Rita Herron

Have Bouquet, Need Boyfriend


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she lost her cool. Rational conversation fled, and she stumbled all over her size-seven feet. And sometimes, God help her, sometimes she even stuttered.

      “Becca, come on.” Suzanne jerked her toward the small crowd of women gathering on the lawn, their long dresses fluttering in the wind. “Angie and Caitlin are about to attack Alison for those flowers.”

      Rebecca laughed at her twenty-three-year-old twin cousins—daughters of her aunt Shelby who giggled and squealed—vying for the place in front of Alison. Although the twins shared a sibling rivalry born of being identical, they also shared a loving sisterhood, as did Hannah, Mimi and Alison. For some reason, she and Suzanne had never quite had that connection.

      Probably because they were so different.

      Another stab of envy assaulted Rebecca as Mimi nestled her three-month old baby to her chest. Rebecca’s own biological clock beat inside her like a drum. She desperately wanted a baby.

      But a husband had to come first.

      “Back to earth, Becca.” Suzanne waved her hand in front of Rebecca’s eyes, but Thomas gazed their way, and Rebecca froze. A frown marred his lips, his charcoal-black hair gleaming in the early evening light. The immediate pull of attraction that engulfed her slid through her nerve endings, sending a frenzy of delicious sensations spiraling through her. Sensations that paralyzed her.

      His six-foot-plus muscular frame filled out his dark suit. His broad shoulders almost seemed massive in the crisp white dress shirt. The sparkle of laughter normally present in his light-green eyes was replaced by a dark, faraway look, arousing her curiosity. Was he wishing Alison had married him instead of Brady?

      Contemplating going to him and offering a comforting hand, Rebecca started across the lawn. But her heel caught on a twig. She took a step forward and nearly plunged to the ground. Yelping, she reached for something to steady her, or at least break her fall, but found nothing to hold on to, not a chair or a tree or a table in sight. Thomas pitched forward as if to break her fall, although he wasn’t near enough to reach her, but Suzanne, ever the graceful one, slid a long manicured hand beneath her elbow, catching Rebecca first. Mortification stung Rebecca’s cheeks.

      A fraction of a second later, Thomas raised his gaze, the dark intensity disappearing as a slow smile spread across his face.

      Rebecca’s heart fluttered.

      Suzanne poked her. “Wow, who is that hottie eating the groom’s cake?”

      Her heart sank.

      If Suzanne wanted him, even though she lived miles away in Atlanta, she would have him. Suzanne always got what she wanted.

      “Thom-Thomas Em-erson, the OB-GYN—” She took a deep breath to steady her voice. “He works with Hannah.”

      Suzanne whistled beneath her breath. “Whew, a girl might be tempted to tear up her little black book for him.”

      Rebecca gulped. Thomas continued to stare, his gaze almost unnerving this time.

      He had to be looking at Suzanne. Everyone stared at her dark-haired, incredibly exotic-looking sibling. Not that she could blame them. Suzanne was beautiful. Dazzling. Mesmerizing. And, darn it, she was even nice, so Rebecca couldn’t hate her. Suzanne didn’t try to get all the attention. People were just drawn to her.

      But Rebecca was the mousy blonde who hid behind books and art and wire-rimmed glasses. The impossibly shy one who couldn’t talk or walk without tripping over her own tongue or feet.

      “Let’s hurry, she’s getting ready to throw the roses!” Suzanne gently pushed Rebecca forward just as Alison released the flowers. The bouquet soared through the air, bouncing first from Caitlin’s hands to Angie’s, then finally landing with a thump on Rebecca’s head. She reached for the arrangement, but the ribbon caught on the stem of her glasses, dangling over her eyes, blinding her, and a thorn from the rose stabbed her finger.

      THOMAS EMERSON FOUGHT a laugh as he watched Rebecca Hartwell struggle with the bridal bouquet. She was such a sweet, fragile-looking woman that his battered heart lurched every time he saw her.

      But he refused to get involved with another woman right now. Even kind-hearted blondes with big blue eyes and curves that might be sinful. That is, if she didn’t hide them beneath those baggy dresses.

      He pulled at his collar, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck. This rash of weddings lately had definitely affected him, probably the reason he’d proposed to Alison a few months ago. But in retrospect he realized he wasn’t ready for marriage.

      Instead he intended to focus on his career. Although he currently shared a practice with Hannah Hartwell, he had bigger goals. The very reason he’d been watching Rebecca in the first place. Not because he was attracted to the shy little nymph.

      No, he wanted to meet Bert Hartwell, her father. Dr. Hartwell was a renowned plastic surgeon and chairman of the board of the new women’s medical facility in Atlanta. The hospital boasted the latest in technology, research and cutting-edge medical techniques that Thomas wanted to be a part of. He had hoped to see Dr. Hartwell with Rebecca, but apparently he hadn’t shown up at his niece’s wedding.

      Rumor had it he was off on a honeymoon of his own, his fourth, to be exact.

      Odd. His daughters hadn’t attended his wedding.

      And he’d also heard that Bert didn’t exactly get along with Alison’s father, Wiley. Apparently they’d had some kind of rift way back when.

      Hmm, an interesting family. Not that he could be critical; his own family had disintegrated years ago.

      A moment of concern tugged at him as he noticed how forlorn Rebecca seemed in the midst of the giggling women as she tried to untangle the ribbon from her glasses, but he brushed it aside.

      Nice guys finished last.

      He had learned that lesson well.

      First, he’d lost the job he’d really wanted after med school to a guy who claimed to have been his friend. Then he’d lost Alison.

      Hell, he’d really never had her.

      His pride smarted, but he reminded himself Alison was happy and that was all that mattered. He certainly wouldn’t have tried to hold on to someone who didn’t love him.

      Was there something about him that was unlovable? He contemplated the way his mother had acted after she’d lost his baby brother, the way his father had so easily deserted him when his mother had thrown him out. Of course, his dad had been hurting as well, especially when his mom had admitted that she’d only used him to have another baby… Still, why hadn’t he been enough for them?

      Maybe he’d been looking for a way to settle down in this quaint town and he’d hoped Alison was that key. But he didn’t really want to stay in Sugar Hill the rest of his life, did he?

      He had other goals in mind. To land that job at the new women’s center. Thomas had an interview scheduled in a few weeks. Getting to know Bert on a personal level would give him the inside scoop on Hartwell’s theories and goals, and the interview would go smoother.

      Perhaps Rebecca would introduce him to her father. He’d overheard Mimi and Hannah discussing plans for a surprise birthday party for their grandmother. Wiley and Bert would both attend. If he could swing an invitation, it would be the perfect opportunity to meet Bert. He’d considered asking Hannah to introduce him, but he wasn’t ready to tell her he intended to leave the practice yet. If he asked Rebecca, he could keep his intentions quiet for a while. No sense stirring up trouble at work unless he had the new job in the bag.

      A red blush stained Rebecca’s cheeks as she plucked the bouquet from her head. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run from him the way she had at Brady’s sister’s Vivi’s wedding when she’d dropped those cream puffs on his head.

      She’d acted as if he was the big bad wolf ready to gobble her up.

      Though he wasn’t the big bad wolf, he was through being Mr.