The Supermodel's Best Friend (A Romantic Comedy) by Gretchen Galway Read Free Book Online Page A

you drive past them they’ll get in
trouble.”
    He glanced at the three young men in their
white tunics and baggy pants. “I can’t park my bike back
there.”
    “I’m sure they can work something out,” Fawn
said, though her smile was beginning to slip. She would never be
happy if her husband’s best friend didn’t like her, and as far as
Lucy was concerned, nobody had any reason not to like Fawn. He’d
barely even glanced at her, and everyone glanced at Fawn. Sometimes
right before driving into a telephone pole.
    “Look, it’s been a long drive and my ass is
asleep,” Miles said. “Please get out of my way.”
    Lucy stepped closer to the bike. “After you
promise—”
    Fingers wrapped around Lucy’s upper arm, Fawn
yanked her away into the darkness and hissed in her ear, “Do you
want him to hate me?”
    “But—”
    “Let the resort people handle it!”
    Lucy stopped struggling. She was ten inches
shorter than Fawn but twenty pounds heavier; she could have broken
free if she’d wanted to, but Fawn had a point. She went with her up
a handful of wooden steps to the door of the cabin marked
“Ceanothus” in metal script. The doorknob was wrapped with a large
blue satin bow, and it opened without a key.
    She glanced back at the small crowd around
the bike and decided she really should mind her own business. They
stepped inside and flicked on the lights, illuminating a cozy
interior decorated in creams and blues. A pair of four-poster beds,
heavy with pillows in all shapes and sizes, were lined up in
parallel. Though Fawn had spent every night with Huntley for
months, she wanted to share a cabin with Lucy before the
wedding—for appearances and for luck, she’d said.
    Looked like she would need all the luck she
could get. “I didn’t like the way he ignored you,” Lucy said,
dropping her purse on a loveseat near the front bay window. Someone
tapped on the door, and Fawn let in one of the guys who was
carrying their bags.
    When he left, Fawn said, “It was a hard drive
on us, and we were in the limo. Miles was probably feeling even
worse.”
    “You can’t get carsick on a motorcycle.”
    “Lucy—”
    “Sorry. Not my business.”
    “It is your business,” Fawn said. “You guys
are paired up for the ceremony.”
    Lucy had a sick feeling. “Don’t tell me he’s
the… the… ”
    Carrying her makeup case into the bathroom,
Fawn paused in the doorway. “The what?”
    “You know. The one you’re setting me up
with.”
    Fawn’s mouth fell open. “ Miles ?” She
stared at Lucy. “Do you like men that big?”
    “God, no. I just thought you might be
tempted. Maid of honor, best man, you know.”
    Fawn sighed, rolling her eyes. “No, no, no.
Can you imagine the two of you trying to get it on? You barely
reach his belly button.” Laughing, she began unloading her
inventory of cosmetics, lotions, brushes, and perfumes. “Can you
imagine?”
    Lucy smiled, grateful her friend had some
sense, and left her to unpack her own things.
    But she could imagine.
    Oh, yeah.
     
    * * *
     
    Miles watched the two women walk away, his
eyes following the round, jean-clad bottom of the curly-headed,
angry one. She was cute in a miniature tomboy kind of way, but he
was too tired and sore to flirt with anyone right now.
    He took his helmet off again to rub his eyes.
What the hell just happened, anyway? He’d been driving through the
woods, trying not to impale his skull on a tree or a deer after the
GPS and the lights gave out, thinking that when he’d finally seen
the faint glow of moving cars ahead he could find out where he was
going.
    Then the beautiful blonde and her spunky elf
friend accosted him just as his bike started making a sound it
wasn’t supposed to make, and his back told him what it thought of
riding a motorcycle for five hours after playing flag football with
prematurely strong (and sadistic) twelve-year-olds all
afternoon.
    Huntley had told him to drive past the lot
and a series of cabins