A Princess in Maine

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A Princess in Maine Page 4

by Jen McLaughlin


  Violet nodded. “That sounds perfect, Grace.”

  “You can order them in time for the wedding?” Grace asked.

  “Absolutely. I can have the daisies flown in, and the roses will be simple enough to order. They’re requested often for spring weddings, so I should be able to get what I need for July.”

  “I’ll be here to help her if she has any difficulties,” I added, patting Grace’s leg.

  “Then it’s settled. Let’s sign the contracts,” Grace said, leaning against the pillows of the couch and smiling with relief. “I’ll write you a check, too.”

  “Excellent,” Violet said.

  They signed the necessary paperwork—Grace signed off on the flower order, and Violet signed the non-disclosure agreement we were asking all our vendors to sign. We were cruising along at full speed, and we hadn’t hit any speed bumps yet.

  In a few minutes, we had an appointment with the local bridal shop, Wedding Belles. I had told them about Grace’s pregnancy and they had assured me that they had a system in place for ordering a wedding dress for a pregnant bride.

  Later tonight, Grace and Phillip would have dinner with Dorothy, a candidate for the catering, and the same one Jeremy and I had used for our wedding. Then Grace would be on her way to Talius with quite a bit of her planning completed.

  After that, I’d take over whatever we didn’t finish today. Grace had, thankfully, come prepared. She had given me a whole binder filled with her likes and dislikes, and requests for her wedding.

  It wasn’t organized to my standards, but I planned on fixing that as soon as I had it in a room alone. The devil was in the details, and I’d make sure I wouldn’t miss a single one.

  I set the signed contract aside so I could make a copy of it for the wedding binder. As Grace handed Violet a check for the deposit, I jotted down the number on it.

  Then I glanced at my watch. If we wanted to get to Wedding Belles on time, we needed to hit the road. I was going to follow Grace in my own car, so we could go our separate ways after the dress appointment.

  Please let them have a dress for her.

  I was willing do a lot for her, but I couldn’t pick out her dress.

  If she didn’t find one today…

  No. I wasn’t going to go there. I was trying to be optimistic for once, but, to be honest, it didn’t fit me well. It was so much easier to assume nothing would go right than to hope otherwise.

  Violet left the inn, and I picked up my purse, checking the time again. I was eager to get to the store, and for Grace to try on gowns till she found the one. There was nothing like that moment. The store had this cheesy bell by the dressing rooms and the owner encouraged her customers to ring it when you’d found your gown. I still remembered how I felt during that moment when I’d found my dress and rang that stupid little bell. Paul, the only person I’d brought along with me, had rolled his eyes, but I hadn’t cared. Call me sentimental if you dared, but I loved it.

  “All right,” I said. “Time to go. I’ll meet you there.”

  “Okay.” Grace stood and smoothed her dress over her stomach. “Thank you for all this. I really appreciate you coming along with me, and being so supportive.”

  I reached out and squeezed her hand. “No woman should be too stressed planning her wedding to not enjoy it. You only become royalty once.”

  Grace laughed. “You also only get married once, hopefully.”

  “That, too,” I agreed, smiling. I thought back to that day, to how it had felt to walk down the aisle on my father’s arm as Jeremy watched me approach. He’d looked at me like I was the only person on earth that mattered. He still looked at me that way. “Your wedding is going to be magical. When you marry the right person, it just…fits.”

  Grace smiled, and tears filled her eyes at the same time. She laughed and shook her head, blinking rapidly. “God, my hormones are all over the place right now. I’m sorry. I swear I’m not usually such a mess.”

  “It’s the baby,” I said, laughing with her.

  I couldn’t imagine being pregnant with my emotions out of control like that. I was taught that showing excessive outward emotions was a sign of weakness. And an O’Kane never displays weakness. But it seemed that when a woman was pregnant, there was no controlling how she felt, let alone anything. I can’t say I like that idea. I want kids someday, sure, but I’d rather skip all the messiness that comes with it.

  Maybe we’d adopt.

  Jeremy walked into the living room. “Baby?” He asked in a hollow voice. He stared at me like he’d seen a ghost. “What baby?”

  Wait. Did he think—?

  “Ours,” Prince Phillip said, crossing the room and putting his arm around his fiancée. “We thought you should know we’re expecting.”

  “Congratulations,” Jeremy said, his voice thick.

  “Thank you,” Phillip said, kissing her temple.

  “We’re going to go try on dresses now,” Grace said, smiling at the men. “Chelsea is coming along, so when I’m gone, she’ll know what I’ve ordered and which alterations I want…” she glanced at her stomach and rested a hand on it. “…and need.” Grace looked at me, then switched to French. I’d taken it in high school, so I knew enough to pick up a few common words. Grace said something about a dress, and flowers, and more money.

  Phillip said yes, and smiled. “Excellent,” he said, slipping back into English and giving me a big smile. “Thank you for helping my bride. We will, of course, compensate you accordingly for your time.” He squeezed Grace’s hip affectionately and turned back to her. “The chauffeur can drop me and my guards off at your mother’s house. I will oversee the preparations for our return trip while you and your guards go to the shop.”

  I eyed Michelle, one of Grace’s two guards, who had been silently holding up the wall while we talked flowers. I couldn’t imagine being followed around by someone all day, having eyes on my every move. Would she go in the dressing room with Grace? Did they follow her everywhere? To the bathroom? In the shower?

  Did Grace ever get peace and quiet for herself?

  “Meet you at Wedding Belles, Chelsea?” Grace asked.

  I said yes, and then Jeremy and I were alone again.

  The second the door closed behind them, we both started to speak at the same time.

  He started with, “I think we should back—”

  “Thank you,” I said, as I threw myself in his arms. “I love you so much.”

  Chapter 10

  Jeremy caught Chelsea in his arms and stumbled, caught off-guard by her sudden display of affection. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, breathing in her sweet scent. “For what?”

  “For being so amazing,” she said in a rush, pulling back and cupping his cheeks. “I know you were hesitant about doing this wedding, but having you in my corner means more than you could ever know.”

  He swallowed, because right now, he wasn’t in her corner at all. Right now, he wanted to send the royal couple back to their own country and never see them again. “Chels…”

  “All my life, Dad made every decision a pain in the ass, and he never had my back. Not once. With you, I know we’re thinking the same thing. We never disagree on anything important. That means more to me than anything else ever could.”

  “I still think chocolate ice cream is better,” he said playfully.

  “That’s the only thing you’re wrong about.” She kissed him gently, then pulled back. He could still taste her. “I’m so happy that we went through all the crap we did—Richard, the attack from the Sullivans—because it brought us to this moment. It brought us together. I wouldn’t change a thing in my life, because you’re always there for me, and I’m always there for you.”

  Well, shit. Forcing a smile, he said, “Always.”

  She kissed him again, her lips lingering over his. “I know I can do anything, and no matter the outcome, it’ll be all right.”

  He swallowed hard as her hands roamed over his body. His shor
ts suddenly felt a lot tighter. “Always. Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

  “I need you,” she breathed. “Right now.”

  He cocked a brow. He was never one to turn down some one-on-one time with his wife, but last he heard, she had somewhere to be. “But—”

  Her lips melded to his, cutting him off, and he stopped trying to stop her because, hell, he didn’t want to. Instead, he lifted her up as her tongue slid into his mouth. Her legs wrapped around him, and she did that thing with her hips that never failed to drive him insane.

  Growling low in his throat, he carried her into their office, kicked the door shut behind them, and backed her against the wall as he closed his hands over her breasts. She cried out and arched into them and he deepened the kiss. She broke free, gasping, when he slid his hand between her legs, pressing his thumb where she needed him most.

  “Jeremy. God. Yes.”

  He rubbed his finger over her, bringing her to the edge of the precipice as he claimed her mouth again, swallowing her cries. She scratched her nails down his back and pumped her hips against him, her whole body tensing as she came. Within seconds, he was buried inside her, and she was orgasming again. He thrust inside her hard, fast, and didn’t stop until she was begging for release…something he was all too happy to provide. When he came, she was there with him again, crying his name out with a desperation that filled his soul.

  By the time he came back down from the high she’d sent him on, anything he’d been planning to say about backing out of the royal wedding was gone.

  She wanted it…so he did, too.

  End of story.

  They’d just have to make sure no hint about the wedding got out. He kissed her nose, smiling down at her tenderly as he pushed a stray strand of brown hair away from her soft, plush pink lips. “Feel better?”

  She laughed and blew her hair out of her face. Her blue eyes were deep with emotion and pleasure, and the rosy hue to her skin was intoxicating. “Yeah. I just…hearing Grace worry about her wedding, and her future with her prince, reminded me of us, and how lucky we are to have found each other.” She darted a quick glance at him. “It made me feel all mushy and romantic and stuff.”

  The way she said that, like she was disgusted at herself, made him laugh.

  She hated it when her emotions got the better of her, and he found that utterly adorable. She tried to be hard and calm, but deep down, she was a romantic even if she didn’t want to admit it. He smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone your dirty little secret.”

  She thumped him on his chest. “Good. Now let me down. I have work to do.”

  “Since when do you go to bridal fittings with clients?” he asked as he set her on her feet and stepped back.

  “Since they’re pregnant, and live halfway around the world.” She lowered her dress and adjusted her underwear and then grabbed her keys off the desk. “By the way, why’d you look at me like you saw a ghost earlier?”

  Though he’d like to play it dumb and pretend he had no idea what she was talking about, it wasn’t his style to lie, especially not to his wife. He knew exactly what she was talking about, damn it. “You said something about a baby, and I guess my mind went there.”

  She frowned. “Where?”

  “To us. You. A baby.”

  “Oh…” Her grip on the keys tightened, and her face went from a healthy, rosy, sex afterglow to sheet-white. “I better go.” She spun around in a blur of dress and long brown hair, and was out the door in under three seconds. He’d never seen her move so damn fast before, simply because he mentioned a baby. Did that mean she didn’t want kids? How had they never discussed this before? Oh, right, because they’d been too busy dodging cartels and fighting for their lives to talk about the future. That uneasy feeling he was all too familiar with?

  Yeah, it settled into the pit of his stomach again…

  Like a damn anvil.

  Chapter 11

  One month later, I was sitting down and staring at the wall. Why couldn’t I remember what I had for lunch? Where had Jeremy said he was going? More important…why was my mind a completely blank slate? Oh. Right. Because I’d been singlehandedly planning Grace’s royal wedding.

  I was having a blast, but, holy crap, who did a girl have to kill to get some sleep around here? Rubbing my aching temples, I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind so I could remember where I’d put Grace’s wedding binder. The past month had been a blur of e-mail exchanges and meetings with vendors. I’d Skyped Grace so often I now knew how many freckles she had across her nose, and what her laugh sounded like when she found something particularly hilarious.

  The wedding was fit for a princess. The flowers would be soft and elegant. Grace’s dress was a fairy-tale ball gown fresh out of a Disney film, with white satin and lace with delicate beading across the entire bodice. The white satin carpet she’d chosen to be draped over the aisle was romantic and sophisticated, as were the candles she’d selected to light the way. And we were going to set votives at the end of every row of guest seats.

  Yawning, I picked up my tea and took a dainty sip. Last night, I’d barely slept, and to say my stomach was unsettled was like saying the sun was a teensy bit hot. At any moment, I might be running for the bathroom, and it wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

  I had too much to do to feel like this.

  My body needed to get its shit together.

  Paul walked into my living room. Jeremy must have let him in. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I echoed back. “Did you see a binder in the foyer when you came in?”

  “Yeah, it’s by the door.” He walked back out to the foyer and returned with the wedding binder in his hand. “Since when do you misplace stuff?”

  “I’m only human.”

  He looked at me closely with his brow wrinkled, like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve. “Since when?”

  I immediately pasted a neutral look on my face and forced away any trace of my exhaustion. Never show your weaknesses to anyone, not even family. That was the O’Kane motto. I might be married now, but some things never change. “Even superheroes need breaks sometimes.”

  “Have you heard from Dad lately?” he asked, ignoring my comment.

  As usual, the mention of Dad made me tense up. We’d come a long way, but you didn’t just erase decades of anger with a year of good behavior. These things took time.

  “He called yesterday, but of course I haven’t seen him in a while. Isn’t he still in Florida on parole? Wait a second. Why are you asking me this?”

  Paul set the binder on the table and sat down. I reclined against the cushions of my couch and eyed it longingly, already wanting to check out of this conversation so I could immerse myself in the world of true love and sunshine. And cake.

  Paul went off on a separate rant, and I nodded, pretending to listen. Whatever Dad was up to now, I didn’t want to know. I had bigger fish to fry. The baker I’d hired was due to arrive any minute now with icing samples for the vanilla cake. All the food was being made with Grace’s allergy in mind. After that, I had a meeting with the photographer and Grace on video chat, and then—

  “Are you even listening to me?” He rubbed his jaw. He was slightly more stubbly than usual.

  I rubbed the throbbing spot between my eyebrows. “I’m sorry, I was thinking about the meetings I have for the wedding.”

  Paul frowned at the empty brick fireplace. I’d been assaulted right there over a year ago, just a few nights before my engagement ring was stolen. I absently touched the spot on my finger where it should be, above my wedding band.

  “I heard that the Sullivans were hanging around downtown two days ago,” he said. “They were asking about the big shindig you’ve got going on here. Hopefully no one told them you’re hosting a royal wedding.”

  My heart skipped a beat, but my face didn’t change. I made sure of that. “Why would they care? It doesn’t affect them.”

  “Did you even consider that possibility that a wed
ding like this might give them something to hold over your head? That they might threaten you with it?” he asked quietly. “Or were you too excited to pick out some stupid flowers to consider the ramifications of taking it on?”

  Jeremy had been on edge at first, convinced the Sullivans would come after us like they’d come after several other local businesses. But I wasn’t worried about that. We’d given them that tiny black journal they’d wanted, so they had no reason to poke the bear, so to speak.

  I might have also sent them a “friendly” message telling them that I had taken photos—and made copies—of the pages of that journal after we had given them it back to them. That way, they’d probably stay out of our way so I wouldn’t make good on my threat. They wouldn’t come after me when they knew I had something over them.

  Crime families didn’t make stupid decisions.

  “Well?” he asked, frowning even more. “Are you going to answer me?”

  “I knew perfectly well what I was getting into, and I’m insulted you think otherwise.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I took care of it.”

  Paul leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “How?”

  “None of your damn business,” I said, smiling sweetly. “Last time I checked, you don’t work here.”

  He snorted. “Whatever. You look like shit, by the way.”

  “Thanks for letting me know,” I replied sarcastically. “I didn’t notice when I put on my makeup this morning.”

  Paul snorted and tugged at his sleeve. His light-brown hair was swept to the side, and he wore his usual plaid short-sleeved shirt, open so you could see his gray T-shirt underneath. “If that’s you with makeup—”

  “I will kill—” I started, standing angrily.

  Paul laughed. “Relax. I was kidding.”

  “I wasn’t,” I replied. “Back off, okay?”

 

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