The Wedding Dance

by Lucy Kevin

  “You’re going to ask how Dad’s doing, if he’s seeing anyone, and if he ever talks about you anymore. Then you’ll go over the whole divorce and—”

  “I was married to him, Phoebe. That creates a connection that lasts forever, even if the marriage doesn’t.”

  Phoebe knew she should leave the room before she said anything she might end up regretting when her head was clearer. “It’s been a long day, Mom. I’m sorry, but I’m really tired and dirty. I’m going to take a bath and then tuck myself into bed on the couch.”

  Frankly, she thought as she sank into a tub of steaming water a few minutes later, the only good thing to come out of the evening was that her mother’s latest breakup had made it very, very clear how smart Phoebe had been to stop Patrick in his romantic tracks.

  She picked up the soap and washcloth and began to clean the dirt from her hands and feet. But no matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t clear away the unwanted longings within herself. Longings not just for a house and garden...but for a man to share them with who would love her unconditionally.

  A man she could trust.

  A man who made her heart pound too fast as he held her in his arms.

  A man who looked and sounded an awful lot like Patrick Knight.

  Chapter Six

  Phoebe got to work early the next morning and found RJ in the main room working to put up a façade based on Tara from Gone With The Wind. Marge Banning wanted them to turn the whole of the Rose Chalet into a reconstruction of the old house. Phoebe had never been able to understand why Marge Banning had opted to recreate Gone With The Wind for her big day, especially given that the story ended with Scarlett not getting the man she wanted.

  “Is everything going to plan?” Phoebe asked RJ. The supporting frame was almost all up, but she could see there was still plenty of work to be done.

  “It’ll take a while, but I’ll get there just like last time.”

  That was one good thing about the three-peat’s wedding plans. They already knew exactly what would work and what wouldn’t, so it was mostly just a question of trying to replicate the parts that went well.

  “By the way, there are a few gladiolas that have just bloomed.” He grinned. “That is if you can persuade Marge Banning to try something new.”

  “Of course I have to try,” Phoebe said. “Though I’d probably have better luck trying to stop the tide coming in. Besides, I suspect Rose will kill me if I convinced Marge to change her wedding plans.”

  RJ frowned at the mention of their boss’s name and got back to work. Phoebe moved away before he could remember to ask her about Rose and Donovan’s landscaping plans.

  Talking about the house would mean talking about Patrick. And after the way things had ended last night, it would be more than a little awkward to discuss one brother with another.

  Hadn’t she known better than to say yes to dinner with RJ’s brother, because it would cause problems when things went wrong?

  Thankfully though, for the moment at least, RJ seemed no more inclined than Phoebe was to talk about the house or what she thought about his brother.

  She headed out into the gardens of the chalet, looking around to see what flowers were available. That was one of the best things about working where she did. The Rose Chalet gave her the garden that she could never have with an apartment. Between this garden, the small greenhouse hidden at the rear of the wedding venue, and her contacts in San Francisco’s flower markets, she could generally find what she wanted when it came to flowers.

  If only men were that easy.

  Phoebe forced the thought away as she checked on the gladiolas. They were, as RJ had said, perfectly in bloom. Phoebe cut one carefully, taking a moment to savor the scent.

  Gladiolas symbolized love at first sight.

  There was, she told herself firmly, absolutely no reason for that thought to make her chest twinge as she set out to go see Rose in the other corner of the garden.

  Her boss was going over a couple of papers at a table in the sunlight. Since even Rose couldn’t find that much to organize in Marge Banning’s repeat wedding, Phoebe guessed she was working on either her house, or her personal wedding plans.

  Rose looked up with a smile as she approached. “Oh, Phoebe, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been wanting to thank you again for going to check out the property with Patrick. It really means a lot to me that you took the day to work with him on it.”

  “It was my pleasure,” Phoebe said.

  As the lone non-romantic in the business, she’d learned to put on a good face with Rose, and she definitely didn’t want her boss thinking there was any funny business going on with RJ’s brother. Especially not after what had happened with Julie, their former in-house caterer, and her new boyfriend not too long ago.

  “I was hoping I could ask you for another favor. There’s just such a lot of things to consider with the house and Donovan asked me if I could get away from work for a few hours today. Would you mind holding down the fort when Marge comes to go over any last minute details?”

  “Sure, I’m happy to do whatever you need me to do.”

  “Great.” Rose handed her Marge’s wedding information binder. “Oh, and Phoebe?”

  “Yes?”

  “The gladiolas are beautiful, but don’t try changing the bouquets.”

  Phoebe couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Rose walked away. Even when her boss was busy with other things, she still seemed to have eyes in the back of her head. Just as Phoebe’s mother always had.

  Before she could dwell too long on what her mother might get up to, alone in her apartment all day while she was at work and couldn’t entertain her, Marge showed up in a Lexus hybrid, looking as excited as she had the first time she’d gotten married at the chalet.

  She smiled at Phoebe with genuine warmth. “It’s great to see you again, Phoebe.”

  “You too, Marge. Rose was called away, so it’s just us today.” She looked behind Marge. “Unless you brought the lucky guy with you?”

  “You know I don’t like to have them around for this part,” Marge said with a wave of her hand. “They’d only go around suggesting things, and a girl’s wedding…well, it should be all hers, don’t you think?”

  Fortunately, Phoebe knew an answer wasn’t expected. “Should we head inside now so that you can check out the displays?”

  “I’d like that,” Marge said. The sound of hammering came from the main room and she happily clasped her hands together. “Is Tara going up?”

  Phoebe nodded. “Everything will be ready in plenty of time for your wedding. I promise.”

  “I know it will be,” Marge said. “I’ve seen the finished product, but I haven’t had the chance to see Tara being put together so far. Could we go inside and take a look?”

  As Phoebe walked with Marge into the main hall of the chalet, they discussed a few timing issues for the ceremony. RJ was still hammering away and Tyce was there too, moving his sound system into the right spot while occasionally making notes.

  And then, Patrick unexpectedly walked in, carrying a stack of lumber over one shoulder, and Phoebe’s heart immediately started racing.

  It explained how RJ had been getting so much done. He was getting help from his brother...who wasn’t wearing a shirt while he worked, leaving Phoebe staring at the lean, well defined muscles of his chest for a second or two before she could snap herself out of it.

  “My friend at the flower market says the roses will be in perfect bloom for your wedding day,” she told Marge in far too loud of a voice.

  “That’s wonderful, Phoebe,” Marge said.

  But even though she sounded happy about it, and despite Rose’s warning to stick with the plan, Phoebe couldn’t help at least trying to suggest something else.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with something new for this wedding? There are so many other flowers in bloom this time of year, truly lovely ones.”

  “I’m sure there are,” the other w
oman said, “but the arrangements you made last time were perfect.” As if she could tell Phoebe was disappointed, “You know what they say, don’t you? Third time’s the charm!” Marge looked past her, and Phoebe followed her gaze to where Patrick was still working shirtless. “Though a girl can’t help but think about making it a fourth time for a man who looks like that.”

  Architects were supposed to sit at desks all day drawing things, thought Phoebe. They should not have bodies like that.

  “Hello Phoebe, Ms. Banning,” Tyce said as he moved past them to rig up the sound system on the other side of the wall.

  Phoebe forced her gaze from Patrick to Tyce. The Rose Chalet’s music director was definitely handsome, but he never made Phoebe’s stomach do somersaults.

  “Oh, come on, Tyce,” Marge said. “We must surely know one another well enough that you can call me Marge by now.”

  He raised his eyebrows and gave her his patented heartbreaker look. “In that case, it’s very nice to see you again, Marge.”

  “Mmm,” Marge said softly as she watched him walk from the room. “It’s a wonder you manage to get anything done around here with so many good looking men around. And it’s even more of a wonder that you don’t have a ring on your finger.”

  “Married?” Phoebe choked. “I’m not even dating anyone.”

  “You must have the self-control of a saint.” Marge smiled the kind of smile that said a lot about how she had acquired three husbands. Well, nearly three. “That or you just haven’t noticed the way the gorgeous one with his shirt off is staring at you.”

  Phoebe glanced around quickly, but by that point Patrick wasn’t looking at her anymore, if he had been. Was the whole world conspiring to try to get them together?

  And the idea of Marge Banning giving her advice on love and marriage…

  “Marge, can I ask you something?” When the woman nodded, Phoebe took a breath and asked the question she’d been wanting an answer to since Marge’s second wedding. Even if it meant Rose might kill her, she had to know, “Why do you do this?”

  “Do what?” Marge asked, cocking her head to the side.

  “The weddings. Going through it all again and again, the same way every time. Especially if it didn’t work the last two times.”

  Unexpectedly, Marge smiled. “I do it the same way because the details don’t really matter, and I like them like this. All you really need is a man, a woman, and that feeling.”

  “What feeling?”

  Marge put a hand over Phoebe’s. “Trust me, you’ll know it when you feel it.”

  That was the kind of romantic nonsense she would normally have scoffed at, yet she couldn’t when it was a client saying it to her.

  Although, at present, there was another much more important reason why she didn’t say anything...a reason that had a lot to do with what she felt every time she glanced at Patrick.

  Were the butterflies flying around and around in her stomach at the thought of being in Patrick’s arms again what Marge meant?

  And, if so...had she just been hit by Marge’s ‘feeling’?

  Chapter Seven

  Patrick hefted his length of lumber, fit it into place on the side of the elaborate construction taking shape in the Rose Chalet’s main room, and held it steady while his brother hammered it into place. He tried to concentrate on the job at hand, looking at what he was doing rather than staring at Phoebe...but it was far from easy. She looked stunning today. Simply stunning.

  Just like always.

  Patrick didn’t care to make a secret of how he felt about her, but if one little joke could send her running off, what would openly staring at her do? Better to at least pretend to be focused on helping RJ, even if Patrick had been the one to volunteer to do it, simply to have a chance of seeing Phoebe again.

  If she wouldn’t take his calls, what other option was there for him to see her?

  “You’d better move your thumb out of the way,” RJ said, “unless you want it to become part of the chalet’s new look.” His brother made a pointed sound. “Are you listening, Patrick?”

  Patrick managed to hold focus long enough to get the next few pieces of wood attached. He’d always enjoyed building projects, but as an architect, he rarely had a chance to do hard physical labor. As much as he loved his job, there was something about sweating over putting something together with his own hands that could never be entirely replaced. It was why he was so active, hiking and swimming and boating whenever he had the chance.

  “Thanks for your help, but I can get the rest.” RJ said. “Why don’t you go take a shower in the back?”

  Patrick followed RJ’s directions around to the back of the building. He took his time using the shower, trying and failing to stop himself from imagining what it would be like if Phoebe were there with him. Patrick had to turn the tap completely cold before finally stepping out and getting dressed again.

  He knew he could have gotten together with her for one night. But one night—a quick, sexy fling—wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t just want to get to know her body better.

  He wanted to learn the secrets of her heart, too.

  Patrick made his way back to the Rose Chalet’s main room, hoping the client had left so that he could get a chance to speak with Phoebe. But even though the bride-to-be was no longer in the room, the woman he couldn’t get out of his head was in the middle of a conversation with the music director.

  “Are you going to be dancing at Marge’s wedding the way you did at the last one, Phoebe?” he was asking her.

  “Why,” Phoebe asked, a flirtatious lilt to her voice, “are you planning on joining me, Tyce?”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  She laughed and said, “You know, Tyce, that sound system of yours just keeps getting bigger. Does any of it actually do anything, or is it all just there to compensate for something?”

  “Agree to dance with me and you’ll find out.”

  “So I’ll never know the answer, then?” she said before leaving the room and heading for the garden.

  Beside Patrick, RJ smiled as he reached for a drill. “See what I mean? One big, happy family.”

  Really? It didn’t feel like the kind of banter you got in a family to Patrick. No, what he had just witnessed seemed like straightforward flirting.

  A burst of jealousy ran through Patrick and heat flashed along his skin. Phoebe deserved more than flirting with some guy she worked with. She deserved a man who could sweep her off her feet. She deserved romance.

  Real romance.

  Forever rather than a string of meaningless one-night stands.

  “Hey,” RJ said, “if you’re heading back out to Rose’s property soon, could you pick up a few things at the nursery for our volunteer project tomorrow?”

  Along with a couple of dozen other people, RJ and Patrick had volunteered to do some upkeep in Golden Gate Park’s overgrown areas. It was just the sort of thing their family had done together when they were kids.

  Just like that, Patrick was hit with an idea for a date that could be a whole lot more fun than sitting around in a restaurant making small talk until he said the wrong thing. Knowing there was no time like the present, he made his way over to where Phoebe was clipping a few roses from the garden.

  “Hello, Phoebe.”

  Her cheeks were flushed as she looked up at him. Would he ever get used to how beautiful she was?

  “Hi, Patrick.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry I had to leave so suddenly last night. Good thing my building manager had already let my mother in by the time I got home.”

  He worked to mask his surprise that her mother’s arrival hadn’t just been an excuse. Still, Patrick had the feeling that she’d been only too happy to leave the outdoor restaurant—and him—by that point.

  “Is she doing okay?”

  “I hope so. Her latest relationship didn’t work out, and—” She cut herself off and ran a hand through her hair, before forcing a smile onto her face. “I began to w
rite up some ideas for Rose’s landscaping plans last night. I’ll try to get them to you in a couple of days if that’s all right.”

  “That’s fine, thanks,” he said, not wanting to talk business with her right now. “RJ’s volunteer gardening group is landscaping part of Golden Gate Park and I was wondering if you’d like to come help out tomorrow afternoon.”

  That wary look was back in her eyes. “So this would be you and me—”

  “And about thirty other people,” he said quickly. “It’s a worthwhile project, and we could really use your skills. Having someone who really knows what she’s doing with plants could make all the difference.”

  Phoebe hesitated and he resisted the urge to push her any harder to get her to agree. Doing that would just give her more of a reason to back away.

  On impulse, he reached down to pick up a lone gladiola that was lying on the grass between them and handed it to her.

  “I hope to see you there.”

  Chapter Eight

  Phoebe stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, trying to pick out the right thing to wear for the late afternoon gardening project. She wanted to look good, but working on a few well-maintained flowerbeds at the chalet and hacking through overgrown shrubs to reclaim an untamed section of parkland were two very different things.

  Of course, it shouldn’t matter how she looked today. Not now that Patrick seemed to have finally gotten her “let’s just be friends” message. After all, no one in the history of the world had ever recommended a day of hard manual labor as a technique of seduction. It was about as far from any normal idea of a date as Phoebe could think of, and maybe that was the point. Maybe this was Patrick’s way of making it clear that he could work with her without romance intruding on it. Maybe he really did want to be buddies with her the way his brother was.

  Either way, she thought as she pushed back the disappointment at the thought of only being “buddies” with Patrick, it made picking out clothes a little easier. Jeans and a dark sweater wouldn’t show too much dirt. After putting on some boots, she checked her watch and saw that she’d have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the park on time, and rushed out into her apartment.