Free My Best Friend's Bride by Ginny Baird Page B

dangerous than the ones Sabrina used to wear. Thank goodness he wasn’t late.
    “Have you ordered yet?” She spoke casually, like they were business acquaintances out for a coffee. Well, in a way, he supposed they were.  
    Hunter stood and pulled out her chair. “I was waiting on you.” She seemed a bit perplexed by the gesture, but sat anyway, smoothing her skirt over the tops of her legs.
    “That was nice. You didn’t need to.”
    “What can I get you?” he offered. “This one’s on me.”
    “Oh, no you don’t.” She tugged a wallet from a purse that matched her outfit and shoes. Jill opened the billfold and pulled out some cash. “This one’s on me, ” she said, handing it to him.
    Hunter accepted the bills, noting her eyes on the large chalkboard behind the register that enumerated the café’s various offerings. Her hair fell just past her shoulders with a section on top pulled back in a barrette. “The Guatemalan Breakfast Blend’s pretty good, if you’re still deciding,” he offered.  
    She turned back to him with a smile, and his heart did that weird little two-step again. He’d thought before it was out of primal fear. Now he wasn’t sure what it was. Perhaps it was the pressure of the situation. A man didn’t sign a marriage contract every day. “I’ll take a double-whipped Jamaican latte,” she said. “That sounds really good.”
    He nodded, then glanced at the cash in his hand. “Are you sure about this? I don’t mind paying.”
    She alarmed him by stifling a giggle. “You really are old-fashioned, aren’t you?”
    Hunter kind of resented that. Coming from her, it hadn’t sounded like a compliment. “I’m just trying to do the gentlemanly thing.”
    “This isn’t a date, Hunter,” she reminded him.  
    “Never said that it was.”
    “Then why were you trying to pay?”
    “That’s what guys do.”
    “Not when it’s not a date, they don’t.”
    “Did you just use a double-negative on me?”
    She cracked a grin. “Just go on and order the coffees, okay? I promise to let you pay next time.”  
    The shop was real art deco, with colorful modern art adorning the walls and small hand-blown glass lamps hanging from beams in the ceiling. In her upscale business attire, Jill seemed to fit right in. When Hunter had seen her at the club in tennis shorts and a ponytail, she’d appeared athletic and youthful. It was hard to imagine her being an international celebrity in that guise. But here, with this funky upbeat shop serving as a backdrop, Hunter could more easily envision Jill in a professional environment, lecturing at a podium or signing book copies.  
    She was poised and meticulously put together, like many of the women he worked with. Only Jill was one hundred and ten percent better-looking. No wonder he’d had a crush on her in high school. She outshone all the other girls then too. The thing was, all the other girls had wanted Hunter—and Jill hadn’t. My, how times had changed. Even if it was for outward appearances only, Hunter still took satisfaction in knowing Jill’s graduating class would see she’d wound up with him. Sure, she’d say that it was just pretend. But it wasn’t easy to forget the reality of that kiss. “Better hurry,” she whispered, motioning toward the counter with her chin. “A line is forming.”
     
    Hunter went to place their orders and Jill watched him walk away, thinking what a fine form he cut in his suit. It was well tailored and the hang of it was just right. It looked expensive and European. Hunter was clearly used to having the best, just as he was accustomed to getting his way. She hoped Brad was right when he’d hinted Hunter might actually move into her place. She was willing to concede on the money if he would make that concession on living arrangements. She gulped in some air, recalling she also had to mention that minor detail concerning her grandfather. Though perhaps she shouldn’t worry. Wasn’t Hunter already