The Sweetest Fling (A Stupid Cupid Book) (6 page)

“We could share something wild, together, before we’re married and just can’t consider it anymore. Let’s do it. Let’s be erotic, and make a naughty memory that will pale in comparison to any bachelor party.” He steepled his hands and pointed them at her. “What do you think?”

Claire stammered, unable to capture a single word for a good thirty seconds. What did she think? That he was an asshole? That he’d never find a woman willing to jump into their bed in a month’s time, even if Claire
was
game. And how did this all of a sudden become a reasonable idea?

“What do I think?” she finally spit out through gritted teeth. She pulled the sheets up over her breasts. “Are you getting cold feet? Oliver, how many times have we had this fight how many times? Why are you doing this now?”

“Whoa, hey. It doesn’t have to be a fight. Look, before you say no, think about it. That’s all I ask.” He ran his hand over the white sheets covering her legs. Her skin still crawled. “All I’m asking you for is to be a little daring. To at least consider it. Think about how special we could make it.”

Claire’s mouth fell open, but no words came. Think about it? She had no need to. But she did need to think about why this urge reared up again. It had been a good two years since this fight. At least. It all centered on the what-if conversation.

Early in their relationship, She made the mistake of broaching a stupid idea. The what if game. She’d been dreaming about Jace for a solid month. Now, she’d never live the conversation down. This wasn’t about him living out a fantasy. This was about her what-if.

She’d told him too much about Jace.

Suggesting a third party was his way of soothing his fears, or maybe reminding her he could want another, too. If not for the hundred plus guests and everything else about their relationship being absolutely solid—everything she grew up thinking a marriage would look like, she’d dump him.

How mature would dumping him be, though?

So she glared him down instead.

Oliver kissed her hand before she could snatch it away, rolled on his back, and turned up the volume on a reality game show. For all appearances, he’d just asked about her day. For all appearances, he didn’t doubt her feelings.

Claire let out a long breath and couldn’t help wondering how in the world she’d gotten herself to this place in life. And a small voice asked if it was where she wanted to be at all. She’d thought so. She really had. But now ...

Jace’s face flashed in her mind. The one funny eyebrow. The bright blue of his eyes that were tiny dots of color. Like a painting. Why had she ever told Oliver about him? About that perfect night. He’d never live up to it. She’d been too honest in that what-if game.

The images memory painted inflamed her heart. Jace. She didn’t want to spoil the memory.

What if she’d stayed that morning? What if she’d told Tyler she’d fallen for his brother? What if she’d ruined everything? What if the whole thing was just a drunken, random, scary, absurd ... amazing night?

Who made guys like that, anyway? Sweet and honorable. Sexy and strong.

No one.

She couldn’t let the what-ifs pile up too high. They hurt. They made her wish for things that would never come to be.

~~

Chapter Six

Ashley was right. The color of the dress did match Millie’s eyes exactly. Espresso, the tag said. Somehow, staring at her reflection, Millie thought this wasn’t exactly a holy color though, eyes brightening or not. But, she’d learned by now not to argue about anything with Ashley, especially when it came to the baby.

“Why are we picking out a baptism dress at a wedding shop again?”

Ashley turned around, her wide belly knocking off the other three dresses she’d selected for Millie. “Because, I want everything, and I mean everything, taken care of before Peanut comes. If I don’t have everything done now, it will fall apart at the seams, and I will be too occupied being a mommy to handle the mess.”

Peanut. It was the baby’s unofficial name until the world found out what Ashley and Lawrence already knew—the name and gender of their little one. Millie bent and picked up the fallen garments, the air squeezing out of her lungs as the dress cinched her ribs.

“All right,” she said, hoping to placate Ashley. “I just never knew that baptisms were so... formal.” She’d imagined a nice dress, yes, but not what looked like a prom dress. No, not really prom, more of a bridesmaid’s dress, she corrected, catching another glance at herself.

“I have waited six years for this baby to come.
Six
, Millie,” Ashley said, her head bobbing in circles behind Jace’s reflection. “And if I want you to wear a wedding dress, or for everyone to wear a wedding dress, then so be it.”

Millie nodded. “You’re right. It’s lovely. I feel like I’m about to walk down the red carpet, Ashley. I just haven’t been in many wedding dress shops, is all.” Many? Try none. Back in Kiki times, her mom had been on her third marriage, and not a one involved a wedding dress shop. Paris couture, sure. A Maui bikini Luau, most definitely.

“Who else has to, I mean, gets to dress up with me again?” Millie asked, wondering how her waitress wages would cover the thing.

If only she could say no to Ashley. She couldn’t. Not if Millie wanted to stay anywhere near her current target, Jace seriously Fletcher. Of all the ironic jokes Karma Court had in for her, this might be the funniest. Ha ha.

“Everyone, silly. Friends, family. Besides, you like clothes.”

True enough. Millie missed having four walk in closets worth of one of a kind couture. Badly. Especially right now.

“Is it over yet?” Jace called from outside the dressing rooms.

Wow. That man really couldn’t stand her. At first, she’d hoped he couldn’t stand all women. She even went on an all-expenses-paid guilt trip over it, blaming her mistake six years ago. Now, though, Millie was decided. Jace just hated her.

“Don’t rush a pregnant woman, Jace,” Ashley called, taking Millie’s bust and shoving it upward. “Millie, you deserve to look amazing. AJ needs to see what he’s missing out on.”

Millie rolled her eyes but smiled. “Why aren’t we looking for this exact dress online?”

“Because there’d be no fittings. Trust me. I thought of it already.”

Millie didn’t doubt it. Ashley had gone from treating Millie with ice gloves to melting with her after they accidentally bonded over owning the same animal-print Snuggies. For once, her matchmaking strategy was going according to plan. The target hated her, so find another way in. The sister. A fellow TV shopper. Who knew?

“I’m leaving, Ashley,” Jace called out.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Don’t freak out. Mom roped me into lunch. I’m just grabbing a quick Starbucks.”

Tolerating one more boob tuck from her latest BFF was a little demanding on Millie’s nerves today, though. At least she knew for a fact that Jace and Tyler would be getting fitted any day now for tuxedos. Made her feel a little better. And Helen, Ashley’s mother, was next in line for the dressing room once Ashley decided which of the four Millie would wear.

She had an in. Now to find Jace a mate. Short of locating a time machine on eBay, she didn’t know what she could do to match him, though. A wedding shop certainly was the last place on earth she’d land him with love. And. . .

Millie slipped out of the brown dress and into the coral concoction Ashley held in front of her.

“Well, dear me, I can hardly believe my eyes,” Helen said from outside the door, sounding aghast. Please, not another dress. They’d never get out alive if Helen didn’t stop throwing more dresses over the door. The woman was psycho for taffeta.

Millie and Ashley exchanged looks. Ashley shrugged.

“Claire Byron!” Helen’s voice was farther away but the words carried distinctly through the thin dressing room door.

Millie froze, half-zipped into a dangerously ruffled dress. Few words felt like a quick smack to the face, but those two did it. Millie blinked. Had she heard right? No. She couldn’t have.

But her heart thumped up into her throat, and her mouth went dry. The only thing she could think of was getting the zipper up so she could leave the fitting room and see for herself. Claire?

“Careful, Millie. You’ll rip it,” Ashley scolded and took over. “There.”

Without a backward glance, Millie turned to leave.

“Hey, where are you going? I didn’t even get a chance to see it.” Ashley’s voice trailed Millie.

She lifted the skirt’s layered edge, faintly aware of her gaping mouth. At the end of the short hall, she spotted Helen, her back to her, sporting an enormous dress of her own and animatedly talking. Listening. Claire’s voice? It
couldn’t
be. It
had
to be.

It was.

Millie almost peed herself. Shit! Crap!
Claire
. The match she had royally screwed up how many years ago? Six. What was Claire doing in Arizona? She was a California girl. The room got a little blurry. Claire was here, Jace was her target, and ... no way.

Did she get to fix her total and complete foul-up? Oh, frack! AJ was going to be so happy. Millie stepped around Helen, trying not to beam too damn much. Claire might not hate her after all, though in truth, if she knew all that Millie’d messed with, she would. “Claire?”

Helen turned, revealing the slightly older, intelligent,,and sweet face all dressed in… what the hell? White? The air in her lungs hitched tight.

“Millie? Oh, wow. What a small world,” Claire said, her voice a tad higher than normal.

“Hiiiii.” Millie took in Claire’s dress. The veil. The ring. And the tinkle of the shop doorbell. Oh no.
Jace!

“And Ashley? Look at you.” The two rushed into a hug. “When are you due?”

Millie spun on her heel. She had to get to Jace before he came around the second aisle, before he headed to the dressing room. Before he saw—no!

She stopped short, and all the years of wondering whether she could have done something differently in Claire’s match came tumbling down right on top of her heart. She was too late.

~~

Chapter Seven

Jace would be the first to admit he didn’t like Millie. Never had. Not six years ago. Not now. But she looked as though she was about to pass out. Jace set his coffee on the nearest counter and hurried over. “Hey,” he asked, taking her elbow. “You okay?”

Millie looked so pale she was almost gray.

“You need some air? Ashley, a little help?” Women and dresses. This wasn’t the eighteenth century.

Ashley rushed over, a bug-eyed look on her face. She was looking at him as though he’d caused Millie’s getting woozy. He loved his sister, but this pregnancy was making her crazy. Bossier than ever, and seriously crazy. Poor Lawrence.

“Millie, are you okay? Ashley, unzip her or something.”

Ashley frowned, nodded, and tore the zipper down. Millie’s tits spilled out. He’d never seen anyone faint before, but Millie did—the second her dress hit her hips. Jace barely caught her before she cracked her skull on the floor.

“Is she okay?” someone asked. A clerk, maybe.

His mom hurried to cover her chest up. Jace felt all sorts of awkwardness. Tits were tits, but the exact rosy color of Millie’s nipples would be burned into his poor brain. Great.

“Can you get her to the settee?” A long-fingered and delicate hand gestured, diamond glinting in the store’s lights.

Jace scooped up Millie, even though part of him resented it, and carried her to the ivory settee. He felt like an ass. Why did she rub him the wrong way so much? Hell, he knew why. He refused to think about why.

Claire.

One snapshot of perfection. Bad timing. Bad luck. Whatever he called it never seemed to change the fact that he would never be able to forget her. Or stop missing her.

He stepped out of his mom’s way, narrowly avoiding Ashley’s big belly and nearly knocking over the bride. “Shit. Sorry,” he said, side-stepping her skirt on the floor.

“Jace?”

His ears buzzed. Where did he know that voice from? Everything went slow motion as he stood up, looking for the source. He frowned. Shook his head. Every fiber of his body knew, possibly before his mind even registered the truth.

Claire
.

Tall and beautiful and the breath knocked clean out of Jace’s gut. He wiped his hand over his forehead to cool the flash of heat there. She’d grown her hair out and the shiny locks tumbled around her shoulders. She stood looking up at him with emotion in her eyes. Emotion he didn’t want to see.

Pity? Was that it?

Worry?

Was she worried about him?

Jace stepped back and right into Ashley’s firm, round belly.

“Aren’t you Tyler’s Claire? From my wedding?” Ashley asked, moving around Jace.

“Yes.”

Jace reached to grab his sister, but Ashley was already walking past him and over to Claire. Jace stood rooted to the spot, unable to think or breathe. His mom and sister chatted with Claire, while Millie slowly sat up. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

Tyler. Oh, hell. Tyler was supposed to meet them here. He’d left a voicemail while waiting for his coffee. His eyes swept the area for where he’d left his cup, only to land back on Claire. Bare shoulders, and the rest of her decked out in white.

His eyes locked to hers.

Her mouth made a small “
o
.” Her hand went to her narrow waist, and a heartbreaking smile spread across her face. A rush of memories rushed past the tightness in his chest. Heartache came slamming back to Jace. This was
not
how it was supposed to happen.

No. Not like this.

Not with his mother and sister-in-law, not in a bridal shop—Claire wearing a wedding dress? Whatever breathing he lost, he regained in threefold. The air became hot. Jace forced a smile on his face and struggled to not hyperventilate.