Wedding Party Collection: Once A Bridesmaid...: Here Comes the Bridesmaid / Falling for the Bridesmaid. GINA WILKINS
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she was about to put a new argument, so he held up a ‘stop’ hand.
‘I’ll see you Monday, Sunshine. And in the meantime try and remember that the marriage will have already happened. This is just a celebratory dinner.’
‘But—’
‘Monday.’
She made a muted explosive sound, redolent of frustration. ‘All right! Monday! But I’m staying here for dinner—not running away like a good little girl.’ She tossed her hair again. Flick. Over her shoulder. ‘I have a date.’
Leo kind of liked that huffy hair-flick—it made him feel as if she were the one off kilter for a change.
‘Then I’ll send over a Campari for you while you wait.’ Calm. Reasonable. Charming, even.
‘Lovely, thank you,’ she responded. Calm, reasonable, charming.
‘I won’t be able to come out and speak to Gary tonight, though.’
‘That’s okay—Gary’s not coming.’
Frown. ‘But I thought you said...?’
‘Oh, I see.’ Little laugh. Annoying little laugh. ‘No, tonight I’m having dinner with Ben.’
‘Another investment banker?’
‘No. Ben’s an embalmer.’
Leo did the stare thing again. ‘You’re joking, right?’
‘No.’ Puzzled. Actually, seriously puzzled. ‘Why would that be a joke?’
‘An embalmer? How did you even get to meet an embalmer? Are you making shoes for corpses?’
‘Not that I wouldn’t make shoes for corpses, but no.’ Pause. He saw the tiny swallow. ‘It—it was a subject I needed to—to research. Two years ago. For my...sister.’
‘I didn’t know you had a sister.’ He thought back...something about her eyes? In the womb... Triplets...?
Twins!
Oh. Embalmer. Sister. Her twin sister was dead. And he was such a freaking idiot!
Because—oh, God. no—the face-morph. It was happening again. Emptiness. Ashy skin. Trembling lips. What the hell was that?
‘Sunshine...?’
No response.
‘Sunshine!’
Alarmed.
She shook her head and the look was gone. But her eyes were filling and she was blinking, blinking, blinking, trying to stop the tears falling.
Crap! He reached over to the next table, snagged a napkin, held it out to her with a gruff, ‘Here.’
She took the napkin but just stared at it. Another blink.
He watched, holding his breath... Just one tear, one drop, and he would have to...to... No, he couldn’t...could he? Hovering, hovering... His heart was starting to pound...
And then she took a long, slow breath and the tears receded.
Leo took his own long, slow breath, feeling as though disaster had just been averted, and slid into the chair beside her.
‘Sorry,’ Sunshine said. ‘My sister died two years ago. The anniversary is coming up so I’m feeling kind of...emotional about it. I should be over it by now, but every now and then...’ That tiny head-shake, then she looked at Leo and smiled. ‘Anyway, let’s get back to—’
‘What was her name? Your sister?’ Leo asked, because he was not getting back to anything quite that easily.
Sunshine paused, but only for a few seconds—and her smile didn’t waver at all. ‘Are you ready for this, Leo? It’s not for the fainthearted.’
Leo didn’t know if he was ready, not ready, or why he had to be ready.
In fact he didn’t know squat.
He didn’t know why he hadn’t let her change the subject as she’d clearly wanted to do. Why her unwavering smile was bothering him. Why he wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she let those jammed-up tears fall.
He didn’t know a damned thing—least of all why he should be interested in Sunshine Smart’s dead sister.
But he said, ‘Worse than Sunshine?’
‘Ouch! But, yes—at least Moonbeam thought so.’
‘Moonbeam?’ He winced. ‘Seriously? I mean...seriously?’
Little gurgle of laughter. ‘Yep.’
‘Good God. Moonbeam. And Sunshine.’
She was playing with the hem on the napkin he’d given her, picking at it with her fingernails.
‘So what happened?’ Leo asked.
She looked down at the napkin. Pick, pick. ‘Hippie parents.’
‘No, I mean what hap—?’
‘Oh, dear, I’ve snagged the hem,’ Sunshine said, and put the napkin on the table. ‘Sorry, Leo.’
‘I don’t care about the napkin, Sunshine.’
‘Actually, table napkins have an interesting history. Did you know that they started out as lumps of dough, rolled and kneaded at the table? Which led, in turn, to using sliced bread to wipe your hands.’
What the hell? ‘Er—no, I didn’t know that.’ Thrown. Completely thrown.
Extra-bright smile. ‘But you were asking about Moonbeam. Actually, it’s because of her that I’m sitting here with you. She and Jonathan dated as teenagers.’
He was staring again—couldn’t help it. ‘No way!’
‘Yes way! But Moon realised pretty quickly that she’d need to swap an X for a Y chromosome if their relationship was going to get to the next level, even though Jon adored her. So—long story short—she encouraged Jon to leap out of the closet, with me hooked in for moral support, and the three of us became super-close—like a ménage à trois minus the sex. And voilà—here I am, planning Jon’s wedding to your brother.’ Her brilliant smile slipped. ‘One of the reasons I miss Jon so much is because he’s a link to my sister.’
Jon dating a girl. Ménage à trois minus the sex. Bread as table napkins? Leo didn’t know what to say.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I don’t have to explain that to you. I know you miss your brother too.’
‘It can’t compare.’
‘Yeah, I guess...I guess you can jump on a plane if you need to see Caleb.’
‘That’s more likely to happen in reverse.’
‘You mean him jumping on a plane? Oh, no, I see—him needing to see you.’ She looked him over. ‘I get that. You’re the dominant one, you’re the one doling out the goods, and you don’t need to see anyone.’
The perceptiveness startled him.
‘So no emotional combustions! It’s a good way to be,’ she went on. ‘In fact my approach to relationships is based on achieving a similar core of aloofness, of control. Of mastery over my emotions.’
He was a little awed. ‘Your approach to relationships?’
‘Yes. Separating sex from love, for example—you know, like that ménage à trois with me, Jon, and Moon. You have to agree that it makes life easier.’
‘Easier, maybe. Not better.’
‘Of course it’s easiest to leave the love out altogether. That’s what I do now.’
‘What? Why?’
She