The Wedding Dress Diaries. Aimee Carson

didn’t want to be here.

      The realization hit her with all the force of a sledgehammer on steroids. It fit with what Reese had told her, the man who refused to have anything to do with the Michael family anymore. Not that Amber could blame him. But ever since her engagement, his sister had been trying to pull him back into, well, if not into the fold, at least within touching distance.

      He tipped his head with an almost boyish curiosity. ‘Do I know you?’ he said, and Amber’s heart froze. ‘I definitely think I know you.’

      He pursed his lips contemplatively, and Amber wished her memory of his mouth hadn’t been so spot on. He did have the most gorgeous lips in the world. Full. Sinful. Utterly kissable. Pretty savvy of a stupid twelve-year-old to notice, if she did say so herself.

      Enjoying the rare sense of power in Parker’s presence, she sent him another smile. ‘Maybe.’

      ‘A name would be helpful,’ he said.

      Amber let out an overly thoughtful hmm, as if she were seriously considering giving him the information. But suddenly, the moment she’d been dreading, her first meeting with Parker, was more about fun than fear.

      ‘That would be too easy,’ she said.

      Parker’s understanding smile at her tone set her pulse fluttering. ‘Okay,’ he said, settling in as if for a prolonged conversation, the light in his eyes sizzling. ‘I’ll bite.’

      God, she wished he would.

      ‘Do I know you through your work?’ he said.

      Amber bit back the smile. ‘Could be,’ she said with laughter in her tone. ‘I used to be a seamstress, but now I own my own bridal shop.’

      He actually recoiled as if slapped, and the look on his face as he backpedaled made her laugh. Clearly, Parker Robinson was offended at the thought of frequenting an establishment that dealt with weddings.

      ‘Definitely not through your work,’ he said gruffly. ‘Maybe through mine?’

      Amber pretended not to know. ‘What do you do?’

      He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I work Homicide down at the fifty-seventh precinct. Maybe I interviewed you as a witness before?’

      ‘Maybe I was once a suspect,’ she said as coolly as she could.

      The roll of his eyes, that sarcastic ‘yeah, right’ expression made her suddenly sentimental. She remembered that look from her childhood, and a small part of her was glad he hadn’t changed too much.

      ‘Do I look too innocent?’ she said.

      ‘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.