Wedding Party Collection: Once A Bridesmaid...: Here Comes the Bridesmaid / Falling for the Bridesmaid. GINA WILKINS

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      This was bad, bad, bad.

      Walking a little stiffly, he showed her the outdoor terrace. Talked about welcome cocktails. Described the way the decking had been stained to match the wooden floor inside. Back in. Suggested positions for the official table. Indicated places for dancing—except that Caleb had told him that dancing was likely to be off the agenda, so why he was pointing that out was a mystery. Just filling the space with words. Any words. Waiting for that erection to subside.

      And at the end, when she looked at him with those twinkling blue and green eyes of hers, he still had a hard-on and he could still—dammit!—imagine her naked. On his bed. Kneeling in front of him. Walking towards him. Away from him.

      Help!

      ‘Can you email me the layout so I can refresh my memory when I need to?’ Sunshine asked. ‘Oh—and tomorrow I’ll have the invitation design to sign off. Are you happy for me to do it, or would you like to see it?’

      ‘I’d like to see it,’ he said, and couldn’t believe he’d actually said that. Because He. Did. Not. Care.

      ‘I could email it.’

      ‘No. Not email.’

      Sunshine pursed her lips. Her ‘thinking’ look—not that he knew how he knew that.

      ‘I really do have to be in the store tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Some new stock is coming in and I have a very specific idea for the display. And you’re working tomorrow night, right?’

      ‘No—night off,’ he said, and was amazed again. He never took a night off.

      She brightened. ‘Great. Where shall we meet?’

      ‘I’ll cook.’ Okay. He had lost his mind. He was not going to cook for Sunshine Smart. He never cooked for girlfriends. And she wasn’t even that. Not even close to that. Even if he did want to have sex with her.

      Damn, damn, damn. Goddamn.

      Sunshine’s eyes had lit up like a Christmas tree. ‘Really?’

      Could he back out? Could he? ‘Um. Yes.’

      ‘At my place?’

      No—not at her place. Not anywhere. ‘Um. Yes.’ So he had a vocabulary problem today. Brain-dead. He was brain-dead.

      ‘Just one teensy problem. Most of my kitchen appliances have never been used.’

      ‘I love virgin appliances.’ Arrrgggghhh. Again with the sexual innuendo. He was clearly on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

      ‘In that case you will have an orgasm when you walk in my kitchen.’

      Orgasms. Oh. My. God.

      Sunshine checked her watch. ‘And, speaking of orgasms, I’d better go.’

      Huh? What the hell?

      ‘I’m being taken to that new Laotian restaurant the Peppercorn Tree tonight,’ she said, as though that explained anything. ‘I checked the menu online. Very excited!’

      Okay, he got it. Whew. It was the thought of food making her orgasmic.

      And then her words registered. ‘Being taken’. As in date.

      ‘Gary or Ben?’ He just couldn’t seem to stop himself from asking.

      ‘Neither of them. Tonight it’s Marco.’

      Marco. Marco? Three men on a string now? Not to mention the calligrapher. And the hairdresser. And there was probably a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick-maker in there somewhere.

      ‘You sure there was no free love on that commune?’ he asked, and thanked heaven and hell that he sounded his normal curt self.

      ‘Love’s never free, is it?’ Sunshine asked cryptically. And then she smiled. ‘That’s why I’m only interested in sex.’

      Before Leo could think of a response she tap-tapped her way out of the restaurant, clearly with no idea he was having a conniption and might need either medical or psychiatric intervention.

       FOUR

      TO: Sunshine Smart

      FROM: Leo Quartermaine

      SUBJECT: Photos

      Attached are the images we discussed yesterday, plus the restaurant layout with a sketchy floor plan.

      I’ve also included a photo of the toilet paper. White.

      I’ll be making pasta tonight, and bringing some homemade gelato.

      LQ

      TO: Jonathan Jones

      FROM: Sunshine Smart

      SUBJECT: All going swimmingly—and shoes!

      Darling!

      Checked out the venue yesterday—scrumptious. Caleb has photos.

      Your shoe design is attached. As requested, not too over the top! Black patent with a gorgeous charcoal toecap. The shoes will work brilliantly with the dark grey suit and red tie.

      I’m sending Caleb’s design to him directly—he says you don’t get to see his outfit before the big day! And you have the contact number for Bazz in Brooklyn to get the shoes made, so make an appointment, and quickly because he’s super-busy.

      Leo’s are next. And, speaking of Leo...drumroll...tonight he’s cooking me dinner!

      We’ll get onto the wedding menu tonight too. I’m thinking we should lean towards seafood, but with a chicken alternative for those who are allergic, and, of course, a vegetarian (dullsville) option.

      Sunny xxx

      PS: Was Marco Valetta always such a douche? Had dinner with him last night and he spent the whole meal talking about his inheritance—scared his father is going to gobble it up on overseas travel. Seriously, let the man spend his own money any way he wants! Marco thought he was going to get lucky, but after banging on all night about money and then suddenly switching to the subject of lap dances??????? As if!!!! He is SO off my Christmas card list. I’ll bet Leo Quartermaine would never be such a loser.

      PPS: I saw a statistic recently that said about twenty-five million dollars is spent on lap dances each year in Vegas alone. Amazing!!!!

      TO: Leo Quartermaine

      FROM: Caleb Quartermaine

      SUBJECT: Loving the Sunshine...

      ...and I don’t mean the New York weather, which is icky-sticky right now.

      Just warning you, СКАЧАТЬ