by Renee Roszel
She inhaled to calm herself. “I hope you’re right.” She had a thought. “Is your actor friend here?”
“Yes. He knows what to do.” Jack tugged her toward the couch. “Why don’t you sit down? You seem shaky.” She followed him without argument and sagged onto the squeaky cushion. He joined her, placing an arm around her shoulders. “You look nice, Luce.” His breath was soft against her cheek.
She glanced his way, her smile sickly. “Sure. Me and my sale-table linen and you in your Gianni Versace chic.”
He laughed, his embrace tightening. “How’d you know that?”
She frowned. “I’ve read a few Gentlemen’s Quarterlys in my day.”
“Well, my taste in women’s clothes runs to Lucy Crosby chic.” He squeezed her affectionately, and she couldn’t help but smile. Shaking her head at him, she let out a low laugh. “What’s funny?”
She shrugged. “I was just thinking, Jack. I don’t know if I could have gone through this with anybody but you.” Her cheeks grew hot, and she knew she must be blushing. “Especially after what Helen told you about the myth.” She touched his thigh with fondness, but thought better of leaving her hand on his leg. The brief contact with the solid, male muscle, even sheathed in fabric, made her palm tingle. She hurriedly replaced her hand in her lap. Her fingers fidgeted among themselves, and she lowered her gaze to stare absently at the nervous dance they were doing.
“I feel the same way, Luce. I could only do this with you,” he murmured.
And somehow she believed him. Jack was so dear. There were very few men who would have gone this far for a friend. But the Crosby sisters knew he would crawl through fire for them. He was certainly proving that now.
“This will be a good experience,” he added. “I’ve always told you I’d only marry once.”
“So this is good practice?”
He tucked a knuckle under her chin and tipped her face up, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Practice makes perfect.”
His grin did odd, unruly things to her heart and she felt a surge of gratitude. Her dour spirits lifted slightly. Still, she couldn’t help but ask, “How did—did Desiree take all this?”
He was quiet for a long time. His expression grew thoughtful, his eyes narrowed as though perturbed. After another moment, his gaze slid to hers and he flashed a wry grin. “She’s fine with it. Desiree is a very open-minded woman.”
Lucy absorbed the news with misgivings. She didn’t know if such open-mindedness was a positive thing in a relationship. “I’d think she’d be angry. I know I would be.”
He looked squarely at her. “Really?”
She looked away, concentrating on a crack in the faded floral wallpaper. “Well, darn it, Jack. You deserve a woman who can’t stand the idea of your being in another woman’s arms. Kissing another woman—even as a favor to an old friend. I’m not sure...” She stopped, bit the inside of her cheek. What did she think she was doing, giving Jack advice on his love life?
“You’re not sure—what?” he coaxed.
She peered at him, miserable and not sure why. “Wen—it’s just that...”
Her mouth worked, but before she could form her thoughts, Elissa came into the basement. “Okay, you two lovebirds. It’s time to put on this little clambake.” The redhead looked striking in her hunter green coat dress. Its slim fit accentuated her figure, the rich color complementing her fiery hair.
She hurried to the couch and reached out as though she expected them each to take a hand. When they didn’t, she bent and grabbed them. “By the way, Jack, where have you been hiding Nate? He gets here and whoosh, you lock him away in one of the attic rooms. I know actors are odd, but...” Elissa tugged them up on their feet. “Is he going over his lines? I hope he doesn’t muff this deal. After all we’ve been through.”
Jack gave her a quick hug. “He won’t, little mother. I guarantee it.” Taking Lucy’s hand, he squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “I’ll see you upstairs.”
He walked away, grace and supple elegance marking every step. She watched him disappear around the corner.
“Hirk’s so excited.” Elissa’s comment drew Lucy’s gaze. “He’s popping his buttons with pride that we asked him to give you away. He even bought a new suit.” Lucy felt a stab of regret that their friends had to think this farce was the real thing. She gave her sister a pained look and Elissa patted her cheek. “Real wedding or not, Hirk’s having a great time. He needed the suit anyway.” Grabbing Lucy’s hand, Elissa propelled her toward the stairs.
Lucy’s mind whirled and tumbled as the ceremony began. The wedding seemed so real. She watched in awe as the fake Reverend Nate Broom spoke of the sacredness of marriage, of loving, trusting and moving through life’s trials, caring for each other and working to keep their union strong and solid.
A marriage ceremony should be such a sacred thing, not this awful sham. She felt so unhappy about what she was doing, tears shimmered in her eyes. She knew her bouquet of pink roses and baby’s breath was shaking badly, but she didn’t dare look down, fearing a guilty tear would escape.
The scent of roses filled the parlor. Damien and Helen had been sweet to provide the bright sprays of flowers that adorned the room, and to think of her bridal bouquet and Jack’s boutonniere. The parlor was transformed for the wedding, the furniture pushed against the wall to make room for a semicircle of white folding chairs with an aisle down the center.
Nate Broom stood before the hearth, now cleared of ashes and filled with a bouquet of white roses. To Lucy, the actor looked like a real minister. In his golden robe, black cassock and clerical collar, he was marvelously realistic. Except for his hair, which was a little long and shaggy for her idea of a pious man of the cloth. Still, his voice rang out, rich, deep and passionate, as he asked the questions about loving, honoring and cherishing.
Lucy did the best she could, keeping her “I do” clear of the trepidation and dejection she felt. But when Jack spoke the vows and gazed at her, she felt strangely better. He smiled at her, his eyes telegraphing a tenderness and a strength of purpose that lifted her spirits.
She had no ring for him, but when it was his turn, he slipped a wedding band on her finger. Simple, elegant, golden. She blinked down at it, then at his face. Somewhere off in the distance, she thought she heard the words, “You may kiss the bride.”
Shifting to stare at the actor, she questioned with her eyes. When he nodded, she was sure the blood had drained from her face. The wedding kiss! She’d forgotten about The Wedding Kiss. Memories of the other kiss they’d shared came roaring into her brain. She cast Jack a helpless glance, but was met by those cinnamon eyes, calming her, telling her to trust him.
He leaned close, his lips brushing hers, then he moved slightly away. This time, it was his turn to silently question her with his eyes. He was telling her that he wouldn’t do anything to upset her or rattle her, and somehow she knew that was true. Suddenly, she wanted him to kiss her again and felt herself leaning in his direction. Oddly fearless, she lifted her hands to his shoulders and drew his face to hers, gifting him with a kiss.
He accepted the boon with restraint, his mouth moving tenderly against hers. It was curious how, this time, the touch of his mouth was almost like a dream. Vaguely sensuous, elusively thrilling, but just out of reach somehow. His hands stroked along her back, coming to rest at her waist, yet there was nothing demanding or lustful about his touch. When he lifted his face away, she felt sweetly drained, curiously deprived. And a little dizzy.
Taking her hand, he led her down the aisle and whisked her into the basement.
“Whew,” he said, looking slightly flushed. “How do you feel now?”
She didn’t know what to say. She felt warm. “Was it hot upstairs to you?” she asked.
His grin held a cryptic element. “I was hot.”
She fanned herself with her bouquet. “I thought it was awfully warm, too—there toward the end.” Indicating her room, she said, “I guess I’d better get chan
ged.”
“Right. We want to be on the road as soon as we can.”
She had reached her door, but wheeled around, confused. “On what road?”
He half grinned. “Didn’t I mention it? I made reservations in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.”
“What for?”
He shrugged off his jacket, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What would Stadler think if we didn’t go on a honeymoon?”
She frowned at this new development, then peered at him, shaking her head. “Why not?” she muttered. “While we’re at it, maybe we ought to have a few kids?” She wasn’t sarcastic often, but for some reason she couldn’t stop herself from blurting that. She flinched, immediately sorry.
Jack lifted a skeptical brow, his smile slow and sexy. “I’m not sure Desiree is that open-minded.”
For once, Lucy had to agree with Jack’s French girlfriend. If she were Desiree, she certainly wouldn’t want Jack Gallagher going around having babies with...
Her cheeks sizzled at the vision that leaped to her mind—of Jack and her, tangled intimately together in Eureka Springs sheets.
“Anything wrong, Luce?” he queried, his voice low and smoky.
“No! Nothing!” She spun away and slammed her door between them.
Lucy vowed that before she left on this so-called honeymoon, she was going to have to wash her mind out with soap.
She quickly changed into white trousers and a short-sleeved sweater. For luck, she transferred the angel pin to her going-away outfit. As the couple returned upstairs, Lucy scanned Jack. He’d changed into navy trousers and a light blue shirt, and she felt a strange measure of pride in how handsome he was. Without dwelling on why, she took his hand, drawing his gaze and a surprised smile.
The reception went by in a blur and was coming to an end. Jack and Lucy circulated, visiting with guests. Luckily, Jack had had the presence of mind to suggest that wedding gifts be made in the form of donations to their friends’ favorite charities. So at least one good thing had come from this mess.
Maybe two good things, she mused, catching Stadler’s frown. She snagged his glance and gave him a superior smirk. Instead of this discouraging him as she’d expected, he moved away from the cluster of people beside the dining-room table and ambled toward her, where she was standing near the stairs. She sucked in a nervous breath and cast around for Jack. He was idling near the front door, deep in conversation with Hirk Boggs and Nate. She couldn’t get his attention.
Instinctively, she headed his way, but Stadler caught her arm before she’d made three steps. “Lucy—Lucy,” he said in that deep, beguiling tone he used so effectively. He smiled, and that darned dimple appeared. She felt a flutter in her stomach and wasn’t sure whether it was foreboding or appreciation.
“What is it, Stadler?” she asked as crisply as she could.
He took hold of her upper arms, stepping into her space. “‘I am a man more sinned against than sinning.’”
She was puzzled and grew irritated. One thing about Stadler she had never loved was his propensity for masking a point by quoting Shakespeare. Most of the time she was lost. “What do you want, Stadler?”
He grinned again, evidently sensing her unease. He had the instincts of a jungle cat, able to smell fear. His cunning smile altered before her eyes to become the expression of a reproachful parent. “What you’re doing is foolish, Lucy-pet.”
She. panicked at his accusation, frightened that he’d figured out the ruse.
“This is a rebound romance. It won’t work. You’re deluding yourself if you think it will.”
She had opened her mouth to defend the lie, but thank heaven he’d been true to form and barged on ahead. Clearly, he didn’t have any proof that the marriage was a fake. His ego was talking again. She inhaled, managing a smile. “I don’t know why you should care, Stadler.” She indicated his new fiancée with a nod. The petite woman was easy to spot with her pink stick of hair and her bright purple dress that looked like it had been fed through a shredder. Lucy noticed that the young woman no longer wore her nose clip. Apparently, Stadler had removed it again. “You have Sareena,” she reminded him.
He gave his fiancée a cursory glance, then his plum eyes settled on Lucy, his gaze intent. “Lucy, I’m forced to admit something to you,” he said in an agonized whisper. “I love you, but I can’t afford you.” He gritted his teeth, inhaling through them. “Don’t you understand? Sareena’s daddy is a wealthy man. He’s promised to fund the play I’m writing. I’ll also star in it. I didn’t want to have to admit all this. I didn’t think you’d go to such lengths to try to stay away from me.” Looking tormented, he shook his head, his eyes closed. Lucy wondered how much of it was an act. “Don’t you see?” he insisted in a low moan. “Sareena is my ticket. She wants to be a singer, so I’m here keeping her happy, working on my play when I can.” He stopped, swallowed visibly. “And wanting you desperately—because you are my true love.”
“I don’t believe you,” she cried, her heart pounding. She was disgusted by his admission. Part of her believed him, but part of her thought it was just another lie to keep her dangling. “You’re terrible, Stadler.”
“A man does what he must in this life, Lucy-pet. The world isn’t always fair to lovers.” He cupped Lucy’s chin in his hand. “I know you love me, and one day you’ll come running back to me. People can enjoy each other without marriage. You know what Shakespeare says about—”
“Nope, Tinsley, and we don’t give a damn.” They both turned at the sound of Jack’s voice as he closed in on them. “Here’s a quote for you, old buddy.” He took hold of Stadler’s arm and firmly separated his hand from Lucy’s face. “‘The cost of living is going up and the chance of living is going down.’” Releasing his grip on Stadler’s arm, his lips curled in a deadly grin. “Flip Wilson said that. And I’ll prove he was right, at least where you’re concerned, if I ever catch you insulting my wife with your unwanted attentions again.”
Stadler recoiled, rubbing his arm. “I was not insulting her.” He turned to Lucy, scowling. “Was I, Lucy-pet?”
She stared at Stadler’s calculated expression. It was as though he was telling her she had to defend him. Fury burst to life inside her. How dare he? How dare he think he still had such a hold on her? She glanced at Jack, who was watching her. She thought she saw hope in his eyes. The look stirred something in her and she swirled back on Stadler. “Yes—yes, you were insulting me.” To emphasize her irritation, she popped him in the stomach, drawing a groan. She didn’t wait around to see his expression. Taking Jack’s arm, she tugged him away.
He chuckled. “I thought I was the only person you punched.”
“I made an exception in his case. He was being a total jerk. You wouldn’t believe what he said.” Her face blazing with a mixture of guilt and liberation, she peeked at Jack. He was grinning at her. “Besides, I was afraid if I didn’t punch him, you would.”
His chuckle rang again, strong and deep. “The lady reads minds.”
The pleasant sound was infectious, and she smiled, towing him farther away from Stadler to a place where they were alone. “I need to say goodbye to my sisters,” she whispered, “then we’ll go. And thanks.” She didn’t add that she wasn’t sure what she might have done if he hadn’t come along. The touch of Stadler’s hands, his passionate vow of love, still had a baffling effect on her emotions. She seemed to teeter between wanting to strangle him and—and... She cursed herself. Would she ever get her head on straight again?
Jack surveyed her in silence. It seemed as though he understood her emotional turmoil. He squeezed her hand. “Thanks for your thanks, Luce.” Releasing her, he added, “I’ll get our interference ready.”
He started to walk away, then paused, his glance connecting with hers again. His lashes drifted down like dark lace as he scanned her hair and her face. A heartbeat later, he lowered his head, closing the distance between them. When his lips settled against hers, any rational thoughts she might hav
e had dissolved into dreamy bits. Though his kiss was brief, Lucy experienced an intimacy in the deed that stunned her.
As he straightened, he slipped his hands into his pockets, his grin wry. “For show,” he explained under his breath, then left her to go about his task.
After a dull-witted couple of heartbeats, Lucy regained herself and hustled Elissa and Helen into the kitchen, giving them each a hug. Elissa laughed. “And thanks for aiming your bouquet at my face. It was either catch it or be blinded. But I don’t see myself getting married any time soon. I’m too cantankerous for most men.”
Lucy kissed the redhead’s cheek. “You’re too much woman for most men. I have a feeling the right one will come along one of these days.”
Helen reached up to smooth back a stray hair from Lucy’s face and tuck it behind her ear. “You have a good time, you and Jack.” Her smile was almost sad. “I still think...” She shrugged, crushing Lucy in a tight hug. “Well, you know what I think.”
Once Helen had stepped away, Elissa took Lucy’s hand and led her toward the party. “It’s time for us to help you and Jack sneak out.” She gave her sister a wicked grin. “And if anything—happens—between you two in that town, so famous for honeymoons, don’t fret about it. Watching you up there exchanging vows, even fake ones, I thought you kids made a perfect couple.”
Elissa had never been particularly romantic, so her little speech was wildly out of character. Lucy shook her head, grinning. “I feel better with your permission. My plan was to rip Jack’s clothes off at the very first stop sign.”
With her sisters laughing, they reentered the party where Jack and Damien were coaching the guests in the escape plan.
The scheme worked perfectly. Hirk was tall like Jack, and with his coat held up to mask his homely face, and with well-wishers crowding around, throwing blinding amounts of birdseed at the media, they managed to keep the press safely away. Nobody could swear it wasn’t Jack getting into the hired limousine.
