Free Runaway Groom by Sally Clements

late.”
    She nodded. “I’ll let you get dressed.”
    Living with April was killing him.
    *****
    Marie and Eliza were dying to get together, so she’d worked hard all afternoon, made herself a quick omelet, shoved the stroganoff in the fridge, and flicked on the fire for some instant ambience.
    She was tugging the floor-length curtains closed as the doorbell rang.
    Both her friends stood on the doorstep clutching a variety of goodies.
    “We brought margaritas.” Marie clutched a couple of silver bottles of premade cocktails.
    “And tortilla chips.” Eliza hoisted a plastic bag high. She peered behind April. “Where’s hunky Matthew?” Her eyes were wild and her eyebrows waggled up and down.
    April laughed. “I told you, he’s out for the evening.”
    Eliza’s painted lips turned down. “Aw, I thought maybe he’d have come back early.”
    “Sorry. Girls only. Come on, we’ll get glasses.” She strode into the kitchen with her two friends trailing after her. They stopped again and again on the route, admiring the pictures, the carpets, the furniture.
    “Jeez, you’d think you guys hadn’t ever seen a house before,” she teased.
    “This is no ordinary house.” Marie picked a large bowl from the shelf in the kitchen and unleashing a tortilla wave into it. “Matthew must be loaded. Look at all this stuff.”
    She’d never had Matthew down as a nester, but he obviously was. His house was beautifully put together, and she would bet her lunch money he hadn’t had any help from a decorator. “Let’s get cozy.”
    Eliza sighed. “Wow, this is gorgeous.” She set down the drinks on the coffee table, then sank on one of the sofas. “So, tell me. How are you getting along?”
    Where to begin? She’d told them both the news on the phone. That she’d moved in for a month, that he’d given her a job. She hadn’t told anyone about the kiss, somehow it was too personal to share. Especially when her thoughts were so conflicted about it. “He’s nice.”
    “He’s nice?” Eliza’s gaze sharpened.
    “Nice?” Marie echoed.
    “He’s a nice guy.” Sure, she sounded defensive. After all it wasn’t every day she backed right down from calling a man a complete heel and in fact did a complete about face. “He’s kind, and generous. He came to my rescue immediately, he…”
    “He’s a knight in shining armor?” Marie leered. “Does he kiss well too?”
    A flush heated April’s face instantly. Oh great, facial semaphore.
    Marie’s eyes widened. “OMG, he has kissed you!”
    There was no point in denying it. Not for the first time, she wished she was a better liar.
    “Has he?” Eliza asked.
    They perched on the sofas awaiting her answer, like buzzards watching the last dying breaths of a wounded gazelle.
    “Oh, fine. We kissed.”
    “When?”
    “Where?”
    “The first night.” Before she had a chance to say more, Eliza was in interrogation mode.
    “At the restaurant? When you were wearing that knockout dress?” She sighed, drowning in a sea of romance.
    “Right here, after the fire. I was wearing a onesie with ducks on it.” She giggled, remembering the ridiculousness of it. “And we were drinking cocoa.”
    “You’ve got to admire a man who kisses a woman over cocoa,” Marie sipped her drink. “Especially if she’s wearing a onesie.”
    “I can’t see it.” Eliza’s forehead pleated. “I thought it was black for winter, white for summer. I’ve never seen you in anything with yellow on it, especially not ducks. Don’t get me wrong though, I’ve nothing against ducky onesies.”
    “It wasn’t mine, you idiot.”
    “If you tell me it was his, you’ll totally ruin the moment. You know that, right?” Marie said.
    “It’s his sister’s. All my stuff was in the washing machine, I borrowed it.” She tucked her legs under her and refilled her glass. “It was just one of those things, you know, the fire—I was upset…”
    “So it was a chaste comforting kiss, was it?”