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He had been right; it was sweet, and not just because his mouth tasted of sugar, cream, and strawberries. It was the way he lingered, his tongue tracing the inside of her bottom lip until it tangled with hers. Her body coiled up with every stroke, wanting to deepen the kiss and slide her leg across his lap until she was straddling him.
The sound of a car coming down the gravel road to the park reached her ears and she broke away to find Mrs. Baker in her silver minivan staring at them through the windshield, her mouth wide open in surprise. Mrs. Baker had been her freshman English teacher, and Marley remembered her in her early twenties, wearing bright skirts and her hair always perfectly pulled back in neat, intricate styles.
Oh good. Mrs. Baker’s four kids were peeking around their mother’s shoulder, looking at them too.
“I think I should probably get back to work,” she said, softly.
“Only on the condition that you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow.”
She chuckled, one eye on Mrs. Baker as she opened her door and let her rambunctious brood out. Two seven
-year-old boys, a five-year-old girl, and a three-year-old cherub ran by, hollering, “Hi, Marley!”
“Hey guys.” Marley smiled at Mrs. Baker, who walked by with a large bag, probably packed full of water and snacks. “Hi, Mrs. Baker.”
Since she’d quit teaching to stay home with her kids, Mrs. Baker had dropped the pristine image for a messy top knot, and yoga pants and preferred Marley call her Hailey. But it was still hard to break the habit, even though they were both adults.
“Hey there, Marley. You know you make me feel old when you call me that.” She didn’t even stop. In fact, she seemed to be jogging to keep up with her kids.
“Bye.” Marley shook her head. “Sorry, I would have introduced you, but seems like she’s in a hurry.”
“It’s fine, but what do say about dinner tomorrow night?”
Marley gave him a wide smile. “I guess having dinner with you wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Now, there’s a vote of confidence,” he teased.
“No, really, it sounds good. I’ll look forward to it.”
Luke’s arms slipped around her waist before she could start walking back to the car. “Hey we still have a five-minute drive back. The dates not quite over.”
“Except I’m not kissing you in front of my mother’s café.”
Luke gave her a wolfish grin. “Then we might have to make a pit stop.”
Chapter 5
Marley walked into Shotgun Wedding Bar and Grill, the blast of a Chris Young song vibrating through the speakers. She was a little surprised that Sonora had wanted to meet here instead of Bow Ties, their upscale Italian restaurant. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Shotgun or its food, but it was just so…loud.
She recognized Sonora from Beth’s old CD covers and the poster her little sister had hung on the back of her door, but honestly, she’d have stood out anyway. While the rest of the patrons were wearing jeans, tube tops and tanks, Sonora was in a flashy silver dress, the thin spaghetti straps showing off her tan shoulders and arms that almost seemed to glitter in the bar lights. Her hair spilled around her shoulders in a fountain of waves and her make-up was on point, highlighting her eyes and lips brilliantly. She was definitely a knockout.
Marley walked over to where the other woman was sitting in one of the booths. She waved at a couple of people who said hi, and stopped next to the table, smiling warmly as Sonora glanced up.
“Hey Sonora. I’m Marley Stevenson. Your new maid of honor.”
Sonora’s cold blue eyes raked over Marley, who was still wearing her yellow dress. From the frown on her face, Marley had a feeling Sonora wasn’t impressed by her.
“Have a seat.” The order was dismissive and it grated on Marley. She’d dealt with difficult people before, but she had a feeling this one was going to take the cake.
Sonora tossed her hair, glaring around the bar. “I have been waiting fifteen minutes for someone to come by and take my drink order, but nothing. I thought this place was supposed to cater to tourists.”
Marley opened her mouth to respond, but Sonora just kept talking.
“Finally, here she comes.”
“Hey there, Marley. How’s it going?” Lucy Decker set down a couple of napkins and waters with a smile. In her early thirties with jet-black hair and a full figure in an A-line, she put her hands on her hips. “Are you waiting for anyone else, or—”
“My fiancée and his best man will be here in about an hour, but we would like to eat before they arrive.”
