Avril Tremayne - Here Comes the Bridesmaid

Although at least she wouldn’t be able to talk to him.

Still, she would annoy him just by being there. In her skintight pants...full breasts pressed into his back...breathing against the back of his neck...arms around him...hands sliding up under his leather jacket...

What? No. No! Why the hell would her hands need to be sliding up there?

‘Thanks, but, no,’ she said—and it took Leo a moment to realise she was talking about riding on the bike as opposed to sliding her hands under his jacket. Thanks, but, no. Sharp and cool—and not open for discussion, apparently.

And it...stung! Dammit.

‘Why not?’ he asked.

‘Because I don’t like motorbikes.’

Don’t like motorbikes! Well, good. Fine. Who cared if Sunshine Smart didn’t like motorbikes? Every other woman he dated couldn’t wait to hop on the back of his Ducati!

Not that he was dating Sunshine Smart. Argh. Horrible, horrible thought.

Just let it go. Let it go, Leo.

‘Why? Because you can’t wear ten-inch heels on one?’ That was letting it go, was it?

‘I don’t wear ten-inch heels anywhere—I’m not a stilt-walker. It’s not about shoes. Or clothes. Or even what those helmets do to your hair.’ She tossed said hair. ‘It’s just...’ She shrugged one shoulder, looking suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Just an antiquated little notion I have about staying alive.’

‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘You drive, I’ll ride, and we’ll meet there.’

And then she sort of slumped...without actually slumping. He had an absurd desire to reach over and touch her damned hair, and tell her...what? Tell her what?

That he would drive down the coast with her? Hell, no! Not happening. And he was not touching her hair. He didn’t touch anyone’s hair. Ever.

Leo all but leapt to his feet. ‘I’d better get into the kitchen.’

‘Right now? But—’ Sunshine checked her watch. ‘Oh. That took longer than I thought.’

She gave her head a tiny shake. Shaking off the non-slumping slump, he guessed, because the perk zoomed back, full-strength.

‘I have other samples in my bag—you know, pictures of floral arrangements and cakes. And I was going to talk to you about shoes. I’m arranging some custom-made shoes for you for the big day.’

‘Flowers can’t be that urgent. I have a superb baker on staff, so don’t get carried away on the cake. And I don’t need shoes.’

‘The shoes are a gift. From me. I’m doing them for Caleb and Jon too. And I promise it will not be an identical shoe gig—nothing like those ancient wedding parties with six groomsmen all wearing pale blue tuxes with dark blue lapel trim!’ Dramatic shudder. ‘Oh, please say yes, Leo.’

Leo looked down at his feet, at his well-worn brown leather shoes. Scuffed, but as comfortable as wearing a tub of softened butter. And he had other shoes. Good shoes. Italian shoes. He didn’t need more. He didn’t want her goddamned shoes.

But her hypnotically beautiful mismatched eyes were wide and pleading as he looked back up, and he found himself saying instead, ‘I’ll think about it.’

She smiled. ‘Thank you. There’s a ton of stuff still to talk about, but I understand you’re on a tight leash tonight, so you get going. And before we meet on Monday I’ll do some legwork on the flowers front. And music... No, I won’t do any legwork on that, because I know you used to go out with that gorgeous singer Natalie Clarke, and she would be perfect. I hope—’ She stopped, bit her lip. ‘Oh, dear, enough about the music. I’m sensing a teensy bit of animosity—that little tic next to your mouth gives it away, you know. But we still have clothes to talk about. Yours and mine, since we’re the closest thing they’ll have to an official wedding party. We don’t want to look too matchy-matchy, but there’s so much we can do to look part of the overall theme.’

Leo stared. He was doing a lot of that. ‘You mean there’s a theme?’

‘I’m not talking about those horrifying Elvis or Medieval or Viking themes. Or Halloween—it’s been done! I’ve seen pictures—with pumpkins! I mean just a touch of complementary colour, a certain style...things like that.’

‘You’re scaring me.’

‘I promise you’ll love—’

‘Really scaring me. Later, okay? Much later.’

Sunshine wrinkled up her nose—and Leo had now twigged that this meant she was about to put a new argument, so he held up a ‘stop’ hand.

‘I’ll see you Monday, Sunshine. And in the meantime try and remember that the marriage will have already happened. This is just a celebratory dinner.’

‘But—’

‘Monday.’

She made a muted explosive sound, redolent of frustration. ‘All right! Monday! But I’m staying here for dinner—not running away like a good little girl.’ She tossed her hair again. Flick. Over her shoulder. ‘I have a date.’

Leo kind of liked that huffy hair-flick—it made him feel as if she were the one off kilter for a change.

‘Then I’ll send over a Campari for you while you wait.’ Calm. Reasonable. Charming, even.

‘Lovely, thank you,’ she responded. Calm, reasonable, charming.

‘I won’t be able to come out and speak to Gary tonight, though.’

‘That’s okay—Gary’s not coming.’

Frown. ‘But I thought you said...?’

‘Oh, I see.’ Little laugh. Annoying little laugh. ‘No, tonight I’m having dinner with Ben.’

‘Another investment banker?’

‘No. Ben’s an embalmer.’

Leo did the stare thing again. ‘You’re joking, right?’

‘No.’ Puzzled. Actually, seriously puzzled. ‘Why would that be a joke?’

‘An embalmer? How did you even get to meet an embalmer? Are you making shoes for corpses?’

‘Not that I wouldn’t make shoes for corpses, but no.’ Pause. He saw the tiny swallow. ‘It—it was a subject I needed to—to research. Two years ago. For my...sister.’

‘I didn’t know you had a sister.’ He thought back...something about her eyes? In the womb... Triplets...?

Twins!

Oh. Embalmer. Sister. Her twin sister was dead. And he was such a freaking idiot!

Because—oh, God. no—the face-morph. It was happening again. Emptiness. Ashy skin. Trembling lips. What the hell was that?

‘Sunshine...?’

No response.

‘Sunshine!’

Alarmed.

She shook her head and the look was gone. But her eyes were filling and she was blinking, blinking, blinking, trying to stop the tears falling.

Crap! He reached over to the next table, snagged a napkin, held it out to her with a gruff, ‘Here.’

She took the napkin but just stared at it. Another blink.

He watched, holding his breath... Just one tear, one drop, and he would have to...to... No, he couldn’t...could he? Hovering, hovering... His heart was starting to pound...

And then she took a long, slow breath and the tears receded.

Leo took his own long, slow breath, feeling as though disaster had just been averted, and slid into the chair beside her.

‘Sorry,’ Sunshine said. ‘My sister died two years ago. The anniversary is coming up so I’m feeling kind of...emotional about it. I should be over it by now, but every now and then...’ That tiny head-shake, then she looked at Leo and smiled. ‘Anyway, let’s get back to—’

‘What was her name? Your sister?’ Leo asked, because he was not getting back to anything quite that easily.

Sunshine paused, but only for a few seconds—and her smile didn’t waver at all. ‘Are you ready for this, Leo? It’s not for the fainthearted.’

Leo didn’t know if he was ready, not ready, or why he had to be ready.

In fact he didn’t know squat.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t let her change the subject as she’d clearly wanted to do. Why her unwavering smile was bothering him. Why he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she let those jammed-up tears fall.