Abby Gaines - Her Best Friend's Wedding

“And when the bee carries the pollen from one plant to another,” she concluded triumphantly as Trey listened, “that’s when you get pretty flowers.”

One of her nieces, about five years old—he couldn’t remember her name—put up her hand.

“Do you have a question about vegetative reproduction, Caitlyn?” Sadie asked, pleased. “I admit, I did skip a few steps, honey.”

“What kind of flowers do princesses like best?” Caitlyn asked.

Sadie blinked. “Princesses…uh, princesses aren’t my area of expertise, honey.”

Trey felt his shoulders relax. That was more like the Sadie he knew. She’d never been one of the girlie-girls, which was doubtless why that radiant smile she’d bestowed on him when she arrived yesterday had spooked him. The Sadie he knew was down-to-earth, calm, aloof. Wallpaper.

Meg called to her. As Sadie handed the baby to Merrilee and went to join his sister and Daniel, Trey was too aware of her figure in her white capris and yellow tank.

It felt as if someone had redecorated.

He flipped a hot dog and it burst out of its skin, startling him. Trey took a step back from the spitting fat. So Sadie Beecham had grown some curves that he’d only just got around to noticing. Big deal. Trey was over Cordova women, just as he was over everything else about his life here.

“Trey?” Meg called. “Can you come here?”

“Kyle, how about I leave these hot dogs with you?” Trey asked Sadie’s brother. After a ceremonial fist bump and handover of the tongs—barbecues were a major ritual around here—he took his beer and joined the others.

“Save me from these two, please.” Meg waved at Daniel and Sadie. “They’re trying to baffle me with science and it’s depressingly easy.”

Daniel ran a finger across her shoulder. “Sweetheart, we’re just warming up.” He winked at Sadie.

Meg groaned.

“We’re talking about whether Sadie’s work with new wheat strains for the developing world could help diabetes-prone kids here in the U.S.A.,” Daniel explained to Trey.

“I’ve heard wheat can cause diabetes in some people,” Trey said. He’d read something about it in New Scientist.

Sadie squinted at him, as if she’d had no idea he spoke Science. “That’s type 1 diabetes,” she said dismissively. She turned to Daniel. “In theory, if you raised the protein level, thus lowering the glycemic index, wheat-based foods would pose a lower risk to type 2 diabetes patients.”

“Which would make life much easier for low-income families who can’t afford a low-wheat diet,” Daniel said.

He and Sadie grinned at each other.

Then Sadie reached behind her to lift her hair off her neck, a cooling-down gesture that lifted her breasts. Daniel lowered his gaze to her cleavage. And left it there a second longer than reflex dictated.

What the—? Trey accepted the other man’s dropped gaze was an instinctive response to Sadie’s movement, but the guy shouldn’t linger, not when he was dating Trey’s sister.

Trey stepped in front of Sadie to block Daniel’s view.

“Can’t we talk about books?” Meg asked. “English was my best subject. I wiped science from my brain after I dropped it in tenth grade.” She held up a hand. “When I say books, I don’t mean that Russian stuff you two read.”

“I’m enjoying that book of yours,” Daniel told Meg. “The Politics of Poverty. Brilliant.”

“Hey, that’s mine.” Sadie edged around Trey to get back in the conversation. “I lent it to Meg.”

“Oops.” Meg faked a guilty look, and Daniel laughed.

“You should read it. You’d enjoy it, Meg.” Unconsciously Sadie fingered a lock of her hair. It had been mousy-brown when she was younger, Trey remembered. Today it had gleaming gold highlights.

As if he was mirroring her, Daniel stroked Meg’s dark hair.

Immediately Sadie’s hand dropped to her stomach, as if she felt nauseated. Her eyes on Daniel were wide and unhappy.

Trey’s sister-protection sensors went on high alert. He tried to shut them off—Meg’s expectation that other people would fix her problems irritated him like nothing else—but old habits died hard.

Sadie likes Daniel. That was why she’d been sneaking around his mom’s place last night.

It couldn’t be true…could it?

As Meg leaned into Daniel and they began a murmured conversation of what sounded like mutual, breathless compliments, Sadie blinked suspiciously fast.

Dammit!

Trey leaned into her. “Get a grip,” he muttered.

She started, which at least pulled her attention off the doc. “Excuse me?”

His hand closed around her elbow; he turned her so she couldn’t see Meg. “Quit looking as if you’re about to commit suttee on the grill because my sister’s boyfriend touched her.”

She tugged, but he didn’t release her. “That’s ridiculous,” she hissed.

“Exactly. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Meg asked.

They froze. Sadie turned beet-red to the roots of her hair.

“Sadie’s telling me about her exciting life as a future Nobel laureate,” Trey said. Meg’s gaze traveled to the hold he had on her friend’s elbow, so he let go. “You must have some interesting colleagues at that lab of yours, Sadie.”

“Uh…” she said.

“Intelligent guys on a decent income,” he clarified. “Have you dated anyone there?” As in, go find your own man. Leave Meg’s alone.

“You’re being weird, Trey,” Meg said.

“Are those your criteria, Sadie?” Daniel teased. “I didn’t know you were looking.”

Sadie’s brother Jesse approached, bearing a bowl of chips. “No ordinary guy will do for Sadie,” he said, butting in to the conversation. “He’ll need to be a genius, the noble do-gooder type, willing to treat her with the awe she’s used to.”

Sadie took a couple of chips with one hand and punched Jesse’s shoulder with the other. “Shut up.”

“Those are some high standards, Sadiebug.” Daniel took a handful of chips but his gaze remained on Sadie. His expression held fondness and…was that regret? And what was with the Sadiebug?

“She deserves the best,” Meg said loyally. “Whereas I definitely don’t need a genius—my guy has to be dumb enough to love me despite my flaws.” She grinned. “A platinum AmEx would come in handy, too.”

Daniel laughed. “Sorry, sweetheart, I may be the boss at the clinic, but I’ll never earn millions. The best you can hope for is that I’ll be able to support you in the manner to which you’re accustomed.”

Support Meg? That sounded serious.

Meg and Daniel were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to notice the strangled sound from Sadie. As Trey watched, her face turned red.

To think he’d grown up next door to her and had never known she was a psycho.

Grasping her arm again, he swung her away from the group. “Breathe,” he ordered in her ear.

Sadie stared at him, mouth open, eyes glazing over.

“If you don’t breathe, I’ll sit you down and shove your head between your knees until everyone knows what a nutcase you are.”

She dragged in a great gulp of air, wheezing like an asthmatic.

“Now out,” Trey ordered.

She let the air out again.

“Am I going to have to instruct you through every breath for the entire weekend?” he demanded.

“I— No.” She coughed.

“Are you okay, Sadie?” Meg asked.

They’d attracted the attention of the entire company. Sadie closed her eyes, as if people wouldn’t be able to see her if she couldn’t see them. It was an oddly defenseless reaction.

“She was choking on a chip,” Trey explained, bailing her out. “All clear now, Sadie?”