A Fool's Gold Wedding - Susan Mallery Page 0,6
trailed off. Why did she have to sound like an idiot?
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Yes, I know about Davis’s career in finance.”
“You probably know the particulars.”
“I do.”
“And understand them.”
“Yes.”
She sighed and decided to let that topic of conversation go. “You didn’t join us at Christmas. Was it because you were working?”
“Yes.”
“Saving lives and stuff?”
“For the most part.”
She stared into his dark blue eyes and could almost swear she heard birds singing. “So other people could be with their families?”
“It’s easier for me to take those shifts.”
Of course it was. She’d spent the holidays baking cookies and wrapping presents and hanging out with her friends.
“Maybe I should start volunteering somewhere,” she murmured.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing. Well, you’re here now and it’s nice to meet you. So do you have plans for the time you’re in town?”
“Not really. I was hoping I could tag along for whatever it is you’re doing. If it’s not too much trouble.”
And while that sounded yummy, she had to be honest. “You’re more than welcome to hang out, but I have a bunch of wedding things to do. There’s a special project I’m working on that my sister doesn’t know about but is going to love and there are a lot of last-minute details.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Are you sure? Because it’s mostly family stuff. Oh, wow, you have to meet the family. You’ll need to brace yourself. The Hendrix clan is massive. There is no having a small wedding if we’re invited. Just the immediate family is at least forty people. Plus friends from work, college, Fool’s Gold and out of town. The wedding is up to over three hundred people.”
Joaquin raised his eyebrows. “I can’t imagine Davis knowing that many people. Not well enough to invite to the wedding.”
“Yeah, a lot of them come from Melissa’s side. It’s not hard. Seriously. My dad is one of six kids and they all have spouses and kids and it goes from there. Although I have to admit, I’m not a big-wedding kind of girl. I’d like something small and intimate. But again, the family kind of makes that impossible.”
“What does your fiancé think about your wedding plans?”
Fiancé? She laughed. “No. There’s no guy. It was a mythical, ‘one day’ kind of statement. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
She pressed her lips together and told herself to stop talking about her single state. Desperation didn’t look pretty on anyone. Not that she was desperate. She wasn’t. In fact, she liked being single. The whole boyfriend thing was overrated, or it had been until about fifteen minutes ago.
“What about you?” she asked. “Are you bringing someone to the wedding?”
“No. It will just be me.”
Yay! She did her best to keep from bouncing in place.
“Just to double-check, you’re sure, sure you’re all right with the wedding stuff?”
“I’m sure-sure.”
“There will be votive painting and running errands and confirming details. In between I can show you the town and stuff...” Which all sounded really boring.
But instead of complaining, Joaquin smiled. “I have no idea what a votive is, but I am happy to learn. I will paint with gusto—or not, depending on what is required.”
“You’re much nicer than I expected,” she said before she could stop herself, then winced. “Not that I didn’t think you’d be, you know, nice. I just thought you’d be stuffier. I guess the doctor thing.” She sighed. “I’m going to stop talking now.”
Once again Joaquin’s gaze shifted. “I have my moments, Abby. I can be as difficult and deceptive as everyone else. But for you, I will do my best to be charming.”
Deceptive? That was an interesting word choice.
“I’m not sure you have to try to be charming,” she murmured. “Okay, if you’re ready, let’s go introduce you to the town.”
CHAPTER THREE
THE TOWN WAS just as strange close up as it had been from Joaquin’s hotel window. There were all kinds of small stores lining the main street. Flowers hung from pots, different businesses had set out water bowls for dogs. There were banners and posters and everyone greeted everyone else. To be honest, that much friendliness was his idea of hell, but he would endure for a greater good.
Abby Hendrix was nothing like he’d imagined. She was bright and lively—radiating enough energy to light up a city block. She was unexpectedly beautiful, in an unconventional way, with freckles on pale skin and big green eyes. She wore her hair in a short, spikey cut that suited her. Her mouth was full, but what surprised him the most was