Page 41 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“Good morning,” Sloane says as she joins me in the kitchen, wearing a long dress that reaches her ankles. It’s dark blue with a gold overlay of cutout flowers. The off-the-shoulder sleeves show off her shoulders and nothing else. I picked the dress out and assumed it wouldn’t make me think about bending her over my desk, but as she floats innocently through the kitchen, I’m quickly realizing it’s not what she wears. It’s just her. “So from the lack of coffee machine, I’m going to assume you don’t make coffee here.”
“Nope,” I answer.
“Okay, um, so is it a no on a coffeemaker? Because, you know, some people might like one.”
“Tell me which one you want, and I’ll get it,” I answer as I finish my protein shake and rinse my cup out in the sink.
“Well, in that case, one of those espresso machines only baristas know how to work.”
I eye her and she laughs, the sound so fucking heavenly. She reaches for a banana and starts to peel it, which is my sign to leave because I don’t need to watch her eat that thing.
“I’m meeting Hardy for breakfast. I won’t be in the office until later, so no need to get me my green drink.”
“Sounds good,” she says, and I glance over my shoulder, where I catch her taking a bite of her banana, but she’s not eating it the way I thoughtshe would. Instead, she’s treating it like a piece of watermelon and eating it horizontally.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask.
She pauses, ready to take another bite. “Eating a banana.”
“I see that, but why the hell are you eating it like that?”
She looks down at the banana boat in her hand and then back at me. “Because I knew if I ate it the other way, you’d moan and groan and envision the banana as your penis and me as the sucker of said penis.”
I nearly choke on my own saliva. “Excuse me?”
“Please, all men do it. Don’t act like you’re innocent. I was saving you just now.” She takes another bite of her banana, and it splits in two.The proper answer would be, thank you.I stand there, stunned, so she continues. “You’re welcome. Anyway, since you’re not in the office this morning, think I could go to my place and pack up some things to bring over here? Maybe show my sister that I survived the night despite you constantly kicking me?”
My eyes narrow. “I didn’t kick you, did I?”
She smiles and pops one of the banana halves in her mouth. “No, but it’s nice that you’re concerned. For a second there, I thought you were a robot.” My face falls flat, which makes her laugh. “So is that a yes on gathering my items?”
“Yes,” I answer and then head toward the garage. “I’m taking my car. Bart is out front, so he’ll drive you wherever you need to go. After work, we’ll go to dinner together.”
“Oh, is that right?” she asks. “You’re just going to tell me what we’re going to do?”
“Yes.” I pick up my car key, stick my wallet in my pocket. “See you at the office.”
“Hey,” she calls out and walks up to me. She pauses, then slips her hand behind my neck, pulls me down to her, and then, to my surprise, she kisses me on the nose. When she releases me, she says, “Nose kiss,”as if it’s a funny inside joke. “Have a great day, Husband. See you in the office.” Then she twiddles her fingers at me and goes back to the kitchen.
Christ. Out of all the women…she’s the one I married.
Great, Hudson.
Really great.
Think of the property purchase. This is only temporary. You can stick this out for a month.
“I swear to Christ, I keep unsubscribing, but no matter what I do, those fucking flamingo emails keep coming in,” Hardy says as he stabs his eggs with his fork.
“It’s because you keep donating,” I say to him as I lean back in my chair, my food barely touched.
“It’s hard not to when JP makes such a compelling argument about the damn birds.” Hardy leans forward and whispers, “I donated to the pigeons too.”
“Dude.”
“I know,” he groans. “Fuck, but the email had a picture of a once-domesticated pigeon, now looking into the window of a warm house, snow falling around him. It was devastating.”
“It’s a fucking pigeon.”
