Confessions of a Wedding Planner (Bliss Series Book 1)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

We didn’t have much time, but he promised that he would make every moment count. Our first stop was the Eiffel tower. He greeted everyone on the way there like some celebrity, and they all greeted him back. Some women tried to catch his attention longer, but he just trudged on, talking about the history of the Eiffel tower, in case I didn't know.

  Levi took pictures of me standing in the foreground of the famous landmark while we waited to climb it. He offered to take me to a different place where the view would be better, but I declined, confessing that being in the tower itself was high on my to-do list. Although, we couldn't go nearly as far as he hoped due to my fear of heights. Still, the view was incredible.

  He asked someone to take a photo of us. The guy gave us a thumbs-up the first two takes, then asked us to kiss on the third. Why not? It could be quite a story to tell my future kids if I ever had them.

  A soft breeze blew strands of my hair over my face. With the pads of his fingers, Levi gingerly brushed them off and tucked them back behind my ears. His blue gaze searched my face as he cupped it in his hands. His eyes slowly lowered to my lips. With tenderness, he captured my bottom lip between his. I closed my eyes, while my entire body trembled at first, then warmth flooded.

  I opened my eyes to a flash, and to an adoring smile, soft lips hovering over mine. When Levi turned away to thank the man, I had to grab the side rails. The cold metal was a contrast to my burned skin. My lips continued to tingle even as I soothed it with my fingers. His taste remained in my mouth. A mixture of mint, cinnamon, and man.

  Short on time, Levi promised that he would be my guide to the other landmarks that were on my list for the rest of the trip. Stopping at a charming patisserie, we picked up snacks and coffee before strolling along the Seine, hand in hand, and boarding a boat tour for the night. He’d only mentioned once that he had access to a boat, and we could do our own private tour, to which I replied that most tourists didn’t have that chance. I wanted to keep to my plan and avoid doing anything private with Levi until my heart settled.

  Quietly we sat on the boat, the water softly rocking us, and I enjoyed the silent elation surging through my veins.

  From a distance, the Eiffel Tower lit up, and it was spectacular. It revived the magic I thought it’d lost after seeing Sandrine in the dress. I leaned on Levi’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around me, and somehow carefully tied my scarf around my neck. He kissed the top of my head when he was done. Anyone could easily have mistaken us for a loving couple. If only things weren't so complicated.

  But I tried not to let those complications ruin the moment.

  I was in the City of Love with a surprisingly tender man. Tomorrow could bring more twists and turns in our lives, but for a moment, with my head resting on his shoulder, and his arm around me, I felt cared for. For now, that was more than enough.

  Ten

  The Engagement

  Unexpected kisses were the best kinds. I had proof of it. While the coffee maker gurgled, filling my hotel room with delicious aroma, I admired the photograph displayed in front of me. They were connected, in more ways than one. His fingers lightly played with the edge of her jaw, while her hands were buried in his hair. Their eyes were closed. The backdrop of the city blurred around them as though nothing mattered but that the two of them and that kiss. Our kiss. My kiss with Levi on the Eiffel Tower.

  I closed my eyes, and I could feel the rising of Levi’s chest as he inhaled quietly but deeply before he kissed me. I licked my lips and tasted his signature mint and cinnamon flavor. It did funny things to my belly. The simple thought of it made the tiny hair on my arms rise, and my knees buckle.

  I opened my eyes and saw us kissing. There we were, like lovers in the night, locked in a kiss that neither wanted to break. Levi’s kisses were always unexpected. And memorable. Except for the times I’d had too much to drink. I couldn’t live that one down.

  After last night’s boat tour, he walked me back to my hotel, and the entire time, he listened to me talk about nothing, about everything. After a light drizzle, a fog had set in and gave the city that ethereal appeal. The chill didn’t faze either one of us.

  It didn’t matter what I was saying to him. What mattered was that I kept talking. He would ask simple questions, enough to encourage me to continue opening up. I told him stories about my childhood, growing up without a father, about my constantly broken-hearted mother and my innocent sister.

  Levi kept me close to him, but he only held my hand if I was about to step over a puddle. When we reached my hotel, there was a moment when I battled with my own indecision—should I ask him up or not?

  He made that decision for me, stepping closer, holding my frozen hands in his and lifting them to his lips. He blew warm breath onto them, while he peered at me through thick lashes. Levi flattened my hands together then rubbed his hands over them. Then he placed soft kisses on the tips of my fingers, one by one. There was a line of desire that tugged from my fingertips to the undeniable lust ebbing in my core.

  “Good night, Sweet Veronica,” Levi mumbled against my fingers.

  I parted my lips to speak, but not knowing what to say, I pressed them together and turned it into a smile. When he let go, I turned on my heels and made my way up the steps of the hotel and into the lobby.

  Chaz waved at me from his post by the desk. I meant to ask him what brought him to Paris, but I had no doubt in my mind that his answer was love.

  The city had that magical effect on people. Strangers became lovers. Enemies became friends. What would happen to this bridesmaid and the best man?

  That question kept me up until the wee hours of the night. When my eyes finally surrendered, all I could see behind my closed lids was the kiss on the Tower.

  The memory of it instilled in me until I woke up th at morning. I uploaded the photographs I’d taken the previous day on my laptop, and while I waited for Levi, the unexpected gentleman, to come so we could start another busy day trolling the streets of Paris, I stared at the photograph. Our photograph. Our kiss.

  I groaned into my hand. What was I going on about? This was Levi. A player. Mister Casanova himself. Sure, he was charming, but I couldn’t be part of his game. Frustrated with myself, I rolled out of the bed and headed to the shower. I wasn’t expecting Levi until later, “closer to lunch,” he had said yesterday. So when I opened the bathroom door and saw him standing by my bed, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  “Levi! You scared the behemoth out of me!” I bunched the fabric over the rapid heaving of my chest.

  “Scared the behemoth out of you?” He tilted his head back, laughing at my expense. “Do you know how to properly swear when you’re sober, Veronica?”

  I rolled my eyes and harrumphed. “I know how to cuss, Levi.” Walking over to the closet, I pulled out my sensible flats and a scarf that matched my dress.

  He continued to taunt me, “Not cuss. Cussing is for mid-century women who wear bloomers, and I know for a fact that you’re a lace kind of woman. So, I’m asking if you know how to curse, swear, say shit and fu—“

  Ignoring his comment about my chosen style of underwear, I raised a hand and wagged a finger at him. “I know what you mean. I just choose not to say them. My mother always said it’s unladylike,” I explained, holding my head high as I expertly knotted the scarf around my neck.

  “Then I shouldn’t tell her that you swear like a drunken pirate when you’re drunk?”

  I grabbed for something—my brush—nearby to throw at him, but he caught it, his shoulders shaking with laughter. How could I have thought that he was a different person? A better Levi? That brief adoration I had for him melted away. I wanted to argue his point but the image on my laptop screen captured my attention. Had he been looking at it?

  I rushed to it, diving on my bed and slamming my laptop lid shut. The hem of my dress rode up, and Levi had a lovely view of my pink lace undies. I turned to see him unabashedly gawking at my exposed behind. He wasn’t laughing any longer; that was a plus. He had his
hands stuffed in his pockets and he rocked back on his heels, but he didn’t take his gaze away from me, even as he licked his lips. I sat up, brushed my hands over my dress, and pretended that my cheeks didn’t readily flush.

  Levi cleared his throat and extended his hands to me. “We should go. I have a big day planned for us.”

  Grabbing hold of his hands, I slipped off the bed and got on my feet, straightening my dress once again. “Big plans? What kind of plans?”

  “It’s a surprise. C’mon.” He tugged, but I jerked my hands back.

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  “Don’t be silly. Everyone loves surprises.”

  “Well, I don’t,” I said with a steady defiance in my voice, gathering my hair and began braiding it. “I’m a planner, Levi. I don’t do surprises. Not for me, at least.”

  He scratched the underside of his jaw while he contemplated. Looking like he had come to a conclusion, he faced away from me, sauntered to the desk and picked up a picnic basket I hadn’t noticed . “I guess I won’t have any use for this.”

  “W-wait!” I stalked over to him and held onto the basket handle. “What’s in it?’

  Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he shook his head. “Nope. You can’t look since you don’t like surprises and this—“He lifted the basket “—is part of the surprise.”

  “What? No, I need to look. Let me see.” As I reached for it, he hid it behind him. I had to hold onto his arms to get closer to it, at the same time, Levi circled an arm around me.

  “Nope. No surprise. No picnic. No basket.”

  “Levi, let me look.” His arm tightened around me, but he continued to pull the basket away from my reach. Worse, he began tickling my sides. I thrashed in his arms, forgetting the basket and focusing on getting him off me before I peed my pants. “Stop! Stop, please.” My eyes welled up, and I couldn’t stop laughing, which encouraged him more. I started kicking, slapping his arms away, anything to get him to release me. My left leg hooked around his and before I knew it, we were toppling down on the floor. Somehow, he was able to twist us around so that his back hit the carpet, and I, in turn, flopped right on top of him.

  It was a graceful fall.

  My nose grazed his. He exhaled heavily, and I inhaled his cinnamon-mint breath. Next thing I knew, I was nuzzling his nose, his cheek, and down his throat, basking in his masculine scent. Levi gripped my waist. I wiggled my hips against his, and he moaned and groaned, but not the happy, sexy kind. It sounded like a painful grunt. I raised my head and peeked through my messy hair. The pained expression on his face proved it.

  “Levi? I…” I moved on top of him, and he produced another strained sound. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re on my…arrrghhh…your knee is on my crotch.”

  “Oh! Shoot!” Peeling myself off of him, I didn’t realize that the knee I used to prop me up was the same knee that was in contact with his family jewels. Levi muffled his scream by covering his mouth with a hand. From a safe distance, I hid a snicker. “I’m so sorry.”

  Turning on his side, Levi curled into a fetal position, continuing to groan, grunt and mutter some colorful words.

  “Levi?” I reached out a hand, but he held his up, halting me from touching him.

  “Just give me…give me a sec.” More grunts followed, with heavy breaths.

  I sat, concerned until his moaning quieted down. “Do you need ice?”

  Propping an elbow on the floor, Levi twisted around to face me. “I’ll be fine. You may have effectively denied me having kids in the future, but for now, I’m okay.”

  Lips pressed together; I extended my hands again. “Let me help you up.”

  “No!” he said instantly. “I think I’m safer getting up on my own.” Taking his time, he sat up first, lowering his head and muttering, “Serves me right...”

  My heart began to hammer in my chest. It wasn’t exactly clear, but I thought the rest of that sentence was “for wanting to kiss you.” But I could be wrong. I didn’t know if I should be disappointed that I wasn’t right or that he didn’t get to kiss me.

  * * *

  To make it up to him, I decided to let him continue with his surprise. It was the least I could do since for at least a half hour; he was limping as we marveled at the Notre Dame Cathedral. We stopped by a bakery for more delectable croissants.

  Levi’s grasp on the basket was so firm that I was increasingly nervous at what could be in it. Although I questioned if it even had contents since he picked up a baguette from the bakery. He did mention that he’d planned to rent bicycles for us, but as he was uncertain of his groin’s condition at the moment, he opted to walk it through.

  We strolled on the cobblestones of Le Marais, and he was patient enough to let me take photographs along the way. My camera clicked as Levi pointed out interesting architectural points and talked about the history of this part of the city.

  While I was taking a shot of yet another ivy-covered apartment, Levi huffed and grabbed my camera from me.

  I protested, “Hey!”

  “You’re doing it all wrong.” He dropped the picnic basket by his feet and fiddled with my camera. “What? These are all…” Not finishing his sentence, he shook his head in frustration.

  “It’s beautiful. Hey, don’t delete them.”

  “I’m not. Stay put. I’ll do this for you.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot. “Levi, give me back my camera.”

  He didn’t argue, but he didn’t give it back. Levi cocked his head to one side and without warning, he snapped a photo of me.

  “Don’t do that!”

  “Why not? You said you wanted to photos of beautiful things.”

  My heart jumped to my throat. I bit down on my lip and hung my head low, embarrassed by his statement. There was another click. And another. When I looked up, he took another.

  “Okay, stop. I think you’ve had enough fun with that.” I asked for the camera back and after a few seconds of hesitation, he handed it to me. “Thank you.”

  We continued along, passing through massive doors that opened up to hidden gardens and courtyards. Every time we walked by a shop, Levi and I would pop in and he would slip his purchases in the basket after I’d tried different cheese samples or fruit.

  “There wasn’t anything in that basket, was there?” I asked when we arrived at Place des Vosges.

  “There is now,” he proudly replied.

  He picked a spot in the garden and pulled a plaid blanket out of the basket. Then Levi spread out the baguette, cheeses, and fruits on it. He also brought out a bottle of sparkling water and wine, and glasses. For the finishing touch, he placed a few pink rose buds in vintage apothecary bottles. He wouldn’t let me help. All I could do was admire his handiwork once he was done. He was just as meticulous as I would have been with the entire process.

  After rubbing his hands together, he stretched them out and asked me to join him for a picnic. For a real picnic at one of the loveliest gardens in Paris. It was a total cliché, proven by the fact that the place was full of couples, families and friends. But holy wow, was it ever romantic.

  “So I told you all about my family yesterday, I think it’s your turn to share,” I said, about to bite a slice of Roquefort and quince jam on a baguette.

  Levi’s hair hung over his forehead. He raked a hand through his hair, brushing it back before he pinned me with his gaze. “There’s not much to tell.”

  “Oh, c’mon. That’s unfair. Tell me a little bit.”

  Pouring wine in glasses, Levi handed me one. He sipped on it and had a bite of Camembert and sliced pear. Clearly, he was uncomfortable with the topic. Who didn’t have skeletons in their closets?

  I was about to say that he didn’t have to talk when he blurted out, “I didn’t grow up with my parents. They sent me to boarding schools. Schools. Plural. I kept getting kicked out of them.”

  “Not much of a surprise there,” I muttered, but regretted it by the way his f
ace somber. “I didn’t mean--”

  “No, you’re right. I was a hellion. I gave everyone a hard time. The best times of my childhood were going to Bordeaux, to my grandparents’ vineyard. Martina let me work with her. She taught me everything about grapes and the wine culture.”

  “That’s cool. You certainly know your stuff. This is amazing.” I tipped the wine glass, taking a sip of the full-bodied red. His smile was almost shy. “You call your grandmother by her first name?”

  “Yes, but I tease her sometimes and call her Onna.”

  “Onna? That’s cute. What’s she like?”

  Levi looked straight ahead, as though he could see his grandmother in the near distance. He had chuckled before he said, “She’s stubborn, really hard-headed, but brilliant and strong. She’s an American. Was. She’s more French than this cheese. Don’t tell her I said that.” He pointed at me, holding another slice of pear. “Martina and my grandfather met during the war. They lived here in Paris once the war ended.”

  “Did she ever go back home?”

  “Once, I think. Although she’s called France her home for decades.”

  “But you…you live in the US?” I couldn’t figure out why, but there was a tug in my chest when I asked him.

  “For now,” he said quickly, then he worked the muscles on his jaw, deep in thought, as if he wanted to retract his reply but didn’t know how or if he should. I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed at the thought of him leaving. Like Levi, I didn’t want to say it out loud, nor did I know if I should be feeling anything like this toward him.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  It was such a surprise that I almost spat my food out. Is Levi sharing a secret with me? I didn’t think he was the type. “Someday, I hope to produce my own wine, one that would knock people’s socks off.”

  “Is that how the sommeliers of the world measure the greatness of wine?” I teased.

  “Oh yeah. All the time. If both socks get knocked off, it’s a world-class wine.” I laughed with him and continued on even when his laughter died down. Our gazes locked , and my giggles morphed into shallow breaths. A breeze blew past and pushed a wayward strand of hair to my cheek. Levi tenderly twirled it around his finger and tucked it back behind my ear. His delicate touch lingered, searing my skin with its warmth.