Wild With You

by Layla Hagen

  Amber ran her fingers over each table and inspected the various flower arrangements, nodding and chatting with Lori.

  "Graham, Matt, which ones are your favorite flower arrangements?" Amber asked.

  The arrangements all looked the same to me, but I knew better than to voice that opinion. "They’re all great."

  "Oh, I see. You're going to be just as helpful as you were with the dress. Matt?"

  Matt slid me a glance that clearly said Help. I could use some help myself at this very moment. I didn't know a thing about flowers. I'd signed up for tasting food, something I was good at. I didn't even know what kind of flowers these were. I recognized roses, and what I thought might be orchids, and that was it.

  "Amber, I suggest we go with your gut feeling. In my experience, the first choice is always the best one," Lori said, saving my bacon.

  Amber tilted her head, glancing between two arrangements for a few seconds, before saying, "Okay, let's go with the orchids. And I'll take the light green and gold tablecloths."

  Lori tapped her iPad, making notes. "Excellent. If it's okay with everyone, I'll ask for the appetizers."

  There was a general hum of agreement, and Amber, Matt, and I sat down.

  "I'll be in the main room of the restaurant," Gigi said. "In case you change your mind about the flowers during the tasting."

  After she left, the servers brought the appetizers. Lori stood between Amber and Matt, pointing to the plates. "We have a selection of salmon and dill sauce on a bed of asparagus. Next to it is tuna with black pepper crust. For the guests who don't like fish, they can opt for the roast beef with béarnaise sauce. And of course, we have a vegan option."

  Even though I was starving, I forced myself to take small bites, so I could actually taste the food and give my opinion on it, not just scarf it all down. It was no surprise that it all tasted like it cost a million bucks, even though it hadn't. I'd already seen the prices. Lori had kept her word of delivering the best quality at the best rates.

  "Lori, I can't possibly eat all of this on my own," Amber said, "or we'll have to go back to the store and have my dress fitted again. Come on. Share my plate."

  Lori hesitated, but she'd talked with so much gusto about the food that I was sure she'd love to try it. I stood and brought a chair from the next table, wedging it between Amber's and mine, not giving her the chance to sit between Matt and Amber. The waiter who was in charge of our group immediately brought an empty plate and cutlery, and Lori caved.

  Amber forked some food onto the plate. When Lori dipped the asparagus in the béarnaise sauce, she scooted to the edge of her chair, and her skirt rode up her legs high enough to reveal toned thighs. They were mouth-watering. I clasped the fork tighter to keep myself from touching her. Lori caught the hem of her skirt, tugging it down.

  "Well, if there's one thing our guests won't be able to complain about, it's the food," Amber said, rubbing a palm over her belly after the main course.

  "We won't give the guests the chance to complain about anything," Lori assured her, iPad in hand once again, even though she hadn't finished eating. "So, we've got down the menu, the flowers, and the tablecloths. Cake's coming up in a few minutes."

  "Okay. But I want to go outside first. I need fresh air. It's getting stuffy in here. I don't want to risk getting sick."

  "I'll come with you," Matt said.

  As the two of them left, Lori started typing on her iPad. "Sorry to be antisocial, but I want to write down everything we discussed during the meal while it's fresh in my mind."

  "I get it."

  After she finished writing her notes, she pulled up the website of an upcoming concert, pressing her lips together.

  "You a fan?" I asked.

  "My son is. I wanted to get him tickets, but they were sold out in three minutes after sales opened. I kept hoping they'd put some additional ones on sale, but no luck. I have my entire family pulling strings."

  "It's your lucky day."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I have two tickets, and I don't plan on going. I'll have them sent to you."

  "That would make Milo's month. Year, probably. Are you sure? Why don't you plan on going?"

  "Not a fan."

  "I’ll take them. Let me know how much they were and I'll transfer the money to you."

  "No need. I got them as a gift. I'll have someone at the club deliver them to you."

  "Thanks. I appreciate it."

  She pulled up her calendar app. Hell, that looked like a nightmare. She was close enough that I could see the entries in detail. Those marked with red seemed work-related. Those in green seemed to mark activities she'd planned with her son (soccer practice, soccer game, watching Scooby Doo, sleepover—Jeremy comes over; make lasagna, quality time—activity TBD).

  "You're thorough," I said, more to myself. "I've never seen anyone schedule their free time in so much detail."

  "I forget things if I don't do this. Easiest way to keep track of Milo's schedule too."

  "You spend a lot of time with him.”

  “I try.” She shrugged, as if it was normal. But I'd witnessed firsthand what not trying felt like, so I knew exactly how special it was, how special she was. She brought up the wedding week on her calendar.

  "This is what the schedule looks like in the three days prior to the wedding. The company we're renting the tent from will need one day to set it up. The next day, I'm taking care of all the decorations. Only the flowers and the chairs for the ceremony will be delivered on the wedding day, but I want the rest to be ready the day before. Is that okay for you? It means you'll have people milling around for two days before the wedding. I can squeeze everything in one day if it's too much trouble."

  "I don't mind. I'm at the house only in the evening, anyway."

  She nodded, absently rubbing the side of her neck with one hand. Was the neck a sweet spot for her? If I placed open-mouthed kisses there, would she moan? If I bit lightly, would she arch for me, beg for more? The wild desire to discover all her sweet spots slammed into me. I looked away from her neck and met her eyes. Her pupils had dilated a notch. Her breath was coming out faster. She clasped her iPad with both hands.

  "Right, so the tent will be dismantled and shipped off the day after the wedding. I'll be there to supervise everything."

  She pointed on the screen at the schedule for the wedding and the day after. The night of the wedding was marked red until four o'clock in the morning, and then red again from seven to eleven on Sunday.

  "You don't have to come back so early on Sunday," I said. "You can have everything shipped back on Monday; I don't care."

  "Oh, but the tent company does. They want that tent back before lunch."

  "Can't you have someone else oversee it? You're working the night before."

  "My assistants work every other Sunday. My turn this time."

  She wanted to drive forty minutes, in the dark, after a twenty-hour workday. It wasn't safe. It was madness, and I wasn't going to allow it. Not in a million years.

  "I'll make you a deal. Sleep at my house after the wedding. It's not safe for you to drive back that late. You'll be tired."

  She set the iPad on the table and shook her head. "I've done this before."

  "When the wedding was in the city, I assume."

  "Well, yes. I've had two out of town and spent the night at a local hotel, but your house is just outside Santa Monica."

  "How long does it take to reach your place without traffic?"

  "Forty minutes."

  "You'll get about two hours of sleep."

  "More like one and a half," she admitted. "But I'm used to it."

  "Driving when you’re tired isn’t smart."

  She rolled her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. "Graham, it's fine."

  "It's not fine," I countered, moving my chair until I was so close to her that I could smell her perfume. Sweet and spicy. Why was she so stubborn? I had an inkling about what might change her mind. I was
figuring her out.

  "What if something happened to you? What about your son?"

  "Oh, you're good. I'll give you that."

  "I'm guessing he'll have a sitter for the night anyway?"

  "He'll be at my sister's."

  "Good. And you'll sleep at my house."

  She parked her hands on her hips. "I did not agree. We're discussing the idea."

  "Tell me the downsides."

  "It's not how things are done."

  "I don't give a fuck about how things are done."

  "It's not professional. I don't want to be in Matt and Amber's way."

  I didn't understand what she meant about Matt and Amber, but I wanted to set one thing straight.

  "I am extending you the invitation, and I won't back down until I get a yes."

  "Are we really fighting on this?"

  "We're negotiating."

  I leveled her with my stare, perching a hand on the headrest of her seat. When she moved her hands from her hips into her lap, her bare upper arm grazed against my forearm. A current of awareness passed between us. It went straight below my belt. The chemistry between us was crazy. Maybe having her under my roof wasn't the best idea.

  Her voice was a little uneven when she said, "Thank you for the invitation. I'll take you up on it."

  "Perfect."

  I was backing up my chair when Amber and Matt came back in.

  "I'm ready for the cake," Amber announced.

  As we tasted the different options, I paid more attention to Lori than the cake. She was pulling me deeper under her spell. I felt like I didn't even have a choice. She took notes while we voiced our opinions, and then we all got up to leave since we'd covered everything.

  "We're also going to need transportation after the party," Matt said as we were about to exit the room.

  "I already arranged that. All the guests are going to be taken care of."

  "For ourselves," Matt continued. "We're going to sleep at an airport hotel. Our flight leaves at 6:00 a.m., and crossing the city in the morning is a bad idea."

  "Oh, I'd been under the impression you'd be staying with— never mind. I'll arrange transportation, of course."

  Now I understood her comment about being in the way. She'd thought Amber and Matt were sleeping at my house after the wedding. She slung her bag over her shoulder and only gave me a smile before leaving. A very small, very quick smile. I'd have given anything to know what went through her mind when she realized we'd be alone that night.

  Chapter Seven

  Lori

  Amber turned out to be one of my favorite brides. She was quick to decide and stuck to her decisions. Once we'd pegged down the invitations, the menu, the flowers, and the general decoration scheme, she relaxed.

  I'd been terrified she'd come up with outlandish requests. Honestly, I was still daunted by the possibility. We had one week left until the wedding. Plenty of time for her to hop on Pinterest and discover that some brides wanted rose petal canons for their weddings and whatnot. However, either Amber didn't know about Pinterest, or she was better at resisting temptation than the rest of us mortals. But four days before the wedding, she did pull a number on me.

  "Can we still whip up a rehearsal dinner?"

  "Oh? What made you change your mind?"

  "My parents insist. My best friends are also arriving that day, and it would give me a chance to catch up with them. Can you take care of it? Is it too much work?"

  "I'll do it. Don't you worry about a thing." Most brides arranged their own rehearsal dinner, but with the commission I was getting, I couldn't say no.

  The only issue was that I had to ask Val to keep Milo at her house for that night too, in addition to the wedding night. I knew my sister wouldn't mind, but I still felt guilty for having to ask her. I called Val as I approached my florist's shop. I had an appointment to discuss arrangements for another wedding. Val picked up right away, so I lingered in front of the shop to talk to her.

  "Hi, sis. What's up?" she asked.

  "Hi, Val. Listen, I'll make this quick. This weekend's bride decided that she wants a rehearsal dinner after all."

  "That means I get my lovely nephew for an extra night?"

  "Is that okay?"

  "Sure."

  "Thanks, Val. You're the best. And I'll have to skip Friday dinner. But I promise I'll make up for it."

  "Why don't you drop Milo off earlier? I'm trying to work shorter hours on Fridays, and knowing you will drop by will be a great incentive."

  Val was a great preacher about work-life balance, about taking time for yourself. In reality, the only time Val had taken an extended vacation had been when she'd been forced to, because she'd been in an accident that left her with a concussion, broken ribs, and a broken leg. However, she was trying to cut back on her hours, and I was happy to help.

  "That sounds great."

  "I'll ask Hailey to come early too. We can do girly stuff. Paint our nails, make you pretty for the rehearsal dinner."

  "I'm the planner, not a guest."

  "You can still look pretty."

  "Are you implying I'm not pretty unless you and Hailey work your magic on me?" I teased.

  "I did not say that."

  "You're not denying it either."

  "Where would the fun be in that?"

  "Should I be afraid of what you have in store for me?"

  "Always."

  After hanging up, I added the rehearsal dinner to my calendar. I loved the spike of adrenaline that came with pulling off the perfect wedding on such short notice, even though I was so busy I could barely tell my ass from my elbow. I'd also had two corporate events this week.

  When I first went into this business, corporate events were my bread and butter. It was easy money, but it was boring work and I needed a new challenge. I'd always loved weddings, and after attending a bunch of them, courtesy of all our Bennett cousins marrying in the span of a few years, I took the plunge.

  Now, I still did a few corporate events per month, but weddings made up most of my business. They were more work than corporate events, but I loved them. Plus, they brought in more revenue, which meant I could offer more to Milo. His college fund was growing nicely.

  Later that day, while I was waiting for my next client to show up, I received an e-mail from Graham. I was sitting on a bench, slurping a cherry smoothie with too much agave syrup, watching the gigantic palm trees sway in the wind. Despite having lived in LA my entire life, the sight of the palm trees instantly brought on a vacation mood. From the bush to my right, a whiff of lavender reached me. It was a particularly relaxing moment, but the second I saw Graham's name pop up in my inbox, my heart rate went off the charts. This happened so often over the past few days that I was starting to feel silly. He'd e-mailed me the tickets to the concert. I could either print them out or show them directly on the screen of my smartphone. I immediately replied to thank him.

  From: Graham Frazier

  To: Lori Connor

  My assistant had an electronic version of the tickets. They’re attached. Have fun.

  From: Lori Connor

  To: Graham Frazier

  Thank you so much! If you change your mind about payment, let me know. I'd be happy to buy them off you.

  From: Graham Frazier

  To: Lori Connor

  I do want payment.

  I scrolled farther, but that was all his e-mail said. I opened the attachment with the tickets to see if the price was on them, but it wasn't. When I closed the attachment, I saw that Graham had sent another e-mail.

  From: Graham Frazier

  To: Lori Connor

  Not monetary. I'd like to cook for you and your son one evening :)

  I reread twice, didn’t understand, then shot him an e-mail for clarification.

  From: Lori Connor

  To: Graham Frazier

  How is that payment? Means more work for you.

  From: Graham Frazier

  To: Lori Connor

  T
old you cooking relaxes me. Especially when I'm in great company. Think about it.

  From: Lori Connor

  To: Graham Frazier

  I will.

  From: Graham Frazier

  To: Lori Connor

  You can't say no, though. It's payment for the tickets, remember?

  I laughed but didn't reply. When my client arrived, I had to make an extra effort to concentrate on our discussion. She wanted a vintage wedding, and I couldn't recall all the themes off the top of my mind. My thoughts kept drifting to Graham and his invitation. What was happening here exactly?

  Chapter Eight

  Graham

  "Just a few more. We'll be done quickly, I promise," the photographer said. The team's annual calendar shoot was about to wrap up. Usually I didn't attend, but this year Amber, as our PR and social media manager, had talked me into being in the calendar.

  "You did well for your first photo shoot," Jennifer said, joining me on the couch where I'd sat for the past ten minutes.

  She was Amber's assistant. Since Amber was at my house with Lori, putting up decorations in the tent, Jennifer was in charge. I'd wanted to head out the second my portion was over, but the photographer insisted I stayed until the end, in case she needed to reshoot something.

  "I can't believe Amber talked me into this."

  "Polls don't lie. Our Facebook fans voted for you to be in the calendar," she said. Amber had told me that before. What she'd failed to tell me was that they'd voted for the shirtless Graham option. I'd only found out when the photographer said, “Shirt off please.”

  "Some heads-up about the shirt would have been good."

  "But then you would have said no."

  Smartass. Like I didn’t have better things to do than take my shirt off for the camera. As the owner of the club, I was a jack-of-all-trades. I was informed about all the activities, the future directions, and I chaired most meetings. One of my main tasks was setting up the annual planning and overseeing the execution. I was also in charge of player transfers.