The Wedding Bargain

by Lee McKenzie

  What were you thinking?

  Eight hours ago she had not been thinking about what she was going to wear tonight. Now she was stuck with faded old jeans, a T-shirt she had splurted ketchup on that afternoon, a plaid shirt and a pair of Converse sneakers that were still damp with toilet water because the toilet had overflowed…again. She would have to scrape up enough money to hire a plumber, and she had to do it soon, because the health inspector had said he’d be back in a week.

  Her two remaining customers signaled that they were ready for their bill. After they left, she went into the office and dug her emergency bag of toiletries out of the bottom drawer of the desk. Deodorant, a bar of soap, half a box of tampons and a sample-size bottle of moisturizer that was so old, she couldn’t remember where she got it, never mind when. All perfectly usable stuff—well, all except the moisturizer—in the average emergency. Spending the evening with Michael looking the way she did right now was a code-red crisis.

  Desperate times, desperate measures, she thought. She picked up the phone and called Rory.

  She explained the situation and her friend agreed to bring everything she needed.

  “Unless I can dig up a pair of traveling pants, I’m pretty sure my jeans are all too big for you. How about a skirt? I’m sure—”

  “No! No skirts. The jeans I’m wearing will be fine, but I need a clean shirt.”

  “That’s easy.”

  “Nothing fancy,” Jess said. “Nothing too flashy, either, and nothing revealing. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

  Rory laughed. “And the right idea would be…?”

  “That I look nice without him thinking I’m trying to impress him.” Or that I’m trying to get him into bed.

  “Then I’ll be sure to bring something unimpressive,” she said, still laughing. “It’ll be fun to see everyone. Mitch and I are looking forward to it, and we’ll come a little earlier than planned so I can get you all dolled up.”

  Jess sighed.

  “I’m kidding,” Rory said. “I’ll see you soon.”

  TRUE TO HER WORD, Rory and Mitch arrived half an hour before the others. Somewhat surprisingly, there were already four people at one table and two more sitting at the bar. Not busy by anyone’s standards, but busier than usual for this early on a Saturday evening.

  Rory looked totally gorgeous in a pair of black skinny jeans and a sleeveless raspberry-colored turtleneck and gold jewelry. Mitch looked as if he couldn’t get enough of looking at her, and it was easy to see why. Rory showed him to the gang’s usual corner table and shed her jacket while Jess poured him a beer and made sure her other customers were good, then she was hustled into her office by Rory.

  “I found something that fits the bill,” Rory said, pulling a powder-pink top out of her tote bag. “I bought it on sale and haven’t even worn it yet, so it’s all yours.”

  It was not at all what Jess had in mind. “What else did you bring?”

  “Makeup.”

  “That’s it? I never wear pink. It clashes with my hair.”

  Rory shook out the top and draped it against Jess’s shoulders. “It does not. Pink is perfect with your complexion. Now, stop stalling and put it on.”

  Jess reluctantly shrugged out of her plaid shirt and stripped off the stained T-shirt.

  Rory’s eyebrows shot up.

  Jess glanced down at her ancient white bra that had seen better days. She felt like a kid being warned to put on clean underwear in case she was in an accident. Too bad, she thought. It wasn’t as if anyone else was going to see it. She quickly pulled on the top and looked down at herself.

  It was a baby-doll style that flowed to her hips from an empire waist. She kind of liked that part, even though it was a bit on the girlie side. But the upper part was as snug as could be, and even though it had long sleeves and a high scooped neckline, there was nothing modest about the way it clung to her breasts.

  “It’s perfect,” Rory said. “I knew it would be.”

  Jess glared at her. “Perfect for you. I never wear things like this.”

  Rory smiled triumphantly. “I don’t own anything that looks like the things you usually wear. You said you didn’t want anything revealing. This is completely modest and it’s not going to give anyone the wrong impression.”

  “I don’t know…”

  Rory shrugged. “It’s either this or your dirty T-shirt. What was that, anyway?”

  “Ketchup.”

  Rory laughed. And she was right. Jess couldn’t even consider wearing what she had just taken off. She looked at her slightly distorted reflection in the old mirror behind the door and saw that Rory was at least right about the color. It actually didn’t look bad on her at all. She wished her assets—modest as they were—weren’t out there for the world to see, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She hated being ogled, and yet some secret part of her couldn’t wait to see what Michael’s reaction would be. The night they’d met, he had been amused by her lack of confidence in her dress’s ability to keep her covered up, but come to think of it, she hadn’t once caught him staring at her breasts the way some guys did. She hated that.

  “I’m not done,” Rory said. “Sit down so I can fix your hair and makeup.”

  Knowing better than to argue, Jess complied. A few minutes later her cheeks had been dusted with blush and her eyelashes tinged with mascara. Rory insisted on combing out Jess’s ponytail and instead swept her hair away from her face and fastened it at the back with a large silver clip.

  “Okay, now I’m done. Let’s have a look.”

  Jess stood and made an awkward spin so her friend could survey her handiwork.

  “Very nice. Even Eric would approve, and I’m sure Michael will be completely unimpressed.” Rory laughed and gave her a hug.

  “Thanks,” Jess said. “Come on, I’ll make you a cosmo and check on my customers.”

  One more table had filled up, and Maria and Tony had arrived. Jess took orders and by the time she served them, Paige had arrived with Andy. After he held her chair, he took the one beside it and draped an arm across the back of hers, his hand resting affectionately on her shoulders. Paige fidgeted with her glasses, the way she always did when she was flustered.

  “I see you two worked things out,” she whispered to Paige before she took their drink orders.

  From behind the bar, she saw Nic and Jonathan come in and join the others in the corner. Jess waved to them, poured them each a glass of red wine and added those to the tray with Paige’s and Andy’s drinks. Before she finished serving those, two thirtysomething guys in sweatshirts and ball caps came in and sat at the bar. They each ordered a pint of ale without taking their eyes off Jess’s breasts. She slapped a couple of coasters in front of them, pulled the pints and resisted the urge to tip the beer into their laps when she served them.

  By the time Michael showed up, the bar was crazy busy—way busier than it had been in months. Aaron hadn’t called back and she gave up on hearing from him. She had also given up on a chance to sit with her friends. Not that she would ever complain about being busy, but the timing was terrible. On the bright side, the extra cash would cover the hole in her bank account after she’d shelled out the money for a building permit earlier this week.

  Michael nodded a greeting to her and took a chair next to Jonathan. Out of the corner of one eye she watched the two men talk while she mixed drinks and filled glasses and pitchers with beer. After she served those, she stopped by her friends’ table, acutely aware that they were all waiting to see how she and Michael would respond to each other.

  She stood on the other side of the table and made a point of smiling at him. “Let me guess,” she said. “A Guinness?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She checked the status of everyone else’s drinks and hustled back behind the bar. He watched her while she wiped the counter, loaded glassware into the dishwasher and filled glasses. She knew that because every time she glanced across the room, they made
eye contact.

  Ever since she’d invited him, she had imagined how this evening would go, starting with Eric behind the bar and her sitting at the corner table with everyone else. Michael would sit beside her. They would bump elbows a couple of times and then one of them would swivel the chair to one side and their knees would connect. Their hands would accidentally touch a few times, and then he would finally lean over and say something into her ear, something only she was meant to hear. It would make her smile, and then after that they would talk and laugh as if they were the only two people in the world. He would stay after the others left. The only part of the daydream that wasn’t fiction was the way he would kiss her good-night. She already knew exactly how that would go.

  Idiot. See what daydreaming gets you? Disappointed.

  And what did dressing to attract a man get her? A couple of ball caps with wandering eyes. She did her best to ignore their asinine conversation and suggestive remarks, all of which were loud and in bad taste. If they weren’t careful, one or both of them could still end up wearing their beer.

  She grabbed a tray to do the rounds, take orders and pick up empties just as Michael joined her behind the bar. He was carrying a couple of empty glasses, including his own, which he set on the counter.

  “Looks like you could use some help.”

  “Thanks. Would you like another beer?”

  “Not right now. How about I clear the tables while you take orders?”

  “Oh. You don’t have to—”

  He reached for the tray and bumped her elbow with his. “I want to. Besides, it looks like this might be the only way we’ll get to spend any time together.”

  This was not how she’d hoped the evening would unfold, but she could use the help and she’d rather spend time with him than watch him from across the room. “All right, then. You’re hired.”

  By the time she came back with the orders, he had cleared the tables, put the clean glasses back on the shelf and was refilling the dishwasher. His jacket, she noticed, had been tossed on the back counter and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows.

  “Looks like you’ve done this before,” she said.

  “I know my way around a bar. What else can I do to help?”

  She rattled off a couple of beer orders and he filled the glasses while she scooped ice into the cocktail shaker and mixed another cosmopolitan for Rory. “Oh, and my friend Paige would like another glass of white wine.”

  “Coming right up.” He reached around her for a glass and his arm brushed across her shoulders.

  She poured the contents of the shaker into a cocktail glass and added it to the tray at the same time he set Paige’s wineglass on it. Their hands touched. It was accidental and it would be dumb to think he felt the same sizzle she did, but he didn’t pull away, either. She hoisted the tray off the counter and he stepped back so she could get by.

  Working with him was easy—it felt natural. You’d think we’d been doing this forever instead of fifteen minutes.

  “Would you fellows like another beer?” he asked the two guys in ball caps at the bar. Maybe they’d be more civilized with another man around.

  No such luck. During the evening she kept her cool and ignored the two jerks whose ogling became more obvious with every glass of beer they consumed. If Michael even noticed she had breasts, he didn’t let on. In that regard he was a perfect gentleman, which was just her luck because of all the men there, she might not have minded being ogled by him. She quickly discovered that working with him was a lot more fun than just sitting with him would have been. For one thing, she didn’t have to come up with witty conversation—which she was really lousy at—and it provided countless opportunities for them to bump into each other. The first few times their hands and elbows and shoulders connected, it was accidental. After a while they didn’t bother trying to avoid touching and it gradually became intentional. He made a point of brushing her arm with his when he reached for a glass, so she reciprocated by letting her hand linger next to his as he passed her a handful of change left by a customer. Even the losers who’d been sitting at the bar all evening finally got a clue, paid their tab and left.

  After the rush died down a bit, she and Michael finally joined her friends for a few minutes before everyone left.

  “We’ll have to do this again soon,” Nicola said. “Next time Eric will be here and the two of you will be able to sit with us.”

  Maria’s husband helped her to her feet. “This has been so much fun,” she said. “I love being a mom, but you have no idea how good it feels to spend a couple of hours in adult company.”

  That was followed by a discussion of everyone’s plans for Thanksgiving, then everyone hugged everyone else as they made their way outside.

  Michael walked back to the bar with Jess.

  “Thank you so much,” Jess said to him. “You were a lifesaver tonight. You don’t have to stay, though.” She felt she had to say it, even though she didn’t mean it. “I can take it from here.”

  “I’d like to stay, if it’s okay with you.”

  Oh, it was more than okay.

  After the last customer left and she locked the door, she was glad he stayed. He finished clearing tables and wiped them down while she cashed out, then he rejoined her behind the bar.

  “When your friends were talking about Thanksgiving, you didn’t mention your plans.”

  “That’s because I don’t have any.”

  “Would you like to?”

  His question was unexpected. “I’ll probably be here.”

  “Would Eric cover for you if you had plans?”

  He would if those plans were with Michael. “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ll be spending the holiday with my family up in Napa Valley. Would you like to join us?”

  “Oh.” Spend the holiday with his family? She hadn’t seen that coming. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to intrude on a family gathering.”

  “You wouldn’t be intruding—you’d be a guest.”

  She desperately wanted to say yes. “I’ll have to check with Eric, make sure he’s feeling well enough to cover for me.” Although for all the business they’d get that day, they could just as easily be closed.

  “I’ll call you on Monday to confirm.”

  She had a million questions, starting with why he wanted her to meet his family. Or did he just feel sorry for her because she didn’t have plans for the holiday? Don’t go there, she warned herself. If it was a pity invitation, she didn’t want to know.

  “Can you excuse me for a few seconds? I should take out the trash and check the restrooms before I leave.”

  He reached for the bag of trash before she picked it up. “Point me in the right direction,” he said. “I’ll look after this while you deal with the washrooms.”

  She told him where the garbage bins were. In the men’s restroom she picked up several crumpled pieces of paper towel off the floor. No surprises in the women’s, and she was beyond grateful that the one functioning toilet hadn’t acted up. A few more nights like tonight and she might be able to afford a plumber.

  Michael was back when she was finished with the restroom. For the first time that evening, his gaze traveled over her body. The pace was leisurely and his intent clear. Her skin heated up underneath her clothes. Then he moved in and put his arms around her. His body was solid and warm against hers. “It’s been a long night. I’ve wanted to do this for hours.”

  His naturally deep voice now had an even huskier tone. He could have been reading the phone book out loud and there would still have been no mistaking his intent.

  “Me, too.” Might as well be honest. He was back to making direct eye contact, and she knew that he knew she was thinking the same thing he was thinking.

  He reached up to the back of her head and undid the silver clip. It clattered onto the countertop when he let it go, and then he combed the fingers of both hands through her hair. She closed her eyes and felt her mind go comp
letely empty, aware of nothing except how incredibly gentle and unhurried he was. When she opened them again, he smiled and then he kissed her.

  His mouth was more urgent than his hands had been.

  She wound her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his, just enough to let him know she wanted this to last longer than their first kiss the night he’d driven her here after dinner.

  He seemed to get the message.

  His tongue touched hers with a quick teasing invitation, then it retreated. She RSVP’d with a similar move, and the party was on. Within seconds they were both gasping, his hot breath mingling with hers.

  His hand made its way under the loose fabric of her top and his fingers drew fiery trails across her skin till they reached the lower edge of her bra and the snug-fitting band of her top. For a split second Rory’s look of horror at the appearance of her no-longer-white cotton bra flashed through Jess’s mind.

  Was she really ready to let Michael to see it?

  He nudged her clothing up till his fingertips found what they were searching for.

  He obviously had more important things on his mind than the state of her undergarments, and now so did she.

  “Is this okay?” he asked. He must have sensed her hesitation.

  “Yes,” she whispered. It was heaven.

  He was a lot taller than she was, and her exploration of his shoulders and chest and abs showed that he was in amazing shape, but his size and strength weren’t threatening. Everything about this man was exactly the opposite of that. He was gentle; he asked if what he was doing was okay and he made it clear that if she wanted to stop, he would.

  She didn’t want to stop.

  One of his hands cupped her butt and drew her against him, close and intimate. That should have brought her to her senses, but instead she lost them altogether. She angled her hips against his and pulled away, choking out a little gasp as she did. Arousal, unaccompanied by fear, was new. She didn’t want this to stop. Couldn’t have stopped if she’d tried.