Chapter 13 Gaslighting the Bad Girl #2
He turns back to me, frowning as he silently asks me what the fuck all this is about.
“This is a me thing. Not a you thing. I love you, and I love Trista. And I love—” my voice catches in my throat “—I love lil
Stevie. No matter what bullshit I might say in the heat of a moment, please don’t ever doubt that.”
Wyatt finally relaxes and nods, cupping his hand behind my neck and yanking me in for a hug. He claps my back, and I hate
how much he even feels like our dad. It makes me wish he was here more than ever. When I pull away, I look down to hide the tears in my eyes.
“We all miss him,” Max says, stepping in close and putting his hand on my shoulder.
And in a breath, I’m wrapped up in a hug by all three of my brothers as we mourn the man who should be here still to knock
some sense into us.
“Dammit, now I have to go touch up my makeup,” Mom blubbers from behind us.
We spread apart as she wipes away the tears running down her face. I reach out and yank her into the center of our group embrace,
causing her to squeak as we all squeeze her tiny frame a bit too hard. We’re dysfunctional at times, but no matter what, we’re
still always family.
Dakota
“I, Trista, take you, Wyatt, to be my lawfully wedded husband...”
Trista and Wyatt exchange vows in front of a stunning pink-and-purple sunset. They stand beneath an archway draped with hanging
white flowers and twinkle lights. Everything is perfect. From Trista’s simple, yet stunning white dress that showcases her
beautiful body, to baby Stevie in a white fluffy dress lying in a wagon wrapped in flowers and tulle parked right beside her.
Even Ethan is on his best behavior as the ring bearer, standing up by his uncle proudly in a matching cream linen suit and
holding the rings in an adorable mini toolbox that Everly decorated for the big day.
It’s all so beautiful.
And if I continue gaslighting myself like this, I can even believe that maybe these two got it right. Maybe they will make
it the long haul. Maybe they won’t end up like me, hating everything about the person they married because somehow, he made
you lose sight of the person you once were. The person you were proud to be.
I will definitely not be giving a toast at the reception tonight.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
A low rumble sounds from Wyatt’s chest as he pulls Trista in close to his side in a dramatic dip. She squeals, her foot kicking up just before their lips connect in a passionate kiss that isn’t at all like the one I had on my wedding day.
Randal winced when we kissed. Literally winced because he had a split lip and a black eye. And there I was in a mediocre wedding
dress purchased off the rack that countless other brides-to-be had tried on before me.
If those weren’t signs that our marriage was doomed from the start, I don’t know what was.
We make our way from the wedding ceremony area on the courtyard over to the black-and-white checkered dance floor that’s laid
out by the pool. The sun is nearly gone as the music swells for Wyatt and Trista’s first dance.
He sweeps her into his arms, pulling her close as we all huddle around to watch them. My eyes find Calder’s across the floor
and look away when he looks at me. We haven’t spoken a word since that ugliness this morning, and it’s probably for the best.
We don’t need our negative energy to ruin the beautiful evening ahead of us.
Stevie lets out a wail from her grandmother’s arms, breaking through the music, and Wyatt and Trista both turn with big smiles
on their faces. How a crying baby makes them both happy is a bit puzzling, but Wyatt twirls his bride over to her daughter
where Trista scoops Stevie up, holding her close as he takes both his girls out on the dance floor. Stevie settles instantly.
Okay, no gaslighting here... That’s cute as shit.
My eyes sting as I watch Wyatt press his lips to his daughter’s head and then to his wife’s temple. He’s the grumpiest of
all the Fletcher brothers, but the grin on his face right now seems to be healing whatever scowl that man has had most of
the years I’ve known him. Maybe these two will be the lucky ones.
Max and Cozy sure seem to be making it work, too.
They married around the same time as Randal and I. I thought the four of us would be best newlywed friends, but with Cozy having Ethan so soon after they were married, and Randal working evenings while Max had his corporate day job, we were all on very different schedules and life patterns.
Perhaps another sign I ignored.
I turn on my heel and make my way over to the bar, desperate for a drink. Going to a wedding before the ink was dry on my
divorce papers probably wasn’t the brightest choice I ever made. Self-reflection is a painful bitch.
“Champagne, please,” I say to Carlos who’s manning the bar. That guy is everywhere.
“I’ll take a beer when you have a sec,” a deep voice says from behind me, and goose bumps erupt over my skin.
I turn to take in the sight of Calder standing far closer to me than is necessary. His scent of soap, cologne, and whatever
natural musk he emits draws me in, and I have to force myself to look away because, dammit, he looks good in that cream suit.
His white shirt is partly unbuttoned to show off his tan, and his eyes are sparkling with mischief that I cannot get sucked
into.
“Evening, Ace,” he says, reaching around to grab both of our drinks from Carlos. He hands me my champagne flute and holds
his bottle of beer in front of his lips as his eyes drift down my body. “You look very nice tonight.”
I fight the urge to tug at my deep blue off-the-shoulder midi dress. It’s formfitting, and the ruffles around my arms add
a touch of drama to go with my long blond curls and wedge heels that bring me up to Calder’s chin. I evaluated myself in the
mirror today and knew I looked good , which is good because I need all the confidence I can muster around this infuriating man.
“You look nice too.” I sip my drink and look out at Wyatt as the music shifts, and he begins dancing with his mother.
Calder mock-gasps. “Holy shit balls, was that a compliment?”
I narrow my heavily made-up eyes at him. I did a smoky brown shadow to make my blue irises pop—not that I want Calder of all
people to notice.
His shock turns into a lascivious smirk as he matches my pose on the bar to watch Wyatt and his mom on the dance floor. “Is that compliment your pathetic excuse for an apology?”
My brows knit together. “What do I have to be apologizing for, exactly?”
“For waking up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”
I take a deep breath, trying to keep my cool because we’re in public and Carlos is perched at the end of the bar listening
to our entire conversation. “I woke up on the right side. It was you that woke up on my side that set me off.”
He grunts and takes a long drink of his beer. “So I suppose I’ve lost my coveted thirty-three percent of the bed and it’s
back to the mattress of nails for me.”
“You can have the bed. I’ll take the sofa.”
A deep noise vibrates in his throat. “That’s not happening.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Calder.”
“Satan.”
“Hi, guys!” Everly’s voice chimes in as her blond, bubbly energy interrupts our quiet squabbling. “It’s time for all of us
to join them on the dance floor. Let’s go!”
“Oh... you two go ahead.” I wave Everly and Calder off as she begins dragging him out by the wrist. “I’ll hang back here
with Carlos.” I turn around and frown when I see that Carlos has vanished.
“Just one dance,” Everly says as she uses her free hand to grab my arm, barely giving me a chance to set my drink down.
I smile stiffly at Cozy as she walks out onto the dance floor with Max. She gives me a sympathetic smile as she threads her
hands around Max’s neck.
With a devious grin, Everly puts my hand inside Calder’s. “You two go ahead and get started. I need to go track down Ethan!
He’s probably over by the cake.”
I fight the urge to yank my hand away from Calder’s big paw.
I don’t want to look like a petulant child as all eyes focus on us.
Wyatt is with his bride, Max with Cozy, Luke with Addison, and Johanna is sitting at a table feeding Stevie a bottle and smiling at all the happy couples on the dance floor.
This is so embarrassing.
Calder laughs and jerks me in close, causing me to fall into him as our bodies press together. His breath is warm on the shell
of my ear as his other palm snakes around my waist. “Now is your chance to run, Ace. I’m getting my cooties all over you again.”
The chill that runs up my spine at the warmth of his body next to me is unnerving, but I give a surrendering exhale and allow
myself to embrace the man who drives me crazy and put on a show for the sake of the happy wedding. “Just try not to pet my
head again, cat daddy.”
His chest vibrates against mine as he laughs and moves me around the dance floor with more grace than I would have given this
meathead credit for.
After a moment of awkward silence, he asks, “Was today hard?”
“What do you mean?” I pull back so I can look up at him for explanation. His green eyes smolder and make my stomach flip,
so I quickly move in close again to look over his shoulder.
“Watching them get married today,” he murmurs into my ear. “Did it remind you of your wedding?”
I frown at that pointed question. “No.”
He pulls back to look at me, his silence speaking volumes.
“My wedding was nothing like this.”
He nods and resumes our dance. “What was your wedding like? Your contractor’s invitation must have got lost in the mail.”
I roll my eyes up to the starry sky. “You wouldn’t have come anyways.”
“Sure, I would have.”
“Oh really?” I quirk a brow up at him.
“Yes,” he replies with a sexy smirk. “Weddings are a great place to meet chicks.”
“Jesus.” I shake my head and laugh. “Always on the prowl. I should tell Trista you’re more of a tomcat than a rottweiler.”
“Definitely,” he hums in my ear, and the shiver that runs down my spine has to be obvious to him.
Silence descends for a moment, and I lick my lips, fighting the weird sensation humming in my veins. Being in this man’s arms
should be giving me hives, and yet, I feel good. Which is so nuts because I lashed out at him viciously this morning. Seriously,
you can tell my period is coming because I was feral.
But right now... I don’t hate being pressed up against him. Not that that means anything. It’s just because Calder isn’t disgusting to look at and it’s pleasant to be held by a non-disgusting man after
going so long without.
Objectively, all four Fletcher brothers are handsome in their own ways, so I could feel the same if any of one of them were
dancing with me.
Though admittedly, Calder is the most striking of the four. Sharp chiseled facial features, narrow striking eyes that pierce
right through you, and a body that could put fitness trainers to shame. And his musk... it’s shamefully growing on me.
It’s a damn shame all that beauty is wasted on such an obnoxious personality.
“So... what was your wedding like?” Calder asks, resuming his earlier inquiry.
“Messy.” I reply honestly.
He looks down at me with a frown.
“Randal got into it with some drunk guy at the bar a couple days before our wedding, so he was all banged up.”
“Really?” Calder huffs, his brows furrowed.
“Yeah, the asshole was belligerent and took a swing at him as Randal was kicking him out. Made for some really nice wedding
photos that we never got around to retaking. On top of that, my parents were at each other’s throats... and well...
you know about my dress issue.”
He tenses at the mention of that.
I shake my head because I promised myself a few nights ago: I am not going to be that whiney divorcée making comparisons about
a day I’d rather forget. It was a day I deeply regret, and today is nothing like that, so why taint it with memories of mistakes?
“I’d really rather not talk about this.”
“Fair enough,” Calder agrees as he moves in close again, swaying to the music. “You know, if you want, we could cut out of
here early and go find a sex club. I bet Carlos could point us to some wild fucking haunts around these parts. He’s probably
a wicked Dom.”
I burst out laughing and when everyone’s heads snap in our direction, I quickly stifle my amusement into Calder’s shoulder.
“Maybe your mom could give us a ride.”
He shakes in silent laughter, and it feels good. Too good. Calder is a man I need to keep at arm’s length... which is hard to do when I feel incredible wrapped up in his ink-draped
arms on this dance floor. But I need to remember that tomorrow everything will go back to normal, and I have to pick up the
pieces of my life. Letting someone like Calder get under my skin isn’t a good idea. He’s definitely got a case of Peter Pan
Syndrome, never wanting to grow up, and I’m all done raising boys.
The music ends and we pull away, both of us staring curiously at the other. Calder opens his mouth to speak, but the music
shifts to something fast, and I breathe a sigh of relief when Cozy pulls me away to dance with her.
Dancing is good. Not talking to Calder is good. Keeping my distance from him... is good.
But damn, do I have a tiny urge to be bad.