Wedding Party Collection: Once A Bridesmaid...: Here Comes the Bridesmaid / Falling for the Bridesmaid. GINA WILKINS
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eating here tonight,’ Sunshine said. ‘And, no, I am not turning into a stalker. I have a date. Iain.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘The hairdresser? The ex, who’s now just a friend?’
‘That’s right.’
‘As long as it is ex. Because while you and I are sleeping together—even if it is only four times—there isn’t going to be anyone else in the picture. Got it? I’m not into sharing.’ He heard the words come out of his mouth but couldn’t quite believe they had. Okay, so he’d changed his mind and sex was back on, apparently.
‘Well, of course!’ Sunshine said. ‘Actually, the main reason I asked him to come tonight was to check your head.’
‘Check my head?’ Leo repeated, not getting it.
‘To make sure it’s going to be long enough—not your head, because obviously that’s not growing any more, but your hair.’
‘He is not checking my head, Sunshine.’
That damned nose-wrinkle. ‘But I think—’
‘No,’ Leo said, and strode into the kitchen.
Where he burst out laughing and stopped half the staff in their tracks.
‘What?’ he asked.
But nobody was brave enough to answer.
* * *
Sunshine did not enjoy dinner.
Not that the food wasn’t great—because who couldn’t love a Wagyu beef burger with Stilton, and chilli salt fries on the side?
And Iain had brought sketches of the most fabulous hairstyle for the wedding. Finger waves pinned at the base of the neck and secured with a gorgeous hairclip. Her fringe would be swept aside—please let it be long enough—and similarly clipped above her ear.
But neither the food nor the sketches was enough to take her mind off that damned motorbike, and the fact that Leo, who was so sensible, didn’t seem to understand that it had to go.
So she fumed. And, because she’d always supposed she didn’t carry the fuming gene, the unwelcome evidence that she could get as wound up as a garden variety maniac bothered her.
They’d had sex. That didn’t mean she had a hold over him, of course, but it made him...well...someone more important than a casual acquaintance.
She became aware that Iain was sing-songing her name softly from across the table and snapped her attention back to where it should have been all night.
‘That’s better,’ he said.
‘Sorry, Iain. I haven’t been good company tonight.’
‘You’re always good company, Sunny.’
She smiled at him. ‘You’re too nice.’
‘Nice?’ He gave a short, almost bitter laugh. ‘Was that the limiter?’
‘What? No!’ She looked at him, dismayed. ‘The problem was—is always—that I just don’t want...that.’
‘Someone’s going to change your mind, Sunny—and all of us who have been forced to accept the limit are going to be mighty annoyed.’
All of us? Good Lord! ‘You make it sound like there’s a zombie camp of men out there, slavishly doing my bidding! And nobody is going to get annoyed—because I’m not changing my mind, ever. And I also happen to know you’re dating Louise, so— Oh!’
She stopped abruptly. Stared past Iain.
Because Natalie Clarke, accompanied by a pretty guy vaguely familiar as a model—Rob-something—was being seated at the next table.
Natalie was stunning. Gold skin, glorious copper hair, perfect rosebud mouth, pale grey eyes. She was super-slender, wearing a tight black leather skirt and a cropped black jacket. Black suede boots that made Sunshine green with envy.
Natalie shrugged out of her jacket to reveal a teensy white top; a black demi-bra was clearly visible underneath.
Iain’s eyes went straight to the mother lode!
Sunshine, swallowing a laugh, kicked Iain under the table. Bolt-ons, she mouthed at him.
So? He mouthed back, and the laugh erupted after all.
Natalie, venom in her grey eyes, looked sharply, suspiciously, over at Sunshine and Iain.
Oh. That was just nasty. Imagine if Natalie ever got wind of what she’d done with Leo last night! Crime scene for sure—blood spatter, flayed flesh, ooze, and poison, and possibly a meat cleaver in there as well!
Then Sunshine noticed the tattooed butterflies flitting down Natalie’s arms, and laughed again before she could stop herself.
Oops. Extra venom. And not much of a sense of humour, obviously.
Sunshine shifted her attention back to Iain and made a valiant effort to ignore Natalie—but it was impossible not to hear the overly loud one-way conversation from Natalie to Rob-the-model. All about Leo!
Blah-blah...so boring that Leo never, ever cooked for people outside his restaurants. Ha! Prosciutto fettuccine, anyone? Blah-blah...swank parties with Leo. Blah-blah...celebrities she and Leo had met. Blah-blah...she and Leo, part of the scene. And who said ‘the scene’ with a straight face? Blah-blah, blah-blah!
Natalie was pushing food around her plate as she talked; Rob was at least eating, but he was also smirking. Smirking—was that the most infuriating facial expression in the world?
The two of them would intermittently disappear to the bathroom, then come back talking too fast and too loud. When they disappeared for the fourth time Iain mimed coke-sniffing and Sunshine grimaced.
Natalie and Rob returned to the table and within moments were back on topic: Leo. And then, clear as a bell, ‘I’ll take Leo back when I’m ready—because, no matter what, he’s good in bed.’
Tittering laugh from Rob.
People at about six different tables were staring at Natalie, entranced.
Sunshine felt her blood pressure shoot up. If she wasn’t a pacifist she would want to slap Natalie for doing this to Leo—and in his own restaurant, dammit! Sunshine’s heart was racing, her brain fizzing. She felt light-headed. She was going to have to do something to stop this.
‘Really, really good,’ Natalie continued, taking in her audience, ‘which is kind of psycho, because he can’t even touch you unless he’s fu—’
Sunshine let out a loud, long peal of exaggerated laughter, drawing all eyes. She felt like a prize idiot, and Iain was obviously uncomfortable, but it was the only option she could immediately think of to shut Natalie up.
Sunshine was racking her brain for a way to proceed when Rob solved the dilemma by jumping to his feet and clutching at his neck.
Natalie stared ineffectually at her choking date.
Someone called out for a doctor.
The manager was racing to the kitchen.
Two diffident waiters approached the table, probably hoping someone would get there before them.
The diners—apparently not a doctor amongst them—seemed frozen. No movement. Just watching.
Sunshine got to her feet with a sinking heart. On the bright side, this dramatic development had shut Natalie up. On the not so bright side, Sunshine suspected she was about to star in the next scene. She hovered for a few seconds. Please someone else help...please. But—nope! Sunshine sighed. So be it.
Focusing her mind, Sunshine strode to the table. ‘Out of the way,’ she said, pushing past a still gaping Natalie.
Sunshine thumped Rob on the back. Nothing. Again. Once more.
Nope.