never in my life heard Amber say so many nice things all at once. I bring my hands up to rest on hers and suddenly she’s like a frightened animal, her eyes scared and her body tense.
“Amber, honey, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself.”
Amber jerks her hands from me, a mask of indifference sliding neatly across her face.
“Whatever,” she says. “You can do whatever you want; I was just trying to warn you.”
“Amber,” I say, attempting to make eye contact with her again.
“No, it’s cool, just forget I mentioned it. I’ll be in the stockroom scratching off the poison warnings.”
I watch Amber in her uniform of black clothes and spiky collar retreat to the back of the shop. Maybe she’s been eating too much of the flavored body powder. She’s wrong about Sam. He’s no womanizer. If all he wanted from me was a booty call, my psychic alarms bells would be dinging their butts off. She’s wrong and that’s all there is to it. She’s wrong. She has to be.
Chapter 9
“I don’t know, I think the color clashes with your hickey.” Luanne, head titled sideways in thoughtful consideration, stands in the bedroom doorway watching as I try on the lavender Maid of Honor dress my mother sent by Fed Ex today.
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” I ask her.
“A junkyard dog would sooner let go of a t-bone steak.”
I’ve been trying to redirect Luanne away from the hickey by filling her in on my toe-assault. But she’s smelled blood and isn’t giving up.
“I know it wasn’t Dr. Scholl that gave you that love bite, so fess up. Who were you out playing tonsil-hockey with the other night?”
I know I’m going to have to tell her but I really, really don’t want to see the ‘I knew it,’ face. I put off the moment of truth and turn to assess myself in the full-length mirror. The soft purple color of the dress is a beautiful contrast to my pale, lightly-freckled skin and my wavy black hair. The dress is svelte, hugging my body and putting my curvy figure on full display. I gingerly touch the place where I know the hickey exists, covered by a heavy application of makeup. I hope it disappears before the wedding since the ceremony is outside and the summer heat is likely to melt away any cover job.
I glimpse Luanne’s reflection in the mirror as she walks behind me. She’s pacing, waiting for me to spill the beans. It’s not that I think her reaction to the news will be bad. She seems to like Sam and I know she wants me to be happy, but she’s been expecting this. She knows that regardless of my resolution to date simpler men, when it comes to a hot guy with a dangerous smile, I am a weak, weak girl.
“It was Sam,” I admit, spitting out the words like I’m tearing off a band-aid.
“Sam. As in motorcycle riding, lady loving, everything you said you didn’t want in a man, Sam James? Is that the Sam you’re talking about?”
As anticipated, Luanne’s expression is not so much shocked as it is nonplused. She knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him, and she isn’t even psychic. “If you’re talking about the Sam James who runs a successful business and always acts in a most gentleman-like manner, then yes, it’s him.”
“Okay, fair enough. I just got one question. Where do giant hickeys rate on your gentleman scale from one to ten?”
“Lu, that’s so unfair.”
“So, like a two?”
“Will you give it a rest, please? I like him. I know I shouldn’t but I do, and I’m seeing him again tonight. Now, what do you think of the dress?”
Luanne falls on the bed and snaps up a magazine. “You look beautiful, as always,” she says, bored by my indecisiveness. “Who’re you takin’ to this shindig anyway, Mr. Gentlemanly Behavior?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I haven’t asked him yet. I don’t want to scare him off, asking him to come to a family wedding so soon. Do you think that’s moving too fast?”
“Only if it’s a surprise wedding and he’s the groom.”
I can’t help but giggle at that one. I guess I deserve a bit of ribbing. I did swear off bad boys only a few weeks ago and here I am, already back to my old tricks. I