The Paid Bridesmaid(25)

“And more rewarding, in my experience.”

“What do you mean?”

He finished off the last of his drink before he answered. “There’s something triumphant about a little sociopath deigning to cuddle with you. It’s like winning a prize. Dogs love everybody. Too easy—”

“That’s not true,” I interrupted. “My mom’s three rescue dogs hate me. She got them because I won’t give her grandchildren. She treats them like they’re her babies. They’ve gone on more vacations than I did growing up and I’m pretty sure they have nicer bedrooms and better food.” Realizing that I might be revealing a bit too much about my issues with my mom, I shook my head. “But enough about that. I’m more of a cat person, too.”

It seemed like I was talking a lot. Was I talking a lot?

“I feel like I should grab a notebook so that I could make a list of all the things it turns out we have in common.”

“A list?” I echoed, my heart racing.

“I like making lists. It gives me the illusion of being in control.”

That was seriously the sexiest thing a man had ever said to me. I could only sit there with my mouth hanging open.

He briefly brushed his fingers against the side of my hair. “My guess is you’re that way, too. Everything about you seems a tad controlled. Even your hair.”

Without thinking, I reached up to touch the same spot on the side of my head that he had. This wasn’t about control, was it? It was about convenience. It took far less time to twist my hair and put it up than it would to leave it down and have to curl or straighten it.

And I liked being in control. Who didn’t? “I can be flexible. Totally flexible. Just as long as everything is going exactly the way I want it to.”

At that he laughed and the sound of it made me feel like my veins were full of fizzy champagne bubbles. “What’s not going your way now?”

“So many things. The bride’s mother is a total—” I caught myself and continued, “Has a strong affinity for liquor, and her ex-husband and his inappropriately aged fiancée make her nuts and in the past they’ve gotten into public fights and as Sadie’s maid of honor it is my job to make sure that there’s no Real Housewives moments.”

“Nothing’s happened like that.”

“Yet. Because I’m keeping an eye on things. I really want this to go well for Sadie.” And it wasn’t just because I was hoping she’d refer other people to me, but because I genuinely liked her as a person and wanted her to have the wedding of her dreams.

Yep, I was definitely talking a lot and had almost said things I shouldn’t have. It was like sitting close to him was just destroying all of my defenses.

He shifted slightly, somehow getting closer so that our knees pressed together. This caused a trembling sensation that started at my knee and climbed up into my stomach. I didn’t move away, and neither did he.

He said, “You could get on a plane tomorrow, and everybody at the wedding could start throwing punches and hitting each other in the face with folded chairs and Sadie and Dan would still be blissfully happy.”

“They really do love each other,” I agreed. “But I heard you weren’t much of a fan in the beginning.”

“I was a little worried that . . .”

“What?” I asked innocently when his voice trailed off.

“That maybe she wasn’t with him for the right reasons. But I was wrong. And I say when I’m wrong.”

I appreciated that, too. I’d dated more than one man who, if they’d been under the penalty of death, still wouldn’t have admitted that they somehow might have possibly been wrong at some point in time. “Me too. You can add that to your list.”

His expression turned serious. “Rachel, listen, there’s something I want to—”

Sadie and Dan had approached us. “We should do cake!” she exclaimed.

I was torn—I wanted to hear what Camden had been about to say, but I also really, really, really loved cake.

Dan brought it over and put it onto the table in front of me. It had white frosting with red icing roses—my favorite. It said Happy Birthday, Rachel in red writing. Dan grabbed birthday candles from his front pocket and started just putting the whole lot of them on top of the cake. There were so many I felt a bit insulted.

Especially when Camden added, “And exactly how old are you again?”

I was about to object to the whole blowing-out-the-candle thing. I hadn’t done that in years. I almost never celebrated my real birthday if I could help it. It usually made me stressed.

But I saw how excited Sadie was and I didn’t have it in me to resist.

Krista joined the rest of the wedding party. Mary-Ellen was laughing and hanging all over Vance and I tried to ignore the sense of relief that I felt.

Our waitress came in and offered to grab us another round of drinks and everyone said yes.

Once she left, Dan lit the candles and they all started singing “Happy Birthday” to me. Camden’s voice was rich and surprisingly on key, and I found myself focusing on that sound and keeping my gaze pointed at the candles.

Probably because part of me felt like a fraud. I spent so much time lying to people, but I was starting to really hate it this time. And I was pretty sure that was mostly due to Camden.