“The flamingos are more fun,” said Jenny, turning as the people toward the middle aisle started to move. “I’ll help you pick the new target. Maybe we can plant them on Cole’s lawn next.” Cole Maddison, Mitch’s friend, neighbor and fellow TCC board member had deep pockets.
“Sure,” Mitch answered absently, still trying to figure out what was different about her.
The glasses.
She wasn’t wearing her glasses.
That was unusual for Jenny.
He wondered if she’d forgotten them, or if she’d decided the wedding was an occasion formal enough to warrant wearing her contacts. He knew she didn’t like them.
She started to walk away, and his gaze caught on her short dress. That was also unusual. She normally wore knee-length skirts, or slacks, a crisp blouse and a blazer. Jenny was as buttoned-up and tailored as a woman could get. It suited her precise and meticulous personality. But today, puffy, bold burgundy fabric swirled around her thighs. One of her shoulders was bare, and she was wearing unusually flashy earnings.
What was up?
“Jenny?”
She turned.
Holy cow. From this angle the entire package nearly took his breath away. What had happened to his no-nonsense, efficient assistant?
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Nothing.” He started to move with the rest of the crowd, embarrassed by the reaction he was having to her makeover. She was perfectly entitled to dress up for a wedding, and he had absolutely no business ogling her.
They made their way through the double doors, outside to the back of the clubhouse overlooking the expansive grounds. When Mitch stopped at the rail of the back veranda, Jenny kept going, making her way down the wide stairs toward the lawn and the gardens. He was a little surprised she hadn’t stuck by his side like she usually did. Perhaps she needed to talk to some of the Cattleman’s Club members or to some friends.