Read Online The Wedding Audition by Catherine Mann, Joanne Rock - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Catherine Mann, Joanne Rock
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anticipation. It was crazy and so unlike her normally practical self.
Bagel splayed out on the floor, his belly against the cool tile. The pup looked wiped. She huffed a chunk of over-processed hair off her brow and turned on a fan by the sink, then opened a window. Okay, tried to open a window. She pushed harder, harder still and then … whoosh . The window slid upward and a gust of wind swept in carrying the scent of apple blossoms.
Sagging back against the counter, she allowed herself a blessed moment to just breathe. How often did she stand still and simply – breathe without worrying about gasping for air? Well, other than in yoga class but that was filmed and broadcast so it didn’t count.
She angled the fan toward her and started to put away the few groceries Heath had given her. She turned over her feelings in her mind, trying to get a read on her emotions. Heath was handsome, in the rough-around-the-edges sort of way. But she could count on one hand the number of boyfriends she’d had in her entire life. It wasn’t in her nature to be attracted to a guy hours after breaking off an engagement.
As she put the cans of soup in the top cupboard, she forced herself to refocus on why she had driven to Beulah. To find out about the father she had never known, to discover a whole other side to herself. To get her life in order.
Heath certainly wasn’t going to provide her with any of those answers. But her grandmother could. She needed to glean all she could from Hazel Mae, needed to figure out who she was when the cameras weren’t rolling. There was no scripted role here. There was only the opportunity to find herself. And to do that, she needed her grandmother.
As she closed the cabinet and reached into her purse for a box of hair color, Annamae resolved to make tomorrow as productive as possible.
*
Wynn hooked an arm around a branch and hefted himself up higher to survey the land in front of him. He was restless. He didn’t like the idea of someone poking around his grounds. Not when he was so close to leaving this place. He’d submitted Annamae’s description of the man hanging around outside the fence to a contact back in Miami, wanting to cover all bases in case he’d been found. The upcoming trial still weighed heavy on his mind. And the added publicity of Annamae didn’t do anything to ease those worries. He hoped interest in her would die down and that they would both have well-deserved privacy.
He absently checked the blossoms on the branch around him. The white petals were perfect, fragrant and full. Maybe the crop wouldn’t be all bad. He could only hope.
The creak of door hinges from the carriage house snapped him into focus. His eyes automatically trailed to the source of the sound, the source of his midnight dreams.
Annamae.
And not the Annamae from before, the glammed-up girl with a scarf trailing in the wind. She was dressed in worn-looking jeans, cowgirl boots, and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head. Her hair wasn’t bleached blonde white any longer. Today, her caramel-colored hair caught the sun, a warm honey look that suited her more than the highlights he’d seen when he googled her online.
Strands had fallen out, framing her face, making her look softer. He could almost forget she was a celebrity. She looked casual, so down to earth, a far cry from the perfectly styled girl on television. The early morning sun glinted off of her sunglasses as she walked toward the orchard, more particularly, toward the very tree Wynn perched, watching her.
“Hey Red,” he called out, lowering himself down a limb. “Sleep well?”
She craned her neck until she spotted him. “Were you waiting up there for me?”
“Waiting for you? I’ve been killing leaf hoppers for almost two hours.” He chose a limb just over her head and took a seat, balancing his spray bottle to show her. Chasing bugs and beetles wasn’t as dangerous as chasing criminals,
Bagel splayed out on the floor, his belly against the cool tile. The pup looked wiped. She huffed a chunk of over-processed hair off her brow and turned on a fan by the sink, then opened a window. Okay, tried to open a window. She pushed harder, harder still and then … whoosh . The window slid upward and a gust of wind swept in carrying the scent of apple blossoms.
Sagging back against the counter, she allowed herself a blessed moment to just breathe. How often did she stand still and simply – breathe without worrying about gasping for air? Well, other than in yoga class but that was filmed and broadcast so it didn’t count.
She angled the fan toward her and started to put away the few groceries Heath had given her. She turned over her feelings in her mind, trying to get a read on her emotions. Heath was handsome, in the rough-around-the-edges sort of way. But she could count on one hand the number of boyfriends she’d had in her entire life. It wasn’t in her nature to be attracted to a guy hours after breaking off an engagement.
As she put the cans of soup in the top cupboard, she forced herself to refocus on why she had driven to Beulah. To find out about the father she had never known, to discover a whole other side to herself. To get her life in order.
Heath certainly wasn’t going to provide her with any of those answers. But her grandmother could. She needed to glean all she could from Hazel Mae, needed to figure out who she was when the cameras weren’t rolling. There was no scripted role here. There was only the opportunity to find herself. And to do that, she needed her grandmother.
As she closed the cabinet and reached into her purse for a box of hair color, Annamae resolved to make tomorrow as productive as possible.
*
Wynn hooked an arm around a branch and hefted himself up higher to survey the land in front of him. He was restless. He didn’t like the idea of someone poking around his grounds. Not when he was so close to leaving this place. He’d submitted Annamae’s description of the man hanging around outside the fence to a contact back in Miami, wanting to cover all bases in case he’d been found. The upcoming trial still weighed heavy on his mind. And the added publicity of Annamae didn’t do anything to ease those worries. He hoped interest in her would die down and that they would both have well-deserved privacy.
He absently checked the blossoms on the branch around him. The white petals were perfect, fragrant and full. Maybe the crop wouldn’t be all bad. He could only hope.
The creak of door hinges from the carriage house snapped him into focus. His eyes automatically trailed to the source of the sound, the source of his midnight dreams.
Annamae.
And not the Annamae from before, the glammed-up girl with a scarf trailing in the wind. She was dressed in worn-looking jeans, cowgirl boots, and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head. Her hair wasn’t bleached blonde white any longer. Today, her caramel-colored hair caught the sun, a warm honey look that suited her more than the highlights he’d seen when he googled her online.
Strands had fallen out, framing her face, making her look softer. He could almost forget she was a celebrity. She looked casual, so down to earth, a far cry from the perfectly styled girl on television. The early morning sun glinted off of her sunglasses as she walked toward the orchard, more particularly, toward the very tree Wynn perched, watching her.
“Hey Red,” he called out, lowering himself down a limb. “Sleep well?”
She craned her neck until she spotted him. “Were you waiting up there for me?”
“Waiting for you? I’ve been killing leaf hoppers for almost two hours.” He chose a limb just over her head and took a seat, balancing his spray bottle to show her. Chasing bugs and beetles wasn’t as dangerous as chasing criminals,
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