Page 47 of Baby Maker

Chin up, old girl. You’ve muddled through worse. Besides, there’s an open bar and whiskey a plenty.

* * *

Pivoting before the mirrored wall,I examine my reflection. I may not always be beauty pageant ready, but today, I’ll hold my own. The dark blue cocktail dress hugs my curves, complete with a leg-flashing slit that’s barely this side of legal.

Classy with a sassy edge. I’ve curled my hair, letting it cascade in waves down my back, and for once, I took some time with my makeup.

Throw in some four-inch strappy heels, and I’ll give any of those women Keegan boinked last night a run for their money.

It’s all false bravado, though. Upbeat music resonates through the room, and I’m determined to present a sunny disposition. I just might need copious amounts of alcohol to maintain it.

“Wow.”

That single word has me turning on my heel, my breath catching at the sight of Keegan.

At that moment, I hate him. Truly. But I say that in the most loving fashion. It’s just that no one should look that good in a tuxedo. The man puts James Bond to shame. “Wow, yourself. You look wonderful, Keegan.”

He smiles, but I can feel the tension from across the room. There’s a canyon of space now between us. “Are you almost ready?”

“I am. Let me put on my necklace, and I’ll be good to go.”

“Allow me.” Closing the distance between us, he takes the chain from my hand, his fingers setting off waterfalls of feeling as they brush against my skin.

Control my breath. Breathe in, breathe out. Find my calm. My center.

Screw this. I don’t stand a chance. Dragging my eyes up to meet his in the mirror, our gazes hold, the emotion crackling between us.

“Thank you for doing this.” His hands drift from my skin, and I feel cold without their weight.

“Don’t thank me yet. There’s still time for me to upend a server and fall into the wedding cake. I have aspirations, you know.” I laugh despite the absurdity of the situation. Something about the man makes me giddy, and I find solace in a good giggle.

Keegan’s solemn expression slides away, chuckling in agreement. “I’ll have my camera at the ready for those moments.” He offers his arm, which I accept with a smile. “Shall we?”

* * *

The ceremony is lovely.Okay, that’s a crap statement. I don’t have a clue what the preacher said. I was too focused on the handsome groomsman… and the lithe blonde bridesmaid who kept eyeing him like a triple-decker sundae.

For his part, Keegan maintained a neutral gaze, save for the smile, and exchanged whispers as they walked down the aisle together.

Nope, I’m not jealous. I’d just like a moment or two of Blondie’s time. Long enough to hogtie her until after the reception.

Instead, I call on every facet of my English upbringing to maintain a calm facade to his family and friends.

I’m failing miserably.

I can’t help it. Keegan is the complete package. He’s also involved in a photoshoot that threatens to stretch on for eternity, with an endless array of poses, all of them far too close to his favorite bridesmaid.

Hard to believe that Keegan told me he loved me last night when today he’s barely looking at me. Then it occurs to me that maybe he was drunk. Perhaps his distance isn’t because I wounded him, but he’s embarrassed.

One option is hell for him. The other? Hell squared for me.

“Miss, they’re opening up the cocktail hour, if you’d like to head inside.” A young server gestures toward the door where people are filing in from the patio.

I turn my head, shielding my eyes from the afternoon sun. “Is the bar open?”

“It is.”

“That may be the best news I’ve heard all day.” I walk into the reception area, offering smiles to the myriad of guests wandering the area. The upside to a wedding where you know no one? You can people watch to your heart’s content. The downside? You’ve got your whiskey for company.

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