“Found some champagne,” Gretchen cried over the crowd, squeezing her way toward us while juggling three flutes. She held two out as she approached. “We have to toast the bride-to-be.”
I followed Gretchen’s lead and raised a glass. Lucy was getting married, and that was more important than anything tonight. She’d memorized all the different types of veils before most girls had even thought about their wedding day. “To Lucy,” I said.
“And herfiancé,” Gretchen added.
“And to the best bridesmaids a girl could ask for,” Lucy finished.
I had a mouthful of fizz when Gretchen sucked in a breath. “Whoa. Who isthat?”
I didn’t need to turn to know who she was referring to.
Lucy rose onto the balls of her feet and followed Gretchen’s gaze over my shoulder. “Ohh,” she said, nodding with a knowing look. “Yep. That, my friend, is the infamousDavid the architect. He’s doing work for Andrew’s firm. They’ve bonded over sailing.” Noticing Gretchen’s raised eyebrows she said, “I know. He’s absolutelydreamy.”
I lowered my glass as bubbles tickled my nose. I didn’t know what to say, but staying quiet made me feel strangely guilty. “Since when is Andrew a sailor?” I asked.
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Lucy half-rolled her eyes. “Andrew wants to buy a boat.”
Gretchen’s eyes fixated behind me. She shook her head slowly. “David,” she repeated to herself. “My God. He is just so . . .”
As her eyes shifted and a deceptively innocent smile touched her lips, I realized he must be coming toward us. The hair on the nape of my neck rose, and I straightened my back, trying to think of something to say when he reached us. Something that wouldn’t give me away—something to dispel the electricity that passed between us whenever we were close.
But then, he breezed right by the three of us. Lucy and Gretchen turned to watch him go, making no secret of the fact that they were staring at him. I averted my eyes in case he looked back. The last thing I needed was for him to think I’d given him a second thought. The last thingheneeded was another woman—especially a married one—fawning over him.
“Look at that ass,” Gretchen said, her mouth twisting into an appreciative smirk.
Lucy clucked. “Don’t be vulgar.”
“I’m just stating the obvious,” she said with a shrug. “Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking theexactsamething, Lucille Marie.”
Lucy blushed crimson and looked away. “Don’t let Andrew hear that. He already has a complex about men like David.”
“Men like David?” I asked and bit my lip to shut myself up. I shouldn’t be inviting more on this topic.
“Well, true—I doubt very many like him exist,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe it just applies to David.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “I was asking what Andrew’s complex is.”
“He thinks I’d leave him in a heartbeat for someone like David.” She tapped her chin. “Handsome as sin, wealthy, and a genuinely nice guy.”
Gretchen looked skeptical. “Nice?”
“He’s always been very polite to me,” Lucy said. “And as far as I know, he’s single.”
My fingertips cooled around my champagne glass. Just because David was single didn’t mean he wasn’t dating—yet the prospect of him unattached still gave me butterflies. Until, that is, I noticed Gretchen’s sharp eyes narrowed in his direction. For the first time in a long time, I missed the excitement born of possibility and anticipation that came from meeting someone new.
“Gretch,” Lucy said, “why don’t I intro—”
“I met him in the kitchen,” I blurted, panic descending at the thought of Gretchen luring him in. She was a female version of David—impossibly beautiful, impossible to resist, impossible to tie down. Justimpossible—that’s what David was to me, and yet I found myself continuing, warning her off him. “I wouldn’t call himnice. He seemed like a jerk to me. Andrew practically said, flat out, that David’s a playboy. I wouldn’t bother.”
I wouldn’t bother with that arrestingly dark face, that smooth cleft chin, those milk-chocolate eyes. How many girls had he suckered in with just a look?
Gretchen gave me a curious glance, but she shrugged. “I’m not looking to marry the guy.”
Lucy waved down a passing cater waiter and handed us each a mini tuna tartare. “Well, Liv’s right. Andrew says since he’s met David, he’s seen him with several different women, and each one was more striking than the last. Andrew actually saidstriking.”
“I can be striking,” Gretchen said and rejected the appetizer with a flick of her wrist. “I’m not eating any more tonight.”
“Don’t tell me you’re on another diet,” Lucy said.
