One Bride Too Many: One Bride Too Many / One Groom To Go. Jennifer Drew

you have a list?”

      “List?” He reluctantly dropped her hand, but still felt a vague need to comfort her for losing.

      “Shopping list, wish list, list of likes and dislikes.”

      “No, nothing like that.” He laughed self-consciously.

      “Everyone has some likes or dislikes. Give me a clue of what kind of person you have in mind.” She sounded grumpy.

      “Well, I’d rather she didn’t pick her teeth in public.”

      “Be serious!”

      “I am. I went with a girl—briefly—who had a teeth fetish. The minute she finished eating, out came the floss.”

      “None of my friends would be that gross.”

      “That’s why I need your help. You know things about them. I trust your judgment.”

      She was putting her stick in the case when two women walked up to the table.

      “Are you through for the night?” A platinum blonde batted lashes heavy with mascara.

      “The table is all yours,” Tess said. “I’m leaving.”

      “How about a challenge match?” the other woman said to Cole.

      He checked out her breasts—it would be hard not to notice them since they stuck out in all the glory silicone could produce—and backed away a step.

      “Thanks, but I’m calling it a night,” he said.

      “Pool isn’t the only game we play.” The blonde was wearing a skirt so short it looked like black leather underpants. She sidled up to Cole, took his arm and rubbed her hip against his.

      “I’m leaving,” he insisted.

      On his other side, the well-endowed friend wrapped her arm around his waist with the subtlety of a boa constrictor closing in on its prey. He tightened his buttocks when her hand crept downward.

      “He’s with me.” Tess faced down the two predators, cue in hand.

      Cole didn’t know whether to laugh or be embarrassed.

      “Too bad.”

      One of them—he didn’t know or care which—patted his butt. Any annoyance he might have felt was tempered by the fact that he’d tried to win a pool game by snuggling up to Tess’s backside.

      “Let’s go,” he said, taking her cue and her arm.

      Women, he’d learned early on, could be just as obnoxious as men when they were on the make. He had to credit Marsh for trying to protect him from the dregs of the female gender, but the old man should give him credit for some sense, not to mention taste in women.

      “Well, that was fun,” Tess muttered as he followed her out to the parking area. “Where were those two when they could’ve done my game some good?”

      “By taking my mind off mine? I don’t think so.” He didn’t tell her she was distraction enough. “How about stopping for something to eat?” He was reluctant to let the evening end although he didn’t know why.

      “No, thanks. I’ve had enough excitement for one evening.” She wasn’t exactly sarcastic, but she made her point.

      “Coffee then?” He knew he was a glutton for punishment.

      “I don’t think so.”

      “I’m pretty busy at work,” he said, slightly miffed by her refusal, “but I can be free next Saturday.”

      “Free?” She seemed distracted as she got into the truck.

      “To meet someone. You know, a date to pay off your wager,” he said, after climbing in on his side.

      “I’m surprised the barflies back there didn’t interest you.”

      “You think bimbos are my type?” She’d scored a point there.

      “No, I guess not, but in high school you did—”

      “That was ten years ago. Even the Bailey boys have to grow up eventually.” He wasn’t so sure about Zack, though.

      “Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

      “That’s okay.” He was still disgruntled, but he wanted to close the deal on the blind dates. “Maybe one date Saturday and another Sunday.”

      “How many friends do you expect me to serve up?”

      He didn’t miss the distaste in her voice, and he felt like squirming on the seat of the truck. But she’d lost the pool match, and he wasn’t going to let her welch on the bet.

      “Even though I won, I’ll be more than happy to give you a tour of the factory,” he offered, hoping to soften her resistance.

      “And a sneak preview of the new product line?”

      If seeing a bunch of baby stuff would make her less reluctant to help him, it was a small price to pay—even though it meant deluding his grandfather into thinking he cared a rat’s ass about the business. He couldn’t show the new line without going to his mother, and she was sure to mention it to the almighty chairman of the board, Marsh Bailey. Damn, life was complicated for a guy who only wanted to build houses.

      “Yes, a sneak preview,” he promised. “I’ve heard about a baby-wipe warmer that plays a lullaby. And remember how happy my mom will be if I finally meet some nice girls.”

      “I suppose anyone you’d go out with has to be good-looking,” Tess said.

      He’d only managed to mollify her for a minute.

      “Not conventionally pretty. I can appreciate an interesting face.” He felt challenged not to sound shallow.

      “Tall, short, blond, brunette?”

      “Personality is more important.” She was making him sound like the blurbs on women’s magazines by the checkout counter at the supermarket.

      “How do you define nice?” she pressed.

      “Be reasonable, Tess. It’s not about defining anything. It would be nice if she doesn’t sleep around. Is that nice enough for you?”

      “I’ve never really thought about it.”

      She sounded so prim he wanted to shock her pants off by planting a good, hard, lip-smacking kiss on her disapproving lips. Wouldn’t that be a good way to scuttle the whole plan? Just make his little matchmaker so mad she’d get him the blind date from hell.

      “I’m sure any friend of yours is a good person,” he assured her.

      “Except maybe Lucinda,” she said thoughtfully. “That was the worst bridesmaid’s dress in the history of weddings.”

      He laughed in agreement. “But you did look cute with those curls.”

      She slapped his thigh. A little gasp told him she’d acted on impulse and surprised herself.

      “One of the deadly duo in the bar slapped my butt as we were leaving,” he said, wanting her to know women stepped out of line as often as men, herself included.

      The high moral ground was a sweet perch, he discovered. He wasn’t sure whether his comment would help or hurt his cause, but even in the dark he could tell Tess’s cheeks had flushed apple red.

      3

      WHEN SHE’D HAD the chance to play pool with Cole Bailey, why didn’t she play for stakes that were fun? She thought of male pool players’ favorite come-on, a bet to see who made coffee the next morning, not that she still had a thing for one of the bad-boy Bailey twins.

      Tess continued glumly rearranging the display of Kozy Kountry bedding and accessories,