The Wedding Gift Read Online Free PDF Page A

his expression and a warming in his eyes, and it occurred to her that he was enjoying himself. Some men puffed up their chests or swaggered in order to be noticed. Riley’s self-confidence was more subtle.
    Someone jostled her from behind and a loud whooping sounded from the group at the pool table. Three middle-aged men yelled at the ref on a television mounted on the wall, drinks were plunked down, a blender started. Sitting in this bar in thistown of strangers, her elbows on the marred countertop, the heel of one boot hooked over the rung of her stool, she felt a weight lifting.
    â€œI met a friend of yours today,” she said. “Kipp Dawson could use some training in social graces.”
    â€œI’ll let you tell him.”
    She shook her head. “I’m pretty sure he threatened me.”
    â€œKipp threatens everyone.”
    She found herself staring at Riley’s mouth. It was broad, the lower lip just full enough to entice a second look. “He told me he has your back.”
    â€œWhat else did he say?” he asked.
    â€œI won’t repeat it verbatim, but he was very poetic.”
    He leaned closer, as if to tell her a secret. “The only time Kipp waxes poetic is when he’s referring to sex.”
    Was he flirting with her? Her heart fluttered wildly at the thought. “Just so there’s no confusion,” she said, her beer a few inches from her mouth. “I’m not sleeping with you.”
    â€œMadeline?”
    They were nearly shoulder to shoulder now, their bottles raised, gazes locked. “Yes?”
    â€œI didn’t ask you to.” He took his time taking a long drink, set his beer back on the bar, then added, “But I was thinking about it.”
    Her beer remained suspended in midair. Her mindremained blank. With two fingers placed gently beneath her chin, Riley closed her mouth for her.
    â€œOnce more,” she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest, her gaze still on his.
    â€œPardon me?”
    â€œThat’s my answer.”
    â€œWhat was the question?” he asked.
    â€œHow many more times will my mouth go slack today?”
    He didn’t quite smile, but she thought he wanted to. Feeling a curious swooping pull in the pit of her stomach, she raised her beer to her lips and drank it down.

Chapter Three
    â€œA re you okay over there?” Riley asked as he backed out of a parking spot behind Sully’s.
    Huddled low in his passenger seat, Madeline forced her eyes open and tried to focus on the lighted dials on the dash. “It must have been that last margarita.”
    â€œMore like the last three margaritas,” he said. “You and your friends were the life of the party. The bartender said their karaoke machine hasn’t seen that much action all year.”
    She held a hand to her forehead, remembering. Madeline had jumped in to harmonize as Ruby sangthe greatest Pat Benatar song of all time, “Hit Me with Your Best Shot.”
    And somebody had, a shot of tequila for each of them, that is. Things were a little blurry after that. She couldn’t quite recall how she came to be missing one earring. Was she wearing Riley’s jacket? Where was hers?
    Moaning softly, she said, “This is why I don’t drink.”
    â€œI saw how you don’t drink.”
    She considered telling him a gentleman wouldn’t have mentioned that, but then he probably would have said a gentleman hadn’t, and she just wasn’t up to that kind of banter. When his tires splashed through a pothole, she placed a hand over her poor stomach.
    â€œHold on,” he said. “These streets are coming apart. I can turn the radio on if you think it’ll help, but if I go any slower, we’ll be moving backward through time, and I doubt you want to relive the past ten minutes.”
    â€œWhat I want is someone to start an IV to put me in a medically induced coma.”
    â€œSo it’s