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Pucking Wild (Jacksonville Rays, #2)(7)

Author:Emily Rath

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Ryan.” She says it so casually, as if she didn’t just deliver a kiss that rocked me to my foundations.

“Yeah…nice.”

“Well…bye, Ryan,” she says, shifting another step further away.

“Bye, Tess.”

She turns, snatching up her phone from the end of the island. Then she’s walking away, wholly unashamed that she’s not wearing a stitch of clothing. Her sweet curves sway—her hips, those thighs. I watch, heart pounding, as she turns the corner and disappears.

Now I’m standing here, alone in Jake Compton’s kitchen, with one thought echoing in my mind: This is only the beginning. Because there is no way I’m letting her just walk away.

Tess Owens is my dream girl…she just doesn’t know it yet.

1

“Rachel!” I shout, taking another sip of my champagne. “Come on, girl. I’m growing a beard out here!”

“Hold your horses,” she shouts back. “The freaking zipper is stuck. I’m afraid I’m gonna break it—shit—”

“Well, get out here, and I’ll fix it for you,” I say, hopping to my feet.

This night has been a total whirlwind. Rachel just had to drop the gauntlet with her sexy little taunt, telling Ilmari she’ll marry him if their game against the LA Kings was a shutout. Well, joke’s on her, ‘cause now I’m standing in her mother’s bedroom, waiting as Rachel hunts through her mom’s couture gown collection, looking for something suitable to wear to a wedding. Her wedding.

That’s right, I’m about to be a bridesmaid at my best friend’s surprise midnight four-way wedding. God, I love L.A. In true rock ‘n’ roll fashion, her dad is busy setting his house up as party central. Her brother Harrison is coordinating food, while her mom is downstairs inviting guests and frantically calling in favors to have flowers delivered.

Meanwhile, I’m on dress duty. And I mean to take this job seriously. It’s not every day the girl you thought would never settle down decides to marry three men at once. This dress needs to be one for the ages.

I slap my champagne glass down on the dresser. “Rach!” Just as I’m about to dive inside the massive walk-in closet and drag her ass out, Rachel sweeps around the corner and my mouth drops to the floor. “Ohmygod,” I gasp.

“Well? What do you think?” she says, dark eyes wide as she takes in my expression.

She stands before me in a floor-skimming, shimmery gold slip dress with barely-there straps. The bodice dips low between her breasts, clinging to her like a second skin. If I was a cartoon, I’d have big hearts in my eyes.

“This is as close as we’re getting to a wedding dress,” she says, smoothing the dress over her hips. “I’m sorry, but I’m not wearing pink, and all the black ones felt too austere.”

“Rachel, is that runway Versace?” I say.

She does a little half-turn, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Umm…no, I think it’s custom, honestly. Mom wore this to the Grammys back in the 90s. I tried it on once or twice when I was a kid.”

Her only jewelry is a pair of heavy pearl drop earrings and the stack of thin gold bracelets she habitually wears. Oh, and her dainty septum ring of twisted gold. Her dark hair is tied up in an artfully messy bun, showing off the delicate curve of her neck. Her makeup is just a little bit smeared under the eye.

She looks perfect.

“Well?” she says with a huff, arms flapping as she does a little half-turn, peeking over her shoulder again.

“Oh, honey,” I say on a sigh. “You look so beautiful. They’re gonna die.”

She smiles back at me before gasping. “Oh—the jacket!” Then she’s disappearing back inside the closet. “Get in here and help me,” she calls. “Tell me if you think this is too much.”

I step through the doorway into the huge walk-in closet to see Rachel fiddling a silver beaded jacket off its hanger.

“Do you think these will look weird together?” she says, holding up the shimmery silver jacket. “I thought it made kind of a cool mixed metals statement,” she adds with a shrug. “And the silver at least feels a little more bridal but…you hate it. It’s too much.” She’s staring at me again, waiting for my approval.

I swallow back my happy tears. “No, I think it’s unique. It’s rocker glam and totally you.” I step in, taking the jacket from her. “Here, let me help you, honey.”

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