The Last Single Maverick. Christine Rimmer

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СКАЧАТЬ ran her finger around the rim of her margarita glass. “Who’s telling this story, Jace?”

      He gave her a nod. “You are, Joss. Absolutely. Carry on.”

      “It was going to be the perfect wedding.”

      He nodded once more, to show her he was listening, but he did not interrupt again.

      She went on. “And after the wedding and the lovely reception, there was the great getaway honeymoon right here at the Thunder Canyon Resort. Followed by a move to San Francisco. Kenny’s a very successful advertising executive. He just hit the big time and got transferred to the Bay Area.” Joss paused. She turned her glass by the stem.

      He wanted to prompt her to tell him what went wrong, but he didn’t. He waited patiently for her to go on, as he’d promised he would.

      Finally, she continued. “I got all the way to the church last Saturday. Camellia City Methodist in Sacramento. It’s a beautiful church. And I was born and raised in Sacramento and have lived there all my life. I like my hometown. In fact, I didn’t really want to move to San Francisco, but I was willing to support my future husband in his powerhouse career. And I would have gone through with the wedding in spite of my doubts.”

      He’d promised to let her tell it her way, but still. He had to know. “What doubts?”

      She shook her head. “Kenny used to be such a sweet guy. But the more successful he got, the more he changed. He became someone I didn’t even know—and then I caught him with my cousin Kimberly in the coat room.”

      “Hold on, you lost me. What coat room?”

      She shook her head again, as though she still couldn’t quite believe it. “The coat room at Camellia City Methodist.”

      Jace let his mouth fall open. “Kenny canoodled with Kimberly in the coat room on the day of your wedding?”

      “Oh, yeah. And it was beyond canoodling. Kimberly was halfway out of her hot-pink satin bridesmaid’s dress and someone had unzipped Kenny’s fly. Both of them were red-faced and breathless. Kind of ruined the whole experience for me, you know?”

      He made a low noise in his throat. “I guess so.”

      Joss picked up the cell phone, studied it for a moment and then set it back down. “So I threw his engagement ring in his face and got the heck out of there—and I’m here at the resort anyway. Having my honeymoon minus the groom.”

      He tipped his head at the phone. “But Kenny keeps calling.”

      “Oh yes, he does.”

      “What a douche bag.”

      She sipped her margarita. “My sentiments exactly.”

      “I hate guys like that. He blew it already. He should show a little dignity and leave you alone. But instead it’s, ‘Joss, please. I love you. I just want to work this out. Come back to me. I’m sorry, okay? And that silly thing with Kimberly? It meant nothing and it will never happen again.’”

      Joss laughed. She had a beautiful, husky, warm sort of laugh. “How did you do that? You even captured the slightly wounded, whiney tone of his voice. Like I’m the one with the problem.”

      Jace stared at her wide, soft mouth in unabashed admiration. “I like your laugh.”

      She gave him her sternest frown. “Didn’t I tell you not to go there?”

      He was about to argue that he wasn’t “going” anywhere, that he only liked the way she laughed. But before he could get the words out, Theresa Duvall sauntered up behind him and took the stool on his other side.

      “Jace.” Theresa’s hand closed over his arm. He looked down at her fingernails, which were long and done up for the holiday with glittery red stripes and tiny, sparkly little stars. She leaned close and purred, “I’m a determined woman and there is no way you’re escaping me.”

      Okay. He knew he only had himself to blame if Theresa considered him the perfect candidate for another no-strings night of meaningless sex. But he really liked Joss. And he’d never have a chance with her now, not with Theresa pulling on his arm, eyeing him like a starving person eyes a steak dinner.

      And it wasn’t even that he wanted a chance with Joss. Not that kind of chance anyway. He just liked her a lot, liked talking with her, liked hearing her laugh. He didn’t want her to leave.

      Shocked the socks off him when she didn’t leave. Somehow, she picked up on the desperate look he sent her. And not only did she stay right where she was, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him away from Theresa, drawing him close to her side.

      Wow. It felt good—really good—to have her holding on to him, to feel her softness and the warmth of her. She smelled like soap and starch and sunshine and roses. And maybe a little tequila.

      “Sorry,” she said to Theresa, her tone regretful. “This one’s taken.”

      Theresa blinked. And then she let go of his arm and scowled. “Jace, what is your problem? You should have told me you were with someone. I want a good time as much as the next girl, but I would never steal another woman’s man.”

      He was totally lost, awash in the superfine sensation of having Joss’s arm around him. But then she nudged him in the side and he realized he was supposed to speak. “Uh, yeah. You’re right, Theresa. I’m an ass. I should have said something.”

      Joss clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “We had a fight. He’s been sulking.”

      Theresa groaned. “Oh, I know how that goes. Men. I don’t let myself get serious with them anymore. They’re just not worth it.”

      Joss pulled him even closer. And then she kissed his ear. It was barely a breath of a kiss. But still, with her arm around him and her lips close to his ear, he could almost forget that he had no interest in women anymore. He was enjoying every minute of this and he wished she would never let go. “I hear you,” she told Theresa, her breath all warm and tempting in his ear. “But when it’s true love, well, what can you do?”

      Theresa just shook her head. The bartender approached. Theresa shook her head at him, too. And then, without another word, she got up and left.

      Instantly, Joss released him and retreated to her own stool. Jace felt kind of bereft. But then he reminded himself that he should be grateful. She’d done him a favor and gotten Theresa off his back. “Thanks. I owe you one.” He raised his glass.

      She tapped hers against it. “Okay, I’ll bite. Who was that?”

      “Her name is Theresa Duvall. Last year, she was working at the Hitching Post—it’s this great old-time bar and grill down in town, on the corner of Main Street and Thunder Canyon Road.”

      “She seemed like she knew you pretty well.”

      “Not really.” He didn’t want to say more. But Joss was looking at him, a look that seemed to expect him to tell the truth. So he did. “I had a thing with her last summer. A very short thing.”

      “A СКАЧАТЬ