Bree:Perfect Match Series

By: Raine English


Bree’s Perfect Match Dating Profile…

MissWanderlust, 29

“Not all who wander are lost.” –J.R.R. Tolkien

I’m an outgoing lady who loves to travel. I’ve never been the type to stay in one place for long. Some call me stubborn and headstrong. I say I know what I want and don’t hesitate to get it. If you like adventure and are up for a wild ride, then you could be the partner I’m looking for.

Chapter One

Bree Wilson’s chest tightened as an unusual bout of jealousy took hold. Her best friend was planning his wedding, and although she was ecstatic to see Dawson madly in love, unfortunately, her fate didn’t include such a thing. She’d always been okay with that, though, so why this odd feeling?

She watched Dawson pop open a bottle of wine, hand a glass to his fiancée, and fill it along with two others. A moment later, he and Amy were at her side, and the three of them were toasting to their futures. She knew what theirs held, a picture-perfect life in this gorgeous twenty-room mansion they’d just built along the South Carolina coast. Her gaze shifted out the open French doors to the waves sluicing against the shore. What did her future hold? Concrete, glass, and steel. That was a given. But a man? Probably not. At least not long term. She’d resigned herself to that years ago, so the odd feeling that had moved from her chest to her gut must be due to her changing relationship with Dawson. Things would never be the same between them again. There’d be no more three a.m. phone calls when he was wound up and couldn’t sleep because something had gone wrong at work. He had Amy to help him now. And that was okay. The beautiful brunette was precisely the type of woman Bree had hoped he’d fall for. Still, she was a little bit nostalgic for those good old days.

Not wanting her spell of melancholy noticed, she took another sip of wine, longer this time, and then glanced at the invitations on the coffee table. “I always envisioned you'd have a huge, elaborate wedding,” she said, guessing there couldn’t be more than ten invites on the pile.

He followed her gaze and chuckled as he took a satin covered box out of a cabinet. “You know me too well, Bree. That’s what we’re having.” Dawson handed her an elegant lace wedding invitation held shut with a teal blue ribbon.

She fought hard to keep her fingers from trembling as she opened it and read:

Please Join Us For

The Wedding Celebration Of

Amy Sheridan


Dawson Yates

The Crystal Ballroom, Shoreline Country Club

750 Franklin Street, Ocean Ridge, South Carolina

Saturday, June 9th, 2018

At 5 o’clock in the evening

Dinner & merriment

to follow ceremony

An army of emotions flooded her, and she chided herself for the tears that stung her lids. “Two months,” she said more to herself than to them.

Dawson draped his arm across Amy’s shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “I’d get married tomorrow, but even I can’t get a wedding planner that quickly. Besides, we needed to give you time to clear your calendar, Bree. I can’t have my best woman not able to attend.”

She raised a brow at him. “Are you asking me to be in your wedding?”

Dawson flashed her a crooked grin. “Of course. Who else would I want to stand up for me?”

“Do I get to wear a tux?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to wear anything else.”

“Then I can’t possibly say no.” She hugged Amy, and then Dawson, inhaling the sexy muskiness of his cologne. Swallowing hard, she said, “I’m so happy for you guys, and honored to be in your wedding.”

“Be sure to take off a few days. I don’t want you having to leave because you’ve got some resort opening in Costa Rica.”

“I promise.” Although she laughed, what Dawson said was entirely true. She worked incredibly long hours, seven days a week most of the time. But that’s what it took if she was going to take over her father’s empire someday. Wilson International owned a slew of high-end properties across the globe, and they kept acquiring more each year.

“Oh, and be sure to bring a date,” he added.

She frowned. “Okay, now you’re pushing things.”

“I thought you’d say that.” Dawson picked up one of the invites from the coffee table and handed it to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, looking down at it. As she read the first paragraph, her heart began to thunder, and her frown deepened. “A free vacation to the island of my choice? You know I don’t need this. I’ve been around the world more times than I can count.”

“But you always travel alone. This is a one-week romantic getaway with a guy chosen by Perfect Match.”

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