Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance

by Kristen Proby

  “You may call yourself Debra now because you think it’ll help you sell more plastic containers for your Tupperware business, but it doesn’t mean the rest of us have to follow suit. For heaven’s sake, your birth certificate says Debbie Sue.”

  Debra’s face turned red, and she looked like she was about to have a heat stroke.

  “I wonder where Libby is with that lemonade,” Megan murmured, looking around. “Or where my mother is. Maybe I should go check.”

  Blair grabbed her arm as she started to walk away, her nails digging into Megan’s flesh. “Don’t you even think about it.”

  Megan laughed, but there was a nervous hitch to it.

  Barb shifted her attention toward Blair, and she resisted the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. “So you’re Blair.”

  “You know who I am?” she choked out. In the year she and Garrett had dated, she’d never met his mother. They’d talked about going to see Garrett’s family for Christmas, but they’d visited her mother instead. At Garrett’s insistence. He’d claimed it was because his mother and aunt were crazy, but after their breakup, she’d wondered if he’d maybe been ashamed of her.

  Megan gave her a concerned glance, and Barb looked at her like she was flat-out crazy. “Well, you are the bride.” She laughed. “Debbie Sue and I may have our differences, but I know about Neil’s fiancée.”

  “Oh,” she mumbled, the blood suddenly rushing from her head. She was totally losing it.

  “Blair, are you okay?” Megan whispered. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Barb seemed oblivious to her distress. Turned out the two sisters weren’t so different after all. “Debbie Sue says you’re a lawyer,” Barb said, glancing around the elaborately decorated yard. “My son Garrett is a lawyer too. What type of law do you do?”

  “You mean practice?” Megan asked, sounding uncharacteristically snippy.

  Barb waved her hand back and forth. “Whatever.”

  Blair’s chest felt like someone was tightening a clamp, a quarter turn at a time, until all the air was squeezed out of her chest. Should she admit that she’d dated Garrett? Pretend she’d only just met him? “I…divorce law…” She wasn’t sure she could spend the rest of the evening with Garrett’s mother.

  “Blair.” Megan sounded more insistent. “Let’s get you something to eat before the party gets started.”

  Blair shook her head. “Knickers’ll have a fit if we mess up her display.”

  “Let her.” Megan turned to the two sisters, who were currently shooting glares at each other that perfectly punctuated the sharply worded barbs they continued to volley. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to get the bride-to-be something to eat.”

  “Of course. We’ll get a chance to chat later,” Barb said, then glanced around the yard, already dismissing the two women. “Where’s Dena? Is she bringing her ill-behaved children with her?”

  Debra bristled at her sister’s remark. “Dena will be here soon. The real question is where is Kelsey? Too busy with her poor fatherless baby?”

  “And that’s our cue…” Megan looped her arm through Blair’s and tugged her toward the food table, casting another worried look in her direction. “When was the last time you ate something?”

  “I don’t know. Lunch, I guess, but I didn’t eat very much. Nerves.”

  Megan grabbed a pink paper plate and stacked it with a couple of quartered sandwiches and some raw vegetables. “What’s going on, Blair? This is totally unlike you. You’re never affected by nerves.”

  “I’m getting married,” Blair said. “I think I’m entitled.”

  Megan didn’t say anything as she handed over the plate.

  Even Blair knew she was acting like a bitch. “God, I’m sorry, Megs. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I’m taking it out on you.”

  “Now I’m really scared if you’re apologizing.” She grinned, but her eyes were full of worry.

  Blair took a bite of one of the sandwiches. “This is delicious.”

  Megan’s eyes narrowed. “Cut the crap, Blair. It’s not like you to change the subject. You always tell it like it is. What are you hiding?”

  The back door banged against the house, and Debra shouted a greeting from the middle of the deck. “Momma, you came! And Dena…you brought him with you?” Her voice trailed off.

  Great. The infamous Nana Ruby was here.

  And so were Dena’s kids.

  “I came across him as he was strolling up to the door,” Dena said, speaking in a tight drawl that conveyed her disgust.

  Dena was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the way she curled her upper lip when dealing with someone she didn’t like, which not so surprisingly included a great many people. Blair still had her back to the deck, but she was certain Dena’s lip had curled into her trademark sneer, and she was equally certain she knew who’d put it there. She wouldn’t turn around yet. If she kept her back turned, maybe everything would be okay.

  The high-pitched screaming of Dena’s children made Blair cringe. “Great. Dena did bring her wonder brats. They’re the most ill-behaved children I’ve ever met, but she thinks they’re absolutely perfect.”

  “Blair,” Megan reprimanded. “They’re children.” She eyed them running all around the deck like a set of wild banshees. “They’re bound to have some energy.”

  “Ha. We’ll see if you’re still saying that by the end of the evening. Ten dollars says one of them will end up in the pool.”

  “Only a fool would take that bet,” a familiar male voice said from behind her. “And I bet you’d push one of them in to make sure you won.”

  A chill ran down Blair’s spine. She clenched her fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms. Oh, how she wanted to take in the sight of him, but she knew it would be safer if she kept her back to him while she tried to resuscitate her dying self-control.

  Surprise filled Megan’s eyes as she stared at the man behind Blair. “I didn’t know my mother had invited any men to the party.”

  “Technically, she didn’t invite any men,” Blair said, wishing Libby would show up with her drink already. Hopefully it would be whiskey. “They just keep dropping in.”

  “Like that song about raining men.” He laughed, a rich warm sound that sent a fire racing through her blood. “That sounds like a single woman’s dream come true.”

  “No,” she said, slowly spinning to face him, glad her anger had kicked into gear. It made it easier for her to fight her reaction to him. “Change it to women, and it sounds like your dream come true. Player.” The word was jagged and sharp, like a weapon, but she needed the reminder.

  He looked even more gorgeous than he had this afternoon. He’d changed into a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, making her imagination run wild, and a blue button-down shirt. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a smattering of hair on his chest, and his long sleeves were rolled up, showing her that his forearms were just as built as they’d been when they dated.

  Her body was about to combust.

  “Blair,” Megan said, jolting her back to reality. “I take it you know him?” Of course Megan hadn’t met him. She’d run off to Seattle by then, running from her mother.

  So Libby hadn’t squealed. She’d love to run away and hide from this, but running had never been her style. “Megan McMillan. Meet Garrett Lowry. My ex-boyfriend.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The moment Garrett stepped onto the deck, his eyes instantly found Blair. Her back was to him, but he had no doubt it was her. He ignored the chaos his aunt and mother were creating while Nana watched with narrowed eyes. As far as he was concerned, he’d fulfilled his duty by escorting Nana to the party.

  Common sense told him that pursuing Blair at her own wedding shower was a bad idea, yet he was as drawn to her as a plant was to sunlight. She’d changed into a simple peach dress and a pair of white sandals, and her hair hung down her back in loose waves.


  The pretty brunette next to Blair watched him closely as he approached, probably wondering why there was a man at a wedding shower. Blair was talking about his cousin’s bratty children, so he decided to lead with a joke about her pushing one of Dena’s kids into the pool.

  Smooth, Garrett.

  Instead of stomping off, she introduced him to her friend Megan. The way she did it insinuated she didn’t want him there, but he noticed a couple of things, both in his favor. One, the way she moved a little bit closer when she turned to him, as if she felt as helplessly drawn to him as he did her, and two, her eyes had turned that enthralling shade of sky blue.

  But he was struggling to stay focused on the conversation. She was gorgeous in peach. It brought out the color in her pale skin and made her eyes even bluer.

  He could tell her friend—Megan—had already heard about him, not that he was surprised. Blair had told him plenty about her two best friends. “Garrett from law school?” the woman gasped.

  Blair’s lips pinched as she slightly stuck out her leg and crossed her arms. “The one and the same.”

  Megan lowered her voice to a hiss. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Stirring up shit. What he does best.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” Garrett said. Her words didn’t faze him—he knew that every second she continued to talk to him was a second in his favor. “I’m here because Nana insisted I bring her to the shower. You know me, Blair. The last thing I would choose to do with my night is play what’s in your purse with a bunch of women.”

  “The fact you know a shower game is a bit frightening.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a wealth of information.”

  A sardonic smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Looks like you’ve done your duty. I’m sure you’re free to leave.”

  He shook his head and gave her a smug grin. “No can do. Nana says she owns me for the night.” He scanned the food table. “Got anything to drink besides that pink punch on the table? Is it spiked? I think we’re all gonna need it if we’re going to endure a couple of hours with my mother and my aunt.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the argument still raging behind him. The hostess was probably regretting throwing this party right about now. Or at least inviting those two.

  “You still haven’t explained how he ended up here,” Megan said, addressing them both.

  Blair sighed, rolling her eyes. “It’s actually very convoluted.”

  “Oh!” a woman exclaimed from behind him. “I arrived just in time. I love convoluted stories.”

  Blair’s eyes narrowed, and if possible, she tensed up even more. “You already know the story, Libby.”

  The woman came to a stop at his side and handed Blair a red plastic cup. “I had to sneak that out of the house. The red clashes with Knickers’ party colors, and I’m pretty sure whiskey doesn’t fit in with the food theme.”

  “God bless you.” Blair snatched the cup and took a generous sip.

  And this was another sign in his favor. Blair had never needed a crutch to get through adversity—hell, she thrived on it—but now she was acting like she needed alcohol to get through the evening. Sure, Libby had left to get her a drink before he arrived, but he knew it wasn’t his argumentative and judgmental relatives who were affecting her.

  Blair only relied on alcohol when she was scared.

  His relatives wouldn’t scare her. Not Blair. He suspected she’d tolerated his aunt the evening before in an attempt at compromise. Something else scared her, and God help him, he hoped she was scared of what she felt when she was close to him.

  “I also gave Neil’s mother her lemonade. I know there’s a story there, which I’m dying to hear, but this one gets my attention first.” The black-haired beauty turned her dark chocolate eyes on him, looking him up and down like he was an amusing street corner act.

  He would have known this newcomer was Blair’s other best friend even if she hadn’t been identified by name. Blair had always told him that men were drawn to Libby’s exotic beauty and vivacious personality, so he kept his attention on Blair, smiling at her as though she were the only woman in the world. After all, as far as he was concerned, it was true.

  “Aunt Debra is a fundamentalist teetotaler, and I suspect last night was her first encounter with alcohol, even if she didn’t realize it,” he explained. “It will be interesting to see if she gets as loopy as she did last night.”

  “I still don’t know why you’re here.” Megan stared at him and planted her hands on her hips. “Somebody better start talking.”

  Blair gave him her iciest glare, but he grinned, undeterred. “I’m Neil’s cousin.”

  “What?” Megan gasped, then tilted her head as she turned her attention to Libby. “Why don’t you look just as surprised as I do?”

  Libby shrugged, looking like a kid with a big secret.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Blair groaned. “Now is not the time to get jealous of who knew what when. The important part is that Garrett has weaseled his way into our wedding and is now a groomsman.”

  Libby tapped her foot, wearing a smug expression. “He’s also claimed the ring on her hand.”

  “What?” Megan gasped loud enough to draw the attention of some of the newly arrived shower attendees.

  “I don’t have time to deal with this.” Blair took another healthy sip of her whiskey, then lowered the cup and shuddered, as though trying to lodge the practical, no-nonsense part of herself back into place. “It’s a family ring. Garrett has claimed it belongs to him. His grandmother is supposed to sort it out.” She took a deep breath and glanced down into her cup. “I suppose I’d better go meet her and break up the scuffle over who wore it best.” She started to hand her cup to Libby, then hesitated and took another gulp before relinquishing it. “Hide this.”

  “I’m going to exchange the waffle iron I got you for your wedding for a flask,” Libby teased.

  Blair started to walk away, then turned around and pointed her finger at Libby. “You better not have gotten me a waffle iron.”

  Libby burst out laughing as Blair swung back around and started across the patio. Garrett was about to take off in pursuit, but Libby blocked his path. “I don’t think so.”

  “Look,” Garrett said, lowering his voice, “I know you want to grill me, and I promise to answer any questions either of you throw at me—later.” He glanced over at Megan and nodded. “But right now I need to get over there and try to defuse a pending nuclear war.”

  Libby studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him. “Fine. But I get to read your palm later.”

  Megan snorted.

  “What?” He shook his head, sure he’d heard her wrong. “Sure. Whatever.” Garrett would have agreed to anything so long as she willingly let him go. If they were still her best friends—and the way they hovered around her assured him they were—he knew they had influence over her. He was desperate enough to recognize he needed all the help he could get. “Done.”

  Libby made a shooing motion toward him. “Go.”

  He hurried after Blair, ignoring the adversarial conversation between the two sisters. He reached her just as she stopped in front of his grandmother.

  “Nana,” he said, as she stuck out her hand to the elderly woman. “This is Blair Myers Hansen. Blair, this is Nana Ruby. The true instigator of all the trouble in this family.” He winked at the older woman. “She taught me everything I know.”

  Blair shot him an irritated glare before returning her attention to his nana, who cracked a grin.

  “So you’re the bride everyone is making such a fuss about.” She looked Blair over.

  Blair bristled, and her eyes turned frosty. “I need this wedding to go off without a hitch, so let’s get this ring issue sorted out as quickly as possible. And if we need to replace the ring before the ceremony, I’d prefer to know sooner rather than later.”

  Nana laughed, and Garrett was surprised to hear it was genuine. Blair gave
her a look of uncertainty.

  “You’re not what I expected,” Nana said once she’d settled down.

  “And what did you expect?”

  “Some hoity-toity, dainty woman who thinks the world revolves around her.”

  “Is that how Neil painted me?”

  Rather than answer, she gave Garrett an inscrutable glance. “I like you,” she said, turning back toward Blair. “Do you want the ring?”

  Blair blinked in surprise. “I…” She swallowed. “It’s Neil’s.”

  But not hers. Garrett was certain his grandmother had picked up on her peculiar wording too, because she studied Blair for several moments. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

  Blair groaned. “Why does this family have to be so difficult?”

  As if to punctuate her statement, the argument between Nana Ruby’s two daughters rose in pitch. Nicole Vandemeer, the woman who had greeted Garrett and Nana at the door, was standing between the women trying to get them to reach a truce. Her eyes were wild with frustration.

  Nana put two fingers in her mouth and released a loud whistle that filled the air and stopped everyone mid-word or mid-movement. “That’s enough nonsense, Debbie Sue and Barbara Mae,” Nana shouted. “I raised ya better than that. You’re guests here.” She waved to Nicole. “You get on with what you need to do, Mrs. Vandemeer.”

  “It’s Debra,” his aunt grumbled.

  Nicole smoothed back her hair and took a deep breath. “Oh, dear. Why doesn’t everyone help themselves to some refreshments, and then we’ll start the games.”

  Nana hobbled over to the food table, muttering about needing a Coors, and everyone else followed, leaving Blair alone with him on the deck.

  “Games?” Blair groaned under her breath. “Shit.”

  Garrett chuckled. “How bad could it be?”

  She gave him a baffled look, as if he’d just claimed to be a Martian. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

  “I told you, Nana Ruby made me come.”

  “So why don’t you go inside with the men?”

  “What men?” A shot of worry worked through his veins. Was Neil here after all?