Page 15 of Bridesmaid Undercover
Would he read the notes that I’m taking?
Would he question them?
What if there is only one thing that he says that is noteworthy, then what? He sees me write down one sentence and then nothing else, leaving me with an almost complete blank page?
Would he judge me for that?
Do I care if he judges me?
Of course, I care.
I care a lot about what he thinks of me for many reasons, the main one being that he invested in Maggie and I don’t want him thinking that she hired some one-sentence notetaker.
No, I should just commit everything to memory even if that goes against my nature.
No notes.
But…
Would he think I’m being irresponsible by not taking notes? You know those waiters or waitresses who take your order but don’t write it down? And it’s a long order, one with details, and all I can think is…are you going to remember? They always do, which is impressive in itself, but I do have my doubts—because I’m a notetaker.
So am I overthinking this?
Should I take the notes, or should I not take the notes?
“Hey, Everly.”
My body stiffens from the sound of his deep voice, and my eyes shoot up just as Hardy leans down and presses a soft kiss to the side of my cheek before taking a seat.
Good.
Freaking.
Lord.
I don’t miss the subtle brush of his beard over my sensitive skin.
Or the distinct scent of his cologne clinging around me.
Or the sheer masculine presence he has as he takes the seat next to mine, not across from me.
“How’s it going?” he asks, looking so incredibly handsome in a blue and orange plaid long-sleeve shirt, puffy vest, and jeans. His hair is playfully messy, and his light-blue eyes pop against his sun-soaked skin and dark-brown hair. His carved jaw is coated in a thick beard, and his lips look so well moistened that I feel myself staring at them a touch longer than I probably should.
But it’s not just his looks that has me feeling like I could lean into him and have the best hug ever. It’s his effortless charm. His smile. His caring heart that he has for everyone around him. He knows the difference between right and wrong, he uplifts ratherthan crushes, and he is a pioneer for not only entrepreneurs sifting through the world of capitalism, but he is also a champion for women in business. I know this from the way he treats his sister and her independence from their family, and from the support he’s offered Maggie.
He’s the perfect package.
Everything about him.
Perfect.
I smile, trying to disguise my nerves from sitting this close to him. “Doing great. What about yourself?”
“Pretty good.” He brings one of his legs up and crosses his ankle over his knee, casually leaning back in his chair just as a server brings him his cup of coffee. He offers her a breathtaking smile as he says, “Thank you very much.”
The girl’s cheeks flush—don’t blame her—as she says, “You’re welcome,” and then takes off.
“So.” He brings his attention back to me. “What are you drinking?”
