things didn’t work out.
She opened the sliding side door to the minivan and grabbed her overnight bag. She stood by the open front passenger window and gave Stuart a small wave. “See you tomorrow.”
“Have fun,” he said. “As you know, I’m headed to Slate’s house with the rest of the guys. We’re gonna have a bonfire on the beach and hang out.”
Monica nodded. Stuart had mentioned his friend had a small house with beach access not too far from Coral Springs. The house was a street over from actually being on the beach, but close enough, and plenty big enough for all the guys to chill comfortably.
She waved one more time and bravely headed toward the doors to the condo complex. Stuart waited until she was actually inside to drive away; it was one more way he always seemed to be watching out for her.
“Hi, you must be Monica,” said an older man sitting behind a security desk inside the large lobby.
“That’s me,” she agreed.
“I’m Robert, and the rest of the ladies are already upstairs. But don’t worry, Ms. Greene just got here, so you aren’t too far behind. If I can have your ID, and if you’ll sign this, we’ll get you on your way.”
Monica was impressed with how efficient the man was, and with the security at the condo complex itself, but she wasn’t really surprised. Kenna had talked a lot about the place, and about Robert and how much he was helping with her upcoming wedding.
In a few minutes, she was on her way up to the penthouse floor in the elevator. Trying not to hyperventilate and telling herself everything would be fine, Monica stepped out of the elevator and headed down the hall toward Kenna and Aleck’s condo.
The door opened before she even got to it.
“Welcome!” Kenna exclaimed. “And before you freak out and think I can see through doors, Robert called and said you were on your way up.” Her smile was large and welcoming, and Monica didn’t see a hint of fakeness.
“Thanks,” she told her.
“I’m so glad you came. I know you might still be a bit uncomfortable with all of us, since you haven’t known us long, but I promise we’re harmless,” Kenna said.
Not giving her a chance to say anything, which was probably good, since Monica didn’t know what to say to that, Kenna reached for her bag.
“I’ll put this here by the door for now and later we can figure out where everyone is sleeping.
” She lowered her voice as if telling Monica a secret.
“But if you want a spot on the balcony, be sure to claim it early, because it’s one of the best places to crash. ”
Monica couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Kenna agreed, beaming. “Come on. Elodie’s in the kitchen trying to figure out the right ratio of margarita mix to tequila, and I have a feeling she’s gonna have us all drunk after one drink if someone doesn’t hold her back. She’s a bit heavy-handed on the alcohol.”
Already feeling a little more comfortable than she thought she would, Monica followed Kenna into the other room. The condo was gorgeous and the view from the balcony was just as amazing as she’d been told it was.
“Monica!” Lexie and Elodie exclaimed when they saw her.
“Hi!” Ashlyn threw in. “Good to see you again.”
“Carly’s not here,” Kenna told her, continuing through the kitchen toward Elodie. “I begged, but she said it was safer for us if she didn’t come. Which is bullshit, but she wouldn’t budge.”
“It was her ex who came to Duke’s with a bomb strapped to him,” Lexie explained to Monica.
“He blew up into a million pieces—which is super gross, though you’d never know it looking at the beach now—but because his son has gone underground and no one can find him, not even Baker—which he’s really pissed about—Carly quit her job and stays locked inside her apartment now, much to Jag’s disappointment. ”
“Wow, was that a long run-on sentence,” Ashlyn teased.
“Hey, you followed along without a problem, right?” Lexie asked. “What does it matter?”
“How much margarita have you already sampled?” Kenna asked with a raised eyebrow.
Lexie giggled. “A bit.”
“Oh, Lord, it’s gonna be a long night,” Kenna said, looking up at the ceiling. “No puking on the carpets. Hear me?” she ordered.
Everyone laughed. “No puking whatsoever,” Elodie countered. “We’re all respectful, mature adults. We don’t need to get shitfaced.”
“Just tipsy,” Lexie said.
“Maybe drunk,” Ashlyn countered.
“Monica’s in charge of the drinks,” Kenna declared.
Monica looked over at her in surprise.