Learning Curves - By Elyse Mady Page 0,51
this was for her, coming face-to-face with the proof that she never measured up against her mother’s impossible standards?
“Sure I do. You asked me to come tonight because we’re friends and you needed someone to act as your date.” He took her cold hands in his, rubbing them gently. “It may seem hard to believe, but I do know how to behave in polite society.”
“I know that.”
“So I want you to take a deep breath and let yourself relax. We’ll get through the evening together. I promise it’ll be okay.” He leaned his head close to her ear and whispered, “And no matter how nicely anyone asks, I’ll only take my clothes off for you if there’s dancing.”
She laughed, the sound a little wheezy. The reassurance in his voice melted away the knot of panic twisting in the pit of her stomach. He’d see for himself she wasn’t the sexually adventurous and flirty woman he’d known this past week. Despite her academic achievements, her mother and her friends always made her feel as though she was doing something wrong with her life. Tonight, she’d enjoy showing them something she’d gotten right.
She plastered a bright smile on her face. He squeezed her hand and a warm flood of longing washed over Leanne’s body. Not sharp, driving lust but tenderness miles removed from their usual reckless passion. Even in the bright lights of the lobby, his fingers wrapped around hers felt dangerously intimate.
More worryingly, it felt surprisingly natural to be walking with him hand in hand.
“Well, that’s a relief. Because I kept waiting for you fling yourself out of the car when you realized just what you’d gotten yourself into.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he said. For a moment, Leanne wished that it might be true.
Following the signs to the Fields-Saunders Rehearsal Dinner, they made their way across the club’s plush carpet. Brandon’s hand still held hers captive. She cast a questioning glance at him and looked down pointedly at their entwined fingers. Brandon simply smiled, revealing one of his dimples.
“I believe in doing things thoroughly.”
Before she could process his startling words, he pulled the door open and led them into the private dining room. The room was dotted with well-dressed groups of dinner guests, and waitstaff circulated with trays filled with champagne flutes. Her father hurried forward with a hearty greeting. “Leanne, Brandon. I’m so glad you could both make it.”
Drawing them forward, he began to conduct them around the room, stopping to introduce Brandon to Gillian’s parents.
“Barb, Paul, I’d like you to meet Leanne’s new boyfriend, Brandon Myles.”
Leanne opened her mouth to correct her father’s mistake, but before she could speak, Brandon extending his free hand and shook their hands, offering his congratulations on their daughter’s approaching nuptials.
Aunt Barb smiled coyly, her meticulously preserved face agog at the sight of her bookish goddaughter flanked by such a gorgeous man. She wagged a disapproving finger.
“Leanne, you’ve been holding out on us.”
Leanne smiled and settled for a noncommittal shrug. “It’s good to see you, Aunt Barb. How’s everything going with the wedding plans?”
Barbara launched into a saga of incompetent florists, misdirected calla lilies and a venue snafu that had seen the kitchens planning for a dairy-free meal when she’d specifically requested gluten-free.
Through the endless litany, Brandon kept Leanne’s fingers firmly entwined between his, his face never displaying a moment’s impatience.
“But Gillian’s been an angel through the whole process,” Barb finally concluded. “We’re all just so excited to welcome Jeremy into the family.”
“I’m sure.”
“But here I’ve been, monopolizing the conversation. So tell me, any big days in your future? I know your mom would love to help plan a big wedding herself, you know.”
Oh God. Kill me now.
This was why Leanne avoided weddings. It was bad enough having to attend on your own but when you brought a date, everyone asked intrusive questions about your future together as a couple.
But before she could work up a convincing lie, her father interjected. “I probably should make sure I introduce Brandon to Sandra.”
His eyes danced with merriment. Her father knew exactly how eager she was to escape Barb’s inquisition.
“Yes, that sounds good,” she said, ignoring the conspiratorial glance that passed between her dad and her date. But she feigned nonchalance and soon found herself trailing along as her father repeated the introductions to Jeremy’s parents, the entire wedding party and finally her mother.
“Sandy,” her dad called. “Come and I’ll introduce you to Brandon.”
Mom turned from her tête-à-tête with the bride and groom