The Trouble With Temptation (Second Service Book 3)(50)

“I wouldn't know anything about that.” Ty shrugged his shoulders with feigned innocence. “But I do know Alex and Beth, and trust me, nothing goes as planned when those two are involved. In fact, it reminds me of a certain redhead I know.”

Morgan slapped his arm. “I have no idea what you're talking about. Besides, I'm not a natural redhead.”

“You don't say,” Ty said in mock surprise.

“Anyway,” she said, bringing the subject back to something other than hair dye. “It’s just a wedding. What could possibly go wrong?”

Ty chuckled as he shook his head. “Place your bets.”





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Continue reading for an excerpt from the first book in The Second Service Trilogy.





Excerpt from The Wedding Trap by Adrienne Bell



Book 1 of The Second Service Trilogy



"I'm thinking of killing off Charlie," Beth Bradley said, leaning back into the overstuffed chair in the corner of Isobel Munoz’s hotel suite.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am. For real this time."

"You've been saying that since we were in the seventh grade."

Beth grabbed her champagne from the side table. She twirled the crystal flute between her fingers as she looked out the window at a magnificent view of the San Francisco Bay.

Isobel was right. Of course she was. She’d always been the one with her head screwed on straighter. And it showed. Isobel had earned better grades in school. She'd landed a better job. It wasn't even worth going into how superior her taste in men was.

“You’re right,” Beth conceded. "At the very least, I've got to break up with him."

"Before the wedding?" Isobel asked, turning slightly so the seamstress could continue pinning the hem of her gown. Her voice was thick with disbelief. Beth didn't blame her. After all, how many times had they had this conversation?

"Why not? It's as good a time as any. Anyway, what difference does it make? I'm going to be all alone on your wedding day. I might as well be honest about why.”

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything. I’ll just wait right over here while you call your mother and tell her the news.”

A half-panicked laugh slipped from Beth’s lips. She turned her head away from the window, meeting Isobel's gaze in the full-length mirror that had been set up in the spacious sitting room.

"Yeah, maybe after is better,” Beth said.

"At the very least, it's more realistic. Let's be honest, Beth, you’re not giving up on Charlie at the moment you need him most," Isobel said.

Beth sighed and took another sip of her champagne. Just a sip. She’d only had half a banana and a handful of grapes for breakfast. It had been crackers and carrot sticks for lunch. Come hell or low blood sugar, she was determined to fit into her bridesmaid dress Sunday morning.

"You're right," Beth said. "As always."

Isobel smiled at her in the mirror. There was no malice in her eyes. If anybody knew how Beth's mind worked, it was her dearest friend.

"I think that just about does it," the seamstress said.

"Thank you so much." Isobel turned around to face Beth. "Well, what do you think?"

Tears welled up in Beth's eyes. She couldn't help it. Sure, she'd already seen Isobel in the elegant ivory gown at other fittings, and she'd cried at every one of those too. This round of last minute alterations was no different.

"You look just beautiful," Beth choked out.

Isobel's eyes turned glassy too. "Oh God, why did I ask you to be my maid of honor? If this is how we are today, how the hell are we going to be on Sunday? The second I see you crying, I'm going to start."

"I won't cry at the ceremony. I promise."

"Yeah, right. I'll believe you've finally killed off Charlie before I believe that.”

“It could happen,” Beth said with a smile.

The moment was broken as Beth’s phone started to skitter across the tabletop next to her. She reached out to grab it, but stilled her hand the second that she saw the name on the screen.

“Are you going to get that?” Isobel asked.

“It’s my mother.” Beth waited for the call to go to voicemail.

Isobel shook her head. “You know she’ll only call right back.”

“Maybe she won’t this—“

The phone began to vibrate again.

“Time.” Beth let her head fall forward before she looked up at Isobel. “Sorry.”

“Don’t bother apologizing to me. You’re the one I feel sorry for.” Isobel turned toward the seamstress and started going over the final alterations as Beth hit the accept button.

“Hi, Mom,” Beth said.

“So you’re not taking calls from your mother any longer?” the familiar, guilt-inducing voice said on the other end of the line.