Page 37 of Seven Year Itch
Luke elbows me, snapping me out of my brooding. “Chill the fuck out, man.”
I frown and shake my head. “Why are they here?”
“I flew them in,” Max hisses from the other side of me. “It was Cozy’s idea, and Wyatt was good with it.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it,” Max says firmly. “Trista clearly likes it.”
Trista holds her daughter proudly in front of her sister, pressing soft kisses to our girl’s head of curls as her sister leans in close and touches her cheek. She looks like a proud mama bear showing off her cub, and I guess if having her sister here makesher happy, I’ll try to chill the fuck out. But I’m keeping my eyes on both of them.
The rehearsal resumes, and I glance over and see Dakota watching me curiously. Honestly, I’ve been trying not to look at her since the moment she stepped out of the palapa earlier this evening. She’s dressed in a long emerald green and pink floral satin dress that dips low in the cleavage. And the slit that shows off her muscular legs when the wind catches her dress is enough to make me salivate. After lying next to her earlier, seeing those smooth legs, hearing her breathe, visualizing her naked under my T-shirt, it was no wonder I needed to jerk one out in the shower.
Tonight, she looks good enough to eat, and it’s going to make sharing a bed later even more uncomfortable. If I wake up with morning wood tomorrow, I know for a fact she will never let me hear the end of it.
Dakota
“So where were you all day?” Cozy asks quietly as we sit down at dinner being served by the pool.
“In bed fighting for my life. Please tell me you felt the same.”
She winces. “I don’t think I did as many shots as you did last night.”
I roll my eyes. “A true friend would have stopped me.”
She shrugs. “You needed to blow off some steam. You earned it. This trip is as much for you as it is for the bride and groom.”
I laugh and glance over at Wyatt and Trista who are all heart eyes at each other tonight. Wyatt is supposed to be the grumpy one of the four Fletcher brothers, but he’s been smiling nonstop.
“Trista seems happy her sister is here.”
“Thank God,” Cozy says with a sigh. “It was a bit of a risk flying them out here for this, but Wyatt really wanted to make it happen for Trista.”
“God, they are so cute and in love.” I sigh as I look back at them again. “Did I ever look at Randal that way?”
“You sure did.” Cozy looks almost sad and contemplative at that answer. “But don’t worry. You’ll find love again.”
I bark out a laugh and wince when all heads turn to look at me and Cozy at the end of the table. My eyes snag on Calder’s, and he frowns quizzically at me. Like somehow our shared afternoon of peace entitles him to know my innermost thoughts.
I clear my throat and take a sip of my water. “Trust me, girl. I’m not looking for that again.”
“What are you looking for?”
My traitorous eyes move to Calder. Damn them. “Just... myself again.”
I turn back to find my best friend frowning at me.
“I lost a lot of myself, and I’d like to find that girl again. The one who opened her own T-shirt shop fresh out of college and renovated her house all on her own and just... killed it at life, ya know?”
“How will you find her again? Do you have a plan?”
I lick my lips as I ponder her question. This is not the time or the place to get into the specifics of my post-divorce plan with my best friend. I’m not sure Cozy would approve anyways. She’s in such a different place in her life. Cozy is in busy-mom mode and sister-in-law mode, and I love that for her. But it makes me sharing the inner workings of my crazy plan a bit awkward. It feels seedy and dangerous and like it might taint the perfect bubble she’s living in. And I don’t know if I really want advice from someone who’s smack-dab in the middle of her happily-ever-after. Hell, I’d probably get more relatable advice from Everly these days.
I have to figure this out on my own. I’ll plan to find Cozy on the other side when it’s all said and done, hopefully feeling more like myself than I have in years. Not this tired, insecure, splintered shell.
The clinking of glass on the other side of the table draws my eyes as I see Johanna stand up from her seat, holding her flute of champagne and waiting for everyone’s attention. Everly holds a sleeping Stevie in her arms beside her, and Trista tears her attention away from her future husband to grin up at her future mother-in-law.
“I think it’s customary for the father of the groom to make a toast at the rehearsal dinner, so I hope you don’t mind ’ol Ma doing it instead.”
