All You Need Is Love (9 page)

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Authors: Janet Nissenson

Tags: #Adult, #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: All You Need Is Love
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Julia lifted her gaze to his briefly, and he had to stifle a shocked laugh. His fiancée was always gorgeous, even without a scrap of makeup on, but it was extremely unusual for her not to be fully made up. In addition to her bare face, her eyes were bloodshot, with ominous looking dark circles underneath them, donut crumbs clung to the corner of her mouth, and she had an ink stain on the tip of her nose.

She looked so completely unlike his always perfectly groomed, seductively dressed fiancée that he had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. And then his eyes fell on the large pink bakery box that had been plunked in the middle of the table.

“Where did all those donuts come from?” he asked in surprise. He’d never seen Julia eat a donut before, as she typically preferred French breakfast pastries like croissants or brioche.

“That all-night place on Divisadero Street. I bought a dozen so help yourself.” She pointed at the box carelessly, not even looking up.

“Um, thanks, but I’ve got to swim in less than an hour so I’ll pass.” Nathan glanced at the assortment she’d bought, each one doughier and more sugary than the next. “But I’m beginning to think I should stay home instead and uh, help you.”

Julia took a gulp of coffee and shoved the rest of her donut in her mouth. “Nah, you go ahead,” she mumbled, brushing away the crumbs that fell onto her chin. “I’m good.”

Nathan regarded her with concern and pulled out a chair, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Baby, are you all right? Because, frankly, you look like shit. And this place looks like a tornado ripped through it.”

She waved a hand in dismissal. “I know it’s a little messy. I’ll tidy up a bit later, after I finish this pile of RSVPs. And finalize the seating chart. Oh, crap, and I need to spend a couple of hours on the designs for that remodel project Travis just gave me. I’ll get things cleaned up eventually, don’t you worry. You go ahead and get your swim in, baby.”

Nathan took the coffee mug out of her hand, distressed to notice she was trembling a little. “Julia, you’re working yourself into a frenzy. I know it’s crunch time with only a month before the wedding, but you’re going to collapse if you don’t take it easy. And I can tell you’ve lost weight, in spite of those donuts you’re shoving in your face this morning.”

She shook her head, oblivious to the blob of chocolate donut icing on the side of her mouth. “I’m fine, honest. But, shoot, that reminds me. I have to call that tailor about Angela’s bridesmaid’s dress. I still have no idea how she managed to pack on ten pounds almost overnight after three years of looking like a famine victim. Where are the pink post-its so I can leave myself a note?”

He stared, dumbfounded. “Why does it have to be pink?”

Julia rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Because I’ve got everything color-coded – duh! Anything having to do with dresses, shoes, makeup is pink. Wedding reception stuff is in blue. Photographer, florist, bakery – those are the yellow ones. And the green ones are for - ”

He placed a hand over her mouth, using his thumb to wipe away the frosting. “Okay, okay. Like I’m going to remember any of that. Julia – you’ve honestly got to slow down, all right? You’re obviously exhausted, I’m guessing you got maybe four hours sleep at most. And, sorry,” he added with a sniff, “but you really need a shower.”

She scowled and shook off his hand. “Gee, thanks. Sounds like someone doesn’t plan on getting laid tonight.”

Nathan smirked. “Well, nothing new there. You’ve either fallen asleep prematurely, or sent me to bed without you for the past five nights. Last time I checked my balls were a very vivid shade of blue and I think each one weighs about five pounds.”

“Oh, brother. Like I’d really believe any of those old wives tales.” She shook her hand and held out her coffee mug. “Here, if you want to help, you can get me a refill.”

He took her mug and went into the kitchen, gazing in disbelief at the nearly empty coffee carafe. “Did you make a full pot this morning?”

“Uh, huh,” she replied distractedly. “Why do you ask?”

“Jesus.” He shook his head, realizing she’d drunk the equivalent of about eight full cups so far. “Maybe you should switch to decaf. Or herbal tea.”

“I hate decaf. And I usually only drink tea when I’m sick. Besides, with everything I’ve got to do today I’ll need as much caffeine as I can handle,” she pointed out.

Despite his better judgment, Nathan fixed her coffee the way she liked it and brought her the mug. But before she could resume her work, he took hold of her hands and forced her to look at him.

“Baby, this can’t go on,” he told her gently. “I’m really worried about you. It’s not just the messy room or what you’re wearing – my God, do you actually have fuzzy socks on?” He stared down at the bright pink fleece that covered her feet.

She tried in vain to pull her hands away. “I know I look like hell. Sorry, I’ll glam up for you once I finish everything on my to-do list for today. Oh, crap, where is that list anyway?”

Nathan refused to release his grip on her hands. “I don’t give a damn about how you look. Even like this – uh, not sure what to call this particular style – you’re gorgeous. But you’re running yourself into the ground, Julia – not sleeping or eating right, always stressed and cranky.”

“Well, what do you expect?” she asked in annoyance. “Do you have any idea how much still has to get done before the wedding? This is why I wanted to wait until the fall to get married. I
told
you six months was nowhere near enough time to organize everything. This is all your fault – post-it notes everywhere, donut crumbs in my hair, and you’re right – I
do
smell bad!” She burst into tears, her body shaking from a combination of stress, too little sleep, and way too much caffeine and sugar.

“Julia, God, don’t cry. You know I can’t stand it when you cry. Come here, baby.” He scooped her onto his lap and cuddled her close as she wept, stroking her back comfortingly.

“You’ve got to just take a few steps back and relax, okay?” he soothed. “Look, I’m going to cancel my swim, you’re going to throw some other clothes on – hopefully very, very soon – and I’m going to take you out to breakfast. And then you’re going to take a nice long nap and forget about all this wedding stuff for today.”

Julia stared at him as though he’d just told her Neiman Marcus had gone out of business. “Are you insane? There’s no way I have even a minute to spare today. And don’t forget I’ve got work to do as well –
real
work, not wedding stuff. Travis wants those designs on his desk on Monday.”

“What the hell was he thinking of giving you a new project right now?” barked Nathan. “I’m going to call that sneaky twit right now and tell him to -”

She placed a restraining hand on his arm and shook her head. “No, don’t. Besides the fact that he and Anton sleep in late on weekends, it wasn’t exactly Travis’ idea to give me the project. I might have, um, asked for it.”

He threw up his hands in frustration. “Are you nuts? Why in the world would you do something like that, given everything else on your plate right now?”

Julia bit her lower lip, a sheepish look on her face. “Because the house is this gorgeous old Edwardian in Presidio Heights. I almost swooned when I saw the interior shots. It’s a dream come true to design for a house like that. It – well, the place called to me, Nathan.”

He sighed. “Travis should have known better than to show you the pictures. Wily bastard – he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist, and that none of his other designers would even begin to do it justice. Let me talk to him, see if he can hold the client off for a bit.”

“No.” She shook her head stubbornly. “I can do this, Nathan. I’m the most organized person I know. I just need to find my to-do list for today. Please don’t miss your swim, okay? Especially since, well, you make me a little nervous just sitting here fussing over me.”

Nathan stood reluctantly, not at all convinced. “All right, I’ll go. But I’ll be back before noon to help you with all this stuff. And,” he told her sternly, “I am getting you out of this place for dinner tonight. No arguments, okay?”

She lifted her face for his kiss and smiled sweetly. “Okay.”

But in the end Nathan wound up ordering in pizza – another food that Julia usually never ate but was suddenly craving.

He regarded her suspiciously. “You aren’t pregnant, are you? I mean, first the donuts, now pizza.”

Julia’s reaction was one of undisguised horror. “God, do not even joke about something like that, Nathan! Not that I don’t want a baby someday, but just the idea is enough to make me go off the deep end right now.”

He held up his hands. “Jeez, I was just joking. Here, let me pour you some more wine, okay? You really need to mellow out a little, baby.”

He’d been at least partially relieved upon arriving home from breakfast with his buddies to find the kitchen tidied up, and Julia freshly showered, made-up, and wearing a short tunic dress. But his relief had been short-lived when all the assorted wedding papers spread on the dining table soon shared whatever precious space could be cobbled out with the stacks of design books and Julia’s sketch pad. She had worked for hours without a break, refusing food and barely acknowledging him when he spoke. He made four separate attempts to persuade her to go out to dinner, and each time she begged for another half hour. At seven p.m. he gave up and placed the call to the pizza joint.

Julia munched on pizza and sipped Zinfandel in between sketching more designs for the Edwardian mansion. Nathan frowned in concern each time she yawned, and her head began to droop in exhaustion.

“Julia, come on. Time to call it quits for the day, baby,” he cajoled. “Look, you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

She shook her head. “Just let me finish the design for the library. Almost done. Then,” she reached over and gave his ear a sexy little nibble, “I promise I’ll make it all up to you, okay? I know I’ve been out of it these past few nights. But tonight will be different, I swear. Why don’t you watch TV for a little while and I’ll just finish this last board up. Half an hour max – I promise.”

Nathan sighed but gave in to her, as he nearly always did. “Fine. But I’m going to hold you to that promise. I swear my boys are getting bluer and heavier by the hour.”

Julia gave him a little shove. “Go. Let me focus. Half an hour. Love you, baby.”

Against his better judgment, he switched on the TV and found a baseball game. As it turned out, the game was far more exciting than he’d anticipated and before he knew it over an hour had passed. But when he surged to his feet to check on Julia, he could only shake his head in exasperation when he saw that she was fast asleep, her face buried in a pile of papers on the dining table.

“Well, so much for making it up to me, baby,” he murmured. “At this rate, we won’t have sex again until our wedding night.”

With mingled tenderness and frustration, he carried her into the bedroom and undressed her, no easy feat considering the fact that she wore a very sexy bra and panty set of black silk beneath her little dress.

As he covered her now nude body with the duvet, he cursed softly at the nobility he displayed by not waking her up, or simply sliding inside her temptingly curved body while she slept. Instead, he merely pressed a kiss on her forehead and sighed in defeat.

“Fuck the wedding plans anyway,” he muttered darkly. “We should have eloped.”

***

“Is everything all right, Nathan? You seem a bit on edge today.”

Nathan sighed, remembering too late that Ian was probably the most perceptive person he’d ever met. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was so obvious. Things are just a little – stressful, I guess is the word. Julia is like a madwoman at the moment trying to get everything done for the wedding, not to mention her insane workload. I’m half afraid she’s going to snap any day now.”

“Hmm.” Ian had a thoughtful expression on his face as he took a sip of his tea.

They had driven up to the new hotel site in the Napa Valley for a progress check on the construction, and were now finishing up a late lunch. Nathan hadn’t realized until now how worn out he must look – sleep-deprived, nutritionally-deprived, and most importantly, sex-deprived. Julia was so worked up and exhausted that sex had been the last thing on her mind for the past ten days, while it was pretty much the
only
thing he thought about. But she was so highly strung, ready to scream at a moment’s notice, that he was scared shitless to even broach the subject. She was driving herself into the ground, getting by on maybe four hours sleep a night, either not eating at all or munching absently on an array of junk food she would normally shudder at the very sight of.

Even Travis had commented to him that maybe Julia should consider taking a couple of days off. Or maybe a nice long nap. Or a pill.

“I think Anton has some Xanax tucked away somewhere,” he’d offered. “Tell her it’s a vitamin. Or just slip it in her coffee. Otherwise, if she doesn’t calm the hell down I’d guess she’s about two days away from going off the deep end. And we both know that is
not
at all like our Julia.”

Nathan ran a hand through his rather unkempt hair and exhaled noisily after relating all of these developments to Ian. “I just don’t know what to do about it. She refuses to slow down or take a break. I keep trying to drag her out to a nice dinner but she insists on going straight home after work and tackling wedding plans. She hasn’t cooked a real meal in over two weeks, and has started eating some, uh, rather revolting takeout.” He shuddered. “Last night, we actually ate a bucket of fried chicken and some really disgusting mashed potatoes. With some very suspicious looking gravy.”

Ian wrinkled his aristocratic nose in shared distaste. “Well, I’m glad then that we chose Bistro Jeanty for lunch today. I, ah, assume the cuisine is a step or two above your bucket of chicken.”

Nathan nodded enthusiastically. “God, yes. I’d almost forgotten what real food tastes like. Julia never eats that sort of garbage, never. It’s just one more sign that she’s cracking under the pressure.”

“Well, there’s really only one solution that I can think of to your problem,” replied Ian lightly. “Considering that it’s too late in the game for you to hire a wedding planner, and I would never advocate drugging her, the only remaining choice is simple – you’ll have to kidnap her.”

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