Caroline Cross - The Notorious Groom

Which wouldn’t be such a big deal except he was no longer a kid, he was somebody’s father. And up until a week ago, he would have sworn he’d outgrown such immature behavior. Just as he would have sworn that he was an impeccable judge of women, capable of assessing their attributes—or lack thereof—at a glance.

Yeah? Well, it seemed he was wrong on both counts.

He muttered a curse that would have cost him a bundle if Chelsea had heard it.

All right. There was no getting around the fact that he’d behaved immaturely. He would learn to live with it. But as far as his judgment about women was concerned—now, that really hurt.

Still, he had to admit that for years, his playful threat to kiss Boo had been predicated on certain expectations. Like the notion that her skin would be dry and rough. That her mouth would be tight and prim, and her body bony and shapeless. And that at his first touch, she’d stiffen up like a starched sheet hung out in a hot wind.

Instead, what skin he’d felt had been petal smooth And her mouth, though untutored, had been soft, sweet and shyly eager. Even her scent had been a surprise—a faint, exotic blend of tropical flowers instead of the old-maid lavender fragrance he’d expected.

As for the rest of her—well, all it had taken was the touch of his tongue to her lips to make her melt against him like a punctured balloon. That alone had so surprised him, it had taken him longer than it should have to identify the source of the pressure suddenly nudging his chest.

Eventually it had dawned on him that it was her breasts. Her small, aroused breasts. At which point his mature, discerning, adult response had been to thrust her away at the same time he’d thought, Whoa. When had she grown those?

Eli flinched at the memory, then caught himself. Okay, so maybe he’d been a little less than smooth. That didn’t mean the encounter had been a total disaster. He needed to look at the bright side: he’d always wondered what Boo had hidden under those voluminous dresses.

Now he knew.

“Eee-liii. Come on! You’ve got to come see.”

Sighing, he climbed to his feet. “All right. Hold your horses. I’m on my way.” He shoved the boxes against the wall, then went out the door and down the hall, to where Chelsea stood, waiting impatiently.

The instant he was within reach, she grabbed his hand. “Finally.”

Amused, he let her pull him into her room, only to come to an abrupt halt as he looked around in amazement.

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