Two Grooms and a Wedding

“I don’t know why I even bother. You’re never going to grow a backbone.” Keri slumped into a chair at the kitchen’s island. “From now on you’re on your own. I’m keeping my two cents to myself.”

“C’mon. Don’t be like that.” Isabella turned to her friend. “I need you in my corner more than ever.”

“Need me to do what? Watch you throw your life away and marry the wrong man simply because you’re too afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings?”

“That’s not what’s going on.”

Keri lifted a dubious brow and crossed her arms.

“Okay, it’s sort of like that.” Isabella turned toward the coffee maker and hit the brew button. In truth, up until now, she really hadn’t minded her parents making all the decisions for her. Mainly because at twenty-seven Isabella still didn’t know what she wanted to be when she grew up. How crazy was that?

In a sense, her parents gave her the much needed direction in life. As it turned out, Isabella was a damn good tax attorney. Maybe—just maybe, her parents really did know what was best for her—including who she should marry.

“I’m going to do it,” she said softly, making a decision and ignoring Keri’s narrowing gaze. “I thought all night about it and…well, I do have some feelings for Randall.” She nodded more to convince herself than her best friend. “We’re good friends and plenty of therapists and psychotherapists say that’s the foundation for a strong marriage. Love will come.”

“Nothing like putting the cart before the horse,” Keri said.

Isabella’s chin thrust forward while her intense gaze leveled with Keri’s.

“Oh, God. You’re serious.”

“Love isn’t like the movies,” Isabella said, and then added in a sullen whisper. “At least not for me. If I turn this down, there’s a strong possibility that I could end up an old maid.”

“Oh, stop it,” Keri snapped. “There’s no such thing anymore. We’re the same age. You don’t see me rushing to the altar with the wrong man.”

“That’s because you have options. You’ve dated more men this year than I’ve dated my entire life. The rules for beautiful people are different from the plain Janes of the world. Beggars can’t be choosey.”

Keri stepped forward and placed a hand against her shoulder. “Izzy—”

“Don’t.” Isabella drew back, breaking contact. “I’m not trying to put myself down. I’m just facing facts. And the fact of the matter is: a proposal from Randall Jarrett is like winning the marital lottery. He’s handsome, successful—”

“Okay. Okay.” Keri said and threw up her hands. “Stop trying to sell him to me. You’re marrying him not me. I’m just going to buy a big-o tub of popcorn and watch this fiasco from the sidelines.”

“Keri—”

Her hands ascended higher in surrender. “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

“Good.” It was an obvious lie, but Isabella lacked the bravery to call her on it. But there was one thing she needed her best friend’s help with. “Uhm,” Isabella drawled and then swallowed the gigantic lump lodged in the center of her throat. “I, uh—”

Keri lowered her hands, but then crossed her arms while her eyebrows played a game of see-saw. “What? Surely this can’t get any worse.”

Isabella jabbed her hands onto her waist.

“I mean, better,” her best friend corrected. “It can’t get any better.”

Isabella trudged past the arctic sarcasm. “Randall doesn’t know I’m a virgin.”

“Surely, it’s not hard to guess.”

“Will you please be serious?”

Keri’s laugh erupted like a machine gun’s rapid fire. “I was being serious.”

Clenching her jaw in mutinous silence, Isabella poured coffee into a ridiculous-size mug with the logo: Geeks do it better!

Keri read the mug and just shook her head.

“It’s meant to inspire,” Isabella said after following her gaze.

“Of course it is,” Keri said with a roll of her eyes. “So, what’s your point? Randall doesn’t know you’re a virgin. And?”

Her feelings still bruised, Isabella shook her head. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“Izzy, spit it out before I strangle you.”

Squirming while her face scorched with embarrassment, she plunged ahead. “I don’t want to disappoint Randall. You know…on our honeymoon.”

“As long as you have a pulse, it’s fairly hard to disappoint a man in bed. And for some, a pulse is highly overrated.”

Isabella’s patience finally snapped. “Will you please be serious! I’m pouring my heart out to you and you think it’s amateur night at the comedy club.”

Keri’s hands shot back up into the air. “My bad. What is it that you want me to do?”

“Teach me,” Isabella said simply.

“Teach you what?”

“You know…how to, uhm, spice things up on our honeymoon.” One look into her friend’s amused face and Isabella regretted she’d ever brought it up, but Keri’s next words surprised her.

“All right. You have yourself a teacher.”

There were times when Derrick hated his job.

And flying to Washington in the middle of a thunderstorm was one of those times.

“You look green,” Charlie Masters, one of his best friends and frat brothers, shouted from the pilot seat. “If the storm is bothering you, why don’t you just sit back and close your eyes?”

A jagged bolt of lightning appeared to strike dangerously close to the airplane’s small wing. Derrick wondered how he let his buddy talk him into flying in this small death trap instead of him going commercial. These tiny things had a habit of dropping out of the sky.

“How the hell can you see where you’re going?” Derrick snapped, trying to hide his fear. He didn’t have much success given how the rain and the wind tossed the plane around like a paper kite.

“Relax,” Charlie said with an irritating chuckle. “I’ll have you on the ground in about twenty minutes.”

Derrick’s hard gaze speared his all-too-calm buddy. “You forgot to add alive and in one piece.”

Charlie’s hazel-green eyes twinkled with amusement. “Well, I’ll do what I can.” He laughed.

Derrick groaned because the alternative, punching the pilot, wasn’t a smart idea. Out of the six tight-knit Kappa Psi Kappa fraternity brothers, Derrick and Charlie’s friendship went all the way back to diapers—simply because their mothers had been best friends for over forty years.