I force my eyes open.
“No. It was what you wanted. If you didn’t, you would have said no.” He lowers his lips to mine. “I respect ‘no,’ Liv. I don’t respect ‘oh my god.’ In fact, I take the latter as one hell of a f**king compliment.”
“It is most definitely a compliment.” I smile wearily. “But where the hell did the bullet come from?”
He grabs it from the floor with a smirk and tucks it into his pants pocket. “Black trousers hide a multitude of sins, luckily for us.”
“Black is slimming.” I sit up straight and tuck the napkin into a pocket of my purse. “What?” I ask at Tyler’s amused look. “You think I want some waiter touching a napkin covered in my come?”
“I’m not amused because you’re putting it in there. I’m amused because you’re learning.” He grins against my lips. “If your knickers are uncomfortable, there’s a home in my pocket.”
“Speaking of that, what happened to my other pair?”
He takes my hands and pulls me to standing. His arms circle my waist, holding me against him, and his mouth settles by my ear. “They’re in my drawer, washed. So the next time you come over and I feel obliged to tie you up somewhere, you have a clean pair for after.”
I look up at him through my eyelashes. “Is that a promise to tie me up again?”
His eyes flash with desire. “It’s a certainty, baby girl.”
My best friend is beautiful. That is a fact that should be stated before all else, if only because she’s the kind of woman who looks great in sweatpants and a tank top with soup spilled down it.
But right now, she looks incredible.
The white-lace gown hugs her figure to perfection—if you ignore the pins at her waist. The train is modest, nothing flashy, and the simple sweetheart neckline shows just enough cle**age to be sexy but not so much that it’s trashy.
“What do you think?” She runs her hands across her stomach and down.
I swallow hard. “I think it’s perfect. You’re perfect.” Tears fill my eyes.
“Oh my god. Don’t you dare f**king cry!” She gasps. “I don’t want to cry. I hate crying. Dammit, Liv! You’re making me cry!” She covers her face with her hands.
“I can’t help it.” I stand and hug her tightly. “You look incredible. We’re gonna have to get a defibrillator on standby for every man at the wedding.”
She snort-laughs. “Only a defibrillator, eh?”
“For Aaron, I’m pre-booking an ambulance.” I pull back with a teary smile. “It’s better than I imagined. Seriously. Wow.”
It is. I’ve never seen a dress more perfect—and the white against her lightly tan skin and dark, curly hair is startlingly bright.
“Okay. I’m getting changed now that it’s fitted because I don’t want to cry anymore.” She sniffs and wipes under her eyes as she trots to the dressing room.
How is it?
Tyler texts.
I’m crying,
I reply with my own sniff.
That bad, huh?
Shut up.
I have a surprise for you.
Oh, no. I still remember last night’s “surprise.”
Don’t you forget it, bitch. I can recreate in any number of places. In fact, I have a list on my phone.
For real?
No. But it’ll only take me a minute. I can even text it to you if you like.
I smirk and shrug to myself.
You have me intrigued.
Give me two minutes.
What about the surprise?
Ask your best friend.
Ask my best friend? Why do I feel like everyone conspires against me? Oh, that’s because they do. Fucking hell.
Dayton steps out from the fitting room in a skin-tight cream dress. Fitting, given the morning’s activities.
“Hey,” I say to her as we step outside. “You look a little porky. Anything you wanna tell me?”
She levels a hard look on me. “Don’t even pull that. I still have two months on this f**ker.” She taps the inside of her upper arm through her red coat. “I’m refusing to negotiate until there’s three weeks left.”
“You could get it out early.”
“After the pain it took to put it in? No, Liv. That pain was for five years, not four years, ten months, and Aaron’s pestering.”
I get in the car after her. “That bad?”
She rolls her eyes. “No. I want it. I do. I’d love to have a family with him, but we just found each other again. I mean, it’s not like my ovaries are standing and tapping their wristwatches. I want to be us for a while before we add someone else. We have that time. He gets that, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own wants. Maybe I’ll go on the pill or something after the implant. Something we can stop right away.”
“I get that. It makes sense. You have forever.”
We share a smile.
“So, right now, you can tell me about my so-called surprise.”
“Aha! That’s the reason for the porky comment.” She grins. “You are going to want to string Tyler by his balls from the Eiffel Tower.”
“As long as it’s not a bullet and a boat, I think I can cope,” I say dryly, taking a small envelope from her hand.
“I’m sorry?” she chokes. “No, wait. There are some things I don’t need to know. Besides, I think I’ve worked that out for myself.”
I hold up three fingers and internally laugh at her gasp. Yep. The ex-call girl is amazed by simultaneous O’s. There’s something I never thought I’d see.
She’s still staring at me when I tear open the envelope. A card falls to my lap and I gawk at it. Not a note-card kind of card. A card-card. A credit-card kind of card. With Tyler’s name on.
I inhale deeply and pull out the note. Do. Not. Freak.
Believe it or not, I’m not being an arse. This time. Shocking, I know.
I conveniently forgot to tell you one of the shoots I want to do is a boudoir one…again. And I conveniently forgot to tell Dayton to pack you something suitable. Which means you have to buy something. Okay. Maybe that’s a little twattish…
Still, find something sexy. Preferably in that light pink colour you like. Definitely in the light pink colour.
And don’t come back until you have a pair of shoes that match.
If you also feel the need to purchase something for dinner tonight, go wild. Wild is how we do it, and I don’t expect any less when I throw my card at you.