Pink Champagne Page 2

  “Quen? Are you okay? You really sure you want to do this?” Macon asked, putting a hand on Quenby’s arm and one on the side of her face like she had a fever or something.

  “Yeah. I’m good.” Quenby nodded. “I’m just sorry you guys came all the way here for nothing.” Macon had come from Georgia and Talitha, her third bridesmaid, had come down from D.C. for the wedding.

  “Are you kidding me? Don’t even say things like that,” Talitha said.

  “Yeah. We came to be with you, and we’re doing that. Wedding or not.” Macon rubbed her shoulder.

  Quenby nodded and gazed around the room. The cement-walled building was divided into two main spaces—a multi-purpose room and a kitchen. Not much to look at ordinarily, but with the flowers, candles, ribbons, and other decorations Quenby, her friends, and her family had spent the day and half the night before putting in place had transformed the place.

  The DJ set up in a corner of the multi-purpose room. Her mom’s catering crew had set out a buffet-style dinner. Why not? Everyone was already there, everything was already cooked, and there was a whole lot of food that would go to waste otherwise.

  “Quen, have you had anything to eat yet?” Indigo asked.

  “Not hungry.” Quenby sipped from a flute full of pink champagne.

  “Quen, you need to slow down on the champagne.” Indigo raised her eyebrows as Quenby took another sip.

  This was only her third glass. Yeah, on an empty stomach, but so what? “I guess we had a pretty good turn out for this, considering.” Quenby looked around the room. None of Derek’s guests had showed—not surprising. A few dozen of Quenby’s guests were there, though. Everyone looked kind of somber. It seemed like they didn’t know they were supposed to be partying. And when people came up to her, they seemed not to know what to say. They probably didn’t feel like they could offer congratulations to her. But they should have. She had plenty to celebrate. She’d regained her common sense and barely escaped a lifetime of misery.

  Indigo said, “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. We could call it all off. You know I have no problem telling these people to go home. Most of ‘em just came here for a free plate anyway. You know Uncle Jessee did.” Indigo and Quenby waved to Indigo’s uncle. He nodded to them, mouth full of fried shrimp, and waved back.

  Quenby snorted, waving her glass of champagne around as she made a gesture showing that she wasn’t concerned. “The only thing wrong is these people aren’t having a good time. The D.J. needs to pick up the pace or something. Once we start really having a party, everything will be fine. I’m gonna go talk to him right now.”

  Quenby went to the D.J.’s table. While she was talking to him, and telling him what songs she wanted him to play, Adia walked into the room.

  “Well. What the hell?” Quenby murmured.

  “Huh?” the D.J. said.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said. She walked over to Adia and asked him, “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to make peace with you,” he said.

  “I thought you weren’t coming to my wedding,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. A little champagne splashed out of her glass and dribbled over her fingers, but she ignored it.

  He pushed his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. “I wasn’t. But, uh, Macon told me what happened. So I decided to show up for your freedom party. Figured we could talk.”

  “Huh. Really. Macon called you?”

  “She sent me a message.” He tapped the face of his phone, which rested on his hip in a belt clip, with his thumb.

  “Let’s go out there for a minute,” Quenby nodded toward the small hallway that connected the main hall of the community center to the kitchen. She called over her shoulder to the D.J. “I’ll be back. In the meantime, get these people dancing.”

  They walked to the hallway. She leaned against the wall and took a sip of her champagne. He was taller than Quenby, which was impressive considering she wasn’t all that short, and she was wearing heels. He looked down at her with that gorgeous, angular face that got him way too much play for his own good. His thick, dark hair, olive green eyes, and Italian ancestry gave him a male model prettiness that just wasn’t fair.

  “I’m sorry, Quenby,” he said.

  “Which part of it are you sorry for? What you did to Macon? Generally being an idiot, or?...” She took another sip. She’d refilled her glass generously when they passed the table full of pink champagne bottles on their way through the “party” room.

  “All of it, but especially Derek and what he did to you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but—”

  “He’s a jerk. Better to know now than once it was all legal.” Quenby stared up at him. “But you’re right. I’m not ready to hear it yet, ‘kay? This morning, I had plans to spend forever with that jerk.”

  “Thank goodness you dodged that.”

  “I wasn’t being smart, okay?” Remembering all of the doubts she’d pushed aside about marrying Derek in those last months, she wondered what was wrong with her. Had she been so desperate to find “the one,” she’d tried to force him to be it even though he clearly didn’t want to be? “Fine. I was being the worst kind of idiot. Happy?”

  Adia brushed tears from the corners of her eyes. “Hey. Don’t you start. I’ll have to hunt him down and give him the fist in the nose he deserves if you do.”

  She laughed. “Always trying to rescue me from my bad choices, huh?” In college, Adia had broken a guy’s nose for spreading rumors about Quenby.

  “Somebody’s gotta do it.” He grinned. “So am I forgiven?”

  “Have you asked Macon that yet?”

  His grin faded. “All of us know that was a mistake. A bad, bad mistake. I’ve been trying to make up to both of you for that for a long time.”

  Quenby shook her head. She’d warned them their relationship would only lead to trouble. And she’d been right. He could get girls to drop at his feet anywhere any time. Why did he have to go into their group of friends, causing drama?

  “Macon came after me,” Adia said as if reading her mind. “Remember?”

  “Just don’t do anything like that again.”

  “Deal. Forgiven?”

  She smiled. “Sure. And thanks. For today. I might’ve gone through with it if not for you.”

  “Of course.” He hugged her. “Now let’s go dance.”

  After dancing and mingling for a while, Quenby wanted to be outside by herself. Get some fresh air and clear her head. She grabbed half a bottle of champagne and headed outdoors.

  The community building was at the back of a small subdivision, near the woods. It faced out onto a small artificial pond. The early evening sun shimmered off its surface, adding a little gold to the green-blue water.

  She let the back door of the building close behind her and wandered down to the pond’s edge. The sight of the pond against the backdrop of trees with their rust, yellow, and brown colored leaves made for a picturesque late September scene. That was where the wedding party would have taken photos.

  Her attention was drawn to movement in the reeds. A man with wavy blond hair stepped onto the grass. He’d rolled the cuffs of his wrinkled khakis halfway up his legs, but his pants were still wet around the bottom. Water droplets clung to his thick, muscular calves. Small rivulets of water streamed down the wet hairs on his shins.

  She looked into his grinning face. His hazel eyes crinkled at the edges. He was the type of person who smiled with his whole face, and you could tell it was genuine when he did.

  He stuck out a hand for her to shake. “I’m Caleb.”

  She shook it. “Quenby.”

  “You’re Macon’s friend.” He drawled in a deep Southern accent—sounded like Georgia. She recognized the accent as similar to Macon’s. Macon was from Marietta, a suburb outside of Atlanta.

  “Yeah. You know Macon?” She’d never seen him before, but there were several people at the party she hadn’t seen before.

  Caleb nodded, ru
nning a hand through his golden blond hair. It was a little too long in the back and fell over the collar of his wrinkled white shirt. “Yeah. She’s my cousin. I was at the church, but you had a little too much going on to notice me, I’m thinking. I came up here to be her…to come to—for this.”

  “It’s okay. You can say it. It’s not like anybody died.” Yet. She took a swig of champagne from the bottle. “What were you doing in the pond?” She pointed to the pond behind him. His shoes—she presumed the beaten up pair of dark brown loafers resting in the grass were his—were closer to her than to him.

  “I got bored in there.” He nodded toward the building behind her. “I didn’t really know anyone. I haven’t talked to Macon since she got here. She was with you, then she went off with that prick I hate almost as soon as y’all got over here from the church. So I saw this pond, came out here, and I wondered about how deep it is.”

  “What?” She narrowed her eyes curiously.

  “Yeah. I like to fish, boat, anything to do with water. And I love standing in water, walking through it. Feeling mud and sand between my toes. It’s pretty warm out today. Thought I’d get in just to see what the water in this fake pond was like.”

  “Okay.” He might have been strange, but he was really attractive. Broad shoulders. Tan, golden skin. She could imagine too well what the shape of his chest and biceps were like under that white button-down. What they felt like. She really wanted to go beyond imagining.

  “Hey, uh, I’m sorry. About what happened. I don’t even know him, but I know he doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Thanks.” Quenby swirled what was left of the champagne around in the bottle.

  “You’re way too pretty to let go of. I’d do whatever it took to keep you from getting away from me.”

  Great. A cheesy come-on line. It was nice to hear, though. He was probably expecting some easy rebound booty. Maybe she wanted to be easy rebound booty. “Thanks.”

  “What you got there?” he asked, pointing to the bottle.

  “Pink champagne,” she said.

  “Hm.” He moved closer. “Don’t believe I’ve ever tried that.”

  “Want to try it now?” she asked. She wasn’t sure if it was the champagne, how sexy he was, or some combination, but she was hot for Caleb. She held the bottle out to him.

  “Okay, sure.” He grabbed the neck and took a couple swallows. “Tastes like a fancy wine cooler to me.”

  She laughed. “And you’re a connoisseur of these things, I take it?”

  He gave her a smoldering look. “I know what I like.”

  “You do?” She put a hand on his shoulder stared at his lower lip, which looked very kissable. “Do you see something you like right now?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said.

  Before she could over-think it, she covered his lips with hers. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and the champagne bottle pressed into her hip. His other hand moved to the back of her neck, and his thumb caressed her nape. He kissed her softly, but insistently in a way that made her think of all the other things he might be good at using that tongue. She moaned as he gently nibbled her lips before covering her entire mouth with a kiss again. If they didn’t stop soon, they were going to give anyone who glanced out of the window quite a show. The problem was, she didn’t want to stop.

  A goose honked, breaking the trance. She looked up, mortified. “I’m so sorry. Oh God, this is embarrassing.” Her fingers flew to her kiss-swollen lips. She realized he was smiling. Not a smirk. Just a smile. A nice one.

  “Don’t worry about it. You never have to apologize for kissing me.”

  Realizing they were still locked in an embrace, she reluctantly disentangled herself. “I can’t believe I did that. I was going to get married a few hours ago.” She mumbled the words to herself, but he replied to them.

  “Kissing the bride’s part of tradition, right?” He held the bottle of champagne out to her.

  She shook her head and pushed it away. “Keep it.”

  “If you insist.”

  “Okay, well, if you come back inside, enjoy the party,” she said. “Take some food home with you. Please. We have a ton. And—I’m just going to go now.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Quenby.” He called the words out to her as she quite literally ran away.

  “Yeah.” She called to him over her shoulder without ever stopping.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” Quenby muttered, continuing toward the community building. She had never done anything like that, and she didn’t want to want Caleb. She’d narrowly escaped marrying a guy like that. She needed to start going after a different type of guy. She needed to leave the flash and dash heartbreakers alone. But first, she needed a break from all men.

  Still. She’d never shared a sexier moment with anyone. She’d had sex that hadn’t been as good as the kiss she’d shared with Caleb. He kissed her like there was nothing else in the world he wanted to do.

  He kissed her like he was hungry for her. Starving. How would she ever put a man out of her head who kissed like that? She touched her fingers to her lips again.

  She needed to stop. He was just a stranger. A sexy stranger she’d kissed in a moment of rebound weakness.

  She needed to put an end to that horrible day. The best idea would be to go home and take her sorry butt to bed. Still, thoughts of that kiss and everything she wanted to do beyond it wouldn’t leave her alone.

  Chapter 4

  Caleb wandered into the community center not long after Quenby did, carrying the bottle of pink champagne. He was in a little bit of a daze. Being kissed by a gorgeous stranger wasn’t something he’d expected to happen. When he’d agreed to go with his cousin to some wedding, he never expected so much…excitement.

  Adia walked up to him, and Caleb clenched the neck of the champagne bottle.

  “I saw you two. Outside.” One thing about Adia—he didn’t mince words.

  “Okay,” Caleb said.

  “She’s one of my best friends. It’d be smart for you to stay away from her.”

  “Macon’s my cousin. Did you stay away from her?” Two things Caleb couldn’t stand. A liar and a cheater. Partly because he’d been done in by both and partly because lying and cheating were just plain wrong no matter what the circumstances were.

  “I made some mistakes, but Macon did, too. I never lied to her.”

  “I don’t care what you think you did or didn’t do. You broke her heart, asshole, and I think you need to get out of my face right now.” It was taking huge effort for him not to punch Adia in the face and cause a scene. Quenby had been through enough for one day. He didn’t have to know her well to know that.

  “Quenby is special to me. She’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had. And I’ll tell you right now, I’m very protective of her. In fact, if I saw Derek on the street somewhere, I’d probably end up in jail, and he’d end up in the hospital.”

  “If I’d been there last night, he would be in the hospital right now.”

  Adia narrowed his eyes. “All I have to say is, you mess with Quenby? You won’t like what happens to you.”

  “I wouldn’t pull any quick and dirty moves on her. That’s not my style.” He pushed past Adia and went to find his cousin.

  Quenby had grabbed his full attention right away. And she still had it. The sight of her face when he’d walked out of the reeds had nearly stopped his heart. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. Eyebrows raised over her large, brown eyes. Pretty, full lips slightly parted. He’d had the urge then, and the memory brought it right back—he wanted to run his fingers through her soft brown curls and close his lips over hers in another kiss.

  He hung back when he saw Macon talking to Quenby. He wasn’t sure she wanted to see him again so soon. She’d seemed embarrassed by the way she’d acted out by the pond. Still, he hoped that wouldn’t be the last time he saw her. He and Macon were supposed to head back to Georgia tomorrow evening. That was a problem.

  Even i
f Quenby didn’t want anything to do with him—and he hoped that wouldn’t be the case—he had to at least try to talk to her again.

  #

  The next day, Quenby went to Adia’s apartment. She and some of their other friends were supposed to go to brunch together before the out-of-towners headed home. He lived with another good friend of theirs from college, Ron. They all knew each other because they’d all been college athletes, and the athletes tended to stick together. Even after graduation.

  Quenby sat on the couch with a cold washcloth draped over her face. It was boiling hot even though Adia had several fans going. Indian summer in Virginia. The A/C had broken, and Adia’s landlord moved slower than a glacier when it came to fixing things. He probably wouldn’t get around to the A/C until next year since it was almost October. Quenby could just hear what the landlord would say in his thick Hungarian accent, “It is winter now. You wait. I fix next year.”

  So Quenby was a bit uncomfortable in the stuffy apartment. It didn’t help that she still felt pretty crappy after her quality time with the champagne bottle the day before.

  Adia came and sat next to her on the couch.

  “Why did you let me drink so much?” Quenby asked.

  “It’s not like I could stop you.” Adia lifted a corner of the washcloth from one of her eyes. “You gonna live?”

  “I really made a fool out of myself last night,” Quenby said. It was just an observation. A true one.

  “Not like you didn’t have good reasons.” He handed her a glass of water, and she rested it against her knee. “At least you got rid of his sorry ass before it was too late.”

  Quenby was about to reply when the door to the guest bathroom opened. Caleb walked past the living room and paused in front of the door to the third bedroom. He seemed to do a double-take when he looked her way. Quenby gasped, unable to hide her shock. When she’d heard the shower running earlier, she assumed it was Ron in the bathroom.

  “What’s he doing here?” Quenby couldn’t believe the guy she’d made out with and proceeded to make a fool out of herself in front of last night was standing right there. And more attractive than she remembered. His huge biceps were exposed, but she was much more interested in his abs and pecs. He wasn’t wearing anything but a towel. Lucky towel.