Page 48 of Conflict
I’VE BEENdreading this day ever since Benjamin Cunningham put a ring on my sister’s finger. It’s the night of the rehearsal dinner, and in less than twenty-four hours, I’m not quite gaining a brother-in-law. Instead, it feels more like I’ll be losing a sister.
It’s been two months since the night at the wine bar. Two months that I’ve tried broaching the subject about Ariana’s upcoming wedding. Two months that I’ve watched her smile lessen with each passing day.
And two months spent trying to avoid Shane Wellington as much as I could, even though Cheyenne somehow found out about us and started a campaign in favor of him.
I have to give him credit. He started off slow. An apparent internet sleuth in his time off, he was quick to find all of my social media accounts, giving me a follow on several. His Facebook friend request sat unanswered for three weeks before I had too much wine and felt the urge to creep on his profile. Hey, he added me, so all’s fair, right?
It apparently gave him the courage to move things along.
First, there were flowers. I have no idea why he suddenly decided to stop giving me space. I just know that, two weeks after the escape at the wine bar, a gorgeous bouquet of tulips showed up at my office.
The things I’d do to get between those tulips. -SW
If Shane had been trying to send my mind racing back to the night we’d spent together, he definitely succeeded. I suddenly found a greater appreciation for the flower.
Next, I found myself signing for a case of Ollie’s most exceptional red wine with a note attached.
I don’t fancy wines; I prefer moans. Specifically yours. -SW
My cheeks must have flushed a deep pink, because two seconds later, Bryan snatched the card out of my hands, whistling as he read the words.
“Wow, those flowers are gorgeous!” Cheyenne exclaimed, her Southern drawl exaggerated on every single word.
To be honest, I’d barely noticed the bright sunflowers that’d accompanied the wine because I was too busy imagining Shane and his preference for moaning.
I turned to her in surprise, my mouth still open as she took the card from Bryan.
“Who is this mystery suitor, SW?” she asked, rereading the card then waving her hand. “It doesn’t matter. He sounds perfect.”
I quirked an eyebrow at her, incredulous. “He sounds perfect from one single line?”
“Of course. Cori and I always say humor is one of the greatest qualities in a man. I mean, seriously. A man who can make you laugh is just so sexy.”
Bryan snorted, “Can we not?”
Cheyenne gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry, Bry,” she whispered softly.
Yeah, there’s still no reconciliation in sight for those two.
“Anyways, I’m just saying… He’s obviously into you. He’s funny and isn’t afraid to make a fool of himself with cheesy—yet not overused—pickup lines.”
I couldn’t argue with that, especially since I was attracted to every single inch of the man in question. If Cheyenne only knew.
That was a week ago, and I wanted to contact him. Say thanks…with my words. My mouth. Or perhaps other body parts.
But, with Ariana’s upcoming wedding, I couldn’t find the right moment to decide what to do.
I just have to get through this weekend, and maybe I’ll give in.
Okay, I’m totally giving in.
First things first, however. That’s somehow getting through the weekend while watching my sister pledge her life to a weasel of a man and hope I’m wrong.
As I’m walking towards the hotel bar, I see Ariana stopped just outside the door, looking entirely too conspicuous. She sees me approaching and holds a finger to her lips. I frown but comply, tiptoeing towards her so my heels don’t click along the ceramic tile floor.
“Benjamin, you’ve done it, my boy.”
The booming voice is Benjamin’s father, but what I don’t understand is why Ariana’s eavesdropping. I also don’t understand why her face is red or who the daggers in her eyes are aimed toward.
