The Sometime Bride by Ginny Baird Read Free Book Online Page A

went into sliding on control-top panty hose without running them silly. But Mike Davis was strictly wash-and-wear. Carrie was certain he’d look just as good stepping out of a shower as he had coming out of the pool. What was keeping that infuriating man?

    Mike froze in his tracks, unable to believe what he was seeing. Who was that old goat sending his roving eyes all over Carrie’s plunging neckline? And why was she laughing and tossing back her head in that coquettish fashion that said whatever he was telling her really floated her boat?
    Mike blew a hard breath and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking he was probably blowing things all out of proportion. That couldn’t be Wilson, could it? Come back to claim his bride? The man was old enough to be her father!
    Carrie turned her head in Mike’s direction, and he ducked back behind the fanning leaves of a potted fern. Mike needed to really think this thing out. Maybe if he asked one of the waiters…
    Mike jumped a mile high when he felt the feminine touch at his forearm.
    “Not going to find me in there,” Carrie said, motioning to the spreading fern.
    “No, of course not,” Mike said. “I just dropped a…” Well, as he wasn’t wearing a tux, he certainly couldn’t say cufflink.
    “An engagement ring?” Carrie questioned with a teasing smile.
    “Why, no. No… A pen.”
    “Right,” Carrie deadpanned.
    Mike’s brow shot up. “Pen? Ha-ha! I said pen, didn’t I? No, I actually meant—”
    Carrie twisted her lips and studied the color sweeping up his neckline. Mike hadn’t dropped a darn thing into that planter. He’d been spying on her!
    “Well, look, if it isn’t the Hope Diamond you’ve dropped in that dirt, how about you forget about it for now and come on over to the table. There’s someone there I’d like you to meet.”
    Mike looked her up and down and swallowed hard. God, was she gorgeous in that long black dress. It was simple but elegant, just like her. “Oh?” Mike asked, clearing his throat. “Friend of yours? Old…friend?”
    Carrie held back a laugh at his curious expression. She couldn’t decide if his color was more eggplant or pomegranate. But why? Over Charles Gilpatrick?
    “Why, yes. I suppose you could say that. At least you’ve got it half right.”
    Darn it. Mike knew it! Half right meaning he’d been correct about the old part. Clearly Wilson would no longer be Carrie’s friend. But why, then, had she been carrying on in such a flirtatious fashion? Encouraging the geezer, who was, holy cow, old enough to be her father! When he’d agreed to pose as Carrie’s fiancé, she hadn’t told him he’d have to dust his head with baby powder!
    “Listen, Carrie, I don’t know if now is the time…”
    But she’d already latched on to his arm and was dragging him toward her table. “No time like the present.”

    The white-haired gentleman stuck out his arm. “Wilson Haywood, I presume.”
    Mike firmly gripped his hand, slam-dunked by the realisation. Hey, whoa! It took every ounce of restraint Mike had not to thumb his chest like an idiot and say, “Who, me?”
    He shot a quick glance at Carrie, who slipped him a sly wink. Oh, so it was showtime, was it? A little practicing up for his big debut? Yeesh! The least Carrie could have done was warn him. Well, now, maybe it was her turn to be caught off guard.
    Mike gave the older man’s hand a firm squeeze. “Indeed it is. And, you…?”
    “Sweetheart,” Carrie said, beaming a bit too radiantly, in Mike’s opinion. “This is Charles Gilpatrick, the innkeeper here.”
    Mike’s chest wall relaxed a notch. Of course he was the innkeeper. Who on earth else could he have been?
    “I trust,” Mr. Gilpatrick said, directing his question at Mike, “you and Ms. St. John are enjoying your stay here?”
    Mike stepped over and drew a tight arm around Carrie’s shoulders. “Delightful place. You should be very proud of what you’ve done with it. You’ve only been in