Authors: Susan Hatler
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Romantic Comedy, #Short Stories (Single Author)
I squeezed my hand against his. “It meant a lot to me, too.”
Standing close together, we gazed into each other’s eyes, and my heart ached for his loss. He’d so clearly loved his dad. Guilt flooded through me over keeping my dad at a distance since he and my mom divorced. Even if he lived out of state, I was lucky to still have him and should appreciate that each and every day.
Paul rocked our hands gently back and forth. “So you like the tile?”
I nodded. “Love it. Thanks for bringing it over.”
He stared at me, brushing my cheek with his other hand. “You’re welcome.”
Those gorgeous eyes were making my stomach do floppy things again. No, I couldn’t fall for him. But I so wanted to. . . .
My heart rate kicked up and I sucked in a breath. “We should probably head up.”
“Good idea.” The corner of his mouth turned up and he released my hand, then tapped my nose again.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. Close call. Way too close. As Paul put the tile back in his bag, I gathered our glasses and realized something. I turned toward him accusingly, and gestured with the glass I held. “At the Geoffries, you told me you’d rappelled down a building before.”
Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he smirked. “You asked me if I’d rappelled before and I said you were in good hands. And you were.”
We started walking and I bumped my shoulder into his teasingly. “That’s totally playing with words.”
“Yet still the truth.” He laughed as he opened the sliding door so I could pass through. “You made it down safely, didn’t you?”
“Barely,” I said, immediately thinking of our kiss. The kiss that had been uploaded to the Internet. I wondered if he’d seen the article.
He closed the door behind us. “Next time I’ll make sure it’s more than barely.”
I smiled over my shoulder then set the glasses on the kitchen counter. “Next time I’ll make sure not to date a man with a weak stomach.”
“Who is lucky date number three?” He toyed with the cork on the counter as he waited for my answer.
“Kyle Harper?” Hearing myself say it as a question made me laugh. “My friend Ellen set me up.”
His brows came together. “What do you know about him?”
I walked Paul to the door, then turned the handle. “I know he’s getting me one day closer to free labor, which is all I need to know.”
A look of relief crossed his face and he stepped through the doorway and onto the porch mat before turning back. “How is your friend Kristen doing? She going to be able to help you this weekend?”
I leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m not sure. I didn’t return messages this evening. My sister, Melanie, came over before you and brought me that vase as a housewarming gift.”
His eyes flicked over my shoulder toward the gorgeous sea-foam blue vase. “You’ve had a busy night. I should let you get some rest.”
“Thanks again for bringing over the tile.” I smiled appreciatively then tapped the black bag he was holding. “Let me know when you hear back about the cost.”
“I will.” His gaze held mine as he stepped forward, cupped my face with both hands, then brushed his thumbs over my cheeks. “You have a nice date tomorrow night.”
My heart pounded and a rush of butterflies stormed my belly. “Okay,” I whispered.
Then he leaned forward slowly and pressed his mouth to mine. My heart fluttered as he brushed feathery-soft kisses across my lips, so warm and gentle a small sound escaped me and I felt light-headed.
With one final sweet kiss he pulled away. “Good night.”
“Good night.” I bit my bottom lip as he walked toward the curb, then I closed the door and leaned back against the hard surface.
I’d tried to prove that Paul wasn’t perfect and had failed miserably.
My heart was so in trouble.
Chapter Seven
I arrived at work Wednesday morning and found Ellen Holbrook waiting in my office—more like sleeping, actually. She wore a peach button-up maternity dress that showed off her adorable baby bump. Her eyes were closed and her hand rested protectively over her ballooning belly.
Seeing her wedding ring sparkle on her finger caused that image of Paul wearing a tuxedo to pop into my head. His gorgeous blues and his flirty personality had been all I could think about until last night. Now all I could think about was his feathery-soft kisses that made me melt.
And made my nerves go on red alert.
Clearing my throat loudly, I sat at my desk. “Good morning, Ellen.”
Her eyes popped open, and she brought a hand to her cheek. “Kaitlin? Sorry, I must’ve dozed off.”
I chuckled. “Baby kicking all night again?”
Her mouth stretched into a smile. “Yes, he’s going to be quite the soccer player.”
“You found out the sex?” I’d thought they’d decided to wait.
“No, I just meant he as in the baby, in general. Henry thinks it’ll be fun to be surprised and I don’t want to ruin that for him.” Her mouth went tight. “Not like he’s the one who’s going to have a baby shower with only gender-neutral colors, though.”
“I, uh . . .” I blinked, stunned. I’d never heard Ellen utter a single negative word about her hubby. He sounded so perfect I thought he was fictional. Her lack of sleep must be getting to her. That or hormones. “What can I help you with?”
“The FMLA paperwork for my maternity leave.” She pushed a small stack of papers toward me. “And Kristen.”
My eyes shot up from the paperwork. Kristen had left me a voicemail last night ranting that if Ellen didn’t get off her back about her mother she might lose it. “Don’t tell me the engagement is off. I know she’s been stressing—”
“It’s still on for eighteen months from now. That’s the problem.” She straightened, tried crossing her legs over her bubble belly several times, then finally gave up. “We have to convince Kristen not to listen to her mother.”
Since their close friendship went way back to high school, I knew Ellen meant well. But Kristen’s voicemail made it clear she wanted Ellen to lay off. “I don’t think that’s wise.”
Ellen stared at me like I’d grown a third head. “Kristen’s mom cares more about
where
they get married than her daughter marrying the man she loves. It’s all about appearances, not marriage.”
“Her mom may be difficult,” I said, thinking of my own mother, “but she loves Kristen and only wants her wedding to be as beautiful as possible. Eighteen months isn’t that long.”
Ellen huffed. “It could be a lifetime. We have no guarantees in life.”
Even Paul’s parents’ time together had been cut short, but that wasn’t the point. “She doesn’t want to hurt her mom. I think we should respect her decision.”
She scoffed. “If I’d listened to my own mom, I’d still be online dating instead of with the love of my life.”
Yikes. That would’ve been a tragedy since they were the perfect couple (minus the baby-gender decision). “Kristen’s mom isn’t against Ethan. She just wants the best wedding for them.”
Ellen shook her head. “She wants the best
appearance
and, yes, the Geoffries ballroom is amazing. I’d looked into renting the room as well, but declined due to the wait list. There are plenty of other perfectly acceptable wedding locations that are booking only two months out. I know because that’s what I did last year.”
A valid point. “Even if I agreed with you, Kristen would never break her mother’s heart like that.”
She banged her index finger against the desk. “This wedding shouldn’t be about what her mother wants. It’s about Kristen and Ethan committing themselves to each other and becoming family. She needs to stand up to her mother once and for all.”
The thought of standing up to my own mother terrorized me. “It’ll never happen. Kristen’s practical like me. She may not be marrying Ethan in the time frame she wants, but they’ll be married in eighteen months and then everyone will be happy.”
Her brows came together and her eyes went wild and crazy. “Until her mother decides Kristen shouldn’t know the sex of her own baby and then what’s she supposed to do? Give in again? When does it end? When does she get to live the life
she
wants?”
My mouth dropped open. “Um. . .”
“Right. Um.” Ellen leaned back in her chair, looking like she needed another nap after that passionate speech. “We have to talk to her. Convince her that getting married when she wants and where she wants is the right thing to do.”
I shook my head. “It’ll never happen, sweetie.”
Holding onto the table for support, she pushed to her feet. “Well, I’m going to try.”
I nodded, watching her waddle her way to the door. “Hey, Ellen?”
“Yeah?”
I bit my bottom lip. “You should tell Henry how badly you want to know the sex of the baby. It’s shouldn’t be only about what the daddy wants but what the mommy wants as well.”
She blinked as I pointed out her own logic. “You’re right. I’m going to talk to him. Thanks, Kaitlin. And have fun on your date with Kyle tonight. He’s a keeper.”
“Sure. See you later.” My phone rang and I snatched up the receiver. “Kaitlin Murray.”
“Are you free for lunch today?” Kristen’s voice shrilled across the line. “I need to talk to you. It’s about the wedding.”
Oh, no. What now? I glanced at my calendar. “I can meet you at noon. Where?”
Kristen let out a breath. “Wok N’ Roll in Old Sac.”
“I’ll be there.” I hung up the phone and had the strange feeling something huge had happened. I just hoped the wedding was still on.
****
As soon as the waiter at Wok N’ Roll left with our lunch orders, Kristen turned to me with what I can only describe as a maniacal grin. “This is where Ethan and I are getting married. I’m so excited.”
I surveyed the casual Chinese restaurant then pulled my chin back, thoroughly confused. “You mean in Old Sac?”
Kristen shook her head. “Here, at Wok N’ Roll.”
My mouth dropped open. She seemed serious. I had no words.
She held her hands up. “After Ellen left last night, I walked around my condo—the one I decorated to perfection when I gave it my obsessive home make-over after Jake and I broke-up—and reality hit me. Even though I love my place, I don’t want to live there for the next eighteen months alone.”
I reached for my water, guzzled, then set the glass back down and pointed out the obvious. “You’re not alone. You have Gina.”
She cackled as if I’d said the funniest thing. “Gina’s a fabulous roommate. I meant I don’t want to live without Ethan.”
What happened to not wanting to hurt her mother?
My head spun from Kristen’s one-eighty, the fact that she was planning her dream wedding at a Chinese restaurant, and that her normally calm demeanor had been replaced by a personality resembling a Kewpie doll gone mad. “Um, is there a historical significance to this place that I’m not aware of?”
Her grin appeared frozen as she shook her head. “No, but there is a party room in back and availability in six weeks, which is when I’m going to marry Ethan.”
Okay, I was just going to say it. Someone had to be the voice of reason. “You can’t have your wedding here.”
Kristen blinked as if surprised. “Why not?”
Did she want me to make a list? Okay, I could do that.
I held one finger out at a time. “One, because it smells like chow mein in here. Two, soy sauce will not come out of a wedding dress. And three, a fortune cookie is
not
a wedding cake.”
She snapped her fingers. “I hadn’t thought of fortune cookies. We’ll put our names and the date on those slips of paper inside the cookies.”
That actually sounded cute. . . .
I shook my head to clear the thought. “Do you really want to walk down the aisle past a fish tank with a neon sign above it reading ‘Nobody woks it like we do’?”
She tilted her head. “They have availability in six weeks. I’m getting married here and there’s nothing you or my mother can say to talk me out of it.”
“If I thought you really wanted to get married here, I’d support you. I just think you’re being rash and—” My mouth froze as Kristen’s handsome fiancé entered the restaurant with another woman. A gorgeous woman. She wore a designer pants suit, her hair was pulled back into a low and tight ponytail, and her sharp, no-nonsense expression warned everyone not to mess with her.
And she was with Ethan! My heart sank and I wanted to cry.
Kristen gave me an odd look then turned over her shoulder to where I was staring. Instead of gritting her teeth or freaking out, she lifted her hand and waved.
Ethan smiled back. Not exactly the look of someone getting caught cheating.
Perhaps I’d jumped to conclusions. . . .
Ethan said something to the woman, then they came over to our table. He leaned down and kissed Kristen on the cheek. “Hi, honey. Kaitlin.”