The Wedding Band Read Online Free PDF

bubbling out of her two-­sizes-­too-­small vest, let it linger long enough to show he appreciated the goods, then wrapped up the show with a rueful half smile that said, If only I didn’t have other plans for the night.
    It was the work of a moment that hit all the right notes, and when she handed him his drink, they parted with good feelings all around.
    Sipping his whiskey, he wandered the room, making small talk, passing out compliments like lollipops. Flirting perfunctorily. But he was restless. Unsatisfied.
    After a few sips, he left his whiskey on a tray. It wasn’t what he wanted.
    What he wanted was backstage.
    But panting after a woman wasn’t his style. So he forced himself to walk in the opposite direction, circling back to his folks’ table.
    He found his old man in a snit. “I suppose you fawned all over Zach, ” Roy was saying to Verna, his still-­sturdy arms crossed over his chest.
    â€œShe fawned, all right,” Kota drawled, stirring up trouble. Sixty years married and Pops still got jealous. Every man should be so lucky.
    Spinning a chair around, Kota straddled it. Ma swatted his arm, a feather fanning a tree limb. “Look who’s talking. You’re smitten with Christy.”
    â€œ ‘Smitten’? That’s a word?”
    â€œDon’t play doofus with me, Mr. Valedictorian. It’s about time a girl turned your head. You should ask her out.”
    He made a rude noise that earned another swat. He could barely feel it, but he said, “Ow,” just to humor her.
    â€œQuit trying to marry him off,” Pops grumbled. “Let him sow his oats.”
    Now Ma made the rude noise. “He’s sown oats aplenty—­”
    â€œHe’s the Johnny Appleseed of oats,” said Tana, arriving just in time to butt in.
    Straddling another chair, he clapped Kota on the back. That, Kota felt. He curled a lip at his brother, who laughed.
    â€œI was just saying,” Ma forged on, “that your brother should ask Zach’s daughter for a date.”
    Tana smirked. “I hate to tell you, Ma, but it usually works the other way around. The ladies stalk Kota.”
    â€œThis one won’t,” Ma predicted. “She’s a class act, all the way.”
    â€œIn that case”—­Tana threw down the dare—­“she won’t go out with him anyway.”
    That was the excuse Kota needed. Heaving a put-­upon sigh, he pushed back his chair.
    â€œWhere you going?” Tana asked him.
    â€œTo hit on Christy Gray, where else? Ma won’t quit till I do.”
    â€œ I do, ” Ma repeated. “Music to my ears.”
    This time Pops made the rude noise.
    Kota found Christy backstage, scribbling on a crinkled envelope.
    â€œHi,” he said.
    She leaped out of her shoes.
    He held up his hands. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook you.”
    She crushed the envelope in her fist. “If you’re looking for Dad, he’s in his dressing room.” She pointed, then set off toward her own.
    He pursued, weaving through band members and roadies loitering outside the makeshift dressing rooms. “Actually, I was looking for you. You made quite an impression on Ma.”
    â€œShe’s an extraordinary woman,” she said over her shoulder.
    â€œShe wants me to ask you out.”
    Christy stopped outside her dressing room. The canvas flap that served as a door was closed. She made no move to lift it.
    Instead, she quirked an amused brow. “Your mother does your matchmaking?”
    â€œNot usually, but the wedding’s addled her.” He twirled a finger by his temple. “She’s fragile right now. I think we should humor her.”
    Christy laughed, low and sultry and rich enough to roll around in naked.
    â€œI’m serious,” he said. “She could snap any time.”
    Again with the sultry laugh. He hooked a finger in his collar, which seemed to be shrinking