Do-Or-Die Bridesmaid. Julie Miller

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       Chapter Two

      Laura Karr might be the one person here who’d treat Conor like the guy next door he’d always been—not like the prodigal son returning home, or some poor lost soul who needed to be saved. The groomsman smacked Laura’s hand off his sleeve, and Conor hurried his steps to reach her.

      Smacked her?

      Uh-uh. That wasn’t gonna happen.

      Conor came up behind Laura in time to hear a parting shot from the curly-haired man. “Don’t mess with things you don’t understand.”

      Over the top of that glitzy pink fascinator, Conor locked his gaze on to the dark eyes behind the man’s glasses. “Hey, Squirt.” He settled his hand at the nip of Laura’s waist, alerting her to his presence so he wouldn’t startle her, but also warning the other man that she had a friend who’d intervene if the argument turned any uglier. “Is there a problem?”

      Laura’s frown transformed into a bright smile when she faced him. “Conor. I was hoping we’d get a chance to connect before you ran off.”

      Great. Not her, too. “I came to the wedding, didn’t I? Even brought a gift. I’m not running anywhere.” He kept a friendly grin on his face, ignoring the fact that moments earlier he’d been sizing up the room for his best chance to do just that. Run.

      “Sure, you weren’t.” A heavenward roll of her green-gold eyes told him she wasn’t fooled by either the words or the grin as her arms went around his waist in a welcoming hug. But he barely had a chance to complete the hug before she pulled away to stop the other man’s retreat. “Isaac, wait.” She tugged on Conor’s hand and pulled him forward to make introductions. “I want you to meet a friend of mine. Detective Conor Wildman, this is Isaac Royal. He was Joe’s groomsman today. They work together at the accounting firm.”

      The man who’d walked Laura back down the aisle at the end of the service blinked rapidly behind his glasses. “Detective? You’re a cop?”

      Conor arched an eyebrow at the dumb question. “Generally, that’s what the word means.”

      “Conor’s with the Kansas City police,” Laura explained. “He moved to Missouri a couple of years ago.”

      Since this seemed important to Laura, Conor extended his hand when the other man didn’t. “Isaac. Nice to meet you.”

      Isaac Royal was clearly agitated about something. Did he have a reason not to like cops? Maybe he was just anxious to get away from whatever Laura had been pestering him about. His palm was sweaty when he finally reached out to shake Conor’s hand. “You, too.” He pulled away, adjusting his glasses on his nose. The corner of his mouth hitched up with a smile. “Heard what happened to you with Lisa. Women can be a bitch, right?”

      Not the opening to a polite conversation Conor had been expecting. He bristled to his full height. “And some guys can be jerks,” Conor pointed out. “Whatever you two were arguing about, you’d better not be referring to Laura. And if you touch her in anger like that again, I will—”

      “He won’t.” Laura stepped forward, not needing his defense because, apparently, Isaac’s snide remark hadn’t been about her, after all. “Give Chloe a chance to explain herself. Call her. She’s been absent all afternoon and evening. Aren’t you the least bit worried?”

      “Let it go, Laura,” Isaac warned. “This is between her and me. Chloe made her choice.”

      “But Lisa was counting on her. What if she’s counting on you? To save her?”

      Isaac’s laugh held zero humor. “I’m done being her boyfriend when it’s convenient for her. I’m not picking up her pieces. That woman is not going to hurt me anymore.” Isaac excused himself, taking a shortcut across the dance floor and exiting into the hallway where the restrooms were located.

      Feathers and bangles bounced as Laura fumed beside him, visually drilling holes through the archway where Isaac had disappeared.

      Still clueless as to the source of the tension, but not liking how it affected his childhood friend, Conor sought some answers. “Everything okay? Do I need to have a man-to-man conversation with Mr. Royal?”

      The set of her mouth was still tight even as she joked about his concern. “Just like you had a conversation with Scott Swearingen when I was in the eleventh grade?”

      “A guy doesn’t tell a girl he can do better when she asks him to the prom.” Since no one had asked her, Laura had bravely taken the initiative and asked a boy to go with her. There were less cruel ways to say no than to belittle her for her not being the most popular girl in school. “I heard you crying up in the tree house that day. He was an immature jerk who hurt your feelings. What was I supposed to do?”

      Laura nudged him out of the way of a row of line dancers sliding past them. “Maybe not go all big brother on his ass and embarrass me? You ambushed him in the parking lot after track practice, basically told him he was an idiot for not seeing the treasure behind my lack of boobs, straight As and wicked sense of humor.”

      Conor had prided himself on not throwing a punch that day. “I called him worse than an idiot. And I never once mentioned your boobs.”

      Although, mentioning them now, he found himself looking down at the shadowy cleft beneath the lace overlay on her gown—and just as quickly looking away the moment that most male part of him awoke with the knowledge that there was nothing teenagerish, tomboyish or lacking about Laura’s curvy shape now.

      “Why do you think I was embarrassed? Do you think any other boy would say yes to me, knowing you were lurking next door, waiting to pounce on them, too, if they so much as looked crossways at me?” She raised her voice as the music crescendoed to its climax. “You should have at least offered to take me to the dance yourself. Now that would have been real chivalry.”

      Conor dipped his head closer to hers to continue the conversation without shouting. Ignoring the subtly exotic scent that wafted off her hair and filled his nose, he reminded her СКАЧАТЬ