blood boiled. Now Sam sat before a cosmetician who promised to give her a fresh new look. Clothed in dress slacks and a polo shirt versus her jeans and a T-shirt, the flamboyant man, whose name was Francois, had Sam worrying exactly what the finished product might look like.
But Jennifer had sworn, “He’s the best.” And he had made her sister shine even brighter than she had earlier.
Rubbing her sweaty hands down her thighs, Sam prayed she didn’t walk away looking like a cheap dime-store whore. Last night’s behavior had been bad enough. Try as she might to recall, visions of her brazenness still waffled in her head.
No way had she wanted to hurt Kyle or mislead him. Damn the alcohol. No, damn her weakness, because in all honesty, subconsciously she had wanted one more night with Kyle—dreamed of making love to him, his body against hers, driving her—
Crap. She couldn’t think like this. They would never be able to get back what they’d had. The reminder sat beside her while another makeup artist worked her magic on Cathy.
Sam listened to her mother and Jennifer behind her chatting about the flowers.
“I can’t wait to get home and see the arrangements,” Jennifer gushed with excitement.
“Honey, we won’t have time for you to go gallivanting around the backyard. We’ll be lucky if we get you dressed by the time the wedding begins.” Their mother was always the killjoy. “Tracy phoned and said the backyard looks beautiful. If we keep the schedule tight and start the wedding at five o’clock, we should get some fantastic sunset pictures.”
Pictures? Was that all her mother thought about? Couldn’t she remember her own wedding? Or had it been as unemotional as her life with their father?
Well, this train of thought sucked. Sam focused on what the man before her was doing to her.
A neatly groomed hand reached for eyeliner and moved to waver before Sam’s eyes. “Close them and hold still, lovey.” A light pressure outlined her left eye, and then moved to the next one.
Please let it be a thin line.
“It was my fault. I undressed Kyle. Climbed into bed with him that night,” Cathy breathed, her voice almost inaudible. “I know you talked to Troy.”
Those words Sam heard perfectly well. They came through loud and clear. She jerked her head around so fast, the eyeliner dragged across her face to her temple.
“Oh no,” Francois groaned at the same time their mother yelled, “Cathy!”
He attempted to wipe away the mess Sam had made of her makeup. She flailed her arms, hands swatting at his, as she leaned forward. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
“What did you say?” Sam demanded.
Like a car crash, everyone within hearing distance, including their mother and Jennifer, grew quiet and stepped closer. You could hear a pin drop, except for the rapid beat of Sam’s heart threatening to jump out of her chest.
Her gaze clashed with Cathy’s.
Moisture pooled in her sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. Streams of tears made sooty tracks through her freshly applied powder. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Sam’s teeth were clenched so tightly they ached. Her fingers curled into fists to keep from reaching out and strangling her sister.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Cathy repeated in a mere whisper.
“Cathy, what are you talking about?” Their mother grew nearer.
“Stay out of this, Mom,” Sam barked, startling her mother to a halt. Then she turned her venomous glare back upon her sister. “Why?” The urge to shake the answer from Cathy was so strong, Sam eased out of her chair, every muscle tensed, ready to spring.
“I got cold feet. I didn’t want to marry George. For days I’d known the truth, wanted to back out of the wedding. But M-mom had spent so much money. E-everyone expected me to— We were all wrong for each other. Not perfect like you and Kyle.” Jealousy stretched between them.
The tall brunette who had been applying Cathy’s
But Jennifer had sworn, “He’s the best.” And he had made her sister shine even brighter than she had earlier.
Rubbing her sweaty hands down her thighs, Sam prayed she didn’t walk away looking like a cheap dime-store whore. Last night’s behavior had been bad enough. Try as she might to recall, visions of her brazenness still waffled in her head.
No way had she wanted to hurt Kyle or mislead him. Damn the alcohol. No, damn her weakness, because in all honesty, subconsciously she had wanted one more night with Kyle—dreamed of making love to him, his body against hers, driving her—
Crap. She couldn’t think like this. They would never be able to get back what they’d had. The reminder sat beside her while another makeup artist worked her magic on Cathy.
Sam listened to her mother and Jennifer behind her chatting about the flowers.
“I can’t wait to get home and see the arrangements,” Jennifer gushed with excitement.
“Honey, we won’t have time for you to go gallivanting around the backyard. We’ll be lucky if we get you dressed by the time the wedding begins.” Their mother was always the killjoy. “Tracy phoned and said the backyard looks beautiful. If we keep the schedule tight and start the wedding at five o’clock, we should get some fantastic sunset pictures.”
Pictures? Was that all her mother thought about? Couldn’t she remember her own wedding? Or had it been as unemotional as her life with their father?
Well, this train of thought sucked. Sam focused on what the man before her was doing to her.
A neatly groomed hand reached for eyeliner and moved to waver before Sam’s eyes. “Close them and hold still, lovey.” A light pressure outlined her left eye, and then moved to the next one.
Please let it be a thin line.
“It was my fault. I undressed Kyle. Climbed into bed with him that night,” Cathy breathed, her voice almost inaudible. “I know you talked to Troy.”
Those words Sam heard perfectly well. They came through loud and clear. She jerked her head around so fast, the eyeliner dragged across her face to her temple.
“Oh no,” Francois groaned at the same time their mother yelled, “Cathy!”
He attempted to wipe away the mess Sam had made of her makeup. She flailed her arms, hands swatting at his, as she leaned forward. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
“What did you say?” Sam demanded.
Like a car crash, everyone within hearing distance, including their mother and Jennifer, grew quiet and stepped closer. You could hear a pin drop, except for the rapid beat of Sam’s heart threatening to jump out of her chest.
Her gaze clashed with Cathy’s.
Moisture pooled in her sister’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she squeaked. Streams of tears made sooty tracks through her freshly applied powder. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Sam’s teeth were clenched so tightly they ached. Her fingers curled into fists to keep from reaching out and strangling her sister.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Cathy repeated in a mere whisper.
“Cathy, what are you talking about?” Their mother grew nearer.
“Stay out of this, Mom,” Sam barked, startling her mother to a halt. Then she turned her venomous glare back upon her sister. “Why?” The urge to shake the answer from Cathy was so strong, Sam eased out of her chair, every muscle tensed, ready to spring.
“I got cold feet. I didn’t want to marry George. For days I’d known the truth, wanted to back out of the wedding. But M-mom had spent so much money. E-everyone expected me to— We were all wrong for each other. Not perfect like you and Kyle.” Jealousy stretched between them.
The tall brunette who had been applying Cathy’s
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