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The Bridesmaid's Best Man. Susanna CarrЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Bridesmaid's Best Man - Susanna Carr


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to worry about. But she should stop the liquid diet. It can make a person tired and irritable.”

      Robin’s eyes widened. “You think Britt is irritating?”

      She really needed to be more careful with her words. Didn’t she know by now that the bridal party was a walking, talking minefield? All the competition, insecurities and petty jealousies. Angie already had a sneaky suspicion that being Brittany’s bridesmaid wasn’t going to strengthen their relationship. She needed to work harder if she wanted to stay friends with Patrick. “No, I said—”

      The hot pink stage curtains were ripped back and five strippers stood silently on the dark stage. They wore black neckties and low-slung leather pants. Angie jumped, startled, as the women around her went wild.

      Robin raised her arms and whooped with delight as the first few notes of “It’s Raining Men” played. Angie dutifully smiled and clapped as she watched the men start their routine around Brittany. The audacious choreography and frenetic lighting hid the fact that only a few were good dancers.

      Angie’s mouth dropped when she saw Brittany eagerly lay on the stage as one of the strippers straddled her. No one could accuse the bride-to-be of being shy. Brittany enjoyed the special attention.

      The men had lean, athletic builds. Angie admired the hard abs and strong arms. She knew the work they had to put into getting sculpted bodies. They were attractive. Sexy. But she didn’t feel the need to go crazy at the sight of them.

      Perhaps it was because she worked as a personal trainer and was surrounded by muscular men every day. Or it could be that she felt self-conscious having a man gyrate in her face until she stuffed money in his sequined thong.

      Or it could be none of those reasons. It could be that she wasn’t acting as assertive and enthusiastic as the other women because she couldn’t let go of her inhibitions. She tried that before. She had felt safe when she was with Cole. She knew she could be as outrageous and as daring as she wanted. She’d played out her deepest, darkest fantasies with him.

      And then he dumped her. She was hurt and humiliated. Was she more mild than wild? Was she unable to compete with other women? She was afraid of the answer and had kept the sensual side of herself under wraps ever since.

      Angie looked away from the stage as the knot in her stomach tightened and a flush of embarrassment crept up her neck. Not only had she felt safe with Cole, but at the same time, she’d also felt wild. She found it weird. No other man made her feel that way.

      But she didn’t want to think about that. She couldn’t. It was better to accept that she didn’t have a sensual side and move on. One day she’d regain her confidence. However, she wasn’t going to lower her guard here, and definitely not with a stranger. It would be with someone she loved and trusted.

      “Aren’t these guys hot?” Robin yelled over the music.

      “They are.” Angie continued to clap to the beat as Brittany got to her feet and danced with the strippers. Some of her moves were downright dirty.

      Robin elbowed her. “The bridesmaids get the next lap dances.”

      Angie lurched forward and her stomach twisted violently. “Up there on stage?”

      “No, that honor is reserved for the bride. But you better pick one before Heidi grabs them all. Which one do you want?”

      “Oh...it doesn’t matter.” She knew what would happen. The more audacious the dancer, the more uptight she would be. She was going to be laughed at for her discomfort. She wanted to refuse the dance but she had to act like a team player. She studied the men on stage, hoping to find one who understood personal space and boundaries.

      “I can’t decide between the guy groping Brittany or the one in the back.”

      Angie looked at where Robin pointed. The guy reminded her of Cole, from his short black hair to his solid, muscular build. She felt a surprising flutter of interest as her gaze traveled down his smooth chest, defined abs and lean hips. He had power and grace. He looked a lot like Cole. In fact—

      She gasped and dragged her gaze to the man’s face. She recognized the square jaw and full lips. The high cheekbones and strong nose. The short dark hair that felt soft to the touch. “No...way.”

      “What?” Robin asked. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

      Angie slumped into the nearest chair. She felt hot and cold from the shock but she continued to stare at Cole Foster from across the room. Her ex-boyfriend was on his hands and knees as he sinuously rolled his hips.

      “Where the hell did he learn how to move like that?” She realized she had said it aloud and pressed her lips together.

      “Who?” Robin asked. “The stripper? Do you know him?”

      “No. I don’t know him at all.” She had shared intimate moments with this man. Loved him with her body and soul. Once she had bared it all to him, but it had been a mistake. It turned out she wasn’t enough for Cole. And now she saw the truth with her own eyes as he stood on stage, performing for a group of panting women. “I thought he looked like someone I used to date.”

      Robin gave a bark of laughter. “Yeah, right. You dating a stripper.”

      “Stranger things have been known to happen,” Angie murmured. Like Cole becoming a stripper. It didn’t make sense. When she dated him, Cole had been a detective on the police force. And a good one at that.

      Angie watched, stunned and openmouthed, as Cole ripped off his necktie and wrapped it around Brittany’s waist, pulling the bride-to-be closer as the group of women screamed louder and reached for him.

      Angie crossed her arms and sat stiffly in her chair. She wanted to disappear into the shadows. Leave before Cole saw her. She felt confused. Stupid. Territorial.

      She felt betrayed and that didn’t make any sense. At one time, this guy had made her feel special. Now it looked as if he knew how to make every woman feel that way. She wasn’t dating Cole anymore and it didn’t matter what he did. So why did she feel angry?

      Cole turned his head and his gaze snagged hers. Angie’s breath hitched in her throat as she stared into his blue eyes. He didn’t look surprised to see her. It was as if he had known she was here all along.

      She saw the determination flash across his face. Uh-oh. She knew that look. Angie wanted to leap from her seat but instead she braced herself. Her eyes widened with horror when she watched Cole jump from the stage. The women grabbed at him but he didn’t pay them any attention as he strode straight for her.

      * * *

      THESE WOMEN WERE animals. Cole Foster tugged his leg away from a woman’s fierce grip and ignored the fistful of dollars that another waved in his face. He’d never felt like a piece of meat until tonight. The crowd was rabid and ready to rip off his clothes.

      He was having a difficult time focusing on his case and that wasn’t like him. He was committed to this job—his real job—and prided himself on his professionalism. Yet all he could think about was Angie sitting in the back row.

      She hasn’t changed a bit, Cole realized. Angie Lawson was strong, athletic and a natural beauty. Her wavy black hair was pulled back in a casual ponytail and she wore no makeup. She didn’t need to. She had a healthy glow and vibrant energy that a person couldn’t get in a bottle.

      He noticed she wore a black tank top and jeans. He saw the strappy heels and knew that had to be her mother’s interference. Angie dressed to hide or blend into the crowd. But she couldn’t hide from him. He was always aware of her and nothing would ever change that.

      It wasn’t his plan to blatantly approach her. It could risk his assignment but he saw her rigid stance and crossed arms. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was tight with anger. Cole knew she was trying to hold it all in but she was about to blow his cover.

      Maybe he should have given her an early warning. He knew she would be here, he had been tracking the bridal party


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