"Audrey? Audrey, are you there?"
She held the phone like a walkie-talkie she'd seen the night before in a late-night rerun of Star Trek. "Yes, I'm here, Scotty. Now either beam me up, or quit bothering me. And Kat? Can you change the ring? Apparently, it sounds like God."
"I can't change the ringtone remotely, but—"
"I have to go now, Scotty. But only use this thing in an emergency, okay? It's annoying."
"Here we are. Terminal three."
She blinked, and a lone remnant of a tear wound its way down the curve of her face and dropped off her chin. Brushing its path dry with the back of her hand, she tossed the cell phone into her bag and inhaled sharply before cranking open the door and stepping out.
J.R. pulled off the black helmet, instinctively running a hand through his mane of shaggy brown hair, shaking it out. He glanced down at the CL Max helmet and noticed a tiny nick in the polycarbonate shell.
So much for superior quality, he thought as he unzipped the cuffs of his leather jacket and pulled off the gloves. I paid a hundred and fifty bucks for this helmet just so this wouldn't happen.
He paused to tuck the helmet between his knees while he pulled off his gloves and stuffed them into the pocket of his leather jacket. He took another close look at the nick, then ran his hand over the flip-up shield before fitting the helmet under his arm and stalking through the brass-plated glass door of The Tanglewood Inn.
His brother Devon had called him early that morning to ask him to come straight to The Tanglewood rather than meeting up at the house, and J.R. had been glad for the change in plans. He hadn't been back in Atlanta for a while now, but he looked forward to catching up with the people he'd met there on his last pass-through with Russell.
Carly saw him first, and she hopped to her feet and rushed toward the entrance of the restaurant. With her honey-blonde hair pulled back into a messy little bun at the back of her head and her glistening blue eyes dancing, his brother's fresh-faced bride-to-be curled her arms around his neck and placed several kisses on his cheek.
"I'm so happy you've arrived safely!" she exclaimed. "You and that motorcycle of yours, well, we just never stop worrying. Devon has been itching to see you!" She looped her arm through his and led him inside.
It struck him funny that Devon and Carly worried about him riding his Harley when there had been so many more pertinent safety concerns with which to concern themselves. J.R. had to admit that relief over someone returning to Atlanta in one piece was something he knew all too well. He hadn't seen his little brother since before he left for his last tour of duty, his second in Afghanistan in just two years.
Devon stood up as he approached the table, the same old twinkle in his eye. As J.R. drew his brother into an embrace, he exhaled for what felt like the first time in months. Relief washed over him, and he smacked Devon's back twice. "Good to see you, bro."
"Good to be seen."
Truer words had never been spoken, and J.R. sent up a quick prayer of thanks for the fact that his brother had come home from war virtually unscathed. Physically, anyway.
"Thanks for doing this, man."
J.R. chuckled. "There's no one else going to be your best man."
"J.R., I want you to meet my wedding planner, Sherilyn Drummond."
Her familiar laughter took the form of music, and J.R. rounded the table and took a much smaller Sherilyn than he remembered into his arms.
"Oh, of course! You two have met."
"How's Dr. Andy doing?" he asked her.
"Wonderful," she sang. "You have to come to the house while you're in town. We'd love to have you over, maybe after these two leave for their honeymoon."
"Sounds like a plan. Maybe we'll get a good snowstorm out of season so we can barbecue."
Sherilyn's turquoise blue eyes glistened and her laughter warmed him to his soul. She tossed her reddish hair over her shoulder before she sat down again.
"You look amazing," he told her.
"Doesn't she though?" Carly added. "She's lost forty pounds!"
"Forty-three," Sherilyn corrected with a grin. "But no one's counting."
"Well, you were already a stunner, but—"
His words were sliced in two by the high-pitched shriek Carly released, and everyone's attention followed her as she raced from the table and into the arms of . . . a knockout!
The platinum blonde pin-up girl had curves that pushed the boundaries of her straight skirt. A thick leather lace-up belt cinched her small waist, and the thin fabric of the ruffled blouse tried—and failed—to camouflage all that God Himself had endowed.
"Who is that?" J.R. whispered to Devon.
"That's Audrey."
J.R. had heard the name often, but it had passed without much notice. Had he realized the embodiment of two simple syllables looked like this—
"Come and meet everyone!" Carly cried. As she dragged the vision toward them, J.R.'s own pulse began to thump in his ears. "Audrey Regan," she announced. "This is Sherilyn Drummond, my wedding planner."
"It's such a pleasure!" Sherilyn told her. "I love your designs."
"You know them?" Audrey asked with a chuckle.
"Of course I know them. You're a genius."
Audrey grabbed Sherilyn's hand and shook it vigorously. Tossing a cute little glance back at Carly, she wrinkled her turned-up nose and added, "I like her."
J.R. couldn't take his eyes off her.
Carly giggled. "And you know Dev."
Audrey planted a kiss on Devon's lucky cheek while J.R. took a deep breath and pulled himself together.
"And this is Devon's brother, J.R."
"Hi, J.R."
He had no idea what he said in reply, only that the pin-up's light brown eyes reminded him suddenly of a sugar crumble on top of a tart apple crisp.
"Let's all sit down and order some lunch," Carly suggested.
"And then the ladies can go upstairs to the suite and admire my dress!"
Audrey felt a surge of blessed reprieve as she, Carly, and Sherilyn left the restaurant. Devon's brother made her uncomfortable the way he kept gawking at her that way. Did he think she hadn't noticed? While everyone else focused on the conversation and the marvelous food, J.R. Hunt had fixated unapologetically on every move Audrey made. At one point, she'd dabbed the corner of her mouth with the linen napkin, thinking perhaps a forkful of spinach salad had missed its mark. When he wasn't deterred, she compulsively ran her tongue over her front teeth in hopes of dislodging some stray piece of food that might have held the guy's attention in a vice grip.
"I think J.R. was quite taken with you," Carly said as they rode the elevator up to the second floor.
"I noticed that too," Sherilyn added.
"Please."
"Aud, J.R. is a catch!"
She groaned. "Please."
"No, she's right," Sherilyn told her. "He's a wonderful guy."
"Did you put her up to this?" Audrey asked Carly. "Because this is not what I'm here for."
"I know, but if—"
"But nothing," she interrupted. "Enough!"
Carly sighed, exchanging a look with Sherilyn that irritated Audrey to no end. She was always doing that. Since the time they were in the first grade together, Caroline Madison could push Audrey's buttons like no one else. And yet somehow
they'd managed to remain best friends from then to now. She had no idea how.
The bridal suite at The Tanglewood Inn, tucked behind double oak doors with large brass handles, smelled sweetly inviting. Fragrant bouquets of roses and hydrangea in low crystal vases graced the round claw-footed dining table as well as the oval coffee table in front of the green chenille sofa. A large arch with a sliding door of etched glass ushered the way into the adjacent room. A breathtaking king-size canopy bed draped in sheer violet fabric hugged the corner of the room at an angle, set against muted moss-green walls and flanked by antique nightstands with crystal knobs. The bellman had left Audrey's luggage against the foot of the bed in a neat
little line.
"Good grief," Audrey said on a sigh. "This is lovely."
"Isn't it?" Carly cried. "Don't tell Devon, but this room is why I convinced him that we should live apart for three days before the wedding. Isn't it exquisite? And we're going to have so much fun here until the wedding. It'll be like living in Barbie's Dream House for two days!"
Audrey chuckled; such a Carly thing to say.
"You sit down out here," she told Audrey, her finger wiggling toward the sofa. "Sherilyn will help me get into the dress, and I'll make an entrance."
"Shouldn't Sherilyn sit out here?" Audrey asked with a grin. "I mean, I've seen the dress."
"Oh, so has Sherilyn!"
Sherilyn nodded, one side of her mouth turning upward in a lopsided grin. "Three times already."
"Besides, I made some additions. I want to spring it on you!"
"Additions?"
"So just sit down—"
"You changed the dress?"
"—and I'll go put it on for you and—"
"Caroline! You changed the dress?
"Not really changed it. Just . . . enhanced it."
The horror rose slowly, like a pot coming to a boil on the stove. Leave it to Carly to have the audacity to revamp the wedding dress Audrey had designed! Her eyes darted to Sherilyn, and the pretty redhead shook her head reassuredly.
"It's okay," she mouthed. "Really. It's okay."
"Just sit down and make yourself comfortable," Carly told her. "There are drinks in the mini-fridge. And I'll be out in two shakes."
Resisting the urge to press her nose against the glass door standing between them, Audrey stalked over to the window and looked out over a stunning brick courtyard.
Enhanced it. She enhanced it.
She slowly paced back and forth along the length of the large window, breathing deeply and exhaling in controlled little bursts.
Carly had never respected Audrey's skills as a designer, had she? Audrey began to recount the myriad enhancements she'd made to Barbie doll gowns and one-of-a-kind prom dresses over the years.
"Please, oh please," she'd begged the night Carly had called to tell her she and Devon were getting married. "You just have to design my wedding dress, Aud. You have to! We're more like sisters than best friends, aren't we? How could I walk into a bridal shop and buy someone else's design to wear on the most important day of my life? I mean, really, Aud. Will you do it? Please?"
All of her alarm bells had sounded in those seconds between the request and Audrey's reply, but she'd ignored them.
"Of course I will."
It's my own fault, after all, isn't it? I knew she would prance all over my design, the way she always has. She's probably cut off the sleeves and used the fabric to make a longer train, just like she did to Barbie's gown when she married Ken on Granny's sun porch when we were eight!
"Are you ready?" Carly called out from the bedroom.
"Not at all," Audrey replied dryly. "But come on out. Let me have a look at what you've done."
Sherilyn slid open the glass door and emerged first, rushing to Audrey's side tentatively while Carly used both hands to beat out a drumroll against the wall.
"Ready?"
"Get out here!"
And then there she was, wide-eyed and hopeful, standing before Audrey.
"Well?"
Audrey blinked, and instinctively smacked her hand over her mouth with a gasp. "Caroline Madison!" she managed between her fingers.
Audrey needed to sit. Fortunately, Sherilyn pushed a chair underneath her before she went down.
"It's okay, isn't it, Aud? You don't mind?"
"Are you all right?" Sherilyn whispered. "Um, can I get you some water?"
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Always the Wedding Planner, Never the Bride Page 26
