Page 29 of Inked Temptation
“You do not have to even RSVP,” Brenna grumbled.
“You make wedding cakes. You’re a brilliant and talented award-winning cake decorator. You deal with weddings. You should know that you just can’tnotRSVP to something,” I muttered.
“You so can. You haven’t spoken to him at all since the divorce, right?” At my nod, Brenna continued. “And he just sends you an invitation out of the blue? It’s not being nice. He’s not trying to mend fences or be friends. If he would’ve done that, he would’ve given you a warning or would’ve said, ‘Hey, I’m dating. Meet my girlfriend.’ No, he sends the invite to rub your face in it because he’s an asshole, just like he always was.” She looked down at her empty drink and handed the glass to Benjamin. “And I have clearly had too many drinks. I can’t believe I just said that.” Tears started to fall down her cheeks, and I cursed under my breath before I pulled her out of Benjamin’s arms and hugged her tight.
“No, you’re right. You said everything right.”
“I’m not the one that usually says these things. That’s Annabelle. Or Paige.”
“I only heard the last of that, but that does sound like something I would say. I’m so proud of you, Brenna. Because you said what we were all thinking,” Paige exclaimed.
I narrowed my eyes at all of them as I pulled away from Brenna and wiped her tears away. She immediately sank into her husband’s side and he soothed her.
Everybody was paired up and happy, all eight of them surrounding me.
And I just wanted to scream.
How was I a ninth wheel? I hadn’t even realized that was a thing until here I was, a ninth wheel. Of course, Paige had once said she was one before, but now I know that wasn’t true. I was the one destined to be alone.
And maybe I needed a drink if I was going to utter those words in my head, like a selfish little idiot.
“Okay, I won’t RSVP. I will burn the letter instead of letting it sit on my front table mocking me whenever I walk in the door.”
“You haven’t already shredded it?” Lee asked, his hand on Paige’s shoulder.
“No. Didn’t know what to do. So I’ve been ignoring it.”
“If it’s at your front door, you can’t.”
“If I keep putting other pieces of paper on it, I can. It will just lie under a stack of bills until I notice it a year later.”
“Because you can totally let all that mess just pile up,” Eliza teased.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Could we talk about something else? Anything else? Has a baby done something new? Why don’t I have any new pictures of my nieces or nephews?”
Immediately, they each pulled all their phones and showed me the pictures of the next generation doing extraordinary things. Like smiling, coloring, walking. All these babies could do so many things, and while my paternal clock was slightly ticking, I ignored it because I could do this. I would be the best gay uncle there was—the guncle of life.
I didn’t need Marc or wedding invitations or pity. I had this. I didn’t need anything else.
“I am stealing this handsome guy right now from whatever’s going on even though I love seeing the pictures of the kids because I need help behind the bar.”
I peered at Riggs as he pulled his dark hair back from his face, his eyes dancing with laughter.
“Why? Because I’m the sober one?” I teased.
“Yes, and I could use your help.”
“Because everybody else has something to do,” I muttered.
“No, because I’m saving you. Goodbye now, goodbye,” Riggs teased as he pulled me past Clay and the others and behind the bar.
Riggs, of course, left a huge smacking kiss on Clay’s lips as everybody cheered, and others began to enjoy their party.
“I can’t believe you’re working for Clay’s party.”
“This is just an excuse for everyone to drink in the middle of the afternoon and enjoy themselves. I don’t mind, it’s paying the bills, and Clay did land that huge account, did amazing on it, and Beckett is so proud that we’re having the party here. I am a proud husband.”
“And you need me to help with drinks? Or maybe be the bar back?”
