Read Something Borrowed for Free Online

groom-to-be, standing next to her. They looked completely at home and, unfortunately, utterly smitten. ‘Oh, it’s just divine. Come and have a look. The garden is perfect. I can’t believe you didn’t suggest it before.’
    Chloe pasted on a shiny, happy smile that her sister would be proud of and refused to show any sign of irritation. ‘It’s fairly new. I haven’t been here myself yet. Can’t wait to see it.’ There had been talk, just before the wedding, of an invitation to the restaurant’s grand opening with celebrities and famous TV chefs and the diverse clientele of the area. It had sounded right up her street. She presumed the invitation been lost in the post.
    With Vaughn working overseas for most of his adult life, Chloe hadn’t met him until The Jilting. As a cousin who’d spent long childhood summer holidays with Jason, then forging his stellar career abroad, he’d been a well-kept secret. He’d been too busy, too elusive—too damned selfish, she’d privately thought—to come back for the engagement party or Jason’s father’s funeral. He had a reputation of jumping from one job to the next, suddenly uprooting and going travelling on a whim. Doing exactly what suited him with no regard for anyone else. But he’d always been top-pick for best man, no hesitation. A pact, she’d heard, Jason and Vaughn had made years ago.
    Then he was suddenly there, his presence bigger than ever. She hadn’t even stepped over the threshold, and her heart began to hammer. Out of the shadows he came, slowly coming into focus. The smile he’d worn slipped as he realised who she was.
    There was a silence as they stared at each other. His hair, as she’d remembered, was a mess of dark waves. His eyes narrowed, black as midnight and matching his collared shirt, which was haphazardly stuffed into dark jeans. The linen covered a body she’d actually touched, and suddenly, the hardness of those muscles under her fingertips rebounded into her brain. Briefly, she wondered whether he’d honed them just by lifting heavy-duty kitchenware or if he worked out. For a second, she couldn’t breathe.
    His jaw was fixed. ‘Chloe Cassidy.’ He regained whatever composure might have momentarily slipped with his smile. Whether it was subconscious or not, she didn’t know, but he rubbed his forehead with his forefingers. The exact spot she’d cut as she’d inadvertently wrestled him to the ground. ‘Do I need to duck or run for my life? Should I call the police right now or wait to see how things unfold?’
    The smile she found was gracious and forgiving—but, she hoped, sarcastic to the point of piercing his well-inflated ego. ‘Don’t worry, I have no need to take you down this time. You are perfectly safe.’
    ‘So you are Stacey’s wedding planner?’
    ‘Yes.’ Was that so difficult to imagine? It was hard trying to speak with a throat that felt rubbed raw with sand and a mouth faux-grinning as wide as a bullfrog’s. But Jenna was right. She had to be here for her client. She stuck out her hand. ‘Mr Brooks. Good of you to fit us in at such short notice.’
    He gave a swift glance to her hand, then to their clients. ‘Chloe. And you can call me Vaughn—after all, we’re not exactly strangers.’
    ‘Okay, Vaughn it is.’ His handshake was firm and warm. And the briefest she’d ever experienced. Clearly, he was as put out about this as she was. Good.
    But that didn’t explain the shiver of something that went through her as she touched him. She reached into her bag for her planner, hoping to wipe all traces of him from her skin. Maybe that would stop the strange tingle in her fingertips. It didn’t. ‘Yes, so, we’re looking at the twenty-first of June. I’m sure Stacey’s told you all about their plans? And I’m also sure you’ll be busy that day; mid-summer and all that, busiest time of the year, right? And we’d like to seat around a hundred; that’s quite a lot for a small place like...’