Accidental Bride (Beaufort Brides #3)

by Noelle Adams

  “They do it on purpose,” Peter said. “They think, if they dazzle you with over-stimulation, you’ll spend more money.”

  Kelly felt better at the sound of his dry voice and the slight arch of one of his eyebrows, a distinctive look that was pure Peter. He had longish light brown hair and steel gray eyes, and he was dressed casually in worn jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, which she knew could be bought six in a pack from a discount store.

  “The only money I have to spend I’ve already promised to spend on a new outfit for tonight.”

  Peter evidently found the check-in desk because he steered them to the right. Kelly still couldn’t see anything but a lot of motion and shiny objects.

  “You’re not going to gamble at all?” Peter asked.

  “Of course not!” Kelly was outraged by the very thought. After scraping for every penny as she’d grown up, she found the idea of handing over money without knowing exactly what she’d get in return almost offensive, even if it was just for entertainment. “I’m not going to throw my money away. Anyway, Deanna would never forgive me if I didn’t spend it on a dress. She gave me a bunch of cash with strict instructions.”

  They’d made it to the front desk, but they had to wait in line before they checked in. Peter’s eyes were resting on her face as he said, “That’s good. You never do anything for yourself.”

  “Don’t you start that too. To hear my sisters talk, you’d think I was some sort of noble martyr withering away from her self-sacrifice.”

  Peter chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

  She gave him a poke in the side, since it sounded like there might have been some irony in his words.

  He had a way of talking that always hinted at something else, a deeper intent underlying his words. It was like he invariably meant more than the obvious. She liked that about him, but it sometimes made her nervous, since he was often very difficult to read.

  Kelly liked to understand people, and she didn’t always understand Peter.

  “Do I get to help you pick out a new dress?” Peter asked, stepping forward as the check-in line moved.

  “Sure, if you want to. I could go with Heidi, though. She should be here in another hour or so.” Heidi was flying in from California, where she’d been visiting her family, so her plane was arriving later. Kelly hoped she wouldn’t have to go shopping with Heidi. She liked her friend, as much as she liked Veronica, the bride-to-be, but Heidi had a taste for in-your-face-sexy clothes that would never work for Kelly.

  “I’ll go with you. I don’t have anything else to do. Owen got here earlier, but he’s probably already holed up, playing video games.”

  “Okay. Sounds good.”

  Kelly would rather hang out with Peter than almost anyone else in the world, but she suddenly felt a sliver of self-consciousness at the idea of his tagging along while she tried to pick out something sexy to wear.

  Peter didn’t think of her as sexy. She’d never thought of herself as sexy herself. She wasn’t sure how, between the two of them, they’d be able to find her something appropriate to wear.

  ***

  As Peter had predicted, Owen was already deep into a shoot-em-up video game when Peter made it up to the room they were sharing. Owen was an okay guy, but Peter had little patience with the kind of person who spent every spare minute of his life playing games.

  Peter was twenty-four, so he was a little bit older than most of the others he hung out with, all of whom were still in college. When Peter had been eighteen, instead of going to college, he’d taken off to hitchhike his way through Europe, and then he’d kept traveling through Asia and Australia—mostly because he hadn’t wanted to go home.

  His family was old money, and they had most of the bad habits that came with it. He’d felt smothered by the pressure and all the expectations, and so he’d finally just walked away.

  When he’d come back, he’d been determined to earn his own living, so he was working full-time so he could pay for college, which was why he still hadn’t graduated. He wasn’t remotely tempted to go back and live off his family’s money, but sometimes he felt like a babysitter, surrounded by people younger than him, with a lot fewer life experiences.

  Except for Kelly, of course. Everything was different with Kelly.

  Owen glanced away from his game long enough to point toward the bed he’d claimed as his. Then Peter put his bag down and sat on the other bed.

  He hated Vegas. It just wasn’t his idea of a good time. If Kelly hadn’t decided to come, Peter would have found some excuse not to go too. He’d much rather be biking or hiking or traveling somewhere with a history and culture that gave it real depth—or even sitting at home watching TV.

  But he was here now, and he knew Kelly was excited about the trip. She’d never really gotten the chance to go anywhere. Sometimes, he wanted to shake her grandmother for never giving her a chance to have any fun.

  He was thinking about Kelly and how she might look in a new dress tonight when his phone rang.

  He almost didn’t pick it up when he saw it was his mother, but then guilt caught up to him, so he answered the call after all, moving into the bathroom so he could have some privacy, although Owen seemed completely unaware of his presence.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Peter, where are you? Are you out of town?”

  “Why do you ask that?” She always seemed to know what he was doing. Occasionally, he suspected that she had spies on him.

  “Jess said you weren’t at work.”

  Jess was his younger sister, who came to see him sometimes at the hotel where he worked.

  “Yeah, I’m out of town. A friend is getting married in Vegas this weekend, so we came out too.”

  “Vegas? Well, don’t do anything dangerous there.” His mother was old-school southern, with the heavy accent and notions of propriety that came with it. “Did your young lady come with you?”

  “She’s my friend, not my young lady. But, yes, she’s here too.”

  “I don’t know why you never take her by to meet us.”

  Peter managed not to groan. “I have a lot of friends you never meet.”

  “Of course, dear. But she’s special, isn’t she?”

  He didn’t answer, partly because he was embarrassed that his mother had been able to read him so easily and partly because he didn’t know what to say. Of course, Kelly was special. But no one in the world knew that—particularly not Kelly.

  “A mother can tell,” his mother added. “I don’t understand what young men are thinking these days—sitting around and hoping a lady will just drop into their laps from on high. You have to step up, dear, and pursue her, if you’re really interested in her.”

  “Mom—”

  “I know, I know. It’s none of my business. I just worry about you, all by yourself out there.”

  “I’m not all by yourself. You didn’t expect me to still be living with you at twenty-four, did you?”

  “I don’t see why not. You know, Martha Harris’s son still lives at home, and he’s almost thirty. You’d be so much more comfortable here, or we could buy you a nice place of your own, if you’d just—”

  “I don’t want to join Dad in business,” he gritted out. “I don’t want to live on money I didn’t earn. Why is that so hard to understand?”

  “Well, you don’t have to be mean about it.”

  Peter bit back another groan. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how many times we have to have the same discussion.”

  “Maybe one day you’ll change your mind. I know you want to do hotel management, but your Dad and I could buy—”

  “I don’t want you to buy me a hotel!”

  Occasionally, Peter would wonder if he should just accept his parents’ help. He and Kelly had talked for a long time about running a property together—planning out the details of how it would work and what each of them would do. He loved that idea, and he would be thrilled to have it happen more quickly.

  But, at eighte
en years old, he’d made the resolution that he would earn his success on his own, and nothing in the last six years had changed his mind about it. He’d been steadily saving his money from his job so he could afford a down payment on a modest property when he graduated. It would be a start, and it would be his alone.

  “Okay. Okay. I just hate to see you struggling.”

  “I’m not struggling. I’m working, like most people do. And I haven’t finished college yet, anyway. I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise I’m not starving.”

  “Do you have enough money to take your young lady out? You know a woman needs to be wooed, if you’re going to—”

  “I’m not wooing her, Mom!”

  Most people would never be in the position to speak those words out loud, but this was his life, and it wasn’t likely to change.

  She clicked her tongue. “Well, that’s your problem, dear. You’ve got to woo her, if you’re ever going to win her.”

  Peter wasn’t ready for that yet. He didn’t have his degree yet, and he didn’t have enough money saved up to really start a life. Plus, Kelly had never once looked at him in any way except as a friend.

  Maybe that would change one day, but he wasn’t going to ruin what they had if there wasn’t any hope for something more.

  “I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “Okay. Be good, dear.”

  Peter was shaking his head as he hung up the phone. Surely most guys at his age didn’t have their mothers still calling them up and telling them to be good.

  He’d already hurt his family enough by his decision not to go into the family business or accept any of the family money. The least he could do was answer his mother’s calls.

  He and Kelly had agreed to meet in a half-hour, and it had only been twenty minutes, but he was bored and restless, so he left the room and knocked on Kelly’s room across the hall.

  In a few seconds, she swung the door open, smiling at him.

  His heart gave a familiar little twitch. “I’m early.”

  “That’s okay. There was nothing for me to do in here anyway, except call Grandmama.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “She’s fine. Deanna is staying with her for the weekend. Grandmama told me not to let any stray suitors follow me home, so you’ll have to keep your eye out for them.”

  Peter chuckled. If he thought his mother was bad, she was nothing compared to Kelly’s grandmother. “I’ll do my best to beat them off for you.”

  “Let me grab my purse, and I’ll be ready to go.”

  Peter watched as Kelly bent over to pick up her purse. Her ass was small and tight and rounded beneath her jeans, and he felt the irresistible urge to touch it. And also her long legs and her breasts and her face and her hair.

  But that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.

  She came back to him, still smiling warmly—like she liked him, like she wanted to be around him, like she wanted to keep him in her life.

  But not like she wanted him in bed with her.

  As far as he knew, she’d never thought about him that way even once.

  He didn’t think he was a bad-looking guy. Girls seemed to like him well enough, even if they didn’t know or care that he was “one of those Blakes.”

  He wished a miracle would happen one day and Kelly would see him as more than a friend.

  If she gave him even one little sign, he would pursue her exactly as his mother had advised.

  But, without at least a sign that she would be receptive, it was too big a risk to take.

  ***

  An hour later, Kelly was staring at a rack of dresses, desperately trying to find one that looked even a little bit like her.

  There was nothing.

  All of the dresses were too short, too low cut, too stretchy, too clingy, too sparkly, too wildly colored, or too all-of-those-things-at-once.

  She reached for one that was more calmly colored in a solid blue, but then she groaned when she saw it had a diamond-shaped cut-out in the front that would display half of her breasts and most of her belly.

  Peter laughed and grabbed the dress from her before she could put it back.

  “Don’t laugh,” Kelly said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I didn’t see the front.”

  “You should try it on,” he said, his gray eyes still warm and amused. “I’d pay good money to see you in it.”

  “You shouldn’t make fun of me.”

  “I’m not making fun.” Peter’s smile faded. “Why would I be making fun?”

  She didn’t understand why he looked so confused, since the reason should be obvious. “Because I can’t wear dresses like that.”

  “Of course, you could, if you wanted to. You’ve got a good body.”

  She snorted and snatched the dress away from him. There was no reason to feel embarrassed, but she did.

  “You do,” he insisted, turning to look through another rack of dresses. “You’re thin and you’ve got great legs. You could pull off any of these dresses.”

  Now she was blushing, which was annoying, since she wasn’t the sort of girl who blushed. But Peter had never mentioned her legs before—or any other part of her body. She didn’t even know he’d recognized that she had legs. She kept her face turned away from Peter, so he couldn’t see her expression. “But they’re not my style.”

  “I know. But I thought your sisters told you to branch out and try something different. What about this one?” He pulled a dress off the rack and showed it to her.

  She stared at it, her eyes widening. “I can’t wear that.”

  “Why not?”

  The dress was tiny—very short with halter straps and a low neckline. It wasn’t as garish as some of the others, but there was a sheen to the pine green fabric, and she was pretty sure it would fit very tight.

  “The color would look good on you. Try it on.” He pushed the dress on her, so she had to accept it, and since she didn’t see anything that looked better, she went grumbling to the dressing room.

  Peter waited outside while she pulled off her jeans and top and stared at the little dress.

  What the hell was she thinking? She wasn’t the kind of person who could ever wear a dress like this.

  “Stop stalling,” Peter said from outside the stall. “Just put it on.”

  “You’ve gotten really bossy lately,” she told him, pulling the dress on and praying it wasn’t going to be as bad as she thought. Peter would probably insist on seeing how she looked in it. She wasn’t a vain person—at all—but she also didn’t want him to think she looked stupid.

  “It’s just a dress,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts. “How bad could it be?”

  It wasn’t bad at all, Kelly realized as she zipped up the dress. It fit perfectly, and her bare legs looked very long and slim beneath the high hemline. She even looked like she had pretty good boobs, since the neckline accentuated her cleavage.

  She stared at herself in surprise, feeling an unexpected swell of pleasure that she was capable of looking so sexy.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?” Peter asked. “Let me see.”

  “Hold on.” At the sound of his voice, she was immediately self-conscious. Was she really going to open the door and show him how she looked in this dress? Was she really going to wear it in public? She wasn’t the kind of person who could pull off a dress like this.

  What she needed was a sweatshirt to wear over it. Then she’d feel more like herself.

  “Open up,” Peter demanded. “Let me see.”

  With a sigh, she opened the door and stepped out, automatically pulling on the straps to hitch up the neckline.

  She was too uncomfortable to look at Peter, so she stared at herself in the larger mirror at the end of the dressing room.

  Except for the long brown braids she always wore, she looked like someone else.

  “Well,” she demanded, when Peter didn’t say anything. “Is it too bad?”

  She finally dared to look ov
er at him, and she saw he was staring at her very strangely. Intense. His eyes moved up and down over her body.

  She nervously tugged down the hemline.

  “It’s not bad at all,” Peter said at last, his voice slightly hoarse. He raised his eyes to look at her face. “You should get it.”

  “Are you sure? It’s not really me.”

  “That was the point, wasn’t it? Get the dress.”

  Of course it was. She was supposed to look sexy for once, and she’d found a dress to do that. She must look all right, or Peter wouldn’t keep staring at her the way he was.

  She pushed aside her embarrassment and nodded. “Okay.” She went back into the stall and pulled the dress off. She checked the price one more time to verify she could afford it with the money Deanna had given her, and then she put her clothes back on.

  When she and Peter went to pay for the dress, she said, “This feel very strange.”

  “What does?”

  “Buying a dress like that.”

  “Why is it so strange?”

  “Because I’ve never gotten something like that before.”

  “Well, you should have. You need to do some more nice things for yourself.”

  He sounded oddly defensive, which struck her as very sweet. He always looked out for her. Only her sisters had done that before Peter had come into her life. Feeling a swell of affection, she gave Peter a quick, one-armed hug.

  He returned the hug with both of his arms, and it lasted longer than she’d expected. But it was nice. He was warm and hard and he smelled really good—like clean laundry and the outdoors. “What was that for?” he murmured.

  She pulled away. “That’s to thank you for going shopping with me.”

  “I didn’t have anything better to do.”

  “I know. But I appreciate it. Are you sure I look okay in this?”

  “Shit, Kelly,” he muttered. “Would you stop asking? You look like a wet dream in that dress. How can you not know that?”

  She stared at him, completely shocked by the words, by the idea. He’d sounded grumpy and impatient—not like he was trying to make her feel better—so he must have really meant what he said.