Catching Claire Read Online Free PDF

Claire should check her phone. I didn’t want
to snoop in her purse, but her cell has rung ten times in the last
hour. It’s driving me nuts.”
    “Gotcha.”
    Lacey closed the door an inch. Her gaze narrowed.
“You treat her right,” she warned.
    Ridge stepped back. “I intend to.”
    “Don’t let your hot dancing turn her head. She
deserves the best.”
    “I wouldn’t hurt her. I haven’t. ”
    Lacey’s chin tipped up. “What about last night?”
    “I’m not a barbarian. She slept it off at my place,
that’s all.”
    “In the babydolls I made for her, I hope. Unless she
slept it off nude.”
    “ Yes , in the babydolls.”
    “Good. Because, well, you had some sexy moves at the
party.”
    “I’m a dancer. We’re supposed to have moves.” He
didn’t owe her further explanation.
    Lacey grinned. “Excellent. Have a great day!” The
door shut.
    Ridge shook his head. A woman no older than Claire
had just ripped into him like a mother toting a shotgun. However,
considering Claire’s offbeat behavior in the laundry room, he
couldn’t blame her friend for acting protective.
    He rode the elevator to his dad’s apartment. As he
entered, Claire exited the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a
towel and Ridge’s robe tied around her lush curves. Her shower had
rinsed the makeup off her face, and faint shadows dusted the
delicate skin beneath her eyes.
    She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He gave
her the bags.
    “Thanks.” She smiled. “Did Alicia hassle you?”
    “She wasn’t home. Something about cupcakes. You’re
to meet her at the salon.”
    “I hope nothing’s wrong at her shop. How’d you get
my stuff?”
    “Lacey had it. She said your cell’s been
ringing.”
    Claire carried the bags to the couch. She dug into
the fullest one, produced her purse, and retrieved her phone.
“Yikes, text city. I’ll check those first.” Before she could access
her texts, the cell rang. She shot him a look. “It’s Tanya.”
    Claire answered, and an agitated female voice echoed
over the phone. Claire’s face paled.
    “What?” Ridge mouthed.
    Lowering the phone to her hip, Claire murmured, “I’m
late. Tanya’s mother changed the time of the fitting.” The turban
towel tilted on her head.
    Tanya’s voice whined over the cell, “Claire, my
dress is awful! It hangs on me! Why aren’t you here when I need
you? I depend on—” Her voice cut off. “Mom!”
    An older female voice commandeered the speaker.
“Claire Merriweather, where are you? Tardiness does not
befit a maid of honor. My dear, you are unreliable .”
    Claire gasped. She returned the phone to her ear.
The towel sagged. “The fitting was at twelve, Mrs. Helms. Tanya
confirmed it last night.” The towel unraveled and fell to the
floor. Groaning, Claire stooped to retrieve it, and the cell popped
off her ear.
    The voice of Tanya’s mother hissed into the
apartment, “Thanks to you and those monster drinks, Tanya was intoxicated . She confirmed the wrong time. You should
have checked with me. How many times have I told you?”
    Leaving the towel, Claire lifted the phone to her
ear again. “I’m sorry for the mix-up, Mrs. H. I’ll be there as soon
as I can.” Worry carving her face, she hung up.
    Ridge placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just how deep
is the do-do?”
    “Grand Canyon deep,” she wailed.
    “Aw, Claire.” Heart squeezing, he pulled her into
his arms and stroked her wet hair.
     
    ~*~
     
    Thirty minutes later, the roar of the old motorcycle
rumbling through her body, Claire relaxed her hold around Ridge’s
waist as he maneuvered the noisy machine into the last unclaimed
parking spot near Bettina’s Bridal Couture. Letting out a breath,
she peeled her fingertips off the soft leather vest he’d donned
while she’d ducked into the bathroom to toss on the clothes he’d
brought and drag a comb through her soggy hair. When she’d emerged
wearing her green jacket and jeans, Ridge had presented her with