Love, Alabama (Alabama Series Book 2)

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Love, Alabama (Alabama Series Book 2) Page 14

by Susan Sands


  Emma laughed. “Crusty? You make it sound like she has an STD.”

  “No. I don’t think she’s the promiscuous type, only very hard to get to know, for anyone. She does her job well, is very talented, and has an eye for style, but leaves at the end of the day, doesn’t hang out or join the crew for a beer, from what I hear.”

  “From what you hear? You don’t join them either?” Emma eyed him speculatively.

  “I’m the boss, so not usually.”

  “Maybe you should, it might help your crew get to know you and make for good morale.”

  “We can talk about this later, can’t we? You have a reception to attend, and it’s my responsibility to get you there.”

  “Nice dodge of the question, slick.”

  “You do look hot, you know,” he said, crowding her space a little more.

  “You’re not so bad yourself. I like a man in a tux.” She straightened his tie and turned on her heels for him to follow.

  *

  The band was cranked up by the time they’d all arrived and the two largest entertaining “ballrooms” were combined into one, with the French doors that lined the lawn opened to the mild evening. Twinkling lights were strung everywhere above what seemed like a hundred tables bearing cream, linen tablecloths, adorned with more lily and rose centerpieces. The flowers had been whisked like magic from the church and served as decor at the reception as well. It was dark now, with the stage for the band set up outdoors and a dance floor in front of the musicians.

  It was a perfect setting to celebrate what had thus far been a perfect wedding. Emma could forgive her date for his distraction during the ceremony. After all, she’d definitely done the same during weddings in the past.

  As Emma took inventory of the guests, she couldn’t help the tiny fissure of worry that crept in. She’d tried really hard to ignore Tad’s intense stare during the wedding as he’d sat beside his loving wife. It was an owning kind of gaze he’d directed toward her. Like a finely woven but invisible net she’d tried mentally to escape from, but couldn’t quite break free.

  When he’d turned to leave the church, he’d winked at her. No one else had noticed, she was sure, but it made her heart sink. Something about that stare and that wink promised trouble.

  Matthew had excused himself briefly to get them a drink, while she made certain everything was as it should be. There was a staff on hand for that, plus the wedding facilitator to make certain things ran smoothly but Emma had been part of this business for so long, and, since it was her mother’s big shindig, she felt the need to be sure all was well.

  “They’re about to introduce the happy couple, so we’re all gathering at the family table.” Ben had come up beside her. “Where’s your date?” he asked.

  “He’s getting us a drink.”

  “Good idea. When he gets back, y’all come join us.” Ben strode toward the opened doors. Emma was just outside, inhaling the fresh air.

  Fingertips grazed her shoulder. “You are radiant this evening, Emma.” Her skin seized and she made a monumental effort not to physically recoil.

  People would be watching. Anytime the two of them had interaction, folks noticed. Tad smiled his big, fat lizard smile.

  “Thank you. I’m waiting for Matthew to bring my drink.”

  “Matthew again, huh? You two are getting pretty cozy, aren’t you?”

  “What if we are?” she asked. “Why are you even making a comment about my love life?”

  “I told you the other day; I care about you. We have a history.” He quirked up the corner of his mouth. “I really don’t think he’s the guy for you.”

  “Who, me?” Matthew had approached.

  And he stood very close to Emma, having slid an arm around her waist. He was just enough taller than Tad to be intimidating in size. Matthew was lean but so very muscular and fit and gorgeous that almost any guy would find himself backing down given the situation. But this was Tad. Tad believed himself comparable to a god of sorts. True narcissists were like that, she’d discovered.

  Tad was as confident as he was predictable. And the crowd, it appeared, had hushed a bit and was watching to see what might transpire. The two men were standing almost toe-to-toe at this point.

  True to form, Tad stuck out the mayoral hand, “Matthew, my friend, great to see you. I was just telling Emma how stunning she looked this evening.”

  Matthew’s eyes glittered a warning and sent a chill through Emma. This could mean trouble. “She is stunning, isn’t she? Did I hear you tell her I wasn’t the right guy for her?”

  Tad had the grace to blanch and look slightly embarrassed then at being actually called out on his own words. “I’m only looking out for her best interests, you know? I mean, she might get attached and you’ll have to go back to New York, then where does that leave her? So, no, you’re not a good bet, are you?”

  “Why don’t you let Emma, and me, for that matter, decide how this thing between us is going to turn out.” Matthew leaned slightly toward Tad and whispered something in his ear.

  Whatever Matthew said caused Tad’s normally congenial expression to completely lose its composure. His face became an extremely unattractive mottled reddish-purple, which made it impossible to hide his obvious rage. Tad shot Emma a glare of pure disgust and stalked off.

  She asked Matthew, “Oh, my God; what did you say to him? I’ve never seen him react like that.”

  Matthew’s expression was one of pure satisfaction, the total opposite of Tad’s. It was a winner’s gloat. “I have to apologize, Emma. He pushed me to give him the old, ‘So far, so good with Emma, if you know what I mean.’”

  She inhaled; shocked that he would gloat to Tad, of all people. “Are you kidding? You bragged about our sleeping together?” She didn’t know how to feel.

  He appeared sorry then. “Look, I don’t know what’s with this guy. Why he thinks you’re his concern or his property, but the only way to get him to back off is to behave like the bigger asshole. I apologize for that, I do. But I’ve known guys like him. It’s a pissing contest, or more like measuring shoe size, if you know what I mean.”

  Then, she understood. Of all the things that would shut Tad up, that would. It would also make things infernally worse. For whatever reason that made zero sense, Tad obviously still saw Emma as his property, and as such, wanted to keep her from getting seriously involved with anyone else. The whole idea made her head spin. Now, when she looked back, several things she’d chosen to ignore over the years made more sense when viewing through this new more informed lens.

  Before Emma was able to give this anymore thought, the drumroll sounded indicating the newlyweds were entering the party.

  “Oh, that’s our signal to join my family at the table. We need to hurry.” Emma hustled them over where the rest of the Laroux family was assembled.

  This was mostly an adult wedding, since it would extend later into the evening, even though it was a Sunday. So, the younger ones in the wedding party were taken upstairs to be looked after by the older ones. This included the youngsters in Rose’s family.

  “Where were you two?” Cammie asked above the noise of the crowd.

  “Matthew had a face-off with Tad a couple minutes ago.” Emma had to nearly yell.

  It was too loud to carry on a real conversation. And they were cut short as Mom and Howard were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. Howard Jessup. The applause was deafening.

  But Cammie’s expression seemed confused and worried.

  The dancing began, and the wine and cocktails flowed. The food was divine and served in two stations, both outdoors and indoors, buffet-style to prevent too much back and forth traffic cutting across the party. Those who’d chosen to sit indoors where the music wasn’t quite as loud, but had a view of the dancing and festivities, were able to obtain food and drinks without coming outside, and the outdoor guests could do the same without going inside.

  The Larouxs sat at the head table that presided at the far end of the brick
ed patio area. Just enough out of the way of any foot traffic but not in the grassy area that sloped toward the water. They were situated within view of both the inside guests and all the tables outside. They weren’t right on top of the band either, which was nice, but had a direct view of all the dancers and musicians across the dance floor.

  This set up had worked well for many years. It gave guests the opportunity to stop by and offer congratulations during the evening to the happy couple and family. Fortunately, here in the deep South, it was often mild enough to hold weddings using this indoor/outdoor situation.

  “So, why doesn’t your brother have a date for the wedding?” Matthew asked.

  She laughed out loud. “Because he wouldn’t want to make anyone mad. If he chooses one girl over another as his wedding date, it will cause a near-riot, and he didn’t want a scene at Mom’s wedding.”

  Matthew’s expression was comical in its disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I’m deadly serious. Ask him yourself.” She gestured toward Ben, who was standing, a highball glass in his hand, inching back, a step at a time every few seconds as if he was being accosted from three or four gorgeous young women who were each trying to gain more and more ground as he retreated and they advanced. The women, ranging in age from what appeared to be late teens to early thirties, were nearly elbowing one another to be nearer to Ben than the other.

  Matthew watched for a moment. “Nah. I’m not going anywhere near that. He’s on his own there.”

  “It is a weird phenomenon around here. Nobody really understands it, certainly not his sisters. But one theory is, if you’re single, have all your teeth, and have a steady job, and, then, throw in smoking hot in a small town, you’re like red meat in a lion’s den.”

  “I get it. I’ve had a few casseroles dropped off with phone numbers left at my door. I’ve also been the recipient of a few portfolios for wannabe models and actresses. I guess it’s gotten around that I’m in the entertainment industry.”

  “I’ll just bet you have. I’m wondering how much clothing these gals had on in the photos.” Emma couldn’t help that little bit of jealousy gnawing in the pit of her stomach.

  Of course, the women around here wanted to have a go at Matthew. Just like Ben, he had it all going on. Sexy, single, and employed. And his teeth were really nice, too. Worst of all, he’d been seen around town with her. That would make him especially appealing—he was a challenge to take away from Emma. Irresistible.

  “Just for the record, I’m not interested. How could I be? I’ve got the most gorgeous woman in Alabama with me tonight.”

  They were talking close, so others wouldn’t hear their conversation. She imagined it appeared pretty intimate. So what? Let them talk and think what they liked.

  “Then dance with me, soldier.” She nearly purred in his ear.

  “With pleasure.” He pulled out her chair and led her through the throng of bodies to the dance floor.

  Emma noticed the interested stares. She’d had a couple glasses of wine. And she knew they made a stunning couple. Everybody was famous in a small town. Some more than others, she supposed, and that was alright. With her big personality, it was hard to avoid, and having been Miss Alabama and having held all the other pageant titles around the state, people tended to recognize her and to stare and to whisper and point.

  Matthew proved himself an excellent dancer, graceful with rhythm but still so masculine. The band was playing an old classic dance tune and they swayed and fell into perfect steps. He dipped her and then spun her around. It was thrilling. In fact, she hadn’t enjoyed dancing so much in years. Not since—

  She’d been so focused on the song and Matthew that she hadn’t seen Tad and Sadie dancing beside them. In fact, she hadn’t even noticed they were the only two couples on the dance floor, and that everyone else had moved to the side, leaving the four dancers to themselves in a sort of dance-off.

  Tad was an excellent dancer, and he and Sadie had taken ballroom classes from a friend of hers who owned the dance studio where many of her pageant students trained.

  “Well, shit,” Matthew muttered. “Does this guy ever give it a rest?”

  The band had obviously gotten into the spirit of things and began playing a big-band, fox-trot to test the dancers’ skills.

  “Do you want to stop?” Emma asked, hopefully.

  “Oh, hell no.” Matthew grinned. “I learned ballroom during my film training. All that Fred Astaire and Ginger.”

  Emma recognized a pissing contest when she danced upon one. “Every pageant girl worth her salt knows ballroom.”

  He spun her around. “Good thing you’ve got your dancing shoes on.” He nodded toward her bridesmaid pumps.

  “You bet I do.” She nodded and sashayed and shimmied to the music, then circled Matthew, hands on her hips and, glad for the generous slit in her skirt, executed a high kick worthy of a Radio Music City Rockette.

  Matthew laughed, obviously enjoying every minute of their performance.

  Tad and Sadie were performing a less enthusiastic, but more traditional version of the dance. Their steps were near-perfect in execution, Emma noticed, while she and Matthew were rather—acrobatic in comparison.

  The crowd was gathering around the dance floor, and Emma really was becoming uncomfortable with the spectacle since this was her mother’s big day. But when she looked up, Mom and Howard were laughing and clapping alongside everyone else, eyes shining, their pride evident.

  The beginning strains of a tango began and Matthew pulled her close and gazed deeply into her eyes. His strong hands held her as they spun, dipped, and stepped, gazes hardly leaving one another’s. Emma’s skin burned, her bones liquid. They moved in perfect unison, one with the music. The crowd and other dancers ceased to exist. The crescendo swelled loudly as Matthew held her close and dipped her low, their hips pressed tightly together.

  The wild applause finally broke through the spell Emma was under. She was still lost in Matthew’s magical gaze. She hadn’t even realized the music had ended. When Matthew lifted her to a full standing position, she noticed Tad staring at her with such malice that she had to look away. What the heck—

  “That was wonderful, my dears. I had no idea you were such fantastic dancers. Emma, I’m so impressed.” Her mother and Howard were beside them, congratulating them.

  Emma noticed Tad had stalked away a moment ago, leaving Sadie standing alone. “Excuse me a minute,” she said.

  “Hi, Sadie. Wow, that was really something,” she said to the lovely blonde woman.

  Sadie had appeared slightly distressed a moment ago, but recovered quickly as Emma approached, and in true Southern belle form, smiled graciously.

  “Oh, Emma. That was fantastic. It was just like watching Dancing With the Stars; you know that’s my favorite program. Y’all were just stunning. Tad went to get us a drink. All that dancing made him thirsty, you know.” Then she spoke behind her hand in a dramatic fashion. “And you know he likes to be the best at everything. Y’all just showed him up, I’m afraid.” But that didn’t seem to bother sweet Sadie.

  “Tad’s got enough confidence for us all. He’ll be fine.” Emma laughed it off.

  “You’ve got that right,” Sadie said, and Emma’s gaze followed Sadie’s to the bar where Tad downed a highball glass filled with amber liquid, then proceeded to repeat the process. “Uh-oh,” Sadie whispered under her breath. “Maybe I can get him to leave quietly. Tad usually doesn’t drink, but when he does, things can get—a little ugly.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Emma said. “Is there anything we can do?” She asked, not knowing how to help poor Sadie.

  “No. It might be best to stay out of his way. For some reason, he’s been giving you the hairy eyeball all night. Did you get in an argument or something?” Sadie asked.

  “No. I can’t think of anything he would be mad at me about,” Emma said.

  Nothing that wasn’t stupid or asinine, but she would bite her lip on that
part.

  “I’ll try to keep him at a safe distance from y’all if I can,” Sadie said as she kept one eye on Tad as he downed another drink. “See you later.”

  “What was that about?” Matthew asked.

  “Nothing good. She congratulated us on our groovy moves, but she’s a little worried about her husband over there slamming straight scotch.” Emma nodded to where Tad appeared to be shrugging off Sadie’s attempts to pull him away from the bar.

  “Does he usually get like that?” Matthew asked.

  Emma shook her head. “No. He’s normally in total control. I’ve never seen him drink like that.”

  They turned and made their way toward the family’s table, accepting compliments and comments on their dancing skills along the way. Emma stopped a few times to introduce Matthew to friends or acquaintances.

  “Wow, you two. That was crazy, good dancing. Didn’t know you had it in you, Emma. All those guys saw how flexible you are—might mean trouble. Phone’s gonna be ringing off the wall.” Junior threw his two cents into the conversation back at the table.

  “Her phone’s already ringing off the wall. What are you talking about? Now that they know she’s dating again, she’s having to beat them off with a stick. But I hate to admit that I agree with Junior on this one. You were one hot momma out there,” Maeve said, then nodded toward Matthew. “You weren’t so bad yourself, stud.”

  Emma giggled as Matthew actually blushed at her sister’s blatant compliment. “Uh, thanks, I think,” he said.

  Ben approached and slid into his seat, glancing furtively behind him. “Are they gone?”

  “Who?” Emma asked, then understood. “You mean, all of them?”

  “Yes; all of them. Don’t most people get a date for a wedding?” Ben asked.

  “I doubt it. Probably hoping to hookup with you here,” Maeve said.

 

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