Page 10 of Working for the Runaway Bride

“I’m thinking that you deserve a man who would come get you himself.”

“Grayson came.”

The words slip out before I can stop them. Jessica turns her head toward me. I stare straight ahead.

“Interesting,” she says.

“What is?”

“You didn’t say Carter arranged for someone to come. You said Grayson came.”

“Because he did.”

“And apparently that matters.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“If it didn’t matter, you wouldn’t be blushing.”

“I’m not blushing.”

“You’re bright red.”

“It’s hot in here.”

“The air conditioner is on.”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Absolutely. Let’s talk about how attractive Carter’s father is.”

“Jessica.”

She laughs. “Fine.”

I sink lower in my seat. I’m not attracted to Grayson. I can’t be. He’s Carter’s father. In one week, he’ll be my father-in-law. He’ll sit across from us at family dinners. He’ll be in our holiday photographs. If Carter and I have children, Grayson will be their grandfather.

The thought should smother whatever inappropriate spark I felt when he touched my hand. It doesn’t. It only makes my stomach twist. Jessica slows as she turns into my driveway.

“Carter’s home,” she says.

His silver sports car sits in front of the garage. He told me he had a full day of errands today, though I never found out what any of them were.

I glance at the front of the house. The curtains are open, but sunlight reflects off the windows, making it difficult to see inside.

“I can come in with you,” Jessica offers.

“Why?”

“So we can ask him what was important enough to leave you at school.”

“I’m not interrogating him.”

“That’s probably wise. He might strain himself coming up with an excuse.”

I unfasten my seat belt. “I’ll call you later.”

“Molly.”