The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,309

the lid and Libby sighed with relief when she saw perfectly ordinary items—rolled jeans, some rolled T-shirts, a cosmetic bag. It was far neater than she usually packed. It had Megan’s touch all over it. “Megan grabbed your makeup bag and some shampoo and shower gel.”

Libby broke into a huge grin. She didn’t usually mind going so au naturel, but she had a sudden urge to look her best for Noah tonight, which would require her full arsenal. “What else did you bring?”

Gram gave her a mischievous glance as she pulled out several slinky cocktail dresses. “For you to go out with Noah.”

Libby’s pulse picked up at the thought of wearing the black beaded dress with its neckline that plunged farther south than an Antarctic expedition. “Gram.”

Nana Ruby shook her head and mumbled something about pneumonia under her breath.

Next Gram pulled out the lingerie Megan and Blair had given her for her honeymoon—a black lace bra and panties and an ivory babydoll with a lace bra, a sheer lace skirt, and matching G-string panties. They were French—and quite expensive. But she reminded herself that she had no business wearing them here in Vegas, even if the thought of Noah’s reaction made her skin flush.

She had to pull herself together.

She feigned a sigh of impatience. “In case you’ve turned senile since Saturday—and I know you haven’t—you know as well as I do that this is a road trip, not a honeymoon.”

The older woman shrugged and tossed a pair of red lacy panties onto the bed. “Then there’s this.” She held up a sexy, silver, barely-there negligee.

“Um . . . Gram. That’s not mine.”

She winked. “I know. It was my wedding gift to you. I hope you don’t mind that I unwrapped it and put it in with your things.”

“Since there was technically no wedding, you don’t need to give me anything at all. You should return it.”

Gram waved her off. “You need this.”

Need it? No. That nightie would get her into trouble faster than she could charge up her Visa in an art store. “I’ve sworn off men for the next year. I won’t be needing that anytime soon.”

“Sworn off men?” Gram asked in dismay.

“Leave the poor girl alone, Maude,” Nana Ruby muttered, shaking her head. “She doesn’t need a man. A year off might be good for her.”

“Poppycock!” Gram exclaimed, waving her hand around as if she were physically batting away nonsense. She turned to Libby. “Why would you give up men? Have your ovaries shriveled up? Are you having hot flashes?”

She was having hot flashes all right, but not the kind Gram was talking about. “No, Gram. Let’s just say I keep making stupid choices with men. Maybe it would be best if I took some time off to focus on me. Then I can figure out what kind of guy I want.”

It was far easier to figure out what she didn’t want—some version of Josh, Garrett, or Mitch. She’d be bored in ten minutes if she married a responsible, rule-following, white-collar guy. And that was the problem. The men who weren’t like that were the ones she’d wasted the last twelve years—okay, fifteen years if she included high school—of her life on. Men like that didn’t stick around.

And she couldn’t begin to untangle the knot of complicated feelings she had when she thought about Noah.

But Gram was like a bulldog with a peanut-butter-filled treat. “A year? That’s ridiculous. What if you meet the perfect man for you? Your soul mate?”

Gram’s words sobered her. “I don’t think I have a soul mate.”

“Pfft.” Gram waved her hand. “I know for a fact you have a soul mate.”

Libby needed to change the subject fast. There was no way she wanted to spend this entire trip in some existential funk. “What else is in there?”

Gram put everything back except the black dress. “Oh, you know. This and that.” She leaned toward the bathroom door and shouted, “Noah, you can come out now.”

Dammit. How much had he heard? Why hadn’t she taken into consideration that he could probably hear every word? Of course, she’d already told him about her celibacy plan, but she still didn’t like the thought of him overhearing their conversation.

He emerged from the bathroom grinning ear-to-ear and looked around the room. “What? No Chippendale dancers? No collapsible stripper poles?”

Libby couldn’t suppress her giggle. Given that it was Gram, those things were entirely too possible.

“This girl doesn’t need Chippendales when she has you,” Gram said.

Nana Ruby made a sound like she’d