The Mistake (Bad Bridesmaids #1) - Noelle Adams Page 0,7

squeezing her eyes shut.

She breathed and shook. Breathed and shook. Until she’d gotten her composure again.

It didn’t seem right that her sister’s most happy day was also the death of all her romantic daydreams.

But that was life. It would play you for a fool every time. Pull the rug right out from under you. And laugh when you tumbled to the ground in an awkward heap.

It was silly to expect anything else.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, bent over the railing, but eventually a presence behind her poked at her consciousness.

With a gasp, she straightened up and whirled around.

Robert Castleman. Standing silently several feet away. Two glasses of champagne in his hands.

“What?” she demanded, too emotionally stretched to feign politeness.

He arched his eyebrows.

She made a face at him. “You’re the one who followed me out here when I was clearly not looking for company. You shouldn’t look so arrogantly baffled if I’m not perfectly polite to you.”

“I thought you might need another drink.” His voice was smooth. Cool. But with a pleasant guttural texture that softened it somehow.

She reached for the glass he offered and took a gulp. “Thanks,” she muttered.

He didn’t reply, and she wasn’t sure what to say. He must have seen her a minute before. She’d been having a silent, emotional collapse, and there wasn’t much chance that he hadn’t recognized it. At least he wouldn’t know what it was about.

“For what it’s worth,” Robert said, stepping over to stand beside her at the rail, “I think he made the wrong choice.” He wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was on the garden beyond them as he took a sip from his own glass.

She was in such a mental upheaval that it took a minute for Amanda to follow him. When she did, she gasped. “What?”

He arched his eyebrows again, finally turning his eyes back to her face.

“You have no idea what’s happening here.”

“I never said I did,” he replied.

“Well, you’re acting like you know, and it’s presumptuous and obnoxious. So don’t.”

Ridiculously, she felt a little better now. Her annoyance with him was diverting her from the heartache.

“Okay. I won’t.” His eyes glinted slightly in the soft landscape lighting.

“Wow, you’re an asshole.”

“If you say so. I won’t even mention that you’re the one going on the attack when all I did was offer you some champagne.”

“You did way more than that.”

His lips were thin and mobile and clever. She was drawn to them irrationally as he quirked them up in a quick half smile. “Okay.”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll shut up if you’ll let me get you drunk.”

“What? Why do I need to get drunk?”

“We both know why.”

Damn it. He did know. She could see it on his face. She had no idea how, and it was strangely frightening that he could see into her like that. But beyond the fear was something gratifying. That he’d seen her. For real.

That she mattered enough for someone to make the effort.

“I don’t even like you,” she said.

He gave a little shrug. “What does that have to do with anything? Let me get you drunk.”

It was definitely a sign of her emotional vulnerability, but it was the best offer she’d gotten in ages.

So she blinked. Then nodded. Then said, “Okay. Fine. Get me drunk please.”

Robert chuckled softly. “It would be my pleasure.”

two

AN HOUR AND A HALF later, Amanda was feeling fine.

Just fine.

Really fine.

So fine she could barely remember what she’d been so upset about earlier.

Even the cheaper champagne tasted good, and she couldn’t seem to stop giggling. She’d never been much of a giggler, so it felt like a treat to have so little control of her laughter.

She’d finished off another glass of bubbly wine, so she set it down on the table with impressive emphasis. The tablecloth kept it from making a satisfying click of sound, but still... She gazed at the glass with bland gratification.

“What is it?” Robert asked from beside her. He hadn’t yet finished the scotch in his glass. He’d had a couple of rounds but not nearly as much as her.

“I finished my champagne.”

“I can see that. Are you thinking you might be finished for good?” His voice had a warm, pleasant texture beneath the crisp intelligence. She wasn’t sure why she’d never noticed it before. It gave her a little shiver that was impossible not to enjoy.

But she had enough wits about her to recognize the significance of his question. She turned her head slowly away from her empty glass and blinked at his handsome