Barefoot in Lace (Barefoot Bay Brides Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the two of them.”
    He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out. I’m short on friends in this town, so…”
    She reached her hand out and laid it on his arm, right over his Greek pronouncement. “I told you, I love kids. I’d be happy to entertain her when I can. And I won’t make you shoot any more weddings after this.”
    He repositioned his hand so he could wrap his fingers around hers, his hand every bit as strong and secure as she’d imagined. “Thanks, Pink.”
    The smile pulled at her lips, their eyes locked, their fingers deliciously entwined.
    “So this is how you got him?” Rhonda Lyons’s question snapped them apart.
    Gussie sniffed a sharp breath as Tom stood, towering over the other woman and her daughter.
    Rhonda paled a little, looking up at him, all of her fight fizzling out as the impact that TJ DeMille no doubt had on most women smacked her in the face. She opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze moved from his eyes to his hair to his chest and lower and back up again. Then color returned full force to her cheeks as she finally managed to look at Gussie.
    “Can’t say I blame you.”
    “Rhonda.” Tom reached out his hand for the most accommodating and warm handshake in the history of greetings. “I can’t tell you how honored I am to photograph your daughter’s wedding.”
    The sarcasm, so subtle and sneaky, was lost on Rhonda, who still stared openly. Then Tom turned his killer smile on Hailey, a quiet young woman who’d long ago handed the reins of her wedding to her mother. “And our beautiful bride.”
    Hailey was actually speechless as she took his hand.
    Meanwhile, Gussie’s heart was slip-sliding around her chest so hard, she could have sworn she heard it crack a little. Great. Just what every girl needs…a crush on the guy who wanted to be alone, always.
    * * *
    Rhonda was a cougar with a weakness for vodka. Hailey was a pushover who let her mother run her show. Tom knew exactly how to handle those two—give one more booze and the other some sincere compliments. But the woman on his right was a bit of an enigma, making him want to finish the boring client dinner and get Gussie alone to take off some…layers.
    Leaning close to Gussie as they walked out of the restaurant, he whispered in her ear, “Let’s take a walk.”
    He felt her shudder a little. “We’re really all ready for the wedding.” In other words, she knew a walk wasn’t to talk about event logistics.
    He guided her to the door. “Ready with the bride and mother, but I still have to win over the stylist.”
    She laughed as they crossed a pavilion and kicked off their shoes, placing them on a stair that seemed to be built for the express purpose of holding shoes while their owners went barefoot on Barefoot Bay. “I’m won, trust me. I just hope you like my styling technique.”
    “You obviously know your business.”
    She waved off the compliment. “Not like some of the people you’ve worked with.”
    It wasn’t the first time she’d directed a subtle dig at herself. Why wouldn’t a woman as attractive and capable as Gussie be more confident?
    “Like Simone Friar,” Gussie continued. “What a stylist. She’s brilliant.”
    “And a bitch.”
    “Or Max Adelman, who is a genius.”
    “And always two hours late.”
    “What about Chloe Hartman? She’s got an eye for that shocking pop of color.”
    “And a penchant for pot.”
    Laughing, she elbowed him. “You’re bursting my bubble. These people are my professional idols.”
    “You could do their job and you would be sweet, on time, and not high.”
    She shrugged. “Well, I’m not doing their job. I’m a small-town destination-wedding stylist and a part-time blogger. So, let’s get real. Working with you on a shoot is kind of a professional dream come true.”
    Hearing the wistful tone, he glanced at her. “That’s your professional dream?”
    “Not now, obviously. I love this business we’ve started, but…” She