Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Sheila Seabrook
bickering over every little detail.
The bride, CNN up-and-coming newscaster, Liz Kincaid, was in the process of butting heads with her mother, Grace Kincaid, star of the popular TV talk show Eternally Yours . And the two women were arguing about everything.
From the type of cake—white or chocolate—to the color of the icing—cream with pale rose tints or a kaleidoscope of blue and green and yellow and blood red.
From the location of the nuptials—outdoors on the Serendipity Island estate gorgeous gardens or in the middle of the Vegas strip—to the time of day—mid-afternoon or midnight.
From the style of bridal attire—a princess gown for the bride and a black tuxedo for the groom, or Zombie outfits for them both.
Stephanie kind of thought they were yanking her chain with the last one, but she couldn’t quite be certain.
Somehow, someway, she had to pull this wedding together by Friday, all so it would coincide with the groom’s schedule.
The bride’s fiancee, Roger Gordon of the rock band Crazy Heart, wanted to release the band’s fifth album and dedicate it to his bride to officially begin their life together. Sure, it was romantic and cute—and a really great publicity stunt for the band—but it had turned the young bride into a time bomb of nerves who at any given moment might detonate into tears.
Her gaze settled on the bride’s sister.
Mariam sat on the corner of the couch, staring at the far wall, wearing the saddest expression Stephanie had ever seen on anybody. She appeared lost and lonely, which could only mean one thing…some schmuck had broken her heart.
Stephanie peered down at the little tyke hanging onto his mother’s knee.
The kid was adorable, like most kids that age, but Stephanie didn’t like children of any age anymore than they liked her.
He gurgled and blew spit bubbles, and entertained himself by pulling himself up to his feet, then plopping back down on the ground and landing softly on the padded diaper covering his tiny tush.
She didn’t normally pay attention to the little ones in the room, but this little guy was so cute, she almost wanted to reach out and grab him into her arms. Occasionally he let go of the safety net of his mother’s knee, happily content to wave his arms in the air like a drunken frat boy, until his mother put one hand against his back to steady him.
Even from this distance, Stephanie could smell the baby powder scent, and it made her insides squeeze tight with longing.
Mariam stroked a gentle hand down his back. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Oh God no,” she breathed out before she could catch the words back. Clapping a hand across her mouth, meeting the other woman’s curious gaze, she gave a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Kids and I…we don’t get along. I much prefer them when they turn sixteen and you can reason with them.”
The other woman slashed a glance toward her mother and sister. “You mean like those two?”
With a small smile, she shifted her focus toward the bride and mother-of-the-bride who were still arguing about the guest list and the flower arrangements and everything in-between.
As she watched their conversation volley back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth some more, her stomach began to heave from the dizziness of it all.
Pushing her hair out of her face, she attempted to ignore the queasiness in her stomach, and jumped back into the fray. “Ladies, the clock is ticking and we’re getting nowhere.”
Grace Kincaid sat in the armchair across from her, back stiff, hands folded primly on her lap, and sniffed. “Well, I’m attempting to be as cooperative as possible but I have my limits. Zombie outfits and a Vegas wedding are so beneath us.”
“Mother,” Liz growled from across the room where she paced and turned, paced and turned, and paced some more. “It’s not your wedding.”
Grace let out a breath of air. “Thank God.”
Stephanie
The bride, CNN up-and-coming newscaster, Liz Kincaid, was in the process of butting heads with her mother, Grace Kincaid, star of the popular TV talk show Eternally Yours . And the two women were arguing about everything.
From the type of cake—white or chocolate—to the color of the icing—cream with pale rose tints or a kaleidoscope of blue and green and yellow and blood red.
From the location of the nuptials—outdoors on the Serendipity Island estate gorgeous gardens or in the middle of the Vegas strip—to the time of day—mid-afternoon or midnight.
From the style of bridal attire—a princess gown for the bride and a black tuxedo for the groom, or Zombie outfits for them both.
Stephanie kind of thought they were yanking her chain with the last one, but she couldn’t quite be certain.
Somehow, someway, she had to pull this wedding together by Friday, all so it would coincide with the groom’s schedule.
The bride’s fiancee, Roger Gordon of the rock band Crazy Heart, wanted to release the band’s fifth album and dedicate it to his bride to officially begin their life together. Sure, it was romantic and cute—and a really great publicity stunt for the band—but it had turned the young bride into a time bomb of nerves who at any given moment might detonate into tears.
Her gaze settled on the bride’s sister.
Mariam sat on the corner of the couch, staring at the far wall, wearing the saddest expression Stephanie had ever seen on anybody. She appeared lost and lonely, which could only mean one thing…some schmuck had broken her heart.
Stephanie peered down at the little tyke hanging onto his mother’s knee.
The kid was adorable, like most kids that age, but Stephanie didn’t like children of any age anymore than they liked her.
He gurgled and blew spit bubbles, and entertained himself by pulling himself up to his feet, then plopping back down on the ground and landing softly on the padded diaper covering his tiny tush.
She didn’t normally pay attention to the little ones in the room, but this little guy was so cute, she almost wanted to reach out and grab him into her arms. Occasionally he let go of the safety net of his mother’s knee, happily content to wave his arms in the air like a drunken frat boy, until his mother put one hand against his back to steady him.
Even from this distance, Stephanie could smell the baby powder scent, and it made her insides squeeze tight with longing.
Mariam stroked a gentle hand down his back. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Oh God no,” she breathed out before she could catch the words back. Clapping a hand across her mouth, meeting the other woman’s curious gaze, she gave a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Kids and I…we don’t get along. I much prefer them when they turn sixteen and you can reason with them.”
The other woman slashed a glance toward her mother and sister. “You mean like those two?”
With a small smile, she shifted her focus toward the bride and mother-of-the-bride who were still arguing about the guest list and the flower arrangements and everything in-between.
As she watched their conversation volley back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth some more, her stomach began to heave from the dizziness of it all.
Pushing her hair out of her face, she attempted to ignore the queasiness in her stomach, and jumped back into the fray. “Ladies, the clock is ticking and we’re getting nowhere.”
Grace Kincaid sat in the armchair across from her, back stiff, hands folded primly on her lap, and sniffed. “Well, I’m attempting to be as cooperative as possible but I have my limits. Zombie outfits and a Vegas wedding are so beneath us.”
“Mother,” Liz growled from across the room where she paced and turned, paced and turned, and paced some more. “It’s not your wedding.”
Grace let out a breath of air. “Thank God.”
Stephanie
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