Spouse Hunting

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Spouse Hunting Page 9

by Scott, Lisa


  His hands slid around her back, and his lips hovered over hers. “I’ll be moving into that house in a month. Three bedrooms, two baths. Want to join me?”

  She tipped up on her toes. “I haven’t done this in so long, I have to do this slowly.”

  He wrapped her in a hug. “Of course. I’ll be there. Waiting for you, whenever you’re ready.”

  Blushing, she admitted another truth. “I might need help finding a cheaper apartment now that I’m a starving artist in school again.”

  He twined his fingers through her hair. “I know someone renting a beautiful art studio on their property.”

  She laughed. “Oh? What’s the rent?”

  “Maybe a painting or two to give to my best clients as a closing gift. Possibly plant a few lilac bushes so I can watch you out there sniffing them.”

  One corner of her mouth curled up. “Deal.” Her lips melted against his.

  “Told you I wouldn’t give up till you found what you wanted.”

  She rested her head against his chest. “Thank you.”

  He pulled away and looked at his watch. “Almost quitting time.” He grabbed his keys.

  “Where are you going?”

  “We are going to check on our house. Make sure the hot tub’s still working.” He held out a hand for her.

  She grabbed it. “I don’t have my bathing suit.”

  “Good.” And out came that grin. “That’s my kind of showing.”

  One Year Later…

  Elizabeth spun the diamond ring round and round on her finger and glanced out the window. “Do you think five hundred strands of twinkle lights is too much?”

  Julie laughed. “Not at all. It’s your wedding. Anything you want is fine. Really.”

  She wrung her hands. “I didn’t exactly ask for five hundred strands of twinkle lights.”

  “I know.” Julie set her arms on Elizabeth’s shoulders. “And it was incredibly gracious of you to let Henry’s mother help.”

  Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

  “Okay,” Julie laughed. “She didn’t just help, she took over the whole thing. But it’s beautiful. It’s like a scene from a movie or something down by the pond.”

  Her stomach did another flip and she tried to remember when she’d been this nervous. When I first saw Henry. She lifted the lacy hem of her gown and started pacing the room again.

  Two little girls dashed into the room, and Julie chased them with bouquets of lilacs. “Get over here, you rascals. We’re just about ready to go down for the ceremony.” She handed the girls their flowers and tucked a few stray curls back under their tiny crowns. She turned to Elizabeth. “What are we waiting for, again?”

  Elizabeth blushed. “Henry wanted to wait until the sun was setting.” He’d told her that he finally decided that’s when she looked most beautiful. Although he often changed his mind in the morning.

  Her Dad walked in the room and tapped his watch. “We almost ready?” His eyes widened as the two little girls ran circles round the room. When they ran past him, he scooped one up under each arm. “Hannah and Emily, give your big sister a little peace and quiet, girls. This is her special day.” He set the girls on the couch, walked over to Elizabeth and kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful. Your mother would have been so proud.”

  She pressed her eyes closed and nodded. “Thanks.”

  Julie’s cell rang. “We ready down there?” She nodded and gave them a thumbs up. “Henry’s mom says to come on down!”

  “Showtime,” her father said.

  Elizabeth pressed her hand against her stomach. “You were so smart eloping, Julie.”

  She squeezed her arm. “Come on, this is the fun part. You’re marrying the man you love. That’s what it’s all about, remember?”

  She took a deep breath and nodded.

  They made their way down to the pond, where Henry’s mother had a gazebo built for the ceremony. Elizabeth couldn’t wait to paint a picture of it. The huge white reception tent sparkled with all those lights, and the tables glowed with huge candles settled in dishes of sand and stones from the pond. Henry’s idea. Tiny vases of lilacs circled the candles. Her idea. But it all seemed a blur as she caught sight of him waiting for her in the gazebo.

  Dozens of people rose from their seats as she walked down the white runner rolled out along side the pond, a trail of pink rose petals leading the way. Her eyes locked on his, her heart fluttered in her throat, and by the time she reached him, they were in each other’s arms, kissing.

  The minister cleared his throat.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  Henry tipped up her chin. “Hey, when your heart knows what it wants there’s no stopping it.” And he kissed her again to the applause of the crowd.

  She smiled at him. “Thanks for helping me find it.”

  “Best deal I ever made.”

  *

  About the Author

  Lisa Scott is a former TV news anchor who now enjoys making up stories instead of sticking to the facts. She’s dreamed of writing a book ever since she was in second grade and received lavish praise from her teacher for her short story on a group of crafty elves. (“So creative!” is the exact quote.)

  When not begging her husband and two kids for a few minutes of peace to write her stories, she works as a voice actor and putters around in her koi pond and garden in upstate NY.

  Go to http://wwww.ReadLisaScott.com to learn more about works in progress and the inspiration for her stories.

  Available June 2011…

  How can a girl find true love when her best friend

  is a six-foot curvy blonde bundle of boy-nip?

  The Hot Girl’s Friend

  One of the selections from

  Heart Breaks: Short Romantic Stories Vol. 1

  By Lisa Scott

  A night out with Miranda always ended in one of two ways: she found this week’s love of her life right off the bat—and I caught an early cab home for a night of popcorn and bad cable reality shows; or I spent the entire evening fending off the smitten males whose pheromones went on high alert the moment her big toe entered the room.

  This night was going in the direction of option number two; I didn’t see any hot prospects at first glance. The bar was fairly packed, with the music thumping at a must-shout level. All eyes turned to the door when she walked in. A path cleared as six-foot tall Miranda, with her platinum blonde hair hanging past her curvy hips, wiggled her way onto the dance floor. I followed, because she couldn’t get her groove on without me. I’m a better dancer than her and she stole all her moves from me. It’s true. I’ve got that going for me at least—not that anyone noticed her five-foot-four dark haired friend with the thick ankles. Her shadow certainly swallowed me whole, but hey, not everyone wants to be in the spotlight. Suited me just fine.

  We boogied to the hip song of the moment, and soon enough a few gutsy gals joined us. Then the drunker of the men crowded the floor wondering if they should shoot for the top and approach Miranda or pick one of us “lesser” girls, like we’d be flattered that they went for us first.

  “You with the hot chick?” a short, curly-haired guy asked, bumping his hip into mine in some pretence of a dance move.

  I bumped back hard, and he had to catch his balance. “If you mean the tall blonde, yes I am.”

  “She available?”

  Shaking my head, I gave him the bad news. “Not exactly. She starts her prison sentence tomorrow. This is kind of a last hurrah”

  He scrunched his eyebrows, recalculating his next move but not quite ready to give up the chase.

  I shrugged. “I suppose she could use a pen pal. Although her ex might be writing to her, too. He seems to have gotten over the whole stabbing thing. You really only need one testicle, right?” I danced away from him and started getting my excuses ready for the string of men who would soon be lining up to meet the second most appealing woman in the bar—the hot chick’s best friend. Always a good girl to know when trying to
make your move. At least, that’s what the men seemed to think.

  A group of college guys had separated me from Miranda, but she seemed to be enjoying herself so I made my way over to the bar and collapsed on a stool.

  The bartender came over and I asked for a Coke.

  “Not drinking tonight?”

  “I need to keep my wits about me.” I grinned at him. He was cute, with wavy brown hair tucked behind his ears and bright blue eyes. Then he smiled, revealing dimples I could take a bath in. That earned him an immediate upgrade to hot.

  He nodded in Miranda’s direction. “You with the blonde? Does she want a drink?”

  I sighed. “Alcohol doesn’t mix well with her medication, and considering how contagious she is, we don’t want to mess with the meds.”

  He snapped his bar towel at me. “I’m not interested in your friend. I just thought I’d hook you two up with a drink.”

  “That’s a new one. Not interested in Miranda. Never heard that one before.”

  Shaking his head, he left to get my drink. It didn’t take long for the first poor chap to find me. He was skinny and tall with blonde hair covering his eyes. “Hey, that girl you’re with?” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  I cocked my head, confused. “Which girl?”

  He pointed to Miranda’s golden head sticking up above the crowd. “That one. The blonde. What’s her deal? She single?”

  I crossed my legs and looped my hands around my knee. “I guess you could say she’s single. But her court ordered therapist has forbidden her from dating men for a while, otherwise, it’s back to county lockup.” I shrugged. “But you never know, she might be interested. She doesn’t exactly go by the rules. Just don’t give her your real name. It’s really hard to change your identity if things don’t work out.”

  “Uh, thanks.” He scratched his head and walked to the opposite end of the bar, stealing a glance over his shoulder.

  “I’m disappointed.”

  I jumped; surprised to find the bartender leaning towards me with my drink. I was so busted, but I could play innocent just as well as I could lie. I widened my eyes. “Why?

  He slid my drink to me. “His excuse was much more clever than mine.”

  “Maybe if I knew you’d be eavesdropping tonight, I would have come up with something better for you.” I took a few cherries from the fruit tray near him and dropped them in my Coke.

  He gestured to the tray. “Do help yourself to the salad bar.”

  “That’s the plan. I like to be fancy.”

  He bent down, reappeared with a drink umbrella and stuck it in between the ice cubes. “There you go, fanciest girl in the bar. I just hope they provide your poor friend with her medication when she’s in county.”

  “Oh, they do. Medical care is in prison is much better than the plan I’ve got.” I twirled the umbrella between my fingers. “I think they give her double doses even.”

  He propped his elbows on the shiny black bar top. “How do you know she wouldn’t have wanted to meet that nice young man? He might have lovely eyes under that hair.”

  “Don’t worry. Miranda finds the ones she’s interested. I keep the rest out of her way.”

  “How kind of you. And she wouldn’t object to these inspired excuses you’re creating?” He ignored the two men standing next to me, waiting for a drink.

  “She thinks it’s hilarious. I tell her all about them at the end of the night and she picks her favorite. We’ve been friends for a long time. If I didn’t love her so much, I’d hate her.”

  “You two grow up together?”

  He was ruining my fun. “Not exactly.” That part of the story was always a downer.

  He looked at me waiting for an explanation.

  “That’s another story for another night.”

  “I’m here every weekend.”

  “I’ll jot that down in my planner.”

  He frowned at the growing drink line, held up one finger in a just-a-second gesture, and got the guys their drinks. Then he came back to me. “What’s your name, guardian of the beautiful Miranda?”

  I laughed. “Jane Jameson.”

  He held out his hand. “Brady Flynn. Pleased to meet you.”

  I shook his hand and a shiver shot down to my toes. Damn, this guy was cute and those strong hands were certainly capable of more interesting things than serving beer to clowns at a bar.

  Unfortunately, contestant number two approached before we could finish talking. I sighed dramatically.

  The guy leaned up against the bar next to me. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Oh, the old bait and switch routine. I’ll pretend I’m interested in you and then make a move on your friend. “Sure, I was just about to order a Johnny Walker Black. A double, straight up.”

  His eyes bulged but he nodded to Brady, who turned around, stifling a laugh.

  “Thanks,” I told the guy. HE was tall and well built, and might have had a shot with Miranda if not for the tongue piercing. There were certain body parts she considered sacred. The tongue was one of them so this guy was out of the running.

  Brady returned with my drink, which I let sit on the counter.

  “So, what can you tell me about your friend?”

  “Who?”

  He gave me a look. “Blondie out there. I saw you come in with her. What’s her deal?”

  I widened my eyes. “Oh my gosh! Are you interested?”

  He shrugged and smiled. “Well, yeah. Sure.”

  “You’re just her type.” I clapped and squealed. “She is going to be so excited. They just let her out of the facility.” I grabbed his arm. “Now, she hasn’t been out in the general population for what, four years now? Can I trust you to be a gentleman?”

  He pulled his arm away from me and stepped back. “Sounds like maybe it’s not the best time for her right now.”

  “Really?” I crossed my arms and pouted. “Darn it.”

  He wandered away and Brady leaned over the bar so that he was right next to my ear. “Why not just say she has a boyfriend?”

  “Because then they try even harder.”

  “Why not say she’s your girlfriend?”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Then they’re even more interested.”

  He laughed. “Must be hard, coming up with so many reasons.”

  I plucked a cherry from my Coke and popped it in my mouth. “Not really. Sometimes I try to keep a theme to my excuses. Like tonight they might all have a criminal element. That’d be fun. Or maybe I’ll stick with the medical slash mental excuses.”

  He shook his head. “A woman with a PHD in lying. Impressive. Need a refill or will be enjoying the top shelf whiskey you stuck that poor chump with?”

  “Lying for a good cause doesn’t count as lying. It’s creative protection. And keep the whiskey there it makes me look sophisticated, right?”

  “Next to the cherry Coke with an umbrella? Definitely.”

  “Thought so.” I looked for Miranda in the crowd. She had moved on from the college boys and was now dancing with a tall, red-headed guy. He didn’t stand a chance. She’d crossed red-headed guys off her list months ago. Currently, she was looking for someone Australian, since she’d never had the pleasure, or someone with yacht, since she had had that pleasure and wanted to enjoy it again. That’s when I saw another guy making a beeline for me. I swore under my breath.

 

 

 


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