1
“I’m here about the wedding dress.”
Jude Bailey’s intercom distorted voices in strange ways, but this was the first time it had made someone sound uber sexy.
Hmm. She hadn’t noticed that beguiling drawl in her visitor’s voice when she’d talked to him on the phone yesterday. Maybe she’d been too eager to sell the cursed dress to notice.
Hesitating, she gnawed her bottom lip. Was it safe to just let him up? Maybe she should go to the courtyard, but that meant hauling the source of her shame—that darned wedding dress—down the stairs of her third-floor walk-up on a blustery November 4th afternoon and well…just no.
But she was desperate to unload the dress for some fast cash. She needed the thing out of her house and out of her mind so she could finally move on from the source of her greatest humiliation. Her ad had run for three days, and this guy was the only one who’d shown any interest.
“What’s your name?” she asked, consulting the note she’d jotted down the previous day.
“Tom Brunswick.”
He’d gotten that part right. Should she buzz him up or not?
“Look,” he said. “I get that you’re probably nervous about letting me into your apartment. That’s smart. You can bring the dress down to me if that works better for you.”
The fact that he offered eased her nervousness. Quickly, she texted her cousin Leigh and told her what the situation was, just to be safe. Although she wasn’t sure how much help Leigh could be, living in another country.
“It’s a big dress and a three-story walk-up. I’ll buzz you in.” She pushed the button to let him into the vestibule, opened her door a crack with the chain on, and waited for him to climb the stairs to her apartment.
While she waited, she mused. What kind of man bought a wedding dress for his fiancée? What kind of bride would go along with that? It sounded a bit controlling. Just like Jaxon.
At the thought of her ex, she cringed.
Forget Jaxon. You’re better off without him.
Yes, she understood she’d dodged a bullet, but getting stood up at the church in front of a hundred guests could do a number on a woman’s self-confidence.
She shook her spine. Head in the game.
If Tom Brunswick was bargain hunting, he’d come to the right place. Like her Craig’s List ad said, she was open to all offers, whatever it took to get the wretched thing out of her closet.
From her vantage point, she could see the top of his head with his dark-brown hair, brushed back off his forehead and just long enough to appear unruly in a sexy way.
An instant later, he climbed the last step and any resemblance to a shaggy dog ended at his hairline. He was a genuine hunk, six feet of muscle and sex appeal packed into a worn brown leather bomber jacket and tight faded jeans.
Whoa! A warm tingle lit up her stomach. It had been a while since she’d noticed men in that way, and it felt good to have blood flow in her lower regions again.
“You’re Jude?” He glanced at his phone. “Jude Bailey?”
“Yes.”
He raised his head and his gaze. His eyes landed on hers and he offered up a charming grin. “Any kin to the Bailey Baby Products Baileys?”
“Distant cousins,” she said.
She might be descended from the same great grandparents as the wealthy Baileys, and her cousin Leigh had literally married into royalty, but Jude’s branch of the family hadn’t inherited the money-making—or apparently—the good-matchmaking gene. Her own parents had been married for forty years so she had that going for her.
Although her folks had moved to Florida last year when Dad retired. Her older brother Mike was happily married to his high school sweetheart and they had a new baby girl. Everyone in her family had found someone to share their lives with. Why couldn’t she?
And even though she had lots of friends, sometimes Jude felt lonely not having family close by.
“Do you want to bring the dress into the hallway?” The stranger eyed her through the door crack.
“Oh, no, sorry.” Why did gorgeous men always make her act like a total dodo? “Just let me take the chain off.”
She unintentionally slammed the door in his face with a loud bang, then fumbled with the chain and opened it again, relieved that he was still standing there. “Come in. The dress is right here on the couch.”
Waving him into the room, she left the door wide open…just to be safe.
He stepped into the living room and slowly appraised her from where she hovered in the entryway. “You look about right.”
“What?” She eyed the hallway in case she needed to run or scream and kept her cell phone in her hand.
“For the dress.”
“Huh?” She closed one eye and canted her head, hoping a different angle would help her make more sense of what he was saying. Was he being weird?
He gave her the once-over, from the top of her head to her feet and back up again.
Jude imagined his dark-brown laser eyes dissolving her clothes. Oops. That was not what she should be thinking.
“The size.”
Oh. Not a weirdo after all. “As I said in the ad, it’s a size six.”
“Same size as Tara, but I wanted to make sure.” He looked from Jude to the dress that she’d artfully fanned out over the back of the couch.
“Tara is your fiancée?”
“My sister is the bride,” he said. “You thought I was buying a used wedding dress for my fiancée?”
“No, no.” Yes. But if his sister was the bride, why was he buying the dress?
“Tara is my twin actually.” He rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans, then lifted one sleeve of the gown, seemingly checking the length without touching the beaded bodice. “She’s a little taller than you, but this should still work.”
“Why did your sister send you to buy her wedding dress?” Jude asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
“This is a last-minute replacement. Tara had a dress being altered, but there was a fire at the bridal shop. Heavy smoke and water damage. The shop will refund her money, but not until the insurance pays out which will be weeks. In the meantime, she needs an affordable alternative.”
“How terrible for her,” Jude murmured, unable to tell whether he approved of the dress or not. “It’s really nice of you to help her find a replacement. When’s the wedding?”
“This Saturday.”
“Wow, just three days away. She must be desperate, but why she’d send you? Doesn’t she want to see the dress for herself?”
“I showed her the pics you posted in your online ad, and she gave me a thumbs-up to buy it if it’s in as good a shape as the ad said it is. Tara’s a pilot and she’s grounded in Salt Lake until the freak late season snowstorm there abates. She’ll get here in time for the wedding, but not in time to shop for a new dress.”
“She must be frantic, trying to get home for the wedding, and she doesn’t even have a gown.” Jude tried to imagine a female version of Tom with his dark bedroom eyes, rumpled dark hair, and dynamite good looks.
“You said the dress has never been worn?”
“No—I mean yes, that’s what I said. It’s brand new. I couldn’t take it back because there’s no return on wedding gowns.”