AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“She’s your cousin?”
I nodded. “Frank’s eighty-four-year-old cousin, who was left a ton of money by her multimillionaire husband. She spends most of her time in Florida, but I get ten dollars in my birthday card every year.”
“I wish I’d have known that earlier. You know I like a big bank account.” Her coy smile faded as she tipped her head up, sliding one of her hands from around my neck to press her palm over my heart. Those dark eyes of hers, usually full of fire, were all soft and round, urging me to open up my chest and allow her a peek around.
“You asked how I learned to dance. It was from my parents. They danced around the house all the time.”
“It sounds like they had a lovely relationship. I’d like to hear more about them one day, if you’re willing.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, wrapping my hand along her jaw, my thumbs skating along her cheekbones. I angled my head down, close enough to smell her breath, sweet like cake icing, and she stretched up to meet me halfway.
“Jason, hi!”
And we froze.
That voice belonged to Bridget and she was headed our way.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Gemma mumbled, stepping away from me, although I loathed to let go of her.
“What are you doing here?” I said to Bridget, sure she wasn’t on the guest list.
“I was having dinner with my parents on the patio, and we wanted to congratulate the happy couple.” She held out her hand to Gemma. “Hi, I’m Bridget.”
“I know. We’ve met.”
“Oh.” Bridget smiled ruefully. “Sorry. Um, Jason, could I talk to you?”
Gemma’s head toggled between Bridget and me, and I wanted to show her there was nothing between us anymore. “Yeah. Sure.”
Bridget’s normally bright eyes dimmed, her hands uncharacteristically restless by her waist. “In private. Please, Jase?”
It was unlike her to ask for anything. Bridget was a go-getter—in work, in romance, she took. She didn’t ask. I got a weird feeling about it and looked to Gemma to gauge her reaction.
She huffed, throwing her hands up. “Whatever,Jase. I’ll be at the bar.”
I watched her walk away, the material of her dress clinging to her hips and ass, and I ran a rough hand over my face.
“Did I interrupt something?” Bridget asked, raising her shoulder.
I sighed and pointed to a couple of empty chairs at a table. “Yeah. What’s up?”
She smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. “That tuxedo fits you really well.”
“Bridget, what do you want?”
“To say hi.”
My attention fell to the bar, where a dark-haired guy had crept up next to Gemma. He worked at the firm…Matt or Mark or something. I started to stand, needing to go to her. “Come on, Bridge, this isn’t—”
She stopped me with her hand on my wrist. “Where are you going?”
“I have a date.”
“Don’t go.” She added her other hand. “I need you.”
“I told you. I can’t be with you,” I said, frowning as Matt or Mark touched Gemma’s elbow, sliding a drink of something dark in front of her. I ground my molars at the audacity of this guy, although she pushed it away and accepted a new drink from the bartender.
“Please, Jason,” Bridget pleaded, her voice rising in what sounded like alarm. “My mom’s sick. That’s why we’re out to dinner tonight. My dad thought it might take her mind off it. She got the results back a few days ago, ovarian cancer.”
