Daring Brides (10 page)

“I’m not carrying,” she replied, trying to move past him.

He waggled his brows. “You’re a woman of mystery. Thanks for marrying my friend. He’s pretty besotted with you.”

Besotted? Would his platitudes never end? “Thanks. I guess.” Her cheeks were flushing with embarrassment now.

He extended his arm like the gentleman he wasn’t. “May I show you to your chair, my lady?”

What was this? Knights of the Round Table? “I can manage. It’s like twenty feet away, Rhett.”

Ignoring her, he grabbed her arm. “A lady doesn’t say no to a gentleman.”

“You’re no gentleman,” she responded, watching as Keith bounced up and down in his chair at the head table.

She met Mac’s stoplight-green eyes as she neared the table, and her insides dissolved like the tissue paper stuffed into the wedding present bags up front.

“No, ma’am, I’m not, but then again you had my number the minute you laid eyes on me.” Rhett pulled out her chair and winked at her before taking his seat next to Mac’s nephew, Dustin, who was between Mac and his mother, Abbie.

Rhett cast Abbie a look of pure longing and then turned to speak with Rye. They were getting along better, Peggy knew, but Abbie still hadn’t relented to his continued pursuit. The man was a proverbial sap. It was kinda sweet when he wasn’t being crazy.

“I see Rhett is giving you his unique brand of attention,” Mac whispered and kissed her cheek. “He’s happy to see me settled. You should have heard the country songs he dedicated to our marriage before the ceremony started.”

“I heard about that.” She fingered the chainmail sleeve of his jacket and bit her lip. “I even heard you ended up singing Garth Brooks.”

He gave her a look. “That is never to be repeated.”

“I can keep your secrets,” she said, wishing they didn’t have all these people around them so she could do something sappy and kiss him until they were both senseless.

“I know you can,” he said, laying his hand over hers on his sleeve. “Later.”

She felt that one word all the way to her toes. It took some effort to look away from him and remove her hand, but she managed. The water cooled her hot throat.

Shaking herself, she made herself look past her delectable groom. “Abbie, thanks again for all your help,” she told her new sister-in-law. “Everything looks beautiful.”

While Mac had plenty of minions to see to his instructions, Abbie had insisted on personally seeing to many of the last-minute preparations for the wedding, which was why she hadn’t joined Peggy, Jill, and Meredith in the penthouse.

“You’re most welcome,” Abbie said, holding her champagne glass in that elegant way of hers. “You know how much I love planning parties. I think everyone’s going to enjoy themselves, don’t you?”

Was Peggy responsible for ensuring they were having a good time? She clutched the wine glass Mac handed her. “I’m sure it will be all right.”

“Breathe,” Mac said in a whisper. “You don’t have anything more pressing to do than eat, dance with me, and cut the cake.”

“We have to cut the cake?” she asked. She hadn’t thought to put a stop to that. It was more of that spotlight stuff she hated.

“It’s a simple tradition. Don’t pretend you’ve never heard of it.”

“I was hoping some of your people would do it. Your hotel has knives, right?”

He leaned in until she could feel his hot breath on her ear. “Stop toying with me. I’ll only make you pay later.”

She gave a quick glance to make sure her son wasn’t listening, but he was talking to Tanner, who was sitting next to him. “Promise?”

“Have I ever let you down?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

When she lifted her glass to her mouth, she tasted beer, which she liked a heck of a lot better than wine. No, he had never let her down.

The servers came around with their food. Mac had wanted a sit-down meal for the reception, and she’d chosen surf and turf. There would be no rubber chicken dinner for her on her wedding day.

The lobster tail was bathed in enough butter to sink a ship, and the prime rib had just enough blood to remind her of her ruby. She shook her head. That man was making her crazy. Now she was comparing beef juice and jewels. Someone should call Robin Leach so he could bring
Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous
back to primetime.

The band Mac had selected was playing some classy instrumental that reminded her of the Rat Pack. Pretty soon, she’d have to dance with him—just the two of them—on the parquet dance floor in the center of the room. He’d insisted they have a dance. Her heart rate kicked up at the very thought. She sucked at dancing, which she’d tried to tell him, and she was bound to step on his toes.

Throughout the meal Keith continued to run back and forth to visit with all his favorite people, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him to stay in one place. Not after the way he’d shoveled down his meal as fast as possible so he could be excused from the table. Right now, he was talking with his adopted grandfather, Arthur Hale, and she pushed her chair back to say hello to him. They’d only had a perfunctory hug earlier in the reception line.

“And where are you going, my dear?” Mac asked, taking her hand.

“I’d like to talk to Arthur,” she told him. “I’m finished eating.”

She was going to wish for her fat pants by the time they got to the cake. But how could she not look forward to all that sugar? Selecting a wedding cake had been her favorite part of wedding planning. Who
didn’t
like trying ten types of cake and selecting the best of the lot?

Mac had ceded to her tastes there, and she’d chosen a dark chocolate cake with raspberry filling and white buttercream frosting. The cake lady had wanted to put white frosting roses on the cake to make it pretty, and while Peggy had thought it too fussy, she’d agreed after seeing some of the more insanely complicated cake decorations.

“How about I join you?” Mac asked, rising from his chair. “We can make the rounds.”

“The rounds?” She almost gulped.

“Yes. You know. Talk to our guests at each of their tables.”

All of the sudden she wanted to sit back down. “We have to talk to them more?”

“Don’t sound so horrified,” he said, and she could hear the repressed laughter in his voice. “Now, smile.”

She pasted on a smile, but when she caught sight of Arthur handing Keith one of his signature red hot candies, she didn’t have to fake anything.

“I could use one of those too,” she said to the older man when they reached them.

He tossed her one with a wink. She caught it deftly in her hand.

“Thanks, Arthur.”

“My bride gave me red hots on my wedding day,” he told her, and she was alarmed to see him grow misty-eyed. Arthur Hale wrote about war and climate change. He was not supposed to tear up while talking about red hots.

“No wonder you keep them around,” Mac said and surprised her by taking one of the candies Arthur held out to him. “They must bring back wonderful memories of your beloved Harriet.”

The older man coughed to clear his voice. “Harriet would have liked you, Peggy, as I’ve told you before. She was tough like you. But inside she was as soft as cream cheese.”

“Mom hates cream cheese,” Keith said. “She doesn’t even like cheesecake. Isn’t that the weirdest thing ever?”

“The weirdest,” Arthur replied seriously, crunching on his red hot. “You make a lovely bride, my dear. It’s nice to see a woman dress up without all that froufrou.”

Jill rolled her eyes from her seat beside him. “You’d better not be talking about me, Grandpa. I won’t let you hold Mia anymore tonight.”

He reached for his granddaughter’s cooing baby. “Then I am most definitely not talking about you, Jillie Bean.”

After chatting with the Hales for a few minutes, Peggy and Mac moved on to the next table. At Mac’s suggestion, they’d invited Peggy’s fellow police officers, so they joined them and their wives and made small talk and joked about having a tower of donuts instead of a wedding cake and other silly things. Thank God no one commented about her necklace, but she’d seen a few of the guys eye it—and her—like she’d gone mad. When she returned from her honeymoon in San Francisco, she expected them to tease her about it. She’d have to plan a reply that would shut down that line of joking.

By the time she and Mac walked away from the last table, her shoulders weren’t stiff and tense anymore. Talking to people wasn’t
that
bad, although it was weird for everyone else to be sitting down while she and Mac were standing. Then she heard the band cue up the song Mac had picked for them, and her shoulders went back to being ramrod straight.

“Do we really have to dance?” she asked. “Please, don’t make me.” It embarrassed her to beg, but she suddenly felt overwhelmed. She’d been on display so much today.

“Yes, we do, but I have an idea that might make it easier on you.” He gave a soft whistle by putting his two fingers to that gorgeous mouth of his. Keith came running.

“Is it time to dance?” her son asked.

His mini-tuxedo jacket—courtesy of Mac—had come unbuttoned. His shirt was partially tucked in. And sure enough, his bow tie was crooked again. He looked absolutely adorable.

“Yep,” Mac said, taking her hand and Keith’s and leading them onto the dance floor.

The music flowed through the room, and as she stood there holding the hands of her favorite men, Peggy decided she could be silly for just once in her life and dance. She got jiggy to the beat.

***

It was a rarity to see Peggy bust out her moves, and Mac didn’t intend to squander the occasion. He sent Keith off to dance with Abbie when the first song ended. Just as he’d expected, Peggy made a move to leave the dance floor, but he snaked a hand around her waist.

“Not just yet,” he whispered into her ear.

Couples strolled onto the floor around them, and he swayed with her to the orchestra’s medley.

“You tricked me,” she accused with a narrowing of her gorgeous eyes.

“I thought you might loosen up a little if we shared our first dance with Keith, but I was still hoping we’d have a dance for just the two of us.” He stepped back and led her into a twirl.

She looked at him like he’d gone as crazy as Rhett. Peggy McBride wasn’t a woman who twirled.

“You do look beautiful,” he said softly.

Her face flushed. “Thanks…this whole wedding stuff is…kinda nice. When it’s not awkward.”

To ease her discomfort, he brought her close and whispered in her ear, “How about we cut the cake soon? That way, we can leave whenever you want.” He was more than eager to leave for his own reasons.

“You mean we can leave with all these people here?” she asked, looking around the room like the idea had never dawned on her.

“It’s our wedding,” he told her. “We can do whatever we want.”

“Why didn’t you tell me we could do anything we wanted before today?” she asked with an edge of delightful suspicion to her voice.

“Because you would have insisted on getting married in Vegas, and I didn’t think you truly wanted that.”

Now her eyes had really narrowed. “You didn’t?”

“No,” he said, turning her in a half circle so they looked like they were doing at least some dancing and not just standing and chatting. “Under all of that bluster, you like to be around our new friends and family.”

The corners of her mouth tipped up, and he knew he had her. Sometimes she was as full of bluster as Arthur Hale. Not that he would tell that to the older man or his new wife.

“You might be right,” she said, “but don’t test that premise by making me dance with Rhett. I think he’s waiting in the wings for us to finish.”

Mac looked over, and sure enough, his friend was standing on the edge of the dance floor next to Dustin. Rhett gave him a thumbs-up, which made him laugh.

“You’ll be happy to know I instructed the orchestra not to accept any requests from Rhett.”

“Thank God.”

“Or Jill.”

Now she gave him a full-blown smile. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

Oh, how daring his Warrior Bride looked under the soft light of the chandeliers above them. “You didn’t.”

And as he spun her around in his arms, he knew she’d keep him on his toes for the next thirty years and then some, and he couldn’t wait to see what their family would look like down that long, beautiful road.

Abbie & Rhett

Planning a wedding with a man as outlandish as Rhett Butler Blaylock had been a daring task for Abbie Maven. He loved and catered to her too much to leave all the details to her. But good heavens, they’d had to balance two very different visions of their big day.

Rhett wanted what he termed a rip-roaring Southern BBQ feast the likes of which Dare Valley had never seen. When Abbie had expressed her concern about eating an entrée with a dark red tomato sauce that could stain her wedding gown, Rhett had only laughed and said they’d wear specialty wedding bibs.
Bibs.
The man was insane.