Aimee Carson – The Wedding Dress Diaries (страница 2)

‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘I just remember all my perps.’ His face grew tight, and a harsh laugh escaped his mouth, and he slid his eyes to somewhere beyond her shoulders. ‘And yeah, you look too sweet. But, trust me,’ he said with a light tone that he didn’t quite pull off. He took a sip of his drink and carefully set the glass down, his tone distant. ‘No one is as innocent as they look.’

There was a hard set about his eyes, the crinkles at the edges more about experience than age. A bitter fatigue that had started in his teens and now was fully realized.

That bold green gaze was back on her, intrigued. Interested. ‘Maybe we attended the same school?’

She shook her head.

‘Did we meet at a party once?’ he asked.

Enjoying his frustrated curiosity, she sipped her wine. ‘Try again.’

His eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Well, I know we haven’t slept together,’ Parker went on, sending her stomach plummeting to her toes.

God, only in her teenage dreams.

‘Because, although you’re certainly attractive,’ he said, ‘you’re definitely not my type.’

Amber ignored the sudden surge in her pulse and maintained an even tone. ‘Is that the only reason we couldn’t have slept together?’ she said. ‘Because I’m not your type?’

The reflexive sexy smirk lit up his face.

And as the words finally sank in, she drew back a touch in surprise. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘What type do you think I am?’

His gaze traveled down her body, leaving her hot in places that normally...weren’t. Her A-line dress was simple, with a classic cut. Nothing seductive. No overt ‘I’m yours for the taking’ in the way it clung to her body.

He hiked a brow dryly. ‘You own a bridal shop, which means you believe in the institution of marriage.’

‘And you don’t?’ she said softly, only pretending the statement was a question.

Sure enough, a bitter sound escaped those beautiful lips. Not that Amber could blame him.

‘Hell, no,’ he said.

Heart bleeding a little for him then, she remembered the day she’d found him by the dock, devastated by his mother’s words.

You were a mistake.

Amber had grown up knowing she was wanted. Secure in the knowledge her parents had been devoted to each other, were devoted to her. Her dad had died when she was a child, and her mother had loved him so much she’d never remarried. And Amber’s bridal store revolved around proving that love existed every day, with every client.

But Parker...

Well, Parker’s experiences were opposite in every respect.

And the boy who’d given Amber her first taste of romantic love—unrequited, but love nonetheless—had grown into a man who mocked its very existence.

‘You’ve made weddings your business,’ he said. ‘So, obviously you believe.’

‘And that’s how you’ve concluded I’m not your type?’ she said. ‘Because of the dress I’m wearing and what I do for a living?’

He sat back a bit to study her, no teasing, seductive tone now, but a kind of gaze that could see through your soul. ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head softly. The thoughtful look on his face was deep and, for the first time, he actually looked at her. Really looked at her. ‘It’s the light in your eyes,’ he said with a simple shrug. ‘You still believe.’

Her lungs slowly collapsed, forcing the air from her body. Believed in what? In love?

In life?

The thought instantly drained from her mind when he shifted closer, and the scent of his leather jacket drifted in the air.

‘I can’t remember who you are.’ Simmering gaze on hers, he said, ‘How about throwing a poor guy a hint?’

‘Okay,’ Amber said. After the years of crushing on Parker the teen, now that he was looking at her as a desirable woman, she wanted to work the moment for all she was worth. ‘You once pressed your lips against mine.’

Parker’s eyes widened, and he dropped his gaze to her mouth, pulling all the oxygen from the atmosphere. Amber’s breathing increased in an attempt to suck in enough air.

‘Awesome.’ His voice slid lower, like heated silk. ‘I approve of my choices.’

He leaned close, his eyes glowing, sparking embers she’d thought long dead—those secret pieces of a young girl in the throes of her first sexual attraction. Not really understanding the full extent of what she felt.

His teasing grin was hot enough to light the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. ‘Did I get to second base?’

Skin vibrating at the thought, her smile was strained.

‘Sorry, only first,’ she said.

And technically, it was probably only half base, but she was having too much fun to clarify the exact nature of how their lips had touched.

‘Did I slip you the tongue?’ he said.

‘No.’

‘My loss,’ he said, and his mouth parted a bit, as if imagining righting that previous wrong.

The tiny peek at his tongue sent a shot of adrenaline through her body, surely leaving her glowing. Fine hairs standing on end.

‘And as first kisses went,’ she pressed on, ‘it could have been better.’

Mostly by being real.

The offended expression on Parker’s face was comical. ‘Could have been— Wait...first kiss?’ He shot her a skeptical look. ‘Either this was a really long time ago or you’ve confused me with someone else.’

‘I definitely don’t have you confused with someone else.’ When he looked at her as though he was beginning to suspect she truly wasn’t sane, Amber sent him a smile and gave up the pretense. ‘I practically grew up at your mother’s house because my mom worked as her personal assistant,’ she said. ‘Which was the fancy title for glorified gofer girl.’

There was a three-heartbeat pause that felt like thirty as Parker’s expression remained blank.

‘I’m Amber Davis.’

‘Amber Davis,’ he said slowly, as if pulling the name from a memory long buried. Recognition finally shot through his face, and his shoulders snapped back. ‘Well, hell,’ he breathed out. ‘You’re the one who tried to drown.’

Two

Fifteen years earlier

The Hamptons, Long Island, New York

Swimswimswim

Eyes fixed on the dock, the chant rang on and on in Amber’s head. She’d lost sight of her paddleboard ages ago, swept away by the Sag Harbor current. Crap, she was so getting in trouble for this.

Mom’s gonna kill me if I drown.

A fresh slice of panic surged. How was she going to marry Parker now if she died? At the stupid age of twelve. Jeez, she’d never even been kissed before! Frowning, she paddled harder. She should have played Spin the Bottle at Nancy Kruger’s last month. Okay, so Amber probably would have been stuck kissing Jimmy Stevens, better known as lizard tongue, but at least she wouldn’t be drowning with virgin lips. An epically lame end to the suckage that was her life.

All except for Parker.

Parker.

So what if he was in the eleventh grade and she was only in sixth. She’d loved him since she was eight years old. He’d briefly been replaced with Justin Timberlake from ’N Sync, but even she knew that was pretty unlikely to happen. And Parker was cuter. She wanted to marry him so bad that she’d picked out her wedding dress ages ago. Course, it had taken her four months to whittle it down to her top five favorites. Her obsession with tulle and satin and lace was growing pretty strong. This summer, in a fit of boredom, she’d planned the whole ceremony. Reese would have been her maid of honor cuz she was Parker’s half sister and Amber’s sort-of friend.

Stupidstupidstupid

Sneaking off and forgetting the life vest. But she’d really really wanted to get better on the paddleboard. Mostly cuz she wanted to impress Parker. Last summer he’d taught her how to stand and maneuver a turn, but this summer he was more interested in kissing Susie Frances. Amber scowled. And he never helped her bait a hook or capture crabs anymore.

The current was scarily strong, and the dumb dock was slipping farther away. The chill from the water seeped deeper with every passing minute, despite how hard Amber swam. Teeth chattering, her arms and legs grew heavy. So much so it was a struggle to control them now.

A sob ripped from her throat, and she fought back the fear, closing her eyes.

Giveupgiveupgiveup

Her muscles screamed for a break, her lips quivering, the taste of salt a mix of seawater and frustrated tears. The furious pounding of her heart was now just as much about terror as tiredness, and she was sure her chest was gonna explode.