Riley Mackenzie: Beautifully Done

Why the fuck am I barefoot? The sand was cold, colder than you would expect in October, and the salt water spray only added to the chill in the air. At least I was in this monkey suit, could’ve been worse. Half the women lining the beach, waiting to get this show on the road, were freezing their asses off in glorified lingerie. Not that I minded the view.

“Why the fuck are we barefoot again?” I clipped Chase’s arm to get his attention and snap him out of whatever pussy whipped La-La Land he disappeared to.

“How old are you, man? Can’t you stand still for five minutes?”

If I didn’t know any better, the bastard sounded nervous.

“Ash, I’m with you,” Sierra chimed in from across the aisle. “This wind sucks. Don’t be surprised if my nipples cut straight through this dress.” Sierra was Lili’s best friend, maid of honor and probably the funniest chick we knew. I laughed and Chase’s face hardened, definitely not feeling our humor.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna shit yourself. Sure you want to do this? There’s still time to back out.” Cue the look of death. That was more like it. I grinned and threw my hands up in surrender. “Just sayin’.”

Finally his brow relaxed. He was my best friend, but damn, was he one intense motherfucker.

“What the hell is taking her so long? I’m going back up to the house to make sure everything’s okay.”

There was the real truth. He couldn’t stand being more than two feet away from her for any given amount of time. Overprotective was an understatement; especially after everything they went through last year.

I clutched his shoulder. “No, you’re not.”

I lifted my chin toward the staircase slicing through the sand dunes and tall beach grass just as the music started to play. And not the traditional harp or cello, but acoustic guitar. Nice. Chase’s shoulders relaxed and I slapped him on the back. Lucky bastard.

Lili Porter was take-your-breath-away, instant hard-on beautiful. She was wearing one of those stark white strapless Greek goddess-looking dresses that hugged all the right places. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back, covered by a simple white veil. Her long bangs blew in the wind; the ones she cut last year to help cover one of her scars. This was why I called her gorgeous.

Everyone stood from their white folding chairs and focused on the bride. Cameras clicked and the oohs and aahs briefly muffled the music. Chase struggled to control his breathing. As head over heels as he was for this woman, he would be pissed at himself if he lost his shit in front of all these people. Half the crowd worked for him.

“Really?” I leaned in, trying to sound nonchalant, pointing to the sparkly pumps dangling underneath her bouquet of blue roses. “What’d you pay for those fucking shoes? And she’s not even wearing them.”

He turned and elbowed me in the ribs. “You’re an ass.” Then he shook his head and chuckled. At least he made it five minutes without crying like a pansy. Best man duty fulfilled.

The ceremony went off without a hitch. The women all cried, because women cry. Hell, I even got a little choked up. Marriage wasn’t in the cards for me, but if two people were meant for each other it was these two. All the main points were hit: rings, vows, I do’s and a kiss, if you could call it that. More like a teaser clip of the honeymoon. If it was anyone other than the guy who slept over every time he lost a tooth in the second grade because the Park Avenue tooth fairy sucked ass, and the girl who earned honorary sister status, it would have been hot. Screw it, it was still pretty hot. Too bad I didn’t bring a date to share in the love.

Wedding dates were a huge no, bigger than Saturday night dates. It never just meant and guest , at least not to your plus one . So I didn’t do either. It was that simple. I was a player, but I wasn’t a heartless dick. If I stumbled across a beautiful lady who was already there, well, that was a completely different story. And luckily, this reception had no shortage.

“Forget about it.” Sierra sucked down half of her margarita.

“What? What did I do?”

Sierra’s eyes followed my line of sight. Standing alone at the bar, a petite brunette played with the straw in her pink drink. I wasn’t a boob man, but even at this distance, I couldn’t miss her rack bopping to the beat of the music. I was blessed with 20/20.

“Pick someone else. You’re the last thing she needs.” Lili’s pint-sized sidekick excelled at blunt. “No offense.”

None taken. I knew exactly what she meant.

But before I got the chance to defend my honor, Dodd snaked her waist and clinked his beer bottle against mine. “What’s up, Ash? My wife giving you a hard time?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Psst, I live with her, remember?”

Sierra was a handful and a half, but hey, that’s what he signed on for when he said I do . I laughed and we both drank.

“Hey, I’m standing right here.” Her hand shot to her hip, assuming the classic pissed off female stance.

I wondered if she realized that it didn’t have quite the same effect at a good foot shorter than everyone else. Pint-sized and feisty. It was fun having her around more since Chase and Lili moved up from Philadelphia six months ago. Those women were connected at the hip. No doubt, she would have Dodd’s ass destined for Boston in no time.

“You-” her finger jabbed my chest, “need to keep it in your pants. Kate’s off limits. Got me? And you…” Now it was Dodd’s turn. “If you want me to ever take it back out of your pants, you’ll back me up on this one.”

Come again ? “That’s Kate?”

“Yes, so point your sexy green eyes in another direction. Like, ummm, there. How about her? I’m sure you’ll have no problem sweet talking her way-too-tight, wannabe couture dress right off of her.”

Dodd laughed at his wife. “Babe, I love you to pieces, but you can be a serious bitch sometimes.”

Her hand found its way back to her little hip. “Come on, if you want to wear size four Lycra, you don’t get double D implants. You know I’m right.”

“Wait, back up. That’s Kate? Kate, Kate?” Shit. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t a hottie. Her ex was about eight months in on a three-year sentence for assault and drug theft. Got off easy, not nearly long enough for the damage he caused. Supposedly he was more distraught over losing his license to practice medicine than the fact he almost killed Lili. The bastard bashed her skull against a wall and tossed her down a flight of cement stairs for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I sat vigil with Chase in that claustrophobic hospital cube for the longest forty-eight hours, waiting to see if she’d wake up. It was pure torture. I couldn’t tell you which was worse, watching him circle a scary abyss again or staring at her unrecognizable face. It was a miracle she healed as well as she did, at least on the outside.

Sierra snapped out of whatever tangent she was on. “I forgot you never met her before. Probably because it took her weeks to face Lili—the poor thing was a hot mess after the accident. We all knew Lil would never blame her.”

Of course she wouldn’t.

“Anyway, my point is that Kate’s finally got herself together, even started dating again. Thus, you and your giant hot self stay far, far away.”