Must-Have Husband (Summer Grooms Series) (8 page)

Chapter Five

Thankfully for Mac, the meal portion of the evening passed a
lot more pleasantly. They were seated at a table with Linda and her gregarious husband,
Beau, as well as Ollie and his girlfriend, Trudy. Trudy had come in late,
rushing over from her stint as an intern at a local television station. She
hoped to work in broadcast news someday and had the pretty face and nicely
even-toned voice to carry off being an anchorwoman. He learned that Ollie had
gained entry into a prestigious film production master’s program near Los
Angeles, and that Linda was an accountant and Beau was in medical school. The
Olivers were one incredibly ambitious and educated family. On the way here, he’d
learned that Connie was still figuring out what she wanted to do. While she’d
majored in studio art with a concentration in photography in college, she’d
never quite found the fit for her art. More than anything, she loved to
photograph food, which Mac found both quirky and charming. Linda had assured
him that Connie was also a fabulous baker. She made the most wonderful cakes
and pies, very detailed too. She’d even styled a cake like a human brain for
Beau’s birthday when he’d been studying anatomy, complete with a prefrontal
lobe and all. Since she’d not yet found a market for her competing and unusual
talents, Connie worked as a docent at a children’s museum in order to pay her
bills.

Especially after seeing the lavish lifestyle she’d come
from, Mac couldn’t imagine Connie having difficulty with finances. He found it
admirable she aspired to stand on her own two feet, even though she’d unmistakably
come from money. All of the Oliver children appeared to share that trait. Elizabeth
and Wendell Junior must have done something right. In Mac’s case, he’d never
considered that he had any option other than forging out on his own. He’d grown
up with a hardworking yet loving single mother who’d worked double shifts at
the bakery to pay for school extras so he could stay enrolled in the most
competitive courses. Her support and his own dedication had paid off by landing
him a full scholarship to the forestry program at Berkeley. Mac had never
wanted to do anything but work outdoors. He’d initially considered working for
the National Park Service but ultimately found running his own business—and
being his own boss
—
to
be the perfect fit. That was until everything went up in smoke.

His dinner plate was cleared and a flaming dish was placed
before him. “Bananas Foster,” Connie explained with a sweet smile. Mac couldn’t
believe they were serving dessert again. Not after having cake and champagne as
appetizers… then a summer squash bisque
to
start
… followed by the apple, pecan, and goat-cheese salad… wrapping up
with prime rib and lobster…

“I don’t know how you girls can eat like this and still keep
your figures.”

“StairMaster,” Linda assured him with a grin.

Connie nodded in agreement, eagerly digging into her second
dessert, but Mac didn’t believe he could fit in one more bite. Already, he was
bursting at the seams, particularly in this too-tight jacket. A server came
around with coffee as the band picked up its tempo. The music was saucy and
upbeat, and Connie must have liked it. He could hear her tapping her feet in
time to the rhythm under the table. Wendell Junior silenced the band and took
his place center stage. “Honored guests, friends, and family, we’re delighted
you could join us tonight for my father’s very special celebration. And in
honor of the man of the hour, I hope you’ll all fulfill his request to dance
until your shoes fall off.” A ripple of laughter erupted from the crowd as
Grandpa Oliver watched, beaming, from the sidelines. He motioned for his son to
hand him the microphone, then took it to address the room.

“It was very kind of you to come this evening. Very kind of
all of you, indeed. And I can’t thank you enough for your donations to my
chosen charities. The art museum and community playhouse will both benefit
greatly from your generosity, and will hopefully keep entertaining others long
past the time this old man is gone.” As if to prove his frailty, he broke into
a wheezing cough. Elizabeth appeared and took the microphone while Grandpa
Oliver continued to breathe hoarsely. “Thank you. Thank you all again.”

He beckoned Elizabeth toward him and whispered something in
her ear as she held the microphone at her side. She brought the cordless mike
to her mouth and her face warmed in a smile. “The birthday boy has a special request.
Before we begin the general dancing, he’d like to welcome Connie’s new fiancé
to the fold with a special introductory couple’s dance.”

Mac’s coffee sloshed sideways as he rapidly set his cup down
on its saucer.

“Ladies and gentleman,” Elizabeth went on, “may I present to
you our daughter Connie’s newly betrothed, Adam ‘Mac’ McCormack.” She gestured
grandly in his direction, and people applauded. Mac wanted to crawl under the
table, but Connie stopped him by taking his hand.

“I can’t dance,” he whispered to her, his pulse picking up a
notch.

“Of course you can,” she said with a smile.

Mac heard cups clattering against saucers and dessert forks
scraping dishes as Connie led him toward the center of the room. Was it his
imagination, or were people actually whispering behind their hands about his
boots?

Wendell Junior gave a signal to the bandleader, and the
quartet began to play something with a lot of swing and dip. Mac had no clue
what he was doing, so he let Connie lead as she pulled him along. Soon he was
following her example, rocking back and forth and stepping sideways to the
beat, all the while holding Connie’s hand. He didn’t know how she made it look
so easy as she moved gracefully to the music, employing that seductive sway to
her hips. Suddenly she eased forward, and Mac realized he was supposed to lift
his arm so she could pass underneath. The moment he did, he felt something pop
behind his right arm. The next thing he knew, Connie was passing behind him and
circling around on the left, taking that hand and yanking back hard as she
stepped out in front.
Rip
. Mac was
sure he’d heard it, another seam tearing in his jacket. He hoped no one would
notice, because there was no stopping Connie now. She was alive with the beat,
her sweet face pink with exertion. Or maybe it was perspiration. Her pearl
necklace bobbed in time to the music.
Swish.
She flung him forward, then pulled him back with both hands, tugging him up
against her, as threads gave way in the seat of his pants. He had to say
something, get her to stop. But then Elizabeth saved the moment by urging the
rest of the guests onto the floor.

Once they were surrounded by a sea of gyrating bodies, Mac
forgot all about his failing wardrobe. All he could think of was Connie, with
her gorgeous blue eyes and that beautiful smile on her lips. Any man who’d
walked away from her must have been an idiot. She was lively and fun and
—
Holy Cow
, he thought as she spun him
around again
—
built
to last! Suddenly, Mac realized the music had stopped, and he had Connie
pressed right up against him as she wound her arms around his back. Party
guests clapped and oohed and aahed at the lovely couple, knitted closely together
on the dance floor.

Out of nowhere, a chorus erupted. “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” The
crowd became more and more insistent, cheering and clanking goblets with silver
spoons.

Connie gazed up at him, her cheeks bright red. “We don’t
have to.”

But if that was how she felt, why was there expectation in
her eyes? Mac had seen that look in a woman before, and he knew exactly what it
meant. It meant she wanted him to, oh yes, she did. And boy, in the heat of
this crazy moment, didn’t he want her too. Mac lowered his mouth to hers,
unable to fight its magnetic pull, as the crowd raged on, hooting and hollering
as their lips drew closer. Mac cradled her head in his hands, enjoying the
silken feel of her hair while his mouth hovered over hers.

“Mac,” she breathed, panting lightly. “Don’t…stop.”

And he didn’t. He laid it on with all he had as people
cheered and clinked glasses around them in celebration. And man, didn’t her
mouth taste good, all sweet and sugary like… Wait a minute. Bananas Foster? No
sooner had that thought hit when a cold blast of air assaulted his bottom. Mac
pulled back in shock to see his trousers had slid down to his ankles, and both
of his jacket sleeves had popped off!

“Wow,” he heard an older woman say from nearby. “Does she
have that effect on
all
her fiancés?”

Chapter Six

Mac heard a knock at his door and cracked it open.

“Are you all right?” Connie asked with a worried look. She
was still in her nice dress and pearls, looking as beautiful as ever. After his
extremely embarrassing moment, Mac had hustled to his room to change back into
his flannel shirt and jeans and hadn’t resurfaced since. Despite the dancing,
his ankle seemed relatively back to normal, so he’d dispensed with the ace
bandage and dropped it in his pack. He’d since heard car doors popping open and
vehicles driving away, so figured most of the guests had left by now.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said. “Downstairs, I
mean.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

She brought her hand to her mouth to disguise a giggle. “You
have to admit, it
was
kind of funny.”

“Funny?”

“Oh, Mac,” she said with a teasing lilt. “Nobody holds it
against you that you did a striptease in front of the family. In fact, I think
some of the older ladies kind of liked it.”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes with a challenge. “Did
you
like it, Connie?”

She blushed suddenly. “Well, I… The truth is, I wasn’t
looking.”

The heck she wasn’t. Mac had seen her looking, all right.
Ogling was more like it. And from the look in her eyes, she’d liked what she’d
seen. “I can show you again, if you’d like to make sure…?” He brought a hand to
the waist of his jeans, resting it on his belt.

She blinked hard and stepped back. “Oh no. That won’t be
necessary.”

“Well, there you two are,” Elizabeth said, striding toward
them down the long hall. “Mac,” she said, addressing him. “I hope you’re
feeling better. In the Oliver house, crazy things happen. Nobody will even
remember by morning.”

“Thanks. That’s very gracious of you.”

“Anyhow.” Elizabeth clapped her hands together and gave them
each a delighted look. “I have just the right thing to lighten the moment.” She
turned toward Mac. “I’m sure Connie’s filled you in on the family’s traditional
wedding gown?”

“Yes, she has,” he answered honestly.

“Then maybe it’s time you saw it.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be bad luck before the wedding?”

“Only when it’s on the bride,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

Elizabeth pressed open the door to the gold room, exposing
an elegant wedding gown on a mannequin positioned near the curtained window. Nearby
lamps bathed the delicate fabric in their glow. The dress was intricately cut
and made of hand-sewn lace. It appeared to have once been snowy white but had
faded slightly over time.

Century-old pearls swept down the train, which fanned out on
the floor, shimmering in the soft light. Connie sighed in spite of herself. It
really was a magical dress. Made more magical still by all of the incredible
women who had worn it, including her own mother at Grandma Oliver’s request.
Since she hadn’t had any daughters and Wendell Junior had been the son to marry
first, her grandma has insisted Elizabeth wear the gown in order to begin the
new tradition and bestow the dress with its second blessing, bearing witness to
another union blessed by God.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Elizabeth asked Mac. “I’m sure Connie
has told you it’s been in our family for years. Grandpa Oliver’s wife Melissa
wore it first, and then I did, as did the wives of my husband’s two brothers.
Each of the granddaughters has worn it too. That is…” She turned her eyes on
her daughter. “All of them except for Connie. It’s a joy to know that her turn
is coming next.”

“Next! Next!” A parrot squawked from a cage in the corner,
startling Mac, who hadn’t seen it earlier.

“Well, hey there, buddy,” he told the big bird as it fluffed
its feathers.

“Well, hey there, buddy!” the parrot answered.

“That’s Gilbert,” Elizabeth said with a laugh, “sentinel of
the dress.”

“Sentinel?” Mac questioned.

“Everyone takes dress security very seriously around here,”
Connie said. She hoisted a large volume off the dresser and handed it to him. “
The Book of Rules,
” she proclaimed with
mock seriousness as the weight of it settled in Mac’s hands.

The parrot squawked. “Book of Rules! Book of Rules!”

“Wow. Are you serious?” Mac asked the women.

“Oh yes,” Elizabeth said, holding up a finger. “My
sister-in-law Mona, who is the official guardian of the dress in New York,
takes great care to see there are no infractions.”

“That’s because, in the past, there were,” Connie explained.
“Aunt Kara tried to hand-wash it rather than send it through the specialized
service.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “And this was after their
Charleston home was hit by the hurricane.”

“Hurricane?” Mac asked.

“The sleeves were horribly damaged,” Connie confessed, “so
we had to have a professional restyle it without them.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Thus we now have rules…”

“The dress must go on over the head and never up over the
hips,” Connie said, as if reciting from memory.