Saying Yes To The Dress!: The Wedding Planner's Big Day / Married for Their Miracle Baby / The Cowboy's Convenient Bride. Cara Colter
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showed. Throwing inhibition to the wind, she swiveled her hips and did some things with her hands.
“Guess who I am?” she purred.
He frowned at her. “A bride?”
The thing he liked least!
“No, I’m not a bride,” she snapped.
“A hula girl!”
“No.”
“I give up. Stop doing that.”
“I’m Mata Hari.”
“Who? I asked you to stop.”
“Why?”
“It’s a little too sexy for the job site.”
“A perfect imitation of Mata Hari, then,” she said with glee. And she did not stop doing it. She was rather enjoying the look on his face.
“Who?”
“She was a spy. And a dancer.”
He burst out laughing as if that was the most improbable thing he had ever heard. “How well versed was she in her Shakespeare?”
“She didn’t have to be.” Becky began to do a slow writhe with her hips. He didn’t seem to think it was funny anymore.
In fact, the ease they had been enjoying—that sense of being a team and working together—evaporated.
He stepped back from her, as if he thought she was going to try kissing him again. She blushed.
“I have so much to do,” she squeaked, suddenly feeling silly, and at the very same time, not silly at all.
“Me, too,” he said.
But neither of them moved.
“Uh, boss, is this a bad time?”
Mata Hari dropped her veil with a little shriek of embarrassment.
“The guys were thinking maybe we could have a break? It’s f—”
Drew stopped his worker with a look.
“It’s flipping hot out here. We thought maybe we could go swimming and start again when it’s not so hot out.”
“Great idea,” Drew said. “We all need cooling off, particularly Mata Hari here. You coming swimming, Becky?”
She knew she should say no. She had to say no. She didn’t even have a proper bathing suit. Instead she unraveled herself from the yards of fabric, called, “Race you,” ran down to the water and flung herself in completely clothed.
Drew’s crew crashed into the water around her, following her lead and just jumping in in shorts and T-shirts. They played a raucous game of tag in the water, and she was fully included, though she was very aware of Drew sending out a silent warning that no lines were to be crossed. And none were. It was like having five brothers.
And wouldn’t that be the safest thing? Wasn’t that what she and Drew had vowed they were going to do? Hadn’t they both agreed they were going to retreat into a platonic relationship after the crazy-making sensation of those shared kisses?
What had she been thinking, playing Mata Hari? What kind of craziness was it that she wanted him to not see her exactly as she was: not a spy and dancer who could coax secrets out of unsuspecting men, but a book-loving girl from a small town in America?
* * *
After that frolic in the water, the J brothers included her as one of them. Over the next few days, whenever they broke from work to go swimming, one of them came and pounded on her office door and invited her to come.
Today, Josh knocked on the door.
“Swim time,” he said.
“I just can’t. I have to tie bows on two hundred chairs. And find a cool place to store three thousand potted lavender plants. And—”
Without a word, Josh came in, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Stop it. This is my good dress!” She pounded on his back, but of course, with her laughing so hard, he did not take her seriously. She was carried, kicking and screaming and pounding on his back, to the water, where she was unceremoniously dumped in.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” Drew demanded, arriving at the water’s edge and fishing her out.
The fact that she was screaming with laughter had softened the protective look on his face.
Josh had lifted a big shoulder. “Boss, you said don’t take no for an answer.”
“No means no, boss,” she inserted, barely able to breathe she was laughing so hard.
Drew gave them both an exasperated look, and turned away. Then he turned back, picked her up, raced out into the surf and dumped her again!
She rose from the water sputtering, still holding on to his neck, both their bodies sleek with salt water, her good dress completely ruined.
Gazing into the mischief-filled face of Drew Jordan, Becky was not certain she had ever felt so completely happy.
AFTER THAT BECKY was “in.” She and the J’s and Drew became a family. They took their meals together and they played together. Becky soon discovered this crew worked hard, and they played harder.
At every break and after work, the football came out. Or the Frisbee. Both games were played with rough-and-tumble delight at the water’s edge. She wasn’t sure how they could have any energy left, but they did.
The first few times she played, the brothers howled hysterically at both her efforts to throw and catch balls and Frisbees. They good-naturedly nicknamed her Barnside.
“Barnside?” she protested. “That’s awful. I demand a new nickname. That is not flattering!”
“You have to earn a new nickname,” Jimmy informed her seriously.
“Time to go back to work,” Drew told them, after one coffee-break Frisbee session when poor Josh had to climb a palm tree to retrieve a Frisbee she’d thrown. He caught her arm as she turned to leave. “Not you.”
“What?” she said.
“Have you heard anything from Allie recently?” he asked.
“The last I heard from her was a few days ago, when she okayed potted lavender instead of tulips.” She scanned his face. “You still haven’t heard from Joe?”
He shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
But she could tell it was. “I’m sorry.”
He obviously did not want to talk about his distress over his brother. Becky was aware that she felt disappointed. He was okay with their relationship—with being “friends” on a very light level.
Did he not trust her with his deeper issues?
Apparently not. Drew said, “It’s time you learned how to throw a Frisbee. I consider it an essential life skill.”
“How could I have missed that?” she asked drily. As much as she wanted to talk to him about his brother, having fun with him was just too tempting. Besides, maybe the lighthearted friendship growing between them would develop some depth, and some trust on his part, if she just gave it time.
“I’m not sure how you could have missed this important life skill,” he said, “but it’s time to lose ‘Barnside.’ They are calling you that because you could not hit the side of a barn with a Frisbee at twenty feet.”
“At twenty feet? I could!”
“No,” Drew informed her with a sad shake