Bad Bridesmaid (Billionaire's Club Book 11) Elise Faber (most read books of all time txt) 📖

at each other, then back to his woman. “And that’s worked so well.”

Another tinkling laugh and she leaned closer, waving a hand in their direction. “Ignore them,” she said, pitched loud enough for the table to hear. “They mean nothing.”

“I resent that comment.” From Cora.

“Meh. I don’t need your romance. I’ve got my own.” Courtesy of Kate.

“Well, I, for one, am enjoying the banter. How do those two keep it up?” Via Kels.

“No idea. It’s kind of sickening.” Added by Stef, who had her casted ankle propped up on a chair.

“Actually,” Heidi said on a shrug, “it’s a gift.”

He leaned closer, whispered in her ear. “I thought we were supposed to be ignoring them.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Right.”

Except, she didn’t say anything.

Probably because, same as him, she’d been having so much fun bantering with him that she couldn’t remember what they were supposed to be talking about.

“What were we talking about?” he asked.

Her eyes twinkled, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t remember.”

Chuckling, he thought back, remembered. “Dinner tomorrow,” he said. “With the frightening supervillains known as the Moms.”

Heidi linked her hand with his, stretched up, pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re just still upset with them because you got in trouble about the wedding cake.”

“A man ruins one stupidly expensive cake, and he never hears the end of it,” he muttered.

“Rightfully so,” Kate chimed in from across the table, drawing them out from each other. “I never even got to eat my lemon layer.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, adopted a mournful expression. “Oh, the humanity.”

“I did say I was sorry,” he said, knowing she was joking but still feeling guilty about the entire scenario.

“I’m just teasing.” Her face immediately gentled. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was your cock’s fault,” Heidi said.

And by said, he meant practically shouting it across the table . . . right when the restaurant had one of those periodic lulls in conversation . . . which meant that she shouted it across not just the table, but the entire restaurant, too.

Her cheeks flamed as conversations paused, stares turned to her, and then she just shrugged helplessly, setting down the margarita. “Whoops,” she whispered. “I guess one margarita goes to your head when you don’t eat all day.”

“You say that like there’s ever been a time that one margarita hasn’t gone to your head,” Kate teased.

“Fair point,” she replied.

Brad was more concerned about the fact that, “You haven’t eaten all day?”

Heidi winced, patted his shoulder. “Don’t get all scowly.” Her fingers brushed over his lips. “I was out of muffins, and Molly’s was closed by the time we got back yesterday.” A shrug. “I meant to stop for lunch, but I forgot. And then I drove to your place when you didn’t meet me . . .” Another lift and drop of her shoulders. “The day just ran away from me.”

He snagged Jaime’s nachos, shoved them in front of her, ignoring his brother’s, “Hey!” and ordering her to, “Eat. Now.”

She lifted a brow. “Remember what I said about orders?”

He leaned in, whispered into her ear, his cock twitching when she shivered and shifted closer, “You said you only like my orders in bed.”

Her head turned, those green-brown eyes coming to his. “I do like them in bed.”

Bringing his lips to her ear again, he murmured. “Well, consider that off the table unless you eat the fucking nachos.”

For a moment, she melted against him, her shoulder resting against his chest.

Then his words seemed to process, because she straightened, eyes narrowing into a glare. “I ought to kick you out of my bed altogether.”

He leaned in, nipped at her bottom lip. “You’d miss me.”

“Ouch,” she muttered, rubbing the lush curve of her mouth.

“You like it,” he countered.

She made a face. “So, what if I do? I still don’t have to put up with your—”

He lifted a chip crammed with meat and beans, salsa and sour cream, cheese and guacamole and shoved it into her mouth.

Her glare was back.

But then it softened.

She chewed, swallowed. “I fucking love you, even when you drive me insane.”

“I—”

“Love you,” Cora interrupted, drawing the focus of the table. “And yadda, yadda, yadda. It’s so predictable and lovely, and I’m insanely jealous.” She threw her hands up. “Look, I’m happy for you fuckers, but I’m surrounded by gushiness on all sides here! Is it too much for me to ask you to give a single girl some relief around here and not to rub all your HEAs in my face?”

Stef, the only other single girl at the table, nodded. “I second this motion.”

Kate opened her mouth, an apology in her expression, but Cora shushed her with a finger in her direction.

“As I said, I am happy for you all. So, no freaking apologies.” A beat. “But can we just cool it with the soul-deep declarations? Just through the main course?”

Silence.

Three couples’ gazes meeting, guilt drifting between them.

“I said no guilt!”

“Well, technically, you said no apologies,” Kelsey pointed out.

“Ugh,” Cora said.

“Can the soul-deep declarations resume over dessert?” Kate asked innocently.

More silence.

Then “Ugh!” Cora and Stef said at the same time.

But then the waiter came and began delivering entrees, and pretty soon the group was overtaken by the latest drama on the episode of 90 Day Fiancé, and Brad had such a good time hanging out with his woman and her friends—now his friends, too—that he forgot all about the thing with Heidi’s eyes, the undercurrent in her voice.

Later, he wished he’d remembered.

Wished he’d pushed to get to the bottom of it.

If only he had . . . because so much would have turned out differently.

Twenty-Four

Heidi

She woke deliciously sore but in the best possible way.

Last night had been the tequila night to end all tequila nights.

She, Kels, Cora, Stef, and Kate had decided to share a pitcher, and thus, it put all other tequila nights to shame.

And it made her look forward to finding other ways to top it, to make future tequila nights even better.

She was going to