When she came out and saw where he was, she stopped on the back stoop and glowered like she wished she could blow her own car up.
God, you’re beautiful, Danny thought.
Funny, how the right woman could turn running tights, a black fleece, and Brooks trainers into a ball gown and stillies. Forget Deandra and those fake cubic zirconia earrings, the wafts of perfume, the lash extensions, and the push-up bras. Anne was all natural; from her sun-streaked hair that was pulled back with a band to her clean face and her soap-and-shampoo scent, she didn’t have to add anything to be a knockout.
And speaking of KO’s, the object of his lust and fascination marched over and ripped open her door. “You are such an ass.”
He put his palms up. “I’m helping. And supporting the women’s movement.”
“The hell you are.” She got in and glared at him some more. “I had an out and you threw me under the bus.”
He smiled. “Come on, you can’t miss the drama. This wedding from hell is going to be a cross between a UFC fight and that dress show Deandra forces him to watch whenever she’s over here.”
“Say Yes to the Mess.”
“Is that what it’s called? And seriously, you think I’m going through this shit on my own?”
“Yes, I do.” She shut them in together. “Moose is your roommate—”
“He’s on your crew—”
“—and this doesn’t have anything to do with me and—”
“—so it would be weird if you were not there—”
“—more importantly, Deandra can’t stand me.”
“—and Deandra doesn’t like anybody.”
They both stopped at the same time. Then Anne put her hands on the wheel and slumped. Looking over, she shook her head. “I had the best excuse on the planet and you screwed me.”
His eyes dropped to her lips before he could stop them. To cover up the slip, he laughed. “Like I said, it’s you and me against the world for this train wreck.”
“Even if you have to pretend to be a feminist, huh.”
“Hey, I love women.”
“I know, your reputation precedes you.”
Danny frowned as she started the car. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, why is he marrying her? I’ve never met more of a production in my life—”
“Anne. What was that crack about?”
Her eyes swung back to him. “Oh, come on, Danny. I know you try to hide it from me because I’m the ‘girl’ on the crew, but your exploits are always a topic of discussion, if not legend.”
“They are not.”
She put them in reverse and twisted around to look behind them. “You know they are. Look, I don’t judge. It’s none of my business what you do in your personal life, for one thing, and for another, it’s just not that interesting to me. Do not, however, try to play like you’re a shy retiree with the ladies.”
As Anne hit the gas and shot them down the thin lane that ran parallel to the tall, narrow duplex, that fleece did little to hide the contours of her body, and those leggings highlighted the sleek muscles of her thighs. And when he noticed each and every thing about her, he thought it was crazy that until he’d met her, he hadn’t realized he had a type.
Turned out he liked no-nonsense, straight-talking athletes who had a work ethic to match his own.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he muttered.
“Thank God or you’d be making a fool out of her with all those other females.” Anne K-turned in the street. “But again, it’s not anything I’m worried about. Now, where are we going?”
Nowhere, he thought. Goddamn it, we’re going nowhere.
“Mike’s Tuxedo Rental, down on Chester and Main.” He put his seat belt on to kill the dinging. “And you really have the wrong opinion about me.”
“Like I said, it’s not relevant.” She hit the gas, sending him deep into his seat on the acceleration. “All I care about is how well you fight fires and there are never any complaints on that—”
“I mean just because I’ve gone on a couple of dates—”
“Is that what you call doing the receptionist of that hair salon in the back room?”
But that isn’t a question, she thought. It’s an invitation that I may not be able to turn down.
Cursing herself, she tossed the Fiber One in his lap, popped her door and got out. “Eat that and come on. We don’t have a lot of time.”
With a pounding heart, she jaywalked through the light traffic and hopped up on the curb. Marching over to the tuxedo shop, she yanked open the door and walked into—
A sea of flowers.
Instead of mannequins sporting black-and-white penguin suits, she was surrounded by roses and carnations and bundles of baby’s breath in buckets. There were clay pots of orange and yellow mums, and then all kinds of novelty witches, ghouls, and vampires strung on fishing line from the ceiling.