Page 10 of 3 Daddies to Go

When I approach the table, the three guys stand. Oh God, as if being hot wasn’t enough, they have to be gentlemen too.

I flush as the best man pulls out my chair.

“Thank you,” I mutter as I take my seat.

“I’m Trace,” the best man growls. “And this is Tag and Tanner. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to introduce ourselves at the photo shoot, but that photographer was something, wasn’t she? She must have taken a million shots and we couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

I flush.

“Yeah, she did a really great job though,” I say. “I’m Kendall.” I don’t have a chance to add anything else before Monica butts into the conversation.

“You know,” Monica says, a glass of wine in her hand, “I love to cook.”

Um, what? No one says anything in response. We merely stare at one another in puzzlement.

“Seriously, cooking is the most fun thing in the entire world. I just love finding new recipes online! I can cook on the stove. I can bake. I can make anything,” she babbles, her cheeks flushed.

One of the guys, Tanner I think, nods.

“That’s great.” His tone is noncommittal, and he immediately looks away.

“I think the best thing I ever cooked was a chicken dish,” Monica rambles on brightly. “It had tomatoes, onions, and kale in it. I swear, you’ve never had anything so delicious in your life.” She leans towards Tag, who looks coolly handsome, staring off into the distance. “I could make it for you sometime.”

I snort, covering it up quickly with a cough. The best man gives me a sly smile that makes my stomach flutter.

Monica moves on to the next guy, Trace.

“You know, I can cook things other than chicken too. Do you like hamburgers? I make a great hamburger. Hamburgers from Georgia are the best because they’re full of thick, juicy meat.”

Again, she gets no response. Looking at Monica’s thin frame, it’s clear she doesn’t actually eat any of the food she’s describing. I doubt she cooks anything more than boiled bland chicken to put on top of her salad.

“Um, that’s great,” I murmur, trying to be polite. “Sounds yummy.”

If I had to guess, I’d say Monica read online somewhere that guys like a girl who can cook. She probably googled some recipes in the limo to talk about to make herself seem well-versed in the kitchen. But the problem is that I don’t think anyone here is falling for it. Not even Barney the campaign manager. He’s set his sights on a girl sitting at a table across from us, a nice-looking brunette, and from the eyes she’s giving him, he’s getting lucky tonight.

Well, at leastsomeoneat this party is because in this ugly purple dress, it certainly won’t be me.

“What’s your favorite food?” Monica chirps again, focusing on Tanner. He doesn’t answer, but at least it doesn’t matter because the DJ taps the microphone for our attention.

“Please put your hands together for husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Herbie and Trudy Jackson!”

The doors open and Trudy looks genuinely beautiful and happy, smiling as everyone cheers for them. She leads Herbie in, and they take their places at a nearby table, on a small dais. I’m glad to see them because they’re glowing, but also because their entrance is the cue for the servers to start handing out salads. It’s not my steak, but it’ll tide me over until the full meals are served.

I take a bite, wishing it was something more substantial.Soon, I remind my stomach, trying to prevent the growling. I grab a roll from the center of the table to help, and take a hefty bite. It appeases my stomach for now, and I sigh. I really should’ve brought a granola bar or something. If I’m ever in a wedding again, I’ll remember to hide a few for anyone who needs one.

Suddenly, a deep voice interrupts.

“Are you waiting for the meat dish, Kendall? Because if you are, I have just the kind of meat you might enjoy. In fact, all three of us have meat, don’t we?”

I jerk my head up and meet Tanner’s knowing eyes, as Tag and Trace look on. Oh my god, is he saying what I think he’s saying? Is he offering me his meat, as in that thick pole of man meat? It can’t be, but suddenly, I have a feeling it’s true.

5

Kendall

As I stare at the three gorgeous men, their eyes tease me. God, all of them have blue eyes, but they’re different colors: Tanner has sky blue that teases; Tag is navy blue like a churning ocean; and Trace has pure, bright sapphire that drives me crazy.

I struggle to find my voice, but before I can say anything, a server comes over and deftly slides a plate of steak in front of me. The meat crackles and glistens, and I swear my stomach rumbles audibly just seeing it.