Taking things too far. Ha!
This from the man who practically invented the phrase, and who was totally the raunchiest stripper at the charity fundraiser last year, by far. Just thinking about how shameless Jamison was on the catwalk is enough to inspire a fit of giggles even now, months—and many other scandalous memories—later.
Besides, if I’m wilder than I used to be, it’s his fault. He brings out the naughty in me as much as a triple shot of whiskey.
Speaking of whiskey…
I lean over to where Naomi is buckling into the van’s passenger’s seat. “Are you still good to drive everyone back here and take me home? If you’re not, that’s fine, I just want to know before I tell the bartender to make me a double Jack and Coke to soothe my frazzled nerves.”
“I’m fine to drive,” she says as I start the van and pull carefully down the alley, rain coating the windshield in sheets. “I won’t be having more than one drink. Jake’s at the station tonight and I’m on solo Noelle duty. She’s been sleeping through the night most of the time now, but it’s not a sure thing, and I don’t want to be buzzed getting up to make a bottle at three a.m. Babies and hangovers don’t mix.”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” I say. “That’s why I’m getting all my partying out of my system before November.”
“You and Jamison are still going to start trying around Thanksgiving?” she asks.
I nod but keep my squinted gaze firmly on the road as I guide the van through the parking lot and out onto Main Street, where water rushes in twin rivers down either side of the street. “Assuming Jamison still wants to have babies together after the past few days. He’s been such a turd about the bachelorette party. He would barely speak to me tonight when I was getting dressed, and usually he can’t resist this tube top.”
Naomi laughs. “He’s just protective of Faith. He still thinks of her as a kid. He’s worried the strippers are going to scar her for life or something.”
“She won’t be scarred for life,” I say with a frustrated sigh. “He’s being ridiculous. And if her fiancé doesn’t have a problem with strippers, I don’t see that Jamison has any right to put his oar in.”
“When has that ever stopped him before?” Naomi asks, chuckling again. “And I bet he’s jealous, too,” she adds as I pull into the parking lot at the bar. We totally could have walked if it weren’t raining like crazy. It’s literally four blocks from the bakery. “I’m guessing he doesn’t like the thought of you ogling other guys.”
I roll my eyes and shut off the van. “That’s ridiculous. And Jake isn’t jealous.”
“No, but Jake has the confidence of at least four men,” she says, affection obvious in her voice. “He’s positive I’m not going to see anything better than what I’ve got waiting at home. And we’re an old married couple now, too. That helps. I bet Jamison will be more laid back after the wedding.”
The wedding.
God, it’s so close now I can hardly wait.
Grumpy Gus or not, I’m so ready to marry that man of mine.
“Speaking of weddings,” Faith says, popping her head into the front. “I have a surprise for you, too, Maddie. So don’t run off without telling me.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I say. “I was happy to do this for you, babe. Every girl should have a big send off with friends.”
“I know, but you’re getting married a week after we are,” she says. “I think you deserve some bachelorette fun, too.”
I wave a dismissive hand as I unlock my seat belt and reach for my umbrella. “I had my bachelorette party before my first marriage. I’m all about marriage do-overs, but one bachelorette party was enough for me. I’m too old to wear goofy hats.”
Faith shoots me a narrow look. “Goofy hats? No one mentioned goofy hats.”
I grin. “It all awaits you inside, my sweet baby-sister-to-be.” I turn in my seat, pleased to see the rest of the ladies in the van grinning, umbrellas already in hand. “Ready to make a dash for the door?”
The women let out an enthusiastic whoop as Kitty reaches for the sliding door and the party dashes through the hammering rain toward the bar. We make it into the cool darkness of The Horse and Rider without anyone slipping on the sidewalk and ten minutes later are ensconced in a gigantic circular booth, sipping pink Lady Slippers while Faith opens her party gifts and Ghost Town Double Wide—the Rider’s house band—plays a set of girl-power-inspired country songs.
I got a great deal on the booking, considering Melody’s the lead singer.
She’s amazing on stage, as usual, and by the time Ghost Town nears the end of their set, our entire party is out on the floor shimmying, while couples wheel around us, grinning at the women cutting loose. Even Faith—in a bright orange construction cone hat that warns “caution, bachelorette on the loose”—is up and moving to the music with a big grin on her face, a fact I consider a triumph after hearing her talk about how much she hates dancing for the past three weeks.