“Yes.” He happily took the keys and walked around to the driver’s side. Whitney hadn’t expected anything less. Like Mick, Eddie nitpicked when she drove. According to the pair, she was too fast, too quick to switch lanes, and never properly signaled. Mick swore he lost ten years off his life the first time he rode with her to the grocery store.
Whitney slid into the front seat as Eddie placed her backpack in the back. She watched with amusement as Eddie tried to squeeze himself into the seat. His knees were jammed up to his chest. He looked like a giant. His hand slapped around between the seat and the door. “Where the hell is the button to adjust this thing?”
“It’s down here.” Whitney leaned across the center console and ducked her head down by his legs. She felt around until her fingers found the raised ridges of the buttons. The seat slowly moved back and down. “Better?”
“Your head is between my legs, sugar.” He grinned wolfishly. “Of course, I’m better.”
Whitney sat up a little and nipped at his chin. Her hand curved along the inside of his thigh. She grasped as much of his huge package as possible in her small hand and gave a seductive squeeze. “Ever fucked in a parking lot?”
Eddie groaned. “You’re going to kill me.” He reluctantly moved her hand away. “And, no, I haven’t and don’t plan to try it out anytime soon. I’m an officer of the law, Whitney. I just can’t.”
Pouting, she returned to her seat and buckled her seatbelt. “You’re no fun. Mick would have knocked back the seat and told me to hop on for the ride.”
Eddie frowned as he turned the ignition and put the A/C on blast. “Yeah, well, Mick is a hotshot surgeon with plenty of cash to burn through. Me? Not so much. One ticket like that would tank my career.”
Guilt slashed at her. She’d been unfair to Eddie.
“I’m sorry.” She reached across and touched his hand. “You’re right. That wasn’t a fair comparison to make. Anyway”-she smiled-“I like that you’re always the responsible one.”
“That makes two of us.” Eddie started out of the parking lot. “Where we going?”
Whitney gave him the name of the hotel and the directions. He knew of a faster way to get there, of course, and they sped out of the parking lot. Like always, they disagreed over what radio station to listen to as they drove across town. Eventually, Whitney acquiesced to Eddie’s preference since he was driving. She wasn’t happy about listening to hair metal but reminded herself it was better than Mick’s favorite talk radio any day.
As they joined the line of cars queuing up for the hotel’s valet, Whitney spotted friends and waved. She loved a good party! Eddie seemed less than enthusiastic as he inched forward slowly.
“What’s wrong, Eddie?” She stroked the back of his neck.
He shrugged. “I’m not good at this kind of thing.”
“Social events?”
He nodded. “I always feel out of place.” His gaze followed a couple getting out of the car in front of them. “I mean, look at these people. I’m not one of them.” He swallowed hard. “This is more of Mick’s crowd, you know? Educated. Polished. Movers and shakers.”
“Eddie,” she said softly. Before she could find the right words, they were moving forward and stepping out for the valet.
Despite his assertion that he wasn’t polished, Eddie did everything right. He curved a protective arm around her waist and led her into the hotel’s opulent lobby. Whitney noticed the turned heads as they made their way to the ceremony room. She couldn’t blame them. Eddie in a tux was a mean combination. Hard and lean and so ridiculously sexy. She’d have to keep her hand on him all night or else he’d be the one fending off drunken bridesmaids.
Whitney loved seeing so many old friends. She hadn’t seen many of them since the fall shows in New York. The busy pace of the fashion world made it so difficult to keep up long-distance friendships. Weddings and baby showers seemed to be the tent poles holding up their relationships.
She made sure to introduce Eddie to everyone. She loved the way they were all so surprised and interested by his profession. Whitney hoped Eddie could see himself the way other people saw him. So what if he didn’t have a doctorate or a six-figure salary? He put his life on the line every day and was a true hero.
They found seats in the middle on the bride’s side. The room had been exquisitely decorated. Whitney marveled at the flowers. A small string quartet sat in one corner of the room and played a selection of soothing music. The change in tunes signaled the arrival of the bridesmaids not long after the groom and his party filed into place.
As a group, the guests stood and waited with bated breath for the bride’s entrance. Whitney felt tears prickling her eyes as Christy headed down the aisle on her father’s arm. She looked stunning in the simple lace sheath.
When they resumed their seats to watch the ceremony, Whitney was surprised by Eddie’s arm curling around her shoulders. So much for his weddings-stink stance. Mr. Tough As Nails apparently had a soft side.
His thumb stroked her shoulder as the couple exchanged vows and rings. Her heart soared with happiness for her friend as the minister pronounced them husband and wife. She stood and joined the rest of the guests in applause as the pair stood as a married couple for the first time before their family and friends.
And then it hit Whitney like a freight train barreling down the tracks.
That was something she would never have with Mick and Eddie. It simply wasn’t possible. Two men and one woman couldn’t get married. Not legally, of course. It was one thing to keep their relationship behind closed doors, but eventually people would find out and gossip would spread and then what?
The fashion world would probably be more open to such an alternative lifestyle choice, but Eddie’s cop buddies and Mick’s medical colleagues? Oh, god. She couldn’t even bear to think about how terrible the two would be treated if the truth about their threesome came out. Eddie would probably face the most problems in such a macho, testosterone-heavy field.
Her belly lurched. Such a beautiful moment ruined by reality. She held tight to Eddie’s arm as he led her out of their aisle and out to the reception in the ballroom. There was nothing to do about it now, she decided. Best to plaster on a smile, have a drink, and try to forget.
For now, at least.
Grateful to be home, Mick flopped onto the couch and toed off his Crocs. His tired feet throbbed as he propped them up on the arm of the sofa. He draped his arm over his face and enjoyed the quiet peace. Soon, Eddie and Whitney would be home from the wedding. He just hoped they weren’t hoping for some late-night nookie. He’d have to plead a headache and exhaustion just this once.
Mick’s back and hands ached fiercely. Hours upon hours in surgery patching together the victims of a god-awful bus crash had taken its toll. Of course it happened when they were down a trauma surgeon. Thankfully, Maggie had gotten back into town early from her anniversary trip to Napa Valley with Charlie. She’d been an absolute doll to come in and take over for the night.
Although he desperately wanted a beer to take the edge off, Mick was on call and had to settle for a handful of ibuprofen washed down with a glass of chocolate milk. He considered going to bed but didn’t have the energy to drag himself off.
“Fuck, I’m getting old,” he declared aloud. Just a few months short of thirty-six, Mick was finally starting to feel his age. Those crazy-ass hours he’d worked without complaint as an intern and resident were hell on his body now. At least he had Whitney and Eddie to come home to every night. That made it all a little easier.
Speaking of the devils, he thought as the garage door opened. He only saw one set of low headlights and decided Eddie must have left his truck at the hotel or Whitney’s office. He wouldn’t have to worry about one of them blocking him if he had to run out in the middle of the night to answer his pager.