Always A Bridesmaid. Kristin Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ the stables of all the Budweiser Clydesdales in a single day? Of course, then you’d mess up that nice suit.”

      “Come on, cut me some slack. I’m a working schlemiel. Why do you think I was late?”

      “What do you do?”

      His mouth curved. “Make trouble.”

      “Why am I not surprised?” Her voice was dry. “And where do you make trouble?”

      His grin widened. “Anywhere I can. No throwing things,” he added quickly, as she reached for the basket of bread.

      “That wasn’t my intention,” she said with dignity. “Although, now that you mention it…”

      “Okay, okay. Blazon Media,” he said, relenting.

      “What, like an advertising agency? You’re not one of those account exec types, are you?”

      “That’s a harsh way to talk about the people who help you decide how to spend your exorbitant salary.”

      “Exorbitant?” She couldn’t prevent the snort.

      “Or not,” he added. “What do you do?”

      “I’m a social worker.”

      “Okay, maybe not so exorbitant.” He raised a brow. “A social worker, huh? And here I thought you guys were all softies.”

      “Here I thought you advertising types all had hundred-dollar haircuts and a closet full of Armani,” she countered.

      “I’m dressed down for casual Friday,” he said.

      “I’d hate to see you when you really put on the Ritz.”

      “Just wait until tomorrow.” He winked. “Then you’ll see my really grubby clothes.”

      The bartender leaned against the wall in his white apron and watched as the last of the rehearsal party left their tables and headed down the carpeted stairs. They’d closed the place down, Jillian realized in surprise, as she reached the bottom and turned for the lobby. She’d blinked once or twice and the hours had slipped away.

      It was a shock, to say the least. Parties weren’t her thing. To be honest, she’d looked forward to the rehearsal dinner with about as much enthusiasm as she would have a root canal. Outside of Lisa and Alan, she’d known no one. Somehow, though, that hadn’t mattered. Forget about the usual rehearsal-dinner work of making conversation with people she didn’t know and had little in common with. She’d spent the entire evening laughing.

      And every time she’d turned to Gil, he’d been watching her with that little glimmer in his eyes.

      He was beside her now as they walked out into the night. She tightened her jacket against the cool breeze. “I guess it’s not quite summer yet.”

      “Give it another month and it will be,” he said. They turned down the sidewalk toward her car. “You going to be okay driving?”

      “Sure. I stopped with the champagne a while ago.” Stopped early enough that her feet should be firmly grounded. Why was it, then, that she still felt the little bubbles of effervescence, that she felt like skipping?

      “Good. Wouldn’t want you to oversleep and miss my grand entrance at the wedding. I’m planning to be two hours early.”

      “Spoken like a true responsible citizen,” she said.

      “Making you proud of me is my life.”

      “It must have been dull until we met tonight, then,” she said lightly, turning to him as they reached her car.

      “It was,” he agreed. “I much prefer this.” And suddenly he was looking at her with a look she couldn’t quite categorize: speculation, anticipation, some special concentration.

      Nerves vaulted through her. “Well, I guess you’d better get home and get dressed if you’re going to be two hours early for the wedding, shouldn’t you?”

      He nodded, never taking his eyes off her. “I suppose so.”

      “It was nice to meet you.” She concentrated on digging out her keys. If she did that, then she wouldn’t focus on that mouth and wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

      “It’s nice to see you.”

      “It’s late,” she said desperately.

      “Then I guess you’d better get going, Cinderella.” With a flourish, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Heat flashed through her. “See you at the altar.”

      Chapter Three

      The dressing room smelled of cologne and hair spray, of freesia and lily of the valley from the bridal bouquets. Silk and tulle rustled below the chatter and buzz of a half-dozen women getting primped simultaneously.

      “Lisa Sanders, have I told you how much I love and admire you?” Ariel turned to allow Jillian to zip up the back of her bridesmaid dress.

      Lisa glanced over from where she sat at the vanity in the bride’s dressing area. “Any particular reason now?”

      “These dresses. They’re gorgeous.”

      “I’ll say,” Jillian chimed in fervently. She’d been in more weddings than she could count on one hand and had the closet full of poufy floral dresses to prove it. Lisa had rejected those horrors in favor of slim, tea-length dresses the color of the periwinkles in their bouquets.

      Jillian glanced in the mirror at her own dress, admiring the way the bias-cut silk draped. “They really are lovely.”

      “And wait until your boy gets a load of you in that,” Ariel said.

      Jillian frowned. “My boy?”

      “Gil,” Ariel clarified. “I mean, the two of you were flirting like mad last night. Very hot.”

      It was crazy to get butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him, Jillian told herself. But every time she remembered the feel of his lips brushing over her knuckles, her stomach lurched as if she was in an elevator that was dropping too fast. She’d tried to tell herself it hadn’t been a big deal. Sure he’d paid attention to her, walked her to her car, kissed her hand, but who knew what that meant? It could just be one of those things people did at rehearsal dinners.

      But apparently she wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

      Maybe, Jillian thought, just maybe it hadn’t been her imagination. Maybe there really had been that little buzz there, that little something that felt like, oh…

      Chemistry.

      It happened, she knew. Couples met, clicked and wound up dating. It wasn’t just in movies and books; she heard about it from her patients, her girlfriends, even her siblings. People got involved, they had relationships.

      Why not her?

      “If СКАЧАТЬ