The Bridesmaid's Gifts. GINA WILKINS

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.

      Ethan woke early Sunday morning with that sense of disorientation that usually accompanied waking in a strange bed. It took him only a moment to remind himself that he was in his brother’s guest room, the only occupant of the house since Joel and Nic had left after the reception for a weeklong Caribbean honeymoon—the longest either of them could take away from their demanding careers. Ethan would stay here until they returned, at which time—assuming everything at Joel’s office was running smoothly—he would head back to Alabama.