A Bravo Christmas Wedding. Christine Rimmer

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Название A Bravo Christmas Wedding
Автор произведения Christine Rimmer
Жанр Контркультура
Серия Mills & Boon Cherish
Издательство Контркультура
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781472048929



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How nice that you finally decided to join us.”

      Nell’s pillowy red upper lip twitched in a lazy sneer. “Don’t start, Elise. I’m not putting up with your crap this morning.” Nell glanced Rory’s way and actually smiled. “Rory. Hey.”

      Rory peeled her camera off her face long enough to give Nell a hug. “Good to see you.”

      “Nellie, you look half-awake,” Tracy remarked in full snark mode. “Have you been taking advantage of our permissive marijuana laws again?”

      Nell smoothed her gorgeous hair with one languid stroke of her red-nailed hand. “It’s a thought. I really should do something to relax when I know I’m going to have to put up with you and your evil twin here.”

      Elise sniffed. “Don’t let her bother you, Trace. She was just born rude—and then badly brought up.”

      Nell covered a yawn. “Better rude and runnin’ wild than the biggest bee-yatch in town.”

      Tracy and Elise gasped in outraged unison.

      Rory had stopped taking pictures. Her gaze tracked toward the door and collided with Walker’s. He was looking as worried as she felt. Elise and Tracy had been ganging up on Nell for as long as Rory could remember. And Nell had no trouble at all fighting back. The only question now was, how far would they go today? When they were teenagers, according to more than one source, the three of them used to go at it no-holds-barred, with lots of slapping and hair-pulling.

      Poor Clara had begun to look frazzled. She patted the air with both hands. “Seriously, everyone. Could we all just take a deep breath—and will you put on the dresses so Millie can pin the hems and mark up any final alterations?”

      Nell purposely turned her back on Tracy and Elise—and they did the same to her. Rory breathed a small sigh of relief. Nell said, “Millie, do I smell coffee? I would kill for a cup.”

      “Help yourself,” said Millie. She had a table set up in the corner with a silver coffee service, cups, cream, sugar, everything—including a plate of tempting-looking muffins from the baker across the street.

      “I love you,” Nell told Millie in her husky bedroom voice as she filled one of the cups. Jody, who hadn’t said a word since Nell entered the shop, had already poured herself a cup and taken a seat near the wall.

      Clara tried again, “Put on your dresses, everyone, please. Millie’s hung them in the dressing rooms.” Millie had three dressing rooms. Clara pointed at the center one. “Rory, you’re in there with me. Elise and Tracy on the left. Jody and Nell to the right.” Assigning the dressing rooms was a smart move on Clara’s part. It was one thing to try to pretend that her battling sisters had no issues with each other. But God knew what might happen if Nell ended up alone in a confined space with Tracy or Elise.

      They went to their assigned rooms and put on their bridesmaids dresses, which were each a different style, but all floor-length and in a vivid eggplant-colored satin. Then they drank coffee and nibbled on muffins while taking turns getting up on the platform so that Millie could pin up the final alterations.

      The process took until a little past noon. A few sharp remarks were tossed around. But on the whole, they all managed to behave themselves. By the end, Clara almost seemed relaxed.

      After the fitting, Clara had lunch reservations for all of them at the Sylvan Inn. Everybody loved to eat at the inn. They had fabulous hammer steaks and wonderful crispy fried trout. The inn was a few minutes’ drive southwest of town. Tracy and Elise said they would go together. Clara offered to drive everyone else.

      Rory made a stab at getting Walker to allow her to go to lunch on her own.

      He said, “Let Jody and Nell go together. I’ll drive you and Clara. That way, if Jody or Nell gets into it with Elise and Tracy, there are viable escape options.”

      “Walker. You make it sound like a battle plan.”

      He grunted. “Because it is. More or less.”

      She wanted to argue that everything would be fine and he really didn’t have to keep her in sight every minute of every day. But actually, knowing the Bravo sisters, it might not all be fine. And he seemed so determined to watch over her. It really was kind of sweet that he took the job of providing her security so seriously.

      So she went back to her cousins and shared Walker’s suggestion as to who should ride with whom—minus the part about battle plans and escape options. They all agreed Walker’s way would be fine.

      In Walker’s SUV, Rory sat in the front seat next to him and Clara hopped in back. Once they were on the way, Clara said she wanted him to join them for lunch when they got to the inn.

      He laughed. He really did have the greatest laugh, all deep and rough and sincere at the same time. “You’d probably make me sit between Nell and Elise.”

      And Rory kidded, “Well, you might as well make yourself useful. You can play referee.”

      “Not a chance. I’ll just stay out of the way. You won’t even know I’m there.”

      “Of course we’ll know.” Clara reached over the seat and poked at his shoulder.

      Rory tried, “And it doesn’t seem right for you not even to get some lunch in this deal.”

      But he just wouldn’t go for it. “I’ll get something later. Don’t worry about me.”

      So she and Clara let it be.

      At the inn, Walker had a private word with the hostess—no doubt to explain why he would be lurking and not eating. Then he took up a position near a window painted with a snowy Christmas scene. The spot was out of the way of the waiters and busmen, but with a clear line of sight to the table where Rory sat with her cousins. By then, they all knew that Walker was her stand-in bodyguard. Nell teased her about it and they both laughed.

      Christmas favorites played softly in the background, and Clara had a bottle of champagne waiting on ice for them. It was nice. Festive. They each took a glass of bubbly, and Clara made a sweet little toast. She took a tiny sip and set the flute down and never touched it again. They ordered.

      At first, it all seemed to go pretty well. At least everyone was civil. But then, shortly after the waitress brought their food, Tracy started in again about how she and Elise ought to be doing the reception flowers.

      Jody said, “Oh, come on, Tracy. Give it up, already. It’s been decided.”

      Elise scoffed, “That’s what you think.”

      And then Nell said to no one in particular, “Because some people just can’t stand not getting everything their way all of the time.”

      Tracy snapped, “Stay out of it, Nell. This has nothing to do with you.”

      “Come on, guys,” Clara piped up hopefully. “Let it go. Let’s have a nice lunch as a family. Please.”

      “Yeah, Clara.” Nell mimed an eye roll so big, she almost fell over sideways. “Good luck with that.”

      “I’m not kidding,” Elise muttered under her breath. “So freaking rude.”

      To which Nell replied with saccharine sweetness, “And what about you, Leesie? You’re just a big ole plate of harpy with an extra-large helping of shrew on the side.”

      Elise glowered, teeth clenched. “Why you little—”

      Clara cut her off. “Stop. This. Now.” She sent a furious glare around the table. Clara never lost her temper, so to see her about ready to start kicking some sisterly butt shocked the rest of them so much they all fell silent.

      Walker left his position by the window and started toward them, ready to intervene. Rory met his eyes and shook her head. There was nothing for him to do in this situation. Nothing for either of them to do, really.

      He took her hint and went back to his