Bring It On - Kira Sinclair Page 0,2

to reach them all and rid herself of the mountain of satin she’d crushed into the tiny passenger seat of his Porsche. That car definitely had not been made to hold two people and a wedding gown.

Brushing her fingers out of the way, Colt said, “Let me,” and finished the job for her.

The slight tremor in her hands did not go unnoticed and Colt fought the urge—once again—to drive back to the church and beat the shit out of that sorry excuse for a man she’d almost married. The only thing that stopped him was knowing Lena wouldn’t want him to make a scene. She hated drama. Never wanted to be the center of attention. While it would definitely make him feel better, it wouldn’t do her any good.

He just hated to see her upset.

The bottom button had barely popped free before she was pushing the voluminous mess off her shoulders and down her body. Pulling at the slip beneath, she left the lump of satin behind. Miraculously, it retained its shape, a sad white bell of material with a hole where her body should have been.

She blew out a sigh of relief, pushing the swell of her breasts against the edge of the full-length bra that skimmed over her hips and waist. Colt tried to ignore the way his mouth went dry, telling himself it was a normal male reaction to any woman undressing in front of him.

This was Lena. They’d been friends since they were kids. And if he’d occasionally woken from erotic dreams about her in the past, he told himself that it was simply the pitfall of having a female friend. Men thought about sex all the time, right? It was inevitable that his brain would put two and two together eventually.

Lena disappeared down the hallway. Deciding not to follow, Colt went into the kitchen and filled a wineglass from the open bottle he found in the fridge. It was the same bottle that had been there when he’d visited three months ago on his way to film a piece in Spain. He remembered because he’d come from Alaska where the frigid temperatures had played havoc with the film equipment. He’d brought the bottle with him, picking it up in the airport. He could no longer recall which airport it had been, they all started to look the same after a while.

Colt shook his head, hoping the wine hadn’t spoiled. Yelling down the hall, he asked, “What now, Lee?”

She stuck her head around the corner, her bare shoulders just visible and her lips twisting into a crooked line. “I have no idea,” she said before disappearing again.

Taking a sip of the chilled wine, he stopped in the open doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the jamb. The place was definitely bare. Lena had spent a lot of time and energy filling her apartment with things that mattered. It had been comfortable, warm and welcoming. This place had always been her pride and joy.

Boxes were stacked in the corner. He could see the neat labeling from here and knew she probably had a master list tucked into a binder cataloguing which box held what. The whole thing was depressing.

Lena returned wearing an oversize T-shirt and a pair of black leggings. Her hair, previously arranged into a twist that had probably taken hours, was now piled haphazardly on top of her head, tufts sticking out in every direction. In that moment she reminded him so much of the young girl he’d met so many years ago.

They’d both been ten the summer Lena and her mother moved into the estate next door. They’d become fast friends, inseparable. She’d spent more time at his house than hers, blending seamlessly into his family. His parents had treated her like one of their own.

When she’d left nine months later he’d been so upset. His parents had given Lena a laptop so they could keep in touch. And they had, building a friendship on emails, phone calls and brief visits here and there that had lasted through distance and time.

He hadn’t seen that carefree girl in a very long time. He wasn’t sure when she’d disappeared—probably when her mother was dragging her all over the world. Or maybe after his parents’ fatal accident. His life had been falling apart and she’d been holding together the pieces for him. Or possibly while he was rushing from one corner of the globe to another, working his butt off trying to prove his talents as a