For the last five minutes, I’d sat on this park bench listening to the birds, watching for my best friend, Aubrey Rice, to arrive with my Sunday afternoon delight, and searching for a politically correct way to tell her that her fiancé, Troy Fletcher, was cheating on her.

At last, across the park, I saw her. When I’d first met her, she was a skinny little kid of six. At twenty-five, she had definitely filled out and was now all womanly curves. If you asked her, she’d say she was fat. But to me, she was perfect, with a Jane Russell figure, the face of a goddess and a sweet and trusting nature.

“Hey, Luke!” She slid onto the seat beside me and handed me a triple scoop strawberry cone.

I opened my mouth to take a bite of ice cream but instead the words just spewed out. “Aubrey, I think Troy is a turd.”

Despite all my mental gymnastics, that was the best I could do? Shit.

She turned to me with a puzzled expression on her face. I tried staring into her vivid green eyes but instead found my gaze dropping to the ice cream she held in her hand. I watched as a small drip of vanilla ran down the chocolate-dipped waffle and onto her thumb. It took every bit of my willpower to resist the urge to pick up her hand and lick that drop. But I knew if I did, it wouldn’t be enough. My cock leapt to life at the mental image of Aubrey lying naked in the grass with a scoop of ice cream covering each breast. How I’d love to melt the pink polar ice caps with my mouth. Then, when I’d uncovered her dusky peaks, I would suckle them until she begged for me to taste every inch of her. I shifted a little and sighed.

“I thought you liked Troy.” Aubrey’s voice sounded puzzled.

I snuck a peek at her face and could see I’d hurt her. As her best friend, my approval of her marriage meant a lot. I just needed to tell her what I’d seen, but my tongue got tangled around the words I wanted to say. Instead of spitting out the truth, I limped around it. “I just hope he makes you happy, Aubrey.” It was a lame statement.

Her eyes lit up as she smiled. “Oh, Luke, he does make me happy. He really does.”

Aubrey leaned against me, her shoulder pressed up against mine. I longed to put my arm around her and press my lips to hers. While we kissed, I’d slip my hand up under the baby blue cashmere sweater she was wearing. Her skin would be warm and her nipples would bud in my palm at my touch. Somewhere along the road to getting her totally naked and taking her right here on this park bench, I’d make her forget all about Troy.

“You don’t have to doubt it at all,” she added.

But I did. In fact, I’d had doubts all along that Troy was as perfect as Aubrey said he was. But I’d never had any proof until the previous night.

I was cleaning tables during last call when I saw Troy’s bright red Lexus coupe pull up in front of The Sand Dollar. I held my breath, waiting for a glimpse of Aubrey’s wind-tousled blonde hair. Instead, a tall brunette ‘working girl’ approached the passenger window and flirted with the man in the driver’s seat. After a couple of flicks of her hand and a laugh, she opened the door and climbed in. For a second I hoped I’d been mistaken about the identity of the driver, then I saw the license plate. TTYL XO. It was definitely Troy’s car. Then I was glad, really glad, it was Troy. I finally had concrete proof that he wasn’t the person Aubrey thought he was.

Since the direct approach of telling Aubrey failed, I tried a different tack. Perhaps discussing their sex life, or lack thereof, would get Aubrey to thinking about why Troy hadn’t been in any hurry to bed her before they wed.

“I’m glad he’s treating you right. So, how are, you-know, things?”

Aubrey just smiled and shook her index finger at me. “Not every male is fixated on sex like you are. We’ve decided to wait until our wedding night and we’re sticking to that.”

A large part of me was relieved. I was the first one to ever kiss Aubrey on the lips, feel out her breasts and slide my hand between her thighs. It just seemed natural to want to be the first one to pop her cherry. My penis pressed painfully against the zipper of my jeans as I remembered making out with her that hot July evening after the fireworks. She was so wet and ready for my fingers to fuck her. But instead, I’d gotten down on my knees between her legs and got my first taste of her pussy. It was sweet, salty ecstasy. She’d writhed under the explorations of my tongue and told me fireworks burst behind her closed eyelids when she came. I had been ready to sink into her and experience the light show for myself. That was the first time she’d told me no. And it certainly wasn’t the last. Aubrey wanted to be a virgin when she got married.

Damn. I didn’t want her to marry anyone else. I wanted to marry her. I’d been in love with her from the first day we met. But I wasn’t ready to settle down. And the reason wasn’t because I wanted to sow wild oats or party ‘til all hours, but I did want to earn a living. Right now, although I worked my butt off, I could barely afford to support myself.

Now, I knew women these days didn’t look for men to support them. Most of them were more than willing to pay their way and then some. But I couldn’t see Aubrey living with me in my one room apartment located over my brother’s bar or sleeping on the old sofa-bed I picked up at the Salvation Army store.

Lack of money was the downfall of being an unknown actor. In reality, being an actor meant between bartending at The Sand Dollar, I’d gone to lots of auditions and been in one toothpaste commercial.

“So, have you set a date?” I finally asked. I hated to, but it seemed like the polite thing. I immediately wished I hadn’t asked.

Aubrey squealed a little and wiggled a lot, nearly jumping up and down on the park bench as she showed me a huge diamond ring on her left hand. “February fourteenth. I’m going to be a Valentine bride.”

I pulled out my PDA and began to input the information, not like I’d forget. Being single, I dreaded Valentine’s Day. Now I had a new reason to hate it. I recorded it on the calendar as the day my heart would be permanently broken.

“Looks like Valentine’s Day falls on a Saturday next year. That’ll be lucky, but you should probably start booking the arrangements this year. Unless you’re planning on running off to Vegas?”

There was an odd silence and I looked up at Aubrey. She was gazing at me with the strangest expression on her face.

“Next year? Not next year, silly. This year. You know, Thursday.”

Suddenly there wasn’t enough air in the great outdoors. There was a loud buzzing in my ears as my mind tried to comprehend what I’d just heard. I looked back down at my PDA. Troy and Aubrey had only started dating two months ago and he’d proposed on the first date. Why the hurry?

Thinking about it, I realised I knew what the hurry was. Aubrey felt as if she had to keep up with her sisters. There were five O’Fallon girls, and Aubrey was the middle child. The two older siblings had been married over the summer and just this past Christmas, the twins had been married in a flamboyant candlelight service.

I glanced back down at my PDA, forcing myself to appear busy so Aubrey didn’t realise how much her news had shaken me. I counted the days. There was no mistake. Today was Sunday and Valentine’s Day was Thursday.

I had four days to stop a wedding.