Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,44

with you.”

A smile stole over my face. “That’s great, sugar. Thank you.”

“What should I wear?”

“I suppose it’ll be dressy, but not formal. I’ll wear a tie, if that helps.”

Wait, who the fuck was I? No cheeky remark about her panties, or lack thereof?

“Okay, perfect. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Got it on my calendar. See you then.”

“Thanks again, sugar. I’ll see you Friday.”

I ended the call, feeling a hell of a lot better. We were good. And I’d see her Friday.

Although I sure did wish I’d be seeing her sooner.

An hour into Irene’s dinner party, my cute little sugar bug had everyone under her spell.

I’d picked her up at seven o’clock sharp, and damn it was good to see her. Her blond curls were down around her shoulders and the skirt on her dark blue dress had a little swing to it. It kind of reminded me of the dress she’d been wearing when she’d climbed off that balcony and I’d seen…

Well, I’d seen everything.

It had been a little glimpse of heaven. But that wasn’t what tonight was about.

Her friendly smile instantly charmed Irene and her husband Gary. The fact that she almost tripped when we first walked in the door only made her more endearing. Or maybe it was the way she’d straightened and made a light joke out of it, rather than acting flustered or embarrassed. She had grit, my Sophie. I liked that.

Now we sat at the dinner table, chatting and telling stories. I couldn’t stop gazing at her. And it wasn’t because I had my eye on the prize—the prize being gettin’ it on later. I just liked the way she looked. The way she sounded. The way she smelled. The way she smiled.

“I have to admit, Cox, I was surprised when I heard you’d gotten married,” Gary said. “I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

I slung my arm over the back of Sophie’s chair. “Yeah, but can you blame me?”

Sophie laughed softly.

“I think you did it right,” Irene said. “A Vegas wedding would have been marvelous.”

Gary turned to his wife. “I thought you wanted the big wedding?”

“I did, and don’t get me wrong: It was beautiful. But wouldn’t it have been nice to skip all the family drama?”

“That would have been nice,” he said.

“A small wedding seems so pure,” she said. “There’s a simplicity to it. You can focus on what matters.”

“Honestly, it wasn’t what I pictured for my wedding,” Sophie said. “But I guess it was nice not to have to worry about dress fittings or table assignments or whether there would be more people sitting on the groom’s side than the bride’s and the whole thing would look horribly lopsided.”

I twirled one of her curls around my finger. I couldn’t help myself. “I don’t have a big family either, so I bet our sides would have been more or less even.”

“Oh. Well, still. Getting married in Vegas was fun.”

“Now that’s a fact,” I said. “We had a great time.”

Dinner went on, followed by dessert. Conversations wound down and eventually it was time to go. Sophie hugged both Irene and Gary at the door, and although she dropped her phone twice and got tangled in her purse strap, we made it out to my car in one piece.

She was quiet on the drive back to her building. I found a parking spot across the street but hesitated before getting out of the car.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” I said.

“You’re welcome.”

There was something in her voice—a hint of sadness.

“Is something wrong?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about what I said. I sort of lied earlier.”

“About what?”

“When we were talking about our Vegas wedding, I made it sound like I was happy about it.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. “I know you were just making conversation. Making it sound real.”

“Yeah. But it felt wrong to say it. I mean, the simplicity of it would have been a silver lining. Weddings are a lot of work. But I wouldn’t have wanted that for my real wedding. My dad wasn’t there, and neither were my friends. When I was talking, I kept thinking that I’d deal with dress fittings and table assignments and the fact that my side would be almost empty if it meant that they could be there on my special day.”

I stared at her, not quite sure what to say. There was a bit of hurt in her voice that made me want to gather her in my arms and make it all