Simply Irresistible Read Free Page A

she nodded he assumed she was a bridesmaid or some sort of attendant. As they sped past walls of fir trees, rolling farmland, and pink rhododendrons, he studied her out of the corner of his eye. A healthy tan tinted her smooth skin, and as John looked at her, he noticed that she was prettier then he’d first realized—younger, too.
    She turned to face the front again, and the wind picked up her hair and sent it dancing about her face and straight shoulders. “Oh, God. I’ve really messed up this time,” she groaned, drawing out the vowels.
    “I could take you back,” he offered, wondering what had happened to make this woman run out on her friend.
    She shook her head and her pearl drop earrings brushed the smooth skin just below her jaw. “No, it’s too late. I’ve done it now. I mean, I’ve done it in the past... but this ... this beats all with a stick.”
    John turned his attention to the road. Female tears didn’t really bother him much, but he hated hysterics, and he had a real bad feeling she was about to get hysterical on him. “Ahh ... what’s your name?” he asked, hoping to avoid a scene.
    She took a deep breath, tried to let it out slowly, and grabbed at her stomach with one hand. “Georgeanne, but everyone calls me Georgie.”
    “Well, Georgie, what’s your last name?”
    She placed one palm on her forehead. Her sculpted nails were painted light beige on the bottom and white at the ends. “Howard.”
    “Where do you live, Georgie Howard?”
    “McKinney.”
    “Is that just south of Tacoma?”
    “Cryin‘ all night in a bucket,” she groaned, and her breathing quickened. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”
    “Are you going to get sick?”
    “I don’t think so.” She shook her head and gulped air into her lungs. “But I can’t breathe.”
    “Are you hyperventilating?”
    “Yes—no—I don’t know!” She looked at him with nervous, wet eyes. Her fingers began to claw at the pink satin covering her ribs, and the hem of her dress slipped farther up her smooth thighs. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it,” she wailed between big, hiccuping breaths.
    “Put your head between your knees,” he instructed, glancing briefly at the road.
    She leaned slightly forward, then fell back against the seat. “I can’t.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    “My corset is too tight... Good Lord!” Her southern drawl rose. “I’ve done it up good this time. I can’t believe it...” she continued with her now familiar litany.
    John began thinking that helping Georgeanne was not the best idea. He pressed the gas pedal to the floor, propelling the Corvette across a bridge spanning a narrow strip of the Puget Sound, quickly leaving Bainbridge Island behind. Shades of green sped past as the Corvette chewed up highway 305.
    “Sissy is never going to forgive me.”
    “I wouldn’t worry about your friend,” he said, somewhat disappointed to find that the woman in his car was as flaky as a croissant. “Virgil will buy her something nice, and she’ll forget all about it.”
    A wrinkle appeared between her brows. “I don’t think so,” she said.
    “Sure he will,” John argued. “He’ll probably take her someplace real expensive, too.”
    “But Sissy doesn’t like Virgil. She thinks he’s a lecherous old leprechaun.”
    A real bad feeling tweaked the back of John’s neck. “Isn’t Sissy the bride?”
    She stared at him with her big green eyes and shook her head. “I am.”
    “That’s not even funny, Georgeanne.”
    “I know,” she wailed. “I can’t believe I left Virgil at the altar!”
    The tweak in John’s neck shot to his head, reminding him of his hangover. He stomped on the brake as the Corvette swerved to the right and stopped on the side of the highway. Georgeanne fell against the door and grasped the handle with both hands.
    “Jesus H. Christ!” John shoved the car into park and reached for the sunglasses on his face. “Tell me you’re joking!”