Aubrey registered that they were in a sitting room attached to his parents’ bedroom. She wanted to turn and look at the sun setting over the garden through the back windows, but couldn’t tear her eyes from Liam. Dressed in a crisp black suit with a natty, striped tie, he was the sexiest best man she’d ever seen. His dark wavy hair was perfectly styled and, as usual, she had an almost irrepressible urge to mess it up.
She tensed as she forced herself to present a cool demeanor. “I introduced you to him at the church.”
“Yes, Stuart the Accountant. But why did you bring him in the first place?”
She cocked her head and gave him a sarcastic stare. “Was I supposed to wait for you to ask me? You don’t take me on dates, Liam. You never have.” The dinner he’d surprised her with at her house when he’d been home for the long Thanksgiving weekend didn’t count. Dates were public.
He frowned, and she was shocked when he didn’t fire a snappy comeback. “I might’ve, actually.”
Ha! She’d believe that when she saw it. “Too late. I told you at New Year’s that our little . . . thing was done.”
“It wasn’t a thing.”
“No, I think you’re right. It was a series of convenient hook-ups, and they are no longer convenient to me.”
She called them hook-ups, but they’d been more than that. Every time they were together, she’d felt as though they’d connected on some sort of intimate level that went beyond just sex. But that was stupid. While she’d come to know him at least a little bit, they hadn’t spent enough day-to-day time together to allow anything meaningful to spark. Except for Labor Day weekend. They’d spent the better part of four days in each other’s company, and it had been bliss. They’d laughed, they’d danced, they’d talked. And yes, they’d had a lot of sex. The physical aspect of their connection was so far the most powerful.
He prowled toward her, like a jungle cat on the hunt. She had no intention of being his prey. Nor did she want to run. She stiffened her spine and crossed her arms over her chest. Meager protection when she knew just how dangerous his weapons of mass seduction could be.
“Come on, they were a little more than hook-ups. We planned to hang out over Labor Day.”
That was true, but they’d both been going to the Dave Matthews Band concerts up in central Washington anyway. It wasn’t like they’d formulated and executed the trip together.
He stopped in front of her, his lips curving up. “And you have to admit it was pretty great.”
Incredible. Right up to the point when she’d suggested they see each other again soon. He’d said, “Sure, I always call you up when I’m in town.”
Like she was a convenience. And there was that word again. She didn’t want to be anyone’s hook-up girl. She’d quashed her burgeoning feelings, but it had maybe been too late. She’d already been crazy infatuated with him. So much so that when she’d seen him at Thanksgiving, she’d allowed herself to be the convenience she didn’t want to be.
But no more.
She gave him an arch look. “So it was a great weekend. You still can’t argue it was more than a hook-up. I walked away from that without knowing when—or if—I’d see you again.”
He frowned at her. “That’s absurd. You’re our attorney. Of course you’d see me again.”
Was he being purposely obnoxious?
He put his hands on his hips. “I suppose you’re going to tell me Thanksgiving was just a hook-up, too? I brought you dinner.”
After they’d flirted all day at a winery event they’d just happened to meet at. She’d accepted his sister Tori’s invitation to attend without realizing Liam would be there. Wait, had he known? “Did you know I would be at the winery that day?”
He arched a brow. “Who do you think suggested we invite you?”
Damn it. She didn’t want to know that. “Now you tell me,” she muttered.
He flashed her a grin. “Am I wearing you down?”
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from The Bride Wore Red Boots copyright © 2015 by Lizbeth Selvig.
Excerpt from Everything She Wanted copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Ryan.
Excerpt from When We Kiss copyright © 2016 by Darcy Burke.
THE BRIDE WORE STARLIGHT. Copyright © 2016 by Lizbeth Selvig. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
EPub Edition FEBRUARY 2016 ISBN: 9780062413963
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062413970
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