Susanna Carr - The Bridesmaid's Best Man

Every bachelorette party has a surprise...

Angie Lawson is in Bridesmaid Hell—if Hell was a strip club filled with screaming women in stilettos. But her night’s about to get a whole lot worse. Now her ex-boyfriend is standing right in front of her—every sexy, delicious inch of him—and Cole Foster isn’t the kind of guy that any woman can just ignore....

Cole’s working undercover, but he certainly wasn’t expecting the intimate reminder of the wicked heat that he and Angie always shared. But when the maid of honor—silver stilettos and all—is knocked unconscious, Cole realizes he needs Angie’s help to get into the bridal party. And if getting there means getting her in bed, too, then he’s definitely the best man for the job!

“Now is the time to sell this relationship…”

Angie gave Cole a wary look. “What do you have in mind?”

“Something like this.” He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his.

Cole knew he was playing with fire. He was only going to graze her lips. But he found that he couldn’t pull away. He needed another kiss and then another. He traced her full, soft lips with the tip of his tongue.

Angie opened her mouth and drew him in. Triumph swept through him. He cupped her jaw with both hands and tilted her head. She kissed him as if she couldn’t get enough of him. Excitement pulsed through Cole as she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer.

Cole wrenched away from Angie. Damn it, he thought, as he gulped in air. He forgot. He forgot where they were and why they were kissing.

Most of all, he forgot that kissing Angie was like sharing a piece of his soul…

Dear Reader,

My twin sister once told me that getting back with your ex is a lot like jump-starting your diet. After a few days you remember why it didn’t work the first time. No matter how many stories you’ve heard about disastrous reunions, it’s a tantalizing idea to have another chance with the one that got away. How would you act if you got a do-over?

Angie gets the opportunity in The Bridesmaid’s Best Man. She’s not over Cole and now she must pretend that they have rekindled their red-hot romance. This fake reunion is starting to feel a little too real and Angie discovers that their fling is even wilder the second time around.

Thanks for reading Angie and Cole’s story. Don’t forget to visit my website, susannacarr.com, for news, excerpts, contests and more.

Enjoy!

Susanna Carr

The Bridesmaid’s

Best Man

Susanna Carr

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SUSANNA CARRlives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. When she isn’t writing, Susanna enjoys reading romance and connecting with readers online. Visit her website, susannacarr.com.

To Kathryn Lye, with thanks

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Excerpt

1

THE DANCE MUSIC pulsed through the floor and the lights flashed across the shadowy room. As the bare-chested men danced for the screaming women, Angie Lawson glanced at her cell phone to check the time. How much longer was she required to be at this bachelorette party?

She jumped when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Angie whirled around and saw the bride-to-be behind her. Brittany was dressed to attract attention from her fire-engine-red bandage dress to the rhinestone tiara and veil perched on top of her long, coppery hair.

“Angie, you are supposed to be having fun.” Brittany’s whine seemed to pierce through the music. Her hands were on her hips and she tapped her foot impatiently. “You’re my bridesmaid. It’s practically required!”

Angie stared at her and then looked at the women standing on the table and chairs as they screamed for the well-endowed Tiger to take it all off. She returned her attention to Brittany. “This is what you notice?”

“And what are you wearing?” She gestured to Angie and gave a look of disgust. “It’s a bachelorette party.”

“There are half-naked men everywhere,” she reminded the bride-to-be. “I didn’t realize there would be a dress code.”

“Absolutely, it is my party.” Brittany flattened her manicured hand to her chest. “I am a personal shopper for an exclusive clientele and they’re here.”

Exclusive? Angie wanted to snort at the word. She had worked with some of the most accomplished and talented women in the Seattle area. The women here at Brittany’s invitation were sloppy drunk and out of control. She was pretty sure one of them had tried to bite a stripper.

“Not only do I have to look good,” Brittany said, “but so do my bridesmaids.”

Angie glanced down at her clothes. She wore a glittery black tank, dark skinny jeans and—with great reluctance but her mother had insisted—strappy heels. There was nothing strange or offensive about her outfit.

She scanned the room, taking note of the other women in the upscale strip club that had been reserved for Brittany’s bachelorette party. The guests were not like the flannel-shirt, thick-framed-eyeglasses and designer-boots crowd she knew. They weren’t even the yoga-pants and organic-coffee group from the suburbs. The women wore flirty dresses and skintight miniskirts. The outfits were wild and sexy.

Oh. Those were two words that wouldn’t describe her. Ever. Angie sighed and fought the urge to hunch her shoulders. Once again, she had dressed all wrong. She thought what she had worn was sophisticated and trendy enough that she would blend in. Instead she looked like a dark giant among the sugarplum fairies.

“I mean, really, Angie.” She tossed her hands up with frustration. “What’s wrong with showing a little cleavage?”

Now Brittany was really beginning to sound just like her mother. “Nothing.” Angie shrugged. And it was a good thing she felt that way, since she was going to flash the whole world when she wore her bridesmaid dress. It was tight, shiny and barely covered the essentials.

“I give up. Just try to look like you’re enjoying yourself,” Brittany said as she marched off.

Angie froze at those parting words. She had made a valiant effort to get into a party mood but she was bored. And that was cause for worry. Actually, she hadn’t been interested in any man since Cole walked out of her life. That was months ago and yet, watching these gorgeous men had left her cold. Why couldn’t she enjoy watching a man dance? It didn’t make sense. She was young and healthy. What was wrong with her?

“Don’t listen to Britt.”

Angie peered down and saw Brittany’s assistant at her side. Cheryl, a petite and curvy blonde who usually wore jeans and animal-print tops, was dressed in a leopard-print tube dress and skyscraper heels.

“She gives unsolicited fashion advice all the time,” Cheryl said with a weary smile. “She doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t bother me,” Angie assured Cheryl, but the woman was already trailing her boss.

And it didn’t bother her that much. She heard the complaint so many times that it had become white noise. Boyfriends had always wanted her to wear revealing clothes and well-intentioned friends kept trying to give her a makeover. No matter how much they insisted, she wouldn’t give in. She knew she would never meet their expectations. What would be the point of trying?

She had learned to resist this type of help from a young age. Her mother used to make her go on shopping expeditions that felt more like death marches. Despite her mother’s perseverance to create a girly look for Angie, it never stuck. Angie preferred the hand-me-downs from her brothers rather than the ruffled dresses and makeup.