him, settling his doubts—and hers, he’d thought. “You’re such a nice man, Joshua Towers.”
He settled alone on the backseat of the limo, the one usually reserved for the groom and the bride. Why was it that nice guys always finished last?
As the limo pulled away from the church, Molly’s kid brother, Rory, asked, “So no one’s going to uncork the champagne?”
A disapproving breath hissed out of one of the passengers, and Colleen elbowed her younger brother, who shoved her back. Yet it was Brenna Kelly who landed flat on her butt on the floor, knocked off the end of the long seat she’d shared with Rory, Colleen and Nick. She laughed first, and then everyone else joined in. A chuckle even slipped from Josh’s lips.
“What a day…” he mused as he reached down to help her up. When his hand closed around hers, his laughter died as heat tingled in his palm and then shot up his arm.
“It’s not over yet,” she warned him, her husky voice soft. Her skin was soft, too, but her grip was strong. She rose from the floor, but before she could settle back onto her seat, he tugged her down beside him. He dragged in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the leather interior mixed with the fragrance from the single lily nestled in her shiny red hair.
Mentally, he kicked himself. His engagement not even officially broken, he had no business being attracted to the maid of honor. Hell, maybe he wasn’t such a nice guy after all.
Chapter Two
Brenna stifled a gasp as her hip settled against Josh’s hard thigh. He still held her hand, their fingers entwined, until Brenna pulled free. She tried to ease away, but the seat shifted beneath her weight and Josh slid closer. Heat rushed to her face. She couldn’t weigh more than he did, not with his height and muscle. Not that she cared—she had long ago made peace with her weight. She would never be model-thin, as Colleen was, or a little pixie, as Abby and Molly were.
She owned a bakery, and she damned well wasn’t going to deprive herself of sweets. Or anything else. She should be happy that the reception hadn’t been cancelled. She would have a wonderful meal and a huge slice of the chocolate cake with buttercream frosting that her dad had made for Molly. But Brenna wasn’t happy. Because Molly wasn’t here. She should be sitting next to Dr. Towers, not Brenna. And yet Brenna was relieved that Molly wasn’t in the limo. She was relieved that her friend hadn’t married Josh. And that was why she was unhappy.
How could she wish such humiliation on a nice guy like Josh? Sure, if Molly hadn’t been certain, then she couldn’t marry him. But if she’d had doubts, she never should have accepted his proposal. Why had Molly said yes?
Brenna had asked her that question two weeks ago when she’d met Molly for lunch in Grand Rapids, where Molly was going to medical school. But Molly had asked her a question first. “Will you be my maid of honor?”
Brenna had choked on the bite of cheesecake she’d just taken. After clearing her throat with a sip of water, she’d sputtered, “What?”
“I’m getting married,” her friend had announced, with none of the excitement Brenna would have expected.
“You and Eric have finally admitted your feelings for each other?” she’d asked, happiness filling her more completely than the creamy dessert had.
“Not Eric.” Her usually soft voice had been sharp as Molly stated flatly, “Eric doesn’t love me.”
Despite all of them knowing better, Molly had always insisted that. “Sure. So if not him, who proposed?”
“Joshua Towers. I met him when I was volunteering at the hospital. He’s a cosmetic surgeon. He works with burn victims, especially, and helps repair scars. He’s a fine surgeon, and a really great guy. He has the most adorable twin boys, too. He’s so sweet and funny.”
“How long have you been seeing him?” Because that was the first Brenna had heard about him.
Molly had shrugged. “Not that long. We’re both busy, and he’s raising the boys on his own. But we really clicked. The first time we went out we talked like old friends, as if we’ve known each other forever.”
“But you haven’t, Molly. Why would you accept his proposal so fast?” She hadn’t wondered why he would propose. A person couldn’t help but love Molly, she was so sweet.
“You’ll see when you meet him,” Molly had insisted. “And I can’t wait for you to meet him, Brenna. You’ll love him.”
“What about you, Mol? Do you love him?”
From her friend’s blush, Brenna had assumed she had.
A brush of a hand against hers now drew Brenna back to the present and the backseat of the limo.
“Are you okay?” Josh asked softly, his deep voice full of concern.
No wonder Molly had fallen for him. Not only was he movie-star handsome, but he was so kind, too. How could any woman not fall for him?
“Me?” She was riddled with guilt because she was infatuated with her best friend’s fiancé. No, she wasn’t okay. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You just landed pretty hard on the floor.”
She laughed. “Didn’t even feel it.” She rubbed a hand over her rounded hip. “I have lots of padding.”
Josh’s gaze slid, like a caress, over her curves. She nearly stopped breathing as he leaned close and murmured, “You’re just right.”
If he thought she was just right, he must think every other woman in the world was anorexic. No, he was probably lying. The man was a plastic surgeon. How could he look at anyone—and most especially her—and not imagine what he might nip, tuck and lipo if he had the chance?
She lowered her voice even more, so that they couldn’t be heard above the other conversations taking place in the limo. “The real question is, are you okay?”
“Sure,” he said, as if dismissing his own feelings.
She reached out and slid her fingers over the back of his hand, offering reassurance and understanding. But her fingers tingled, so she pulled them back and clenched her hand in her lap. To dispel the intimacy between them, she raised her voice as she asked, “Are you sure you want to do this—the limo, the reception?”
“We’re not calling it a reception anymore,” Josh reminded her. He hadn’t gotten married, so he shouldn’t feel so guilty about his attraction to her. “It’s an open house for the town.”
“We don’t live here,” Nick pointed out. “We don’t need to go.”
“We don’t live here yet.” But as he’d told the boys, Josh had bought a house here. He hadn’t had time to share that news with his best friend, though. Since he wouldn’t take possession of the house until he got back from his honeymoon, he’d planned on telling Nick then. Like Josh, Nick had only ever lived in cities, and he’d been against starting their private practice in this small town. He certainly wouldn’t understand Josh’s wanting to move there, too.
“But we’re opening our office in Cloverville,” Josh said, ignoring his best friend’s grimace. “We need to meet our potential patients.”
Nick nodded his begrudging agreement.
Rory, bored with the conversation, prodded his older brother. “So, can we open the champagne now?”
Clayton shook his head. “No. And even if we did, you wouldn’t get any.”
“Come on,” Rory whined, sounding a lot like the twins.
The oldest McClintock’s voice was gruff with impatience as he began, “Rory…”
The teenager whirled toward Josh. “You’re lucky you didn’t marry into this family. We never have any fun!”
Buzz