Read My Best Friend's Bride Online

Authors: Ginny Baird

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BOOK: My Best Friend's Bride
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In retrospect, Jill understood that she and Isaac were never right for each other. Isaac was uptight and exacting. Plus, he was exceptionally withdrawn, typically keeping his emotions to himself, while Jill was open and expressive. Much better that Isaac wound up with the conservative and tight-lipped Felicity—or whatever the new woman’s name was—someone equally contained and perfunctory. Jill was provided with far more spontaneity and affection by Fifi than she’d ever gotten from Isaac. The dog had been a bit of a rascal in the beginning, but had turned out to be a wonderful pet once she’d settled in.
Just look at how well Fifi and Mimi get along,
she thought, as Mimi swatted at Fifi again and Fifi bounded backward.

Jill hauled the heavy vacuum cleaner out the closet and grabbed a nearby bucket of cleaning supplies. The guestroom would need a thorough scrubbing down before it would be habitable by any human, much less one who initially didn’t want to live here. Jill was grateful to Hunter for conceding on this point, and intended to see that her pets made the best of it. She’d set up a nice sleeping station for the two of them in the corner of the laundry room, complete with a new climbing tower for Mimi and an overstuffed dog bed for Fifi. She planned to place extra toys and treats in there for them as well, until they got the hang of staying in their new digs. Jill seriously hoped Hunter had been joking when he claimed an allergy to cats. She intended to run all the guest room linens through the laundry an extra time in hot water, just in case.

 

Three hours later, they were almost done with their task. Morgan turned from wiping the last windowpane with cleaner and a paper towel. “It’s hard to believe it’s the same place!” Jill had to give her credit. She really could get down and dirty when the occasion called for it. Morgan was not only a dynamite agent, but also a great friend.
 

Jill sighed with satisfaction and set her hand on her hip, gazing around the room. Everything was neatly in place, and not a speck of pet hair remained. The bedspread and futon cover had each been through the wash and dry cycle twice, and looked immaculate. “I can’t thank you enough for your help,” she told Morgan. “It really does look terrific.”

Morgan chucked her paper towel into the brimming garbage bag they planned to haul from the room. “So?” she asked eagerly. “You going to tell Mr. Hot Stuff he’s moving into pet central?”

Jill shoved a few last things into the trash bag and knotted it. “Of course not. As far as I can see, there’s no reason for Hunter to know.”

“No,” Morgan agreed. “As long as he’s not allergic or anything.”

A lump caught in Jill’s throat. Surely, Hunter wasn’t. “I…don’t think so,” she said, uncertainly. “Besides, we cleaned up very well! Laundered everything twice!”

“You’re right,” Morgan agreed. “That should do it. But even if Hunter
loves
pets, he might feel…awkward knowing he’s displaced them.”

“But, how would—?”

Morgan scooped the framed pet photos off the tables that held them and handed them to Jill. “Oh.”

“It might be best to put these somewhere else,” Morgan suggested. “Like...in the laundry room?”

 

Brad picked up some packing tape and used it to seal another moving box. “I’ve got to say I’m pretty surprised you let her talk you into it.” He glanced around the glitzy contemporary apartment, admiring the huge leather sofa with comfy side chairs and the enormous sliding glass door that opened onto a balcony overlooking the city. “I thought you loved this place.”

“I do,” Hunter answered, “but I love certain other things more.”

“Like?”

“Like…the sound of…” Hunter smiled wistfully. “Abrams and Delaney Advertising.”

“It does have kind of a ring to it,” Brad agreed.

“A
ca-ching
,
ca-ching
ring,” Hunter responded. “When I make partner, my income goes up.”

“I like the way you said
when
and not
if.

 

“I’ve always been an optimistic guy.”

Hunter sorted through some CDs and placed them back in their slots on a shelf. He had most of the music he liked downloaded to his laptop and personal devices anyway. No need to take these. “It’s not just about the money, you know,” he said turning to Brad. “I really want this promotion.”

“You’re the best one for it. I can’t believe Max actually considered tapping that weasel Fred.”

“I’m not convinced that’s the way he wanted it. Max was under pressure from Kaleidoscope Kids.”

“How do you know you and Jill won’t start feeling some of that
pressure
to produce a few kids of your own? Isn’t that part of the expectation?” Brad teased. “That you’ll be in a
family way
?”

“Married means family,” Hunter stated reasonably. He hefted an old football trophy into his hands, examining it in the natural light of the windows. “You can’t get much more related than that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re taking your old sports trophies with you?”

Hunter studied the lettering on the plaque:
Most Valuable Player
of his graduating class year. It had been the first time Hunter had truly felt successful at something, and he’d accomplished it all on his own by rising early for extra workouts before the seven a.m. start of his prep school classes. He’d become determined to be the best goal kicker in the history of the elite institution, and, after driving himself hard—through snow, mud, and rain—he’d accomplished that objective. It wasn’t just about football; it was about what Hunter could achieve when he put his mind to it. It didn’t matter that his parents never attended a single game, while the other boys routinely had their families in the stands. It was the lesson Hunter had learned that counted. And that lesson was, Hunter could get anything if he wanted it badly enough. He’d gotten into an excellent college, interned for various companies, worked hard to keep his grades high—and secured a super job immediately upon graduation. Hunter knew how to play just about any game that life could toss at him. But basically, it had all started with football.

Feeling a sentimental tug in his chest, Hunter dusted off the trophy and set it in a packing box. “I’m only taking this one,” he said, answering Brad. Then, to mask any hint of emotion, he added, “Might use it as a paperweight or something.” He sealed up a few cartons of his own and turned to his friend, who was piling up other boxes in the corner beside a well-padded large-screen television. “And what’s all this talk about family, anyway? Weren’t you the one giving me the hands-off speech when it came to Jill?”

“Yeah, but that’s before I saw that magazine cover. Honestly, man, I had no clue she was that into you.”

“You were standing right there!”

“Cassandra’s camera caught the kiss at a better angle.”

“Cassandra’s gifted, I’ll give her that. I didn’t even see a long-lens camera, but she managed to get that close-up somehow.”

“Maybe she enhanced it in Photoshop?” Brad suggested.

Hunter recalled every inch of Jill’s body torridly pressed to his, her lips and mouth on fire. But he wasn’t sharing those details with Brad. He’d probably already shared enough. The truth was, Hunter kind of liked Jill. And when he liked a woman, he tended to keep amorous details concerning the lady to himself. Perhaps he’d dished a little to Brad before, but things seemed different now that Jill was really becoming his wife. They’d both signed a contract. It was happening. Plus, she’d looked awfully sweet when she’d petitioned Hunter about speaking with her grandfather. For some reason Hunter hadn’t been able to get that look in her eyes out of his mind. That, and the vision of her long, lovely legs tapering toward those menacing heels… Jill Jamison was a woman he’d have to treat right. It occurred to Hunter that buying a backup phone charger might not be a bad idea. “Maybe.”

Brad set his last box on top of the heap by a collection of hanging bags and suitcases. “You guys sure have fast-tracked your elopement.”

“Jill says the sooner we start our year of wedded bliss, the sooner we can end it. I’ve got to admit she has a point.”

“Everything’s happening next Friday?”

“The ceremony’s Friday. That’s when we could get the judge. My movers come Saturday morning.”

“Who’s standing up for you guys? Don’t you need witnesses or something?” Brad asked. He tried to sound casual about it, but Hunter could tell Brad feared for a moment that Hunter might not extend the offer to him.

“Jill’s already asked Morgan.” He strode toward his buddy and patted his shoulder. “And I wouldn’t undergo a fake marriage with anyone else at my side.” He eyed Brad uncertainly. “That is, if you can get the morning off?”

“No worries. I’ll put in a sub plan.” Brad paused reflectively, then stunned Hunter by wrapping his arms around him. “I can’t believe this!” he cried, gripping Hunter in a tight bear hug. “You’re getting hitched!” Holy cow, Brad was practically squeezing the wind out of him.

“And you never thought I’d bite the bullet.” Hunter wheezed, struggling out of Brad’s hold.

“But here you go!” For some odd reason, Brad was beaming brightly.

“What are you so happy about?”

“You and Jill together. It somehow just hit me. Hunter, I know that this sounds nuts, but what if by some incredible miracle you and she—?”

“Bite your tongue,” Hunter said. “Jill Jamison and I have cut a deal, a deal that involves
separate bedrooms,
as you’ll recall. Not too long ago, you worried over protecting the woman’s virtue.”

“I still care about Jill!” Brad protested hotly. “The truth is I care about both of you!”

“Then it would be good of you to keep our secret, and not try to complicate things by implying they might develop into something more than they are. Jill didn’t want me twelve years ago, like she doesn’t want me now, not in any sort of serious romantic way. That’s what makes this charade easy. Jill and I are both very clear on where we stand.” Hunter’s conscience winced as he recalled his response to Jill’s kiss. Okay, so maybe he couldn’t fault himself for that. He was only human, after all, and male. A physical reaction didn’t mean anything. How many times had he experienced that with other women, only to have the prospect of any real relationship fizzle?
 

“But what about that kiss? I thought you said in the bar that—?”

“I know what I said, but I could have been mistaken. Who knows? Maybe Jill just reacted to me like she would have to any available guy? The way I reacted to her as an attractive woman? Perhaps she had a brief lapse…experienced a moment of carnal weakness, but that’s all that it was, a simple mistake. Fortunately, I’m the forgiving sort. One kiss means nothing in the scheme of things, my friend. Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.”
 

Brad twisted his lips in a frown. “It’s a good thing Cassandra can’t hear you talking, because your cover would be blown.”

“That reminds me!” Hunter snapped his fingers. “Since you know her, would you mind calling Cassandra and inviting her to the wedding?”

“You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. Please let her know it’s next Friday morning at ten o’clock. Sugar Hollow courthouse. No other press is allowed. Jill and I are offering her an exclusive.”

Brad stared at him. “You really mean that?”

“You betcha. The whole thing was Jill’s idea. And, honest to goodness?” Hunter grinned. “I think it’s brilliant.”

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

Hunter and Jill entered the lobby of the assisted living building at Green Meadows Retirement Village. It was called a
cottage,
but seemed much more expansive than that, with inviting common areas, a large resident dining room, and a landscaped central courtyard. Jill had explained to Hunter on the way over that the building’s design allowed for each resident’s private bedroom to overlook a flowering green area. It was easy to see why Jill felt so good about having her grandpa here. A uniformed woman with a pleasant face and a name tag that read “Hilda” looked up from her seat behind the reception desk. A large vase of Asiatic lilies perched beside the sign-in book, giving off a sweet scent that perfumed the air. “Good afternoon, Miss Jamison,” Hilda said, recognizing her at once. She checked the calendar on the wall, scanning the list of activities for Thursday. “Your grandfather’s just finishing up his morning exercise. You can find him in the gym.”

Jill thanked the woman and led Hunter through a common area where a foursome sat by a window playing cards. They all looked up with happy smiles when they saw Jill approaching. As she passed, she greeted them each by name. “You’re quite a regular here, I take it?” Hunter asked as they traversed a broad hallway with built-in handrails on either side.

“I come by every Wednesday and Sunday,” she told him. “Whether or not my grandpa’s expecting me. Most days, he still does.”

Hunter nodded, knowing Jill was referring to her granddad’s memory problems. She’d told him that they were getting worse, though she was hoping today would be a good day. Hunter found it admirable that Jill cared for her grandfather as she did. She was apparently the only family the old man had and vice versa, and she took her responsibility toward him seriously. The fact that she visited regularly showed a sense of commitment. Hunter wondered vaguely what that was like, feeling committed toward someone in that way. So far in his life, Hunter had been responsible for no one but himself.
 

Apart from providing early financial support, his parents had never apparently felt much obligation toward him. That was one reason Hunter had decided to become financially independent as soon as possible. Though his dad would have been happy to stroke a check for college, Hunter felt more comfortable tackling his academic bills on his own. He’d won some scholarships and had waited tables on weekends and in the evenings after classes in order to get by. That was far better in his mind than accepting further charity from his parents. He’d never really wanted their money anyway. Perhaps in a manner he resented it, as it was the only thing they’d appeared willing to provide.

The double doors to the gym were propped open. Just as they entered, a uniformed nurse pushing a wheelchair approached them. She exchanged a greeting with Jill while the face of the elderly man in the chair lit up. “Well, look who’s here!” Mr. Jamison warmly extended his arms toward his granddaughter and she rushed into a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Hi, Grandpa,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re looking snappy today!”

BOOK: My Best Friend's Bride
3.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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