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She stood naked in his house and she was worried about saying the word shit? Really? I swiped a hand down my face again, trying to center myself. Trying to look everywhere but at her.

“I’m late,” she said. She darted into a room on the right. “Lynn is going to kill me,” she said from inside the room, her voice muffled. She squealed. “Could you help me?” she called out, her voice much louder this time.

I walked cautiously toward the doorway and leaned to look inside. She stood in front of me with her arms above her head, trapped in a dress she must have tried to get into without unzipping.

“I’m stuck,” she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Luckily, the dress now covered what I knew were her naked breasts. But her legs…my God…there they were.

“Today,” she snapped.

I took her by the shoulders and turned her away from me, because I thought it might be easier. But then when I looked down, I saw the two bare globes of her ass and realized what a colossal mistake I’d made.

“This just had to happen on this day,” she said, her voice still muffled as I unzipped her dress. Suddenly, her head popped free as the dress settled around her hips. She blew a lock of hair from her eyes, and her gaze skittered across my face. “Thanks,” she said. She stepped into a pair of nude heels, which brought her up to my chin. Around her neck rested a delicate strand of pearls, which were so at odds with her personality that they always confused me. She lifted her hair to the side. “Could you zip me, please?” she asked.

I grabbed the tongue of the zipper and slowly raised it. When I reached the top, I could finally take a deep breath. I hooked the eye at the top and stepped back.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

She darted through the door and into the hallway. “Be right back. I have to pee.” She dashed into the bathroom, then she came back. “Are you coming?” she asked.

“Oh,” I said, and forced my feet to move. My brain, and most of my common sense, were still in the hallway with Shelly, from a moment ago when I’d found her naked. “Yeah.”

“Lynn is going to kill me,” she whisper-chanted as she sprinted down the hallway. I had to jog to catch up. And I really needed to catch her since her dress was now tucked into her panties after her mad dash to the bathroom, and one of her ass cheeks could be seen if she moved just the right way.

When we reached the doorway that led into the sanctuary, Shelly reached for the door handle. I laid my hand over hers. “Wait,” I said.

“What?” she groused. She looked at me like I was the dirt beneath her shoe.

“You’re a little…” I looked for the right word. “Mussed,” I finally came up with.

Her brow rose. “Mussed?”

I reached a hand toward her hair. I stopped just short of touching her. “May I?” I asked.

“Yes, you may,” she said. “If you’ll hurry the hell up.” She looked up toward the ceiling again. “Sorry, God. What am I supposed to do when subjected to imbeciles?” She lifted her hands beseechingly toward the ceiling, like the answer would fall directly from heaven into her grasp.

I lowered my hand. This imbecile no longer wanted to fix her hair. Nor did he want to tell her that the back of her dress was tucked into her panties. “Never mind.”

She pulled the door handle and ran into the sanctuary, the clip-clop of her heels suddenly muffled by thick carpet. I followed her and turned to go down the aisle and take my seat next to Aubrey, a friend of Lynn and Mason’s. Her husband Mal stood next to Mason at the front of the church, and Shelly ran to stand next to Lynn.

Mason had chosen his best friend Mal to be his baby’s godparent. Lynn had picked her sister, Shelly. Shelly and Lynn were twins and looking at them side by side still startled me. They looked so much alike that it was ridiculous, but they were nothing alike at the same time. They shared some features, like their blond hair and blue eyes, and they both were of similar height, with strong, lithe bodies. The main difference between them was that Lynn had an air of kindness about her, and Shelly had an air of reserve. And strength. Strength seeped from Shelly’s pores. So did fuck-ability.

Lynn took one look at Shelly’s disheveled hair and lifted a lock of it, putting it back in place. Shelly patted the rest of it smooth. Lynn reached behind Shelly and adjusted the skirt of her dress.

“Please tell me that you didn’t just have sex with Shelly Punter,” Aubrey whispered from her seat next to me.

Sex? What? “No,” I hissed. “Of course not.”

She turned in her seat to face me. “Are you sure?”

“I think I would know,” I muttered.

“Promise?” she asked. Aubrey didn’t care much for Shelly, and with good reason. Shelly had once taken her into a dark, cold forest and dropped her off.

“We’re in a church,” I hissed at her.

“Never stopped her before,” Aubrey muttered. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and made a noise. I couldn’t even describe the noise if I wanted to.


Tags: Tammy Falkner What She Romance