Sweet on You (The Bridesmaids Club Book 4) Read Free

Montana. Over the next eighteen months, they’d slipped into a life that suited both of them. But between Becky’s early morning starts at her florist store, and Molly’s unpredictable photographic assignments, they didn’t see an awful lot of each other.
    Sunday mornings were the one time when they both made an effort to be home. They’d go for a run together, get changed and have breakfast at Angel Wings Café. They’d catch up with how their week had gone and plan the following one.
    Molly rushed back to her bedroom and yanked open a drawer, grabbing the first clothes she saw. “Have you got the front door keys?”
    Becky walked into her room and started stretching. “In my pocket. There’s a message from Mrs. Winthrop on the phone. Are you really going to wear that?”
    Molly looked down at the t-shirt she’d pulled on. It was gray, with an emerald green Trinity College logo plastered across the front. Molly reached under her bed and found her sneakers. “What’s wrong with it?”
    “Nothing, if you don’t mind looking like a college student.”
    Molly tied her laces and laughed. “No one looking at the bags under my eyes could ever think I’m a college student.” She did some exercises to stretch her muscles, then rotated her shoulder blades a few times. “Are you ready?”
    Becky looked at the mess in Molly’s room and shook her head. “What am I going to do with you?”
    Her sister sounded so much like their grandmother that it brought tears to Molly’s eyes. “’Tis a shame when a woman who’s thirty-years-old sounds like her gran.”
    Becky smiled as Molly pushed her out of their apartment. “It’s equally a shame when one of her granddaughters can’t keep her room tidy.”
    Molly ignored her sister’s opinion of her bedroom. She was as different to her sister as chalk was to cheese. It made for an interesting living arrangement and more than one argument that neither of them would ever win.
    As they jogged toward the first corner, Molly yawned. Her body was telling her to turn around and go back to bed.
    “What time did you get home from the wedding?” Becky asked. She was hardly out of breath, zoning into running mode faster than Molly ever managed.
    “Midnight. I worked on the photos for a few hours after that.”
    Becky snorted. They both knew how much time Molly spent developing her photos. It took skill and a whole lot of luck to take an amazing photo. It took artistry to bring out the best in each frame, to layer light and color until the two merged into a perfect whole.
    For three and a half hours, Molly had teased some of the photos into life. She’d sorted through the images, added depth and drama, softness and radiance. The extra time it took her was her gift to the happy couple.
    Molly kept pace with Becky. She breathed through the worst part of their run, waiting for the kick of adrenaline to make her early wake-up call worthwhile. “How’s the world of flowers?” she asked.
    Becky quickly crossed the road, speeding toward a park a couple of blocks away. “Sweet.”
    Molly laughed at their old joke. They’d said the same thing to each other for as long as Becky had been a florist.
    Their gran had taught them the art of flower arranging almost before they could walk. They’d helped in her flower shop, made the prettiest bouquets in County Wicklow. But it had been Becky who’d really enjoyed the challenge of creating beautiful flower arrangements. She’d taken Business Studies at College, working two part-time jobs to pay the tuition fees. And now, ten years later, she was the proud owner of the newest flower store in Bozeman.
    Molly caught up with her sister. “I’ve booked our flights to Los Angeles.” Some of Molly’s photos had been accepted for an exhibition at Dunbar and Sloane, one of the most prestigious galleries in California. In six weeks’ time, she’d be heading across the country to hang her photos in their gallery. For the last few weeks, she’d