From the Start Page 7

  “No-fly list? That’s funny.” He took a long drink from his lemonade. “Do I get a prize?”

  “Only if you score in the bonus round.”

  He smiled while rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain. “Okay. I’m game. What’s the last one?”

  She leaned across the table to stare into his eyes. “Do you live with your mother?”

  His smile slipped and he rested his arms on the table. “No, I don’t,” he said matter-of-factly. “Mostly because my mother died when I was ten.”

  Kacie gasped and her insides did a complete, anxious rollover. “Are you messing with me?”

  He remained silent and took another sip of his drink.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Kacie folded her arms over the tabletop and buried her face. “God, I’m such an ass,” she said into the scarred wood.

  She felt his hand on her forearm and she looked up. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. That was mean of me and I know you were just joking. Please don’t worry about it.”

  Although he said it was okay, and the look on his face seemed sincere, she imagined her words had to sting a little bit at least.

  “If it were me in your shoes, I would’ve bounced a long time ago. First, I acted like a lunatic. Then I was all smug and superior. And then I followed it up by insulting your dead mother.”

  He smiled again. Not that brilliant, hypnotic version, but a nice one just the same. “What are you talking about? You didn’t insult my mother.”

  She couldn’t keep from shaking her head in disbelief. “Why are you even still sitting there?”

  “Because I like you.” He reached across the table and took her hand in both of his. “I like that you’re smart. I like that you’re funny. I like that you don’t take crap from anyone. I like that you have some dating standards, even if they are working against me at the moment.” He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “But most of all, I like the fact that I’ve had one hell of a week and today wasn’t going any better until you placed your hand on my arm and invited me to sit at your table.”

  They sat in silence for a long moment as Kacie let his words sink in. It was the single-most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her. Not even old-Mike came close to anything that nice, and he’d had seven years’ worth of opportunities.

  For a moment, she thought, maybe even hoped, he was going to ask her out again. And this time she would not have the willpower to turn him down. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, her cell phone buzzed in her backpack.

  As she reached down to grab it, she caught sight of the textbook she’d been reading earlier. The one for her fellowship. In North Carolina. The fact she was leaving in a matter of weeks wouldn’t change, and her previous reasons for turning him down the first time still applied now.

  Kacie checked the text message. “I’m sorry, but I have to meet my sister for wedding shoe shopping in thirty minutes.”

  “You sound very unexcited. I thought most women liked shoe shopping?”

  “Ordinarily, yes. But this shoe purchase requires bride approval.”

  Michael pointed to her phone on the table. “May I?”

  She wasn’t sure of his intent but allowed him to have it anyway, scooting it across the tabletop. He picked it up, swiped the lock screen with his thumb, and began tapping away. Within a matter of seconds he handed the phone back.

  Kacie narrowed her eyes at him. “What did you do?”

  “I put my number in your contacts. Under ‘G.I. Joe’ to avoid any potential confusion.”

  She stared at the phone she now held in her hand. “Why did you do that?”

  “Just in case you change your mind and decide to disregard that no-fly list of yours.”

  He stood up from his chair and leaned across the table, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. A kiss not unlike the one he gave her when he came to her rescue the night of the bachelorette party. “Thanks again for the company this morning, sunshine. I really needed it.”

  “You’re leaving? Just like that?”

  “The ball is in your court, Kacie. I hope to hear from you.”

  Of course he flashed her one of those dazzling smiles. Then, without another word, he turned around and walked out of the café.

  Chapter Eight

  Kacie removed the ice blue chiffon dress from its hanger and slipped it on over her head. It was a beautiful color her sister had selected for the bridesmaid dresses, not to mention the light, flowy fabric suited the hot Georgia summers. As far as bridesmaid dresses went, it was actually very nice.

  There was a tap on the louvered dressing room door. “Are you ready to be zipped?”

  “Yes, thank you,” she answered.

  The door swung open and a tall, willowy woman made her way inside and held out her hand. “I’m Della. Am I to understand you are the maid of honor?” she said in a slow, sugared, southern drawl.

  “Yes, I’m Kacie,” she said, shaking the woman’s hand.

  Kacie had to say Della was the epitome of southern style. Her snow white hair was gathered into a sophisticated twist and her makeup was impeccable.

  “Well, I must commend your sister on selecting such a lovely shade of blue. It’s simply stunning with your coloring. I hope the other bridesmaids are as fortunate.”

  Instinctively, Kacie turned her back to the woman and lifted her hair up. Della gathered the two sides of fabric in one hand as she tugged on the zipper with the other. Almost immediately the dress felt uncomfortably tight.

  “Oh dear, this dress seems a bit snug,” Della said. “I hope I didn’t give you the wrong one. Let me double-check.” She unzipped the dress, peeked at the tag, and then excused herself to go look at her files.

  Of course, Kacie knew exactly what she would find. That it was her dress, and they’d ordered the correct size. Her current situation was what Sam had predicted nearly two weeks earlier—that the chocolate bingeing would eventually bite her in the ass. And the waistline.

  Twisting first to her left and then to her right, Kacie took a long hard look at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. “Sam is going to kill me,” she whispered.

  Again, there was a light tap on the dressing room door and a slight pause before the door swung open. “I’m not certain what happened, but that’s definitely the dress we ordered for you based on your measurements.”

  It was time to confess.

  “It wasn’t an error on your end. It’s my fault.”

  Della gave her a look of sympathy. “I don’t know that we could get a bigger size in time, but I do think a foundation piece that offers full control might be the best solution. We could have the seamstress attempt to let it out a bit, maybe a quarter inch on each side, but I’m afraid the fabric would show the original seaming. It’s far easier to take in these dresses than to let them out.”

  Kacie took a deep breath, as much as the dress would allow, and let it all out in a rush, unable to hide her disappointment.

  “Maybe you’re just a little bloated today,” Della offered.

  “No. It’s the chocolate. And the Oreos. And the Ben & Jerry’s.”

  “I see.” She placed her hands on Kacie’s shoulders and looked at her reflection. “Is the bride your sister?”

  Kacie nodded. “Younger sister. Whirlwind romance. He proposed four months after their first date. They’re getting married on their one-year dating anniversary. Meanwhile I was with the same man for seven years and when I asked him what our future was he told me he didn’t think he’d ever want to marry me.”

  She didn’t notice the tears sliding down her face until Della offered her a box of tissues. Kacie dried her eyes and blew her nose as delicately as possible.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, dear. But would you rather have found out his true feelings before or after you married him?”

  As much as she hated to hear it, Kacie knew Della had a point.

  “I understand though. I see a lot of joy in this business,
but I see a lot of heartache as well.”

  Kacie nodded as the woman offered another sympathetic smile and gentle pat to her shoulder. “I’ll see you out there. Take a few minutes if you need to.”

  As Della closed the door behind her, Kacie studied her reflection.

  How had she become this woman?

  It wasn’t so much about the dress not fitting—though that was mortifying—as it was about the fact that the ill-fitting dress seemed to epitomize the current state of her life. She used to be fun. In fact, she used to be just like her sister, surrounded by girlfriends, always laughing and having a good time. Until she met Mike and made him the center of her universe. Then one by one all of her friends slowly disappeared from her life—and she became a shell of the person she used to be.

  Kacie slipped on her heels and made her way into the salon, taking her place on the elevated platform so the seamstress could pin her hem. Thankfully, her sister and mom were busy trying different veil and shoe combinations and the seamstress worked quickly; she was done and undressed before they had a chance to notice the dress.

  When Sam took her place on the fitting platform, there was an audible sigh from all the ladies in the room. Her sister was breathtaking, and her gown fit as if it had been designed specifically for her. She looked so very happy. And Kacie was happy for her. But never in a million years had she ever imagined her little sister would find her happily-ever-after first.

  Kacie felt the burn of tears building in her eyes and within moments was crying for the second time in the span of an hour. Of course, everyone in the room was crying. Sam. Their mother. The few bridesmaids that were able to make it in for the fitting.

  Thankfully, they’d never realize that she wasn’t crying out of happiness for her sister, but out of sheer loneliness, heartbreak, and petty jealousy.

  As she sat all alone on the tufted silk bench against a far wall, Kacie opened her handbag and proceeded to pull everything out. Her phone. Her planner. Her emergency makeup and period provision bag. She piled them next to her, all in the hopes of finding a rogue Hershey’s Kiss in a bottom corner.

  “What are you doing?”

  Kacie looked up to realize Sam, along with everyone else in the salon, was staring at her. Perhaps her desperate hunt was more obvious than she’d realized.

  Leaving her sister, their mother made her way across the salon to where Kacie sat. “Sweetheart, are you feeling okay?” she whispered as she pressed a hand to Kacie’s cheek.

  God bless the woman for giving her an out at that very moment, whether she realized it or not. “As a matter of fact, I’m not. I think I need to go home.”

  Her mother chewed on her lip, looking over her shoulder at Sam and then back to Kacie as she tried to determine how to best handle the situation.

  Kacie patted her mother’s arm. “You stay here. I’ll call someone to give me a ride.” Her mother had driven them over, but she couldn’t ask her to leave the fitting just to drop Kacie home.

  Relief washed over her mother’s face. “That would be great if you could. I wouldn’t want Sam to get upset if I left.”

  “It’ll be just fine.” Kacie tossed her things back into her handbag and kissed her mom goodbye. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  She made her apologies and weakly waved to her sister and the other bridesmaids as she left the salon. But the moment she stepped out the front door of the bridal shop, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Her first thought was to try Damien, but then she remembered he was out of town for the weekend. Of course, she could always call a cab, but at this time, the wait might be long, and all she wanted was to get home as quickly as possible. As she scrolled through her contacts, she stopped at one listing.

  G.I. Joe.

  Her sensible side reminded her summer flings and meaningless sex just weren’t her style. That she was a relationship girl through and through.

  Kacie looked back inside. She recalled hearing her sister and her friends chattering away outside her dressing room door. How they teased one another and laughed and didn’t take things so damn seriously.

  As far as she could tell, she had two choices. She could keep eating her feelings, or let her hair down and have some fun.

  The night she met Michael, she thought the universe was playing a practical joke on her. But maybe they had actually been sending her a sign? One that said, here is a man just shallow enough to help you out of your rut. After all, having sex with Michael wouldn’t be a chore. The man was beautiful. And smart. And charming. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked the way he looked at her.

  The door to the shop opened behind her, and she heard Sam laughing, a completely carefree sound. Just yet another sign. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed that way, the exception being the night she spent with a certain army doctor.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, Kacie typed out a quick message, hoping G.I. Joe was still willing to come to her rescue.

  Having just completed a miserable round of golf, Michael was tossing his golf clubs into the trunk of his car when a text message from a number he didn’t recognize popped up on his phone.

  Hey, Joe. Any chance you could give me a ride? It’s Kacie BTW.

  And just like that, his day got a whole lot better.

  But instead of texting, he chose to call her back. Keeping their conversation short and sweet, it amounted to nothing more than her asking for a ride home from a shop downtown to her place in midtown. Did he care that it was out of his way? No. He was just glad the woman he’d been fantasizing about for weeks was finally putting his number to use.

  Fifteen minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of a fancy-schmancy dress shop and found her sitting on a white park bench outside, just as she’d said she would be. He parked in an empty spot just down the sidewalk from where she sat and climbed out of the car.

  “Hey there, sunshine.”

  Kacie looked up from her phone and smiled immediately. The first thing he noticed was that she wore her hair down, her loose golden curls hanging past her shoulders. The second thing he noticed as she rose from her seat and made her way toward him was that she was wearing a summer dress with skinny straps over her shoulders and little flowers on it.

  In the past few weeks, he hadn’t fantasized about her in a dress, but now that he had the mental image, it was sure to become part of the repertoire. He liked how the skirt flared out over her hips and ended midthigh, showing off her strong, toned legs. The fact that she was backlit by the sun and her shape was silhouetted through the thin fabric was simply a bonus.

  He also liked that she didn’t try to hide that she was looking him over from head to toe as well.

  “Thank you for coming to get me,” she said, coming to a stop directly in front of him. “I hope I didn’t interrupt any plans you might have.”

  “Nope. No plans at all.”

  She glanced at his car and then back to him. One corner of her mouth pulled up and he just knew she was going to rake him over the coals. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a black Camaro kind of guy.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Really? What kind of car did you think I’d drive?”

  “I’m not sure really. A red Porsche, maybe? Like you’re overcompensating for something.”

  He chuckled. So this was how it was going to be with her.

  “Did you forget I’m a military doctor, not a civilian one?”

  She lazily lifted one shoulder as if to say she didn’t care and he found himself momentarily distracted by the way one skinny strap slid across her skin.

  “You just seem to fit the MO,” she said, breaking his reverie. “Isn’t that what all good looking, arrogant men drive?”

  Purposely ignoring the “arrogant” part of her comment, he took the shoe box she carried under one arm and guided her around to the passenger’s side, opening the car door for her. “Glad to know you think I’m good looking.”

  Since it wasn’t a question,
Kacie’s only response was a shake of her head as she climbed in.

  If he were a better man he would’ve looked away as she settled into the front seat. But he wasn’t a better man. He liked how her skirt rose higher on her thighs as she slid across the black leather. Once she buckled her seat belt, she glanced up at him, and her eyes narrowed a bit, the expression on her face telling him she knew exactly how he’d been checking her out.

  After handing her the shoe box, he closed the door and made his way around to the driver’s side. She was quiet after she gave him directions, keeping her head turned to look out the passenger window. Nervous, too, if her fingers tapping the box she held in her lap were any indication.

  Inside he was dying to know what made her change her mind about seeing him.

  As he eased to a stop at a red light, he decided now was as good a time as any to ask.

  “I’m curious,” he began. He waited until she looked at him, although her eyes were disguised by her sunglasses. “Why did you call me?”

  “I told you. I needed a way to get home.”

  Immediately, she went back to looking out the window, but was unable to hide the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

  “You could’ve just as easily called a cab. Or a friend.”

  When she didn’t respond, he decided to let her off the hook for the moment, focusing on the road. Another right. Then a left. Still, not a word from her by the time he pulled to the curb in front of her place. Only then did he realize he’d hoped for too much. She really only wanted a ride home. But as he shifted the car into park, she placed her hand on his arm and gave him a quick, almost shy smile.

  “Would you like to come inside?”