Zoe snorted. “No, but I just need to get through the next”—she checked her watch—“twenty-four minutes until the ceremony begins. One thing at a time.”
Taking the girl by the hand, Zoe led her around the side of the building to the parish hall where the reception tables were set up for dinner. She made sure Levi was following behind. “Sorry. This won’t take long.”
“No rush. I’ve got nowhere to be.”
Zoe glared at him over her shoulder and saw his mischievous grin. Was he actually egging her on at a moment like this? Did he take anything seriously? This was a wedding. It was supposed to be the best day of the bride’s and groom’s lives, and he was acting like it was, well, no big deal.
But it was a big deal. Her entire job was to organize “big deal” celebrations.
“Cake!” the girl demanded.
“Okay, okay.” Zoe steered her toward the kitchen at the end of the hall. “The cake is just in here.”
But when she swung the door open, she got a lot more cake than she’d anticipated. Red velvet with cream cheese icing to be exact. Right in the face.
Zoe’s head whipped to the side like she’d been slapped. The cream cheese icing slid down her cheek and onto her silk blouse. She blinked the sponge cake from her eyelashes in surprise.
“What the hell?”
The flower girl gasped. “You said a bad word.”
“You did say a bad word,” Levi said in mock seriousness.
Zoe scowled at him. “What?”
The little girl grinned, and yelled, “Hell!”
“Don’t say that.” Zoe pinched the bridge of her nose. This day was so not going according to plan.
Then Levi got a look inside the kitchen and he said, “Holy crap.”
“Crap!” the girl cried.
Zoe glared across the kitchen at the father of the groom—or FOG, for short. Wedding cake coated his right hand, the frosting smeared up to the elbow of his suit jacket. By the looks of the mangled fifteen hundred dollar seven-tiered cake, he’d tried a few times to hit his target: the MOB, or mother of the bride. She, however, was relatively cake free but for a few globs of icing that clung to her permed hair.
“I’m so sorry,” the FOG told Zoe. “I didn’t mean to.” Then he frowned and spun toward the MOB. “This is all your fault. You’d drive a priest insane!”
She was a short woman but somehow seemed to grow taller with her fury at the balding man. “The way you drove my daughter insane? Her ten-thousand-dollar dress won’t fit now because of you.”
“Because of me?” His laugh sounded like a forced bark. “I didn’t force feed her all that ice cream. Just because she has no will power—”
“Will power?” she screeched. “This wasn’t her fault. It was all stress induced.”
“Yeah, stress induced by your crazy family.” He jabbed an accusing cream-cheesy finger at her.
“We’re crazy? We’re crazy!?” Her eyes bulged. “I’ll show you crazy!”
She grabbed the engraved cake knife from the tray while Mr. Wells scooped a chunk from the next tier of cake and balled it up in his hands.
Zoe lunged between them. “Whoa! Whoa! That’s enough.”
They froze at the tone in her voice, eyes darting from their enemy to Zoe and back again. Neither seemed ready to be the first to lay down their weapon and yield.
Levi hovered close by, but stayed out of it. Maybe because he was afraid of Zoe too. Or maybe because he knew what was good for him, she thought.
“This day is not about you or how much you hate each other.” Zoe’s sharp gaze darted between the two of them. “This day is about your children and their happiness. So if you aren’t willing to support them or be quiet witnesses of their love and happiness today, then you can leave.”
Mrs. Fisher still glared, looking scarily like her daughter when she was mad—which was all the time. Her knuckles turned white as her grip on the knife tightened.
“And if you don’t leave. I’ll call the cops,” Zoe added. “Now give me the knife.” Zoe held out her hand.
Mrs. Fisher seemed to come to her senses and stared down in surprise, like the hand still clenching the knife belonged to someone else. After a moment, her fist relaxed and she passed the two-hundred-dollar cake knife to Zoe.
Zoe took a deep breath as she set it aside. Another potential crisis averted. She turned to Mr. Wells. “Now you go wash up. The bride is about to walk down the aisle in exactly”—she checked her watch—“seventeen minutes.”
“Cake!” the flower girl cried.
Zoe spun in time to watch the girl ram a fist into the bottom layer of the cake. She pulled out a clump to shove in her face, effectively destroying what was left of the red velvet monstrosity.
Levi stared at the ruins. “Maybe you can still save it. You could, like, put a flower here.” He pointed. “And here. And here.” He swiped a finger over the icing and licked it off. “If it’s any consolation, it tastes great.”
Sighing, Zoe pulled out her phone to scroll through her list of cake bakers. When she found one, she sent Natalie a text to order an emergency replacement cake from Gimme Some Sugar Shop.
“Mrs. Fisher, can you please take the flower girl and get her cleaned up and to the doors ASAP?”
The MOB nodded and began to herd the sticky girl with two fists full of cake out of the kitchen. Before the doors shut behind them, Zoe remembered to yell out, “And keep her away from those birds!”
Zoe checked her watch again, but Levi placed a hand over it before she could see. “Don’t worry. It will all work itself out.”
“Work itself out?” She gaped at him. “Things don’t just work themselves out because you want them to. Things will work out because I make sure they do. I have everything under control. I am in complete control,” she said, as though to convince herself.
Without thinking, her hand found its way into her bridal utility bag. As her fingers brushed fur, her shoulders relaxed. When Levi began staring at her a little strangely, she pulled her hand out, afraid he’d discover her secret. But he continued to give her a funny look. Something between amusement and, well, she wasn’t sure what.
His hand rose to her face, and she flinched away. She hadn’t realized she’d taken a step until her back hit the refrigerator.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He chuckled but closed the gap between them. Pressing herself against the fridge, she recoiled as his hand caressed her cheek. She felt his thumb gently brush her skin. It was a little rough, but his touch was warm and gentle.
When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open. She wasn’t sure when she’d closed them.
Belatedly, she slapped his hand away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He showed her his thumb. It was white with cream cheese icing. “You still had cake on your face.”
His smiling eyes held hers as he sucked the icing off. Her gaze fell to his lips as he did it, watching the way his mouth moved around his thumb. The thumb that had been touching her a moment before. She stared at him as though he was licking the icing right off her body.
“You didn’t think I was going to kiss you, did you?” He looked a little incredulous.
“What? No.” Actually, she didn’t know what she’d thought. They’d met only fifteen minutes before, and he was already touching her face. Well, she supposed she touched him first. In fact, she’d sort of groomed him. But that was different.
Levi hadn’t backed off yet. “I’ve never seen someone so afraid of a kiss before.”
She scowled at him. “I didn’t think you were going to kiss me. And I’m not afraid.” Then why was she shaking, she wondered.
Zoe may have been celibate, but it wasn’t like she didn’t touch people at all. She hugged her friends and her mom, shook hands with strangers. Pigs in bars thought slapping her ass was a reasonable substitute for a cheeky pickup line. Hell, she touched herself all the time. So what did it matter if he touched her cheek?
<
br /> Levi was still standing so close, and she couldn’t stop staring at his lips now. Mentally shaking herself, she pushed him away. That’s when she caught sight of her watch.
She gasped. “Crap. We’ve only got fourteen minutes to get you ready.”
“Well then, you’d better stop trying to make out with me.”
“I’m not…” She sighed. Could he be any more exasperating? “I wouldn’t kiss you.”
“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “Challenge accepted.”
Rolling her eyes, she spun and headed for the sanctuary. She couldn’t bring herself to turn around to see if he was following, in case he mistook her flushed cheeks as an invitation of sorts. Which it wasn’t. She was simply stressed. And as the day went on, the church only seemed to absorb the afternoon heat. That was it. She was just hot. And not for Levi.
“You seem to have a pretty good handle on things,” he said. He waltzed along beside her through the shortcut to the foyer, as though they were having a casual conversation, not trying to make a wedding happen in less than fourteen minutes.
“That’s because I don’t just let things work themselves out,” she said, taking the next corner in the hallway as fast as she could without running. “That’s what a good event planner does.”
“So you don’t just do weddings? What other kinds of things do you plan?”
“Anything really,” she said distractedly, running over the list once more in her mind. “I even throw Pure Pleasure Parties on the side to sell products.”
“What kinds of products are those?” he asked.
“Sex toys.”
His footsteps faltered, and she glanced back to watch him find his footing. She grinned to herself, happy that she could catch him off-guard for a change.
“Sex toy parties?” His cheeks were slightly pink, but he was grinning, his eyes practically twinkling with curiosity.
“If it’s a party, I’m there,” she said. “I plan it all. But as of next weekend, I think I’ll be doing mostly weddings.”
“Why’s that?”
“The Wedding Expo is next weekend. It’s the best place to promote your business for the upcoming season. I hear you walk away from that event with more clients than you know what to do with.” And more than enough money for her down payment, she thought.
“Maybe I should try it out. I’m in the entertainment business.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket, typing away as they neared the nave.
“You can’t just ‘try it out,’” she said. “This kind of thing takes planning. I’ve been preparing for months. Advertisements, promotional material, pitches—”
“There,” he said. “I’m all signed up.”
She came to a stop so fast that he ran into the back of her. “You’re what?”
He showed her his phone. A message flashed across the screen: Thank you for your participation. “I’ve booked a booth at the expo.”
She gaped at him. Was this guy trying to get on her last nerve? Her emotional bottle was going to need extra emptying that night.
Shaking her head, she ducked through the doors and into the nave. Most of the guests had already been seated. The priest was waiting front and center, coughing into the sleeve of his vestment. In the corner, the organ player stretched her arthritic fingers to stay limber for her big moment. Zoe vaguely wondered if she was the same organ player that performed the wedding march at Juliet’s parents’ wedding.
They skirted around the outside of the nave, past the pews jammed with hot guests waving the decorative fans Zoe had picked up earlier. Bright colors flashed as the folded paper moved back and forth in front of their flushed faces, wafting the muggy air around.
Reverently, Zoe snuck through the sanctuary, leading Levi to the vestry where the groom and his groomsmen were waiting to take their places at the front.
She knocked softly on the door and waited for an answer. A moment later, which seemed like forever with eleven minutes to go, the best man opened the door and she entered the small room. She waved Levi inside.
After greeting Levi, the groom and his six groomsmen resumed their positions in a quiet circle. Despite the row of stained glass windows casting bright, cheerful colors on them, the scene was a grim one. They all wore expressions as though this were a funeral and not a wedding.
Zoe honed in on the groom, Owen. The rest of the party may have been somber, but he looked like he was supposed to. Like this was the best day of his life.
She approached him, automatically straightening his bow tie. “How are you feeling? Are you ready?”
“Absolutely.” He beamed. “I can’t wait for us to be husband and wife.”
She took in the euphoric look on his face and before she could stop herself, she asked, “Are you sure?”
Zoe clamped her lips shut, but it was too late. Since she’d begun wedding planning four years ago, she’d never asked a bride or groom anything like that. It appalled her that the words had slipped out. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught the groomsmen sharing a look, and she knew she wasn’t the first person to ask the question.
She wasn’t sure how she expected Owen to respond. Maybe with offense or indignation at her audacity. The look on his face changed slightly, but he was still smiling.
“Yes,” he said. “I love her. And I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with her.”
Zoe breathed a sigh of relief. “Good because she’s just about ready for you.” She patted him on the shoulder like a coach before the big game. “You don’t want to keep her waiting.” She clapped her hands. “All right, gentlemen. Take your places.”
As they filtered out, she grabbed a tux from a hook on the back of the door. She thrust it at Levi. “Here. Hurry. You’ve only got six minutes.”
“Can do.” Reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulled it over his head.
She blinked, and her eyes grew wide. Maybe the guy wasn’t as much of a slacker as she thought, because he must have worked hard to get a body like that.
He grinned at her, but she was done letting him put her off her game. She tucked that mental image away for later that night and kept a straight face as she asked, “What are you doing?”
“You said to hurry. You can stay for the rest, if you’d like.” He winked. “It only gets better.”
Zoe snorted, making a show of her so-not-impressed reaction, but she could feel the heat running its fingers up her neck. Make that down her stomach to between her thighs.
Okay, so she was impressed, but she hid it beneath her composed mask and held his eyes as though there was nothing out of the ordinary. “If I thought there was much to see, I’d stick around for the show.”
He cringed and his lips formed an “o” like he was in pain, but then he winked and reached for his fly.
There was a knock on the door, and Zoe turned reluctantly. It had been a long time since she got to see “the rest” in person. Six years to be exact. Vibrators just weren’t the same.
Natalie poked her head inside. “Sorry to interrupt, but—” She hesitated. Her eyes focused past Zoe, probably wondering what exactly she’d interrupted.
“Oh God. What now?” Zoe asked.
After tearing her eyes away from Levi—with difficulty—Natalie pulled a face. “We’re down an organ player.”
“What? She was just there. I saw her.” Zoe whipped open the door and peeked over at the organ as though she didn’t believe Natalie. But because that was just the kind of day she was having, the elderly organ player was missing.
“What happened to her?” she asked.
“She’s in the bathroom throwing up.”
“Great. Awesome.” Zoe took another deep breath and tried to remain positive. “I need to find an organ player. I can do that. No problem.”
Her fingers itched, craving the touch of Pretty Puppy. Resisting a grope in her fanny pack, she turned back to Levi and suddenly had to fight the urge to grope something else, because he was wearing nothing but a dress shirt, staring
down at the ends of the bow tie around his neck.
Zoe cleared her throat, trying to keep her eyes on his face. “Need help with that?” she asked casually.
“Depends on what you’re referring to.” His sleepy eyes narrowed as he gave her a wicked grin. “But actually, I might be able to help you.”
Zoe couldn’t help but glance down this time. The length of his shirt hid anything important, but by the way the fabric bulged at the front, she thought he’d be an excellent help. Forget carrying an emergency Fuzzy Friend around for support. She should have brought an emergency dildo.
Her eyes only lingered a second—okay, maybe two—before refocusing on his face. “And how can you help me?” Her voice became thick, layered with the double meaning.
And his response was the same. “I can play your organ.”
There was just something about his voice. Maybe it was the timbre, the warm rumble, but it made her insides melt. God, the material this guy was giving her for later. That is, until his actual meaning hit her. She shook her head, clearing her one-tracked mind.
This time, Zoe’s shock broke through her mask. “You play the organ?”
“Well, I don’t know about an organ, but I play the piano. It shouldn’t be too much of a leap.”
Her heart which had risen at first, sank a little. “Oh, well, I don’t really think it’s that easy.”
He shrugged, but smiled like he was being all heroic or something. “No big deal. I’ll give it a shot.”
She scoffed, but tried to remain patient, with only two minutes, no … make that one minute and fifty-nine seconds to go … fifty-eight … Her eyebrows rose a fraction. “No big deal? A shot?”
“Sure.” That smile, that way-too-adorable smile, brightened just a little more like the angels in that stained glass were shining down on him.
He was still struggling with the bow tie. Sighing, she began to arrange it with practiced fingers. “No offense, but the bride’s grand entrance hinges on you giving it ‘a shot.’ It actually is kind of a big deal.”
Now that they were close, she realized how tall he was. Despite her Japanese genetics, she was five-foot-eleven, and Levi had a good half-foot on her, even with her heels on.
A Wedding Tail Page 3
