Barefoot in White (Barefoot Bay Brides) (20 page)

How could she possibly say no to that? It was downright heroic. Frustrating as hell, but damn if it didn’t make her like him more.

“Okay. Deal.” She stepped back, nodding. Very slowly, she walked to the side of the pool to the three steps that would take her to solid ground, away from Nick.

One foot in front of the other, Willow did something she’d never done in her whole life. She walked away from a man and let him see every inch of her bare ass. As she walked up the steps, she looked over her shoulder.

He was staring, his jaw loose, his eyes wide.

“Write fast, Nick.”

Chapter Seventeen

After what could be technically classified as a sleepless night—since even when she did drift off, her dreams were full of Nick Hershey—Willow rose early for a run she hoped would burn off some of the…energy.

If that’s what she could call the achy, hollow, needy feeling mixed with spurts of adrenaline and anticipation. On her way to the kitchen to whip up a breakfast smoothie she didn’t really think she could drink, she heard a knock on the back door and was certain she knew who it was.

Ari was still in her pajamas, coffee in hand. “Dying to know how it went.”

Laughing, Willow opened the door wider to let her in. “Where’s Gussie?”

“I just stopped at her apartment, and she was getting out of the shower and starting her makeup. I can’t wait that long.”

Willow gestured her to the island counter and pulled out her blender. “How are the bets running?”

“I bet you told him. Gussie said you chickened out.”

“What obscure candy did you wager with?”

“Jujubes.”

Willow made a face. “Better make an appointment with the dentist, Ari, because you won.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait a sec.” She pulled out her phone and touched the screen. “I’m texting her.”

It took Gussie less than a minute to appear at the door, wrapped in a teal robe with giant orange polka dots, a pink wig already in place, and one eye totally made up. The other was bare naked, giving her the look of living, breathing before-and-after pictures. “That’s not the only thing we bet on,” she said, pointing an eyeliner pencil at Willow. “I put good candy on you doing everything but.”

“My money was on all the way,” Ari admitted.

Willow rolled her eyes. “Give her back the Jujubes, Ari.”

“No, we bet the Jujubes on telling him. For the deed itself? Nik-L-Nips. Do you have any idea what they are worth?”

Wax bottles full of sugar water? “Those are so gross. Why don’t you two eat Hershey Kisses like normal women?”

“Ahem, speaking of
Hershey
kisses.” Gussie wiggled her one carefully applied brow. “We saw you.”

“What?”

“Coming in at one,” Ari said. “I was up and happened to look out my window when you pulled in. You did not go over there in a turquoise minidress. I texted Gussie.”

“Shit,” Willow murmured, fighting a laugh. “It’s like living with the FBI.”

“Gory details, please.” Gussie tapped her eyeliner on the counter. “Not one thing left out.”

She puffed a sigh but couldn’t really act put-upon. For one thing, she’d do the same if the tables were turned, and for another…she was dying to share everything. “He thinks we need to build up to a…a perfect deflowering.”

“Ahhh,” Ari sighed.

“It’s sweet, yeah,” Willow said. “But come on. I’ve waited twenty-nine and a half years. I’m built up already.”

“But maybe he’s right,” Gussie countered. “You might think you’re ready, but are you ready in every way?”

“Mentally, emotionally, physically, and every otherly. I am ready.”

But Gussie shook her head.

“You mean, do I, like, have birth control or something?” Willow asked.

“Actually, I was worried about this last night, but didn’t want to kill your mojo.” She reached to drag the neckline of Willow’s old running shirt to the side “Just as I thought. A disgusting bra.”

“I’m not going to do the deed in my sports bra.”

“But do you have gorgeous underwear?” Gussie demanded. “Are you properly groomed in your nether regions?”

Willow snorted, not even sure she wanted to answer that.

“And maybe you have some pertinent questions,” Ari said. “Gussie’s right, and honestly, so is Nick. This is a big deal, and his willingness to draw it out and make it awesome is not just romantic, it’s practical. You can be as ready as one of our brides.”

“Agree!” Gussie exclaimed. “Do you know what’s on our schedule today, Ari?”

“Of course. I just checked the master calendar, and we have no meetings except a phone conference with Deanna Bartlett at eleven.”

“Nice bride,” Gussie said. “And she’ll understand if we push that back a few hours.”

“Don’t forget the Peyton-Orinson wedding party starts to arrive tomorrow morning,” Willow reminded them. “With Jill Peyton in the lead.”

“Not-nice bride,” Gussie sighed. “So this is our last day with some relative freedom. If we leave now, we can hit Silk for some serious shopping and maybe a spa visit with a nice lunch before we get back to work.”

“What is Silk?” Willow asked.

“An absolutely to-die-for lingerie boutique. They have one up in Boston where I used to send my brides all the time, and I found out they opened one in Naples. We are going there this morning.”

“She’s right,” Ari agreed. “A deflowering occurs only once. Let’s make it beautiful for you.”

Willow looked skyward again, but she couldn’t help smiling for how much she adored these two women. “Spoken like a true wedding consultant.”

An hour later, they were inhaling the powdery, irresistible satins and laces of exquisite undergarments. They giggled like a bridal party all the way back to the oversized dressing rooms with soft lighting and rooms for privacy or showing off. Silk was glorious, and so was the lingerie sold in the elegant boutique.

In her dressing room, Willow admired the array of breathtaking bras and camisoles spread over lavender, tufted sofas, listening to Gussie and Ari’s chatter outside the door. Willow slipped into a new bra—smaller cup size than her last, hooray! But that wasn’t why she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. Right at that moment, she loved her life and her friends, and…
now she had to turn to the mirror.

This was the part she hated most—at least for the vast majority of her life. This was why she didn’t go underwear shopping with friends. This was why she was still a virgin at twenty-nine. This was why she avoided three-way mirrors.

Slowly, she turned and…oh.

She gave into a small shudder of delight.

“How’s that one fit?” Ari asked.

“They have it in…” Gussie’s voice faded, but maybe that was because the blood in Willow’s head pounded so hard as she stared in the mirror. Nick was going to see this.

Outside, she heard some voices, the attendant asking a question and some other footsteps, but it all simply faded to white noise as Willow stared in the mirror.

Well, look at you, girl.
She’d studied her body in the mirror plenty over the last three years, but never while wearing a baby-blue lace bra that made her breasts look young and perky. Every run, every sit-up, every uneaten cookie, every damn spinach leaf had been worth this moment. Chills rose over her skin and tears welled up as she looked at herself…as Nick would see her.

“He’s going to love this,” she whispered, loud enough for the girls to hear. But they didn’t answer. “Ari? Gussie?” She unlatched the door and tried to inch it open, but one of them was pressed against it, holding it closed tight. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Um…stay in there for a…
what should I do
?” Willow could tell the last question was fired at Ari with a minor note of panic.

“Gussie, what is going on?” Willow demanded, giving the door a little nudge.

Gussie tugged it open, her bottle-brush lashes wide with something unspoken.

“What is it?” Willow asked.

“Let me in,” Gussie whispered.

Confused, Willow opened the door, but Gussie slipped in and closed it instantly behind her, staring at Willow. “You’re not going to believe who’s out there.”

And then she knew, her chills turning to something more heated and excited. It had to be Nick. This was something he’d do. Her mind whirring, she tried to figure out how. He’d probably asked Misty, who’d been given the name of the place from Gussie.

And he was here buying something to make her first time amazing.

“I don’t want to see him,” she whispered.

“Him?” Gussie’s brows furrowed under her pink bangs. “There’s no him. Just her.”

“Her?” Disappointment spiraled, but that didn’t matter. “One of our brides?”

She shook her head, gnawing on her lower lip.

“Who is it?” Willow demanded.

“Didn’t you hear what the attendant said?”

“No.”

Ari tapped on the door. “She’s gone,” she whispered.

What the hell? Willow inched Gussie out of the way and pulled the door open. “Who’s gone?”

“Shhh!” Ari said, finger to her lips. “Unless you want to talk to her, in which case, have at it.”

She stepped to the side, and Willow peeked around her, seeing no one else in the plush gathering area of the dressing rooms. “Who is it?”

Ari and Gussie looked at each other, a thousand words silently exchanged, but Willow didn’t catch a single one. “Who is it?” she demanded, her voice rising.

“Oh, you left one in the dressing room!” The attendant’s voice preceded the woman who sailed into the room. “It’s right here, Mrs. Zatarain.”

Willow’s world tilted a little.

“She’s in the store,” Ari said softly.

Willow tried to swallow, but her throat was bone dry, every muscle tense and frozen.

The attendant scooped up a burgundy silk robe hanging over a chair, catching the look from all three women as they stared at her.

“Did you see her?” the woman asked breathlessly. “Ona Z herself is shopping here! Can you believe it?”

No, Willow almost said. She didn’t believe it. But, then, Ona was a world traveler, and this boutique catered to wealthy women.

Ari turned, her face ghost-white. “This is not a coincidence,” she whispered, her words barely puffs of air. “The universe has put her in your path for a reason, Willow. Why else would she be here?”

To ruin her day? To steal the simple moment of joy she’d been embracing? To send her back to a life of criticism and judgment and disappointment? What universe would
do
that to her?

“A trunk show, a TV interview, a meeting with models,” Willow explained, knowing exactly how her mother lived and worked. “Lots of things could get her to a place like Naples, where the wealthy congregate.”

“Do you want to talk to her?” Gussie asked.

When Willow didn’t answer, Ari’s look made it clear what she thought was the right thing to do. “Paths don’t cross for no reason,” she said.

Willow could feel herself slowly shaking her head.

“Willow,” Gussie said, giving her a slight nudge. “You could show her how you look. Show her the gorgeous woman you’ve become. Maybe you could—”

“No.” They both recoiled at the force of the word, making Willow gesture a quick apology. “I mean, not now.”

But she meant
not ever
.

“Are you sure?” Ari asked softly. “You may never get another moment like this one.”

“We can only hope.”

“Willow,” Gussie said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “She
is
your mother. Are you sure you don’t want to show her how far you’ve come? It might be good for you.”

Willow swallowed the retort, not expecting someone who’d never met Ona Zatarain to understand what it was like to be raised by her. It
wouldn’t
be good for her—it would be like throwing ice-cold water over this lovely day of excitement and anticipation.

She could just imagine the reaction.
Hmmm. Not quite there yet, Willow, but maybe someday you will be the girl I wanted you to be.

Except that she wouldn’t ever be that girl. Not for her and maybe…not for Nick.

Well, thank you very much, Ona Z. You’ve managed to suck my joy once again.

“No,” she replied, backing into the dressing room. “I don’t want to talk to her. Let me know when she’s gone.”

Chapter Eighteen

As much as he wanted to put the headphones on and blast his ears, Nick chose the sensible option and plugged his iPhone into the sound system built into the villa, and let Z-Train’s
Garden of Evil
rock the house and patio instead.

Not quite the same, but it did the job, which was to celebrate the end of a chapter…the fifth since he’d seen Willow Ambrose three nights ago. That was about to change. Grabbing an icy bottle of water, he stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and flopped on a chaise next to the pool.