Downing it quickly, Freya coughed, then searched the crowd. “We’ve lost my parents. I wonder if anyone will notice if we sneak away now? I was going to make some excuse to my folks, but I’ll text them.”
“I have a raging headache, if that helps.”
She turned to him and looked straight past him, a gigantic phony smile taking over her face. “Aunt Bette. It’s so wonderful to see you.”
Eager arms clutched at Freya, nearly ripping her hand from his. Freya held strong so he didn’t lose his lifeline and get washed downstream. He’d faced some terrifying enemies; hell week wasn’t close to as overwhelming as this wedding.
“Oh my, Freya dear. How you’ve grown up,” Aunt Bette pulled away and looked her up and down; quite an eye for detail, she genuinely perused. Clearly didn’t realize the gesture was intended to be a compliment, not an inspection.
Freya continued her phony smile, really bringing out that dimple.
“Gosh, I think last time I saw you was at your wedding. Well, I guess I didn’t actually see you at your wedding, but, well. You know,” Bette’s mouth soured and eyebrows dropped as if it were some sort of shameful secret.
“Uh-huh,” Freya nodded.
Zane pulled her hand and started walking to the far and of the lawn, “I’m so sorry, but I think I see Eamon calling us over.”
“Nice to see you Aunt Bette,” Freya continued her smile until she could turn her back. She muttered to Zane, “I think I have a headache now too.”
As they passed another caterer serving those awful drinks, they each grabbed one and downed it. It seemed to be mostly juice, so there was hope it would help with the headache.
“My dad wasn’t really looking for us, right? Because he’s the opposite direction.”
He smiled sheepishly, “Must have been one of his brothers or something; I could swear it was him.”
The music shifted to a mopey, almost elevator rhythm. That damn ear-splitting voice announced it was time for dinner.
Freya shook her head, “We can order room service.”
The scent of prime rib wafted toward them, his stomach growling for something greasy to combat the awful cocktail that was tearing up his gut and making his head swim. “Let’s grab some of that, then we can go back upstairs.”
As they headed for the food line, another aunt found them. “Hi, Aunt Del,” Freya’s phony grin began anew.
“Freya, I can’t believe it’s you. I haven’t seen you since–”
Zane cleared his throat, “Wow, another aunt. Freya, how many aunts do you have? What a wonderful family.” He sucked at this sort of thing, but would figure something out to keep Freya from getting a cheek spasm with her overly cheerful smiles.
Del shifted her gaze toward him, her hair, as black and curly as Freya’s, whooshing from the movement. “Hello. You must be Freya’s…?”
Nice one. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Freya gulped the last of her drink and blurted out, “Friend.”
“How nice,” Del’s smile oozed with saccharine charm. Raising her eyebrows up and down lecherously, she leaned closer to Freya. “He’s very handsome. Tall and strapping young man you’ve got. Bette says she heard rumor he’s a Navy SEAL,” she whispered to Freya, as if he wouldn’t be able to hear if she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. Her eyebrows waggled up and down, “You know they write romance novels about those guys. How close are they to the truth?” Her eyes tactlessly drifted down and wandered over his package.
Holy shit, how much had she had to drink? She giggled, a hiccup following close behind.
Freya nodded, whispering back out of the corner of her mouth, joining her aunt at mentally undressing him. “They’re close, but, really, they underestimate the stamina and dick-size.”
Del’s eyes widened and she looked constipated as she struggled to come up with a retort.
Zane’s breath rushed from his chest as he grasped what Freya had just said; he gulped as he struggled to adapt a poker face. Taking advantage of the pause, Freya smiled to Del, “Let’s try to catch up later.” She dragged Zane along as he gulped down the last of his odd beverage.
“What was that?” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. For my bridal shower, crazy Aunt Del bought me one of those slutty teddy get-ups, all red and lacy, with a book of sex tips.”
“What?” his eyes crossed at the odd relationship. His family was crazy, but theynevertalked about things like sex.
“Seriously. She thought it was hilarious, as did half my other aunts, and they spent the rest of the evening acting like I was a virgin bride and telling me all about penises and orgasms and masturbation. I’ve spent the last decade trying to flush the vivid imagery from my brain.”
