Free Nick Of Time (Blue Ridge Romance 2) by Allison B. Hanson Page B

trash.”
    “No! I need it to fit into the dress.”
    “Why didn’t you get a bigger dress?” he asked.
    “I didn’t want to be an eight. I wanted to be a six.”
    “Baby, I think if a six doesn’t fit without this other crap, then you’re really an eight,” he reasoned.
    She frowned and rubbed her forehead. He could tell the hot moment was now over, ruined by an unnecessary undergarment.
    “Riley is a two,” she mentioned, causing him to sigh and zip up his pants. It was definitely not going to happen now.
    “Is a two found in the little girls’ department?” he asked, getting a tiny trace of a smile out of her. “I like my women to be . . . women . I especially like eights.” For the life of him, he didn’t know a thing about the numbers on the tags in women’s clothes. He only knew Nichole was hot as hell, whatever size she was.
    She smiled wider and then lightly smacked his arm.
    “You’ve never dated an eight in your life,” she challenged.
    “Are we dating now?” he asked, truly wanting to know.
    “No. You know what I meant.” No, he didn’t.
    She began straightening her dress and smoothing her hair.
    “Will you come to my room tonight?” He wasn’t giving up easily.
    “No.”
    “Can I come to yours?” he tried again, sounding desperate. He was desperate.
    “No.” With that, she opened the door, peeked out, and left.
    He leaned against the wall in the dark for another moment, waiting until he could walk safely without impaling himself.
    It wasn’t the first time he’d been confused by a woman. Every guy knew he was at a disadvantage when he tried to master the female mind. But it didn’t keep him from trying over and over. He already knew he would try again with Nichole.
    When his pants were a bit roomier, he went to find his brother.
    “Come on, I’ll buy you your last drink as a single guy,” he offered.
    They walked to the bar, where Cooper frowned.
    “We don’t need to—”
    “Shut up. I don’t get to be the best man; you can at least let me buy you a drink.” Tucker nodded at the pretty bartender. “Triple malt Scotch for him and a virgin strawberry daiquiri for me, hold the stupid umbrella.”
    “How about a sword?” the little brunette asked.
    “I wouldn’t call it a sword really.” He winked at her, making her blush.
    “No. We use little plastic swords in our drinks,” she explained with a glint in her eye. Too bad he wasn’t interested in her. Not for anything more than flirting.
    “Ah! Yeah, I definitely want a sword.”
    Cooper was staring at him as he sat on the stool next to him.
    “What?” Tucker asked, holding out his hand innocently. “I like strawberry daiquiris.”
    “That’s not what I was concerned about.” Cooper frowned as he glanced over at the bartender as she started up the blender.
    “I’m sorry; you said I couldn’t mess around with the maid of honor. You said nothing about the bartender, or anyone else for that matter.”
    “Are you even supposed to be in a relationship yet? I seem to remember your therapist saying you should put that off until you were more stable.”
    “I am stable, and I’m not in a relationship. God! You just have to find things to worry about with me, don’t you? You can’t be happy that I’m fine?”
    “Trust me, I would be thrilled if you were fine.”
    Tucker doubted that. His brother loved to fix things for people. Hence the reason he became a lawyer; so he could help people. Instead of fighting with the groom, Tucker let out a sigh as the girl set down the drinks in front of them. A blue plastic sword was speared through a strawberry, a piece of pineapple, and a strip of paper with her number on it.
    “Unbelievable,” Cooper said, rolling his eyes.
    “Do you want me to see if she’d be up for both of us?” he asked, just to mess with his brother.
    Cooper took a sip of his drink without any reaction. He’d long become desensitized to Tucker’s humor.
    When their glasses were empty, they