The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит
Читать онлайн книгу.Adrianna said, sounding panicked.
“Just getting a draw. The waitress looks swamped. Who knows how long it will take her to get to our table.” Tripp glanced at Ryan and Adrianna. “Can I get you anything?”
“Another apple martini?” Adrianna said with a smile that Tripp didn’t appear to notice.
“I’m okay,” Ryan said.
“I’ll be back,” Tripp said, but instead of turning in the direction of the bar, he headed across the room toward Betsy, who’d finally left Benedict’s side.
Ryan narrowed his gaze as Tripp approached her. Betsy’s tentative smile widened when Tripp pointed in the direction of him and Adrianna. She probably thought he sent the guy to her. As Ryan watched, Tripp crooked his arm. She slid hers through it and sauntered with him toward the bar.
“She doesn’t even know him,” Ryan said to no one in particular.
“Like I said, our little Betsy is coming into her own.” Adrianna laughed. “I knew it would happen.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Betsy hasn’t always been popular with men,” Adrianna said. “But lately guys are finally seeing what a great girl she is.”
“What guys?” Ryan demanded. Betsy hadn’t said one word about other men in her life.
Adrianna shoved her chair back, still managing to look graceful in the process. “I’m going to check out the ladies’ room. I’ll be back.”
Just like that Ryan found himself alone. No Adrianna. No Tripp. And most important, no Betsy.
* * *
Betsy found it easy to converse with Tripp. Perhaps because she didn’t care what he thought of her.
He looked different than she remembered, taller, more manly. While he didn’t make her heart beat even a little faster, with his thick blond hair, vivid blue eyes and strong features, he was an attractive man. Even the scruff on his chin looked good on him.
The tattered jeans and well-worn henley shirt weren’t much to speak of, but perhaps he’d fallen on hard times. She could certainly empathize.
“What brings you back to Jackson Hole?” she asked when they reached the bar.
“I’m out of one job and looking for another.” He motioned the bartender over and quickly gave his order. “I have a promising lead here, so I’m back for an interview.”
“I hope you get the position.” Betsy covered his hand that was resting on the bar with hers. “I know how it feels to be out of work and out of money. It’s no fun.”
He searched her eyes, then a tiny smile lifted the corners of his lips. “But you have a job now.”
“I do.” She glanced over her shoulder at Ryan, who was now sitting alone at the table, and waved. “I’m Ryan’s legal assistant.”
The bartender set down the drinks and Tripp pulled a twenty from his pocket.
“No.” She pushed his crumpled twenty back at him and took one of her own from her purse. She held it out to the portly bald-headed gentleman behind the bar, who watched the interchange with an amused smile. “My treat.”
The bartender took the money and turned away, already busy with another order.
Tripp tried to push the twenty-dollar bill into her hand, but she clenched her fist and shook her head.
“You might not get this job.” Betsy hated to be blunt, but Tripp had to be realistic. “I mean, I hope you do, but if you don’t, you’re going to need every penny to just survive.”
His gaze searched her face. His cool blue eyes softened. “Thank you. You’re very kind.”
“Once you land your job,” she said, “you can buy me a drink.”
“It’s a deal.” Tripp slanted a look back at the table. Adrianna had returned, and she and Ryan were talking. “He’s really obsessed with her.”
“Obsessed? What are you talking about?”
“Adrianna. Ryan told me a couple of weeks ago that she was ‘the one.’” His eyes darkened and Betsy couldn’t tell if Tripp was happy about that or not. Perhaps he wanted Adrianna for himself. Or maybe he agreed with her and didn’t think the two were a good match.
Betsy swallowed past the lump that had appeared without warning in her throat. “She’s as pretty on the inside as she is on the outside.”
“How do you feel about her and Harcourt hooking up?”
I hate it, Betsy wanted to cry out, because he’s mine.
But he wasn’t hers. Not yet anyway. “If Adrianna and Ryan become a couple, I’ll be happy for them.”
“Really?” He lifted a brow. “Something in the way you look at him made me think there might be more between you.”
“We’re friends,” Betsy said firmly, hoping to put an end to his fishing expedition.
“Good.”
“Why good?”
She felt him rest his hand lightly against her back as they made their way to the table.
“Because I like you, Betsy McGregor,” he said. “And when I land this new position, I’m going to call and ask you to celebrate with me.”
Betsy smiled, knowing he was only teasing. But she played along anyway. “Then I’ll keep my fingers crossed you get the job.”
Across the room, Ryan’s gaze settled on Betsy laughing with Tripp at the bar. A knife twisted in his gut. It had been a long time since he’d felt the sensation flowing through his veins, but he recognized it immediately. Jealousy.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t Adrianna engendering the response, but Betsy. Betsy. With her mile-a-minute mouth just made for kissing. With her snowball-throwing arm and fabulous cooking skills. With her kind heart and killer Monopoly instinct.
He’d watched Adrianna picking her way through the crowd. Seen the admiring glances sent her way. Until recently Ryan had been one of those guys. Even though she was a nice woman, he realized now that his attraction had been superficial, not deep. Certainly not the lasting kind.
When Betsy and Tripp returned to the table, he flashed an easy smile, settling his gaze on Betsy. “What kept you away so long, sweetheart?”
The endearment felt right on Ryan’s tongue.
Even in the dim light, he could see Betsy’s cheeks pink.
After staring curiously at Ryan, Tripp handed the drink to Adrianna with a flourish. “Your apple martini, ma’am.”
The smile that had been missing from the pretty brunette’s lips for most of the evening returned. “I’m not sure about the ma’am part, but thank you, Tripp.”
Ryan stood and gestured for Betsy to take his seat, then grabbed a chair from a nearby table and slid it next to hers. When she smiled her thanks, Ryan felt a surge of satisfaction. She hadn’t looked at Tripp once since she’d reached the table. Which made him wonder if Betsy liked Tripp as she’d said. No matter. When he got his friend alone, Ryan was going to have to make it clear that Betsy was off-limits.
Tripp would understand. A real friend never poached on another man’s woman.
“You’re up to something,” Betsy said in a low tone just loud enough for his ears. “I recognize that look in your eyes.”
“Ever thought of riding a bull?” Okay, so it wasn’t