Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

MIRA

I walked away from Logan before I got myself into trouble with him. And the guy definitely was trouble. The fun kind, but still.

I had been warned about him and I heeded warnings from people I trusted. Well, for now, anyway.

Maybe later, I'd change my mind. I appreciated that my friend had been trying to help me when she'd warned against hooking up with the cocky best man, but sometimes, a girl needed a little dash of cocky in her life.

Especially when that girl is me.

As long as what was attached to that little dash of cocky wasn't so little and didn't come with any complications, I was happy. But for now, I was keeping my options open.

Winding my way through the crowd, I headed to the women's washroom and bumped into Mickey at the door. My friend was standing in it, struggling to get through in her wedding dress. I smiled as I walked up to her before she'd seen me, pushing the door open further and holding it for her as I swept out my free hand.

"After you, ma'am."

Her head snapped around to face me, a relieved smile spreading on her lips when her eyes met mine. "Thank God, you're here. This might not be the poofiest dress ever, but the corset is so damn tight that I can't move properly and the skirt still has so many layers that I'm not sure what I was thinking trying to do this by myself."

I laughed as I followed her into a cubicle, holding the door wide open and keeping an eye on the main door as she tried to wedge herself in between the toilet and the wall. "This is going to be interesting."

"You say interesting, I say near impossible. How do people do it in bigger dresses?" She arched a brow at me, her shoulders shaking with barely restrained laughter of her own as she started clawing at the many layers of her skirt.

I surveyed the space available, then pushed a foot against the cubicle door and bent over, sliding my fingers under the satiny hem of the skirt and kept going until I finally hit skin. She squealed at the first contact, giggling as she tried to remain upright while I started lifting the skirt.

"Your fingers are so cold!"

I laughed. "That's because I was holding a beer. Can you bend over at all?"

"Nope, not really. You're going to have to put it in my hands."

I glanced up at her with a grin tugging at my lips. "Let's hope that's the last time today you have to say those words."

"It will be," she teased. "Mostly because I wouldn't have to tell my husband to put it there. He'd just do it."

"Lucky you," I joked. "I don't think that's how it's supposed to go down on your wedding night, though. If he just puts it in your hands, he's doing something wrong."

"Trust me, he doesn't do anything wrong when it comes to that." She laughed and wagged her brows at me before she clutched the skirt and started shuffling forward to make her way around the toilet.

I backed up, picking up my beer from the floor where I'd set it down and giving her some privacy as I headed into the cubicle next to hers. "Let me know if you need any more help!"

"I think I've got it from here," she called back over the wall. "You might just need to check that my dress isn't stuck in my panties when I'm done."

I laughed again. "You're making it seem so special to be a bride."

"It is pretty damn special," she said dreamily. "It's just the peeing that's hard because this damn thing doesn't allow for much movement, but it's so worth it."

"It's worth it needing help to go to the bathroom? I don't know. I was potty trained when I was two and I've been doing pretty okay all by myself ever since."

"Two?" she echoed. "Boy, your parents were lucky. It took me until Henry was three, and even then, the accidents only stopped around four."

I grimaced, finishing up and then meeting her at the sink while I was washing my hands. "And all of those are reasons why I'm not getting married or having kids. I can move just fine in my dress and I don't have to worry about any accidents outside of those that can happen at work."

"To be fair, those are way more serious than having to put a kid in a diaper at night," she said, leaning against the white porcelain of the sink as I passed her a towel to wipe her hands. "It really is worth it, you know. This dress is just for one day and it's really pretty comfortable, but getting to call Jude my husband? That's everything."

I looked back at my radiant friend, seeing the excitement sparkling in her eyes and the dreamy softness of her expression. Warmth swelled in my chest and I smiled, reaching out to squeeze her forearm after drying my hands.

"I love seeing you this happy. God knows, you deserve it after everything you've been through, and he's so darn great with Henry. You really couldn't have asked for a better man."

"I know." She let out a contented sigh. "That's my point, though. That man is still out there for you, and I'll help you pee when it's your turn, so you don't have to worry about the dress."

I shook my head. "Thanks to all the men I'm surrounded by on a daily basis, I'm definitely happiest not having one waiting for me at the end of the day. God, there's only so much testosterone any woman can take and I have to deal with more than my fair share."

She wrinkled her nose apologetically and inclined her chin. "You could be right about that. I still don't know how you do it, but as long as you're happy, I'm happy. Especially since you managed to make it to the wedding. It means so much to me that you came. I know how busy you are."

I waved her off with a soft snort. "Work is not more important than one of my oldest friend's weddings. I'm just sorry I couldn't be more involved with everything that came before today. Like the bridal shower and the bachelorette party."

"You're here when it matters." Mickey smiled as she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a hug. "Seriously, Mira. Thank you for coming."

I slid my arms around her waist and squeezed her. "Of course, I would be here. I am sorry though, Mickey. Not only for not being there in the run-up to the wedding, but I know how rough things were for you before. Why didn't you tell me?"

She let out a soft sigh as she pulled away, shrugging and then glancing at her feet. "I didn't want to be a burden. Knowing Tess was so worried about me was bad enough. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry all the way from wherever you were."

I put my hands on her shoulders and ducked my head to meet her eyes again. "You would never be a burden. Just because I'm not always in town doesn't mean I don't care or that I don't want to know, Mickey. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad things have worked out so incredibly well for you, but if you ever need me for anything, I'm only a phone call away."

Tears glistened in her eyes as she nodded, her reply coming out as little more than a whisper. "Thanks." She cleared her throat, straightening up and squaring her shoulders as she turned to face the mirror. "Are you having fun so far?"

Soft laughter bubbled out of me as I nodded. "Yeah, I really am. I've even been hit on, which was a nice change of pace from my everyday life. "

"Why? Because men are usually scared of you?" she joked, but she wasn't completely wrong.

In my industry, women were scarce. Those of us who had made it had to be one of the boys, and we could never show any interest in any of the men around or the others would eat us alive. "Something like that."

She glanced at me with a smile. "Who was it that hit on you?"

"Logan. It was hilarious, actually. He's a smooth operator, I'll give him that. He has that boyish charm thing going on and he seems more real than the usual, slick-tongued guys who think they're saying everything right, but just wind up giving you the creeps."

"Yeah, he's real, alright. A real scoundrel, that is. I mean, he's a great guy and he's got a good heart, but with women?" She shook her head, meeting my gaze in the reflection of the mirror. "He'll hit on anything with legs, which is not to say that you're not drop dead gorgeous. Obviously, you are, but he's a fuck boy."

I smiled at her reassuringly. "I know. Tess already warned me."

I was curious about him, though. Fuck boys weren't known for making great partners, but they were good for one thing—and that happened to be the only thing I was really after. Day in and day out, I worked in a completely male-dominated field.

Because of how I had to handle myself professionally, I was never looked at as a woman—let alone a beautiful one. It felt good to have Logan looking at me like I was a tasty treat he was looking forward to devouring.

As I thought it over, I wondered if I would change my mind after all. Maybe I deserved a bit of no-strings-attached fun tonight before it was time to go back to reality on Monday.

Mickey applied some more lip gloss and slid the tube back into the side of the bra in the corset. Then she grinned at me. "I better get back out there. You ready?"

I nodded. "Let's do it."

As I held the door open for her again, I gave her one last smile before we parted ways, with her going off in search of her new husband and my eyes scanning the venue for Logan. He really was exceptionally good looking, with sandy, light brown hair that had blonder streaks shot through it and these warm, golden blue eyes.

It didn't hurt that his dove gray wedding suit fit him like a glove or that he'd loosened his powder blue tie and the top few buttons of his shirt. It gave him an easygoing, roguish look, but at the same time, he was still polished and clean-cut—not at all like any of the men I worked with.

Still at the bar, he was chatting to a few of the guys, but as I stared at him, he suddenly turned his head to look at me, a slight, knowing smile appearing at the corners of his lips when our eyes met. Acting fast, he said something more to the guys he was with, then pushed away from the bar and sauntered over to me, his gaze never leaving mine.

I stood still, letting him approach me and enjoying the fact that he was chasing me despite having been shot down just a few minutes ago. Why not give him a shot?

Ten minutes later, however, he was annoying the living crap out of me and I was wondering if I should start looking for an exit plan, but ultimately, I hadn't decided to give him a chance for the scintillating conversation. Now I just had to decide if enduring said conversation would be worth an orgasm or two at the end of the night, or if maybe, I should just turn to my trusty vibrator for that and forget about him once and for all.