Gram flushed. “Well, Kaitlin and I bought my dress the other night.”
“It’s beautiful. Really beautiful,” Kaitlin said, smiling at Al.
“And simple. Like our ceremony will be. Some of the family will be coming, and a few close friends,” Gram said. She and Al smiled at one another, and Kaitlin felt her heart warming.
“Well,” Joe teased, “it sounds like a wild fling to me!”
“A marriage is always a wild fling,” Al said, his eyes on Gram. “But as for the wedding…”
“I had my big wedding,” Gram said softly. “When I married Granda. We had nothing in Dublin, really nothing at’ all. But me mum made me gown, and me sisters sewed the pearls onto the train. And Da’s best friend was a butcher, so he gave us a grand reception out in the yard. It was a great wedding, though, a wonderful wedding. Like the kind Barb and Joe will have. And that’s good, Al, eh? But not for us. It’s the marriage that matters.”
“Your wedding will be beautiful, Gram,” Barbara assured her.
Brendan reached across the table for the red wine and poured a small portion into his glass. “But I agree with Liz,” he said softly. “It’s not the wedding but the marriage that counts.”
He was looking at Kaitlin, and she wanted to slap him. She had wanted a big wedding, sure. But she had loved him. Really loved him with her whole heart. When they had been married in the midst of all the chaos, she had wanted it to last forever.
He was the one who hadn’t wanted her when it came down to it.
She turned away from him coldly. “Well, here’s to Gram and Al! May you live long and happily. Al, we’re pleased to have you with us!”
“Here, here!” Joe said.
They all raised their glasses, and Gram and Al were duly toasted. Then Joe told them how hard it had been to get the church date he had wanted, and Barbara watched him with a soft smile. Kaitlin was still amazed that Joe had made the arrangements with the church.
“We need to go out looking for dresses,” Kaitlin reminded her.
“Yes! How about this week?”
“Sure.”
“How’s your Wednesday night?”
“It’s fine—” she began, then she felt Brendan watching her. How could she have forgotten? “Wednesday is bad for me,” she said sweetly. “Tuesday?”
“How about Thursday?”
“Fine. I need something to wear for Gram and Al’s wedding, so we can look for that at the same time.”
“Sounds great,” Barbara said. “I’m going to have to look pretty hard. I need something that’s already in.”
“Why can’t you just order what you want?” Joe asked her.
She glanced at Kaitlin, shaking her head impatiently. “It can take a full year for a dress to be ordered and come in. There’s usually a minimum of three to four months. I don’t want to worry. I know there’s something really beautiful out there, and I can just have it altered. Right, Kaitlin?”
Kaitlin nodded. Barbara poured more wine. “Of course, you do have to be careful. They’ve been having the strangest problem in Massachusetts. Donna was telling me about it the other day. There’s a group of wedding bandits stealing shipments of gowns. Can you imagine?”
“Stealing wedding gowns?” Brendan said. “What for?”
“They change the labels and sell them in the South and out in the West. Lots of women want to buy gowns more quickly than they can be specially made. It’s quite a racket, I understand.”
“Well, if we’re buying a gown to be altered,” Kaitlin said, “at least we shouldn’t have to worry. We’ll find the gown if it takes all week, buy it and get a seamstress working on it right away.”
Barbara had finished her meal, so she pushed back her chair and picked up her plate. She dusted a kiss on Gram’s hair. “Not all week,” she said with a soft smile. “Don’t forget, we have plans for Saturday.”
“Saturday. So close,” Gram breathed.
“You can’t be nervous!” Kaitlin told her.
“Not too nervous, I hope!” Al Rosen said.
They all laughed, and Kaitlin stood with Barbara to start picking up the dishes. She was dismayed to realize that she was swaying a little. She steadied herself on the chair and was certain that no one had caught her unintended movement.
Except for Brendan. He was watching her. Disapprovingly, she was certain.
Well, what and when she chose to drink was none of his affair.
“I’ll help clear,” Gram said.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Kaitlin told her. “You sit with Al, and we’ll have cake and coffee coming right out.”
She turned and carefully carried her collection of plates into the kitchen. She turned, expecting to find Barb behind her.
Brendan was there instead. He set a stack of dishes on the counter. “Want me to take the cake out?”
“I can take it out.”
“I’d love to do it for you.”
“You think that I’ve been—”
“Drinking too much champagne, yes. But hey, it’s your house, your party. I just thought you might want someone else to carry the cake.”
She plugged in the coffeepot. “Carry the cake, then. Make yourself happy.”
He went out with it. Then Barb appeared with the last of the dishes, her eyes sparkling. “Well?”
“Well what? Oh, Mr. Rosen! I think he’s charming. And he loves Gram, which is all that really matters, isn’t it?”
“I’m not talking about Al! He is great. We liked him from the moment we met him—Joe and I. But what else would you expect from Gram other than a super guy?”
“Right,” Kaitlin agreed, pulling out her best cups and saucers and cake plates. Then she paused and looked at Barb. “So what were you talking about?”
“You and Brendan.”
Kaitlin stared at the coffee cups. “Brendan and me? We’re adults. We’ll manage.”
“You’ll manage?” Barbara said. “That’s all?”
Kaitlin swung around and looked at her cousin. “Of course. You want me to be a bridesmaid, and I will. Even if Brendan’s going to be there, too. Joe and Brendan have apparently seen a lot more of one another over the years than I realized. Maybe I should have known, though. After all, Joe did find him for me when I wanted to talk to him several years ago.”
There must have been a trace of bitterness in her voice, because Barbara sighed. “And he wouldn’t agree to have the marriage annulled. I’m sorry, Kaitlin, we both thought that if you just talked to him…well, Joe managed to get one very easily. And I did want to be married in the church. Not that it really matters. Married is married, just like Al said. The wedding goes by so quickly! But then you have the memories all your life. Kaitlin, I’ve waited so long! I do want a big wedding. I want a million people, and I want to be beautiful!”
Kaitlin smiled, then hugged her. “Joe wants you to have it all. It took him a while to come around, I’ll grant you. But he seems to want it all to be perfect now.”
Barbara nodded happily. “Just like you originally planned, before you and Brendan had that awful fight over that guy you were seeing.” She paused, then gasped in horror. “Oh! I’m sorry, Kaitlin, I—”
“I wasn’t seeing another guy,” Kaitlin said wearily. “I told you that—”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry! But that’s what Brendan thought, wasn’t it?”
“I guess. Barbara, it doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past.”
“Oh, Kaitlin! I’m just so grateful to you both! It’s so important for me to have you, and so important to Joe to have Brendan, too. And you’ve both been wonderful, trying to make it all just right for us.”
“No problem,” Kaitlin said, then turned away. The coffee was ready.
“I’ll take out the cups,” Barbara said. As she headed for the door she called back, “Joe put the liqueurs and the whiskey out. Did you get whipped cream? It’s a great night for Irish coffee!”
“It sure is,” Kaitlin agreed. She o
pened the refrigerator and found whipped cream. When she closed the door and turned again, Brendan was in the kitchen. Watching her.
“Want some help?” he asked. His gaze was fathomless, wandering up and down the length of her, then meeting her eyes.
She smiled. Sweetly. Defiantly. “Yes, please. Grab the cream and sugar and the coffeepot.”
He did, still watching her as she sailed past him with the whipped cream.
The cake was wonderful, and Irish coffee went with it just right. Kaitlin had two cups.
Gram talked about her reception, and Barbara and Joe sat with their fingers entwined atop the table, listening, silently planning their own wedding. Kaitlin was surprised—then guilt-stricken—to find that her parents were coming down for the wedding. They would be arriving at the airport Friday afternoon.
“I said you’d pick them up, Kaitlin. Your mother will verify times with you sometime this week,” Gram said.
“Of course,” Kaitlin murmured.
Brendan, and now her parents. What more could she ask for? Oh, she loved her parents dearly, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be with them and Brendan in the same room, and she was certain that Gram had already invited Brendan to the wedding.
It didn’t really matter, she decided. The champagne was curling around the whiskey in the Irish coffee. Or maybe the whiskey was curling around the champagne. It was going to be all right. Even if Brendan was at her dining room table, still staring at her. She smiled at him. He really did have those wonderful Irish good looks, with his ebony hair and beautiful green eyes, just sparked by those touches of gold. She wondered if life might not have been incredibly easier if she hadn’t fallen so hard for him so long ago. It still seemed impossible that he was sitting in her dining room. And that she could smile so easily as he sat there!
Kaitlin realized then that Barbara had picked up most of the dishes, and Joe was standing behind her, saying that they had to leave.
Gram and Mr. Rosen were standing, too, and Brendan with them. She stood, and she wasn’t sure if she swayed, or if she just thought that she did. At least she was still speaking rationally and coherently; she was certain of that.
But when she touched her lips, she had to press hard to make sure they were still there.
She ignored the feeling to smile and kiss Gram and Barbara and Joe goodbye, then she shook Al Rosen’s hand. Then they were gone, and when she turned, she realized that Brendan was still in the house.
She didn’t say anything. She just leaned against the door, watching him.
“Want me to leave?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m not sure.”
“Um,” he murmured. His lashes seemed inky black, shielding his eyes. “Why don’t you sit down in the living room? I’ll pick up the rest of the dishes.”
“There’s a dishwasher.”
“I know. I saw it. Do you want me to brew another pot of coffee?”
“I think I’ve had enough coffee.”
“I think you’ve had enough Irish coffee. You might just need some of the strong black stuff.”
His hand was on her arm, and he was leading her to the living room couch. She sat, and he slipped off her shoes. She felt his fingers against the arch of her foot, and she stared into his eyes.
She smiled. “Do you know, Brendan, you’re still extraordinarily good-looking.”
“Am I? Thank you.” He shoved her back until she was leaning against the overstuffed arm of the chesterfield. Her eyes were very wide, her smile sweet, and her hair fell like Rapunzel’s, in long, soft tresses and waves. His eyes caught hers. “And you’re still extraordinarily beautiful, Kaitlin. But then, you know that, don’t you?”
“I’m getting old, Brendan.”
“All of thirty.”
She shook her head. “It’s young if you’ve done something with your life. I haven’t really done anything with mine.”
“You’ve done lots with your life. You’ve got a great business. You’re bright, creative, talented. You’ve succeeded. That meant an awful lot to you between the ages of twenty and twenty-two.”
She stared at him searchingly. “I didn’t think you noticed anything I was feeling in those years,” she said lightly.
He sighed. “Kaitlin…Never mind. I’m going to make coffee and finish your dishes.”
“You don’t have to. I can do them in the morning.”
“Kaitlin, you’re going to have a horrible headache in the morning. You’re going to wish that someone would come along and shoot you.”
She closed her eyes, vaguely aware that he was right. “It’s all your fault.”
“What’s my fault?”
“The champagne. I inhaled it because you walked in.”
She didn’t see his crooked smile as he walked away. She winced slightly, aware that he had been right. She couldn’t drink champagne. She’d never been able to. And she’d already suffered one wretched hangover this week. Now she was going to have another.
The room was heaving. Her eyes were closed, but the room was heaving. Like an ocean, undulating around her. She could feel her foot where he had touched her. Just her foot.
When they’d filmed the commercial, he’d touched a lot more than her foot. And she had felt that, too….
But tonight, despite her intoxicated state, she was feeling more. She was seeing more. She’d never heard his voice quite so clearly, felt it dance along her spine so seductively.
She liked it. She felt caressed by it, beguiled by it. She thought about the other day on the beach. She had wanted to touch his chest, to feel the thick, dark hair that grew there in such a fascinating pattern.
She wanted to curl against him. She wanted to taste his kiss.
She wanted to do more than that.
Something moved over her cheek. He was sitting beside her, stroking her face lightly with his knuckles. She smiled. She had dreamed him, and he had appeared.
“Hi,” she murmured.
“Hi. The coffee is done.”
“Great.” She couldn’t stop smiling as she caught his hand and inspected it. She liked the broad back with its slight spattering of freckles. She liked his fingers, too. They were rugged hands, but handsome. Masculine hands. And when they touched her…
“I think I should just put you to bed,” he said huskily.
She smiled. “Are you coming with me?”
He swore softly. “Damn it, Kaitlin, don’t do this to me.”
“That’s right,” she said huskily. “You said you weren’t going to seduce me.”
“Right.”
“That’s so honorable of you, Brendan.”
He sighed. “Kaitlin, you may not believe this, but I was always trying to do the honorable thing. I’ve never known how to explain the way I felt after Sean died. I know that I was at fault, and I have no excuse. I can only apologize.”
Tears were coming to her eyes. She didn’t want to get weepy. She was feeling so content and peaceful, so delicious and peaceful….
And hungry.
She set his hand against her cheek and closed her eyes. “I loved Sean, too, you know,” she said softly. “Not the way you did, of course. I understood. I really did.” Her eyes flew open, and she smiled. “Brendan, did I tell you that you’ve aged well?”
“Just like fine wine,” he returned with a grin.
She sat up, curled her arms around his neck and met his gaze. She studied his eyes. And then it seemed too hard to resist, and she pulled him close to her. She had wanted to do it all day when they were filming.
She kissed him.
At first he stiffened, his mouth closed. But when she teased his lips with the tip of her tongue, prodding slightly, he gave in to her. He opened his mouth and seemed to consume her. Hot, sweet, searing, his tongue plunged deeply into her mouth, where it met and dueled with her own. When he broke the kiss it was only to press his lips against her ear, laving it, then the pulse at the base of her throat, tasting and feeling and savoring. Then his mouth fused
with hers once again.
This was the kiss they had known before, only deeper, hungrier. More demanding and more giving. Her body trembled and shook. She moved her fingers into his hair, to touch and explore. Then she allowed her nails to trail down his back, her fingers tugging at his shirt, freeing it from his waistband so she could touch his hot flesh. She moved her hands from his back around to his chest and allowed her fingers to tease the crisp black mat that had so fascinated her the other day.
His mouth lifted from hers. “Kaitlin, I’m warning you…”
She found his lips again and pulled him down. The little pearl buttons on her white silk blouse were giving, melting away. His hands were on her, hefting the weight of her breasts, teasing them through her bra. And then he was freeing her flesh from its restraint. His palms moved over her nipples, and then his dark head lowered against her, and he was tasting her, filling his mouth with the hardness of one nipple, with the soft flesh and supple firmness of her breast. And she was clinging to him, soft gasps escaping her as she held him close.
His head rose, hair tousled, his look sensual. He lifted her, cast aside the blouse and the bra and laid her back, his eyes studying and devouring her. She wanted him so badly. And she loved the way he looked at her. Just like he had before…
“What you’re doing to me should be illegal,” he whispered to her raggedly. “Punishable by death.”
She smiled and tried to reach for him. Her fingers caressed his tousled hair; then her arms fell to her sides.
He rose and lifted her into his arms. He moved down the hallway to her bedroom, where he carried her into the darkness and laid her down, tearing at the covers as he did so.
“Brendan!” she whispered.
His hands were on the zipper of her skirt. She could feel his touch against her bare flesh, and it was delicious. In the shadows she could see his eyes, could see the passion and determination within them, and she smiled again. He was with her, holding her.
“We should have made it,” she told him vaguely. “We came from the same background, the same religion, the same ideals, the same desires. And I loved you so much. What happened to us, Brendan?”
Her breath was soft against his cheek. Her body was supple and liquid and beautiful, offering all the torments of hell and all the raptures of heaven.
Wedding Bell Blues Page 8
