by Cathryn Fox
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Adam intoned dryly and managed to steal another quick, hard kiss before he was firmly pushed out the door.
Chapter Ten
“Hey, Sam,” Adam called, striding into the living room, the screen door banging behind him, “I know I’m a half-hour early, but the traffic’s heavy tonight. Sam?”
“Adam, thank heaven! I’m in terrible trouble, hurry up.”
“What the devil!” He took the steps two at a time. “Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m not all right!” Samantha snapped crossly. “Do I look all right?”
Adam grinned broadly, taking in her flushed face, tousled blond curls and a teal green dress that appeared to be half on and half off. “No, you don’t look very wedding-ish. What seems to be the problem?”
“I’m stuck.”
“Stuck?”
“Yes, stuck!” She glared at him. “The stupid zipper is jammed, it won’t go up or down and I’m missing my other shoe. God, I hope Lucy didn’t accidentally pack it,” she finished on a desperate note.
Tossing the white florist’s box he’d been carrying on the gold comforter, Adam turned her around and bent to inspect the offending zipper. “Let’s see about fixing your dress then we’ll find your shoe,” he told her calmly.
“It’s not broken is it?” She turned and twisted, trying to get a better look. “Gosh, I don’t have anything else to wear. Can you fix it?”
“If you stop wiggling, I can,” he admonished her. “Let’s get over here where the light is better.” He dragged her backward to the dressing table lamp. “Hmm, it looks like you’ve got material caught in the zipper.”
“I’m so glad it’s not broken,” she sighed in relief, then hitched a breath. “The material’s not ripped is it? Is there a hole…”
“No. Just calm down, I’m a whiz with zippers.”
“That I can truly believe,” she shot back, feeling his warm fingers sliding up her spine. “Zipper…”
“Tut, tut,” he carefully began to separate the jammed material. “Here’s the problem…the zipper grabbed both the lining and your slip. You’re wearing too much underwear.”
“Lucky me to find someone on such intimate terms with ladies lingerie,” she replied tartly and then gave a little squeal when he reached underneath the dress to pull the half-slip down to her ankles. “Are you a magician?”
“I’m lots of things,” he whispered in her ear, sliding the zipper neatly up her back and fastening the small hook closing at her nape. “You are all set.” Adam turned her around. “What’s next?”
“My shoe,” Samantha held up a beige pump. “The other one is hiding somewhere in the closet. Can you find it while I fix my hair?”
“For a woman who claimed she was always on time, you are really in a state. What happened?” Pulling the light cord, Adam ducked his head and peered into the dormer closet.
“It all started this morning when Carl Edwards called to see if I could watch Mimi and Marc while he took Diane to the emergency room.” Samantha settled at the dressing table and combed her hair into more orderly waves.
“What happened to Diane?” The muffled question was punctuated by a thump and a swear word, when his head hit the angled truss.
“You really have to watch the eaves. Are you okay?”
“Yes, my attitude just got adjusted. So, what sent Diane to the ER?”
“She was vacuuming the stairs and slipped. At first they thought she had just a sprained ankle, but it turned out to be broken,” Samantha explained, sliding a column of zircons into pierced ears. “So the ‘dynamic duo’ and I spent the morning watching cartoons and the afternoon jumping into piles of raked leaves until Carl and Diane got back.”
“Are you sure you’ve got a mate for this shoe?”
“No. I always buy just one! Gee, I don’t even have that many shoes…”
“Ahhha, success. Ouch,” he came out massaging the back of his head. “It was hidden under a suitcase way in the back.”
Samantha breathed a sigh of relief. “You are terrific.”
“Your foot, madam.” She giggled as he carefully placed the peep-toed heels on her feet. Pulling her up from the chair, Adam surveyed her critically. Teal green horizontal pleats wrapped her curves, the cap shoulders drew his eyes down to a low V-neck highlighted by a matching fabric rosette. “You are almost perfect.”
Samantha eyed him warily. “I ate soup for a month to afford this designer number. What’s wrong?”
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t fix.”
“Adam!” His fingers deftly unfastened the rosette. “Whatever do you think you’re doing?”
He just laughed at her outraged expression. Reaching for the florist’s box that had been tossed on the bed, he withdrew a delicate blush-tinted rosebud and secured it to the neckline. “The real thing is much nicer.”
“Oh, it’s beautiful, thank you.”
Deftly, he drew her closer, his lips caressing the curve of her neck. “Normally, you drive me insane with whatever perfume you wear. It reminds me of the beach but today…”
Samantha sighed when she heard him sniff again. “I still smell like peanut butter don’t I?”
His shoulders began to shake with laughter, “I hesitate to ask—”
“I got caught in a peanut butter war during lunch. I was hoping to dazzle you with my cool elegance.”
“You always dazzle me.” He shook his head and grinned. “Come on, we better get going.”
Samantha slid her hands from around his neck, noting the matching rose boutonniere in the lapel of his dark suit. “I’ve got to get the wedding present,” she picked up a large foil-wrapped box from the coffee table.
Adam nosed the Jaguar into the crowded southbound lane of the Interstate that would take them to Judge Griffen’s country estate. “What’s in the gift box?” He asked, once he had the car settled into the traffic flow.
“Well, after Katherine and I had lunch, we did a little window shopping. She made quite a fuss over an old-fashioned bed quilt in one of the craft shops, so I went back later and picked it up. I really couldn’t think of a thing to get them.”
“I had the same trouble,” he nodded. “I asked a few discreet questions about their cruise itinerary and made arrangements for them to have a four-day side trip to the Greek Islands.”
“That…that sounds wonderful. I’m sure they’ll enjoy that very much.”
Adam frowned. “What’s the matter? Don’t you think it’s a good idea?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s a wonderful idea. In fact I recall the judge mentioning he’d love to see more of Greece than just one port-of-call.”
“Then why the unenthusiastic response?”
“No reason.” Except, her forehead puckered, the quilt suddenly seemed all wrong, out of place, provincial…cheap. But it wasn’t, at least not to her budget. Maybe, she should leave it in the trunk of the car. Find something else. Where did Katherine say she had registered? Adam’s voice jarred her thoughts.
“Samantha, what is the problem?”
She slid sideways in the bucket seat. “Nothing. Everything. Forget about my gift…”
“Why? It sounds perfect and –”
“Wrong. It’s just wrong. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m already feeling uncomfortable.” When she caught the expression on his face, she had to laugh. “You’re right, don’t even say it…attitude adjustment.” She grinned ruefully. “I’m afraid my inferiority complex has reared its ugly head.”
“I have a hunch Janine did a better job than I thought at undermining your self-confidence last night,” Adam remarked shrewdly.
Samantha sighed. “I never felt envious before, but last night, I just felt so deficient—”
“That is complete nonsense. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not wanting in any department,” Adam said with quiet sincerity. “Now, how do I get invited to spend the entire day with you tomorrow?”
“What
exactly do you mean by the entire day?”
“Breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” came his insouciant response. “In fact, I’ll even bring the breakfast.”
“You better make it just lunch and dinner. I’m barely civil in the morning. I just scowl and grunt until I have at least four cups of coffee and read the comics.” She ignored his shout of laughter. “I’ll put you to work if you come that early.”
“Doing what?”
“Storm windows,” she told him smugly, as her natural flippancy was restored. “Do you really want to dangle from a ladder removing screens and putting up storm windows?”
“It’s better than having you do it.”
“I cheat and do it from the inside. But with your help, the windows can be cleaned outside and in, and put up properly.” When Adam grumbled something about slave labor, Samantha smiled at him. “Just so your efforts won’t go unrewarded, how about if we go on a picnic. It’s supposed to be another gorgeous eighty degree day tomorrow. Can you row a boat?”
“Single sculls in college.”
She made a face at him. “This is just a standard rowboat. There’s a nice little sandbar in the middle of the lake that’s perfect for a picnic.”
“That sounds terrific,” Adam readily agreed. “Can you think of some quiet little out-of-the-way place I can take you for dinner?”
“There’s a family owned Italian restaurant that’s close by and has delicious food.”
“Perfect.” His right hand slid off the steering wheel to capture hers in a quick, hard squeeze. “We aren’t so far apart after all.”
Adam turned his full attention to negotiating the twisting curve of the highway exit ramp. Samantha gazed at the passing scenery basking in the fiery brilliance of the setting sun. She almost felt like thanking Janine for precipitating last night’s events.
“I wonder where the phrase ‘best man’ came from.” Samantha teased provocatively as they walked up the columned steps of the turn-of-the-century Georgian Colonial. “It would seem to me that the groom would be the best man at his own wedding.”
“Somehow, I get the impression I’ve just been insulted.” Adam pressed the bell. “Don’t you think I’m the best man for the job of attending the groom?”
“I think you’re the best man for any job,” she told him and was rewarded with a lingering kiss that was interrupted by the opening of the front door.
“Thank heaven you’re here, Mr. Rourke. Hello, Samantha,” rushed the excited voice of the judge’s housekeeper.
“Goodness, Duffy, what’s the matter?” Samantha viewed Duffy’s flustered behavior with surprise; the housekeeper was always unflappable.
“You’ll not believe what Janine did to us this morning,” she took charge of the wedding present and ushered them inside.
“Now, Duffy, it can’t be all that bad,” Adam chided, his arched brow directed at Samantha.
“I’m afraid ’tis, sir,” the frazzled housekeeper continued, her excitement giving an Irish lilt to her speech that twenty years in the States hadn’t diminished. “Miss Janine informed us, and only this morning too, that she had invited twenty extra people to the wedding, leaving us to turn an elegant sit-down dinner for twelve into a hastily put together buffet for over thirty!”
Samantha looked at Adam, who shook his head in disgust. “I’m sure you were able to get everything under control, Duffy.” Samantha soothed the matronly housekeeper, who had been taking care of the Griffen household for over twenty years.
“How’s the judge doing in the face of all these new plans?” Adam asked sympathetically.
“He’s been grumbling all day,” sniffed Mrs. Duffy. “But I’ve got to give him credit for not letting Miss Katherine see how upset he is. They had so wanted this to be a quiet family ceremony.”
“Duffy,” came a plaintive call, immediately recognizable as the judge’s. “Has Adam arrived yet?”
“He’s right here, sir.”
“Send him up,” he yelled back. “Let’s see if he remembers how to tie a Windsor knot!”
“He’s been pacing for the last hour,” Mrs. Duffy grimaced. “I was worried he’d come through the ceiling. You’d better see if you can calm him down. I need to get back to the kitchen.”
“You don’t think Janine has any other little surprises up her sleeve, do you?” Samantha asked Adam.
“You can never be sure what that little minx might think up. Be careful, but keep an eye on her and resort to violence if necessary.”
“Thanks a lot!” Samantha grumbled crossly, watching him take the stairs two at a time in response to another plaintive bellow from the judge.
Mrs. Duffy, the florist, and a small staff hired especially for the day had turned the restored Colonial into a beautiful setting for a wedding. The ceremony took place in front of an impressive marble fireplace in one of the twin living rooms. Cleverly placed candelabras and flower arrangements combined with soft lighting to give the room a chapel-like appearance. The French provincial dining room had been set up for the buffet; with its connecting doors to the other living room, there was ample seating for all guests.
Katherine Tyler looked radiant in an ivory tea-length strapless gown, with a ruffled-neck shrug, a pearl-clustered bridal comb held her red hair in an elegant chignon. The judge managed to appear completely unruffled and very handsome in a black suit and silver and black striped tie. The solemn ceremony was presided over by a minister, with the couple reading a short verse of their own selection.
Samantha had to admit, Janine looked striking in a royal purple, strapless cocktail dress. She managed to convey the impression that the entire wedding was her idea and played the part of attentive hostess all evening. She found it difficult to believe that Samantha was once again Adam’s companion for the evening and tried her best to ignore the fact that they had arrived together. She took great delight in joining them while they were sitting with the bride and groom enjoying the buffet supper.
“Adam,” Janine cooed, settling herself next to him on the brocade sofa. “You do remember you’re expected here tomorrow for the planning session for Daddy’s retirement dinner. I’m hosting a brunch, so be here by ten.”
Samantha gave him a playful thump on the back when he momentarily choked on his salad. “I didn’t know there was a meeting scheduled for tomorrow,” Adam said hoarsely.
“There are a lot of details to arrange and you’re only here on weekends,” Janine told him sweetly. “The six other speakers are coming and we’ll be going over the plans for next week.”
“Sorry, Janine, I’m booked for tomorrow, why don’t –”
“What could possibly be more important than Daddy’s party,” she inquired coldly, her eyes narrowing to hazel slits as they focused on Samantha.
“Janine’s right, Adam,” Samantha ignored his annoyed expression. She winked and sent him a silent warning to adjust his attitude. “With your schedule it’s difficult to get everybody together.”
Janine was decidedly startled by Samantha’s cooperation and Adam had no alternative but to reluctantly capitulate. The rest of the evening was a pleasant mix of dancing, lighthearted conversations, numerous champagne toasts, and heartfelt good wishes for the happy couple.
It was after midnight when the Jaguar crunched to a halt in front of the lake cottage. “I think you’ve had a little too much champagne, Sleeping Beauty,” Adam teased softly, his hand gently brushing back a blond curl.
“Don’t be silly,” she mumbled sleepily, her head comfortably against his shoulder. “If that were true, my big toe would be numb, and it isn’t. So, I’m fine.”
“Your big toe?”
“You probably have no idea how important a big toe is, do you? It’s right up there with opposable thumbs.” She felt his shoulder shake with suppressed laughter.
“Really? You’re right. I’m afraid I don’t. Where’s your house key?”
“Third pot of mums on the left,” she yawned sleepily, settling back into the comfort
of the leather seat. Samantha gave a resigned sigh when he returned for her a few minutes later.
“Can you manage?” He slid a protective arm around her waist as they mounted the porch steps.
“Of course I can,” she told him indignantly. “I’m so glad everything went well for the judge and Katherine tonight.”
“But not so well for us,” Adam grumbled. “Our plans for tomorrow are shot.”
“No, how long can brunch take? You’ll probably be back here by late afternoon; we can still have a nice quiet dinner.”
He brightened considerably. “Just remember, do not do anything stupid with a ladder and storm windows.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll do them from the inside only. I’ve got to keep studying for two exams. I may take a break and go shopping for something to wear to the testimonial. Just be sure you behave yourself tomorrow,” she teased lightly. “Janine still has her eye on you!”
“I’m afraid she’s out of luck. I have my eye on someone else.” He turned her into his arms and kissed her very thoroughly.
“What on earth are you doing here?” Samantha stood in the open doorway, with a red oven mitt on each hand.
“It’s nine o’clock,” Adam grunted, pushing the front door shut. “Do you always open the door without checking? I could have been Jack the Ripper!”
Samantha raised her eyebrows, studying his moody features. “No chance, Jack just left but I see Mr. Hyde has arrived,” she tilted her head and grinned. “Besides, you should be proud of me, I had the door locked.” Hearing another grunt, she framed his face with the oven mitts, patting his cheeks. “Attitude adjustment, honey muffin.” Samantha winked and pressed her lips against his. “Gotta’ go, Beethoven’s Fifth!” She twisted away and sprinted for the kitchen.
“Beethoven’s Fifth is your oven timer?” Adam tossed his leather jacket on the rocker and followed her.
“Yup, been cooking and studying to Bee Gees day on the radio with Beethoven reminding me to check the oven.”
“Wow, it smells like heaven in here.” He sniffed appreciatively. “What are you baking?”
