Don't Tell the Wedding Planner by Aimee Carson Read Free Book Online Page A

her life. She briefly pressed her eyes closed. The shock of her arrest had been difficult enough for her, but it had been horrible for her parents. Years of being the perfect kid, the perfect student, had made her fall from grace all that much more painful. Especially given their car had been plastered with so many Student of the Week bumper stickers the chrome on the bumper had all but disappeared.
    “I called my parents, who couldn’t come to help me out, so they sent Colin.” She winced at the memories of the complete and utter humiliation when Colin had strode into the police headquarters, clearly furious. “He drove up to Wimbly, even though I didn’t ask him to,” she said, realizing she was rambling again. “And then, of course, things between the two of us started to fall apart and I—”
    The look on Matt’s face gave no indication as to what he was thinking. The knot in her stomach tangled a little tighter, so she hurried on, beyond ready to push on to the next subject.
    “I just think, after everything they’ve been through, Penny and Tommy deserve the wedding of the century,” she said.
    The tension in his body had eased a bit, and he leaned back against the wall, arms folded across the chain mail on his chest. For one bizarre moment, she realized she missed his hands on her skin. Callie smoothed her hand down the satiny skirt of the underdress.
    “And if I can help Colin out with a fantastic publicity opportunity and prove to my parents my business is a success, all at the same time, so much the better.”
    Parked against the wall, Matt continued to study her.
    She still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. That she was an idiot? That she deserved to return to New Orleans, the stink of shame following on her heels? True.
    But jeez, the whole mess had taken place ten years ago.
    “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked.
    There was a two beat pause before he answered. “You’re right.” She held her breath as he went on. “The dress does flatten your breasts too much.”
    A bark of surprised laughter escaped Callie, one part humor and a hundred parts absolute relief. “Oh, my God, you really are a perv.”
    He smiled, crinkles appearing around his eyes, the tension of the moment finally broken. “Are we done with the confession now?”
    Callie released her death grip on her skirt, muscles finally relaxing.
    “Beyond done,” she said.
    “Good. Now could you please help me get this son of a bitch off?” He pulled at the chain-mail shirt a bit, letting it drop back to his chest with a ching. “I’m about to die of heat stroke here. And no way in hell do I want to pass out and be carted off to the nearest emergency room in this getup.”
    “Sure, turn around.”
    She spent a minute wrestling with the clasp at the nape of his neck, her fingers fumbling a bit as she tried to ignore the soft tickle of hair against her fingers. Against her will, awareness washed over her again, and her gaze slid past his broad shoulders down to his trim waist and lean hips. The body looked solid and rugged and was impossible to ignore, especially in the kind of getup that hinted at strong heroes, epic battles and undying devotion to a lady.
    Ridiculous, Callie. You’re absolutely ridiculous.
    “Now face me and lean in,” she said.
    Matt turned and bent forward at the waist, and Callie pulled the hem up his trunk and over his head. The chain mail was heavier than it looked, pulling the shirt beneath along, as well. The whole ensemble dropped to the floor with a clank and Matt straightened up.
    Holy hell. What had she done?
    Now she had to hold herself together in the presence of a shirtless Matt with sexily mussed hair. While her heart thudded, Callie tried to drag her gaze from Matt’s chest, but failed. The well-honed muscles had a dusting of hair that tapered at his waist, passing over the flat abdomen and disappearing beneath his pants.
    A small smirk quirked his lips. “Are you checking out my