Finally, photos were finished and they headed toward the barn, where Des and Logan were introduced as husband and wife to a round of loud applause.
The bridal party surrounded them while they danced, and then the wedding party all danced so the photographer could take pictures, which meant she and Bash danced together. She absolutely would not notice how tall he was, even though she had on a pair of very high heels.
She also refused to notice how well they fit together, or how perfectly he danced. He wasn't clumsy at all. And he sure did clean up well. He might not be a suit and tie kind of guy, but the man was born to wear a tux.
"You're staring at me," he said. "And I know I don't have spinach in my teeth--yet."
"I was just thinking how great you look in a tux."
He gave her a sexy smile. "That might almost make your list, Chelsea."
She shook her head. "No, it wouldn't, because you don't wear them all the time."
"This is true. These things are uncomfortable as hell. I prefer jeans and a T-shirt."
He also fit those quite well. Not that she paid much attention.
"Where's Lou tonight?"
"My neighbors are watching her. They have a Shih Tzu that Lou sees at the backyard fence, and they've gotten friendly, so Kerry and Bill offered to keep her tonight."
"That's nice of them."
"Yeah."
"What do you do with her when you're working?"
"She comes with me. I bring her crate, but the patrons are getting used to her wandering around. She's pretty well-behaved and she's adjusting to hanging out at the bar. When she gets tired, she wanders into her crate and goes to sleep."
"I'm glad you're both adjusting."
"Me, too. Though we have to work on her not eating things she's not supposed to."
Chelsea tilted her head back. "Like?"
"My tennis shoe, the other day. Now it has gnaw marks on the toe."
She couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe she needs more chew toys."
"That's what Emma told me. But I bought her toys. She still ate my shoe."
Chelsea shrugged. "Don't ask me. I don't have dogs."
He twirled her around, circling the dance floor with ease. She had to admit she felt comfortable in his arms, almost as if she belonged there. She'd danced with a lot of guys before. Some of them were clumsy, some stepped on her toes, and some--like Bash--danced with confidence. He held her hand firmly, but didn't crush it. He had a good hold on her back, and he directed her, instead of expecting her to lead, like a lot of guys who had no idea how to dance.
She had to admit, she liked that. And the way he looked at her. His gaze didn't wander. He had gorgeous eyes, and amazing lashes. He pulled her closer, her breasts pillowed against his chest.
She shouldn't enjoy being held in his arms, but she did. He had a rock-hard body, and she'd felt every inch of it against hers when he'd kissed her at his house. She also hadn't been so drunk last week that she couldn't remember how good he'd tasted when she'd kissed him again.
Foolish thoughts. He wasn't the right guy for her. Still, that temptation lingered. And his hand roamed along her back ...
"Place is full," Bash said, drawing her attention away from the way their bodies glided together.
"Yes."
"So are you going to try to find Mr. Perfect here tonight?"
She frowned at his smug smile. How could he be so delicious to look at and to kiss and so utterly wrong for her? "I might."
As the song ended, he took a step back. "I'll be sure to be on the lookout for him. If I see someone who I think fits, I'll send him your way."
There it was again, that feeling of rightness in his arms, while he was trying to find someone else for her.
So. Irritating.
She nodded. "You do that."
She walked away and headed for the main table, where the wedding party would sit for dinner. Where she'd be required to sit next to him again.
But only temporarily. She would be scouting this wedding for Mr. Perfect.
And it sure as hell wouldn't be Bash.
Chapter 13
Bash leaned against the bar, nursing a bottle of beer as he watched couples crowd the dance floor.
He'd done his duty and stood up for his best friend tonight. Logan and Des were currently tangled in the crush of bodies on the dance floor doing some kind of line dance to a country song.
Logan couldn't dance for shit, but he was doing his best to keep up with his bride. Bash pondered whipping out his phone to get video of this, but he knew Logan wouldn't be embarrassed like some of his other friends would be. He'd just watch the video and laugh. So what was the point?
But he really was a bad dancer. Good thing Des loved him. She grabbed his arm and kept trying to direct him to the correct foot to lead off on.
Waste of time. Logan would never get it.
Bash slid his empty toward the bartender and asked for another, feeling strange to be on this side of the bar tonight. It was a good thing he had great staff to fill in for him at No Hope at All. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had two Saturday nights off. Probably ...
Never. He worked weekends. It was his bar, his baby. He took nights off during the week, but weekends were busy, and it was his responsibility to be there. Fortunately, over the past few years he'd hired competent staff, and Hall, his assistant manager, was doing a great job. He knew Hall could handle anything that came up tonight. Bash could relax and enjoy himself.
He pushed off the bar and wandered around, stopping to visit with people he knew, which was pretty much everyone except the handful of Hollywood people in attendance. And he actually had gotten to know a few of those as well. Colt and Tony made regular visits to Hope to hang out with Des and Logan, and they often stopped at the bar to visit, so he'd gotten close to them. They were great guys and a good, solid couple.
His gaze strayed across the room and landed on Chelsea, who was deep in conversation with Jeff Armstrong, one of Hope's ER docs.
Bash frowned. He knew Jeff was single. He mentally compared Jeff with Chelsea's list.
He didn't see a fit there. Maybe according to her list, but Bash just didn't see it.
When Chelsea got up and walked away, Bash met her halfway across the room.
He grasped her arm. "Jeff Armstrong?"
"What about him?"
"I don't see it."
She lifted her chin. "Why not?"
"He works a lot of nights and weekends in the ER, ya know."
"I do know that. And we were just chatting."
"Did he ask you out?"
"And this is your business in what way, Bash?"
In no way. He didn't even know why he cared who she decided to go out with. But he did. "I told you I was going to find men for you that met your list, right?"
"You did say that."
"If you've already found one, I won't waste my time."
Her gaze met his, and that collision of blue green never failed to tighten his gut. "Really, Bash. Either way, don't waste your time."
He slid his hand down her arm, tangling his fingers with hers. "Oh, but I'm interested in your happiness, Chelse."
She let out a laugh. "I'll bet you are."
He shifted in closer. "In ways you can't even imagine."
He caught the wary look in her eyes.
"Stop that, Bash," she whispered.
"Stop what?"
"You know what. Teasing me like that."
His thumb traced the inside of her wrist, felt the rapid beat of her pulse. "I never tease. I only ... offer."
He liked watching the high wash of color appear on her cheeks, and the way the rhythm of her breathing changed whenever they talked.
There was something going on between them, and he wanted to explore it. He knew Chelsea did, too.
"Wanna take a walk with me?"
She cocked a brow. "Absolutely not."
He gave her a half smile. "You change your mind, you know where to find me."
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He let go of her hand and turned around, then walked away.
No, Jeff Armstrong was definitely not the right guy for her.
Chelsea headed into the main house, upstairs and into the bedroom she'd stayed in last night. She closed the door and sat on the bed, but her pulse was still racing, so she stood and went into the bathroom and turned on the light.
Her cheeks were pink and her body felt warm despite the night chill in the air. And it wasn't like she was wearing a heavy dress. These strapless bridesmaid dresses were light and airy, and she felt like she was walking on a cloud. So she wasn't overdressed.
She was ... overheated. And it was all Bash's fault. She'd spent twenty minutes having a very nice conversation with Jeff Armstrong. He was tall, dark haired, good looking, intelligent, attentive, and a great conversationalist. He was a fine doctor, and he'd lived in Hope his entire life, which was why he'd decided to come back there and practice medicine. She'd really enjoyed their conversation. A conversation that left her feeling ... nothing. She'd so wanted to feel something. Anything. But all she'd left with was the feeling that some woman was going to be very lucky to have him someday.
And that woman was never going to be her, because they'd had absolutely no chemistry. No pop or zing or zap or anything like that.
Three minutes with Bash and she'd been about to self-combust. In the span of one short conversation he'd managed to irritate her and send her libido into overdrive. What was it about that man, anyway? Why did she keep allowing him to get to her?
"Chelsea? Are you in here?"
At the sound of Megan's voice, she quickly turned on the water and grabbed a washcloth, dampening it so she could cool down her wrists. Maybe that would help douse the flame.
"In the bathroom."
"Are you all right?"
She rubbed the washcloth over her wrists and arms, then laid it over the sink and turned to her friend with a smile. "I'm fine. I just got a little warm out there."
"Really? I would think the walk over here would have cooled you off. It's a little chilly outside."
"Maybe it's hot flashes."
Samantha peeked her head in as well. "Seriously, Chelsea? You're a little too young for hot flashes."
"Whatever. I had some wine. Maybe I'm drunk."
Megan inspected her. "You are not drunk. I know your drunk look."
The drawback of having friends who knew you all too well. "Whatever. I'm fine now. Did you need me for something?"
"No. We just saw you dash over here and wanted to be sure you were okay."
And that's what happened when you had friends who loved you. She grasped both their hands. "Thank you. I'm fine. Like I said, I just got a little warm."
Sam leaned against the doorway. "So Bash got you hot and bothered when he whispered in your ear again?"
Her knees wobbled. "What? Of course not. What makes you think that?"
"Because we saw him holding your hand, leaning in close, and whispering in your ear," Megan said. "And God, does he look hot tonight or what?"
She refused to comment on the second part of Megan's statement. Instead, she brushed past them and headed into the bedroom. For this, she was going to need to think fast. She took a seat on the bed. "He was asking me about Jeff Armstrong and whether or not Jeff met the criteria of my list."
Sam's eyes widened. "Bash knows about your list?"
"He inadvertently heard me talking to his dog about it."
Megan blinked. "I don't even understand that part, but okay. What does he think about your list?"
"Bash? He thinks it's stupid. But he says he's going to help me find the perfect guy. He already set me up on one date that didn't quite work out."
"You had a date we didn't know about?" Megan asked.
"Really not worth mentioning, if you know what I mean."
Megan nodded. "Understood. And sorry it didn't pan out."
"Bash is going to find a man for you." Sam sat on the bed next to her, then looked over at Megan. "I find that ... uh ... interesting."
"You do? Why?"
Sam shrugged. "No reason. Just interesting."
"Now you have to tell me, Sam."
Sam looked over at Megan. It was like the two of them shared a secret and she had no idea what it was. "Come on you two. Tell me."
"I think what Sam means," Megan said, "is that he's single, divorced, rarely has a relationship, and he's going to find you a guy?"
"Sure. That's exactly what I meant," Sam said.
Chelsea was pretty sure that wasn't at all what she meant. "I get it. He's not exactly the right person to go finding the perfect guy for me. But he says he knows a lot of men. And not just through the bar. At this point I'm interested in meeting men I haven't dated before. So if Bash can come up with suitable candidates, then I'm all for it."
Again that look between Sam and Megan.
She huffed out a sigh. "What?"
"Nothing," Megan said. "Anyway, I saw you talking to Jeff. How did that go?"
"Oh, it went great. He's so nice, but you know he's really busy. He's spearheading the opening of the new urgent care clinic on the east side of town, so he was telling me about it."
"I heard about the new clinic," Sam said. "Which means he'll be even busier. So, any sparks fly between you and Dr. Jeff?"
"Unfortunately, no. I think I'm going to have to cross him off my list."
"What list?"
They looked up to see the gorgeous bride leaning against the bedroom doorway.
Chelsea couldn't help but get a little teary-eyed seeing Des standing there looking so elegant with her hair swept up and wearing that gown. Wow, that gown. "You look so beautiful. Are you having a good time, Mrs. McCormack?"
Des grinned. "I sure like hearing that name. And yes, I am. Now, what list?"
"Chelsea's perfect-guy list," Megan said.
"Oh, right." Des came in and took a seat in one of the chairs next to the door. "God, my feet hurt and it feels so good to sit down for like five minutes. I'm going to hide out here for just a few."
"Want me to close the door?" Sam asked.
Des laughed. "No, I'm fine just sitting for a few. So anyway, back to your list. How's that going?"
Chelsea filled her in on what they'd been talking about. Des cocked a brow and shared a look with Megan and Sam.
"Interesting."
She sure would like to know what they all found so interesting. It was like they were telling a joke and she didn't get the punch line.
"So no Dr. Jeff." Des leaned forward. "Hey, I have an idea. Let's go sit you down next to Logan's brother Reid, who is quite the stud and meets all your criteria."
Chelsea thought about Reid for a moment. She knew him--vaguely, from his infrequent trips to town. "This is true. Except he lives in Boston."
Des waved her hand. "A minor drawback. Besides, you're unattached, and so is he. If nothing else, you get someone to dance with tonight."
Chelsea looked at her friends. "All right."
Des took her hand and led her back to the barn. The party was still going strong. And why wouldn't it be? The chandeliers were lit in such a romantic way, music was playing, and Chelsea had a feeling no one was leaving early tonight.
She tried to catch sight of Bash, though for what reason she had no idea. Who cared where he was, anyway? Probably drinking with his buddies somewhere.
Or in the middle of the group of guys--Logan, Luke, Carter, Reid, Will, Colt, and Tony--that Des dragged her to, along with Samantha and Megan.
The men were all gathered around a table, drinking beer and talking.
"You're not all going to break out a poker game, are you?" Des asked. "Because if you are, I'm totally in."
They all stood and Logan came around the table, slipped his arm around his wife, and kissed her. "Not a chance. Not tonight, anyway."
"Too bad," Des said. "Poker sounds fun."
"What are you all doing?" Logan asked.
"Just hanging out with the gir
ls."
Logan pulled a chair out for Des, and the guys made room for the rest of them.
"Where are Molly, Jane, and Emma?" Chelsea asked.
Luke motioned with his head. "On the dance floor."
Chelsea searched the dance floor and finally located the three of them, barefoot and jumping up and down to a popular hip-hop song.
She grinned. "Awesome."
"Reid, I had just started telling the girls about your last job in Boston."
Which she had not, but Des could start and hold a conversation better than anyone.
"Is that right?" Reid arched a brow.
"Yes. But I didn't really get that far into it, so why don't you explain it to them?"
"I renovated a historic building in Boston. It was actually the first historical renovation I've done."
"You're an architect, right?" Chelsea asked.
He nodded. "Yes. Mainly new buildings, so this was a new venture for me. To mix the old with the new."
He started describing the work he'd done, giving her a chance to study him. Reid--who was incredibly good-looking in the oh-my-God-they're-gorgeous McCormack way, was tall. After seeing him at the wedding earlier, standing beside his brothers, she thought it was a wonder it had taken all the McCormacks this long to get married. Though Reid was still single, and since he hadn't brought anyone to the wedding, she assumed he was unattached as well.
His dark hair was cut short, and he had the same bluish-green eyes as Luke. He was a bit leaner than Luke, though, and not quite as tall as Logan. Still, he looked striking in his tux, especially with the tie undone and the shirt unbuttoned at the neck. She could imagine him as quite the lady-killer.
Yet she felt no attraction to him in the least. While she appreciated the masculine vibe and the way he looked, there was no ping to her feminine radar.
Clearly, there was something wrong with her, because as eligible bachelors went, Reid was definitely a catch. And while she was firmly rooted in Hope, she could definitely while away a few hours with a very attractive man. As she listened to him talk about the renovation he'd done in Boston, it was clear he was intelligent, as well as passionate about his work.
"That's fascinating," Samantha said, turning her chair toward his, since she was the one who'd ended up sitting next to Reid. "I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not--you're probably not since you no longer live in Hope--but the old mercantile building on the corner of Fifth and Main is due for demolition." She looked around at everyone. "You all know that old building? It's been standing as long as I can remember. It's just around the corner from my flower shop. And from Carter's auto repair shop as well."