You May Kiss the Bridesmaid - Camilla Isley Page 0,10
more of a front-end cat. Like PR or marketing. Event planning, maybe?”
“Heaven spare me, I’ll leave that to Tucker.” She smiles. “Poor bastard. How my sister and Logan roped him into organizing this wedding is still beyond me.”
“Well, Tucker is our logistics man… so.”
“Still, camping supplies and survival gear are a far cry from frills and flowers. He seemed so stressed at the meeting you skipped.”
“Hey, I had an emergency.”
Deep blue eyes pierce me. “What kind of emergency?”
I shuffle through the possible answers:
Option number one: A sleepover involving a redhead who made me work extra time last night and miss my wakeup call today?
Nah, buddy, the lady is already prejudiced enough thanks to whatever stories her sister has been feeding her, which I will have to investigate later.
Option number two: A slip-up with the wedding rings and their unexpected retrieval inside the fridge? Cute, self-deprecating enough. This is the way to go, I tell her the story.
Summer laughs. “The fridge, uh? How did the box end up in there?”
“I swear I still have no idea.”
We chuckle again, and I’m happy to note she finally appears more relaxed. Nothing super obvious, but her mouth doesn’t go taut the moment she stops speaking, her body language seems less rigid, and even her eyes have more of a spark. “But promise never to tell Tucker or Winter,” I add.
“You bet,” she says. “Anyway, you’re lucky you missed that meeting. Tucker was super picky, and my sister… She’s gone a little bridezilla.”
“Winter?”
“Yeah, I know she’s usually the laid-back queen, but getting married has made her obsessive.”
“Is that why you didn’t join them for dinner?”
Summer’s easy-going expression darkens. “No,” she says. “I just wasn’t feeling that social.” She stares at the counter for a long moment before adding, “To be honest, I can’t wait for the week to be over. I’m dreading the next few days.”
I don’t know why she’s opening up to me. It might be the two glasses of wine, or that I already know about the skeletons in her closet. But I’ll gladly use any breach into the mystery that is Summer Knowles.
“Because of what happened with Lana? I met her earlier, and she’s cool.”
“She’s not the issue; everybody else is. My entire old circle of friends.”
“Are they being nasty?”
“That’s what I’m expecting, but I haven’t talked to any of them in months, so I don’t really know…”
“Maybe they won’t be as bad.”
“Yeah, sure, and tomorrow the sky will part and unicorns will come galloping down the rainbows.”
I swallow the last bite of my burger. “Sarcastic much?”
“Realistic. I foresee dark times ahead. I’m going to spend this week in isolation, and that’s the optimistic outcome.”
“Hey, we can be buddies if you ever feel lonely.”
Summer picks up her glass, eyeing me with half a smile. “Are you propositioning me?”
“Hey, I’m single, you’re single. I offer a week of great, no-strings-attached fun. But if you prefer to mope alone over spilled milk…”
She takes a sip of wine while studying my face, her eyes lowering to my mouth.
I’m already thinking I have this in the bag when she says, “Thanks, but no, thanks.”
My expression must crumble, because Summer adds, “Oh, please, don’t sad-dog me, I’m sure you’ll find another hook up by tomorrow night.”
“May I ask why the hard pass?” I make a half-cute, half-dismayed pout. “Am I not handsome enough?”
“Oh, you’re very handsome.” She finishes the wine and drops the glass on the counter, her eyes returning to my mouth. “Even if I’ve never much cared for”—her hands waver in the general direction of my chin—“facial hair.”
“You mean my beard?” I exclaim, pulling at it. “Ladies all over the world have loved it.”
“And that’s the other thing. Lately, I’m trying to make smart decisions—”
“And smart and fun are mutually exclusive in your vocabulary?”
“I’ve slept with three men total in my life, and you’ve probably slept with as many women in the past month, if not more. This arrangement you propose wouldn’t carry the same weight for both of us.” She extends a hand toward me. “Friends?”
I groan. “What is it with the Knowles sisters and just wanting to be my friends?”
Summer smiles. “Genes?”
I take her hand, not yet ready to accept defeat. As I get up, I pull close to her, bending down to whisper in her ear, “I’m in room 452 if you change your mind. I can make you forget your name if that’s what you want.”
Four
Summer
Archie’s breath is a warm caress down my neck. I swallow, trying to keep it together.