“Let it go, Laura,” Isaac warned. “This is between her and me. Chloe made her choice.”
“But Lisa was counting on her. What if she’s counting on you? To save her?”
Isaac’s laugh held zero humor. “I’m done being her boyfriend when it’s convenient for her. I’m not picking up her pieces. That woman is not going to hurt me anymore.” Isaac excused himself, taking a shortcut across the dance floor and exiting into the hallway where the restrooms were located.
Feathers and bangles bounced as Laura fumed beside him, visually drilling holes through the archway where Isaac had disappeared.
Still clueless as to the source of the tension, but not liking how it affected his childhood friend, Conor sought some answers. “Everything okay? Do I need to have a man-to-man conversation with Mr. Royal?”
The set of her mouth was still tight even as she joked about his concern. “Just like you had a conversation with Scott Swearingen when I was in the eleventh grade?”
“A guy doesn’t tell a girl he can do better when she asks him to the prom.” Since no one had asked her, Laura had bravely taken the initiative and asked a boy to go with her. There were less cruel ways to say no than to belittle her for her not being the most popular girl in school. “I heard you crying up in the tree house that day. He was an immature jerk who hurt your feelings. What was I supposed to do?”
Laura nudged him out of the way of a row of line dancers sliding past them. “Maybe not go all big brother on his ass and embarrass me? You ambushed him in the parking lot after track practice, basically told him he was an idiot for not seeing the treasure behind my lack of boobs, straight As and wicked sense of humor.”
Conor had prided himself on not throwing a punch that day. “I called him worse than an idiot. And I never once mentioned your boobs.”
Although, mentioning them now, he found himself looking down at the shadowy cleft beneath the lace overlay on her gown—and just as quickly looking away the moment that most male part of him awoke with the knowledge that there was nothing teenagerish, tomboyish or lacking about Laura’s curvy shape now.
“Why do you think I was embarrassed? Do you think any other boy would say yes to me, knowing you were lurking next door, waiting to pounce on them, too, if they so much as looked crossways at me?” She raised her voice as the music crescendoed to its climax. “You should have at least offered to take me to the dance yourself. Now that would have been real chivalry.”
Conor dipped his head closer to hers to continue the conversation without shouting. Ignoring the subtly exotic scent that wafted off her hair and filled his nose, he reminded her of the facts. “I was home on spring break from college. The law frowns upon someone over twenty-one dating a high school kid. I couldn’t take you.”
“And I always thought that big, bad Conor Wildman was a rule-breaker. It was one of the tenets that my teenage adoration of you was based on.”
He grunted a laugh at the idea he’d been any teenage girl’s fantasy. “There are rules. And then there are laws. One of those, I don’t break.”
“Plus, there was that whole dating my big sister thing. That would have been awkward.”
Yep. There was that.
She inclined her head toward the line dancers shuffling their direction again. “I’m old enough to dance with you now.”
Had he imagined the hushed invitation in her voice just then?
He knew he hadn’t imagined that little gut-kick of interest stirring in the pit of his stomach at that surprisingly grown-up, completely feminine tone. Conor hoped she’d been unaware of just how provocative she had sounded.
She was putting him on, right? That had always been their routine—hug, laugh, listen, tease. He was the one who was screwed up, who’d been screwed over by life. There was no way Laura’s offer to dance was meant to sound like a proposition for something more. He’d been celibate and grieving, angry and heartbroken for too long to trust anything his flirt radar was trying to tell him. This was Laura. Same freckles. Same sass. Same smile—sans the braces. The comfort in that familiarity was what he needed to focus on. Not this whole weird awareness of the pretty bridesmaid he was experiencing tonight.
Conor remembered the easy banter between him and Laura. He didn’t remember any verbal innuendo or the voluptuous frame she’d poured into that candy-pink gown. And while it was a relief to find something normal about this long evening, he remembered he wasn’t the only person in this conversation. There were tactics to her rambling. “You changed the subject. What were you and Isaac arguing about?”
“I’m probably being paranoid.” Unlike Lisa, who fit snugly under Conor’s chin, the top of Laura’s head barely reached his shoulder. And that was in the heels she was wearing. Still, he had to admire that the differences in their heights didn’t deter her from tilting her chin to make direct eye contact with him as she spoke. “Isaac dates a good friend of mine, Chloe Wilson. Well, he used to. They’ve been on-again, off-again for a year or so. She lives in the apartment above me. I introduced them.”
“I take it, by the static I felt in the air between you two, that it’s off again?”
Laura nodded. “Chloe was invited to the wedding, too. In fact, she was supposed to help, but she never showed. I’ve called and texted, but she doesn’t answer. Isaac was ignoring me before the ceremony, but I finally caught up with him. He said they broke up for good this time—that she’s seeing someone else. Although, I hate to think about the guy she might have dumped Isaac for.”
“This new guy put up a red flag for you?”
Laura made a derisive sound that was more snort than laughter. “I wouldn’t call him reliable, that’s for sure. I’ve only met him a couple of times. He always has one or two other guys with him, like an entourage. I never spoke with any of them.”
“He’s a party guy?”
“If it’s his own party. He shows up when Chloe’s working. Makes her change plans when they don’t suit him. Maybe she didn’t come to the wedding out of respect for Isaac’s feelings. But she’d have called Lisa or me to let us know she wouldn’t be here. I’d bet money that Vinnie didn’t want her to come.”
“Vinnie’s the new guy?”
Nodding, Laura braced her hand on Conor’s arm and stretched up onto her toes, scanning through the crowd. Conor automatically followed suit, checking the diners and dancers, even though he didn’t know who he was looking for. “You don’t see a blonde about my size wearing ridiculously high heels, do you? I proudly accept that I’m never going to top five-three, but she overcompensates by wearing killer heels all the time. Even to run to the grocery store.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone like that tonight.” To be honest, he realized that he’d been so focused on his own inner demons that he hadn’t paid much attention to any women younger than his late mother, besides Lisa and her sisters. A quick scan of the dance floor and dining area now didn’t reveal any young blondes tottering around on scary heels.
When Laura pulled her hand away, Conor wondered at the imprint of heat that lingered on the skin beneath his jacket. What was wrong with him tonight? There wasn’t anything that felt right or normal about this long-overdue trip home except for Laura. And now he was blowing this reprieve because she’d gone and grown up on him, and he couldn’t get comfortable in his own damn skin around her.
“Chloe doesn’t always make the best choices,” Laura went on. “I worry. I mean, Isaac wasn’t exactly trippin’ her switch, but he was steady, nice.”
The fading red mark on Laura’s hand made him question what kind of temper Royal was hiding behind that geeky façade. But he’d go along with