One Bride Too Many: One Bride Too Many / One Groom To Go. Jennifer Drew. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Jennifer Drew
Издательство: HarperCollins
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eye shadow to toenail polish.

      By Friday evening, Tess still hadn’t decided. Five of Karen’s best dresses were spread out on her bed, and she’d just taken off a sixth when the door buzzer summoned her. She slipped into a short pink robe and hoped she didn’t have a visitor who expected to come inside.

      Why was she not surprised to see Cole’s image in her spy hole? Was this part of his blind-date ritual, reporting to her on the state of the date?

      She opened the door a crack.

      “I’m not dressed.”

      “I don’t mind.” He sounded sheepish but adamant.

      “Good or bad date?”

      “Maybe a few suggestions so you can do better next week.”

      “I didn’t enlist for the duration of the war!”

      “You didn’t enlist at all. You were drafted. Got any popcorn?”

      “I’m not dressed for company.” How could she resist his pathetic smile? “Oh, come in.”

      “I’ll pretend you’re at the beach. Guess you’d have to take off more for that. Would you be more comfortable if I took my shirt off?”

      “Don’t!”

      “Just kidding, not that I have much sense of humor left after that date. I thought she was going to attack me with a steak knife.”

      “Oh, dear. Let me put some popcorn in the microwave. You’re kidding about the knife, right?”

      “I took her to a place that specializes in steaks. She doesn’t eat meat.”

      “That’s not unusual.” She set the timer, conscious of Cole hovering near the sleeve of her robe.

      “She doesn’t wear leather, she doesn’t step on bugs and she only eats salad made with produce that comes with six different labels guaranteeing no chemicals were used in producing it. She made the waiter bring an empty bag from the kitchen. The lettuce flunked.”

      “It’s smart to be careful about what you put in your body.”

      Tess felt defensive. After all, he was the one insisting she find dates for him. Could she help it if there were no perfect women on the dating circuit?

      “I have no problem with vegetarians, but when I order a twenty-five-dollar porterhouse, I don’t want it seasoned with sarcastic remarks.”

      “She lectured, huh? No need to be testy about it with me.”

      The popcorn bag inflated, and she tried to guess the moment when the kernels were through exploding but not yet scorched.

      “Why do you want popcorn if you’re stuffed with prime beef?”

      “I didn’t eat most of it. There’s more.”

      “It gets worse?”

      “Jordan likes to purify her mind through abstinence—no drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, chocolate…”

      “Good for her. She sounds like a great marital candidate.”

      “No sex.”

      “Oh. Are you sure…I mean, you want someone who doesn’t sleep around.”

      “No sex, period.” He looked grim.

      “Come on, you’re making that up.”

      “Except, of course, we do have to consider the future of the human race, so a weekend schedule is acceptable—after marriage, of course.” He started pacing, hands hooked in his pockets.

      “Jordan was pretty intense in high school, now that I think about it. Made straight As, worked as a candy striper at the hospital. Now she has a good job in the insurance industry.”

      “She probably spends her days denying payment for doctor-ordered treatment. I won’t go into her health care theories except to say they involve a lot of yogurt. She has naturally curly hair and…” She followed his pacing into the kitchen, then put out her arms like a crossing guard to stop him.

      “And she weighs ninety pounds with her pockets full of nails.” He slumped over a kitchen chair.

      “Maybe you’re making snap judgments because you really don’t want any blind dates.” She stood over him feeling like a prosecutor with a guilty defendant.

      “Untrue. And I’m not being picky. I can’t have a long-term relationship with a woman who calls me a Jack the Ripper of sweet-faced bovines.”

      “Speaking of that, did I thank you for helping me unload the comatose-cow quilts?”

      “No, and don’t change the subject. She really did call me a serial cattle killer, and she was pointing a steak knife at me when she said it.” He pointed at her little wooden rack of knives on the counter.

      “Sorry. She just moved back here.”

      “Not your fault. I’m not good at blind dates, I guess.”

      “Everyone hates them.”

      “Women, too?”

      “I’d rather have my eyelashes removed.”

      She took the popcorn out of the microwave and yelped when hot steam singed her fingers as she opened the bag.

      “Let me. There is one more small point for future reference. Maybe you could find me a more—let’s say substantial woman.”

      “As in well-endowed?”

      “Sort of.”

      “I thought appearance didn’t matter,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

      “I want to get married, possibly to someone who doesn’t look embalmed.”

      “You’re not being nice. Jordan had a tremendous crush on you in high school.”

      “Lots of girls did—on Zack or me.” He nonchalantly stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

      “You are such a—”

      “Male?”

      There was that.

      “That’s why I liked you,” he said as he munched. “You didn’t. It was fun having a girl as a friend.”

      She snorted, but he was too busy chomping to notice.

      She wandered into her living room, belatedly wishing she’d closed the bedroom door. The bed was easily visible and so loaded with clothes it looked like a rummage sale.

      “Packing to go somewhere?” He followed her, glancing curiously through the open door.

      “No, trying to decide what to wear.”

      “Another wedding?” He licked his buttery fingers.

      “Thankfully, no. Just a party. It’s at the Sherwood Arms, so I probably should dress up.”

      “Who are you going with?”

      “Feel free to ask me anything.”

      “If you’re ashamed of him…”

      “There is no him. It’s just a party. I can invite someone if I like, but when have I had time to concentrate on my love life? Yours is a full-time job. Now, if you’ve had enough snack food…”

      The phone rang just as she was gearing up to tell him what she really thought about his hunt for a woman.

      She picked it up and listened while her real friend, Margo, happily explained how she and Rick had reconciled. Tess carried the cordless as far from Cole as she could, short of barricading herself in the bathroom.

      “Sure, I understand,” she said into the phone. “I’m delighted for you, but I have someone here. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”