Read Online Ready to Wed by Cindi Madsen - Free Book Online Page B

stretched across her lips, and I wasn’t sure she got that I was kidding. “You want to eat here tonight, or you picking up to go?”
    I’d been thinking here, but now that everyone was going to be asking about my failed wedding, I eyed the door, wanting an escape.
    Brendan put his hand on my elbow. “Wanna go to my place? Kick back and relax?”
    All our years apart, and he could still read my thoughts. “Sounds perfect.” Brendan and I ordered, and then we stood in the lobby to wait for our food. I glanced at him, and he gave me a tight smile, not the easy one he’d been flashing earlier.
    “I don’t want pity.” It came out harsher than I meant it to, but I needed to not have him looking at me like that. I’d gotten too much of it lately, and after the mention in the column that reeked of desperation, I couldn’t take any more. Especially not from the guy who’d made it all disappear for a few magical minutes. I wanted the careless vibe back.
    He held up his hands. “No pity. A girl who marries for lasagna obviously has her priorities straight. In fact, I’d call it admirable.”
    I clamped my mouth shut, fighting a smile. He thought he was too funny for his own good. I failed at not smiling, so I shoved him for good measure.
    “You’re as violent as I remember,” he said with a laugh.
    “And don’t you forget it.”
    He grinned at me, and I was again reminded of all our time together growing up. The football, baseball, and soccer games. Running through the desert and hiding under poky bushes to keep the nearby “cops” on four-wheelers from catching us. And it all started in second grade, the day he threw a stick at my head and I stormed over and punched him—I didn’t want to be the girl who got pushed around. I was already the new kid who moved in halfway through the year, not to mention I was dealing with my parents’ divorce. I wasn’t about to add wimp to the list.
    As Brendan had rubbed his jaw, he’d said he was sorry about the stick, claiming he didn’t realize I was a girl—which almost made me punch him again. In his defense, that was the year I’d had my hair cut super short—not sure what I was thinking, but let’s just say it was the opposite of flattering, although very little maintenance, which used to be my main concern.
    But after that day, Brendan and I started playing together, and I ended up being the only girl in a group of guys. The games changed over the years, but it was almost always something physical, with the occasional video game thrown in. The other guys were fine, but Brendan and I really clicked. On my ninth birthday, he even proposed with a Life Saver.
    “What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me as if he suspected I was up to no good.
    “I was just thinking about you and me as kids. It still trips me out to look at you and see the guy I knew, yet totally different.”
    “You look different, too.” His gaze ran down me, lingering on my red suede Mary Jane heels. “For one, I never expected you to be so girly.”
    “Sorry to disappoint.”
    He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I’m not disappointed. It’s just, well, you lived in jeans, baggy T-shirts, and jerseys. You could throw a curveball that’d make any guy jealous.”
    “Stop or you’ll make me blush,” I said, swiping a hand through the air, and got rewarded with a big grin.
    “And now here you are wearing a skirt and heels and planning weddings. How did that happen?”
    “It’s more of a control thing than the dresses, cakes, and fancy decorations, even though I’ve learned to love those things, too. During my last few years of high school, my girlie side kicked in and I found that I actually like getting dressed up. And that I could dress like a girl and still play sports—I was on the soccer team, since the football team seemed reluctant to have me. What with my dad being the coach, I probably could’ve pushed for it, but at that time, I wanted to have something separate