Common sense told him that pursuing Blair at her own wedding shower was a bad idea, yet he was as drawn to her as a plant was to sunlight. She’d changed into a simple peach dress and a pair of white sandals, and her hair hung down her back in loose waves.
The pretty brunette next to Blair watched him closely as he approached, probably wondering why there was a man at a wedding shower. Blair was talking about his cousin’s bratty children, so he decided to lead with a joke about her pushing one of Dena’s kids into the pool.
Smooth, Garrett.
Instead of stomping off, she introduced him to her friend Megan. The way she did it insinuated she didn’t want him there, but he noticed a couple of things, both in his favor. One, the way she moved a little bit closer when she turned to him, as if she felt as helplessly drawn to him as he did her, and two, her eyes had turned that enthralling shade of sky blue.
But he was struggling to stay focused on the conversation. She was gorgeous in peach. It brought out the color in her pale skin and made her eyes even bluer.
He could tell her friend—Megan—had already heard about him, not that he was surprised. Blair had told him plenty about her two best friends. “Garrett from law school?” the woman gasped.
Blair’s lips pinched as she slightly stuck out her leg and crossed her arms. “The one and the same.”
Megan lowered her voice to a hiss. “What’s he doing here?”
“Stirring up shit. What he does best.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Garrett said. Her words didn’t faze him—he knew that every second she continued to talk to him was a second in his favor. “I’m here because Nana insisted I bring her to the shower. You know me, Blair. The last thing I would choose to do with my night is play what’s in your purse with a bunch of women.”
“The fact you know a shower game is a bit frightening.”
He shrugged. “I’m a wealth of information.”
A sardonic smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Looks like you’ve done your duty. I’m sure you’re free to leave.”
He shook his head and gave her a smug grin. “No can do. Nana says she owns me for the night.” He scanned the food table. “Got anything to drink besides that pink punch on the table? Is it spiked? I think we’re all gonna need it if we’re going to endure a couple of hours with my mother and my aunt.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the argument still raging behind him. The hostess was probably regretting throwing this party right about now. Or at least inviting those two.
“You still haven’t explained how he ended up here,” Megan said, addressing them both.
Blair sighed, rolling her eyes. “It’s actually very convoluted.”
“Oh!” a woman exclaimed from behind him. “I arrived just in time. I love convoluted stories.”
Blair’s eyes narrowed, and if possible, she tensed up even more. “You already know the story, Libby.”
The woman came to a stop at his side and handed Blair a red plastic cup. “I had to sneak that out of the house. The red clashes with Knickers’ party colors, and I’m pretty sure whiskey doesn’t fit in with the food theme.”
“God bless you.” Blair snatched the cup and took a generous sip.
And this was another sign in his favor. Blair had never needed a crutch to get through adversity—hell, she thrived on it—but now she was acting like she needed alcohol to get through the evening. Sure, Libby had left to get her a drink before he arrived, but he knew it wasn’t his argumentative and judgmental relatives who were affecting her.
Blair only relied on alcohol when she was scared.
His relatives wouldn’t scare her. Not Blair. He suspected she’d tolerated his aunt the evening before in an attempt at compromise. Something else scared her, and God help him, he hoped she was scared of what she felt when she was close to him.
“I also gave Neil’s mother her lemonade. I know there’s a story there, which I’m dying to hear, but this one gets my attention first.” The black-haired beauty turned her dark chocolate eyes on him, looking him up and down like he was an amusing street corner act.
He would have known this newcomer was Blair’s other best friend even if she hadn’t been identified by name. Blair had always told him that men were drawn to Libby’s exotic beauty and vivacious personality, so he kept his attention on Blair, smiling at her as though she were the only woman in the world. After all, as far as he was concerned, it was true.
“Aunt Debra is a fundamentalist teetotaler, and I suspect last night was her first encounter with alcohol, even if she didn’t realize it,” he explained. “It will be interesting to see if she gets as loopy as she did last night.”
“I still don’t know why you’re here.” Megan stared at him and planted her hands on her hips. “Somebody better start talking.”
Blair gave him her iciest glare, but he grinned, undeterred. “I’m Neil’s cousin.”
“What?” Megan gasped, then tilted her head as she turned her attention to Libby. “Why don’t you look just as surprised as I do?”
Libby shrugged, looking like a kid with a big secret.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Blair groaned. “Now is not the time to get jealous of who knew what when. The important part is that Garrett has weaseled his way into our wedding and is now a groomsman.”
Libby tapped her foot, wearing a smug expression. “He’s also claimed the ring on her hand.”