Free If the Stick Turns Pink... by Carla Cassidy Page A

it is, I imagine you two have been going at it like rabbits for years.”
    â€œUncle Jack!” Melanie exclaimed as Bailey laughed.
    â€œAh, loosen up, Melanie,” Uncle Jack replied, then ambled away from their table.
    That’s exactly what Melanie tried to do as the party wore on. She danced the obligatory first dance with Bailey, cut the cake with him and shared a toast. But with each moment that passed, rather than loosening up, she was tightening up.
    Bailey on the other hand was definitely getting more and more loose as the night wore on. She’d lost count of the number of glasses of champagne he’d drunk, but the intense sparkle in his eyes and the slight flush on his cheeks let her know he was precariously close to his limit.
    She, too, had drunk more champagne than usual, but each glass she drank seemed to make her more stone-cold sober. Tonight. The thought of her and Bailey in bed together caused every nerve ending in her body to tingle with a strange kind of energy, and the sensations were only getting worse with each passing minute.
    She looked out onto the dance floor where Bailey was dancing with her aunt Nancy. He’d shed his tux jacket long ago, and his shirt was unbuttoned to expose a tuft of dark chest hair.
    Bailey loved to dance and he did it well, moving with a natural rhythm and grace that Melanie had always envied. She had two left feet on the dance floor and considered dancing as desirous an activity as a root canal. Bailey had already danced with nearly every woman in the room, and in the past hour the crowd had begun to thin.
    Melanie thought it was protocol that the bride and groom leave the reception before the bulk of the guests did. With this thought in mind, she stood with the intention of reining in her husband and taking him home.
    Her husband. Bailey’s mother’s ring on her finger felt cold and alien, as it had from the moment he’d slipped it on her hand.
    He was her temporary husband, but also her lifetime friend, she reminded herself, and this thought dispelled some of the tension she’d been feeling about the night to come.
    She stood at the edge of the dance floor until the band stopped playing and Bailey and her aunt stopped dancing, then she walked over to Bailey. “I think it’s time we make an exit,” she said. “It’s customary for the bride and groom to leave before the guests.”
    â€œIt is?” He cast her a big grin. “We certainly want to be customary, don’t we?” He threw an arm around her shoulder, and as they made their way toward the door, telling people thank you and goodbye, she noticed he was more than a little unsteady on his feet.
    â€œMaybe it would be best if you drive,” he said asthey approached his truck. He dug into his pocket for the car keys. “I’ll be fine by the time we get to my place. I’m just feeling a little bit woozy.”
    â€œI’ll be happy to drive.”
    Within minutes they were heading in the direction of Bailey’s house. Bailey, apparently still functioning beneath the haze of an alcoholic buzz, was talkative, as she knew he tended to get when he drank.
    â€œDid you have a good time?” he asked. “I had a great time,” he replied, not waiting for her to answer. “I never knew it could be so much fun to get married. Stephanie and I didn’t have a reception or anything like that. Of course, if we had, she would have been totally ticked off with me for dancing with everyone. But you aren’t mad, are you?”
    â€œNo, I’m not mad,” she replied, keeping her gaze focused on the road. “I know how much you love to dance.”
    â€œThat’s one good thing about you and me, Mellie. We understand each other.” He reached over and patted her on the shoulder. “You’re a champ, Mellie.”
    She wasn’t feeling like a champ. As she parked the truck in front of Bailey’s house,