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The Bridesmaid's Gifts
The Bridesmaid's Gifts
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The Bridesmaid's Gifts

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“You’ve got that straight.” Nic’s sudden tough-girl expression was especially funny considering the delicate lace draping her. “I’ve got handcuffs.”

Looking intrigued, Joel slid his arm around her slender waist. “Maybe we should discuss those…later.”

Ethan groaned and looked down at his empty punch glass. “I think I need some more of this fruity stuff. Since there isn’t anything stronger.”

“Nic. Joel.” Nic’s mother, Susan Sawyer, hurried toward them, a look of determination on her face, which so strongly resembled her daughter’s. “The photographer wants to take a few more pictures of you while the guests are in line at the buffet tables.”

Though Nic rolled her eyes a bit, she took Joel’s arm and turned obediently with him. “Yes, Mother.”

Joel looked back over his shoulder at his brother. “Try to look like you’re enjoying yourself, will you? I know you don’t like parties—but you could pretend you do.”

“To paraphrase a cheesy movie I caught on cable recently—this is my party face.”

Joel moved on with a resigned shake of his head, leaving Ethan to reflect that when it came to parties, he had always been pretty much hopeless. He didn’t do small talk, he wasn’t much of a dancer, he was uncomfortable in crowds and he was lousy at pretending to be having a good time when he wasn’t.

He stood unobtrusively at one side of the room while the other guests gathered around Nic and Joel or sat at the comfortably arranged small tables to enjoy the finger-foods buffet provided by the caterer. Ethan wasn’t hungry, so he remained where he was, watching.

His gaze turned toward the cake table in its place of honor. The cake was so fancy that it was almost a shame to destroy it, he thought, wondering how many hours Aislinn had spent on those incredibly detailed decorations. Hers was an odd business. All that time and effort spent on something so transient. A plain cake tasted just as good as one covered in fake lace and flowers.

Still, as a small-business consultant, he appreciated the fact that she had found a market for her skills and was apparently making a living at it. He wondered idly if she was charging enough for her time, taking full deductions on her supplies and other expenses. If she had a solid business plan to keep her on track to grow and expand her cottage industry.

“You’re thinking about work, aren’t you?” His mother, petite, blond Elaine Brannon, slipped a hand beneath his arm as she spoke indulgently. “You always get that exact look in your eyes when you’re trying to figure out how to make money for someone else. Are you already planning how to restructure your brother’s business office?”

“Something like that. How are you holding up, Mom?”

She gave him a look and spoke firmly. “I’m fine. The wedding was lovely, wasn’t it? Very simple and sweet.”

“It was nice. Nic was right to resist overdoing things. I hate those splashy, overblown, pretentious affairs.”

“You’re referring to your cousin Jessica’s wedding last year?”

He grimaced. “Bingo. The circus with the twelve bridesmaids and four flower girls and two dogs in tuxedos and the white doves and oversize ice sculptures and clowns and horse-drawn carriages and full orchestra and endless speeches by inebriated guests.”

“There weren’t any clowns,” Elaine murmured, though she couldn’t refute any of the rest of his drawled description. “I was sorry I coerced you into going to that one. I knew Marlene and Jessica would go overboard, but I didn’t think they would get that carried away.”

“Yeah, well, the worst part was that Marlene and Ted are going to be paying for that production long after the marriage is over.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.” Elaine shook her head in disapproval. “Jessica and Bobby have already separated twice, and last I heard, things aren’t looking any better for them. Still, Marlene could have made an effort to come to Joel’s wedding after we all made the trip to Iowa for Jessica’s.”

As much as he knew his mother enjoyed family gossip—the reason he’d brought up the juicy topic in the first place—Ethan was bored with discussing his father’s sister and her ostentatious lifestyle. “You and Susan seem to have been getting along very well,” he remarked, glancing across the room to where Nic’s mother stood chatting with the minister.

“She’s an interesting woman,” Elaine agreed. “She has some fascinating stories about living in Europe with her son. He has to return tomorrow because of job demands, but she’s staying here another week to visit with her friends before rejoining Paul in Paris. She even offered to provide accommodations and guide service if your father and I would like to visit there. Wasn’t that nice?”

“Good luck getting Dad to Paris,” Ethan murmured. “He would be convinced his practice would collapse and termites would eat the house to the ground while he was gone.”

Elaine sighed gustily. “He has to retire sometime, right? He can’t keep practicing orthodontia for the rest of our lives.”

“You know he would drive you crazy if he quit the practice. But maybe he’ll agree to take you to Paris later this summer since Susan made such a nice offer. I’ll even promise to check the house every day for termites.”

Smiling at the gentle mockery of her husband’s one odd obsession, Elaine said, “Between the two of us, maybe we can talk him into it. I would love to see Paris.”

Ethan made a mental note to persuade his father to book the trip as soon as possible. And then, because his mother faced a rather significant medical appointment next week, he tried to assure himself that there would be no reason for her not to enjoy that long-overdue vacation.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come back to Danston with you? Because I can come back and reorganize Joel’s operations later….”

She shook her head sternly. “You will stay here, just as you’ve planned. It’s the ideal time for you to look over Joel’s office procedures and to keep an eye on things while he and Nic are away. I never should have told you about my appointment. If you hadn’t happened to be there when the nurse called, I would have waited to tell you when I tell Joel—after I have all the results back.”

“Yeah, well, Joel’s going to be ticked off that you didn’t tell him sooner, just as I would have been.”

She leveled a finger at him in the same gesture she had always used when delivering a maternal order. “Don’t you dare say a word to him, Ethan Albert Brannon. I won’t have his honeymoon spoiled by worrying about something that will probably turn out to be nothing at all.”

He sighed and responded as he always did to that particular tone. “Yes, ma’am.”

“They’re getting ready to start the dancing.” Elaine glanced toward the corner where the band was starting to play again. “Interesting choice of musicians. They look young enough to be high school students.”

“They are. I think a couple of them are Joel’s patients.”

“Really? How odd. But pretty much what I’ve come to expect from Nic.”

“Admit it, you like her.”

“More all the time,” she confessed with a smile. “She really is a dear, isn’t she? And she loves Joel so much.”

“Obviously mutual.”

“Oh, yes. He’s crazy about her.” Looking pensive now, Elaine gazed across the room to where Joel and Nic were moving to the center of the dance floor. “I can’t help thinking back to Joel and Heather’s big, formal wedding. It was so different from this intimate little affair. Beautiful in its own way but different. And as happy as Joel was with Heather, this seems so much more fitting for the man he is now.”

Ethan didn’t want to talk about his late sister-in-law tonight, six years after her death. “This is who Joel is now,” he agreed simply, then changed the subject. “Do you want something to eat? I’ll get a plate for you.”

“No, thank you. I’d better go join your father. He’s starting to give me signals that he’s ready to be rescued from Nic’s uncle’s fishing stories. By the way, you really should ask the maid of honor to dance. I know you don’t care for dancing, but it is sort of tradition, you know.”

He frowned as he glanced instinctively across the room to where Aislinn sat at a table eating with Nic’s mother and brother. “Considering my dancing skills—or lack thereof—she would probably just as soon I didn’t ask her.”

“Nonsense, Ethan. You’re perfectly capable of moving in time to the music. And why wouldn’t you want to dance with her? She’s very pretty. There’s something a little…I don’t know…different about her, but I suppose that’s to be expected from Nicole’s best friend, isn’t it?”

Elaine seemed to have no idea just how “different” Aislinn was rumored to be—and not just in Nic’s refreshingly unpredictable way, Ethan mused after his mother went off to rescue his dad. No surprise, of course. He wouldn’t have known himself had it not been for that incident back in the fall, when Aislinn had called to warn of Nic’s impending accident.

It wasn’t as if anyone around here ever openly talked about it—not that he’d heard, at least. They simply acted a bit wary around Aislinn, as though they weren’t quite sure what to say to her.

Oddly enough, he was sometimes treated the same way back in Danston. As though he didn’t quite fit in with everyone else. Though, as far as he knew, no one had ever accused him of having any supernatural abilities.

The bride and groom finished their dance, and everyone else was encouraged to take the floor. With a slight shrug, Ethan moved toward Aislinn. What the heck. It wasn’t as if there was anything else to do. And dancing with a beautiful woman—even one who pretended to be a psychic—was more entertaining than just standing there being bored.

Chapter Three

Aislinn was taken completely off guard when Ethan asked her to dance, which perhaps explained why she couldn’t come up with a quick and polite excuse to decline. Not that there was any real reason why she shouldn’t have accepted, of course, she reminded herself as they moved toward the small dance floor. It was sort of expected for the best man and the maid of honor to share a dance.

She was aware of that same odd hesitation when he turned to take her into his arms, almost a wariness of letting him touch her. She still couldn’t understand why she felt that way around him. She’d touched nearly everyone else in this room, shaking hands in the reception line, exchanging brief social hugs with the people she had known most of her life. There had been no unusual flashes of insight, no unprecedented reactions to the physical contact. There was just something about Ethan….

“Why did you look so surprised when I asked you to dance?” he asked as soon as they music began.

Keeping as much distance between them as politely possible, she shrugged lightly before answering, “I just didn’t think you would.”

Mentally she dared him to make some smart-aleck remark about how he would have expected her to predict the invitation, but to her relief, he let it pass. Maybe he’d gotten tired of making digs about her so-called abilities. At least she hoped that was the case.

“I guess you and I haven’t gotten off to a very good start,” he said abruptly. “And I suppose that’s my fault. I’m not very good at the social thing—meeting people, making small talk. Saying the right things.”

“You choose not to be good at it because it isn’t important to you,” she murmured in return. “You’re perfectly capable of making polite conversation when you make the effort.”

She was almost surprised when he agreed with her rather than challenge her again. “You’re probably right. I just don’t choose to make the effort very often.”

“I’m not exactly a party animal either,” she admitted after a moment. “I prefer small gatherings to large crowds. And I sometimes have trouble knowing what to say to people I don’t know very well. So I’ll take part of the blame for any awkwardness between us.”

“Very generous of you.”

His tone sounded more humorous than mocking, so she smiled. “Yes, I thought so.”

He seemed to search for something else innocuous to say. “They’ll be cutting the cake soon, I guess. Will it bother you to watch them chop it up?”

“No.” She was amused by his wording. “Why would it?”

“Well, you must have spent a lot of hours on the decorations.”

“That’s my job. I charge well for my time—though I made this one as a gift to Nic and Joel.”

“Nice of you. Do you run your business out of your house or do you have a bakery with helpers?”

“I recently leased a small shop because I’d outgrown my kitchen at home. I have two part-time employees for baking and deliveries, but I do most of the work myself. I prefer it that way for now.”

“As good as you are at it, you could probably build up a pretty decent business. Hire a few more people to do the mixing and baking while you concentrate on the arty part. Maybe teach a couple to decorate in your style for everyday orders, saving yourself for the really complicated stuff. You could advertise in Little Rock and online, get your name out there….”

Laughing a little, she tilted her head to look up at him, seeing a gleam in his eyes that had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her business. “Hey, just because you’re here to organize Joel’s office, don’t make the mistake of thinking I want the same thing. I’m perfectly happy with my little operation and I’m making enough to take care of my needs for now.”

“For now, maybe,” he agreed, “but what about the future? You should be thinking about—”

“Ethan, this is a wedding reception, not a business conference.”

His mouth quirked in a slight smile. “I’m painfully aware of that.”

The weak joke passed by her as she found herself staring at his mouth. If just that hint of a smile had softened his expression so much, she couldn’t imagine how much a full-blown grin would change him. Though she had a strong feeling few people saw him that happy and relaxed, she wished she could see him smile like that, just once. Only to satisfy her curiosity, of course.

He glanced toward the band. “They’re pretty good, considering how young they are.”

“Yes. They’re going to hit it big,” she agreed absently, still thinking about Ethan’s smile.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Was that just a guess?”

Feeling the muscles of her stomach tighten, she nodded coolly. “Of course. They’re very talented. Why wouldn’t they be successful?”

Aislinn knew very well that they were listening to a young band who would eventually be stars in their genre. A guess? Maybe, though without the doubt that usually accompanied a shot in the dark. Intuition was a more comfortable word for her—one she found easier to accept. Whatever lay behind her occasional predictions, she had enough experience with them to know that she was rarely wrong.

None of which she had any intention of discussing—especially with Ethan, who had made his doubts about her very clear.

She was rather relieved when the song came to an end. She stepped away from him with a bright smile. “I guess I’d better get back to mingling.”

He nodded, his own expression unreadable as he studied her face. “I’ll walk you back to your table.”

Because she didn’t want to rebuff him when he was making an effort to be sociable, she nodded and fell into step beside him. On the way back to the corner where she had been sitting with Susan and Paul, they passed a table at which Ethan’s parents sat chatting with the minister and his wife.

Elaine Brannon smiled approvingly at Ethan as they walked by, and Aislinn suspected that Elaine had pretty much ordered her older son to participate in the party. Had his mother been the reason he had asked her to dance?

Glancing at Ethan, she noted the expression in his eyes when he looked at his mother and she caught her breath. There was something she suddenly wanted to tell him, but she hesitated, knowing how he would react.

Maybe she should just keep her mouth shut. After all, these feelings of hers came with no guarantees. She and Ethan had just had a pleasant dance, ending on a fairly friendly note, for them. Why make waves now?

She sighed, aware that she was wasting time arguing with herself. After seeing the worry in Ethan’s eyes and knowing it was eating at him, she had to at least attempt to set his mind at ease.

“You don’t have to worry about your mother, Ethan,” she murmured, turning to him just before they reached her table. “She’ll be fine.”

His brows dipped into a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“The tests will be clear,” she continued quickly, before she changed her mind. “The mass is benign—nothing to be concerned about. So try not to worry too much about it.”

“How did you—?”

“It’s just a feeling I have, okay?” Anxious to get away from him now, she turned toward the table. “Thank you for the dance, Ethan. I’ll see you.”

He caught her arm. “Aislinn…”

Maybe it was because she hadn’t braced herself this time. Hadn’t been prepared for the touch. But she felt the jolt of reaction run through her, all the way from the contact between his hand and the skin of her arm to someplace hidden very deeply inside her. A place she had never wanted to examine very closely herself.

Something changed in his expression, irritation replaced instantly by reluctant concern. His hand tightened around her arm. “Aislinn? Damn it, you’ve gone white as a sheet. What’s going on?”

“I—uh—”

“Aislinn?” Nic appeared suddenly at her other side, looking quickly from Aislinn to Ethan. “Is anything wrong?”

“I—” Abruptly brought back to the present, she looked around, relieved to see that no one else seemed to be looking at them. Not at the moment, anyway. “I think I need some fresh air. If you’ll excuse me…”

“I’ll go with you.”

Aislinn forced a smile for her friend and spoke brusquely. “You’ll do no such thing. This is your wedding reception. Go find your groom and dance again. I just need a couple of minutes alone. You know how I am when a lot of people are around.”

Because she did know, Nic backed off. “All right. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Without looking at Ethan again, Aislinn made her escape, wishing she could go straight home but knowing she had to stay a while longer yet. For Nic.