“Layla . . .” He touched her arm. “Wait.”
His touch sent a jolt of something through her. His fingers still rested lightly there. She turned, raising her brows.
“Do you . . . need a ride? To the wedding? The roads are getting bad.”
She stared into his eyes. He had a way of catching her completely off guard. Always had. Even back when they’d been friends, back before she and Jack had gotten together.
“I mean—you probably have a date . . .”
“I did. Two hours ago. Cooper came down with strep.”
“Oh.”
Was this the answer? Was God sending her the most unlikely of lifelines?
And the real question: was she really that desperate?
Sadly, she knew the answer to that one.
“So,” he said.
Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could guess what it was.
“Pick you up at five-thirty?”
“Sure.” Layla turned away before she could reconsider. Before she could wonder why her knees were knocking too hard to hold her upright.
Showing up at her ex-fiancé’s wedding with Murphy was infinitely better than showing up alone. Wasn’t it?
The story continues in A December Bride by Denise Hunter . . .
DENISE HUNTER IS THE BEST-SELLING AUTHOR OF MANY NOVELS, including The Trouble with Cowboys and Barefoot Summer. She lives in Indiana with her husband Kevin and their three sons.