How to Catch a Groom

by Jacobs, Holly

  That’s what Desi wanted. A man who would still send her flowers and think she was beautiful after years of marriage. A man who shared her passions and whose passions she could share. A true, enduring romance.

  A prince charming sort of guy who would carry her off into the sunset and wake up next to her for the rest of her sunrises.

  “Oh, my gosh,” Pam whispered pointing at a man who’d taken a seat at the bar. “I don’t think it matters what sort of underwear that one chooses. He’s the type who only makes me wonder one thing … how long would it take to get him out of his underwear?”

  Mary Jo snorted margarita out her nose as she laughed.

  Desi looked at the man. Sure he was hot, but not as hot as Seth.

  She stifled a groan, not wanting to alert her friends.

  She had to stop thinking about Seth.

  She shook her head and forced herself to study the man at the bar. “Thong. Definitely a thong underwear. If he doesn’t wear one, he should.”

  Mary Jo and Pam tore their gazes away from Mr. Thong, took one look at Desi and all three women started laughing.

  Desi forced herself to concentrate on dinner. She wasn’t going to think about Seth Rutherford any more.

  She’d outgrown her girlhood infatuation years ago, she reminded herself.

  There was a question that kept niggling at her thoughts, though. Could she outgrow her adult attraction to him?

  “Forget it, Phil. You can’t just walk out.”

  Desi glanced at her watch. It was already after three on Friday afternoon. There was no time left to find someone to replace Phil before the Mentz wedding this evening and there was no way she alone could handle the thousand and one details that needed to be handled.

  Phil wasn’t full-time. During the weekdays she was on her own, but at the actual weddings, she needed someone to help coordinate all the details.

  No way was he walking out on her now. She was going to tell him so. She was going to put her foot down and insist he live up to his obligations.

  “Phil, you just can’t—”

  “Desi, this is the job I’ve been waiting for. The one in Atlanta.”

  Atlanta.

  That magic word that stopped any further protests.

  Desi’s heart turned to mush, right then and there.

  Atlanta.

  Anywhere else in the world and she would have continued her fight with Phil. She’d berate him for leaving her in a lurch and insist he stay until she could find a replacement.

  But she couldn’t fight against Atlanta.

  “Does she know?” Desi asked.

  The she in question was Phil’s ex-girlfriend—the girlfriend who’d accepted a job in Atlanta just three months ago after some big, mysterious fight they’d had. He wouldn’t talk about it, but Desi knew he hadn’t stopped thinking about it—about her.

  “Not yet, but she will. My flight leaves at six. I’ll have the weekend to get acclimated, and then I start work, both at the paper and on Debbie. I’m going to get her back.”

  How could Debbie resist a man who loved her enough to follow her?

  How could Desi put up a fight against that kind of love?

  She couldn’t.

  Desi understood chasing your dreams and damning the consequences. She’d started this business against all her parent’s dire warnings.

  “Listen, Des,” he said. “I’m really sorry. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t pass up this opportunity.”

  “You’re right,” she said. “You can’t. You should go after Debbie and make her see that the two of you are meant to be together.”

  Phil was a good friend, in addition to being a great assistant. But no matter how good an assistant he was, he was a greater guy. Debbie didn’t realize how lucky she was. She had a man who’d give up everything to be with her.

  “Go pack,” she said. “Call or email me next week and let me know how it’s going.”

  She could hear his sigh of relief over the phone line. “I will. Thanks for understanding, Des.”

  “No problem.” At least it wasn’t a problem for him. “I’ll figure something out.”

  Desi hung up the phone and stared at her small, cluttered office. There was a neater office just beyond that door—soft colors and fabrics, huge overstuffed furniture that lent the room a romantic feel, she thought with more than a little bit of pride. But that was just for show, for clients. This was where she worked. It wasn’t much more than a glorified broom closet, but it suited her. Desi worked best in the midst of chaos.

  And she’d need to work her best to figure this out.

  What was she going to do? It was late Friday afternoon and the wedding started in just an hour—she should be leaving for it right now. The reception was right after it until nine. How on earth was she going to find a replacement for Phil?

  She flipped through the names in her phone book. Her parents would never lower themselves to help at a wedding. They’d never approved of her starting this business.

  Desi could have talked Mary Jo into it, but Paul was out of town this weekend. That meant Mary Jo was dealing with the four kids on her own.

  She paused on a page. Maybe Pam?

  She dialed her friend’s number.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh, Pam, you’re there. I need you.”

  “Sure. Anything, you know that. What’s up?”

  “Any chance that you have this weekend free?”

  “Well, in terms of hot dates, yes. But the students have that concert for their parents tonight—I’m on my way out now. Then it’s open to the public tomorrow afternoon, remember? I mentioned it Wednesday. But what do you need? Maybe I can swing it.”

  But. There it was. Desi felt like the butt of some cosmic joke. “No big deal. I was a little short for a couple weddings and thought of you. You have fun at the concerts, I’ll figure something out.”

  “You know, if it was anything but my kids …”

  “I know you’d help me if you could. That’s why I called. But don’t worry about it. I’ve got other ideas. I’ll see you next Wednesday.”

  She hung up and stared morosely at the phone.

  She couldn’t think of another soul who she might be able to convince to help her out in a pinch. Some favor she could collect on.

  And then it hit her.

  There was someone she’d been thinking about all week, though she wasn’t sure why. Probably because she’d been worried about him.

  He owed her. He’d said so. Giving him a transistor all those years ago might be a rather weak debt, but it was all she had. That and the fact she’d driven him home last week. Why, she’d practically saved his life. Maybe, just maybe he’d meant what he said.

  And actually, it would be almost therapy. An after-you’ve-been-thrown-from-a-horse-you-need-to-climb-back-on, sort of thing.

  Why, asking for help was almost a good deed. She flipped her phone book and dialed the number.

  “Hello?”

  Desi knew it was him. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  She put on her professional chipper voice. “Hi, Seth. This is Desi.” When he didn’t say anything she added, “Desdemona Smith.”

  “Desi,” He didn’t sound overly enthusiastic. “Is something wrong?”

  “It’s been almost a week since … well, it’s been a week. I just wanted to call and see how you were.” She tapped her pen against a sheet of paper and started to doodle little circles, one on top of another.

  “My life’s been a comedy of errors. First Mary Kathryn left, then she called. I still don’t understand, but she says we would have been miserable married, that it takes more than logic to make a marriage work. I don’t know about that, but if she wouldn’t have been happy, then it’s a good thing we didn’t go through with it. I think we’re still friends. But she’s not coming back to work. That might have been okay, but then our research assistant broke his arm in a freak bathtub accident and …” His voice trailed
off a moment and then he said, with a sigh, “There’s just so much to do.”

  Bathtub accident, freak or otherwise? Desi would have asked if she didn’t have more pressing questions.

  “I didn’t mean with work, I meant, how are you doing?” She doodled a sketch that looked like a man’s torso. A naked man’s torso.

  She took the doodle lower and realized how anatomically correct she’d just made it. Diddling with a doodle was poor form.

  She scratched it out and found herself blushing. She was thankful Seth was on the other end of a phone line and not looking over her shoulder.

  “I’m okay. And I’m glad you called,” he said. “I want to thank you again for … well, for bringing me home before I made a total fool of myself. You promised at the rehearsal dinner that you wouldn’t let me do that and you didn’t. It seems every time we meet you rescue me, whether it’s transistors or rides home. I’m grateful.”

  “I wish I could have got you into bed—” She stopped short, realizing how that sounded. “I mean, get you off the floor, but you were too heavy.”

  “But you covered me. That was probably more than I deserved. I’m swearing off alcohol. The whole night is pretty much a blur.”

  “Um, Seth. You just said you were grateful. I’d like to know if you’re appreciative enough to reciprocate and help me out.”

  “Help you out?” Seth asked.

  “Well, I need somebody today. I need someone desperately.” There was the faintest hint of pleading in her voice, but she didn’t care. Desi knew she did need Seth Rutherford and she needed him desperately.

  Seth gulped convulsively.

  Desi couldn’t mean what he thought she meant. She didn’t need him like that, so he didn’t tell her that one of the most vivid recollections he had from his almost-wedding night was Desi’s assets rubbing against him in the car.

  He wasn’t sure why they were rubbing against him and he certainly wasn’t about to ask, but he distinctly remembered her breasts and that led to quite a bit of need on his part too.

  “Desperately?” he simply asked, waiting for her to clarify what it was she needed because he knew it wasn’t him. He didn’t seem to inspire that sort of need in women. At least not in Mary Kathryn and probably not in Desi either.

  “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. I can’t think of anyone who would do it but you.”

  Seth didn’t want to tell her that he’d been thinking of her as well. That didn’t seem like what a jilted groom should be thinking about. “Uh, maybe we should talk about this need.”

  “Oh, there’s no time to talk. It’s really just a matter of being able to follow directions. And since you’re into science, I’m sure you can follow along.”

  “You’re going to direct me?”

  “Of course. I mean, I’m sure you shine in the lab and even in the classroom, but I don’t think you’re as experienced as I am at this kind of stuff.”

  Had he, in his drunkenness, told her that he and Mary Kathryn had never made love?

  If he told her, he hoped he’d explained that he was more than capable of making love.

  He hoped he’d told her that it was just that Mary Kathryn had always seemed like a friend—just a friend—and it was especially hard to get all hot and bothered by a goggle-wearing, lab-sharing friend. He just figured he’d get hot and bothered after the wedding.

  But he’d reassessed that postulate since the almost-wedding. Chemistry alone might not be enough to base a relationship on—he still believed common interests and goals were the most important ingredients—but hot and bothered should be part of a relationship.

  Maybe if he and Mary Kathryn had experienced more elemental reactions to each other, she wouldn’t have left.

  But now there was no wedding and no marriage, so he didn’t have to worry about getting hot and bothered in the least by Mary Kathryn.

  But Desi … now that was another story all together.

  Not that he was hot and bothered. Maybe he suspected he could get hot and bothered about her, not that he would. He was swearing off women.

  “Seth, I know it’s asking a lot, but I truly do need you. You said your research assistant was injured and you’re swamped. Well, I’ll even help you out in return if you like, sort of a tit-for-tat thing.”

  Her phrasing reminded him of his need and left him grateful she was a phone-line away at the moment, and not near enough to notice that she wasn’t the only needy person in this conversation.

  “I know you’re not used to being bossed around,” she continued, “so I promise I’ll be gentle.”

  “I’ll do I,!” he said, though he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to and was even less sure why he was agreeing to it in the first place.

  “You will? Great. I’ll explain everything when you get there. St. John’s on East Twenty-Sixth Street. I need you there in an hour.”

  “We’re going to do it in a Church?”

  “Of course. I admit, I’ve done it other places. Some of them were almost bizarre. I mean, the beach makes sense, but there was one time we did it in the middle of the Mall. Why would anyone want to do it there?”

  “In the Mall?” He gulped convulsively. “In the middle of the Mall?”

  “I’ll tell you all my stories, if you like. Just be at St. John’s in an hour. Oh, and do you own a tux?”

  “A tux?” he asked.

  “Never mind, I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Seth. I owe you. Bye.”

  Seth sat, feeling shell-shocked, as he listened to the dial tone buzzing in his ear. What on earth had he just agreed to?

  It had to have something to do with her job. She worked in churches. He was sure he hadn’t agreed to what he thought he’d agreed to. And maybe he felt a little disappointed that he hadn’t. Because if he had agreed to what he originally thought he was agreeing to, he’d be the one who’d owe Desi.

  He’d owe her big.

  Chapter Three

  Desi was in big trouble if Seth didn’t arrive soon.

  She glanced out the church door for the hundredth time. Where was he?

  Maybe Seth had reconsidered and wasn’t going to show.

  She groaned at the thought. Well, she’d just have to muddle through the wedding without an assistant, if that was the case. She’d just have to figure out how to be in two places at once.

  No problem. She could handle it.

  She looked at her watch again. She’d wait another couple minutes and then she’d have to get started without him.

  A neon-yellow sports car shot passed the church and parked down the block. A man climbed out of it.

  A man with sandy blond hair who looked like Seth from a distance. But it couldn’t be Seth. Seth was a stodgy, professorly sort who should drive a practical car, not a sporty, neon-yellow two-seated babe-magnet.

  No, Seth wasn’t some blond boy-toy driving a car guaranteed to make women drool.

  The boy-toy came closer.

  It was Seth.

  Desi let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

  “Hi,” he called as he started up the long flight of stairs that led to the front doors of the old church.

  “Seth.” Desi couldn’t remember when she’d been so happy to see someone. She assured herself that she was only happy to see him though because she needed his help, not for any other reason. “Nice car.”

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “Of course. What’s not to like?”

  She could almost imagine sitting in the passenger seat, the wind blowing through her hair, the car’s engine purring as they rode down the interstate going somewhere, anywhere.

  “It’s a great car,” she said, though she was still rather caught up in her mental picture of riding in the car.

  “I bought it this week. I wanted to do something wild. Something out of character. This was the best I could come up with.” He smiled a lopsided smile.

  Desi suddenly realized that in her fantasy-ride, Seth was the on
e driving.

  She had to get control of herself. Despite the awesome car and the lopsided grin with accompanying dimple, Seth wasn’t Desi’s type.

  Or was he?

  She wasn’t precisely sure what her type was, come to think of it. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t looking, but she never seemed to find her prince charming and Desi wasn’t going to settle for less than her perfect man. And she certainly wasn’t going to settle for less than love.

  She glanced up at Seth and for a moment tried to imagine he was the prince she’d been waiting for. She imagined him climbing off his pearly white steed, wearing a regal looking cloak and crown as he whispered the sweet words she’d waited her whole life to hear—

  The mental-image popped like a balloon, and instead of a prince, her imaginary Seth was wearing a lab coat and shaking a finger in her face as he said, “Love isn’t logical and I like logic.”

  Desi shook her head, trying to clear the daydream.

  “Come on, we need to hurry,” she said as she led Seth into the church and down the stairs to the restroom.

  No more fantasies today. She had a wedding to run.

  “Here.” She handed him the tux. “Go change in the bathroom. It might be a little off, but I think I came close on the size.”

  “You never told me exactly why I was here. I mean, we’re not getting married, are we? You remember the last time I tried that. It didn’t go so well.” He paused a moment, and added, “You didn’t say just what you needed me for.”

  “My assistant quit and I need someone to help me.”

  “Help you with …?”

  “The wedding. The Mentz wedding.” She gave him a little shove into the bathroom. “Hurry up and change. It’s already started and I like to watch.”

  A few minutes later he came out wearing the tux. It fit as if it had been made for him. He held out the tie. “Would you mind?”

  Desi did mind.

  She minded a lot.

  She didn’t want to get any closer to Seth than she had to. She wasn’t sure what to make of this man who one minute was throwing beer on his cat and the next minute he was driving a sports car and looking yummy in a tux. She didn’t want to get any closer to this man who invaded her fantasies.