Crashing the Congressman’s Wedding (Crimson Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

drew a man into her spotlight, and the ensuing chaos of her family life threatened to bring the man down. A Mitchell couldn’t take that risk. And yet, here he was … with the vanilla scent of her perfume stealing every last bit of fresh air from his car.
    He threw open the door and took a deep breath. “I’ll grab the suitcases. You head into the lobby. Hopefully we won’t be seen.” He didn’t expect to be recognized hundreds of miles from home, but he’d taken enough chances already.
    As he rummaged in the trunk, Alice wandered away from the car. When he flung the last bag over his shoulder, he saw her disappear around the corner of the building — in the opposite direction of the double doors.
    What now? Why couldn’t she be simple, easy, uncomplicated? Why the drama all the time?
    “Hey,” he called after her, glancing back at the dog staring at him from the back seat.
    With a huff, Justin dumped the bags in the trunk and restarted the car to give the dog some cool air. Then he set out to see what sort of trouble Alice was getting into.
    He found her neck deep in the ocean.
    Alice jumped a wave, and Justin was assaulted by a flash of creamy skin and black lace. She was swimming in her underwear. Catching sight of a pile of clothes out of water’s reach, Justin shook his head. Apparently, she had ditched her dress. Why was he not surprised?
    “What are you doing?” he called above the surf.
    She flashed him a smile he hadn’t seen in years. “I’ve never been to the ocean.”
    His untucked shirttails whipped in the wind, and with the strength of his hands he fought the chaos. “I guess that explains it.”
    She stayed smiling, considering him with the same hypnotic eyes he knew as a child. Back then, he wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Now, he was afraid to know the answer.
    “I’m going to get the bags and the dog out of the car, and then I’ll bring you a towel. Be careful. No further. You hear? In fact, stay closer to the beach. The undertow is strong, and I’d like to avoid another rescue.”
    A few steps up the beach and her wail hit his back. “I don’t need to be rescued.”
    But she did. Somebody had to keep her from making rash decisions, like stopping weddings and swimming in the ocean half-dressed. He slowed his pace and closed his eyes. That someone couldn’t — shouldn’t — be him. On an inhale, he opened his eyes and returned to the surf. “Fine. No more rescues.”
    “Good, because I’m not a baby. I can take care of myself. Stop telling me what to do. Stop treating me like you’re my father or my brother. You’re not. You’re just a guy. I’m just a girl. And you make life too complicated.” She raised her arms to her side and fell backwards into the sea.
    Justin’s heartbeat quickened as he searched the choppy water, waiting for her to surface. Her father died an alcoholic and her brother looked destined to follow. Not being lumped in their category was a good thing, but where did that leave him?
    Relief flooded him when her head broke the surface. She pushed soggy curls from her face, and raising her arms over head, spun until a wave knocked her off her feet. She was definitely not a baby. But if he was just a guy and she was just a girl, then bringing her with him was an even bigger risk. He had obligations, expectations and an image to uphold. In trying to avoid a scene at the church, he’d put himself in one hell of a compromising situation.
    The cell phone resting in his pants pocket vibrated like it had so many times on the drive down. He watched Alice play in the waves as he listened to messages. Two calls related to the agricultural committee he served on. One call came from an aide, congratulating Justin on his marriage. One was from an arts council member, returning his call about Alice’s application. There was one message from his brother, Will, one from his brother, Mark, two from Morgan, and only four from his mother.
    Justin felt a