Allison Leigh - The Bff Bride

His eyebrows drew together. “You’re my best friend,” he complained. “We’re supposed to help each other out.”

Now it was her turn to snort. “Good thing your best friend isn’t a boy, then. And I’m still not kissing you!”

“One day you’re gonna wanna kiss me,” he warned.

Annoyed at the absurdity, she shoved her hand against his chest and pushed him away far enough that she could jump off the swing. Even though his daddy was the tallest person Tabby had ever met, for now, she and Justin were exactly the same height. She looked him straight in the face. “Try it and I’ll punch you in the nose,” she warned. “I’d sooner kiss a toad than you.”

His skinny chest puffed out. “Lotsa toads down at the swimmin’ hole, Tabbers.”

She puffed out her own chest. It was just as skinny as his. And as flat. Which was fine with her, since boys seemed to have more fun than girls did. At least all the ones she knew around Weaver, anyway. Who wanted to be all prissy and perfect when there were baseball games to play and cow chips to throw and worms to be threaded onto fish hooks? Summer was short enough in Weaver without spending half your time playing indoors with dolls and dress-up. And Justin’s granddaddy had the best swimming hole around, out on his Double-C Ranch. She and Justin, along with his cousin Caleb, spent half their summer vacation out there. “I can make you kiss a toad just as easy, Justin Clay, and you know it.” She scuffed her bare toes through the sand. The sun was hot as Hades, and now that he’d brought up the topic of swimming, that’s all she wanted to do. “I dunno why y’all are so gaga over Sierra, anyway,” she groused. The other girl was a year ahead of them in school and the biggest snot around.

“’Cause she’s got boobs,” he said, as if the answer were obvious. “And Joey Rasmussen says his cousin won’t kiss no boy who ain’t already kissed someone.”

“So? Since when’re you interested in kissing girls?”

“Erik’s already kissed three girls!”

She rolled her eyes. “Who cares if your brother’s kissing girls?”

“I do. So now I gotta kiss someone, and I ain’t gonna kiss Caleb!”

She leaned over, pretending to gag. “That’s just gross.”

“That’s just ’cause you don’t got any boobs.”

She rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder hard enough to tip him over in the sand.

He laughed, squinting up at her in the sunlight as he stuck out his suntanned hand. “Help me up.”

Sighing mightily, she grabbed his hand and yanked.

He sprang easily to his own bare feet and pecked his thin lips against hers before she had a chance to evade him.

Then he danced around her, cackling like a madman, waving his arms over his head in victory. “Told you!”

She made a face. “You are disgusting.”

He laughed even harder. “You’re just mad ’cause I got my way.”

“And it was disgusting, too. Still don’t know why you gotta keep up with your big brother. I don’t gotta keep up with mine.”

His smile didn’t die, but he stopped his victory dance and dropped his arm over her shoulders, like the best buddies they were. “Come on.” He started walking away from the swings. “Let’s find Caleb and go out to the swimming hole to catch some toads.”

She shrugged. Because she did want to go swimming. “Sure. But first—” She hesitated when they left the sand for the closely shorn green grass covering the rest of the playground.

He hesitated, too, his eyebrows lifting again over his weird bluish-purple eyes. “What?”

She smiled.

Balled her fist.

And punched him in the nose.

Chapter One Contents Cover Introduction He just wanted things the way they’d been. When they’d been as comfortable and familiar as a pair of old, beloved boots. He dropped his hand and looked at Tabby from the corner of his eye. “If I let you punch me in the nose, would you finally get over your anger?” She stabbed her fork into her pie, seeming to focus fiercely on it. “We’re not five.” “We were nine.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I remember it vividly, since you managed to break it.” “I never intended to break your nose,” she muttered. “I know.” He waited a beat. “We survived that. So can’t we survive another kiss, even one—I hate to admit—as badly executed as the last one was?” It had been a helluva lot more than a kiss, but he didn’t figure she wanted to get into that territory any more than he did. “It doesn’t matter. It was years ago.” He leaned over the arm of his chair toward her. His gaze caught on the wedge of creamy skin showing between the unbuttoned edges of her shirt. Stupid, because there wasn’t anything like that between him and Tabby. Except that one time they were both trying not to think about. About the Author A frequent name on bestseller lists, ALLISON LEIGH ’s high point as a writer is hearing from readers that they laughed, cried or lost sleep while reading her books. She credits her family with great patience for the time she’s parked at her computer, and for blessing her with the kind of love she wants her readers to share with the characters living in the pages of her books. Contact her at www.allisonleigh.com . Title Page The BFF Bride Allison Leigh www.millsandboon.co.uk Dedication For my daughters and the fine young men who love them. Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Epilogue Extract Copyright

“Hey there, Tabby! Happy Thanksgiving.” Hope Clay reached for the covered dish in Tabby’s gloved hands. “Every year we keep telling you all you need to bring is yourself,” she chided with a smile.

“And every year, you know I’m going to bring something to share,” Tabby countered easily as she followed the older woman out of the cold November air into the warm, soaring foyer. This year, the rotating Thanksgiving feast was being held at Hope and Tristan Clay’s home. The smells of Thanksgiving dinner filled the air, along with the sounds of music and laughter as Tabby pushed the heavy wooden door closed behind her. “I can’t take credit for the casserole, though. That’s Bubba’s doing.” Robert “Bubba” Bumble was the cook down at Ruby’s Café, which Tabby managed for Hope’s two sons, who owned the place.

“How is Bubba?” Hope asked over her shoulder as she turned left and sailed into the dining room, where an enormous table was set with white china and sparkling glasses. Next to it—jutting out into the wide hallway—was a slightly smaller portable table set with disposable plates and cups.

The kids’ table, Tabby knew, though the kids generally ranged from her generation down to any child old enough to hold her own spoon. “Bubba’s fine,” she said wryly. “He’s been cooking once a week for Vivian Templeton when her usual chef has the day off.”

Hope glanced toward the great room across the wide hallway, as if she were afraid Tabby’s words might be overheard. She even put a finger in front of her lips in a silent shush, and her “that’s nice” was barely audible.

Tabby had spent as much of her childhood roaming around Hope and Tristan Clay’s home as she had around her own. She raised her eyebrows pointedly but lowered her own voice to a whisper while she pulled off her gloves and her coat. “What’d I say?”

“That subject is still a little...sore...with some,” Hope replied.

Tabby started to glance toward the great room but managed to stop herself. She’d have to encounter Justin sooner or later. And later was better. “Squire?” she mouthed, more to keep her mind off Hope’s youngest son than anything.