by Lisa Kleypas
For the maximum amount of privacy at a bar and grill, the place had to be either completely packed or mostly empty. The restaurant where I met Ryan was so crowded that we were obliged to occupy two seats at the end of the bar and order our lunch from there. I always liked eating at a bar where the full menu was served, and for this particular conversation, it would be ideal. We could sit close without having to maintain eye contact, which was the perfect way to discuss something this difficult.
“Before I start,” I said to Ryan, “I should tell you that it’s bad news. Or maybe it’s good news disguised as bad news. Either way, it’s going to sound bad when I tell you. If you’d rather not know, I apologize for wasting your time, and lunch is on me, but you’re going to know eventually, so —”
“Avery,” Ryan interrupted, “slow down, honey. You’ve been turbocharged.”
I smiled crookedly. “New York,” I offered by way of explanation. I was surprised but pleased by the endearment, which he’d said in a brotherly way, as if I were part of the family.
The bartender brought a glass of wine for me and a beer for Ryan, and we gave him our orders.
“As far as bad news goes,” Ryan told me, “I prefer to have it right away. I don’t like it sugarcoated. And don’t tell me the bright side. If it’s not obvious, it’s not a bright side.”
“Good point.” I considered various ways to break the news, wondering if I should start with Kolby’s appearance on the plane or Bethany’s fallacious due date. “I’m trying to think of how to explain all of this.”
“Try five words or less,” Ryan suggested.
“The baby’s not yours.”
Ryan stared at me blankly.
I repeated it more slowly. “The baby’s not yours.” I wondered if it was bad that it felt so good to tell him.
With extreme care, Ryan closed his hand around his beer glass and drank the contents without stopping. He signaled the bartender for another. “Go on,” he murmured, bracing his forearms on the edge of the bar, looking straight ahead.
For twenty minutes, Ryan listened while I talked. I couldn’t read him at all – he was incredibly good at concealing his emotions. But gradually I sensed that he was relaxing, in the deep and elemental way of someone who had carried a heavy burden for months and was finally being allowed to let it go.
Eventually Ryan said, “What Hollis said about hurting your business… don’t you worry about that. I’ll handle the Warners, so you —”
“Jesus, Ryan, your first concern doesn’t have to be for me. Let’s talk about you. Are you okay? I was afraid maybe you had feelings for Bethany, and —”
“No, I tried. The best I could do was be kind to her. But I never wanted her.” Reaching out, Ryan hugged me while we remained sitting on the bar stools. The embrace was fervent and strong. “Thank you,” he murmured in my hair. “God, thank you.”
I wasn’t certain if he was saying it to me or actually praying.
Drawing back, Ryan looked at me with impossibly blue eyes. “You didn’t have to tell me. You could have gone ahead with the wedding and collected your percentage.”
“And then stand back and watch the Warners take you to the cleaners? I don’t think so.” I gave him a concerned glance. “What are you going to do now?”
“I’m going to talk to Bethany as soon as possible. I’ll do what I should have done in the first place: tell her we’ll wait until after the baby’s born, and do a DNA test. In the meantime, I’ll demand to meet her doctor and find out the accurate due date.”
“So the wedding is off,” I said.
“Pull the plug” came his decisive reply. “I’ll compensate Hollis for the costs that you can’t recoup. And I want to pay you and your people for the hours you’ve put in.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is.”
We talked for a while longer, while the lunch crowd gradually cleared out and the waitstaff was busy running back and forth with credit card folders, cash, and receipts. Ryan paid the check for our lunch and gave the bartender a mammoth tip.
As we left the restaurant, Ryan held the door open for me. “You didn’t mention how your meeting with the TV producers went.”
“It went well,” I said in an offhand tone. “I got the impression they were working up to a nice offer. But I turned them down. They couldn’t make me a deal that would top what I’ve already got here.”
“Glad you’re going to stay. By the way… are you going to see Joe anytime soon?”
“I expect so.”
“He’s been as ornery as a two-headed bull while you were gone. Jack says the next time you go anywhere, you have to take Joe with you. None of the rest of us can stand him like this.”
I laughed, while nerves fluttered in my stomach. “I’m not sure how things are between Joe and me right now,” I confessed. “Our last call didn’t end too well.”
“I wouldn’t worry.” Ryan smiled. “But don’t put off talking to him. For all our sakes.”
I nodded. “I’ll get my team started on unplanning the wedding, and then I’ll call him.” We parted company and headed to our separate cars. “Ryan,” I said. He stopped to look back at me. “Someday you’re going to hire me to plan another wedding. And the next time, it’ll be for the right reasons.”
“Avery,” he replied sincerely, “I’m going to hire someone to shoot me if I ever get engaged again.”
Twenty-two
A
s soon as I came through the front door, I heard Coco begin to yip frantically. She hurried to me from the main seating area, almost beside herself with excitement. “Coco!” I exclaimed, dropping my bag and scooping her up.
She licked me and tried to cuddle closer while yapping as if to nag me for having been away so long.
I heard a chorus of welcomes from various places around the studio.
It was good to be home.
“Dogs have no sense of time,” Sofia said, reaching me in a few strides. “She thinks you were gone for two weeks instead of two days.”
“It felt like two weeks,” I said.
She kissed me on both cheeks, while Coco wriggled excitedly between us. “Oh, it’s good to have you back! I got some of your texts, but you were so quiet yesterday, and nothing at all last night.”
“The events of the past two days would surpass even the most overwrought telenovela,” I said. “Prepare to be shocked.”
Steven laughed and came to me for a hug. After enfolding me in a hearty embrace, he drew back and looked down at me with twinkling blue eyes. “I’m shockproof now,” he said. “I’ve watched enough of those idiotic shows that I can see every plot twist from a mile away.”
“Trust me, I’m about to put you to the test.” I frowned as Coco kissed my cheek and I felt how raspy her tongue was. “Didn’t anyone put coconut oil on her tongue while I was gone?” I demanded. “It’s like an emery board.”
“She won’t let anyone touch it,” Sofia protested. “I tried. Tell her, Steven.”
“She tried,” he acknowledged. “I watched.”
“He laughed until he fell off the sofa,” Sofia said.
I shook my head and looked into Coco’s soulful eyes. “I don’t want to think about what you’ve endured.”
“It wasn’t that terrible —” Sofia began.
“Sweetheart,” Steven interrupted, “I think she’s talking to the Chihuahua.”
After taking care of Coco’s tongue, I asked everyone to stop what they were doing and sit at the long table. “For the rest of the day,” I said, “we’re all going to be busy with a special project.”
“Sounds fun,” Val said lightly.
“It’s not going to be fun in the least.” I looked at Ree-Ann. “Have the Warner wedding invitations gone out yet?” I asked, thinking, Please say no, please say no…
“Yesterday,” she said proudly.
I uttered a word that made her eyes widen.
“You told me to,” she protested. “I was on
ly doing what you —”
“I know. It’s fine. Unfortunately it means extra work, but we can handle it. I need you to print out the master list, Ree-Ann. We’re going to have to contact everyone on it and obtain verbal confirmation of the cancellation.”
“What? Why? What are you talking about?”
“We have to unplan the Warner-Chase wedding.”
“How much of it?” Steven asked.
“All of it.”
Tank looked bewildered. “It’s postponed?”
“It’s off,” I said. “Permanently off.”
Everyone looked at me and asked in unison, “Why?”
“It doesn’t go beyond this room. We do not gossip about clients. Ever.”
“Yes, we all know,” Steven said. “Explain, Avery.”
Two hours later, my team still appeared to be dazed by the turn of events. I had assured them that we would all be compensated for the time we’d spent. There would be other weddings, other chances to make our mark. Still, that was small consolation when they had been tasked with unraveling a wedding that was only a month away. Steven had already succeeded in canceling the fleet of Rolls-Royces and one of the wedding favor orders. Sophia had contacted the caterers and the chair and table rental company and was waiting for callbacks. Val and Ree-Ann had both been assigned to call every name on the guest list and inform them of the cancellation, while claiming ignorance as to the reason why.
“How long do we have to do this?” Ree-Ann moaned. “It’s five o’clock. I want to go home.”
“I’d like you to work until six, if possible,” I said. “Depending on how the unplanning goes, we’ll all have to put in some overtime this week, so you may want to —” I stopped as I heard a key turn in the front door.
The only people with keys were Sofia, me, Steven… and Joe.
He let himself in. His searing gaze found me at once.
A potent silence infused the room.
Joe looked the worse for wear, sleep-deprived, with no reserve of patience left. He was big and brooding and surly… and he was all mine.
The sound of my heartbeat filled my head with ragged music.
“Ryan called me.” Joe’s voice was like gravel in a blender.
The studio was quiet. Everyone listened avidly, making not even the slightest pretense at minding their own business. Even Coco had climbed to the top of the sofa back to watch us with prurient interest.
“Did he tell you —” I began.
“Yes.” It was clear that Joe didn’t give a damn about who was there or what they saw. His focus was riveted exclusively on me. His color had heightened, and his jaw was hard, and despite his obvious effort at control, I could tell he was on a hair trigger.
I had to get everyone out of the studio. Fast.
“Let me clear a couple of things out of the way,” I said distractedly, “and then we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk.” Joe moved toward me and paused as I stepped back instinctively. “In thirty seconds,” he warned, “you’re mine. You’ll want to be upstairs when it happens.” He glanced at his watch.
“Joe…” I shook my head with an agitated laugh. “Come on, you can’t just —”
“Twenty-five.”
Shit. He wasn’t kidding.
I cast a wild glance at Ree-Ann and Val, who were having the time of their lives. “You can go home now,” I told them curtly. “Good work, everyone. Be back bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“I’m going to stay and keep working until six,” Ree-Ann said virtuously.
“I’ll help,” Val chimed in.
Tank shook his head and sent me one of his rare grins. “I’ll kick ’em out, Avery.”
Steven picked up his keys. “Let’s go to dinner,” he suggested to Sofia in a casual tone, as if nothing untoward were happening. As if I weren’t just about to be ravished in the living room.
“Eighteen seconds,” Joe said.
Outraged and giddy, I rushed to the stairs in a panic. “Joe, this is ridiculous —”
“Fifteen.” He began to follow me at a measured pace. Feeling like a hunted creature, I scrambled up the steps, which seemed to have turned into an escalator.
By the time I reached my room, Joe had caught up to me. I ran inside and turned to face him as he closed the door. He tensed in readiness to catch me, no matter which direction I bolted. But then I saw the shadows beneath his eyes, and the flush beneath his tan, and my heart ached. I headed straight for him.
His hard arms closed around me. His mouth took mine, and he growled softly in what could have been pleasure or agony. For a few minutes there was nothing but darkness and sensation, those deep kisses demolishing every thought. I was never quite certain how we ended up on the bed. We rolled across the mattress fully clothed, grappling and kissing in a fury, breaking apart only when the need for oxygen was imperative. Joe kissed my neck and tugged at my shirt, more aggressive than he’d ever been before, until I heard threads snapping and felt a button pop off.
With a shaky laugh, I put my hands on either side of his face. “Joe. Take it easy. Hey —”
He kissed me again, shivering with the effort of holding back. I felt the hot, ready pressure of him against me, and I wanted him so badly that a moan rose in my throat. But there were things that needed to be said.
“I’m choosing the life I want,” I managed to tell him. “There’s no obligation for you. I’m staying because this is my home and I can make my own dreams come true right here, with my sister and my friends and employees and my dog, and all the things I —”
“What about me? Was I a part of your decision?”
“Well…”
He frowned, his gaze raking over me as I hesitated.
“Joe, what I’m trying to say is… I don’t expect a commitment from you because of this. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. It may be years before we figure out how we feel about each other, so —”
He smothered my words with his mouth, kissing me until I was drunk on the taste and feel of him. After a long time, his head lifted. “You know right now,” he whispered, staring at me with those midnight eyes. Tender amusement lurked in the corners of his mouth. This was the Joe I was accustomed to, the one who loved to tease me without mercy. “And you’re going to tell me.”
My heart began to thump, not in a good way. I wasn’t sure I could do what he wanted. “Later.”
“Now.” He rested more of his weight on me, as if he were settling in for a prolonged siege.
I abandoned all pride. “Joe, please, please don’t make me —”
“Say it,” he murmured. “Or in about ten minutes you’ll be screaming it with me inside you.”
“Jesus.” I squirmed and fidgeted. “You are the most —”
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“Why do I have to be the first?”
Joe held me with his relentless gaze. “Because I want you to.”
Realizing there would be no compromise, I began to wheeze as if I’d just run a marathon. Somehow I got out the words in one fraught breath.
To my outrage, Joe began to laugh softly. “Honey… you say it like you’re confessing to a crime.”
I scowled and wriggled beneath him. “If you’re going to make fun of me —”
“No,” he said tenderly, keeping me pinned in place. He took my head in his hands. A last chuckle escaped, and then he stared into my eyes, seeing everything, hiding nothing. “I love you,” he said. His mouth caressed mine, soft as velvet. “Now try it again.” Another gentle, smoldering stroke of his lips. “You don’t have to be scared.”
“I love you,” I managed to say, my heart still thundering.
Joe rewarded me by covering my mouth with his, searching deeply. After a kiss that dismantled my brain entirely, he finished with a soft nuzzle. “I can’t kiss you enough,” he told me. “I’m going to kiss you a million times in our life, and it will never be enough.”
Our life.
I
had never known a happiness like this, reaching all the way down to the place in my heart where sorrow usually started, siphoning up tears. Joe wiped at the wetness with his fingers and pressed his lips to my cheeks, absorbing the salty taste of joy.
“Let’s practice some more,” he whispered.
And before long, I discovered that with the right person, saying those three words wasn’t difficult at all.
It was the easiest thing in the world.
