Page 99 of The Gingerbread Bakery
Daisy peered over at him one more time. ‘Cute, maybe, but I’ve sworn off men anyway.’
‘Now hold on,’ Iris said. ‘You said you swore off love. That doesn't mean you have to swear off men altogether. You know they are good for other things,’ she said with a wink.
Daisy laughed, tucking her dark hair behind her ear. She looked gorgeous in her slinky black dress. It really was no wonder the weird architect guy was staring at her.
‘I forgot to mention,’ Annie said. ‘You don’t need to worry about your curse ruining this marriage.’
‘Really, and why’s that? Because Logan and Jeanie love each other so much?’
‘Nope,’ Annie said with a grin. ‘Because Estelle brought back a magic, olden-times nightie that will bring them good luck.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’ Iris asked.
‘I tracked her to New Hampshire today where she was fighting with her ancient cousin over a nightgown that will now feature prominently in my nightmares. Oh, my God, see!’
Annie gestured over to where Estelle stood in front of Jeanie and Logan’s table holding up the offensive garment.
Jeanie had a smile plastered on her face, but Logan looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die.
Annie, Iris, and Daisy burst out laughing.
‘Hey, Annie, looks like your sister is stealing your man,’ Daisy said once they’d recovered from their fit of giggles.
Annie’s head whipped to the dance floor where Mac was currently twirling her sister, Charlotte, in a slow circle.
Annie’s brain short-circuited.
What the actual fuck.
‘If you’ll excuse me, ladies,’ she said, getting up from her seat so fast their empty glasses rattled on the table. No time to track down her shoes; she marched across the room barefoot to where Elliot stood with wide eyes at her approach.
‘I need you to dance with me,’ she said, grabbing him by the hand.
‘I actually… I just…’
‘It really doesn't matter,’ Annie cut him off. ‘I need you to dance with me for one song. Okay? We're not getting married or anything. No need to worry.’ She dragged him onto the dance floor.
Poor Elliot took one more glance at Daisy and followed Annie into the throng of dancers.
* * *
‘Told you it would work,’ Charlotte said, looking over his shoulder at where Annie had just charged onto the dance floor.
Mac could feel Annie's rage boring into the back of his head.
Of course it worked. How many times had they done this? He’d bring a date somewhere and then Annie did. Over and over again, they’d tormented each other.
He was tired of it but, if this was the only way to get Annie to pay attention, then he would do whatever it took. She’d been avoiding him all night, ever since they had walked back down the aisle together. Her arm had felt so right in his, he hadn’t wanted to let go, but there were photos to be taken and toasts to be given. She’d even managed to scramble up the bridal party for the first dance and he’d ended up dancing with Hazel while Noah got to dance with Annie.
He told himself he was going to be patient. He was going to wait for the wedding to be over like he promised he would, but Annie, in that dress, was making it impossible. It hugged every delicious curve of her. Every dip, every delectable bit of her body was on display, and as the night wore on, Mac found himself with less and less patience.
So, when Annie's little sister, who insisted he call her ‘Charlie’ now, offered him a dance, it seemed like the perfect way to spur Annie into action.
Except there was a flaw in his plan because, as he slowly spun Charlie on the dance floor, he came face to face with Annie in another man’s arms. Who the hell was that guy with his hand on Annie’s back, his fingertips grazing her bare skin in the exact place Mac had imagined touching all night? The guy from the inn? Whoever he was, Mac wanted him dead.
‘You okay?’ Charlie asked. ‘You got all weirdly tense there for a minute.’
Mac cleared his throat, and Annie caught his eye over the shoulder of her dance partner. She gave him a satisfied little smirk.
