Read Online The Sometime Bride by Ginny Baird - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ginny Baird
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I said, nothing’s too good for my Carrie. She wants a certain type of man, she’s going to get it…”
Carrie held her breath and watched Paulette’s eyes widened.
“I mean, why not?” Mike asked. “You women do it all the time, reinvent yourselves for your men. Breast augmentation—”
Paulette went positively white and glanced down at her own flat chest.
“Come on, Wilson,” Carrie said, nudging him soundly with her elbow. “Time you talked to a few more of our guests…”
“And not,” she whispered sternly in his ear, when they’d left the mortified Paulette behind them, “about breast implants.” In spite of her admonition, Carrie found herself fighting the urge to giggle. From the time she’d been fourteen, Carrie’s first cousin Paulette had made it her personal goal to steal every man in Carrie’s life right out from under her. Well, not this time, Carrie thought, glowing brightly as the man on her arm looked down into her eyes with a naughty grin.
“She deserved it,” he whispered back. “Not only did she suspect the truth, she was coming on to me besides.”
Carrie looked back over her shoulder at Paulette, who was downing a fast cup from the punch bowl, then broke into a chuckle. “Oh Mike,” she said, patting his arm. “You’re absolutely right. Busybody Paulette got just what she deserved. But do you think she’ll tell?”
Mike looked straight over the top of Carrie’s head. “I think she’s leaving. Hope she wasn’t your maid of honor or anything important like that.”
Carrie spun around to see the back-porch door swinging shut at Paulette’s back. “Holy cow!” Carrie exclaimed, stretching up on her toes and giving Mike’s cheek a firm peck. “How on earth did you do that? I’ve been trying to get Paulette to keep her nose completely out of my business for nearly twenty years and never even came close to succeeding until now.”
Mike’s cheek tingled where Carrie’s warm lips left their mark, reminding him ever-so-pleasantly of the type of fiancé he was expected to be. Touchy-feely. Amen, Mike thought, winding his arm around Carrie’s shoulders like a prayer. She was truly radiant today. Looking very bride-like in her white linen dress, its clean lines unintentionally outlining every curve. Even its scooped neckline, which professed its innocence by camouflaging itself with a hint of lace, looked positively villainous in its enviable position right next to Carrie’s bosom.
“What? What is it?” Carrie asked, bringing a hand to shield her briefest hint of cleavage. “There something wrong with my dress?”
Mike gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze and planted a light nibble on her tantalizing neck. “Nope, nothing at all. I was just thinking about how great you look in white.”
Carrie slapped a palm into the side of Mike’s head. “Behave yourself! Grandma Russell’s coming!”
“Just playing the part,” Mike said, drawing her into an affectionate hug and kissing her lightly at her temple. “Of the loving fiancé.”
Carrie blinked as her world went cold and hot. Hot and cold. No, wait! Her palms were sweating, but her belly was a pit of ice.
“Carrie, darling!” An elderly lady with more salt than pepper in her short curly hair scuttled over and wrapped frail arms around the two of them.
“Wilson,” she proclaimed, beaming up at Mike and whacking him soundly on the shoulder. “I do declare, you are a hunk!”
Somewhere in the heat of the moment, Carrie found her tongue. Which was, dammit, stuck to the roof of her mouth.
“Grandmother!” Mike exclaimed, lifting the 110-pound woman into the air with his bear-hug embrace. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
Well, now, Carrie thought, Mike was carrying things a little far. Paulette was one thing, but…
Mike set Grandma Russell down as she reached up and pinched his cheek. “He is a doll, Carrie! An absolute doll! Just somehow I never pictured him as a blond. You should have
Carrie held her breath and watched Paulette’s eyes widened.
“I mean, why not?” Mike asked. “You women do it all the time, reinvent yourselves for your men. Breast augmentation—”
Paulette went positively white and glanced down at her own flat chest.
“Come on, Wilson,” Carrie said, nudging him soundly with her elbow. “Time you talked to a few more of our guests…”
“And not,” she whispered sternly in his ear, when they’d left the mortified Paulette behind them, “about breast implants.” In spite of her admonition, Carrie found herself fighting the urge to giggle. From the time she’d been fourteen, Carrie’s first cousin Paulette had made it her personal goal to steal every man in Carrie’s life right out from under her. Well, not this time, Carrie thought, glowing brightly as the man on her arm looked down into her eyes with a naughty grin.
“She deserved it,” he whispered back. “Not only did she suspect the truth, she was coming on to me besides.”
Carrie looked back over her shoulder at Paulette, who was downing a fast cup from the punch bowl, then broke into a chuckle. “Oh Mike,” she said, patting his arm. “You’re absolutely right. Busybody Paulette got just what she deserved. But do you think she’ll tell?”
Mike looked straight over the top of Carrie’s head. “I think she’s leaving. Hope she wasn’t your maid of honor or anything important like that.”
Carrie spun around to see the back-porch door swinging shut at Paulette’s back. “Holy cow!” Carrie exclaimed, stretching up on her toes and giving Mike’s cheek a firm peck. “How on earth did you do that? I’ve been trying to get Paulette to keep her nose completely out of my business for nearly twenty years and never even came close to succeeding until now.”
Mike’s cheek tingled where Carrie’s warm lips left their mark, reminding him ever-so-pleasantly of the type of fiancé he was expected to be. Touchy-feely. Amen, Mike thought, winding his arm around Carrie’s shoulders like a prayer. She was truly radiant today. Looking very bride-like in her white linen dress, its clean lines unintentionally outlining every curve. Even its scooped neckline, which professed its innocence by camouflaging itself with a hint of lace, looked positively villainous in its enviable position right next to Carrie’s bosom.
“What? What is it?” Carrie asked, bringing a hand to shield her briefest hint of cleavage. “There something wrong with my dress?”
Mike gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze and planted a light nibble on her tantalizing neck. “Nope, nothing at all. I was just thinking about how great you look in white.”
Carrie slapped a palm into the side of Mike’s head. “Behave yourself! Grandma Russell’s coming!”
“Just playing the part,” Mike said, drawing her into an affectionate hug and kissing her lightly at her temple. “Of the loving fiancé.”
Carrie blinked as her world went cold and hot. Hot and cold. No, wait! Her palms were sweating, but her belly was a pit of ice.
“Carrie, darling!” An elderly lady with more salt than pepper in her short curly hair scuttled over and wrapped frail arms around the two of them.
“Wilson,” she proclaimed, beaming up at Mike and whacking him soundly on the shoulder. “I do declare, you are a hunk!”
Somewhere in the heat of the moment, Carrie found her tongue. Which was, dammit, stuck to the roof of her mouth.
“Grandmother!” Mike exclaimed, lifting the 110-pound woman into the air with his bear-hug embrace. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
Well, now, Carrie thought, Mike was carrying things a little far. Paulette was one thing, but…
Mike set Grandma Russell down as she reached up and pinched his cheek. “He is a doll, Carrie! An absolute doll! Just somehow I never pictured him as a blond. You should have
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