Rob looked at his wife in the center of the circle of dancers. Loosening the bowtie of his tuxedo, he grinned. It was nice to see her having so much fun. What would his business associates say if they could see him right now? Rob was attending his very first high school prom because Meg insisted that he help her chaperone. She and her students had talked of nothing, but attending the school dance since the beginning of spring and finally, the big night had arrived.
Meg had gotten special permission to pick the kids up at their homes since transportation was a problem for some. He and his lovely teacher had spent two hours traveling from door to door, picking up each student in her class and posing for innumerable photos. When they at last arrived at the dance with their students who were dressed to the nines, it was not in a limo, but aboard a handicapped bus. Rob marveled at Meg’s boundless energy and enthusiasm. It was clear her students adored her and the feeling was mutual.
As the song ended, Meg made her way through the throng of teenagers smiling as she walked toward him. She was only beginning to show and he looked forward to the arrival of their first child—a little girl according to the sonogram—shortly before Valentine’s Day.
This year, he had so much to be thankful for. Meg had given him a place to call home. Her circle of friends had welcomed him with open arms and everyday was filled with the wonder of being a part of Meg’s world. They enjoyed sharing so many aspects of their lives with each other. While he introduced her to waterskiing, she fed him Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. He took her to her first red carpet movie premiere in New York and she took him to his first prom.
“Rob, you are such a trooper.” She reached for his hand.
“How so?”
“I don’t know many billionaires who would humor their wives by going to prom.”
“Haven’t you figured out I would go anywhere in the world, so long as I could be with you? I’m mad about you, Meg.”
“Oh,” she laughed, “You are getting so lucky tonight!”
Thank God,” he joked and there in front of the principal, her students, and the entire school, he kissed her.
About the Author
A New York Times and USA TODAY bestseller, Mari Carr writes contemporary erotic romance novels.
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Beach Blanket Bridesmaid
By Margo Bond Collins
Prologue
My brother is insane.
Ava Jordan waited in line to have her passport stamped. A light breeze blew through the open walls of the Antigua airport, and she lifted her hair off her neck with one hand to take advantage of the cooler air.
Why couldn’t Seth and Kristin get married in Cancun, like normal Texans who want a destination beach wedding?
Maybe Ava would have been able to pay her own way, then. She wasn’t sure which was more embarrassing—having to tell her big brother that she couldn’t afford to go, or having his rich fiancée pay her way.
At least Cancun would have meant a shorter flight. Dallas to Puerto Rico had been rough, and even the comparatively short hop out to the island had unsettled Ava’s stomach, especially after the combination bachelor-bachelorette party for Seth and Kristin at the Chargrill the night before, back in Necessity, Texas.
I shouldn’t have stayed behind to help clean up.
For that matter, Ava probably should have taken the chance to be only a guest, instead of a waitress.
But working the party meant extra pay, and Mr. Tremont turned a blind eye when she joined her brother and his friends when they did tequila shots.
Most of his friends.
Pretty much everyone except the one friend who mattered—the best man, Grant Porter.
The short line moved forward and Ava stepped up to the wooden booth, handing her passport to the bored man checking it, glad to have a reason to quit thinking about the one friend of Seth’s that she least wanted to see—and the one she would be spending the most time with over the next few days.
Moving into the line to go through customs and enter the small island of Antigua, Grant caught a glimpse of the one woman he least wanted to see—Ava Jordan, the maid of honor in her brother’s wedding.
His best friend’s little sister.
The only woman who had ever touched his heart.
The one woman he couldn’t have.
He would have known her anywhere. She stood lifting her wavy brown hair off her neck, as he had seen her do hundreds of times before. Once, when they were kids, he had asked her why she didn’t just cut it off if it bothered her so much, and she had looked at him like he was crazy.
Maybe he was crazy.
He certainly wasn’t entirely balanced when it came to her, anyway.
Nope. He wasn’t insane. But he wasn’t going to try to talk to her right now, either.
Ducking out of line, he made a show of digging through his carry-on baggage to find his passport until Ava moved through the immigration line and took her stamped passport off into the rest of the airport, presumably to make her way to the resort hotel.