The Calendar Brides (14 page)

She huffed and pushed his hand away. “You think you know me.”

He gave her a cockeyed grin. “That’s because I do.”

Okay, so she was feeling a little crampy and on edge this morning. Trish absolutely hated being a woman sometimes. She glanced at Leo, who was looking her up and down in an appraising way. Heat crept up her neck and fanned around her chin. She didn’t know how he could do it. Actually make her feel desirable on such a crappy morning. “You look beautiful today,” he said. “You know that? In spite of how you feel.”

“You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No.” He shook his head and stepped toward her. “I’m not really a nice guy.”

She looked up at the man she’d fallen for eighteen months ago. The one who’d asked her to the movies, then swept her away. He’d courted her, and cooked for her, dropped flowers by her office, until every last ounce of her resolve had crumbled, just as it was doing now. “Oh, yes, you are.”

He angled his chin toward the stairs and shot her a sexy grin. “How about we take our coffee up there?”

“What about Dante?”

He drew his arms around her and gave her a kiss. “He’ll wait.”

“You’re going to lose your job.”

“No I won’t,” he said, kissing her again. “I’m the best thing they have.”

You’re the best thing I have,
Trish thought, kissing him back.

Twenty minutes later, Trish scampered down the steps and grabbed her laptop off a chair. Leo lazily trailed her, straightening the collar of his shirt. “How about if I bring something home for dinner?” he asked her.

She was still out of breath from her rapid sprint into her clothes, and all that had gone before. “I’d love that, thanks.”

Trish snatched her keys off the table and Leo startled her by scooting up behind her and swatting her behind. “Oh!”

“And I…love…you,” he said with a playful grin.

 
Then he nabbed his own set of keys and opened the front door. “Ladies first!”

Trish laughed. “Such a gentleman.” She realized she should actually thank Rachel for getting that pesky Brett out of the way early, so Trish’s life would stay open to other possibilities. Just look at what she had now. She hated that she picked on Rachel sometimes, and made a secret promise to herself to do better. Rachel was the closest thing to a little sister she had, and made such an easy target. She was so darned happy and effusive all the time, it was irritating. Of course, Susan was between them in birth order, but no one in their right mind would pick on Susan, except for maybe her big sister Jane. Susan was simply inoffensive to the max. All she ever did was knit! It was then that Trish remembered her fitting. It was scheduled for six o’clock, right after work. “I might be a little late,” she said apologetically, as they each reached their cars. “I forgot I’ve got that appointment at Victor’s.”

“If I get home first I’ll keep things warm.” Dark eyes twinkled. “If you promise to do that thing again you did this morning, I’ll be waiting in bed.”

“Shush!” Her cheeks flamed as she noted their next-door neighbor bringing in his paper. But Leo just chuckled and waved goodbye, blowing her a kiss as he got in his car. He cracked his window and called sweetly, “Have a great day,
cara mia
!” Leo shoved his key into the ignition and shrugged. “Who says I don’t speak Italian?”

Chapter Thirteen

Susan

Susan squared the tiny shoulders of the pretty yellow sweater on the satin-coated baby hanger. She draped the small matching hat and pair of booties down the back, so as not to cover the stitching in front. Extending it at arm’s length, she admired her handiwork. There were six others like it, all in various pastel hues, solids, and patterned weaves. She hung them one at a time on the rack by the register that housed her newborn baby display.
 

“Do you have another like the one in blue?”

She looked up to find a handsome doctor standing there, still wearing his scrubs. She hadn’t seen him before but that wasn’t unusual. They occasionally got interns and residents from other areas, who stayed here a brief while, then were gone. And, nearly all of them were married. Likely this one was, too. You never could tell for sure, as they didn’t wear their rings in the OR.

“You mean this one?” she asked, holding it up for his approval.

He took it and examined it back and front. A swath of golden hair peered out from beneath his cap and his amber eyes reminded her of honey, deep pools of sweetness that held intelligence and warmth. Lips turned up at the corners. “I’ll take two.”

He handed it over and their fingers brushed. Susan felt suddenly overheated in her teal cashmere sweater. “I’m afraid one is all I’ve got of that sort.”

His handsome face fell in disappointment.
 

“Are you looking for twins?” she asked, resisting the urge to ask if they were his.

“Two boys, and the best-looking little dudes you’ve ever seen.” He grinned proudly and now she knew he must be the dad. He was also one of the younger surgeons around.

“Congratulations.”

He read her eyes and her misunderstanding. “Oh, no. They’re not mine.”

Susan hoped her sigh wasn’t audible. What did it matter to her if Doctor Hottie had kids? She’d never dated anyone at the hospital and wasn’t about to start now. Not that anyone was asking.

“They’re my sister’s,” he offered without her pressing further. “My sister Beth’s. She moved to Northside just last year.”

“And you…?”

He grinned again and a dimple settled at the base of his chin. “Arrived in September.”

“Just in time!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t deliver. Too…um, close. You know what I’m saying?”

“Think so.”

“Anyway!” he said happily. “All came out fine.”

“Two nephews. What fun. Do you have—?”
 

“Any of my own?”

Susan kicked herself for going there. What was she doing? Flirting? That wasn’t possible. She didn’t know how. At least she thought she didn’t.

He shook his head. “Not yet, but someday.”

“I’m sure you and your wife…” Susan bit her tongue—hard. And damn it, it hurt!

He studied her with mild amusement. “No wife.”

If the floor could open up and swallow her, now would be an excellent time.

“Who’s your supplier?” he asked, turning his attention back on the arrangement of baby sweaters. “Maybe I can contact him or her?”

Susan wanted to talk, but—oh, shoot—suspected her tongue was bleeding. She held up a hand for him to wait then turned her back briefly, nabbing a tissue from the hospital dispenser and shoving it in her mouth.

“Are you okay?” he asked from over her shoulder.

“Um-hmm.”
Dab, dab, press… There!
She balled the tissue in her hand and spun back around. “I’m the shush-plier.” Why did she sound drunk?

Doctor Hottie squinted at her mouth. “Is there something on your tongue?”

Susan rolled it around the inside of her mouth, finding a small wad of tissue stuck there. No way. Without opening, she swallowed hard, choking just a little. She covered her mouth and sucked in a gasp. “Sorry!”

He blinked, then wrinkled his brow. “Yeah, well. I was asking about—?”

“My supplier,” she said, speaking more clearly. “That’s me!”

His expression registered surprise. “You make these?”

“I do.”

“Well, that’s fantastic! They’re fantastic. You’ve got a lot of talent.”

“Thanks.”

He spoke like it was easily decided. “I’ll just commission another to match the one I like.” He stopped himself suddenly. “That is all right? You do take orders?”

She’d never done so before, but this certainly seemed the time to start. “All the time.”

“How long do you need?”

“Oh, I can get one together fairly quickly.”

“Can you have the other done by Sunday?”

That only gave her four days. And their photo shoot was Friday, the day before Haley’s wedding. There was so much going on, Susan didn’t know how she could squeeze that in.

“I don’t mean to press you, it’s just that—”

“No, Sunday’s fine. The only thing is the shop isn’t usually open on Sundays.”

“I can meet you somewhere.”

Susan ridiculously found herself wishing he’d say somewhere
like
at a bistro or a bar after work.
Instead, he said, “Like in the lobby?”

She forced a smile like this was the most natural idea, because naturally it was. “Sure. That’s great.”

“Two o’clock?”

“Perfect.”

“I don’t want to put you to extra trouble.”

“No trouble.”

“If you live far...”

“Not far at all,” she said, failing to mention Chandelier was forty minutes away.

“Then it’s a deal! I’m sorry. I’m Kyle Wright.” He held out his hand and she took it. “I didn’t get your—?”

“Susan D’Amato,” she said with a flush. Why was she so flustered around this guy? Just because he was tall, bronzed, and handsome, and apparently single… His fingers tightened around hers.

“I’ll consider it a personal favor. I’ve been looking everywhere for just the right thing and when the sweater caught my eye…” His gaze lingered on hers. “What I mean is…” His lips creased in a smile and that dimple settled again. “I’m sorry. Did you ask me something?”

She squeezed his hand back. “Don’t think so.”

They stood there for a moment frozen in time.
 

Susan thought she heard birds chirping, or maybe wedding bells. Then she realized the chimes attached to the door had sounded.

“Do you have any more of the yellow rose bouquets?” a female patron asked from beyond them.

They released each other’s grip with an embarrassed laugh.
 

“I’d better get back to work,” Susan whispered.

Kyle leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Me, too.”

And then with a wink and a nod, he was gone, leaving Susan’s heart reeling. “I’m sorry?” She turned toward the woman. “You said you’re looking for an arrangement?”

“I think I’ve changed my mind.” Her eyes followed Kyle out the door. “I’ll take one of
him.”

Chapter Fourteen

Rachel

Rachel flounced the crinoline of her skirt and did a small pirouette before the triple-mirrored dresser. Its elegant ovals shimmered in the natural light, exquisitely carved mahogany frames surrounding each pane. The bridal headband glistened like a tiara, boasting tiny silk roses all the way around. “You look like an angel,” Nona said.

She was in her grandma’s upstairs bedroom, having dropped by expressly to show her the dress. Rachel couldn’t believe Haley’s wedding was the day after tomorrow. Hers would be in the spring and come up next. “You don’t think the neckline’s too low?” She fingered the bodice, embroidered with pearls.

“I think it’s lovely. I just don’t understand why you got it so early?”

“You always say it’s best not to dally.”

“That’s true.” Nona tottered to the bed and sat, resting her feet. “You sure didn’t waste any time!”

Rachel was bursting to tell Nona about the project, but the others had sworn her to secrecy. “There’s no time like the
present.
That’s what I always say. The future’s a
gift
to all of us.”

Nona’s chocolate brown eyes studied her curiously. “Are you feeling all right, child?”

“Why, sure!” She grinned, then stole a peek at her reflection. She
did
look good in this dress. The headband worked with her curls, too. “Peachy!”

“Nobody uses that expression any more,” Nona told her. “It’s dated.”

“Says who?”

“Luigi.” Nona shrugged shyly. “That’s what his great-grandson tells him.”

Rachel scuttled over and sat beside her Nona on the bed. “So, how is the old lovebird? Tell me?”

Nona sighed heavily. “Too far away.” Her thin lips turned down, causing her chin to pucker. “Far, far away.”

Rachel laid a hand on her arm, so badly wanting to tell her. “It might not be that way forever,” she said making an effort to sound hopeful and not predictive.
 

“When you’re my age,” Nona told her, “there’s not much of forever left.”

Rachel wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her in for a hug. “That’s not like my Nona to sound pessimistic.”

“Pessimistic, no.” Nona shook her head and studied the carpet. “But I am old enough to know the score.”

“Your birthday’s coming up!” Rachel said, cheerfully changing the subject, but not really. That’s when all the girls planned to give her their surprise. November 15th. It was just before Thanksgiving and Zoe had promised they’d have the calendars back from the printers by then. They would have time between Thanksgiving and Christmas to drum up sales. They planned to divvy up duties and canvass the area. Susan would carry them at the hospital, Haley would hawk them at her bakery, Jason would bring some to work, and Dave said Lena could keep a stack on the bar by the register, too. The others had strategies as well. In fact, they had an overarching marketing plan, which, thanks to Zoe, already included a growing number of preorders and a popular presence online. Rachel could scarcely believe it! People were actually reading her blog! By the time they told Nona and presented her with a sample calendar, everything would be in place.