by Lori Foster
He wanted very badly to kiss her.
When Sara got close enough, he grinned and reached into the garage for the plastic rake leaning against the wall, then offered it to her with a flourish. It was a subtle reminder, giving Sara the chance to collect herself before she did something she might regret later.
To his surprise she smiled, but it was a smile with evil intent. “I love you, Gavin.”
For a long moment he couldn’t move. Hell, he could barely breathe. Sara looked so stern, so forbidding. Her arms were held stiff at her sides, the rake in one fist, her legs braced apart. She’d said it like a command, and he nodded. “It’s about damn time.”
She took a step back, stunned. “Then I don’t need the rake?”
“You don’t need the rake.”
She glanced at Karen who dared to peek over his shoulder. “You have about three seconds to make yourself scarce before I sic the animals on you.”
Karen screamed, causing Gavin’s ears to ring, and then she ran. Gavin started laughing and couldn’t stop. Ted hollered for someone to help.
He and Sara both ignored him.
After fidgeting a moment, Sara took a small step closer. “I’ve been afraid to tell you.”
“I know.” Overwhelmed by tenderness Gavin touched her cheek. “I would have waited awhile longer before getting insistent.”
“Insistent about what?”
“About hearing a declaration. About getting married.” He didn’t like his own feeling of insecurity, but he acknowledged it. “You will marry me, won’t you?”
“I’ll insist upon it.”
Gavin pulled her close and began kissing her. It was only the honking of horns that forced him to pull away. “Oh, hell.”
Sara followed his line of vision and then blinked in surprise. “Your family’s coming to visit again?”
“Sort of. You see, you mentioned to Mom that you needed lawn furniture. That’s probably what’s in the truck.”
Sara was stunned. “I can’t accept lawn furniture from her!”
“Trust me, honey. She likes giving things. The whole family does. Do you think you’ll mind being married to the spoiled, youngest child of the family?”
She gave him a slow, blinding smile that nearly melted his heart. “Are you kidding? I get you and lawn furniture? What more could any woman possibly want?”
Epilogue
THEY ANNOUNCED THEIR intent to marry an hour later over coffee and cookies. It hadn’t been easy to explain Ted, especially since he’d refused to come out of the tree. When he did come down, he had no way to leave; Karen had taken the car.
Gavin called for a cab, then explained to everyone that Ted preferred to wait on the curb—with Satan—until the cab arrived. Not a soul questioned that decision.
Sara had even more relatives to meet this time. It seemed his mother thought Gavin could use the extra support of the elders in the family, so there were two sets of grandparents tagging along. When the oldsters discovered Gavin had managed quite nicely on his own, they each claimed good genes as the deciding factor in his victory.
After Ted was finally picked up, the animals all wandered back to the house. Sara retold the story of how the pets had rallied together to come to her defense, and everyone was suitably impressed. Grandpa Blake showed a special fondness for the sweet-tempered Maggie. He claimed to have had a dog just like her in his youth.
Gavin’s grandmother on his mother’s side ended up with Tripod in her lap, throughout the entire visit praising the animal for her courage. And as Gavin watched them all interact, an idea came to mind.
“Does the retirement village allow you to have pets, Grandpa?”
“They do, and I know a lot of the folks in the village would love to have a good, dedicated dog. But most of them are on limited incomes and pets cost money.”
Sara picked up on Gavin’s train of thought immediately. “I have two friends who run a shelter. I bet they’d be willing to give the shots and checkups for free if the animals had a good place to stay. And Gavin and I could build a run of sorts right off the back door of each condo, so all the owner would have to do is hook the dog to a leash in the morning.”
Gavin nodded. “It could be done. The village is set up with only ground-floor condos. If Jess and Lou would agree…”
“I’m certain they would.” Sara looked so excited by the idea, Gavin knew she would be comfortable with the animals’ living arrangements. They could personally select which homes the dogs and cats would go to.
All the elders agreed to take a pet from the shelter. They even seemed anxious about the idea. Sara promised to go first thing the next day and see what animals were available.
Gavin bided his time until he could get Sara alone in the kitchen for a few minutes, and then he pulled her close. She snuggled into him with a sigh of pleasure. “Thank you for coming up with such a wonderful plan, Gavin. It makes me so happy to know that a lot of the animals won’t have to be alone anymore.”
He squeezed her a little tighter. “They remind you of how you’ve felt for much of your life.”
She nodded, then laid her cheek against his chest. “But at least I understand that now. And I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll try inviting my parents to the wedding.”
“Of course I don’t mind. Why don’t we drive over and see them together? We can ask in person. You said they didn’t live all that far away.”
“Not too far.” She stared up at him and sighed in wonder. “I really do love you, you know.”
And he did know. He’d known all along she could give him what no other woman could. Herself.
He was just about to kiss her when he heard the rushing steps of a small army of children. They squealed in delight as they raced past Gavin and Sara in the kitchen, Satan hot on their heels. And as the cat flew past in graceful, playful pursuit, he looked up, and Gavin could have sworn he was grinning.
Sara laughed. “Your mother’s right. He’s just like you.”
Gavin merely grinned.
CATHY YARDLEY
The Cinderella Solution
The Cinderella Solution
“I wanted you to see these viciously sexy outfits,” Charlie said.
“No,” Gabe said. Seeing her in plain white bra and matching panties was viciously sexy enough, thanks very much!
She laughed and ignored his protest.
When she had finished modeling her creations his heart was beating as if he’d run a marathon. Finally she slipped back into her jeans and shirt.
“So? What did you think?” she asked eagerly.
What did he think? He thought she’d shaved ten years off his life with that sensual torture! “I thought it was very…nice.”
“Nice?” She frowned at him. “I’m looking for devastatingly sexy. Come on, Gabe, work with me!”
“Fine,” he said, sighing deeply. “You were incredible. You would make a Buddhist monk pant like a dog. If God had made anything better he would have kept it for himself. Satisfied?”
She grinned. “Now, that’s what I wanted to hear.”
Dear Reader,
I love fairy tales, but my sense of humor won’t let me leave them alone. For example, what if Cinderella didn’t want to change? What if she decided to go to the ball just to get a pushy fairy godmother off her back?
Enter my Cinderella—tomboy Charlotte Taylor. On the one hand, she’s got two relentless “fairy godmothers” determined to get her married no matter what she wants. On the other, she’s got her best friend, Gabe Donofrio, who will do anything to make sure she stays “one of the guys”! Throw in a thousand-dollar bet, some makeover madness and an irresistible attraction between two best friends, and you get The Cinderella Solution.
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I loved writing it. Drop me a line at P.O. Box 1239, San Leandro, CA 94577, and let me know what you think.
To my family and friends for supporting my insanity.
And to my critique group: Alyssa Ganezar,
Ruth Barges, Rose Murray, John Lovelady and Christina Crooks. Thanks for believing in me.
1
“I’M GOING TO KILL HIM,” Charlotte muttered, hitting the accelerator on her car awkwardly in her satin high heels. “I’m going to get through this wedding without throwing up, and then I’m going to kill him.”
The tires squealed as she tore into St. Mary’s lot, cutting the curve just a little too close. She whimpered. Her morning-after headache punched at her brain like a prizefighter.
Of all the days to be hungover, this was the red-letter worst.
Her car screeched to a stop and she yanked up the emergency brake. She took a quick glance in the rearview mirror, grimacing at the pale greenish cast to her face. “I’m going to kill him,” she repeated.
She groaned as she wriggled out of her car, no small feat in her constricting pale-pink bridesmaid dress. She slammed the door shut, then gagged as the sound rang through her head. She rarely drank and had only experienced a hangover once before. She didn’t remember how bad that had been, but it couldn’t have been as bad as this. Nothing could be as bad as this.
“There you are, Charlie,” a male voice boomed from the front steps. “We’ve been waiting for you!”
She was wrong. There was something worse. “I am going to kill you,” she whispered.
Gabe Donofrio smiled mischievously at her from the top of the stairs. He looked handsome, as usual, she noted with disgust. That gorgeous summer tan he kept all year long held no tinge of post-party green. His gray eyes weren’t bloodshot, but lit with devilish humor. His dark hair and bright smile made him look as if he ought to be on the cover of a magazine. He looked as if he’d passed the previous evening curled up with a book and a glass of warm milk, when she knew perfectly well how he’d spent his night. He’d spent it making sure she’d be miserable this morning!
“Well, well, well.” Gabe eyed her curiously, meeting her halfway down the stairs but wisely staying out of arm’s reach. “Feeling a trifle ill this morning, are we?”
“Shut up. This is all your fault.” She gripped the cold steel banister as if it were a life preserver, while her stomach did a queasy little dance step. “What in the world possessed you to con me into crashing Brad’s bachelor party, anyway?”
“What were your options? If you’d stayed at my mom’s house with my sister the bride, and her sidekick, Dana, you’d have gone crazy. Now that Bella’s getting married, you’re the last one.” Gabe laughed. “You realize, of course, that now they’re not going to rest until you’re hitched.”
She wished he were lying. The headache exploded dully behind her eyes, and her stomach constricted. “So you thought, say, the best way to prepare Charlotte for the grilling she’s going to get tomorrow is…I know! Having her watch a half-naked exotic dancer freeze her butt off on a beach!”
“Actually, I just figured I’d pour ten tequila poppers down you, and at least cheer you up for a few hours,” he said with a grin. “Come on, Charlie. Nobody held a gun to your head and made you drink.”
“You bet me!” She poked a finger at him. “You bet me a month’s worth of car washes that I couldn’t keep up with you. In the name of female honor, I had to pop that inflated ego of yours.”
“Female honor? Oh, right, that’s it,” he said, laughing. “You’ve been this way since we were eight. You can’t turn down a wager with me to save your life.”
“Wanna bet?” She glanced over her shoulder at him, then stuck her tongue out.
“And, I might add—” his quicksilver eyes twinkled with amusement “—I’ve been beating you since you were eight.”
“Shut up.” She eyed him balefully. “Or I’ll throw up on your Armani suit.”
“And wouldn’t that go gorgeously with the decor,” he quipped, glancing into the church. “I think Bella’s got every gardenia in Southern California crammed in there. Honestly, I don’t know how someone as girly as my sister wound up with a nice, normal friend like you.”
Charlotte stepped into the small foyer of the church and stopped dead, assaulted by the overpowering floral scent. In her hungover state, the smell almost knocked her off of her feet.
“Oh, no.” She started taking quick, shallow breaths. “Oh, God.”
“Huh? Oh, nuts. Hold on, angel.” Gabe was at her side in a flash, the teasing look replaced with one of serious concern. He anchored her with one strong arm. “Take it easy, you’re going to be fine. They can wait a few more minutes,” he assured her, his voice low and comforting.
Charlotte fought the urge to sit down on the step and ride out her wave of nausea, knowing that if she sat down, she’d never get back up. “How does Bella look?” she asked, more to get her mind off her stomach than anything.
Gabe shrugged. “Like she was caught in a lace factory that exploded.”
Charlotte chuckled appreciatively. Slowly, the pounding in her head and the churning in her stomach receded. “If her dress is half as uncomfortable as this one, I pity her.”
“She’s getting married. I pity her already,” Gabe said, but his face still showed concern. “Feel better?”
“Not tremendously,” Charlotte said, sighing, “but it’ll have to do. My only goals for today are not throwing up on anyone, and avoiding the killer question.”
He snickered. “You mean,” he said, mimicking a nasal feminine whine, “‘So, when are you getting married, Charlotte?’”
“Exactly.” Charlotte tried to ignore the pang the question caused, even asked as a joke. It seemed as if she’d been facing questions like that forever.
When are you going to find a nice boy, Charlotte?
Why can’t you be more like the other girls, Charlotte?
How do you expect to catch a man looking like that, Charlotte?
She was single by choice, she reminded herself. She’d said the words so often, she ought to have them tattooed on her forehead.
“You know, you wouldn’t keep getting hit with these questions if you’d stop saying yes to being a bridesmaid. What is this? Three times?”
“Four,” she corrected him, pulling herself stiffly upright.
“Oh, right. After four tours of duty as a bridesmaid, you know my family is going to hassle you into becoming a bride yourself. Besides, I know you. You’re not exactly the type who swoons over china patterns and floral arrangements. Why not sit one out?”
“It’s Bella, Gabe,” she said crossly. “I probably should have turned down the earlier weddings, but Dana and your sister… I had to say yes. They’re like my family.” She lurched up to the foyer of the church. “Your family has actually been my family since Dad passed away.”
“I know,” Gabe said, subdued, then he chuckled. “I think I figured that out when my mother asked when you were going to give her a grandchild.”
Charlotte felt it again, that little pang, but it was different this time. It wasn’t just frustration, she noticed. It was suspiciously like envy. “The point is, I’d do anything for my friends, Gabe. You know that. The only reason I haven’t murdered you is the fact that you’re my best friend.” She smiled at him weakly. “But I swear, if you pull another stunt like last night’s bet, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Got it?”
“Of course, of course. I wouldn’t dream of it.” Gabe nodded solemnly, but a smile still haunted the corners of his lips.
When they stepped into the church, she saw ten pairs of eyes snap toward them eagerly. All of Gabe’s aunts homed in on her, calculating smiles on their faces.
“So I guess you won’t bet me a month’s worth of laundry that you can successfully avoid my aunts at the reception?” Gabe whispered gleefully. “Before you got here, I sort of suggested that you might be interested in their advice in the manhunting department.”
“Make it two months,” Charlotte said through gritted teeth, “and remind me to kill you when this is all over.”
“I’M LOOKING FOR CHARLOTTE,” Gabe yelled over the din of the speakers and the laughing, boist
erous couples on the dance floor. “She disappeared on me right after we took pictures. Have you seen her?”
“Nah, I haven’t,” his friend Sean replied, looking at the crowd of guys near him for a response. They all shook their heads. “If you see her, though, tell her we’re having a poker match tonight at Mike’s.”
Gabe nodded. “If anything would get her out of hiding, it’s a good game of poker. Thanks.”
He continued his slow tour of the large ballroom. He was so intent on tweaking Charlotte out of her gloom and giving her something to do at this reception other than focus on the “killer question,” that he’d forgotten he was the target of that same question himself…and not from his aunts. He’d been circling the reception hall for more than an hour, looking for Charlotte, while trying to avoid being singled out. Emphasis on “single.”
Ordinarily, he wouldn’t mind a room filled to the rafters with pretty single women. But this was a wedding, and that changed the rules. Suddenly, asking a woman to dance was tantamount to handing her a ring. It was a dedicated bachelor’s nightmare, Gabe reflected. If he had Charlotte by his side, at least he’d have a better chance at fending off the hungry stares and blatant invitations. It figured that the girl he was searching for was the one girl in this whole sea of single women who wasn’t looking for matrimony in general, or him in particular!
He sighed. She might say she was ready to kill him, but that wasn’t what was keeping her hidden. He sensed that there was more to Charlotte’s avoidance than just being frustrated with his family’s gentle pressuring, or their inability to accept her tomboy ways. It went deeper than that. Whatever it was, it tripped warning lights in his head. For all their pranks and high jinks, the bottom line was, she was his best friend on earth. If she avoided him for this long, she wasn’t angry, she was upset. And he was going to find out why if he had to drag it out of her…or bet it out of her.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and tensed.
“There you are, bro’.”
Gabe turned, grinning his relief. “Hey, Brad. So, how does it feel being married to my sister?”
