The Best Man's Bride. Lisa Childs

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      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Bestselling, award-winning author Lisa Childs writes paranormal and contemporary romance for Harlequin/Silhouette Books. She lives on thirty acres in west Michigan with her husband, two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks she’s a rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers, who can contact her through her Web site, www.lisachilds.com, or snail mail address, P.O. Box 139, Marne, MI 49435.

      For my wonderful, supportive, talented friends:

       Mary Gardner and Kimberly Duffy,

       finalists in the Romance Writers of America 2007

       Golden Heart writing contest—

       ladies, you’re both winners with me!

      Contents

      Acknowledgments

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Epilogue

      Acknowledgments:

      With great appreciation to Kathleen Scheibling

       and my agent, Jenny Bent, for offering their

       guidance and sharing their knowledge.

      Chapter One

      “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Nick Jameson asked his best friend.

      “I was going to ask you that,” Josh Towers said as he peered into the mirror on the wall of the groom’s dressing room, straightening a bow tie that was already perfectly straight. But then, nearly everything about Josh was perfect—apart from his taste in women.

      Nick sighed. “What do I need to know? I’m not getting married.” Not ever.

      “You missed the rehearsal, you know.”

      “Hey, I was on call last night.” Nick shrugged, testing the seams on his tuxedo jacket. Tuxedos were called monkey suits for a reason, he thought. They were damned near as comfortable as straitjackets.

      Not that he’d ever been in a straitjacket, but if for some reason he considered doing what Josh was—getting married—he’d put himself in one.

      “And what’s so hard about what I have to do?” Nick asked his friend. He had stood up with Josh at his other wedding—the first one. He was such a hypocrite. How could he stand up for something in which he put no faith? “I just walk down the aisle with some girl on my arm.”

      “You’re the best man,” Josh reminded him. “You’re in charge of the rings, too.” He dug a pair of gold bands out of his pocket and handed them over.

      The metal, although warm from Josh’s pocket, chilled Nick’s skin as the rings lay in his palm. The anxiety built in his throat, nearly choking him. He didn’t even like to touch the things.

      “Daddy,” one of Josh’s twin four-year-old sons said, “we’re the ring bears.”

      “Funny, you don’t look like bears,” Nick teased, chucking the boy under the chin. Must have been Buzz since his black hair had been kept buzzed short for the past two years after he’d gotten hold of Josh’s electric razor. TJ’s hair was a little longer and moussed into half-inch spikes. Both twins had deep blue eyes, and now they stared up at him as if he were trying to make off with one of their Tonka trucks.

      “Yeah,” said TJ as he tugged on Nick’s pant leg. The twins’ tuxedos matched his, black with white pleated shirts, black bow ties and red cummerbunds. “We’re supposed to carry the rings.”

      Nick would gladly have handed over the gold bands, but he doubted Josh would trust them to the devilish duo. The boys had a well-known penchant for “flushing” things, including their dad’s pager and cell phone.