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Madelyn looked confused. “I’m not wearing a dress.”
Well, this was an interesting turn of events.
For the first time Steve cracked a small smile. “Only you, Mad.”
“What?” Kennedy looked confused.
“I’ll wear my dress uniform,” Madelyn said, and I couldn’t help but tighten my arm around her, because I loved the idea. “I mean…I can’t give my fiancé a heart attack on our wedding day.”
She had me there, and I decided to keep my mouth shut because if I saw Madelyn in a tight white dress, it might actually stop my heart. The one she’d worn the night we went to the steakhouse had featured prominently in some very inappropriate fantasies already.
Kennedy made a face. “Mads, you can’t. That’s just…”
“Perfect,” I interjected. “I’ll wear my uniform too, badass. I can’t think of a better way to do this.”
“Badass?” Steve grinned at me.
“Cupcake,” I threw out there lamely, and it made him snort.
“Cupcake? For fuck’s sake, Beckman. You went from bad to worse.”
“Fissake!” Teagan screamed and Kennedy leveled her husband with a glare.
“Nice work, VanBuren. Your daughter will know every iteration of the f-word by the time we have her in pre-school.” She sighed heavily before turning her face toward Madelyn. “You and me, sister. Tomorrow night. Bachelorette party.”
Madelyn burst into a deep belly laugh. “Kenny, I have exactly zero friends here. That’ll be a pretty sad party.”
I had some idea it would be an absolute clusterfuck if Kennedy was organizing it. Her entire family would be there, since the FitzSimmons family jumped on any excuse for a party they could find. It took nothing to get those people bombed, and when they were bombed they wereloud.
“I guess that means I’m getting a babysitter.” Steve sighed deeply. “Can’t let this go unobserved, Beckman. The little woman’s taking out your woman…we have some hell to raise.”
There would be no hell raised. I’d have exactly three beers and be in bed by ten, and so would Steve. He talked a much bigger game than he played these days.
They were taking this surprisingly well, I thought, and when the server appeared with refreshed drinks and a pad of paper, Madelyn and I both ordered platters of their tacos.
If there was such a thing as a flight of tacos, Maggie’s did it and did it well. Fish tacos, beef tacos, soft shell, hard shell, spicy, vegetarian… There were four hardshell and six soft tacos on each of our plates and without me even giving Madelyn a look, she whispered to me, “Game on, Beckman.”
This woman. It made a huge grin stretch across my face, because I remembered her at fifteen, the first time she’d challenged me to an eating contest. I’d made some crack about her being all skin and bone, gangly arms and legs, and she’d grabbed the stack of pizza boxes out of my hands. Steve and I were known for ordering six or seven pies at a time and eating ourselves into a carb coma after finals week and we’d shown up with seven extra-large pizzas and two two-liters of hillbilly crack, as we called the soda.
Madelyn sat down right on the front porch and ate an extra-large pizza and-a-half while Steve and I watched in astonishment, and I never teased her about being too skinny ever again, because that had been an expensive lesson.
We both finished our plates–practically licked them clean–and Steve gave his sister a knowing smile. It would have killed her to let me win anything. Her competitive streak was so strong, she’d always given as good as she got.
There was no doubt in my mind that Madelyn would match me step for step. I wouldn’t gain an inch on her, and I liked it.
13
Madelyn
Kennedyspentallofthe next night trying to worm “the real reason” out of me and I just kept telling her that we’d had a real Come to Jesus talk and decided to stop wasting time. I knew she didn’t buy it for a second, and I worried a little that she’d be disappointed in us once she knew about the home study. I couldn’t risk that information getting out to just anyone yet, though it was killing me not to tell her.
True to form, Kennedy’s idea of a bachelorette party meant inviting people from high school that I hadn’t seen in decades, along with several of her brothers who still lived locally and while they shut down the bar, I kissed Kennedy on the cheek and thanked her for a wild night before driving my pretty sober self back home before ten.
This wasn’t the way I had envisioned marrying Adam, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to fuck it up and show up hung over on my wedding day. If this was all I ever got, I was going to remember every moment of it, even if it was pretend. I had no problems living in a land of make believe for a while.
Adam’s truck was in the garage when I pulled in and the lamp was on in the living room. It was weird coming home to someone else and I was surprised to find that I didn’t hate it. In fact, it made me feel kind of warm and fuzzy.
Bailey’s nails clacked across the floor as he sauntered into the kitchen, pushing his butt up into the air as he dipped into a deep stretch.
