Page 72 of In Love with Lewis Prescott
“Are you cold? You’re hugging me kind of tight tonight,” she murmurs into my chest.
I press a kiss to her head. “Not cold. Just happy.”
Chapter Twenty
Harper
“Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for tonight’s entertainment?”
Naomi’s eyes go wide at the announcement made by one of Simon’s friends from the center of the bar. She claps her hands and jumps up and down so enthusiastically that her tiara-veil nearly falls off her head. When I reach up and straighten it, she thanks me.
“Hell yes, I’m ready!” she yells. Cheers and hollers from the other attendees follow.
It’s the night of Simon and Naomi’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party, and they’ve rented the upstairs floor of a bar down the street from where they live at the edge of Nob Hill. Two dozen of their closest friends are here to celebrate the happy couple with an evening of drinks, but now it’s time for the main event.
Maren trots back from the bar and drops off another tequila shot on the standing table we’re perched around.
“Easy,” I say to Naomi. “That’s your third one tonight.”
She downs it anyway. “We had barbecue for dinner, remember? I ate a ton. Three pieces of corn bread! My stomach is good and lined with fatty meats and carbs just waiting to soak up alcohol.”
Even in her tipsy state she must catch my frown, because she gives me a side hug. “Promise I won’t get shit-faced.”
My worry melts. My cousin’s a lightweight, and as much fun as I want her to have tonight, I know how miserable she’s felt the few times she’s ever gotten drunk enough to have a hangover. My mission as maid of honor is to make sure that she has a good time without ending up with her head in the toilet.
For a moment I take in just how much she’s glowing. Ever the nontraditional bride, she rejected every white cocktail dress Maren and I suggested for the bachelor-bachelorette party, opting instead for a black-and-gold minidress. She didn’t even want to wear the standard white sash with the wordbrideemblazoned on it. The silver tiara with a strip of white tulle on top of her head is the only bridal accessory she’s sporting. Her other accessory? A gorgeous smile that hasn’t budged the entire night.
I squeeze my arms around her. “You look so happy.”
Her big brown eyes tear up. “I’m a week away from marrying my dream guy. I’ve never been happier.”
Maren, who’s on the drunker side of tipsy, joins our hug, teetering on sparkly gold stilettos. She swipes at the skirt of her long-sleeve kelly green knit minidress. I reach over and straighten the hem for her.
She makes a kissy face at me as a thanks, then sniffles when she looks at Naomi. “I’m over the moon for you. You nabbed yourself a truly good guy. And he’s hot! And he’s about to strip for you! Naked! Woo!”
She raises her vodka on the rocks while the crowd of Naomi and Simon’s friends cheer. The dim bar lighting goes completely dark. A second later, a spotlight beams in the center of the floor. Simon’s friend who hollered the announcement a minute ago waltzes over to the illuminated spot with a chair.
“Will the future Mrs. Rutler please make her way to center stage?”
A roar of whistles and cheers follows. I dig out a stack of ones from my purse and hand it to her.
“Have fun.” I wink.
She grins wide before giving me one more squeeze and trotting over to the chair, only wobbling once in her black pumps. When I see her grip the hem of her dress as she plops onto the chair, I hold back a laugh.
“I hope she’s wearing underwear,” I say to Maren.
“Oh, she is. I made sure of it.”
The opening bars of Ginuwine’s “Pony” blast through the upstairs speaker system, and everyone screams. Simon emerges from a shadowy corner clad in the suit he was wearing earlier tonight, sans tie and jacket. He grooves over to Naomi, whose cheeks are on fire. She smiles wide, then opens her mouth in shock when Simon rips his shirt off and tosses it to the side while dancing in a circle around her. This time the yells are deafening.
“Naomi is one lucky wench,” Maren says as she looks on.
I roll my eyes and laugh, then dart my gaze away when Simon starts to body-roll over Naomi.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my cousin and Simon to death.” I cup my hand over the side of my face. “And I love that they’re having a party that’s so uniquely them. But I feel weird watching him strip. He’s gonna be my cousin by marriage in a week. It feels kind of...incestuous...to see him get naked.”
A thoughtful look crosses Maren’s face. “Good point.” She winces.
