Page 38 of Bridesmaid for Hire
“Well, well, well,” Brody says as he picks up a piece of pineapple and pops it in his mouth. “Aren’t you glad you hitched your wagon to this truck?”
I cross my arms, trying to hide how elated I am with this turn of events. “Aren’t you glad I pretended to be your girlfriend, so you didn’t end up sleeping in a chair last night?”
“You know…I am. Had a nice sleep, got a little crotch rub this morning, and then a killer breakfast. You aren’t too bad after all, Mitchell.”
“What are you doing in there?” Brody complains for the fourth time. “It’s just mimosas by the pool, not tea with the king.”
“I’m trying to pick out a swimsuit that doesn’t show off too much.”
“Just wear a T-shirt or something.”
I partially open the door and stick my head out. “I’m not wearing a T-shirt. You know Haisley and her other bridesmaids are going to look amazing. I can’t be showing up in a freaking T-shirt.”
“Then show me what you have so we can move on. I’ll tell you if it’s too revealing.”
“Ew, I’m not giving you a fashion show.”
“Ew,” he mocks. “I wasn’t asking for one. I just want to get the fuck out of here and into the sun where I can drink my weight in mimosas and erase the memory of you hacking up a hair ball while brushing your teeth this morning.”
“I wasn’t hacking up a hair ball. It’s called clearing the mucus so your breath doesn’t stink.”
“Whatever, just show me the freaking bathing suits.”
Sighing, I open the door the rest of the way and stand in front of Brody in my yellow ruffled two-piece. The bottoms have a scalloped waistline, and the top is comprised of two triangles with ruffles, but the triangles are, again, small, showing off a nice view of cleavage and side boob.
“Is it too revealing?”
Brody is sitting on the bed, and I watch him slowly lean back onto his hands and check me out. “I mean…you look hot. Is that what you were going for?”
Oh my God, did he just call me hot?
I feel my cheeks flame from the compliment. Brody McFadden doesn’t say things like that to me.
He’s more along the lines of…the yellow of your swimsuit reminds me of the bird turd I almost stepped in on my morning walk. Not…you look hot.
Flustered, I say, “I’m going for, uh…sophisticated.”
He shakes his head. “Nope, not sophisticated. Your tits look too good for sophisticated.”
Ignore the compliment.
Ignore it.
“Ugh,” I groan. “This is my least revealing one.”
His brows shoot up. “You know, on the other hand, I wouldn’t mind a fashion show.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be a pig.”
I walk over to the closet where I grab the matching sarong. “It will have to do. I don’t want to be late, so come on.”
“I’ve been ready. Don’t tell me to come on. I’ve been waiting on you.” He walks up next to me and takes my hand in his. I quickly swat him away.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Uh, escorting my girlfriend to the pool, or did you forget the fact that you made that claim last night?”
“I’d never forget that, but we’re behind closed doors, so there’s no need to touch me.”
