Page 70 of Bad Boy Crush
A band playing classical music was on a stage set apart from the main party area. Strings of decorative lights cast a soft glow on the patio. Guests were dressed to the nines, despite Lou’s mother’s assurance that beach attire was acceptable. Ant adjusted his collar as he eyed a guy dressed a lot like May’s date had been—tight dress pants, no socks, leather loafers. Ant was the only guy in shorts.
Great.
“Lourdes Eleanor!” Lou’s mom could’ve been Lou twenty years from now. She swept over in a short white dress, waggling her diamond-ring-covered fingers as she beckoned Lou into a hug. She complimented her daughter’s dress, and, as if an afterthought, regarded Ant through narrowed eyes. “Hello. Where have we met?”
“The wedding,” he answered. “Anthony Renaldo.”
“Yes. The craftsman.”
“Chain saw artist, darling,” a sophisticated older man said as he approached. He kissed Lou’s cheek. “Hey, doll. Ant, good to see you again.”
“Sherwood.” He shook her father’s hand.
“What are you doing in town?” Toni asked.
“I came to help Ant deliver a sculpture he carved for a friend. We’re staying in the mansion.”
“Together.” Toni didn’t exactly clutch her pearls, but her eyebrows disappeared into her thick blond bangs like she was shocked to hear that news. Clearly, Lou hadn’t shared that Ant and she had made up. Hell, it was possible her parents had no idea there’d ever been a gap in their friendship.
Lou squeezed his hand. “Yes.”
“How lovely. You know, the Millers are here, and they’ve been anticipating your arrival. Could I steal you away to say hello? If Anthony doesn’t mind, of course.”
“We just got here, Mom,” Lou said testily. “I’m not running off to mingle and leaving him here alone.”
“You don’t have to babysit me,” Ant muttered. “I have a drink, and your dad and I can talk.” From what he remembered from the wedding, Sherwood was a genial guy.
“Let the men sip bourbon, darling,” Sherwood encouraged. “Ant and I will be fine while you say hi to old friends.”
“If you’re sure?” Lou asked Ant.
He appreciated her doting, but it wasn’t necessary. “Go. I’ll survive.”
twenty
Bette and Arthur Miller. Parents of Dolan Miller. Lourdes and Dolan had never dated, but in the years before her parents had set her and Liam up, they’d focused their attention on the Millers’ son.
From her position across the patio, she checked on her date. Her father, being the conversationalist he was, moved his hands while describing God-knew-what to Ant, who listened patiently. He was a saint.
“Lourdes, my goodness!” Bette air-kissed Lou’s cheeks and then elbowed Arthur. “Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Gorgeous. But how could she have avoided these good genes?” Arthur gestured at Toni. “Dolan, tell Lourdes how lovely she looks.”
Dolan, less dorky than his name made him sound, was an attractive man. He wore slim trousers and a polo shirt. He shifted his cut crystal glass to the side to kiss her on the cheek before whispering, “Should I check your teeth next?”
Lou smothered a laugh with a sip of rosé. Dolan’s parents had trotted Lou around him at every opportunity years ago. She wasn’t surprised they were trying again now that she was single.
“Let’s leave them to catch up. I’m sure Dolan would love to hear of your adventures since you and Liam divorced.” Toni locked arms with Bette and led Dolan’s mother away, Arthur trailing behind them.
“Subtle, your mother is not,” Dolan said.
“One day we have to break it to them.”
“When Jim proposes, I will.” Dolan smiled. “How have you been?”
“Good.” She checked over her shoulder, and Ant dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Better.”
“Damn, I guess. Who’s the hottie?”