Abby Gaines - Her Best Friend's Wedding

Sadie stopped running. “As if I would sleep with some one I wasn’t even dating.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake.”

Her chest heaved. He couldn’t tell if it was emotion or exhaustion. Either way, it drew his attention to her figure, which, he admitted to himself for the tenth time since she’d arrived on Friday, was sensational from top to toe.

“You still like him,” Trey said, “even though he’s dating Meg.” He almost wished Daniel was here now, to see Sadie bright red, dripping perspiration.

“Of course I like him,” she said. “He’s intelligent, funny, charming, sensitive—”

He stuck a hand over her mouth, and whatever accolade she intended next came out a muffled “umph.”

“You like him too much,” he said calmly.

He felt a puff of breath against his palm. He dropped his hand.

“Meg’s with Daniel right now. I accept that,” she said.

“So you don’t plan to come between them?”

“Of course not.”

But he’d seen a flash of guilt in her eyes. “What are you planning?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“Stop ordering me around. I’m not your sister.”

“Tell me, please,” he said. “Put my mind at rest, so I don’t have to warn Meg to be on her guard.”

She paled, which at least reduced the redness of her face. Then she said, “If anyone’s going to get hurt, it’s Daniel. And you know it.”

“Meg seems as serious as he does.”

She blew out a breath that would have lifted her bangs if they hadn’t been plastered to her forehead. “History suggests that in a couple of weeks, Meg will have moved on.”

“Ah, I get it.” He adopted a high voice, in imitation of her. “I know you’re upset, Daniel, but I’m here for you.” Caught up in his role-playing, he grabbed her hand and looked deeply, soulfully, into her eyes. She had nice fingers, even when they were sweaty. Nice eyes, too. The light hue reminded him of blue delphiniums.

She wrested her hand away. “Don’t be such a jerk.”

“Daniel dumps you for Meg, and you’ll take him back when she’s done with him. Don’t you think that’s kind of pathetic?” he asked.

She stiffened. “Scarlett O’Hara spent her whole life pursuing a man who’d chosen someone else, and she’s one of the strongest women in literature.”

He snorted. “As in, she’s not real. And if you’re suggesting your crush on Daniel compares with some Southern belle fighting to save her ancestral home from marauders…”

“Now you’re being pathetic.” Sadie poked his chest, which was just about the most annoying thing she could have done. “Look, Trey, you might think it’s pathetic to want Daniel after Meg breaks up with him, but I’m not used to being handed whatever I want. I don’t get to go through life flirting and smiling and having people favor me for my good looks.”

“Meg is your friend,” he reminded her, even though she’d neatly summed up some of the most irritating things about his sister.

“And I adore her. As does everyone else. With the possible exception of you.”

Damn, how had Sadie picked up on that, when he’d barely seen her in years? “Don’t try and deflect attention from your scheming,” he said.

“Meg gets an easy ride in lots of ways, but she’s had tough times, too, so I’d never begrudge her.” She was talking about his dad and Logan, Trey realized. “But if I have a goal, I expect to struggle to achieve it. I’m willing to put the work in. To go after what I want single-mindedly.” She paused. “Aggressively.”

“You’re too late. Daniel chose Meg.”

Sadie toed a crack in the sidewalk with her sneaker. “Of course Daniel is attracted to Meg. I’ve never met a man who wasn’t. But I deal in facts and logic, and the fact is, he and Meg have nothing in common.”

“Opposites attract,” he retorted. “Which makes them the ideal couple.” He didn’t exactly believe that, but even when Sadie had been a teenager, there’d been no room for pussyfooting. You had to come down hard with your opinion and stick to it through whatever obscure logic that brain of hers devised.

“I think he’s confused,” she said thoughtfully, as if Daniel was a seed under a microscope. “He’s at an age where it’s natural to think about a long-term relationship. But a part of him is rebelling against commitment. Subconsciously he’s choosing someone unsuitable, guaranteed not to work out.”

This wasn’t logic—this was denial on a global scale.

“Sadie, I don’t think Daniel is rebelling against commitment.”

Something flashed across her face. Fear? “I believe most men do at some stage,” she said with a hint of uncertainty. “Look at you, a classic example. Over thirty, by most women’s standards a hot guy—” the crinkle in her forehead made it plain she found most women’s taste questionable “—and still playing the field like super jock, according to your sister.”

“I’m not afraid of commitment. I have way too much commitment in my life. And Daniel’s not afraid, either.” Aware of his muscles cooling off and starting to stiffen, Trey began jogging.

Sadie trotted at his side. “Trey, it doesn’t matter which of them realizes first how unsuited they are, I’m certain this thing will end soon.” Conviction grew in her voice. “It would be pointless for me to hold it against Daniel forever that he’d once liked Meg.”

The sentiment went against Trey’s deepest belief: being second choice was no choice at all.

“I believe he and Meg are serious,” he said.

They ran in silence for a minute or two. As they turned the corner onto Arlington, they passed the Jones place. Where once there had been two tons of dirt and a tangle of scrub, there was now a flowing garden that invited people to linger among its colors and scents. It was one of Kincaid Nurseries’ biggest success stories, but it had almost been a disaster. After demanding several redesigns, Mrs. Jones had fired Kincaid’s because the company’s landscape designer “didn’t get it.” When Trey visited her to discuss the problem, it turned out he and Mrs. Jones were on the same horticultural wavelength. Although he wasn’t a landscape designer—most of his time was spent on the management side of the business rather than on the plants—they’d reworked the design together. The client had been delighted with the result.

Sadie stopped running. She steadied herself with a hand to the trunk of a maple tree; Trey could see a tremor in her calf muscles.

“Meg loves parties and travel. Daniel is sensible and responsible and settled,” she said when she’d caught her breath.

For someone who was convinced she was right, she was working awfully hard to prove her point.

“They have less in common than—than you and I do,” she continued.

“If you really want a boyfriend, wouldn’t it be simpler if you found someone else?” he asked. “Come on, Sadie, there must be other—”

“I don’t just like Daniel,” she blurted. “I love him.”

SADIE CRINGED. Trey was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.

Then one side of his mouth rose and he said, “I love Daniel, too.”

She stumbled on her shoelace and would have sprawled headlong if Trey hadn’t caught her.

“What did you say?” she demanded.

“Seems you and I have more in common than you thought.”

“What did you mean?” Because clearly he’d intended to put her off balance.

“Daniel is exactly what my sister needs,” he said. “What’s not to love?”

She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ve had enough of your inane views. You can run a different way home.” She stepped off the curb.