“What’s wrong?” she asked, worried the heat or altitude was getting to him. When they first exited the car she noticed how much thinner the air was. Perhaps he hadn’t adjusted yet.
“I have an idea, and you won’t like it.”
“Then my answer is no.”
“You haven’t heard the idea yet.”
“I don’t need to. If you think it’s a bad idea…”
“I didn’t say it was a bad idea. I said you wouldn’t like it.”
She crossed her arms. “Same difference.”
He looked unamused. “Everyone is sitting across the yard over there. We can see them, which means they can see us. We need a public display.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. But before she could process fully, he slid an arm around her waist and drew her to him. Hard chest. Wall of hard chest. Now there was no air.
“Act like we’ve done this before,” he whispered.
“Done what?”
“Kiss, Cam. Act like you’ve kissed me before.”
“How am I supposed to do…?”
The words died in her throat as his mouth closed over hers. At first she froze, disoriented, but then their noses brushed, he tilted his head, and her eyes drifted shut. She grabbed his arms for balance. Muscled, firm arms that tensed beneath her fingers. She remembered the look of them from last night, but they felt so much better.
Troy had mad, mad skills. She knew he would. God in Heaven, did he ever. Camryn didn’t think
she
had the ability to respond this strongly, though. A sharp, satisfying tremor rocked her center. His lips parted and he slid his tongue against hers. Once. Twice. As the kiss deepened, his hands came up to cup her cheeks and she leaned into him. She lost feeling from the neck down.
Troy. Troy Lansky was kissing her. With witnesses. Because he was pretending to be her…
He broke away, hands still cupping her cheeks, and stared down at her. “What in the hell was that?” he whispered, his voice harsh.
She thought it was a kiss. A darn good one. She may not have his experience, or his expertise, but she wasn’t so daft she didn’t know when she was just kissed. Properly.
His jaw ground as his mouth firmed into a thin line. He dropped his hands and stepped back. She’d never been a believer in spontaneous combustion, but by God she’d implode right now from embarrassment if he made fun of her. She wasn’t beautiful like his other women. In fact, she was the South Pole of sexy. Her heart lurched, threatened to stop beating.
“You are
not
a fish,” he ground out.
Maxwell’s ultimate insult from Troy’s lips sobered her. Except, did he say…?
Turning, he went to walk away, then must have remembered they came out together, because he came back, grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the awaiting tables.
“That looked like some kiss between you and Troy,” Heather said, stepping out of her shorts and placing them on the bench in the dressing room.
Camryn ignored the statement and carefully removed Heather’s wedding dress from the hanger. She unzipped the back and squatted down so Heather could step into it.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Heather asked.
“Yes, get the dress on before it wrinkles.”
Sighing, she did as asked. Camryn helped slide the garment up until it was in place, then turned her sister toward the mirror so she could zip the back.
“I mean, it didn’t look like you two were pretending back there.”
It didn’t feel like it either, but Camryn lived in reality. “Of course it was pretending. We knew all of you were watching. It was nothing.”
Nothing but a darn hot kiss that still had her shaking. Troy and his ideas could take a running leap off a very steep…
“C’mon. It was good though, right?”
“You’re zipped. Turn around. Let’s see.”
Heather turned to the mirror and made a squeak, which Camryn knew in regards to her sister always preceded tears. “Oh, it looks great. Don’t you think?”
Heather could wear a dust rag and look great, but she was right. She was going to be a lovely bride. The strapless off-white dress hugged her chest and waist before skimming to the floor in an elegant, sleek style. Woven into the satin of the train were tiny lavender pearls that matched the color of the bridesmaids’ dresses.
“It’s beautiful. So are you.” Heather started to gush, so Cam quickly pulled a tissue from her purse. “Don’t leak on the dress.”
Emily stuck her head under the changing room door and assessed the situation. “Why are you crying, Auntie Heather? It’s not as pretty as my dress, but it’s not that ugly.”
Camryn scooped her up and opened the door. “They’re happy tears, honey.”
“If she’s happy, why is she crying?”
“I don’t know. If you figure it out, let me know, okay?”
They stepped out and Mom started crying, which started a chain reaction to Justin’s mother, Bernice, and right on to Anna until stopping at Nana, who grinned through dry eyes.
“Are they happy crying too?” Emily whispered, as if scared out of her tiny skull by the female weeping display.
“Yes.”
The store attendant held the train so Heather could step onto the block in front of a three-way mirror. “I think it fits okay. The length is fine. How does the waist feel?”
“Good,” Heather said, pivoting to see every angle. “Cam and Anna, try yours on to make sure they’re okay.”
Camryn set Emily down and walked back to the dressing room. She handed Anna her dress and then stepped into her changing room. As far as bridesmaid dresses went, Heather had some taste. Lavender and strapless, the only pity was a thin white ribbon around the waist.
Camryn pulled the dress to her chest and reached behind her for the zipper. It wouldn’t go up. Her stomach dropped. Twisting, she reached inside the seam and pulled the tag. Size twelve. Her size. Except it fit like a ten.
“How are they?” Heather asked from outside the rooms.
“I’m good,” Anna said. Camryn heard Anna’s door open and listened to them discuss the length. “It is a tad long, but with the heels I’ll be fine.”
Camryn put her hands on the wall and leaned into them, drawing in a deep breath. She’d obtained a fake boyfriend, was in the process of lying to her family about said fake boyfriend, and humiliating herself to boot, all to not ruin Heather’s wedding, only to do so anyway by being too fat for her dress.
Opening her eyes, she turned the knob. “Mine doesn’t fit. It’s the right size, but it won’t zip.”
Silence. More silence.
Then a nuclear meltdown ensued. Mom pulled her to the mirror across the shop and onto the block. Heather started crying hysterically. Anna sat Emily in a chair and covered the little girl’s ears. The wedding attendant pushed, pulled, and tugged until Camryn thought she’d drawn blood.
The zipper did not zip.
In the raging silence that followed, Nana sniffed. “No more goodies for you, missy. You starve until the wedding.”
Camryn closed her eyes to the humiliation, pictured Nana as a leprechaun dancing a jig. It didn’t help. Tears were clogging her throat too fast to shove them down.
Bernice knelt in front of her. “This dress is two inches too long. We can take some of the extra material and add it to the back by the zipper. You’ll never be able to tell. These formal dresses run small. I should have warned you when we ordered them. This is my fault. I’m so sorry.”
Camryn looked down at Justin’s mother, lying through her teeth to make her feel better. It was working a little, though. The ache in her chest receded before a tear could fall.
“We can’t get that done in five days,” the attendant said. “That’s too close to the wedding.”
Bernice stood. “Then I’ll do it. Camryn, go get changed. We’ll take the dress home with us.”
The room collectively looked at her as if senility was catching.
Bernice stared them down. “I know you all look at me as some kind of snob. The year Justin was born, my husband, Tim, made some good investments. Before then we lived paycheck to paycheck. The staff aren’t permanent. We hired them to help get through the wedding. I made Justin’s Halloween costumes until he was five, you know.”
No one said a thing until Nana laughed. “Well, that’s a relief. I hate rich people.”
Heather wiped her eyes. “Can you really fix it?”
“Yes.” She looked at Camryn. “Come on, I’ll help you out of the dress.”
Still shocked, Camryn let Bernice lead her back to the changing room and help her out of the dress. “Thank you. My family can be a little tactless sometimes, but they mean well. Don’t hold it against Heather.”
“Oh please. You haven’t met my mother yet. Or my mother-in-law.” She hung the dress while Camryn changed. “They’re a little hard on you, your family.”
“I’m the oldest. Goes with the territory, I guess.”
Bernice nodded and smiled, reminding Camryn of Justin’s smile. “I’m the oldest in my family. That man of yours likes you just the way you are, so don’t you listen to them.”
Camryn grabbed her purse, smile faltering. Most people didn’t like her just as she was. Troy included.
Chapter Five
Life Lessons According to Camryn:
One must handle stress like a dog; if you can’t eat it or play with it,
pee on it and walk away.
Troy stared at the golf ball on the green in front of him, then clear across the grounds to where it was supposed to land. No way was this going to end well. He’d never golfed a day in his life. Never wanted to. He aligned his club, reared back, and swung.
The ball bounced off a neighboring tree and straight at Justin’s head. Justin ducked and looked at Troy as if they’d escaped a near-death experience.
Fisher shook his head. “Nice shot, man. At least you hit something. I can’t find my ball.”
Fisher was talking to him now. This was new.
Troy scratched his head. “Whose idea was it to go golfing anyway?” They were only on the fifth hole and collectively their score was higher than a basketball game.
Justin pointed an accusatory finger at his dad.
Tim shrugged. “You guys said sure when I asked.”
Troy laughed. “I thought you meant golfing on the Wii
.
We’re gonna kill someone out here.”
Tim grinned and set a nine iron back in his bag. “Thank goodness. I hate golfing. Bernice bought these clubs for me thinking it would be good exercise. Want to have a beer in the clubhouse instead?”
They headed back to the clubhouse in silence. After ordering drinks at the bar and sitting at a table, they laughed, agreeing never to repeat the golfing experience.
“I still can’t believe my son is getting married.”
Fisher set down his beer. “I tried to warn him, sir.”
Tim looked at Troy. “I guess you’ll be next, then. You and Camryn seem like a nice couple.”
Troy choked trying to swallow. Couple of what? After seeing Fisher’s expression of confusion, Troy backpedaled. “One doesn’t just propose to Camryn Covic. He must let her think it’s her idea and give her the control.”
A corner of Fisher’s mouth lifted. It was a start. Problem averted.
Tim grinned and took a sip from his Scotch. “You know your woman well.”
Camryn wasn’t his woman, and he used to think he knew her well. Until that kiss today.
When Heather told him about what this Maxwell guy said to Camryn, his first instinct was anger. No matter how good a woman was or wasn’t in bed, a gentleman never divulged the truth. After he got to thinking about it—and he’d tried really hard not to—he figured Camryn
was
wound too tight to ever let herself go and enjoy sex.
But after kissing her, he discovered Camryn had a whole other side to her. All cool and nice and controlled on the surface. Under that…
Well, she wasn’t a damn fish, that’s for sure.
He loved women. The way they smelled, laughed, felt. The way they looked first thing in the morning, the devious way they wrapped men around their finger. Women were the last great misunderstood mysteries to the world. Making love was one of life’s true treasures. He’d been with a lot of women, and he wasn’t ashamed of it.
None of them stopped his heart dead like Camryn had done earlier. None of them had stunned him enough to render him speechless.
Hell, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious in exploring that more. This was Camryn, though. He wouldn’t come out alive.
“Well,” Tim said, “I’m just glad you all could come. Bernice has been so happy planning this wedding. She always wanted a daughter.”
Justin drank from his bottle. “Thanks for the reminder, Dad.”
Fisher lifted his drink. “Thank you for having us. This took a lot of…guts.” Justin wanted to laugh, Troy could tell, but he somehow held back. “What do you guys say to horseback riding tomorrow? Jessie, my best friend growing up, has a farm at the edge of town. She’s been on me to bring you by.”
Fisher shrugged. “Sure. We can put the family in traction for the wedding.”