“Now Brooke, you’ll get to see her tomorrow. I promise that your mother and sisters will take good care of her for you.” Henry walked over to his daughter and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“But Dad…” Brooke’s blue eyes looked first to her father then searched the room for some form of understanding.
“I don’t know, Brooke.” Samuel stepped forward, rubbing his chin. “I’d have to agree with Henry on this one. Besides, my little girl doesn’t need any bad luck, now does she?”
“Yeah, Brooke.” Peter spoke up. “Why don’t you just let me do my job? I’m the master of ceremonies for the night.” The young rocker looked around the room to the others and made his excuses, “I mean, since I’m your oldest and longest buddy.” Peter smiled at Brian and Rick. “I got a great night planned for all of us.”
“You’re the master of ceremonies, Peter?” Brooke made a face as she sank back down into the chair. “Oh God,” the dark-haired woman groaned, and then grinned at her friend. Taking in a deep breath, Brooke resigned herself to her fate. “Okay, so where are we going?” She looked over to Peter with a disgusted look on her face. “Which strip bar or titty club did you reserve for us?” She waited as her longtime friend crossed the room and leaned into her ear to speak.
“Well, it would have been really great if they would have let me get you that lap dancer.” Peter shot a glance over at the collective group of men and chuckled nervously.
“A lap dancer?” Blue eyes got bigger as she looked at her ex-band mate. “I don’t think so.” Brooke crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat back in the chair.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you would either…” Peter mumbled out half heartbroken when he noticed the little upturned corners of Brooke’s mouth. Looking at her, he encouraged her to speak. “Come on, what are you thinking, buddy?”
A lazy smile stretched across Brooke’s face as she remembered Sam’s little dance from their first date. “Not unless that dancer is Sam.”
The woman stared straight ahead as the blonde’s image danced through her mind. It lasted for only a few seconds before a man’s head popped into her line of vision. She brought the hazy face into focus and was startled to see Samuel looking directly at her. Brooke quickly reigned in her thoughts and stood up. “So, ye ol’ master of ceremonies, where are we going and what are we doing?”
“You’re not seeing Sam until it’s time for the ceremony so forget it, Brooke.” Henry teased her. “It’s your last chance to get all those…” her father coughed, sharing a glance to the other married men in the room, “wild oats out.”
“Dad,” Brooke smiled sweetly. “I don’t have any wild oats to sow, remember?”
Henry turned from his daughter’s view and chuckled. “Trust me, you’ll wish you had.” He winked at Sam’s father and both of them began to laugh.
“Okay Pop, whatever you say,” Brooke shrugged, “but you’re not going to scare me.”
“That’s what you say now,” Brian warned. “Just wait.”
Peter held his hands up. “Okay, keep it down. We got more then enough time to get rowdy later.” He flashed his devilish grin. “I thought we’d keep the night to ourselves. You know, learn from the masters here.” He pointed to the four married men in the group. “I thought that they could teach us…uh…I mean you, a lot.” He put his hand on Brooke shoulder and winked, then turned to the masters of marriage. “What do you say guys, got any advice for ol’ Brooke here on the night before her wedding?”
Brooke rolled her eyes and sighed. “Oh, this I have got to hear.”
“Yeah,” Brian shouted out. “Don’t do it.”
“Hey, speak for yourself, Brian. I kind of like being married to Terri,” Rick said with a satisfied smile.
“Yeah right, Brian. I’ve never wanted to do anything more in my entire life.” Brooke’s blue eyes flashed with expectation.
“Well, just wait until the kids come. Then we’ll see what you say,” Brian replied teasingly.
“You know, you are kind of responsible for that, Brian.” Brooke mock glared at her brother-in-law. “I don’t have to worry about any kids just popping in.”
“Okay, simmer down guys,” Peter got in between Brian and Brooke. “Simmer down.” He looked from one to the other until their stoic faces showed signs of delayed grins. “Alright, that’s better.” Peter’s face took on a relieved smile. “Now come on. I’ve got some little games for us to play.”
“Games, Peter?” Rick seemed confused. “Isn’t that what they do at women’s parties?”
Brooke hung her head. “Oh no… I remember how your games go.” She looked up into her longtime friend’s eyes. “Buddy, I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”
The grin on Peter’s face rivaled the one on the Cheshire cat. “Yeah, games. I figured that since Brooke really is a…a…” the man winced as if in severe pain, “…a girl,” he shook off the thought. “We should give her a little taste of that side too.” Peter revived his devilish grin as he wiggled his dark eyebrows. “But with a manly approach to it.” He puffed out his chest and held it there for a few seconds, then looked around the room for approval. “How’s that, guys?”
The woman watched as all eyes slowly turned to her. “Uh-oh…” Brooke said as she slowly sank back down into the chair.
“Here you go, Sam.” Terri handed her the same decoratively wrapped package, again. “I’ll let you start off with mine, now that you’re done showing old Randi there the bathroom.”
“Thank you, but you didn’t have to,” Sam offered as she took the package, seeing the rest of the gifts now spread out on the table in the room. “You all didn’t have to.”
“What, and not welcome you into the sisterhood of married women?” Randi balked, “No way.” The lawyer smiled as she watched Sam start to open the present.
Waiting until Sam’s attention, along with everyone else’s, was fully consumed in the gift, Randi passed the flask of liquor to the woman seated next to her. The silent exchange ended with a nod of Crystal’s head as she tucked the flask into the back of her jeans.
Handing the discarded paper to her sister, Sam took the lid off the box. The shock of what she saw was soon written on her face, as her green eyes grew as big as saucers.
“What’s in it?” C.C. started to get up to see better. “Come on, hold it up, Sam.”
The blonde cleared her throat, as she reached in and delicately held up the very sheer, see-thru nightie. Holding the skimpy looking top up in the air, the tiny thong that it was paired with remained in the box. Sam could already feel the heat of her blush crawling up her neck as the rest of the women voiced their sentiments on the gift.
“Wow! What’s the point of that?” Sarah gawked at the barely there nightwear. “Heck, the way that Brooke is, I bet she rips it right off of you the minute after you put it on.”
“Now, that would be such a waste of a lovely outfit,” Sandy looked over to her young niece with a glare. “I’m sure that Brooke would never do such a thing. She’s a well-mannered girl.” Sandy smiled as she met Mable’s gaze.
“Well, I thought it would add to the…ah…the…” Terri tried to get the heat off of Sarah. “Hey, I saw it and I liked it. Hell,” the pediatrician looked down to her slightly bulging stomach. “I can’t wear it for a while, so I got it for you.”
“Gee, thanks Terri.” Sam snatched the thong from Sarah’s hand and put it back in the box, along with the top. “I’m sure that…that…” she could feel her blush deepening and quickly closed the box, placing it down on the floor next to her chair, “…Brooke…I mean, that we’ll…I’ll enjoy it.”
As the room erupted with cackles of laughter at her slip of the tongue, the young woman brought her hands up to cover her face. The only thought running through Sam’s mind was that she’d die from embarrassment before the night was over.
Peter held up the index card that was in his hand. “Okay, Brooke, first question.” He leaned in toward his friend and whispered, “Now, try to get the right answer, okay?” He watched Brooke take in a deep breath and nod. “Alright, you’re out late…ah…” he looks to the men around him, “working, yeah…and you come home with lipstick on your collar. What do you tell Sam when she sees it?” Peter leaned in closer and cocked his head to hear her answer.
The woman mulled the question over in her mind for only a moment. “I’d tell her one of two things.” Brooke grinned as she started her explanation. “It’s mine…”
The master of ceremonies turned to his married brethren. Seeing no real decision on any of their faces, he turned back to Brooke. “Or?”
“Or…” Brooke smirked with a tiny little giggle. “I’d say, ‘What are you bitching about, Baby? That’s your shade.’ And she’d know it was the truth.” She sat up in the chair, proud of her smart aleck answer. “Sorry, guys, but the only way that any lipstick would end up on my collar would be if it were mine or hers.”
“As if you ever wore lipstick,” Brian quipped, and then looked to his fellow males.
“You’re exactly right, Brian. I don’t.” Her blue eyes shone brightly.
“URP!” Henry let out the loud sounding noise startling his daughter as a pointed a finger came in her direction. “Wrong answer!”
“What…what do you mean, wrong answer?” Brooke blinked, shocked by the judgment that was levied at her. She watched as a shot glass filled with liquor was handed up the ranks from one man to another until her father finally pressed it into her hand. “Oh God…”
“Drink up,” Henry said with a smile on his face.
“Yeah, Brooke,” Samuel stepped forward and slapped her on the back. “Take it like a man.” He winked, and then mimed the action of throwing a drink back.
Letting her eyes roam over the group, Brooke finally focused on the drink in her hand. With a quick, well-practiced motion, she downed the shot and swallowed, feeling the burning sensation go down her throat and into her belly. “Ahh… chilled Southern Comfort, my favorite.” She licked her lips and set the glass on the table off to her side.
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