Clara’s sister-in-law Angela was taking puff pastries out of the oven and their mother-in-law Molly was putting out plates of squares and Christmas cookies. Jean had brought chocolate doughnut holes and Melissa was taking the cling wrap off a nacho dip. The one woman who didn’t quite fit in was Amy, who Taylor recognized as the young woman from the diner the night she’d had dinner with Rhys. The implication had been made that Amy wasn’t pretty and smart. But she looked friendly enough, though perhaps a little younger than the rest of the ladies.
She approached her casually and smiled. “Hi, I’m Taylor. You work for Melissa, right? I’ve seen you behind the counter at the shop.”
Amy gave her a grateful smile. “Yes, that’s right. And you’re Callum’s sister.” She looked down at Taylor’s shoes. “Those are Jimmy Choos, aren’t they?”
Taylor laughed at the unconcealed longing in Amy’s voice. “Ah, a kindred spirit. They are indeed.”
“I’d die for a pair of those. Not that there’s anywhere to buy them here. Or that I could afford them.”
Her response was a bit guileless perhaps but she hadn’t meant any malice, Taylor was sure of that. “I got them for a steal last time I was in Seattle,” she replied. She leaned forward. “I’m dying to know. Why is it that everyone else is over there and you’re over here staring at the Christmas tree? I mean, it’s a nice tree, but...” She let the thought hang.
Amy blushed. “Oh. Well. I’m sure it was a polite thing to include me in the invitation. I’m not particularly close with the Diamond women. I kind of, uh...”
She took a sip of punch, which hid her face a little. “I dated Sam for a while and when he broke it off I wasn’t as discreet as I might have been about it. I have a tendency to fly off the handle and think later.”
Taylor laughed. “You sound like my brother Jack. Callum was always the thinker in the family. Jack’s far more of a free spirit.”
“It was a long time ago,” Amy admitted. “It’s hard to change minds in a town this size, though.”
“You haven’t thought of moving?”
“All the time!” Amy’s blond curls bounced. “But my family is here. I didn’t go to college. Oh, I must sound pathetic,” she bemoaned, shaking her head.
“Not at all. You sound like someone who simply hasn’t found the right thing yet. Someday you will. The perfect thing to make you want to get up in the morning. Or the perfect person.” She winked at Amy.
“I’m afraid I’ve pretty much exhausted the local resources on that score,” Amy lamented. “Which doesn’t exactly make me popular among the women, either.”
“You just need an image makeover,” Taylor suggested. “Do you like what you’re doing now?”
She shrugged. “Working for Melissa has been the best job I’ve ever had. But it’s not exactly a challenge.”
Wow. Amy did sound a lot like Jack.
“We should meet up for coffee before I go back to Vancouver,” Taylor suggested. Despite the fact that Amy was included but not quite included, Taylor liked her. She just seemed young and without direction. Heck, Taylor had been there. What Amy needed was something to feel passionate about.
“I’d like that. Just stop into the shop. I’m there most days. It’s busy leading up to the holidays.”
The last of the guests arrived and things got underway. Taylor was glad the shower stayed on the sweeter rather than raunchier side. There was no paté in the shape of the male anatomy, no gag gifts or handcuffs or anything of the sort. They played a “Celebrity Husband” game where each guest put a name of a celebrity they had a crush on into a bowl and then they had to guess which star belonged to whom. The resulting laughter from names ranging from Kevin Costner who got Molly’s vote to Channing Tatum—Amy’s pick—broke the ice beautifully.
The laughter really picked up during Bridal Pictionary, which pitted Taylor against Angela as they attempted to draw “wedding night” without getting graphic. After they took a break to stuff themselves with snacks, they all returned to the living room for gifts.
Taylor sat back into the soft sofa cushions and examined the woman who was about to become her sister-in-law. Avery was so lovely—kind and gentle but with a backbone of steel. She was a fantastic mother to her niece, Nell, who was Callum’s biological daughter. Taylor couldn’t have handpicked a nicer woman to marry her brother. It gave her a warm feeling, but also an ache in her heart, too. That ache unsettled her a bit, until she reminded herself that she was simply very happy that Callum had found someone after all his troubles. A love like that didn’t come along every day.
Her thoughts strayed to Rhys for a moment. The man was a contradiction for sure. On one hand he was full of confidence and really quite bossy. And yet he was satisfied with taking orders from someone else and moving back to this small town with very few options. It didn’t make sense.
It also didn’t make sense that for a brief moment earlier in the week, she’d had the craziest urge to kiss him. The snow had been falling on his dark cap of hair and dusting the shoulders of his jacket. And he’d been watchful of her, too. There’d been something there, a spark, a tension of some sort. Until he’d turned to go and she’d gone up the walk and into the house.
She hadn’t seen him since. Not at the diner, not around town.
Avery opened a red box and a collective gasp went up from the group. “Oh, Molly. Oh, gosh.” Avery reached into the tissue paper and withdrew a gorgeous white satin-and-lace nightgown. “It’s stunning.”
“Every woman should have something beautiful for their wedding night,” Molly said. “I saw it and couldn’t resist.”
Taylor watched as Avery stood and held the long gown up to herself. The bodice was cut in a daring “V” and consisted of sheer lace while the satin skirt fell straight to the floor, a deep slit cut to the hip. It blended innocence with sexy brilliantly.
She took another sip of cocoa and let her mind carry her away for a few blissful seconds. What would it be like to wear that nightgown? She would feel the lace cups on her breasts, the slide of the satin on her thighs. She’d wear slippers with it, the kind of ridiculous frippery that consisted of heels and a puff of feathers at the toe. And Rhys’s dark eyes would light up as she came into the room, their depths filled with fire and hunger...
“Helloooo, earth to Taylor!”
She blinked and focused on the circle of women who were now staring at her. “Oh. Sorry.”
“I was just going to say thank you for the bath basket, but you were in another world.” Avery was smiling at her.
“You’re welcome! Goodness, sorry about that. Occupational hazard. Sometimes it’s hard to shut the old brain off.” She hoped her flippant words were believable. What would they say if they knew she’d been daydreaming about the only groomsman who wasn’t married or a relative?
“Right,” Amy said with a wide grin. “I know that look. You were thinking about a dude.”
Damn her for being astute. Who had said she wasn’t smart, anyway?
Melissa burst out laughing. “Were you? Come on, do tell. Do you have some guy hiding away in Vancouver?”
“No!” The word was out before she realized it would have been the most convenient way out of the situation.
Avery came to her rescue, though. “We’re just teasing. Seriously, thank you. It’s a lovely gift.”
She reached for the last present on the pile and removed the card. “Oh,” she said with delight. “It’s from Martha. I wonder if she’s going to part with her coconut cream pie recipe.” Everyone laughed. Martha Bullock never shared her pie recipes