Page 22 of Always a Bridesmaid
Another glossy paper fell from the binder as Addie flipped the page. She excitedly tapped a picture in the middle. “This is the one. A cake like this, but with daisies.”
“And a cake.” Lexi’s voice came out at an octave he’d previously thought only dogs could hear. When she sat back in her own seat, Violet appeared a bit shell-shocked, but a smile slowly spread across her face.
Lexi latched onto Addie’s arm and dragged her toward the bakery counter while calling Maisy’s name.
A few silent seconds ticked by, and then Violet haughtily lifted her chin. “See, I’m not obsessed or too intense. I’m a miracle worker.”
“My apologies,” he deadpanned.
Arms tightly crossed her chest, emphasizing her cleavage. Before he could rein himself in, his fingers twitched with the urge to grab her chair and tug her closer. Ask what was up with that ridiculous binder, and why didn’t she have a ring on her finger?
“Why do you sound so sarcastic?” she asked. “Yes, you met me on a super shitty day—”
“The shittiest, I believe you called it. Sounded like it was from more than starting that fire, too.” There he went, poking the beast instead of deescalating the situation.
Her nostrils flared. “Right. On both counts, actually, although I’d rather we pretend the fire never happened.”
“I’m fine with that. Not sure I can say the same for the oven.”
She exhaled as if he’d taken up every ounce of her patience—which, fair. “The point is, I’m not normally like that. All flustered and creating a disaster in my wake. I’d even go so far as to say I’m relatively levelheaded, especially considering everything I’ve been through.”
Ford jerked his chin at the binder. “I’m assuming the reason you hid from me this morning and made thatrecovering bridesmaidremark is because you’re engaged and get to be the star now?”
Violet’s mouth hung open for a beat, and then she blinked and shook her head. “No, nope, and no.”
His lungs contracted with an odd amalgamation of relief and apprehension, as if he were facing down a bear and couldn’t decide if he should marvel at the sight or slowly back away with his hands up.
Though her answer was far from straightforward—she’d skimmed right past why she’d hid and what her earlier remark had meant. Was she purposely withholding to be infuriating? And why couldn’t he stop prying?
“Then why do you have your entire wedding planned?” Call it self-sabotage, but he needed to keep his wits about him. Ever since Violet joined them, his thoughts had been on the scrambled side. He wanted to tempt her closer and push her away all at the same time.
“Oh, don’t even start. You sit there all judgy, but I bet you have a stack of wildlife or vehicle magazines—or whatever other country-bumpkin hobby you’re into—at your house. It’s the same thing; mine’s just better organized.”
Amusement set in, making it that much harder to disengage. Kitty had claws, and he sort of enjoyed the way she raked them over him. “Sounds like you’re fishing for an invite to my house.”
“With how big your ego is, I doubt I’d fit inside.” Violet began to push away, and he flattened his palm to the thigh of his jeans so he wouldn’t reach out, snag her hand, and ask her to stay.
If he did that, he’d also have to apologize for being an asshole about the binder and the jab about starting a fire. Apologizing wasn’t one of his many talents, and the faster she fled, the sooner he could scrub her out of his head.
“Thank you for reminding me why I’ve given up men,” Violet muttered, taking a step in the other direction.
The chime that accompanied the opening of the doorpinged. With a tiny squeak, Violet abruptly reversed course and dove for the table. She bypassed her chair and dropped to the floor by his mud-coated Adidas. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Ford glanced from Mayor Hurst and his wife, Cheryl, to the girl trying to become one with his leg. “Somethin’ I can help you with, ma’am?”
“Shhh. Just shut up,” she hissed.
“Well, if you’re going to be mean…” He shifted as if he were going to stand.
“Wait.” Violet clamped onto his leg, her fingernails digging into his calf muscles as she held him in place. “I’m sorry, okay? Even though you’re a cocky ass, I shouldn’t have told you to shut up.”
“Anyone ever tell you that your apologies are somewhat lacking?”
The Hursts walked to the cash register, and Violet hunkered down more. She crawled around to his other side on her hands and knees.
A large truck drove down Main Street, its muffler in desperate need of repair, and Mayor Hurst idly glanced out the large bakery window.
Violet wrapped herself around his leg like a koala bear, and her head brushed his inner thigh. If they’d been acquainted for longer and there wasn’t a chance of her mistaking a joke for a serious request, he’d make an inappropriateHey, while you’re down there…remark.
