Free The Sometime Bride by Ginny Baird Page A

hadn’t settled on the perfect place to share it. Not at his place, for sure. His apartment was a pigsty. Not that it was usually that bad… Mike slumped back against his bucket seat at the inner half-truth. The fact was, compared to its usual state, his apartment looked good. Which wasn’t saying a whole heck of a lot.
    Mike could tell from meeting her family and seeing the tidy home she’d grown up in that, though she hadn’t been raised rich, she’d definitely inherited class and style. A style that would be severely undone by the sight of his dirty boxers strewn all across the backs of his chairs. And those beers cans… Mike scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if he’d put that last batch of trash out to recycle. Better not chance it, he decided, heading the car west of the city.
    “Where to?” Carrie asked, a fine sweep of color caressing her cheeks, but only half as tenderly as Mike wanted to at this moment.
    “Someplace special,” he said, lowering his window just a crack to let in a refreshing breath of cool evening air.
    But deep inside, Carrie knew that it scarcely mattered. Someplace special seemed to be right here with him.

Chapter Nine

    Mike hoisted Carrie down from the top of the split-rail fence and led her into the vineyard.
    “Well, what do you think?” he asked, clutching his mystery paper bag to his chest.
    Carrie inhaled deeply, absorbing the scent of summer hills and lilac. For acres before them, rows upon rows of trellised vines bloomed in lush splendor, their endless trails spilling toward the tumbling Blue Ridge. Mountain upon haze-tipped mountain fell backward in smoky array, blending infinitely with the settling twilight.
    “It’s gorgeous, just gorgeous,” Carrie said, talking not only of the scenery around them. For in this afternoon alone, she’d seen something altogether different in Mike. Not the tempting bachelor, nor the friend with a penchant for making her smile. But a regular family man. Carrie was certain now he hadn’t been fabricating his desires for that white picket fence. Mike was good in a crowd, great with people—young and old alike. And playful to boot. Carrie was sure he’d make an excellent father.
    “Care to sit?”
    Carrie looked down, realizing Mike had removed his jacket and laid it as a cushion on the ground for her to protect her clothing.
    “You know,” she said, taking a seat and arranging her dress on the jacket to defend it from the spreading clay-dotted grass around them. “Alexia was really a very stupid woman.”
    Mike grinned in surprise and scooted in beside her on the splotchy earth. “Kind of you to say so.”
    “I mean it,” Carrie assured him. “But she was smart in one regard.”
    Mike raised his brow in expectation.
    “Picking you out in the first place.”
    Mike sputtered a laugh. “Alexia always was a good shopper.”
    Carrie tried to keep her eyes focused ahead of her, but it was impossible not to be drawn to the man beside her. Never in her life—nowhere in the world—had Carrie St. John come across the likes of Mike Davis. He was handsome and charming, absolutely. But much more importantly, he was genuine.
    “You know the thing about Alexia—”
    Carrie reached out and latched on to his rugged chin. “Mike.”
    He stopped midsentence and questioned with his eyes. Beautiful, earth-moving, sea-green eyes.
    Carrie settled her other hand at the side of his face. “Shut up and kiss me.”
    “Thought you’d never ask,” he hummed, closing in.

    After they’d necked like teenagers for nearly twenty minutes, Carrie felt something moist and clammy seeping onto her outer thigh.
    “Oh my God!” Mike said, looking down in horror at the leaking paper bag pressed up against Carrie’s leg. “Your beautiful dress!”
    Carrie puzzled at the mysterious green stain on her leg. She wiped a hand against the sticky mess, then brought a palm to her nose. “Mint?”
    “Mint chocolate chip,” Mike said, sheepishly