Page 2 of Chase Me

Wes hung up his phone and winked at the disheveled waiter with the empty tray. “Told you Ciara would swing some of her magic.”

He was such a sweet talker. She hoped he was a dirty talker too. Whoa, wait. Down girl. She had to get a date with himfirst. “I’ll go grab it, but the bouquet toss is in a few minutes. Go chat up all the single girls and talk them into standing up to catch the bouquet.”

One wink or an eyebrow waggle from him and they’d all be smashing each other in the face to catch those flowers whether they wanted to or not.

“I’ll go get the champagne, you go catch the bouquet.” Wes shook his head and shivered.

Lots of bouquets were in her future, but not for catching. Always the wedding planner, never the bride. Yet.

Here goes nothing, or something, or gah, just ask him.

“Hey, I just landed the Barton wedding. We should celebrate.”

Wes grinned. “You are going to make us all zillionaires. I cannot even keep up.”

Okay, this was going well. Ask him. “So, you’ll go out with me to celebrate?”

“You bet.”

He didn’t hesitate even a little. She should have asked him months and months… and months ago.

“Are you free on Wednesday?” They had weddings on the weekends, but she hoped she didn’t sound lame for suggesting a weeknight.

“Nope. But, I could do Thursday. Dinner, drinks, and I know the greatest place to go clubbing.”

Dinner, drinks, and dancing. Perfect.

She wanted to jump up and down and clap her hands.

Not appropriate.

Be cool.

Ciara drew upon her inner cucumber-ness. “Sounds great.”

Enough said. Right? Yeah, that was fine. She didn’t want tolook overly enthusiastic. She’d save that for the in-bed portion of their evening.

Geez, she needed to get her mind out of the gutter. She’d gone from dinner and dancing to handcuffs and blindfolds in seconds. Oh, please let him be at least a little kinky.

“Ciara?”

“Yeah?” She blinked, still caught up in her fantasy sex life with Wesley.

“You feeling alright? You look a little flushed.”

She’d be fine and dandy if she could get the real Wesley into her fantasy life. “Yep. Great. Go grab that champagne and get it on ice.”

“You’re the best, you know that, right?” Wes grabbed her in a bear hug and danced her around. He jerked back and rubbed at his chest. “Ouch, your necklace bit me.”

“Oh, geez. Sorry.” Ciara put her hand over the colorful pendant she’d gotten a few days ago. She didn’t feel anything sharp.

“Pretty but painful, doll.” Wes examined the charm, staring a scant inch above Ciara’s boobs. “It would go with everything. Where’d you get it?”

Damn. She’d kind of hoped Wesley had sent it. Not likely, but she was ever hopeful. Must be from her mother, who rarely gave gifts. Weird.

“Oh my god, Ciara, there you are. I’m getting a divorce, or is it an annulment? Whatever. George is such an ass. I want out of this marriage right now.” The bride ran into the kitchen and faux collapsed into Ciara’s arms.

She glanced at Wes, who shook his head and smirked. He mouthed the words good luck and backed away from them.

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