One Bride Too Many: One Bride Too Many / One Groom To Go. Jennifer Drew

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      “You graduated a year before I did, so I guess you more or less did. Anyway, would you please open the trunk? I feel like an idiot trapped by my own car.”

      “Oh, sure.” He unlocked it and lifted out the wide ribbon of cloth.

      “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

      He caught himself staring and had to remind himself that this was Tess Morgan, clueless Tess. In high school she’d been so naive and wholesome, the guys had called her Soapy.

      “Let me tie it for you.” He surprised himself by offering.

      “Oh, would you? I don’t know why they had to be long enough to go around a hippo.”

      He felt clumsy trying to make a bow out of the slippery streamers, especially since the one that had been caught in the trunk had a black smear.

      “Can you do it?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

      “Sure, no problem.”

      He fumbled with the thing, managing to turn the grease spot so it didn’t show. No need to make her self-conscious by mentioning it. The big bow did her slender waist a grave disservice, in his opinion.

      “Is Lucinda a good friend of yours?” he asked. He now knew the bride’s name, but he had serious doubts about her character. What kind of woman made a friend show up in public looking like Little Bo Peep?

      “We go way back.” She didn’t elaborate. “I’ve done this bit so many times, people are starting to think I’m a professional bridesmaid.”

      “Can I carry that for you?” He nodded at the gift-wrapped box. Chivalry aside, the bulky package looked as if it could be a good ticket into the reception. Who would question a guy who came in with a bridesmaid and a really big present?

      “Would you mind? It’s not heavy, but it’s bulky. Lucinda is into wicker, so I got her a chair at the import store. Unfortunately they don’t deliver.”

      Not so unfortunate for him. “I’d be glad to.”

      He hefted the box and walked beside her toward the clubhouse. How could one person change so much and so little at the same time? She had the same tentative smile, but he didn’t remember her lips being so lush, no thanks to the metallic pink lipstick that was probably supposed to match the dress. Her eyes were bluer than he recalled, but maybe ten years ago she hadn’t looked at him so directly. She had apple cheeks, part of the reason he and Zack had enjoyed making her blush, but there was nothing plump about any part of her now, including her face. She had golden-tan skin, a cute nose and arched brows, altogether a pretty package.

      “I didn’t see you at the church,” she commented.

      “I’m not big on weddings. It’s a bachelor phobia.”

      “Oh, you’re still single?”

      “You sound surprised.”

      “A little. Girls liked you a lot in high school—more than Zack even, but I shouldn’t tell you that.”

      “It’s my brother you shouldn’t tell. He thought he was quite a ladies’ man back then.”

      Since winning the coin toss, Zack was the happy twin, free to continue playing the field. He was also the one who could get a date with a complete stranger anytime just by saying, “How about it?”

      Cole wasn’t at all eager to begin wife-hunting, but he hoped to get a date or two at this reception. Zack would have too much fun trying to give him advice on how to get a woman if he struck out.

      “Is Zack married?”

      “No, we’re both lonely bachelors. What about you? Are you married?”

      “No—and don’t pretend you’re surprised.”

      He protested weakly, but he wasn’t at all surprised. As far as he knew, she hadn’t had a boyfriend in high school and probably still put men off with her wholesomeness. It had had nothing to do with looks. She’d always been too reserved, too self-contained—maybe too shy.

      “Meeting the right person isn’t easy,” he said glumly, thinking of his grandfather’s unrealistic expectations. Maybe in Marsh’s day virgins panting for husbands were plentiful, but the old man needed a wake-up call. This was the twenty-first century! It was a lot easier to find a playmate than a longtime partner.

      They climbed the steps at the main entrance of the imposing pseudo-Elizabethan clubhouse, its stucco walls gleaming white and the timbers freshly stained a deep mahogany brown. He’d lucked out in connecting with Tess and her big box. Private security was hovering like dark-suited ghosts, and when he saw the gift room off the foyer, it was pretty clear why. Besides wicker, the bride was obviously into silver and other pricey stuff. He didn’t need Tess’s prompting to carry her gift in with the others and put it in a corner.

      TESS WAITED while Cole discreetly made her gift disappear in the treasure trove of Lucinda’s loot. He’d been a hunk in high school—she’d sighed over his picture in the yearbook for an embarrassingly long time—but he’d matured and lost his boyish cuteness. Now he was drop-dead gorgeous. His face was sun-bronzed, and a light crease line in his forehead made his dark brows and eyes even sexier.

      A few minutes ago she’d been furious with Danny-the-creep Wilson for breaking his promise to go to the wedding with her. Now she was glad he was off sailing with his boss and some clients. She was tired of men like him, male friends who cadged meals, borrowed money and called her “good buddy.” It would be a small, if short-lived, triumph to walk into the grand ballroom with Cole. He was just another pal from her past, but no one here knew that.

      Why did she have so many male friends and no real boyfriend? Guys called her when they wanted to whine about work or the women who did them wrong. They never seemed to notice she was ripe and ready, not even after she slimmed down to a size eight and learned to lose at everything from tennis and video games to battles of wit.

      Cole smiled broadly when he returned from disposing of her present.

      “Thanks for carrying it,” she said, smiling. “From now on, I give nothing but towels.”

      “Towels are nice,” he said in a tone that labeled them boring, “but I’m glad we got together. Big receptions are a drag when you don’t know anyone.”

      “Except the happy couple, of course, but they only have eyes for each other.”

      He offered his arm. She took it, more than a little impressed by the way his bicep strained against the sleek, dark sleeve of his suitcoat.

      They walked into a ballroom that reeked of old money—a blend of greenhouse flowers, high-priced liquor and expensive perfumes.

      He dropped his arm, and she felt let down. Of course, she couldn’t expect him to hang with her all evening just because they’d once taken the same class.

      “Fancy affair.” He sounded vaguely disapproving.

      “Yeah, I guess.”

      She knew he was much more likely to feel comfortable at a society wedding СКАЧАТЬ