Free The Wedding Wager by Regina Duke Page B

that happy man she’d played tourist with. “Oh, what the heck. Onion rings and chocolate ice cream, please.”
    Kevin grinned. “Excellent.”
    Megan looked around. “Jeffrey went to bed already?”
    “No. He’s running an errand. Did you have fun today?”
    Megan relaxed at the thought of their excursion. “I had a ball. When we’re all done with things at the ranch, can we come back and play tourist again?”
    “Sure,” said Kevin. “Even if I can’t, you certainly can. Once we get through the end of the month, you can do all the tourism you want.”
    Megan felt unaccountably disappointed. “Oh, that’s right. I thought you might need me to hang around for a while as your wife.”
    Kevin thought about that for a moment. “You know, you’re right. I’m really not sure exactly how close we’ll need to stay to each other as things play out. Speaking of which, when my mother called, she gave me a list of questions for you. She needs to know these things as soon as possible. She’s working on the wedding arrangements.” He handed Megan a list. “I’m going to call room service.” He moved to the far end of the room.
    Megan sat down and read the list. At the top, Kevin had doodled diamonds and other shapes around his mother’s name. Then he’d jotted separate items in block letters. Dress size. Height. Inches from waist to floor. Body measurements. Hair and eye color. Ring size. Shoe size. Favorite flower. Favorite color.
    His mother was actually taking Megan’s tastes into account! She must be in favor of this whole marriage idea. Megan took a pen from the coffee table and began answering the questions.
    “I need a tape measure to do this,” she said.
    “Check the drawers behind the bar. The hotel has thought of everything else. Why not a tape measure?”
    Megan shrugged and checked the drawers. “Hey, you’re right! There’s a sewing kit in here.”
    “Told you so.”
    Megan unrolled the tape measure and placed one end at her waist. Then she dropped the other end to the floor. The kinks in the tape refused to straighten. She smoothed it with her fingers and bent to the floor. As she bent to read it, her measurement from waist to floor got shorter and shorter.
    “I think you need to help me with this one.”
    Kevin dropped ice cubes in a glass, then came to her aid. He dropped to one knee and straightened the tape measure for her.
    “There you go. Forty-four inches from waist to floor.”
    “Thanks. I’ll do the rest.” She looked down at him. Having him on his knees in front of her stirred feelings deep inside. She cleared her throat and stepped away. “It looks like your mother is going to have a dress made for me.”
    Kevin stood up. “She said you wouldn’t have time or access to the proper stores once you reach the ranch. She’ll have a dress sent from New York.”
    “I hope I get to try it on.”
    Kevin returned to the bar and filled his glass with water. The ice cubes tinkled as he lifted it and drank.
    “Don’t worry. Knowing my mother, she’ll bring her personal seamstress along to make any adjustments you need.”
    Megan’s eyes widened. “Personal seamstress?”
    Kevin didn’t seem to think having a personal seamstress was a big deal. “She doesn’t like to depend on local availability when she’s meeting a deadline.”
    “Oh, of course not,” said Megan, waving that idea aside with a flick of her wrist. She turned away so he couldn’t see her eyes roll with disbelief. “I’d better finish this.”
    She was down to her favorite flower—roses—and favorite colors—berry tones, reds, and pinks—when room service knocked.
    Kevin tipped the waiter and rolled the cart of food to the sofa where Megan was sitting.
    “I really enjoy the fact that you are not afraid to eat real food,” he said.
    “Real food is my favorite, and I missed it like crazy in the hospital.” She held up the tape measure. “But I should keep this handy. The minute those inches start