Bad Boy's Bridesmaid(33)

Damn. What was worse? No food at the wedding … or no meat? Without meat,  my family would assume there was no food. But we had to serve something.

"No," I said. "We'll take it. Same plan. We'll think of something."         

     



 

I sorted out the details and hung up. That added a fifteenth item to my  to-do list, and probably meant I had no time to sleep tonight. I rolled  off the couch, got sick, and rushed to the bathroom.

I didn't make it to the toilet, but the bathtub worked. I hardly had the  energy to sit up, but I did have the motivation to cry. The first  blubbering tears stole my breath. Frustration smacked me over the head.

This wasn't fair.

I had no idea how to do this on my own anymore-and it wasn't just the  wedding scaring the bejesus out of me. I hauled myself to my feet and  brushed my teeth. It helped, but only a little.

The stress was too much.

Even if I didn't tell him about the baby, Nate had said he wanted to help. He promised he'd be there for me.

He said he wanted me.

So maybe he'd help me now?

Why was I so terrified to dial his number? My lip trembled before he  answered. I sniffled as the call connected, and as soon as I heard his  voice, I whimpered.

Nate laughed.

"That's a great Lindsey impression," he said. "Sounds real."

I had a bad habit when I cried-I forgot to breathe, some sort of  subconscious attempt to not actually make a sound. It never worked.  Inevitably I'd huffed some choked gasp that sounded like a cross between  a gasp and a sick, orgasmic ostrich.

It wasn't sexy, and it wasn't quiet.

Nate stopped laughing. "Oh, damn. You're really upset. What's wrong? Bryce didn't get cold feet again did he?"

Warning bells clanged in my head. "What?"

"Shit. Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Great. I reminded myself to add note sixteen to the to-do list-chase  down the groom. He used to be a linebacker. That wouldn't be easy.

I choked up again.

"Mandy, what's wrong?"

Everything.

Where to start? I couldn't breathe, and the damn tears frustrated me  more. I put the phone down to grunt out the breath lost in my chest. It  did nothing. I coughed it out, more humiliated that I called Nate and  could only cry.

The words came, but not in the right order.

"It's all mushrooms!"

Tears rolled over my cheeks. Something told me the baby wouldn't like  mushrooms. The wedding would be ruined, my family destroyed, the baby  would hate everything I tried to feed it, and I'd be the world's worst  Maid of Honor and mother because I didn't check on the meat.

"What's all mushrooms?" Nate talked slowly. "You gotta give me a little bit more."

"Dinner. The wedding. All vegetarian. We all have to eat mushrooms."

"Oh … I don't like mushrooms."

He sliced the final cut straight through my heart. I collapsed onto the floor.

"Hey, fine. I'll eat mushrooms. Before, during, or after the wedding. As  many as you want. I promise. Just tell me what the hell is happening."

"The caterers are making vegetarian-only meals."

"Why?"

"Lindsey scared them! She ordered her dinner and said she'd rather skin  them alive for getting the dinner wrong than hurt one chicken."

"Sounds about right."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to get my nails done and put up the  decorations and help the caterers and organize the string quartet and  hire the other DJ … " The tears came back. "I haven't even learned how to  nae nae."

"How to what?"

"Mom's dress isn't done-she wants to wear that red hoochie-momma outfit,  and Lindsey is flipping out. Dad doesn't have the money right now to  pay half the people we need to pay. There's no cake-we're ordering  cupcakes from this place called Sweet Nibbles, but we're probably going  to have to bake cookies too-"

"Mandy, take a breath."

"Half the family is ecstatic they can do the funeral and wedding in the  same weekend, but my cousins are pissed because they said it's  disrespectful, but that's only because they've always wanted Great Aunt  Mildred's jewelry collection, and Lindsey had already asked to wear the  rings and necklace for the wedding-"

"Mandy."

"I haven't eaten all day. My dress doesn't fit right. Mom and Dad are  fighting again-they can't even be in the same room. We terrified your  dad today. Again. We wanted to make sure the ceremony was good to go,  and some very blasphemous things were said when my dad suggested Lindsey  and Bryce get some counseling after the wedding to help the marriage … "

"It's okay. What else?"

Why did it feel so good to tell him all this? I sniffled. I think I ranted everything. I pouted.         

     



 

"My socks are on the wrong feet."

"How do you know?"

"I can tell."

"Okay. Here's what's going to happen." Nate's voice became to a gentle command. "You lay down and take a nap."

"What? I can't!"

"I'll be over in two hours. You relax until then, try to stay calm, and  we're going to solve the problems one at a time … starting with the  wedding food. Okay?"

Nate was gifted in bed, but he wasn't a miracle worker outside my panties. "O-okay."

"I'll see you in a bit."

The call ended.

I should have slept. Instead I sprung into a frantic, pulse-pounding  scattershot effort to shove as many blankets, bras, books, boxes, and  empty water bottles into my closet as I could, in lieu of cleaning.

I tossed the unscrubbed pot soaking in the sink into the oven before  rushing to the laundry basket to find something that looked remotely  casual. My favorite pair of jeans suddenly fit a lot differently, and I  didn't even want to consider those consequences. A pair of yoga pants  worked though.

I tucked into a comfy t-shirt and pretended like I could face the most  gorgeous man in the world armed with only a tube of strawberry scented  lip balm and a ponytail.

An hour and a half later, Nate knocked at the door. I nearly forgot to  tuck the sonogram picture into the deepest pocket of my purse.

I took no chances. I hid the purse and the picture in the closet with all the other unmentionables.

I answered the door to a pile of three boxes. Nate slid a fourth down the hall. I peeked inside.

Lettuce? Tomatoes? He bought three bags of cheddar cheese the size of my head and a tub of sour cream I could swim in …

 … And if Lindsey saw the thirty pounds of ground meat he hauled onto my counter, she'd personally brand both of our behinds.

"What are you doing?" I stared as Nate unloaded sleeve upon sleeve of hard taco shells. "Tell me you didn't rob Mexico."

"I have a friend who works at a restaurant depot. One of those stores  that sell in bulk directly to commercial kitchens. He hooked me up."

"With … a walking heart attack?"

Nate's mischievous grin turned proud. "Taco bar, baby! Everyone loves  tacos. As long as the vegetarian dishes aren't too horrible, we can work  this out."

He was a genius.

A goddamned genius.

My apartment wasn't large enough for any real culinary magic, but Nate  made it work. I texted Lindsey to tell her not to worry about the  caterers-which, in turn, made her freak about the caterers-then silenced  the phone. Nate rummaged through my kitchen as if he had always  belonged there. He twirled a frying pan by the handle and winked at me.

"We cook the meat up now, prep the veggies, and I'll store it in the  fridge at the pub. Then we'll deliver it on Saturday to the wedding. Ask  the caterers to bring extra warming dishes, and we're set."

"I can't thank you enough for this."

"Oh … I don't know about that. Sit there and think of all the naughty ways you might repay me."

I didn't trust his smile, but it warmed me up like I sat on the burner.  He pre-warmed the pan for the ground meat and rummaged through my  drawers for a spatula.

"You can cook?" I asked.

"Cook. Brew. Bake. I'm a one-man kitchen machine."

"That's good to know."

His arms tensed as he hauled the meat to the counter. His muscles  flexed, and I wanted nothing more than to touch his ink. "Why's that?"

"Because now I know you can make me dinner."

"Anytime you want, baby."

He was serious. My heart thudded a bit too hard. I turned to distract  myself with the veggies and other prep work, but Nate thought ahead. He  bought shredded lettuce and refried beans, taco sauce, shells.  Everything we needed.

It shouldn't have surprised me that Nate would have done everything in his power to help me.

But it did.

And it meant so much more to me than he realized. Maybe it was time for him to know it.

"Nate … " I had no idea what to say that didn't sound idiotic. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

"You asked me for help."

"I probably overstepped my bounds-"

"If you ask me for help … I'll help. Anytime, baby." His smile faded, but his voice warmed. "And I like that you asked me."