Daughters Of The Bride(37)
He studied the sisters. There were similarities and interesting differences. Rachel was the oldest. She was heavier and trying to hide the fact with too-baggy clothes. She looked tired. Or maybe resigned. Sienna was the obvious beauty of the three, but he’d never been into what was obvious. Instead, his gaze lingered on Courtney.
She looked different tonight. Sexier. Still not comfortable in her own skin, but appealing as always. She kept smoothing the front of her dress as if not sure of how it looked. Rachel slapped her hands away, making him think Courtney’s sister had something to do with the transformation.
He walked over to the bar and ordered a shot of tequila and a wedge of lime, then crossed to the sisters.
Courtney smiled when she saw him. “You remember Quinn, don’t you? Joyce’s grandson.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rachel said, shaking hands with him. “Watch out for Sienna. She’ll hit you up for money.”
“For an excellent cause,” Sienna protested with a smile. “And if you write me a check, I swear I’ll leave you alone.”
“Not today,” he said firmly as he handed Courtney the shot.
“We haven’t had dinner yet,” she protested. “It’s early to try to get me drunk.”
He chuckled. “This is medicinal. It’s going to be a long night.”
She looked from the shot to him, then shrugged. “Okay.” After swallowing, she sucked on the lime wedge. “No salt?”
“Hard to transport.”
Although he could have put it on his hand and she could have licked it off. He gave himself a full three seconds to think about how great that would have been, then firmly dismissed the visual and the imagined feel of her mouth against his skin. Courtney was not for him. She was young and impressionable and not anyone he should get involved with. He liked her, therefore he would protect her from himself.
“Nice party,” he said. “I like the votive candles.”
The small glass containers at every place setting had been painted with the phrase “She said yes!”
“A bit of whimsy,” Courtney told him.
“Courtney’s also responsible for the champagne tower,” Rachel pointed out.
“As long as she doesn’t touch it,” Sienna murmured. “Because that would go badly.”
“Sienna,” Rachel hissed.
Courtney flinched and took a step back. “Have you tried the appetizers? The chefs really outdid themselves today. We’re experimenting with some new finger foods, using locally sourced ingredients.”
Rachel lightly touched Courtney’s back before turning to Sienna. “Oh, look. There’s David. You should go talk to him.”
“You’re both too sensitive,” Sienna snapped before stalking off.
Quinn watched her go. Family dynamics, he thought grimly. They often sucked—although he was lucky when it came to Joyce. He turned back to Courtney.
“Did you do the table runner with the pictures? It’s a clever idea.”
She flashed him a grateful smile. “Um, yes. It’s easy to do online. You could use it at one of your company parties. All your album covers.”
“That’s a great idea,” Rachel told her. “I’m going to steal it for the end of baseball season. We always have a big party with the whole team. I’ll email the parents and ask them to send me their favorite pictures of their kids from the season. Excuse me. I’m going to send myself a note so I don’t forget.”
She walked away. Quinn looked at Courtney.
“You okay?”
She smiled brightly. “Of course. I had tequila. Where’s the bad?”
In her sister, for starters, he thought grimly. Worse, the encounter had made him feel protective, which, when combined with the fact that he already liked her, spelled nothing but trouble.
“You’re the superstar,” he told Courtney.
“I’m a maid. Sienna’s raising money to help battered women start a new life. I think she would win on anyone’s scale.”
“Plus, she’s always been the pretty one.”
Courtney bit her lower lip. “There is that.”
“What you have is better than pretty.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, please. We all know that’s not true.”
“Tell me about the tattoo on the small of your back and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”
Courtney laughed. The sweet sound came from her belly, assuring him that her equilibrium had been restored.
“Not even for money,” she told him. “That is going to be my secret and I will taunt you with it every chance I get.”
“That’s my girl,” he said, taking her hand. “Now I want to look at the table runner again. You can point out all the pictures of you when you were little.”