The Cherished Wife (Noelle and Charles)

Sean's eyes darted around, but honestly, he could not stomach the thought of kissing any of them. Steven was out of the question, and as for Peter, Sean was sure that if he even tried, Peter would lay him out flat. That left his cousin Bob, and then Yoel and Gerald. Sean propped his face in his hand, torn between a laugh and a sob. "Can I just opt for death instead?"

"No can do," came the reply. "You're the one who wanted to play this game. You can't bail now! How are you going to show your face around Brookville after this?"

Sean could not even fake a smile. "Come on, Noelle, I get it, I messed up. Can't we just call it even? Please pick someone else, I just can't do it!" Kissing any of them felt like the ultimate no-no.

He peeked at Bob, but Bob's glare was scary, so Sean quickly nixed that idea. Then there was Yoel, but that was just as unbearable. Peter and Steven were definite no-gos.

"What if I just stand up and belt out a tune for you, huh?"

"No way!" Noelle said with mock sternness, but she was secretly cracking up inside. She was barely keeping a straight face. Gripping Charles's hand, she squeezed the back of it tightly. Seeing Sean's almost tearful expression, she finally burst into laughter. "Okay, Mr. Smith, if you're not up for a kiss, how about this? Take a bottle from the table and down it. Deal?"

"Noelle, you're something else... talk about loyalty, you're even more of a stickler than Charles. I'm impressed," Sean said, grabbing a bottle with a look of noble sacrifice, like he was about to heroically charge into battle.

Noelle glanced at Sean's dramatics and gave Charles's sleeve a little tug. "We're good now, right?"

Charles squinted and patted her hand. "Relax, he's got a tank for a liver. It's not gonna knock him out!"

The game went on for a few more rounds, and Sean got the short end of the stick every time, with Jennifer and Noelle not far behind. The others, though, seemed to dodge the bullet like they had it all figured out. The bottle just would not target them. Poor Sean. It was like he was jinxed. Whenever Noelle gave the bottle a spin, it somehow found its way back to him.

By night's end, everyone but Noelle, Jennifer, and Sean was still standing strong.

As the night settled down and everyone headed home, Noelle was pretty sober since most of the alcohol had ended up with Charles. Luckily he could handle his drink

and was not sprawled out anywhere.

Charles scooped Noelle up in his arms and headed out, with Ronald trailing behind them, clutching Charles's keys to drive them back home.

On the other hand, Sean was not having the best of nights. Despite being pretty good with his drinks, tonight's flood of alcohol was just too much for him.

Then there was Steven, the guy who freaks out over a single speck of dust.

In the end, Bob had to haul Sean back. Sean puked twice on the ride, sitting in the back of Bob's car, squinting through the mess as Sean's world spun out of control.

With his long, nimble fingers, Bob

hoisted Sean up, nearly chucking him out in frustration. Somehow, they wrangled Sean into his fancy villa and up the stairs. Sean's usually perfect eyebrows knitted together as he looked into Steven's steady, untroubled gaze. "Mr. Fischer, are you back in town for something to do with the Naylor family?"