Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men #9)(4)



I thought he was over that. He’d said he was over it. He’d even asked me to be his best man to prove it was water under the bridge. It still haunted me, yeah, but at least I’d been comforted by the knowledge he was past it.

Except how could he be past it if he was bringing it up now?

Damn, he wasn’t over shit.

Gulping, I glanced blindly around the reception hall at all the family and friends I knew so well. Since moving to this town when I was eight, I’d made a home here. It was my place of comfort and support, my safe haven. Yet as my gaze shifted over the familiar faces, I couldn’t help but wonder what they really thought of me now that they knew, which I’m sure most of them did. Nothing stayed secret long in our group.

I wanted to slink away somewhere quiet and lick my wounds, but a dance song thing started, and the crowd cheered when Brandt led Sarah to the edge of the dance floor so he could dance for her. Watching him, I remembered my mission and reluctantly returned my attention to Julianna.

I could hide my own misery behind my flirty smile and carefree attitude. It was what I did, what I excelled at. So it was what I’d do now too. Brandt needed me here, with her, so this was where I’d stay.

Julianna was watching him again, smiling in the saddest way as if she loved what she saw and yet it hurt her to keep looking at it. Misery etched every inch of her features. The rigid set of her shoulders didn’t even appear as poised and polished as they usually did. It was as if she was trying too hard, straining at the seams and about to burst any second.

With a sigh, I shook my head. Poor girl. I actually felt bad for her. She was a hot mess, and she didn’t even know it.

She really did need me to save her.

This was just too painful to even allow to continue. She should escape this reception before her bruised and tender feelings started bleeding out her pores. And since I didn’t know anyone else who could annoy her and send her running off in a huff faster than I could, I was just the guy for her.

It’d be like a mercy killing, really.

Okay, so wedding hookups and misbehaving was clearly off the schedule for tonight. It was time to be charming for an entirely different reason.

Cracking my neck one way, then the other, I rolled my shoulders in preparation as I strolled Julianna’s way. “You better be ready for me, baby doll,” I murmured because I was about to give her a big ol’ dose of Colton Gamble to the extreme.





JULIANNA’S CHAPTER | 2





I shouldn’t be here.

I had been telling myself variations of that very sentiment all day, starting with I shouldn’t go as I’d dressed for the wedding all the way to What the hell am I doing? as I’d entered the church. And here I was now, still filled with a torturous regret as I sat alone at a round table during the reception and watched a bunch of white people trying to dance to the “Cha Cha Slide.”

That was just plain painful all by itself.

Except for the groom. He looked adorable attempting to perfect the Charlie Brown. I could tell he was only on the dance floor to entertain his bride, who sat in her wheelchair a few feet in front of him and covered her mouth with her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks from laughing so hard.

A reluctant smile tugged at my own lips. Yeah, he was pretty damn cute with the way he so enthusiastically got into the song, shaking his ass at her. And that tux fit him like sin on an ice cream cone. Made a girl just want to lick—

Not that I’d ever licked that.

I was probably the only woman in attendance—aside from the bride herself—who’d gone on a date with him, though. Well, half a date. It had been kind of interrupted by, what do you know, the bride herself, and we’d never gotten a redo before he realized where his heart truly lay.

I didn’t blame the new Mrs. Gamble for ruining my date and crushing what might’ve been a grand, passionate romance. Not really.

But being passed over for someone else had been a bitter pill to swallow because I had liked Brandt Gamble. I’d liked him a lot, like enough to maybe even break my five-date rule of going all the way if that first one had ever made it to completion. Yet I’d never even gotten a kiss from him. I bet he was a good kisser too. His lips looked like the soft kind that made your toes curl as soon as they were within a foot of you.

He was damn-near perfect all the way around. Gorgeous, good humored, kind, compassionate, easy to talk to, and just rough enough around the edges to be a wholly and appealingly, hard-working guy.

Glancing away as the song ended and he swept forward to press his soft-looking lips against his wife’s, I cleared my throat, feeling vile for even thinking what I was thinking.

Who in their right mind attended a wedding to watch their old crush marry someone else?

Me, apparently.

I was such an idiot. I should just grab my purse, get up and leave already. I was better than this. If I put my heart into it, I could probably get any man I wanted. I didn’t need to mope over some unavailable—

Across the table from me, a guy in a tux slumped into a seat in a sloppy, drunken manner, saying, “Hey, sexy.”

I jerked my gaze up to the man’s face only to groan.

Not a man. Just a boy. Just a cocky, way-too-attractive for his mere eighteen years, boy.

The best man, aka Brandt’s annoying little brother, wiggled his eyebrows amorously. “You look good enough to have for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And that slit in your skirt, running halfway up your thigh...mmm, baby doll, that’s been driving me crazy all night.”

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