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Third Time's the Bride!

Page 11

by Merline Lovelace


  “They probably won’t bang as much now that we’ve accomplished our immediate objective.”

  “You think you’ve accomplished it. I still want visual proof.”

  Callie echoed that sentiment when she returned from Kate’s office. After confirming that Russo could retrieve the email from her server, she said they could go ahead and read Travis and Brian into the situation.

  “But Joe says to tell them not to go all cowboy. He’s working on the problem. He also says I shouldn’t worry.” She forced a bright smile. “So let’s head for the bathroom and find out if we’re really having a baby. Then we’ll talk details for Dawn’s third—and final!—wedding.”

  * * *

  After ninety breathless seconds, the pink stick turned a deep, glowing purple. Whoops and hugs and happy dances led to the serious business of baby names. Kate wouldn’t budge on Travis Jr. for a boy, but finally settled on Venetia Dawn Calissa Westbrook for a girl.

  “The first name for where she was conceived,” she said happily, “and the middle names for her godmothers-to-be.”

  “You’d better count backward,” Dawn drawled, “and make sure you didn’t get pregnant in Bologna.”

  “It was Venice! And even if it wasn’t, I’ll insist it was. There, that’s settled. Time to shift focus. Let’s talk about you. Have you thought at all about when, where and how you want to become Mrs. Tommy’s Mom?”

  “Sort of. Brian would prefer sooner rather than later, and I guess I don’t see any real need to delay.”

  “You guess?”

  Kate threw a quick glance at Callie before repeating her earlier question.

  “Are you sure about this? Do you really want to take on being a wife and mother at the same time?”

  “It’s a package deal. And yes, I do.”

  The moment Dawn uttered the words, an absolute certainty settled around her heart. She did. She really, truly, honestly did want to take both on. The sooner the better.

  “When does Travis get back from Florida?” she asked Kate.

  “The end of next week. He’s supposed to start at EAS on October first.”

  “Okay!” Thumbing her iPhone to life, Dawn tapped the calendar icon. “The first is a Wednesday. We could do this on the following Saturday, the eleventh. I’ll talk to Brian when I get home and see if that day works for him. In the meantime, I’ll zip up to Boston and...”

  “Dawn! You’re talking a little more than two weeks from now! We’ll be hard put to find a venue on such short notice, much less line up a caterer and photographer and...”

  “Paying for the last ‘venue’ pretty well wiped out my bank account. No, I’m thinking...”

  The perfect setting popped into her mind.

  “I’m thinking Brian’s backyard. A small, intimate ceremony attended only by our family and close friends.”

  She could envision the scene and knew instantly it was exactly right.

  “All we’ll need are some folding chairs and fall flowers to decorate the gazebo. And a caterer and photographer, I suppose.”

  Brian could take care of the officiating dignitary. Hopefully, the minister at the church he and Tommy attended could squeeze them in. If not, they’d have to find an alternate.

  That left Dawn facing only one major challenge. “You guys have to help me shop for a wedding gown.” She gulped, remembering her previous, ridiculously expensive purchases, both of which she’d donated to a charity that recycled gowns to women in need. “Maybe I should go with a tea dress. Or an ivory pants suit. Or pearl-studded jeans.”

  “Pearl-studded jeans may be the latest thing,” Kate countered with a huff, “but they’re not you. Don’t worry—we’ll find the perfect fashion statement.”

  * * *

  Dawn drove back to Bethesda an hour later. As she wheeled through the star-studded September night, she refused to give way to panic.

  Okay. All right. She’d done it again. Jumped feetfirst into plans for another wedding. In a deliberate attempt to ease Callie’s distress over those emails, she’d nailed down the date for her third attempt to stroll down the aisle.

  “Third time’s a charm,” she chanted grimly, her knuckles white where she gripped the wheel. “Third time’s a charm.”

  Chapter Nine

  Feet up, a cold brew on the table beside the sofa, Brian half watched the news as he waited for Dawn to return from her girls’ night out. She’d called to let him know she was on her way. Despite the time, he figured they could get in at least an hour or two of quality time before they called it a night and went to bed.

  Their separate beds. He was finding that part of their agreement tough to stick to. So tough, he had to deliver a swift mental kick whenever the insidious idea of activating the motion sensors on the stairs sneaked back into his thoughts.

  Like now. His belly tightening, he pictured his soon-to-be-bride sprawled in naked abandon on the sofa. Or on the carpet. Or any horizontal surface. He could see her rose-tipped nipples, the fiery patch at the apex of her thighs, the creamy skin of her...

  The faint rumble of the garage door going up did nothing to loosen the kink in his gut. Anticipation firing his every piston, he pushed to his feet and met her as she entered the kitchen. One look at her frown instantly erased all thoughts of quality time.

  “What’s wrong? Didn’t the stick turn turquoise or pink or whatever color it’s supposed to?”

  “Purple,” she said, distracted. “Yes, it did.”

  As she unbuttoned her jacket, another explanation for the frown hit him.

  “Are Kate and Callie worried about you hooking up with Tommy and me permanently?” he asked. “I can understand if they are. We’re a pretty tough twosome to—”

  “No! Well, a little,” she admitted with a shrug. “But they helped me settle on a date for the ceremony. Saturday, the fourth, if that works with your schedule.”

  What the hell? Given her track record, Brian hadn’t expected his bride to go all starry-eyed and giddy over their wedding. Still, this underwhelming response ticked him off a little.

  “The fourth of what month, if you don’t mind me asking.”

  The sarcasm went right over her head.

  “October. Callie’s been getting threats, Brian.”

  “Come again?”

  “Someone’s sending her nasty emails. Very nasty emails.”

  Brian bit out an oath. “Sit down,” he ordered. “I’ll make coffee while you give me the details.”

  “I don’t know many.” Her forehead still creased, she slid onto one of the counter stools. “Just that Callie started getting threats a few months ago. She thinks they may be coming from a parent or guardian of one of the children she stood up for in court.”

  “Did she report them to the police? Her supervisor at work?”

  “Yes to both. She also told Joe Russo about them.”

  “Joe? Good!”

  “Callie opened up to him in Rome. Can you believe it? She told him before she told Kate or me.”

  “Damn straight, I can believe it.” Brian dumped a scoopful of coffee into the filter, shoved down the lid and hit the on button. “Russo doesn’t say much, but I can tell you he’s the best I’ve ever encountered in his line of business. I would guess he’s good at extracting information.”

  One way or another.

  “What’s Joe done about the emails?”

  “Callie said he’s working with Boston Cyber Crimes Unit.”

  “I’ll call him. Make sure he’s getting the cooperation he needs. If not, I may be able to help.”

  While the coffeemaker gurgled and the scent of fresh-brewed French roast filled the kitchen, Brian ran down a quick mental list of sources to tap. He rarely threw his weight around or found it necessary to call in favors. Busin
ess was business, however, and he’d contributed to the war chests of more than one politician. If Joe had hit any brick walls in investigating the emails, Brian could help kick them down.

  And not just because of the gratitude that now filled Dawn’s eyes. He liked Callie. He hadn’t spent all that much time with her, but in the few conversations they’d shared she’d impressed him with her quick mind and unruffled calm. Although from the sound of things, that placid demeanor might well have been a front. Dawn’s next comment pretty much confirmed that.

  “Kate thinks these threats could be the reason Callie extended her stay in DC. She may be afraid to go back to Boston until they nail the bastard who’s sending the threats. And we don’t want her to! So...”

  He filled two mugs and passed her one. “So?”

  “When Travis flies back from Florida next week, Kate’s condo will get crowded. We thought... I thought we could invite her to stay at the gatehouse.”

  Which Dawn wouldn’t be occupying once she and Brian married. Was that why she’d opted for such a quick wedding? So she could move in with him and let Callie have the gatehouse?

  Hell, who cared? At this point Brian would grab any excuse to finesse this woman into his bed. Not just his bed, he realized as his gaze roamed her face. He wanted her in his life. His and Tommy’s. He wanted more kids, too. Sons or daughters with Dawn’s fun-loving spirit and ready laugh.

  The thought hooked in his rib cage like a barb. They hadn’t discussed having kids. Hadn’t discussed much of anything except marriage as a solution to an immediate problem. Brian knew what he was getting out of the bargain, but wasn’t sure what Dawn was, except maybe the stable home and family she hadn’t had growing up. He’d give her that, Brian swore fiercely, and anything else she needed or wanted. Starting with this simple request.

  “By all means, invite Callie to stay here. There’s plenty of room in the gatehouse. Even more after the second weekend in October.”

  He hesitated, needing to be sure she wanted to make this happen so quickly.

  “You don’t need more time to line things up?”

  “No. It takes me a while sometimes,” she said ruefully, “but I do learn from past mistakes. I want to keep this simple, Brian. I thought maybe a ceremony in the garden, with just our families and close friends.”

  “That works for me, if that’s what you really want.”

  “It is.” Warming to the subject, she shared more of her hastily formed plans. “Kate and Callie will help, of course. And if you don’t think Mrs. Jones would mind, I thought I’d ask her advice about caterers and maybe a photographer.”

  “LauraBeth would love it if you included her. She and her husband raised four boys. She’s told me more than once that the mother-of-the-groom doesn’t have nearly as much fun as the mother-of-the-bride.” He knew he was skirting dangerous ground but had to ask, “What about your mom? We could fly her in to help, too.”

  “Lord, no!” She didn’t bother to repress a shudder. “We’ll have to invite her to the ceremony. Both my parents. I want them there, I really do. But we might need to hire Joe Russo’s bodyguards to keep one of them from stabbing the other with the cake knife.”

  “It was that bad, huh?”

  “Was, and still is.”

  She lowered her glance to her coffee mug. When she lifted it again, both her expression and her voice were brisk.

  “You’re in charge of lining up a minister, fella.”

  “I can handle that. Also the honeymoon.”

  “We don’t have to go anywhere. Not right away.”

  “Sure we do.”

  “What about school? Tommy really shouldn’t miss many days this early in the year.”

  “I love my son but I don’t intend to invite him along on our honeymoon.”

  “But—”

  He stopped her protest with a finger laid over her lips. “I want you to myself for a few days, Dawn. All to myself.”

  “Well,” she said a little breathlessly when he took his hand away, “since you put it that way. And,” she added as the idea took hold, “if Callie’s here I know she wouldn’t mind looking after Tommy for a few days.”

  “If she can’t, I’ll ask my folks to stay with him. There, that’s solved. Next issue. What time tomorrow can you meet me so we can pick out a ring?”

  She answered quickly. Too quickly. “All I want is a plain gold band. Nothing fancy.”

  Christ! Between her warring parents and those two abortive engagements, she’d gone through the marriage wringer.

  “A plain gold band it is. But I’m allowing no restrictions on a wedding present. I intend to get you something special. Something you’ll—”

  “A puppy.”

  “What?”

  “I want a puppy for a wedding present. One that doesn’t shed, so we don’t have to worry about Tommy’s allergies.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’ve been thinking about getting him one since we had that discussion about FDR’s dog, Fala.”

  “We just broke the news to him a few hours ago that he’s getting a new mom. You don’t think we should wait a while to introduce a puppy into the mix?”

  “Nope. This is the perfect time to make it happen. The dog could be our present to Tommy, Brian. Yours and mine. Besides,” she added slyly, “with a pet to keep him busy, he won’t even notice when we take off on a honeymoon.”

  “Damn, woman, you’re devious. I could use you on my contracts negotiating team.”

  “Just say the word, big guy. In the meantime, though, you’ll give this some serious thought?”

  “I guess.”

  “It’ll be fun once we get past the piddles and chewed-up sneakers.” Her eyes alight with laughter, she slid off her stool and hooked her arms around his neck. “Let’s have a little more enthusiasm here.”

  “Well, if you insist.”

  He cradled her hips with his palms, drawing her closer, marveling at the way she fit against him. He felt the rightness of it down to his bones. The basic, instinctive pleasure of matching male to female. Mate to mate. Husband to...

  The thought brought him up short. Whoa! When had he stopped viewing this marriage as a contract? And when did he intend to communicate his altered perspective to Dawn?

  Now, he decided as his body hardened against hers. Right this friggin’ minute.

  “I need to tell you something.” He brought up his hands and framed her face. “I’m crazy in love with you.”

  Her lips parted in breathless surprise. “Since when?”

  “Damned if I know. I suspected it when I saw you and Tommy turning cartwheels. Then just now, when you dropped this puppy thing on me, I realized I’d bring home a hundred and one Dalmatians if that’s what you wanted.”

  “One will do. Just one, and you and Tommy. That’s all I want. That’s everything I want.”

  * * *

  The next morning Dawn called Callie right after dropping Tommy off at school to invite her to move into the gatehouse. She also reported the gist of Brian’s late-night conversation with Joe Russo.

  “Joe says they’re close to pinpointing the source of the emails. Until they do, though, he thinks it’s a good idea for you to stay in DC.”

  “Well...”

  “I’m meeting Brian for lunch, then we’re going to shop for rings. Why don’t I come by afterward and help you pack?”

  “There’s not much to pack. Just what I took to Italy and the few things I bought here.”

  “I’m in the same boat, but I’m flying up to Boston this weekend to retrieve more clothes and my car.”

  And arrange temporary storage for the rest of her belongings. And talk to a rental agency about leasing her condo. And break the news of a permanent change of address to her boss. And meet wi
th her team to discuss ongoing projects. And deliver wedding invitations to the small circle of friends she wanted at her wedding. And...

  “How long do you plan to stay?” Callie wanted to know.

  “Two days. Three max. If you make a list of what you want, I’ll swing by your place and bring it back with me.”

  “I have a better idea. How about we both fly up to Boston and I’ll help you pack? Then we could hook your sporty little Mustang to a U-Haul and drive back down to DC together.”

  “Deal! As long as we stay at my condo. No sense letting the creep who sent those emails know you’re in town. I’ll go online right now to get us seats on the shuttle.”

  She made the reservations, then switched to her favorite design applications. Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop and InDesign all offered hundreds of templates for birthday invitations, funeral programs, birth announcements, home decor and senior yearbooks. After skimming a mind-numbing selection of wedding invitation templates, she decided to design her own.

  Grabbing her iPhone, she went outside and snapped a dozen photos of the white-painted gazebo. It took her all of five seconds to AirDrop the photos to her MacBook, and not many more to select the best shot.

  Twenty minutes later, she’d extracted the pattern of the gazebo’s filigree trim, interwove a weathered grapevine dripping fall colors and softened the image to a creative blur. She then replicated it three times and merged the four images to form a delicate, romantic frame. Now all she had to do was insert the time and place of the wedding and a few lines to capture the sentiments involved.

  She stared at the empty frame, her thoughts churning. She loved Brian. She could admit that now, without hesitation or doubt. And Tommy... She couldn’t wait to see his face when he opened his wedding present. A smile pulled at her lips as she envisioned the two of them diving into piles of leaves with a frolicking puppy. Making angels in the snow. Battling each other in life-and-death sessions of Garden Warfare.

 

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