She sighed. “I’m sorry if it seems as if I’m only looking out for my best interests here. This probably wasn’t exactly what you envisioned, either, when we ordered that first round last night. But at least you don’t live in a small, judgmental town like Sugar Falls. You won’t be carrying around a nine-month reminder of this night or have smug busybodies shake their heads at you when you pass them on the street with your love child in tow. You get to hop on the first navy plane out of here and go on about your life.”
Drew knelt in front of her, his fingers cupping her chin, gently forcing her to meet his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Especially if you’re carrying my child. You don’t know me or the kind of person I am, so I’m not going to take offense at what you just said. But I’m telling you this now, completely sober and with every moral fiber in my body. We will be in this together, and any decisions that need to be made will be made by both of us.”
Kylie wasn’t sure if that was a threat or a vow. He seemed to have an abundance of moral fibers floating around in his perfectly formed body. Yet, behind the clear lenses, his eyes were very serious and solemn. For some reason, his words soothed her, and she no longer felt as though she was drowning alone. The fact remained, though, that she was still drowning. All she could hope was that this guy didn’t sink her in his quest to save himself first.
It must’ve been the lingering effects of the alcohol causing her palms to sweat and her tummy to swirl. Out of all the men she’d gone out with, not once had one’s nearness ever made her feel this light-headed.
Kylie needed some food to ease her roiling stomach, and they had only about ten minutes to get to brunch downstairs before their dual absence caused speculation.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s agree to get through today and this upcoming week back in Sugar Falls as if nothing has happened.” Hopefully, by then, she’d have some more answers—like whether she’d need to buy a pregnancy test and when he’d be on his way out of town and out of her life. “We won’t make any decisions until after the wedding. Their wedding, that is. Maxine and Cooper’s. Not yours and mine. Ugh. You know what I mean.”
Great. How was she ever going to get through this brunch if she couldn’t even get through a sentence?
“That sounds like a good plan.” He stood back up, his hand that had gently stroked her chin now extended in a handshake. She hadn’t noticed before but his right pinkie was slightly bent—an interesting flaw in an otherwise perfect specimen of man.
He had replaced an intimate gesture with a businesslike stance. So she rose from the chair in order to cover up the fact that she was leaning toward him like a lost kitten seeking out a friendly pat. Had she been wearing her usual four-inch heels, she would have come close to matching his impressive height. However, in her bare feet and oversize robe, she felt more delicate and womanly than she was used to when around average-size men.
Whoa, he was well built. As his hand shook hers, she smiled, thinking that under his preppy sweater and starched jeans was a rippling specimen of a man that only she was privy to. She liked knowing that.
He still hadn’t released her from his grip when two abrupt knocks sounded at the door. Drew turned to answer it and she grabbed his forearm and pulled him back. What was he thinking?
She put a finger to her mouth and shoved him toward the bathroom. A second passed before his brows lifted in surprise. He finally figured out that she wanted to hide him from whoever was knocking. The guy was obviously not schooled in the art of clandestine operations, which was probably a point in his favor. Just not at that exact moment.
She waited until the bathroom knob clicked before opening the hotel room door.
Her best friend’s former mother-in-law, Cessy Walker, and Freckles, the owner of the Cowgirl Up Café back home, brushed past her and into what Kylie was sure they would sense was her den of iniquity.
“Are we supposed to meet here for the brunch?” Cessy asked.
“Uh, no.” Kylie turned quickly, hoping the women wouldn’t notice the remains of last night’s debauchery that still littered the nightstand and floor. “We were supposed to meet downstairs at the buffet.”
Kylie’s frantic search zeroed in on the wedding photo and license she’d left on the chair, and she quickly sat on top of them.
“You’re not ready,” Cessy said, pointing out the obvious.
“No, I’m running a little late, Mrs. Walker. Why don’t you two ladies go on down and let everyone know that we’re... I mean, that I’m on my way.”
“Kylie.” Cessy tsked, looking around the room. “You’re one of the maids of honor. You’re supposed to be hosting the brunch. It’s in bad taste to show up late to your own event.”
Hopefully, Sugar Falls’s resident society matron wouldn’t find out what other forms of bad taste Kylie had recently been engaged in.
“Is your shower running?” asked Freckles—who looked older than Kylie’s grandmother, yet dressed as though she was a runner-up in a Dolly Parton lookalike contest.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just about to hop in when you guys knocked.”
“Well, we’ll just wait out here for you, then. Maybe it’ll speed you along.”
Kylie thought about the man inside her bathroom who, right this second, was probably lathering up his well-muscled body. She couldn’t go in there now or she’d see him in all his angelic glory. She would have blushed in mortification at her lustful thoughts for a stranger, but she was too busy flushing bright red at the realization that the two women looked like they were going to settle in and wait for her to do just that.
Before she could muster a protest, an undoubtedly manly shout sounded from the other side of the door. “Ow! Man, that’s slippery!”
Freckles’s face split into an ear-to-ear lipstick-covered grin. But her slightly younger and overcontrolling cohort looked confused.
“Who was that?” Cessy asked.
“That’s what I call the evidence of a good bachelorette party.” Freckles giggled, slapping her painted on jeans–clad thigh.
“Kylie Chatterson, I can’t believe you brought a man back to your hotel room—and of all times. You couldn’t go one weekend without one?” Cessy looked more exasperated than surprised, and Kylie’s pride stung at the implication that promiscuous behavior was expected from her. Normally she would’ve launched a full verbal attack against any petty remarks directed at her or her loved ones. But the truth of the situation and her growing shame wouldn’t allow her to defend her questionable honor.
“Stop being such a prude, Cessy,” the other woman said. If Kylie hadn’t been sitting across the room in the chair, refusing to budge for fear of revealing the condemning documents, the older waitress probably would’ve high-fived her.
Freckles was the liberal yin to Cessy’s conservative and proper yang. They were a mismatched set of friends, and right about now Kylie fought back tears at their intrusive assumptions. But at this second, she couldn’t argue with the evidence. So she bit her lip and tried to come up with a plan to get them out of her room.
“Well, you’d better not bring some one-night stand to my daughter-in-law’s prewedding brunch. Cooper’s friend, that sweetheart of a man who’s performing the wedding, is going to be there. His father is a minister, and Drew himself is a well-respected and high-ranking officer. The last thing we need is for him to think the bride’s best friend is hooking up with random men.”
The sharp insult was a stiletto to Kylie’s heart. She wanted to scream that the almighty, holier-than-thou Doctor Gregson was too busy being naked in her shower and recovering from a hangover of epic proportions to worry about anyone