Chapter 1

As usual, this story continues the lives of folks we’ve met in other places, but is complete in itself. You do not need to have read earlier stories in the series, but if you have done, I hope you’ll enjoy glimpses into their futures. Please see my author page if you’d like a spoiler-free reading order for all connected stories.

“I think you have the wrong script,” suggested Rose.

Ozzy turned the paper over one-handed. “Fuck. Right. Which one is partner A?”

By the time they made it to the vows, even Michelle and Rose, who clearly knew the routine, were having trouble maintaining straight faces.

He squinted at the paper one more time. “By the authority vested, you know, in me, by a state that should fucking know better, I pronounce you, what, wife and wife? Which one do I tell to kiss the bride?” he asked. “You know, fuck, you can both kiss the bride.”

After that happened, which took a long time, with plenty of cheering, Ozzy announced, “I’m done. Are you sure about the ‘armonica?”

This time Sydney took his arm, turning him around and leading him to a table to sign a paper, after which Ozzy took off his glasses for a moment, suddenly looking much more feminine while giving the congregation an out-of-character grin. Ozzy received his (her?) own cheer, before leaving the stage to sit with an older guy whom I recognized as the band’s manager.

The band returned to their places. Unusually, Bianca acted as their spokesperson. “We’re not having any speeches,” she said, “but let’s give Rose and Michelle a final round of congratulations before we party. There’ll be snacks, and you all are welcome back on the dance floor.” She lifted a champagne glass. The wait staff had quietly been delivering champagne and occasional sparkling apple juice to the guests during the – for want of a better word – ceremony, in preparation for this.

“Most of you may be meeting Rose for the first time today,” she said, “but I promise you, she and Michelle are well-matched.” There seemed a touch of irony in her tone, though without any hint of rancor. The kind of tone that said, to my ear, that they were well-matched in shamelessness. Bianca wouldn’t be at all surprised that they were trying to solicit a third for their wedding night.

“To the happy couple!” she cried. “May they always rock!”

As we all toasted them, Michelle and Rose kissed again. Then Rose left the stage to join Ozzy and the band manager. Before she was even off the stage, Sydney’s guitar riff opened one of the band’s own songs.

Rachel was out of her seat in an instant. “C’mon,” she said, her eyes flicking between Lauren and me, but staying mostly on me.

“I need to eat,” I objected.

“I’m waiting for my sweetie,” said Lauren. “You kids enjoy yourselves.” I glared at her. We were the same age. She and I had dated in high school. She gave me an unrepentant grin. “I’ll be sure there’s food for you.”

“No excuse, then, Mandy,” Rachel yelled, holding out her hand. “And you still owe me.”

I rolled my eyes, but stood, moving around the table to take her hand, and for the next fifteen minutes we leaped around to the familiar songs, while I tried not to look like I wanted to peel off Rachel’s dress with my teeth. From the scalding looks she returned, I think I failed.

Glancing back, I saw that Mika had joined Lauren. There were plates on their table. “Break time?” I suggested.

Rachel frowned, but nodded. “Okay, but quick.” She reached out a hand. I thought she was going to take mine, but she ran a finger down my upper arm, instantly turning my skin to gooseflesh.

Lauren hadn’t only ensured that we each had food, she’d ordered us another beer. Now I definitely needed to eat to keep from getting completely drunk.

“Did you know about Ozzy?” Rachel asked Lauren.

“That’s Sheryl,” said Mika. “She’s a friend of Jon’s. She’s a local comedian.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” I said, between bites of my quesadilla. “She sounded just like Ozzy to me.”

“Her accent was spot-on,” Mika said. Mika always sounded to me like someone you’d hear on the BBC, or maybe Downton Abbey, so she was probably a good judge. “I usually hate hearing Americans trying to sound English, but she was good.”

“I wasn’t expecting the Elvis distraction,” said Lauren.

“Yes, they had to tell me about that,” Mika replied, “so that I would be looking in the right direction when Sheryl entered.”

Rachel didn’t give me time to finish my food or beer, insisting we could do that after the set.

“I’m glad to see the two of you have reconnected,” offered Mika. “No more sneaking out of shows?”

“Shh!” I hissed. Mika had covered for me when I left her art exhibit. “Rachel doesn’t know about that time.”

“Babe,” Rachel said, “you’d have attracted less attention if you’d danced out playing a trumpet. Of course I know about it.”

Well, shit. Obviously she knew I was trying to avoid her, but I didn’t realize she’d seen me actively running from her.

I gave her a rueful half-grin. “Busted. Again.”

“Seems to be your night.” Blue eyes glinted with amusement. “Now let’s get back out there. I’m sure there will be time later for the rest of the food and beer.

“Let me finish this,” I said, waving my half-eaten quesadilla.

She’d called me babe. I knew it was no more than a name for a friend, but it added to the uneasy thrill I was feeling being around her. Rachel wanted to hook up with me, again. The one night we’d spent together had been mind-blowing. That was over two months ago, now. Time during which I’d successfully avoided her. Time that I’d had to blow the memory up into something it may never have been. Time to recall how the experience had been head and shoulders above any of my other casual encounters.

Reliving the night would either be a huge disappointment, or it would be yet another yardstick against which to gauge my lackluster sex life.

Rachel didn’t date. She was strictly casual. As was I, since my divorce, back in Colorado. My one-night stands met my physical needs. Rachel, though, had met a need that I thought I’d back-burnered. One I’d pushed aside since dating my ex, and the earliest days of my marriage. One that, bluntly, scared me.

It had to be the molly, or E, or whatever the pill was that Rachel had taken. It simulated emotional closeness, and her need for me inspired my need for her. Which made me feel connected to her in a way I hadn’t in years, for anyone.

Now Rachel apparently believed it wasn’t the E, it was chemistry between us. If she was right, where would that leave us? With an itch that neither of us would be willing to scratch? I didn’t want that. I finished my food.

“Are you going to join us?” I asked Lauren.

She smiled, shaking her head. “Still no. I don’t want to ignore Mika. It’s V-day!”

And though her fiancée tried to encourage her to dance and enjoy herself, she took her hand and held firm, leaving me alone with Rachel. Alone in a crowd of a few hundred, that is.

I leaned close to Rachel so that I didn’t have to yell too loudly. “Looks like they’re going to do just fine without me.”

She frowned, not understanding, until she followed the direction of my gaze. One of the waitresses was standing beside Rose, her cheeks a deep red. Rose’s chin was resting on her hand, an unmistakably sultry expression on her face, her intention clear even from this distance. Sheryl, blue glasses back in place, was watching the situation wearing Ozzy’s grin.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a look I recognize.” She turned back to me with a smirk. “Question is, is she recruiting for her wedding night, or setting up a date for herself?”

I shrugged. I had no idea.

I was facing her, rather than the band, when a new song began, more quietly, with subdued drums and guitar.

“Oh, you won’t have heard this one,” said Rachel. She grasped my hips and turned me to face the band, her hands moving to my waist. “Undertown. You’re in for a treat.”

The song was a dark, rasping ballad, like nothing I’d heard from them before, and Rachel was right, it was worth paying attention too. Though it didn’t distract me from noticing that Rachel’s hands slipped forward, crossing over my belly. Her chin rested on my left shoulder as she drew me against her.

My dress had a low back. Not ass-crack low, just below the shoulderblades, but I felt dress fabric and soft skin against my back as I swayed with her, covering her hands with mine.

When the song ended, Rachel’s hands stayed in place. I applauded, but made no attempt to pull away from her, even though the next song was back to the band’s more usual hard rock.

Rachel’s teeth touched my shoulder. Right where… oh, God, I didn’t want to think about that now. Turning my face far enough that my lips almost touched her cheek, I yelled, “You are so not playing fair!”

“You’re just scared because you know how good we’re going to be together,” Rachel said, her teeth brushing my earlobe.

That was truer than she knew.

Completely ignoring how close my face was to hers, she pressed her lips to my pulse point, toying with it before grazing her teeth over it. Her lips travelled higher, her breath tickling my ear as she said, “Are you going to invite me to come home with you?”

“If I say yes, will you quit what you’re doing before I start dripping on the floor?”

Rachel burst out laughing, right into my ear. I squeezed my thighs together. “How could I possibly stop after that?”

Crossing my arms over my stomach, I wrapped my hands around hers. At least I could stop them roaming. Her breasts continued to shift against my back as we moved.

I still hadn’t committed, but I knew I wasn’t going to turn her down. I leaned my head back again. Rachel stopped nibbling my neck to be able to hear me. “Okay,” I said. “Would you like to come to my fairy cottage, or would you prefer your place? I added a pair of cats since the last time you visited. Will it be a problem?”

Rachel laughed. “Babe, are you seriously asking me if I’m allergic to pussies?”

I wasn’t even going to engage with that. I moved back to focus on the band for the last few minutes. When the show ended, Michelle announced that there would be no encores for obvious reasons. We traipsed back to our table, where more quesadillas and beer awaited us. Mika was packing away her camera gear.

“Can we take Rachel with us?” I asked Mika, who was our designated driver, since she’d been working. My standalone apartment, also known as my fairy cottage, was in the grounds of her house, and she’d brought her fiancée and me to the show. Party. Wedding. Whatever. “It’s okay if there isn’t room, I’ll take an Uber with her.”

Mika’s eyebrow was raised high. That wasn’t surprising, given that she knew how diligently I’d avoided Rachel before today. She nodded readily, though. “Of course. I can squeeze my bag into the trunk.”

Rachel grasped my hair again as she yelled. Then she began to quake. Her sex pulsed against my tongue. Her thighs tensed with the effort of staying upright. She moaned as she continued to crest.

“Fuck, Mandy,” she managed, her voice unsteady, as she regained control. “God. The way you touch me…”

That gave me a warm thrill. It implied there was something about me that reached her, as if I wasn’t just the random sex partner of the week. Still, this was casual.

“If I’m going to keep touching you the way I want to, we’re getting a shower,” I said.

“Mmm, that works for me.” Rachel’s breathing was still heavy. “I really need to see you naked, right now.”

Taking her hands from my hair, I held them as I stood, then lifted them. “Hah! I was right,” I said, then lifted her right hand up to her face. Two strands of peach-colored hair were wrapped around her middle finger.

“I should try for more next time?” Rachel asked.

Intertwining my fingers with hers, I leaned forward. “If you want to see my head naked, too, I guess,” I said, then kissed her, allowing her to taste herself on my tongue, but breaking away before the kiss could become too intense. “Shower,” I said, scooping up her dress before dragging her through my apartment.

Not wanting to get my black dress wet, I detoured through my bedroom, where I hung her dress in my closet, then let her take mine off. She didn’t dawdle, though she took her time examining the result. I loved how her eyes took in my much less athletic body with so much desire.