Page 13 of Bridesmaid to Bride

“Paige is going to plotz when she sees these pics.” I sneak a glance at my watch. Crap. The cocktail party started five minutes ago. “Hey, Hayes, we good? I’m supposed to be schmoozing guests by now.” Well, and meeting my potential future fiancé.

“Good?” Hayes grins, lowering the camera. “We’re Pet Gala cover good.”

“Great.”

The dog-sitting hotel staffer finally arrives, gasping when she sees that we’re finished shooting. “I’m so very sorry, Ms. Steinberg!” Her hands are over her mouth. “I got a text message from the manager saying this photoshoot was delayed, and to come at this time.”

My brows furrow. “Who told the manager to tell you that?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

I don’t have time to waste worrying about this, so I say, “That’s fine. We worked it out.” Then I ask her to take the bridesmaids’ dresses to the cleaners, deliver the dogs back to Skye’s suite, and dispose of the fake pupcakes. After throwing on some gold long chain earrings, I say, “I’m ready.”

Worry etches across West’s face as he points at me. “You might need a fix up job too.”

I look down to see my frosting-covered dress and limbs. “Shit—I’ve gotta go. I’m already late.”

“They can wait. You’re worth it.” He touches my arm. “And you can only wear frosting for special, private dates, not out in public, so come on—let me help you.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“No problem.” He grabs my arm and ushers me into the women’s bathroom.

“Is this your version of romance, West?”

“Relax, Manhattan.” He glances around the deserted room with a roguish grin plastered on his face. “If I’m romancing you, you’ll know it.”

“Noted,” I deadpan, wishing he were doing that as I watch him pull paper towels from the dispenser with the efficiency of a man who’s survived his share of shenanigans, which I know he has.

After dampening the towels under the faucet, he says, “You’ve got some blue icing on your armpit.”

“What? Blue pit stains aren’t all the rage?” There’s fondness in my voice. It’s beyond endearing that he’s here, in the ladies’ room helping me.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s kinda hot.” West’s touch is delicate as he works on a stubborn blob.

“You would. Let me guess. It makes you think of IceWoman.” While he’s doing that, I reapply makeup from my clutch. I can’t help but notice the careful way he’s tending to me. It’s gentle. Respectful. And dangerously close to making my heart do somersaults.

“Oh, yeah. IceWoman. That’s way hot.” Sparkles dance in his chestnut eyes.

I laugh. “God, West, we’re so odd.”

“Nah. Just unique.”

“Unique,” I whisper, and as he works on my stain, our eyes meet, and for just a moment, I forget all the marching orders that run on a perma-loop through my mind.

After a few more swipes, he says, “Okay, all done.”

“Thanks,” I murmur, catching his reflection behind mine. He’s watching me, not in a creepy way, but like he’s enjoying this.

“Anytime.” His voice is soft, and I swear if my heart had boots, it’d be quaking in them.

I dab on some lipstick, trying to ignore the way my stomach flutters as he stands close, the scent of his cologne mingling with the vanilla frosting. There’s no one else I’d rather have in this cramped, fluorescent-lit fortress, cleaning me up and making me laugh.

“You know…” he trails off, touching his cheek. “Here’s my face again. If you want to kiss it.”

God, actually I do. So much.

“Thanks for letting me know.” Without thinking, I lean into him. He’s already so close, and that face is so damn kissable. Not to mention that beautiful mouth and those sexy lips.

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