Hot Finish (Fast Track #3)(28)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Oh, Lord. Men never changed. “Uh-huh,” she told him, choosing not to give him a hard time, because she was feeling rather pleased with him.

Ryder laughed and leaned over and gave her a crumbly kiss on the cheek.

When she pulled into his driveway, she had a weird nostalgia fall over her like a blanket. They had done this before, pulled into this driveway together, many times when they’d been married. This had been their house, not his.

Shaking off the melancholy, Suzanne smiled at him. “Thanks for making sure I wasn’t the only woman around the campfire last night who didn’t get some action.”

“Likewise.” Ryder shot her a grin then opened the car door. Reaching in the back, he grabbed his duffel bag. “Have fun dodging Bridezilla’s tail today. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks. Have a good day.”

As she pulled away, Suzanne wondered if that was it.

She guessed it was.

“THESE are the ugliest suits I’ve ever seen in my life,” Evan said as he checked himself out in the dressing room mirror. “I feel like a Ken doll.”

“You look like one, too,” Ryder told him, adjusting his own tie in the mirror next to the other guys. “And I think technically these are tuxedos.”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a suit or a tux or a leotard, I feel ridiculous wearing it.”

Ryder wasn’t feeling the look either. “I hear you. I feel like I’m in an emo band with these skinny pants and skinny ties.”

Ty put on his jacket, then took it back off. “These are just weird. I feel very uncomfortable with all of us standing around in this room together trying on androgynous formal wear.”

“It was the style back in the sixties,” Elec said. Then he added in a low voice with a nod at one of the closed dressing room doors, “And just be grateful none of us are wearing paisley like Strickland.”

Ryder would raise a glass to that. Nothing about paisley on his body appealed to him. But if there was ever a day to cram him into something stupid, today was it, because he was feeling the afterglow, no doubt about it. Suzanne had been smoking hot last night, and while his eyes felt like he needed toothpicks to prop them open from lack of sleep, he was high on endorphins.

They’d left it, well, okay, too, which was good. Nobody had stormed off. Objects hadn’t been thrown.

That was the definition of progress.

They hadn’t talked about anything of importance or how they would handle seeing each other again, but that didn’t matter. One thing at a time.

“We’re supposed to be fishing today out at the lake, not stuck in this store trying on these dumb suits.” Ty unbuttoned the neck on his shirt. “Feel like I’m choking.”

“Yeah, well, as soon as everyone had a woman with them, guys’ weekend went out the window,” Evan said. “And with Jonas having to bring Nikki back for her appointment, Suzanne figured we should get this taken care of, so here we are. You all are lucky I got lucky last night or I’d be really pissed.”

“You didn’t want to be out at the lake anyway,” Ryder told him. “So what are you complaining about?”

“Oh, I can always find something to complain about,” Evan said.

Ryder let out a crack of laughter. “True that.”

“Guys, I don’t know about this . . .” Jonas came out of his dressing room trussed up in black satin paisley.

Not a good look for a big guy. He looked like a marshmallow crammed into a wet suit.

“Uh . . .” was Evan’s response.

“Holy shit,” was Ty’s.

“It looks better than I thought,” was Elec’s opinion.

Ryder was thinking they needed Nikki and Suzanne’s green light before they went ahead and paid for this mess. “You know, Strickland, let’s take a pic with your phone and send it to Nikki so she can see it. Maybe she’ll want you to go with the regular suit instead of the paisley.”

“You think so?” Jonas wiped his forehead. “I think only certain guys can pull this off and I’m not one of them.”

Truer words were never spoken. Ryder held out his hand. “Give me your phone. Let’s consult the women.”

SUZANNE took another sip of her lukewarm coffee and tried to keep her eyes open. She had been at three bridal salons with Nikki over eight hours and was ready to crawl under the velvet bench she was slumped on and fall asleep. It was a cruel irony that after not eating for two days and getting loaded on vodka, Nikki had absolutely no sign of a hangover today, trying on dress after dress with boundless energy. Suzanne hadn’t had a drop of liquor and she wanted to collapse into bed and sleep for the next twelve days.

“I’m getting old,” she told Tammy, who was sitting on the bench next to her, a crumpled-up rejected bridesmaid dress in her lap. “I need more sleep than I used to.”

“Eww,” was Nikki’s opinion as a new gown option was held up in front of her by the increasingly hostile saleslady. Not a single dress was pleasing Nikki, and Nikki wasn’t pleasing the salon staff with her obnoxious attitude.

The other bridesmaids had left when Nikki hadn’t been able to focus on finding dresses for them, preoccupied with her own gown. Tammy had been out shopping and had popped in to say hi to Suzanne after they’d texted and realized they were in the same shopping complex.

“Are you staying up too late? I can’t do that anymore either.”

Time to fess up. “Yeah, I stayed up late last night. Having sex with Ryder.”

“What?” Tammy sat up straight on the bench next to her and turned to face her. “Did you just say what I think you said?”

“Yep. I did the nasty with my ex-husband. Only he’s not really my ex-husband, he’s still technically my husband, which should make it okay, but makes it even weirder.” Suzanne shoved her shaggy bangs off her forehead, knowing she’d probably just made them stick straight up but not caring. “But I can’t say I regret it.”

“Oh. Okay, then. I take it it was . . . good?” Tammy studied her carefully.

“Of course it was good. Ryder’s a sure thing, if you know what I mean.”

“No. I really don’t.”

Sometimes Tammy’s naivete scared the shit out of Suzanne. She’d had more street smarts at six than Tammy had now, but that was part of her friend’s charm. “A sure thing. I know he can always get me off, no questions asked. Multiple orgasms.”