The Bridesmaid Wore Stains
Poor Kat. Her best friend Debbie insists Kathleen-the-Klutz wear her ugliest bridesmaid's dress to Debbie's wedding. Worse, Kat must bring a plus one! Much worse, if Kat can't get up the courage to ask her new boyfriend, Gary, Debbie threatens to set Kat up with Kat's childhood nemesis, Luke, as a substitute. Can Kat avoid staining her new relationship with Gary long enough to see Debbie down the aisle, or will her trademark clumsiness condemn her to a bridesmaid's worst nightmare?
|Title||The Bridesmaid Wore Stains|
|Author||Conda V. Douglas
|Release||November 29, 2013|
|Tags||Romance, Bridesmaids, weddings, humorous romance, dating, dating disasters|
"Most people don’t, when they’re being maimed. Especially when it’s that part."
Debbie snorted. I hoped she didn’t make that sound during her wedding vows. Although, knowing Bruce, he’d love it if she did. Talk about a wild sense of humor.
"Exactly why you have to ask Gary to the wedding," she insisted.
"So I can maim him?"
Debbie covered her face with her hands. "No silly, so you can get over this whole ‘no relationship with me will ever work because I'm a stumbling disaster’ attitude." She dry scrubbed her face, as if she could wash away our argument. "Ask him." She looked up, mascara smeared.
I smiled at her adorable look. Now, if it was me with raccoon eyes...
"I'm betting he’ll say yes," Debbie continued. "You've been dating for what? Three, maybe four weeks now? If he didn't like you, a lot, he wouldn't keep asking you out."
"But that’s because he doesn’t really know me yet," I blurted. "When he does know how I always spill…" I looked down and saw a large tea stain on my new silk blouse.
"How could he date you," Debbie pointed at the stain on my shirt, "and not know you?" She grinned. "It’s what I love best about you, girlfriend. Always have, always will."
Of course, I remembered. I’d been terrified my best friend would out my inner klutz to Gary.
"I’m betting he feels the same," Debbie said.
"Nope," I said. "I’ve been extra careful on our dates."
"How?" Debbie asked, one eyebrow raised. Did she know me that well? Yes, she did.
"I don’t drink anything except water." I flung my hand out to point at my water glass and succeeded in knocking it off the table. "And I only order salads with no dressing and eat the big pieces. Very slowly. Nibbling." I’d lost five pounds since starting to date Gary a month ago. One benefit. But now I could fit into my most awful bridesmaid’s dress. Maybe not such a benefit.
Debbie put both hands on the table, palms down, the firm stance she’d learned from being a secondary school teacher for years. "Kat, how do you know what he feels about you if you’ve never been yourself?" Her skeptic’s eyebrow disappeared into her bangs. "And why still date him if you can’t be yourself?"
"Because—because—I’m—" I didn’t have any answers. Or rather I did have an answer, a simple one. Being myself meant being dateless for the rest of my life. I so wasn't ready to go celibate forever.
"Because you're hot for his bod," Debbie finished for me. She leaned back. I sat with a mouthful of my spaghetti, afraid to swallow. Oh yes, that gorgeous, gym rat hard body of Gary's. I told myself that I also liked his smile. I told myself he even preferred the same meals as me, salads with no dressing. Or at least that's what I told myself, over and over, as on our dates I forced forkful after forkful of the somehow dry lettuce down my throat. Sigh. But that glorious body…
"I'm right, aren't I?" Debbie leaned forward toward me. I refrained from warning my friend to stay out of my strike zone. "So just ask him."
I speared some more of my spaghetti preparatory to stuffing my mouth. I hated it when Debbie was right. She often was right. Okay, almost always, I decided as I remembered last night’s date when Gary and I almost kissed. Almost. Once the silk of his lips brushed mine, I’d swallowed the gum I’d forgotten I’d had in my mouth. Then I'd choked and sprayed spit all over his shirt. The moment had passed, boy, had the moment passed.
Now the spaghetti never reached my lips. Instead it dribbled down over the tea stain.
"You’re right," I said to Debbie. "I want to jump on top of him and ravage him in the good way, not my usual call 911 way. That’s why I need to date him until…" I pointed at my lunch on my chest, "…until I don’t do this stuff any more." The spaghetti rolled down to rest on my white pants. "And my bridesmaid dress will out me as a super goof."
Debbie grinned and teased, "So you won’t wear purple and pink and be my maid of honor?"
"Your wedding will be my last hurrah as the old Kathleen." I grabbed her hand. "But without Gary."
Debbie pulled out of my grasp. "Unh-huh, maid of honor, you come with Gary or…" She leaned forward and gave me the "teacher says" look. Nobody of any age dared disobey those lowered eyebrows.
"Or what?" What punishment could my evil BFF have in mind? I shuddered.