by Susan Crosby
Maggie gave her sister credit. Jasmine waited until the last Rose Parade float disappeared from the television screen before reacting to the news Maggie and Diego had dropped on her hours earlier. The sisters were alone in Jasmine’s living room, Diego off taking care of Maggie’s broken door, Jasmine’s husband, Patrick, attempting to make breakfast, along with her teenage children, Matthew and Raine.
The boisterous conversation from the kitchen wrapped the house in a cocoon of family warmth, and Maggie wallowed in the atmosphere she’d longed to create for herself and a family of her own. She watched and waited as Jasmine, settled comfortably in a recliner, braided the fringe on the afghan Patrick had insisted she keep over her lap. Her white-blond hair and soft gray eyes gave an impression of coolness. Maggie knew better.
Maggie smiled as her sister drew a breath, held it a few seconds, then let it all out. She combed the braid free with her fingers, obviously stalling.
“Come on, Jazz, say what’s on your mind.”
“How could you keep this from me? I didn’t even know you and J.D. were dating, and here you are, engaged. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Everything happened pretty fast.”
“But a wedding in three weeks? Why the hurry? And how can we manage it?”
“We don’t, Jazz. I do. The last thing you need is a wedding to handle at this stage of your pregnancy.”
“Maggie! Are you pregnant?”
Maggie laughed.
“I take it that means no. All right, then, at least let us hire a wedding consultant to take care of the details. You can’t do it all. There’s so much to consider.”
“All right,” Maggie said, deciding she could repay her sister later. “It does seem a little overwhelming, especially on top of making my gown. But the wedding itself is going to be small.”
“Are you bringing Mom up for it?”
Ignoring the fist that seemed to have slammed into her stomach, Maggie stood and moved around the room, stopping at the fireplace to look at a photograph of their mother on the mantel. “I suppose I’ll have to invite her. I don’t imagine she’ll come, especially not if she has to bring her newest husband along. I’m sure she’s lied about her age again. She’d be too embarrassed to let him see she has daughters who are forty-one and thirty.”
“I know you resent her, Maggie, but she’s still your mother. You need to stop letting the past matter so much.”
“She never wanted me, Jazz. She was forty-four years old when I was born. I just got in the way.”
“She could have had an abortion, but she didn’t. And I think you turned out all right.”
“Thanks to you. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened to me.” Maggie knelt beside her sister’s chair. She envied Jasmine her family, even if she didn’t envy her pregnancy at forty-one. “You know how it was with Mom, Jazz. She was like my grandmother but she kept trying to be like a sister.”
“I know. Oh! Feel this.” Jasmine pulled Maggie’s hand to press against where the baby kicked.
They shared the moment, then Jasmine said quietly, “You know I think the world of J.D. But I’m not seeing between you and him what I should be seeing.”
“What’s that?”
“You didn’t touch each other, Maggie. You should be having a hard time keeping your hands off each other. You should be making everyone sick watching you. You should be dying to get home and make love, not spending the day with your pregnant sister and her family.”
Maggie propped her elbows on the arm of Jasmine’s chair, then rested her chin in her hands. “We haven’t made love. We’re not going to before the wedding.”
Jasmine stared. “Oh my God, you’re serious. Why?”
“Diego wants it that way. I’m going to respect his wishes.”
Jasmine started to laugh, then couldn’t stop. She laughed so long and so hard, her husband and children poked their heads out of the kitchen to see what was going on. Maggie shushed her sister, making her promise not to tell, announcing to the others that they could go back into the kitchen.
“I have to tell Patrick,” Jasmine whispered, still clutching her belly. “I can’t keep secrets from him.”
“Yes, you can.”
Her eyes sparkled. “Not this one. Oh, this is priceless, Maggie. You’ve been so hot for him for so long and he’s going to make you wait. I can’t believe it. You know, I just remembered what he said about you once. We were talking about that woman he was dating for a while, Adrianna—”
Maggie muttered an uncomplimentary remark.
“You were so jealous of her. J.D. told me she was not the kind of woman a man marries. He would only marry a woman pure of heart.”
“Chauvinist.” Maggie said the word automatically, but her mind wandered with curiosity. She sat back on her heels and considered a thought. Maybe he had suggested a marriage of convenience because he wanted her to stay pure—whatever that meant to him—for her “real” husband. She’d have to ask him.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Maggie said after Diego explained her new security system he’d installed earlier in the day, including the panic buttons he’d placed in various locations around the apartment. “Can we sit down for a few minutes?”
He waited until she sat on the sofa before taking a chair across from her.
“Coward,” she said lightly.
“You wanted something, Magnolia?”
“Jasmine knows something isn’t quite right between us.”
“In what way?”
“She says we don’t act like an engaged couple. According to her, we should be all kissy-faced and honey-bunnied.”
“Kissy-faced and... what? I suppose that means we weren’t demonstrative enough to suit her.”
“You’ve never heard of kissy-faced? I made up honey-bunnied.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I told her we weren’t going to sleep together before the wedding. She thought it was hysterically funny.”
“So that explains the looks she kept giving me over dinner and the comment she whispered as she hugged me goodbye.”
“What’d she say?”
“That she and Patrick had a bet on the outcome of the next three weeks.”
“I asked her not to tell Patrick.”
J.D. watched her tap her foot rhythmically against the floor. “I suppose now you expect me to be publicly affectionate.”
“You’re the one who wanted everything to look real.”
He couldn’t quite decipher her tone of voice—slightly hostile, more than a little defensive. “All right. I can do that.”
“Well, don’t overdo it. She’d get suspicious of that, too.”
Her foot continued to bounce.
“Was there something else, Magnolia?”
“Do you have it in your head that I’m a virgin?”
Five
The words shocked him speechless, coming out of nowhere as they did.
“Because I’m not”
“I didn’t expect you were,” he said tightly. He stood and swept up his jacket before heading to the door.
She followed. “Although I might as well be.” She had the satisfaction of seeing his stride hitch a little.
“Meaning?” The word was tossed out reluctantly.
“Meaning the few experiences I had were duds.”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Well, I do. Is that why you won’t sleep with me? Because you think I’m saving myself for my ‘true’ husband?”
He kept walking. She dogged his steps.
“It doesn’t matter, Magnolia.”
“Then why can’t we sleep together? We can be adult about it”
“Like hell. If we sleep together, we can’t get an annulment.”
“No one would know but us. Diego, I don’t think we can live together and not make love, not without killing each other.”
“I can. And I won’t he to the court, either.”
“‘You’re
a better man than I am, Gunga Din.”’
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It was a quote. Rudyard Kipling.”
“I know who said it. I can’t figure out why you—” He stopped. She was doing it again, goading him into a reaction. He turned around when he reached the door. “Just what is your problem?”
“I don’t know,” she answered, her eyes full of bewilderment. “Damn,” she said, turning from him. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”
“Aw, hell, Magnolia.” He laid his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him. “Come here.”
He enfolded her in his embrace, tightening his hold until their bodies touched all the way down. Ah, but she felt good in his arms. Too good. A tiny crack split his control. He rested his cheek against her hair, felt her fingers dig into his back, and he cherished the moment so long denied him. “Novia, ” he said soothingly. “It’s all right. We’ll work everything out.”
“I don’t mean to be so difficult” she said, finally relaxing against him. Her arms settled loosely at his waist. She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “It’s just that twenty-four hours ago, my life was simple. I knew what to expect every day. I knew what my future would be. Everything’s been turned upside down and I’m having a hard time adjusting.”
“Why don’t you let me do the worrying, and you just try to relax.”
“How can I relax when I have buttons I can push that will connect me with the police department if someone breaks in?”
“I know it’s a lot to ask. But think about this. If I expected that Hastings would do something, you couldn’t get me out of here with a court order. But I’m going home. I’m being overly cautious, that’s all.”
Maggie pushed away from him. “I don’t understand why you’re willing to help me like this. What do you get out of it?”
“A good-deed badge to sew on my sash? What does it matter?” He opened the door. “I forgot to tell you that your new winter coat is hanging in your closet.”
“It is? Did Brendan send it over?”
“I got it back.”
“From the restaurant?”
“From Hastings,.”
He shut the door behind him, leaving her with even more questions. Definitely a man of mystery. And definitely much more than he seemed.
She yanked open the door and yelled down the stairs. “What does novia mean?”
“Sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder. “But don’t take it too seriously. I called my favorite dog that, too.”
From just outside the door to the Carola’s dining room, J.D. heard Maggie humming within. He relaxed some as he moved to the maître d’s podium. He’d called her ten times during the day, although he left messages only twice. She hadn’t returned his calls.
At least she had been wearing the necklace.
“Hi.”
He hadn’t heard her come up beside him. She stood smiling tentatively at him, her bright blue eyes examining his face as she seemed to gauge his mood. It irritated the hell out of him. She was supposed to be the unpredictable one.
He lounged against the podium and crossed his arms. “How was your day?”
“Busy. Tiering. There’s a lot to do. Jazz and I interviewed several wedding coordinators, then we bought the fabric for my gown.”
“I’d like to be included in the planning.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Would you? I hadn’t realized.”
“It’s my wedding, too, Magnolia.”
“Such as it is.”
He put a finger to her lips, then bent close to her. Close enough to fill his head with her perfume. “The only place we can talk freely is in your apartment. Here, and everywhere else, we are a happily engaged couple.”
“Are we going to announce it to everyone now?”
“We’d better. Hastings made a reservation for tonight and he already knows. I think our friends would be disappointed to hear it through him.” He straightened again, holding her scent in his lungs, letting it filter through his body to tease him, as it was intended to do.
“How does Brendan know?”
“I told him when I got your coat back.”
“What was his reaction?”
He’d laughed J.D. couldn’t tell her that—that Hastings didn’t believe the engagement. But their business relationship required circumspection between the two men. J.D. would play his role.
“He wished us well,” he said.
“Why don’t I believe that?”
“Why didn’t you return my calls today, Magnolia?”
Maggie mirrored his pose by leaning an elbow on the podium beside him and also crossing her arms, wishing she’d stop shivering every time he said her name in that soft, warm voice he used to tease information from her. “I would have gladly done so, if I had your phone number.”
She had the pleasure of seeing his skin draw taut over his cheekbones before he slid a piece of paper from a drawer.
“Here is my home phone, pager, cellular phone and address.”
“And to think I couldn’t find you today,” she murmured, awed by his accessibility. She tucked the paper in her pocket. “If you really want to be involved in the plans, we need to talk about a guest list for the wedding so that we can order invitations.”
“Tonight, after work. I have a couple of things to discuss with you, as well.”
“Okay. Then tomorrow you can come help me paint the second bedroom.”
“As long as it isn’t pink.”
“Deal. I’m assuming we’ll be living at my place.”
“My apartment would be too small for the two of us. One bedroom.”
Works for me, Maggie thought.
“I noticed that Judge Shaunnessey has a reservation tonight. What would you think of asking him to perform the wedding ceremony?” Diego asked.
“Can he still do that, since he’s retired?”
“We can ask him.”
“Okay. I think it’s a wonderful idea. He’s a sweetheart.”
“A sweetheart.”
Maggie grinned. She loved the way he repeated the things she said that baffled or intrigues him, not phrasing a question but simply repeating the words. “You didn’t know him before his hair started graying. He had the brightest red hair you’d ever want to see, and we all thought he’d have a temper to match. But nothing ruffles him.”
“An excellent quality in a judge.”
She flattened a hand against his chest to smooth the pleats of his shirt. “Nothing seems to ruffle you, either.”
His hand curved around hers. His eyes filled with warmth as he drew up her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “You’d be surprised, Magnolia.”
She held her breath for a minute, then she frowned in understanding. “Who’s watching us?”
“Joe and Ruthie.”
The bartender and a fellow waitress. “What are they doing?”
He kissed her hand again. He didn’t appear to be looking anywhere but at her. Maggie was impressed.
“Elbowing each other,” he said. “Snickering. I think we’d better go make the announcement.”
Maggie watched him show surprise at the presence of their co-workers. She shook her head, hiding a smile. He was good. Damn good. She was glad to be along for the ride.
The evening was perfect. Their co-workers offered handshakes, hugs and deafening good wishes. Judge Shaunnessey agreed to perform the wedding ceremony. Brendan Hastings canceled his reservation. Then the evening got even better when Misty Champion came in alone as the club was closing.
“I was stuck at the warehouse today and yesterday,” she said to Maggie as they stood in the lobby.
“You spent New Year’s Day at the warehouse?”
“I’ve never been able to give up control of the business. No matter how many people I hire to take charge, I still follow up on things myself. My curse.” She shrugged. “The spring line heads to stores in a couple of weeks. We’ve got stock to the rafters. It’s going to be our best year
ever. But I’m sure you’re more interested in what happened with Brendan.”
“Every detail. I’ve been really worried about you. I left a bunch of messages for you.”
“That’s why I’m here. Well, he didn’t miss a beat, hon. In fact, he almost seemed to be expecting me instead of you.”
“So he treated you all right?”
“He was edgy, but not rude. We spent an hour together, then we went our own ways.”
“I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” Maggie turned as she heard Diego’s voice and saw him walking with Judge Shaunnessey. Diego came to Maggie’s side and put an arm around her.
“Did you tell her?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“You’re getting married!” Misty exclaimed, looking from one to the other.
“On January twenty-first It’ll be a small wedding, but you’re invited, of course,” Maggie said as the women hugged.
Misty kissed J.D.’s cheek. “You must have the wedding at my house. And the reception. Please,” Misty implored them. “I have the perfect room. It will hold fifty people comfortable. Is that enough?”
“But, Misty—” Maggie began.
“Unless you have a church lined up, of course.”
Not hardly, Maggie thought. Their marriage of convenience wasn’t worthy of such a setting. “No. But still. we can’t ask that of you. I interviewed wedding coordinators today—”
“I’ll arrange everything. All you need to do is show up. Call me tomorrow and we’ll get together. Oh! I’m so happy for you both. Two of my most favorite people in the world. I won’t take no for an answer.”
Maggie felt Diego squeeze her hand when she would have protested further. “All right. All right.” She laughed. “No wonder you’ve succeeded so well in business. You just bulldoze your way into agreement. Misty, do you know Judge Shaunnessey? He’s going to perform the ceremony.”
