“No thanks,” she smiled. “I’m glad you’re home, Matty.”
He slung an arm around her shoulders and she laid her head on his shoulder, a brief comforting embrace. “You better go get your tux.”
Chapter Thirteen
After her meeting with Shelby, Erin headed upstairs. She’d spent far longer sightseeing than she’d planned this morning, distracted by the gorgeous Matthew. She pressed the pads of her fingers to her lips, where she could still feel the imprint of his lips against hers. Even though he was the son of her client, she connected with Matthew. And the wedding was Saturday, all she had to do was keep her hormones in check until after that, and then, maybe… she could see where this might lead.
Matthew didn’t want more than a quick fling. Acting on advice from well-meaning friends, she’d tried to do casual a time or two. It wasn’t enough for her. She longed for more with Matthew after that one delicious taste she’d indulged in today. If she wanted so much more after one kiss, what would she feel like after she’d indulged in more? No, better not to risk it. Better to keep her heart locked away and on a shelf where there was no danger of it getting broken or battered again. Erin wasn’t the type to indulge in a quick fling.
As she lay on the bed, thinking about Matthew when she should have been working, her phone buzzed in her hand. “Lauren, how are things going there?”
“Got it all under control,” Lauren answered, her tone breezy and light. “So….Matthew Westbrook, huh?”
“What about Matthew Westbrook?”
“Well, he’s quite a looker from these photos. Why is that statue waving?” Erin forgot, in her ever-increasing quest for efficiency, she’d set her photos to update social media immediately. Though they’d only snapped the one photo together, Matthew took quite a few of her today. Lauren would figure out how much time she’d spent with him from that. She rubbed her forehead and sat up. Time to get back to the real world.
“It’s quite a story. She’d wave to the ships as they entered Savannah’s port and no one knows why. Some say her love was a sailor who never came home. Matthew said she was bored but…” Erin pulled out her miniature statue and held it in her hand, her palm warming the cool metal. Carefully, she put it on her bedside table and laid back down to stare at it. Maybe Matthew was worth the risk after all.
“Erin? You’re babbling. Tell me about Matthew.”
“Nothing happened.” Erin trilled out a laugh that sounded fake even to her own ears, clapped her hand over her mouth, and then laughed again.
“You giggled,” Lauren said, suspicion sharpening her tone. “Have you been drinking?”
“Just a pink lady at lunch.”
“A lunchtime drink? Wow, this Matthew has you shattering all your Erin rules, doesn’t he?” Erin nodded. “He’s really cute in this picture. And is that his arm around your shoulder?”
“We just took a picture together. No big deal,” Erin said. “He’s in the wedding. Son of a client.”
“You slept with him!” Lauren accused. “And you didn’t tell me!”
“We kissed,” Erin corrected and then cursed herself for spilling more information than she wanted to. She’d fallen right into Lauren’s trap. Her friend squealed gleefully. “Nothing more.”
“How many times?”
Erin pressed her fingers to her lips again and let her eyes fall shut, thinking of Matthew. It was nice to be girly for a few seconds and indulge her crush. Just a little crush…that was all.
“Are you going to kiss him again?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” Erin sat up and resolutely looked away from the little waving girl statue. “No. I am not going to kiss him again.”
“Wanna bet?” Lauren said. “Oh my. Sounds like Savannah is turning out to be interesting after all.”
“How was the bachelorette party?”
“Oh fine. I mistook the photographer for a stripper, but all’s well that ends well.” Lauren huffed out a laugh.
“He must have been quite a looker.”
“Not bad. I barely noticed,” Lauren said quickly. “So about the…”
“Lauren,” Erin said sternly. “You remember our non-fraternization policy, right? And you remember why—” When Lauren first started working for her, her friend viewed the groomsman as something of an all-the-men-she-could-eat buffet which led to some awkward scenes. Erin had to establish a few ground rules before things smoothed out. Erin eyed the waving girl statue. Now she might be in need of the non-fraternization policy herself.
“Relax. I got this. And if you want my advice about that adorable Mr. Westbrook…”
“I don’t.”
“If I were you, I’d ignore that non-fraternization policy, just this once. An exception—”
“That proves the rule.” Erin slipped the tiny statue into the bedside drawer and shut it firmly. “I gotta go pick up my bridesmaid’s dress. Call me if you need anything.”
Matthew walked into the bridal boutique at just after four. It was like walking into a confection. Dresses, shrouded in plastic, hung on recessed racks on each of the lavender and cream striped walls. An enormous crystal chandelier made the beaded bridal gowns glimmer and sparkle. The thick carpet muffled his footsteps, as Vivaldi poured from hidden speakers. Behind a display of a heavily beaded wedding gown with a matching veil, fussy sofas ringed around a coffee table laden with glossy bridal magazines.
He’d accidentally walked into hell.
An older woman, dressed all in severe black, her dark hair streaked with white and fastened in a tight bun, bustled over and led him into a back room, done in soothing neutrals, dominated by a large three way mirror in front of a carpeted dais. She ushered him to a tiny settee, next to a gorgeous, sweet-smelling arrangement of cream and pink roses, and assured him she’d be right back. He sat, taking up more room than necessary and stared at himself in the mirror.
He wanted to stay busy, so he didn’t have to think. In his mind’s eye, he saw Alex’s furious face, his mama’s stern disapproval, and his sister’s shy, hopeful smile. Somehow, accidentally, he’d failed them all. After his divorce, he’d hidden away from his family, licking his wounds, unable and unwilling to come home and face his failure. By salving his wounded pride, he’d unintentionally sacrificed his family. He raked his hand through his hair and glared at his fractured reflection in the mirror, trying to think of a reasonable next step.
Nothing came to mind.
Erin walked in, a purple bridesmaid’s dress tossed over her arm. She paused by the door and then smiled at him. “If I’m interrupting your brooding, I can come back.”
He shook his head, happy to see her, despite himself. At least he had one friend in Savannah. “Come to try on your dress?”
“I’m so short—excuse me, petite—that I always have to have it hemmed. You’re here to be fitted too?”
“I guess.” Matthew tried to smile at her. She tilted her head, watching him with perceptive blue eyes. He dropped his gaze to his hands, still feeling miserable.
“You okay?”
“Alex told me he didn’t want me in the wedding.” He swallowed hard. He hadn’t expected that to hurt as bad as it had. Most men would be relieved not to have to dress up in the tux and smile for the camera. But, last night, when he’d been asked to be just a groomsman instead of best man, had hurt enough. And now…
Erin crossed the room and perched on the love seat next to him, her dress rustling as she moved. The mirror reflected an infinity of them together. The dam burst and he confided everything to her.
“He said we were strangers,” Matthew concluded. Erin sighed and laced her fingers with his. “And he’s right. That’s the worst part. He’s right and I know he is. I didn’t want to come home and face my failure. I missed my brother’s college soccer games. I missed my sister’s growing up years. My mama was sick and I didn’t even know it. This isn’t who I am. Not who I want to be, at any rate.”
“Then don’t,” Erin said simply. “You can’t
change the past. But you can change starting now. If you want to be part of the family, than be part of the family.”
“But how?”
“Get to know them all again. Spend time with them.”
“I don’t live here anymore—”
“I live in Boston and Dylan’s in Atlanta. We still talk every day. You don’t have to be physically close to be an important part of their lives,” Erin pointed out.
“I’m bad at relationships. All relationships,” Matthew said. “Anna said I left her alone too much and—”
“Relationships—all relationships—take work. Matthew, your family loves you. I saw them with you last night. They may be mad at you for keeping your distance but…they’ll come around.” Erin smiled at him. “You know what would probably help the most? Being supportive of the wedding.”
“Even if I still think he’s making a huge mistake?”
“Especially if.” Erin nodded, her fingers warm against his. He squeezed her hand, comforted just by her presence. The shop owner shooed Erin into a dressing room before dashing out to answer a trilling phone. Erin tugged her hand from his and headed over to change. In a few moments, she emerged from the dressing room, clutching the bodice of the dress to her full chest. The dress slid off her slim shoulders and puddled around her feet as her long blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders. She’d look gorgeous on Saturday.
“Couldn’t reach the zipper,” she said, stepping up onto the dais.
“Want some help?”
The dais made them nearly the same height. He fumbled with the tiny zipper pull, his knuckles brushing along her spine as he slowly tugged the zipper up. At the top, he carefully clasped the tiny hook and eye. He traced a constellation of freckles high on her back, her skin satiny beneath his hands. This close, he caught the scent of her, honeysuckle laced with vanilla, tempting him again. His heartbeat sped up, a match for the flutter of her pulse in her long, graceful neck. Her eyes, made even more blue by the purple dress, met his in the mirror and slowly she pivoted to face him. Earlier, he’d wanted a simple taste, sure that kissing her would satisfy this growing hunger. Now, instead, he ached for more. He wanted her, against him, in his arms, wrapped around him. If that kiss was anything to go by, she wanted him too.
“Are you ready for your hem to be pinned up?” The seamstress bustled back into the room, a young assistant following her. Before he dragged her back into his arms and kissed her again, he moved aside to let the seamstress up onto the platform.
“I’ll come back later,” he said to the seamstress as he fled, not at all sure he could withstand temptation another second.
Chapter Fourteen
After her fitting, Erin headed back to the B&B, pondering Matthew’s sudden exit. If he hadn’t stepped back when he did, she’d have flung herself into his arms, hungry for another taste of him after their kiss that afternoon. Despite her attraction to Matthew, she had a job to do and she needed to remember that. If she successfully helped pull off this wedding, she could make the final payment for Dylan’s tuition. Eyes on the prize, Erin. No matter how gorgeous and tempting he was, Matthew was not the prize. Matthew Westbrook was a distraction she didn’t need, no matter how much she liked him. She would focus on getting through this wedding and then, once Dylan’s tuition was taken care of, then maybe she could finally think about herself.
Though she was tired from her long day of sightseeing, the trolley tour for the out-of-town guests was scheduled for tonight. Shelby expected her to attend. Erin looked longingly at the bed, wishing for a nap, before she set up her laptop, grabbed a protein bar and a bottle of water, and got to work. Just before eight, she powered down, stretched, and headed out the door of the B&B.
She walked over to the trolley meeting point, a few blocks, grateful for the chance to stretch her legs and clear her head. The street lamps winked on as indigo faded to chilly night, though even after dark, Savannah shone, lovely, graceful and charming. She found the trolley depot and headed into the tiny waiting room, grateful for the relief from the chilly night. In the waiting room, she met up with Shelby and Victor. “Thank you for including me on the tour. I’m looking forward to seeing Savannah at night.”
“We’re glad to have you, Erin,” Victor said, his soft voice laced with a slight accent.
“Is there anything you need me to do to help you?” Erin asked Shelby.
Shelby shook her head. “Just enjoy yourself. Tomorrow morning is the bridesmaid’s tea and then the couples’ shower.”
“A million tiny details, right?”
“You’ve got that right. Did you get your dress?”
Erin nodded. Before she could say more, Ashley and her family arrived, Alex trailing behind. With most of her weddings, Erin spent a significant amount of time bonding with the bride. Because she’d been called in on such short notice, she hadn’t had a chance to get to know Ashley very well yet. And also because she’d been too distracted by a certain Mr. Westbrook. She decided to rectify that starting now and headed over to chat with Ashley.
“How are you holding up?”
“It’s been brilliant so far. Alex’s mom has done most of the work,” Ashley smiled.
“You met Alex at school?” Erin asked and Ashley nodded as Matthew strolled into the tiny trolley station, wearing jeans and a dark leather jacket. Erin swallowed hard and tried to focus on Ashley’s story of meeting Alex in history class, her awareness totally with Matthew. Matthew greeted his mama and stopped to chat with Ashley’s parents, a wide, welcoming smile on his face. They filed out to the open-air trolleys, wreathed with brightly colored Christmas lights. Matthew crowded next to Ashley. Erin ended up sitting across the aisle from Matthew and next to Ashley’s sister, Heather.
“You’re not an out-of-towner,” Erin said to Matthew, as the conductor walked down the aisle, handing out strips of merrily jingling bells.
“Might as well be,” Matthew muttered back.
“What are you doing here?”
“Getting to know my new sister-in-law,” Matthew answered cheerfully.
Erin leaned across the aisle to whisper to Matthew, catching the heady scent of his citrusy cologne. “What are you up to?”
“If I can’t get Alex to call it off, maybe Ashley…”
“You’re going to make it worse.”
“Alex wanted me to get to know her. I’m getting to know her.” She scowled at him, shaking her head. Matthew dumped two strips of bells into her lap. “Ring the bells, Erin. Be merry.”
He winked, sending heat arrowing through her. She’d had more fun with him today than she’d had in ages—than she’d allowed herself to have in ages. She handed him one of the strips of bells. “If I have to ring bells, so do you.”
Matthew laughed, as the trolley started to roll, cheerful Christmas music pouring from the speakers and drowning out conversation. They rode through the city, lit up now for the holidays, covering most of the area she and Matthew traversed on foot that morning. After seeing the sights, they drove to the opposite side of the river to see the biggest gingerbread display in Savannah. They piled out of the trolley, into the warm hotel. Erin and Heather walked around together, snapping photos of the gorgeous decorations and the little houses, and chatting companionably. As Erin snapped photos of the largest Christmas tree, decorated in shades of blue and silver, Matthew appeared next to her, bearing refreshments.
“I got you a hot chocolate.” He handed her a small paper cup and extended a napkin with a few cookies on it. She shook her head. “I know you’re tempted, Erin.”
Erin looked up into his hazel eyes, now the rich brown color of the hot chocolate he’d brought her. Yes, that was exactly the problem. He tempted her far too much. After her parent’s death, she shut herself off, carefully following her plan to build something out of the rubble of her shattered life. Thanks to hard work and discipline, she’d done it. So what if the victory sometimes seemed rather hollow and success turned out to be lonely? She hadn’t gotten there by indul
ging herself.
“Don’t you want to treat yourself from time to time?” Matthew picked up her hand, his palm warm around hers, and placed the napkin full of cookies in it. “I’m going to go chat some more with my new sister-in-law-to-be.”
Matthew walked away. Erin did not look at how the worn denim of his jeans cupped his bottom any more than absolutely necessary. She took a bite of a cookie. Next to her, Heather said, “Drat. He’s taken already.”
“No, he’s not seeing anyone. He’s single,” Erin protested, the cookie dry in her mouth.
“He’s taken. By you.” Erin shook her head, pushing away memory of their intense kiss that afternoon. “He’s mad for you. Anyone can see it. And I was so hoping to have a tiny vacation fling with a handsome American too.”
Erin laughed, reminded strongly of Lauren. “Have a cookie—a biscuit—instead.”
“Not a great consolation prize,” Heather said mournfully as she snagged a chocolate covered cookie. They headed out to board the trolley again. Erin lost track of Heather and, when Ashley sat next to Alex, Matthew squeezed into the tiny bench seat next to her, pressing against her from shoulder to hip. She shivered and he wrapped an arm around her, cuddling her close in the darkened trolley. She glanced over at him as they rode through the nearby displays of Christmas lights, the sinful taste of chocolate still on her tongue.
“Thanks for the cookies,” Erin finally said.
“You’re welcome.” The lights gilded his handsome face as he looked over at her with a smile. “I remember taking Marina here as a baby. She liked the dancing penguins best.”
She watched the light display as she fought with herself. If she indulged herself with Matthew, who would know? She could keep her emotions in check and indulge in a tiny vacation fling. Based on his bitter comments about love and romance, she suffered no illusions he would want more than a few nights together. They lived in different cities and led different lives.
What would be the harm?
Forever a Bridesmaid (Always a Bridesmaid Book 1) Page 8
