Free Something Borrowed by Catherine Hapka Page B

tonight. I just came from the lamest bachelorette party in the world.”
    He put a hand on my back and steered me to an empty table. “What, no male strippers?”
    â€œHardly.” I rolled my eyes as I allowed myself to be steered. “My sister is way too uptight for that sort of thing.”
    â€œUh-oh.” He arched an eyebrow and pulled out my chair. “What did I let myself in for? I signed on for a date with a hot babe, not an uptight Main Line wedding.”
    I grinned. “Too late to back out now,” I teased. “But don’t worry. I’ll do my best to keep you entertained.”
    He laughed, showing nicotine-stained teeth and a surprisingly sweet smile. Suddenly I wondered why I’d ever been nervous about calling him. He was just a guy, like any other guy.
    Well, maybe not quite like every other guy. Tonight he was dressed in skinny black jeans, electric-blue cowboy boots, a faded Sex Pistols T-shirt, and a tuxedo jacket withpatches on the elbows. Oh, and a different nose ring—this one was an actual ring, with a tiny silver cross dangling from it.
    â€œI know one way to liven things up at the wedding,” I said, running my eyes over the outfit as he sat down across from me. “Wear that .”
    â€œAh, but no,” he replied. “I’ve got a much more interesting outfit in mind for the big day.”
    â€œReally?” I giggled. “What?”
    He leaned forward, lacing his long fingers together and gazing at me. “I thought I’d start with my favorite pair of leather pants. Black, of course—after all, it’s a formal occasion. . . .”
    After that, the evening flew by. Oliver was really fun to hang out with. Better yet, the more I got to know him, the more I relished the thought of parading him around in front of all the stuffy Main Line gossips who would be at the wedding. I wasn’t sure Oliver would ever be Mr. Right. But as Mr. Right Now, he was perfect. As the evening went on, he continued to plan and improve upon the outrageous outfit he planned to wear—it involved all sorts of leather, a few chains, some zebra-patterned silk, and evena touch of purple-glitter guyliner. Camille would definitely have him Photoshopped out of all the wedding pictures, and Boring Bob would probably faint when he got a load of him. Not to mention what Mr. Smug You’re-So-Suburban Jason would say the first time he saw us together.
    Suddenly I couldn’t wait another whole week to see the reactions. “Hey,” I blurted out as the waitress cleared away our plates and dropped dessert menus on the table. “Want to come to a pool party on Sunday?”
    â€œA pool party?” He leaned closer and arched his eyebrow again. I’d never quite realized just how sexy an eyebrow could be. “Depends. Will it involve seeing you in a bikini?”
    â€œMaybe, if you play your cards right. So how about it?”
    â€œI’ll be there. Just tell me where and when.”
    I gave him the info, silently congratulating myself for taking a chance on him. I’d never really pictured myself falling for a musician. Then again, I’d never met one quite like Oliver. Maybe this time Mr. Right Now really would end up turning into something more after all. . . .

    I was in a great mood when I got home after my date. It was late—Oliver and I had hung out at the restaurant for a long time talking and laughing and drinking green tea. Then he’d driven me home in his old beater Chevy, leaning over to give me a kiss on the cheek before I hopped out. That wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting from Mr. Walk on the Wild Side, and I’d found it quite charming.
    To my surprise, all the downstairs lights were on in my house. When I let myself in, I saw why. Another category-five Bridezilla crisis was in full swing in the den. My father was sitting in front of the computer, grim-faced and silent. Camille, on the