The Girl Most Likely To... by Susan Donovan Read Free Book Online Page B

you let him in? How could you do that to me?
    Madeline's voice sounded hurt. What was I supposed to doleave him out there on the porch, banging on the door, disturbing everyone? I've got other paying guests here this weekend.
    Fine. Carrie nibbled on the last rice cake in the package, calculating that with rice cakes at thirty-five calories each, she could have just eaten a jumbo-sized Snickers bar and gotten some real satisfaction, then thrown it up. Just make sure he doesn't stay long.
    Madeline sighed. Carrie, I can't just barge in on people. My guests are entitled to /some/ privacy.
    That made Carrie laugh. Little late for the high road, don't you think, Maddie?
    I'm just saying
    Get him out of there.
    How am I supposed to do that?
    Oh, I don't know! Damn, damn, damn! Carrie rooted around in her purse until she found the pill bottle, opened it, shook one out and stuck one on the back of her tongue, then swallowed. Don't forget to leave the kitchen door open so I can use your bathroom tonight.
    Madeline groaned.
    Carrie snapped closed her cell phone. Right then, she saw a light go on behind the honeymoon suite window. She knew which window it was. She'd stayed in that room many times over the years, whenever the occasion rendered it tasteless to stay at the Bohland House. That's how she and Madeline met. Carrie had been a guest at Cherry Hill many times during the course of the diabetes study. She had been a guest there the day of Aidan Bohland's funeral. A year later, she stayed there for Matt's swearing-in ceremony as chief of police. And she'd been a guest the day of the clinic's groundbreaking, when she'd smiled for the local papers like it was the happiest day of her entire life! But it wasn't.
    That illustrious day had been stolen from Carrie a year ago, when Riley was told he'd knocked up a high school skank named Kat Cavanaugh and he had a teenage kid roaming the country somewhere. It had taken Carrie twelve long months to get Riley's head screwed on straight, and nothingno thing and no onewould stand between her and her happiness again.
    Carrie relaxed her neck and shoulders and breathed deep, seeking her peaceful center. She closed her eyes to allow the positive energy to flow through her. She envisioned the bridal bouquet of red roses and holly. She pictured each miniature ice sculpture centerpiece adorned with mistletoe, glowing atop a contrasting red velvet tablecloth. She felt the snowy satin of her dress brush against her skin, the luxurious whisper of white chinchilla at the dйcolletage and wrists.
    Her moment would come in seventy-four days. If it was the last thing she ever did, she would place one foot in front of the other and float her way toward the altar in the cutest little pair of kitten-heeled satin beaded slippers this earth had ever seen. /That conniving ho!/ Carrie grabbed the phone again. First she paged the love of her life.
    Six times. No response. Then she called his cell. No answer. Then she called his answering service and demanded they page him with an emergency. She was informed that he'd already changed over for the night to the doctor in Bowden, who was covering for him.
    Do you want the doctor in Bowden?
    Carrie stared at the phone in horror, hanging up without a response because, no, she didn't want the fucking doctor in fucking Bowden. She wanted Dr. Riley-Fucking-Bohland. And she was going to get him.
    Kat stood in the doorway wearing pajamas and an expression of bewilderment. Riley decided that without the fringed boots and the haute couture, Kat seemed smaller. Softer. And as lovely as every one of the thousand fantasies that had kept him company over the years.
    Why are you here, Riley?
    He tried not to stare and failed miserably. He stared at the way her hair swept back from the gentle angles of her face, the barely noticeable tremble in her plump lower lip, the delicate movement of the tendons in her neck. He stared at the sweet, small left hand that gripped the edge of the