Chapter 3

Beau Chastain came from old money, and he was marrying new money in Felicity Holstein. The difference was Beau didn't give a shit about the number of dollars in a bank account-probably because he didn't know what it was like not to have them.

Those same dollars defined Felicity. This was where old money and new money differed. Old money had always been; for generations, these families were rooted in wealth, so no one alive knew what it was like not to have it. Whereas, new money typically came about with the dot-com era, and they flashed it as often as they did their business cards. And Felicity was definitely a flasher.

Felicity Holstein was one of those girls who went to college to find a husband. And once they were married, she had their lives planned out. Not one minute of it would be spent in Harden, Georgia, either.

Masyn and I begged Beau not to propose at Christmas, but the fool did it anyhow. They graduated from college two weeks ago, and she couldn't wait to add her name to his trust fund. I swear, if their parents wouldn't have gone ballistic, Felicity would have tried to get him to elope.

Eight minutes after she had disappeared inside, the front door reopened, and Masyn threw her crap in the back. Wrapping her fingers around the oh-shit handle, she then used the running board to hoist herself up. No sooner had she settled in the seat than she reached out to poke button three on the stereo at the same time she buckled her seatbelt. "Let's go."

"You got everything? We won't have time to come back."

"Yep."

"Dress?"

"Got it."

"Shoes?"

"Check."

"Makeup? Jewelry?"

"Unfortunately, yes to both."

She didn't need either. Her skin was like porcelain-even when it was marked with streaks of black from a machine, it was perfect and smooth.

"Pantyhose?" I had no idea where that question came from.

Masyn didn't respond. Instead, she stuck her hand in her pocket under the seatbelt and pulled on a wad of what I assumed were hose. They stretched but finally broke free, and the leg snapped across the cab of the truck and popped me in the face.

"Got it." She laughed, and her eyes glittered with humor.

The melodic sound brought a grin to my lips. "What about clothes to stay at my house tonight?"

"I'm not staying with you, Lee. You can bring me home."

"What if I drink too much?" This was an ongoing battle. She didn't really drink. I did. Masyn felt it was her duty to get me home safely after every field party, night at a bar, or...rehearsal dinner. Since she usually drove her car, that made dropping me off easy. Tonight, not so much. She was no stranger in my home, so I didn't know why it mattered where she slept.

"I'll take your truck home after I drop you off."

"Like hell. Go get clothes." It wasn't like she didn't have her own room at my house. Other than Beau, Masyn was my best friend in every aspect. We'd never hooked up. Never shared a bed. Hadn't so much as kissed.

"Can't I borrow a pair of boxers and a T-shirt?"

Music to my ears. "Have it your way." I put my hand behind her headrest, turned to look over my shoulder, and backed out.

"Do you think this is going to be as bad as we're anticipating?"

"Stick with me, sweetheart. I've always got your back."

Her little fist landed on my exposed ribs.

"Ugh. Damn, that hurt. What the hell, Masyn?"

"Stop calling me sweetheart. I'm not one of your minions."

I'd never stop calling her sweetheart. I didn't care how many times she hit me. Each bruise was a reminder of me ruffling her feathers, which I loved to do. "I'm sure it won't be as bad as either of us are expecting."

When Beau came home last summer and announced to his family he wanted to propose at Christmas, they were thrilled. We were not. In the land of the Chastains, the Holstein name was as prestigious as their own, just in a different circle. The girl could have been an absolute hag and they still would have encouraged the union in order to expand their realm. Although I'd hoped they had seen redeeming qualities in Felicity that Masyn and I had yet to become acquainted with. I didn't want to believe Beau's parents would encourage a marriage for social status.

But I guess I was wrong back then.

Masyn shook her head slowly as she spoke. "I don't know, Lee. She didn't even try to get to know us when Beau brought her home over Christmas. And anytime I tried to talk to her, she snubbed me. I thought that crap only happened in movies. It was clear she thought we were beneath her."

"If that were true, she wouldn't have asked us to be in her wedding party." It was a lie, and we both knew it.

Beau asked me to be his best man, and I had no doubt he forced Felicity to include Masyn on her side, or he would have put her in a tux on his. Beau came from class, and at the heart of it, he was as Southern as the two of us. The three of us met in kindergarten, and if it hadn't been for us, Beau would have had his ass beaten on more than one occasion. He didn't come into his own until high school.

The glare I received in retort told me Masyn thought the same thing I did. "Not even you are that oblivious."

"Who cares why we were asked? Would you really want to miss being a part of Beau's wedding?" I already knew the answer. I'd asked myself the same question countless times.

"He's making a mistake." She was adamant.

"Agreed." There was no point in trying to dissuade him.

I'd yet to see what Beau was attracted to. Outwardly, Felicity was a knockout. Unfortunately, the moment she opened her mouth, she lost all her appeal. Catty. Shallow. Pretentious. Those were a few of my favorite adjectives to describe her. The only thing I could figure out was that this girl had some magic pussy and gave it up freely. Even that wouldn't be enough to make me listen to her wail like a banshee for the rest of my life. I'd rather be alone and get a dog.

"Promise me you won't leave me by myself with her harem?" Masyn was tough as nails.

I had no doubt she could hold her own with Felicity and company, but if she needed my reassurance, I'd always give it. "Isn't a harem some kind of sexual group? Like one man, a gaggle of women?"

"You know what I mean. I don't fit in, and she'll make sure I know it." Her arms were folded across her chest, and her bottom lip poked out slightly.

"Maybe we're being unfair. Felicity was only here a few days over the holidays. It was the first time she'd met Beau's family and his two best friends. That's a lot of pressure."

Masyn cocked her head and looked at me like I'd sprouted a third arm. Without another word, she turned the radio up so loud, even my thoughts plugged their ears and shut down. Angry-girl music would only serve to rile her up. Thankfully, my house was only a couple of blocks farther.

Watching her while keeping my eyes focused on the road was difficult. I knew these streets like the back of my hand, but I couldn't account for oncoming traffic. As much as I'd like to get lost in the sight of her, ending up in the hospital because I'd totaled the truck wouldn't be good for anyone. I opted for quick glances from the corner of my eye, and I took a second to admire her when I searched for other cars at a stop sign.

I parked in front of the garage and grabbed her bag and dress from the back seat. She hopped down to the cement, and I got lost in the bounce of her thick hair. The light hit it at just the right angle, bringing all the different colors out like a kaleidoscope.

"You coming?" She shut the door without waiting for me to answer.

When I came up beside her, she snatched the keys from my palm and opened the front door. She moved so quickly, I caught a hint of her in the air, and it lingered in my nose. Most guys enjoyed soft smells on women-lilac, vanilla, roses. Not me. There was nothing sexier than the scent of burnt oil on Masyn's hair. She did a man's job every day, yet there wasn't a hard edge to her other than that scent. It contradicted everything about her. Her voice was as feminine as they come, soft like an angel. Stylists would envy her hair. Dermatologists would praise her skin. And models would covet her perfectly proportioned and dainty body.

I followed her inside and kicked the door closed with my foot. She tossed my keys on the counter as she passed the kitchen and beelined for her bathroom. Technically, it was the guest bathroom, but Masyn was the only guest I ever had, so by default, it was hers. I dumped her bag on the floor next to the sink and then leaned in to hang her dress on the back of the guest room door-also hers.

"You've got an hour before we need to leave," I reminded her.

"I'll be done before you are."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Depends. Is it a cash bar tonight?"

"Seriously doubt it. It's the Chastains' tab."

"Hmm." Masyn tapped her finger on her chin.