Not bringing her own car was a serious mistake. Piper realized that just about the time the groom’s handsy Uncle Eddie tried to get acquainted with her ass. For the second time. Despite the lack of alcohol being provided at the reception, he’d snuck in a flask and was sufficiently drunk that the sharp heel she jabbed “accidentally” into his foot didn’t even make him flinch. One of Richard’s brothers noticed and hauled Eddie off before Piper had to get more forceful.
She’d hoped, desperately, that the reception would wind down early and the bride and groom would do the whole bouquet toss and be eager to get on with the honeymoon. Instead, they seemed intent on dancing the night away in a last ditch opportunity to party with all their closest friends. At least most of her duties as bridesmaid had been discharged. Short of post-reception clean up, she was free to enjoy herself. What a crock. Between dodging her relatives and friends of the family who seemed intent on asking every possible inappropriate question, from her relationship status to the state of her eggs—not in need of being cryogenically frozen, thank you very much—and trying to keep away from Uncle Eddie and others like him, she was bored out of her mind and desperate to escape. If the Spring House hadn’t been a full ten miles from town proper, she’d have considered walking.
Ducking behind a ficus tree, she glanced around to make sure nobody was looking before tugging her phone out of the bodice of her dress. Not exactly the ideal place to carry it, but it wasn’t as if these bilious monstrosities had pockets. Still no text back from Myles. Damn. She’d been hoping he’d entertain her a little.
Two strong hands slid over her hips from behind.
Before Piper could jam her
elbow back into Eddie’s gut, a voice whispered in her ear, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a dress like this?”
Myles.
Her heart began to thud with excitement. “Does a line like that usually work for you?”
“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work at wedding receptions? You come crash hoping to get a bridesmaid out of her dress?”
“You wouldn’t have to work too hard to talk me out of this one. But I demand pajamas as a replacement.”
“That can be arranged.” Myles pressed a kiss on the exposed skin of her nape.
Piper shivered and turned to face him, hating it when his hands fell away. “What are you doing here?”
“You asked for a rescue. I’m at your service, milady.” He sketched a courtly bow, his mop of dark hair flopping into his eyes. Had he even had a cut since the show?
“Seriously?”
“I figured you were ready to get out of here. But if you want to make out in the coat closet, I’m good with that, too. I passed it on the way in. As I recall, you have a fondness for small, enclosed spaces.”
“I did not drag you into that prop closet to make out,” she reminded him.
“Such a waste. So how ’bout it? You want to make a break for it?”
She bit her lip, wondering if she’d even be missed and calculating exactly how much hell she’d catch if she was.
“I’ve got a surprise for you back at my place,” he coaxed.
“Is that a euphemism?”
His laughter skated over her skin. God she’d missed the sound of it these last three months. “Only if you want it to be. But I can promise you quiet and jammies and stove-top popcorn if you don’t. Or we can go out, if you’d rather. But I figured you’d had enough of people tonight.”
He was right. The whole scenario sounded like heaven.
“Let’s get out of here.”
After retrieving her purse, they snuck out via the veranda doors and circled around to where he’d parked his car. The cool air felt wonderful on her heated skin after the press of bodies inside. The moment she was buckled into the front seat, she slid her heels off and flexed her poor, abused toes. “God, that feels so good. I’ve been in these things since eleven this morning.”
Myles shot her an incredulous look. “What time was the wedding?”
“Four. You guys have no idea how easy you have it. On the bride’s side there’s all this pre-wedding stuff. Manis and pedis. Hair appointments. Last minute dress alterations because the bride put on unexpected weight. All the attendant freak out associated with that. Then pictures—but none of the joint pictures because it won’t do for the bride and groom to see each other ahead of time. Then the waiting and the nerves and the bride puking. Calming her down. Getting some ginger ale and crackers in her. Checking on guests, locating the missing guest book. Locating the attendant who’s supposed to make sure all the guests actually sign the guest book. It’s been a...production. So much freaking drama. All the groom’s side has to do is show up, put on a tux, and go.”
“Jesus. I’ll throw in a foot massage with the popcorn.”
“You are a god among men, Myles Stewart.” Piper dropped her head back against the seat.
“It’s been mentioned once or twice. I’m guessing you are not one of those women into the big, fancy, invite-everyone-you-know kind of wedding?”
“I don’t know why people don’t just save the hassle and the expense and elope. Then have a big party for family and friends to celebrate when you get back. Seems simpler.”