And the real question: was she really that desperate?
Sadly, she knew the answer to that one.
“So,” he said.
She shifted her weight. “Yeah, thanks. A ride would be great.”
Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could guess what it was.
“Pick you up at five-thirty?”
“Sure.” Layla turned away before she could reconsider. Before she could wonder why her knees were knocking too hard to hold her upright.
Showing up at her ex-fiancé’s wedding with Murphy was infinitely better than showing up alone. Wasn’t it?
The story continues in A December Bride by Denise Hunter . . .
Betsy St. Amant is one Good Girl who enjoys writing about reformed Bad Boys in her romance novels. Southern gal by both choice and default, Betsy grew up in Louisiana and has an adorable preschooler who is already giving Mama a run for her money in storytelling. When Betsy isn’t writing, she can often be found consuming massive amounts of Pickle Pringles and singing along to the Tangled soundtrack with her daughter. An avid reader who is constantly wondering where Mr. Darcy went, Betsy holds a B.A. in Christian Communications, is a freelance journalist, multi-published fiction writer, and nonfiction contributor. She enjoys speaking and teaching on the craft of writing and sharing the good news of God’s grace through her stories.
A February Bride Page 9