Page 65 of Floored (Frenched 3)
Confession: I also replayed the scene in the hotel room a million times in my head. (Damn, I wish I had that on video.)
And then the conversation afterward…it almost seemed like he wanted more from me than friendship, but something was holding him back. It could have been any number of things—his fear of screwing it up, a fear of hurting me, his gut feeling that he was wrong for me, or something else entirely. I mean, I really didn’t know him all that well.
And as for my own feelings, I was totally confused. We had great physical chemistry, and I had fun when we were together, but no way did I want Charlie Dwyer to be the one that finally got to me, nor would I feed that big fat ego by being just one more girl who got emotionally attached after having sex with him. In fact, the more I thought about it, the gladder I felt he was unable to be at the wedding tonight.
I didn’t love him.
But I could.
That was the problem.
#
The church glimmered with candlelight. From the back of the church, Mia and I watched as Nick’s grandmother and parents were seated by ushers, followed by Coco’s grandmother and mother. When Nick and his brothers entered the sanctuary from a side door and took their places at the altar, Mia grabbed my arm. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It’s happening.”
Fighting tears, I nodded, and turned to look at Coco. She was more beautiful than I’d ever seen her, her thick dark hair piled on her head, her skin radiant, her eyes shining. “You ready?” I said softly.
She inhaled and exhaled. “I think so. Is he up there?”
I nodded, glancing back to the altar. “He is. And he looks gorgeous and happy and excited. Grinning ear to ear.”
She smiled too. “Good.” She looked at her father, a tall, heavy-set man with black hair graying at the temples. “Ready, Dad?”
He nodded, and offered his elbow. “Ready.”
“OK,” the wedding coordinator said as the string quartet at the front of the church began the Bach piece Coco had chosen for the processional. “First bridesmaid.”
That was me. I looked at Mia, then Coco, and sm
iled. “See you up there.”
Coco had chosen beautiful bridesmaid dresses—emerald green bias-cut satin with a draped scoop neck and low back with crisscrossed straps. It was long, and felt lovely swishing against my legs as I walked up the aisle. Mia followed me a minute later, and then Nick’s little niece and nephew charmed the crowd as flower girl and ring bearer.
Finally it was Coco’s moment. My throat squeezed as she glided up the aisle in her ivory wedding dress, also bias-cut satin. The neckline draped just like ours did, but instead of an open back, hers was covered with a sheer layer of tulle covered with beads and crystals in an art deco motif. Just like I’d done at Mia’s wedding, I looked back and forth between bride and groom, fighting tears just like they were. It was so obvious how crazy they were for one another.
Mia reached for my hand, and the two of us clung to each other as Coco’s father kissed her cheek and gave her away to Nick. We only let go twice, once when I had to go up and do a reading, and the second time for communion, which I took but felt guilty about. (Although isn’t guilt half the point of Catholicism?)
Several times throughout the mass, I looked over at Mia and saw her smiling at Lucas, and he back at her.
I was genuinely happy for both my best friends. They’d found exactly what they were looking for, when they least expected it. Yes sir, I was genuinely happy for them, and not a bit jealous. Nope, nope, nope, not one bit. Not even a teensy little bit. Not even—
Oh my God.
I blinked several times at the guy in the black coat coming in the back of the church and sneaking up a side aisle to an open pew. It looked like Charlie, but it couldn’t be. Could it?
Mia elbowed me. “Is that who I think it is?” she whispered in my ear.
I gaped as the guy took off the heavy black coat to reveal a gray suit and white shirt, although the tie was deep red this time.
It was totally Charlie. My girly parts knew it even before my brain did, because they tingled and tightened up like they had some sort of Charlie radar. My nipples peaked, and I brought my bouquet up a little to cover them. Dammit, why hadn’t I had cups sewn in like Mia had?
As if he knew what I was doing, Charlie grinned at me, looking more handsome than I’d ever seen him. My cheeks grew warm with a blush, and my heart rioted in my chest. What was he doing here? What about his plans? Why hadn’t he told me he was coming? I was so happy to see him, I couldn’t stop smiling.
The groom kissed the bride, the mass ended, and the guests all cheered when the priest introduced Mr. and Mrs. Nicolas Lupo for the first time. I whistled and clapped along with everyone, feeling so good I practically floated back down the aisle on the arm of Nick’s brother Michael. I tried to make eye contact with Charlie when I passed the row he was in, but the other guests blocked him.
The bridal party was supposed to go directly to the back of the church and sneak out a side door to wait for the crowd to leave. Then we’d take pictures on the altar before piling in the limos to go to Coco’s house. Reluctantly, I let Michael lead me to the room where immediate family and the newlyweds waited.
Mia and I headed straight for Coco, and the three of us squealed, jumping up and down, tears dripping from our eyes. I hugged them both tight and then hugged Nick and kissed his cheek. “Congratulations,” I said, wiping my kiss mark off his cheek.
