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“You look amazing. Sophisticated, classy, and sexy. Sure, your figure is different now, but trust me, when you’re my age, you’ll look back on these days and wonder what you had to be self-conscious about. You’ll wonder why you didn’t celebrate everything you had going on.”
“I don’t want people to be whispering behind their hands about the best man’s date.”
Nelle put her hands on Madison’s shoulders and turned her back to the mirror. “All they’ll say is, ‘How’d he get so lucky?’ Look at you. Hunter Knox won’t know what hit him.”
She fiddled with the neckline and considered the dress again. The idea of blowing Hunter away held appeal. Was it so wrong to want him to see her as sophisticated, classy, and sexy? To pretend he’d asked her to be his date because she beguiled him, and not because she was a sex-starved single mama with a heap of troubles who happened to tap into his hyperactive sense of responsibility?
Yeah, right. As if the right dress would magically transform her into a woman who had her act together—the kind of woman Hunter belonged with. She sat heavily on the bed and bounced Joy on her knee. For the billionth time, she wished they’d met under normal circumstances—nobody as the rescuer, nobody needing rescue—just a cute paramedic who’d walked into the coffee shop one morning and flashed his sexy smile at her. She shook the pointless fantasy out of her head. “Nelle, I’m the lucky one in the Hunter-Madison dynamic, and we all know it. We also know this is not some big romance. He’s helping me out. It’s temporary.”
She was helping him, too, in her own small way, assuming the envelope she’d put in the outgoing mail earlier this week counted for anything.
Nelle rested her hands on Madison’s shoulders and met her eyes in the mirror. “I want to give you something to think about, honey. Hunter’s been my neighbor quite a few years. In that time, I’ve seen a steady stream of women come and go,
and you know what?”
She already spent too much time thinking about Hunter’s steady stream of women, but Nelle seemed to expect a reply, so she said, “What?”
“You’re the only one who hasn’t been temporary.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Excellent choice, sir.” The Tyra Banks lookalike behind the jewelry counter smiled at Hunter and repositioned the diamond ring on the black velvet mat for maximum sparkle. “No girl in her right mind could say no to that face”—she pointed at him—“and this ring.”
“He’s got some compensating to do,” Beau opined from beside him. “Do you have anything bigger?”
“You’re going to have my big footprint on your ass in about a second.” He elbowed his partner away. “Go look at cufflinks or something. Better yet, get me a Jamba Juice at the food court. Turns out I don’t need your help with this.”
Beau elbowed him back. “You so need my help. I haven’t heard the sales pitch yet.”
“Sir.” The saleslady straightened. “We don’t pitch here. The beauty of our designs speaks for itself.”
“No, no. Not your sales pitch, miss.” Beau dropped his elbows on the counter, looked up at the clerk, and flashed a quick smile. “I’m referring to his sales pitch.”
“Ah. I see. Before you launch into your sales pitch, let me take care of a little detail,” the clerk said, and turned her attention back to him. “This is a beautiful ring, and I want to make sure when you slip it on her finger, it fits like it was made for her. Do you know her ring size?”
“Five point five.”
Beau elbowed him again. “You asked her for her ring size? Kind of tipped your hand, don’t you think?”
“Give me some credit. I measured while she was asleep.”
“Perfect,” the saleslady said. “Let me go check this. I’ll be back shortly.” She sidled into the back room.
“So…” Beau leaned on the counter. “What’s your plan?”
“Get yourself a tissue first.”
“Why?”
“Because my plan is so amazing, when you hear it, you’re going to cry like you did the time the game delay forced us to watch that movie where Brad Pitt ages backwards.”
Beau grimaced. “I didn’t cry.”
“Bullshit. I saw a tear.”
“For Christ’s sake. I got emotional about the game delay.”
He smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle in his shirt. “Whatever you say.”
