Page 65 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“I love you too,” Maggie says, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “And next time you’re in pain, please don’t try to mask it as maybe something weird you ate or that you worked out too hard.”
“I did run extra hard, and I thought I ate something weird.” He shrugs, looking exhausted.
“I’m just glad you were delirious during our meeting and not an ass trying to make my life a living nightmare,” I say.
Brody winks at me. “You’re welcome.”
“Well, I think we should him let him get some rest, and I’m sure Hardy wants to change into something else,” Everly says.
“I can’t believe you threw up on your boss,” Maggie says and then pauses. “Although it feels fitting for you. He’s seen you throw up twice, why not on him this time?”
Brody nods. “Very fitting. If I were to throw up on anyone, Hardy would be the one.”
“Why me?” I ask.
“Because you’re too pretty.” Brody smiles and then rests his eyes, shutting them while he snuggles into Maggie. “Way too pretty. Beard and…eyes…pretty.”
“And with that, I think we should leave,” Everly says with mirth.
I don’t know. I kind of like where he was going with the compliments.
After we offer Maggie and Brody a quick goodbye, Everly heads toward the hospital’s exit. “Think I can catch a ride back to the venue where my car is parked?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says. “Not a problem at all.”
“Thanks. But first…would you like to go to dinner?”
Chapter Eleven
EVERLY
Did Hardy Hopper just ask me out to dinner?
This has been one of the craziest afternoons of my life. First, Hardy’s reunion with Maple. What. A. Disaster. I’ve never seen a bumbling Hardy. So weird. I do not think Maple is into Hardy at all.And yet he still hopes.And then to end up in a hospital after driving like a madwoman to get here. Thank God Brody is okay, but again, what a weird afternoon.
Let’s not forget that the man of my dreams, the modern-day Adonis himself, asked me to share a meal with him.
Um…yes!
“You know,” he continues, “since we’ve been here for a few hours and I’m starving.” His eyes plead with mine, as if I need convincing.
Ha, sir, I would eat dinner off your nose if you asked me. Fork and knife that meal right off the waxed nostril.
And I know what you’re thinking…you’re supposed to be moving on from the bearded beauty.
You’re not supposed to be thinking about him in any other way than as the man you’re trying to help reconnect with his ex.
But…
A meal with Hardy?
I have to live for this moment, if anything, to help me through dates with men like Tomothy, who prefer to talk about gastric distress.
“I would love to. My stomach has been growling this whole time.”
“Then dinner it is,” he says, and then to my surprise places his hand on my lower back as we make our way through the hospital.
Oh yes, just like that.
