Authors: Susan Crosby

Tags: #Romance

The Groom's Revenge (12 page)

BOOK: The Groom's Revenge

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“Absolutely. I’d like to build up the wedding-planning end of the business, as well, but it takes time to go after it. I haven’t had the time.”

Tasha-wrinkled her nose. “I’m probably not your gal, then. I’d decorate the church in black crepe and constantly be asking the bride if she was sure she knew what she was doing.”

Mollie laughed. “I won’t ask you to sit in on the planning sessions with the brides.”

“Does that mean I have the job? I don’t have a resume of professional, paid experience, so there’s no one to recommend me, but I’ve served on charity boards and country club committees forever, it seems. Of course, the divorce changed all that.”

“That’s terrible! How can they kick you out because—”

“Honey, that’s not the way at all. I dumped them. I needed a break from that life, plus I kept running into Angelique. I chaired my last event last month. My friends are envious.” She lifted the vase, eyed it from all angles, then plunked it on the table. “I’d charge thirty-two fifty.”

Mollie blinked. Not only had Tasha created a spectacularly original arrangement, she’d nailed the price exactly.

Tasha chuckled. “I know. I’m good.”

“When can you start?”

“How much are you paying?” She cupped her breasts, hefted them a little. “I’m thinking about getting myself a boob job. They’ve lost their perkiness. That’ll cost a little.”

“Don’t mess with Mother Nature, Tasha,” a male voice said.

Mollie spun around upon hearing Gray’s voice. He smiled at her, then at Tasha.

“Gray McGuire, as I live and breathe,” Tasha said. She came around the counter and hugged him.

“You two know each other?” Mollie asked, amazed and just a little jealous. He should have hugged his wife hello.
He’s not a toucher, remember?
And Tasha was the one who instigated the hug.

“Obviously, you do, too,” Tasha said as she stepped away from him. “Which is good, because he’s about the only recommendation I can offer you, Mollie. He can confirm I was in charge of a charity ball he participated in a month or so ago. Tell her how successful it was, Gray.”

“You’re applying for a job?” he asked.

“I’ve got the job. We were just haggling over the wages.”

“I highly recommend her. Tasha also knows Kate Fortune,” Gray said. “I’m sure Kate would back her.”

“You know Kate?” Tasha asked Mollie. “Proud old bird, isn’t she? A helluva woman, that one. I’ve always wondered what being the matriarch of a family would feel like. A duty? A responsibility? Or a privilege?”

“Kate would probably say yes to all three,” Mollie said, “from what little I know of her. I planned a wedding for one of her nephews, who happened to marry my best friend, and I’m doing another Fortune wedding in November.”

“Rock and roll, girlfriend! You keep bringing in chents like that, and I’ll be taking over your shop completely. Now, offer me a salary I can’t refuse.”

“Let me consult with my financial adviser.” She took Gray by the arm and pulled him around the hutch, out of sight. “I had intended to offer minimum wage, but she’s worth more. She’ll probably bring in new business by tomorrow afternoon. How much can I afford to pay her?”

“Start her low, promise her quick raises based on increased volume. Offer her bonuses.”

“You mean like profit sharing?”

“Exactly. You’re going to make more, too, remember. Do you want me to handle the negotiations?”

“I can do it.” She took a step away, then came back to him. “I’d like a kiss hello.”

He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, a soft and sweet caress that held a lot of promise.

“I’ve missed you today,” she murmured, then she walked away.

Gray admired the gentle sway of her hips. He moseyed around the shop, listening to them argue about salary, then come to an agreement. They were both grinning as they shook hands.

Tasha slung a backpack over her shoulder. At the door she turned around and pointed a finger at Gray, then at Mollie. “McGuire. Are you related?”

“Just in the legal sense,” Gray said, coming to stand beside Mollie.

“No kidding? You’re married? I didn’t make the connection of your names. You must’ve tied the knot since the ball, huh? I guess I really am out of the gossip loop.” She looked a little sheepishly at Mollie. “Um, you won’t take what I said about black crepe seriously, will you? I think marriage is fine—for other people.”

“We got mamed last night,” Gray said. “There’ll be an announcement in tomorrow’s paper.”

“Last night? And you’re not off on some hedonistic honeymoon, slathering each other with tanning oil?”

“Soon,” Gray said, aware of Mollie’s full attention to the conversation.

“So, I suppose I have to keep this juicy bit under my hat?” Tasha asked expectantly.

“Seems to me you could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” Gray replied.

Tasha’s eyes lit up. “Pass the news and drum up business. Great idea. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning, Mollie.”

The second Tasha was out of sight, Gray pulled a small, gaily wrapped box from his pocket and handed it to Mollie before she could start asking questions. “Happy anniversary.”

“Of what?”

“Twenty-four hours ago you agreed to marry me.”

Laying her hand on his chest, she smiled. “California time.”

“Now who’s being logical?”

“You’re rubbing off on me.”

She moved in on him. Her voice turned sultry. “As soon as I can leave Tasha to run the shop alone, I can rub off on you even more. You could come by at lunchtime and we could go upstairs and—” She purred.

“Let’s hope she’s a fast learner. Open your present.”

She smiled, triumph in her eyes. After tucking the ribbon in her pocket, she lifted the lid. “Oh! Oh, Gray, she’s beautiful.” She lifted the tiny fairy pin out of the box. “She looks just like the one on my bell.”

“She looks like you.” He slipped his hands into his pockets.

“I love it. And I love you.” She rose on tiptoe to kiss him. “Thank you. Would you pin it on, please?”

He pinned it on her collar, then smiled at the pleasure in her face.

“Did you talk to your parents?” she asked.

The swift change of subject didn’t catch him completely off guard. He’d called her three times during the day, and each time she’d asked the same question. “I did.”

“You sound grim.”

“It’s not you, Sunshine. I didn’t follow chain of command, so they are displeased, but it has nothing to do with you. Is that clear?”

“Well, what happens from here? Are we banned from their presence? Will they turn their backs on their grandchildren? My imagination is too fertile.”

Let’s hope the rest of you isn’t.
They’d taken a chance last night and this morning by not using birth control. From here on they would. “They intend to throw us a reception, the sooner, the better. Appearances, Mollie.”

“I just want the chance for them to know me, know that I’m not a threat to their relationship with you. They should understand I don’t want anything to do with your money.”

“It’s none of their business what our relationship is, financial or otherwise. How long until you close up shop?”

Mollie heard him jangle his keys in his pocket, a sure sign of his retreat from the conversation. Little by little he was opening himself up to her, but all it took was the mere mention of his parents to clam him up again. “I’ve got an hour to go. Oh, the phone company installed a second line today.”

“Good. I’ll go upstairs and make the adjustments to your Internet server.” He walked away from her.

“Mr. McGuire.”

He turned around.

“I need a kiss goodbye.”

“I’m just going upstairs.”

She waited. After a minute he came back and kissed her, a little too temptingly. She fanned her face when he let her go.

“I’ll be waiting,” he said.

“I’ll hurry.”

Eleven

“Y
ou
what?”
Kelly shrieked louder than Yarg.

“Got married last night,” Mollie repeated quietly. She glanced over her shoulder, hoping that Gray would stay upstairs until she finished the phone call. It was ten minutes to closing. He should be getting anxious for her to finish working.

“You got married last night.” Disbelief dripped from Kelly’s words. “To whom?”

“Gray McGuire.”

Dead silence. Mollie found she could smile. If she’d been on the receiving end of the call, she would have lost her ability to speak, too.

“The
Gray McGuire?”

“Tall, dark and handsome. Brilliant.”
Not so lonely, anymore.
“That’s the one.”

“Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why so fast? Why so secretive?”

“I love him, Kel. And there wasn’t any reason to wait.”

“Not even to have your best friend stand up for you?”

“Not even. Be happy for me.”

“Oh, I am. I know he can’t be after your money, at least.”

Mollie laughed. “I want you to meet him. We’ll have you and Mac and Annie over for dinner soon.”

“His name sure has been mentioned lately at the Fortune family gatherings. Last Sunday, even, at the dinner you missed. I’m not sure it was all positive... Well, I must be mistaken. Gray is respected, right? Known throughout the land. My impression was that he had a black belt in playing the field.”

“I think his image is media manufactured. He’s really sweet.”

“Sweet? I’ll have to check this out myself. I’ll stop by tomorrow, okay, Mol?”

“I’ll be here. Oh, I hired someone today, so maybe we can do lunch occasionally.”

“Do lunch?” Kelly laughed. “That’s a phrase I haven’t heard from you before. Are you already turning California Society—Cripes. Are you moving?”

“He says we’re staying here.”

“I’ll make sure he knows you’re not allowed to move. See you tomorrow. I want all the details.”

Mollie hung up the phone, locked the door, turned over the Open sign, then hurried upstairs, two steps at a time. Finding Gray huddled over her computer, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his. “I missed you.”

He made a sound that might indicate he was aware she was there, but he didn’t stop scrolling the screen.

“Is the honeymoon over already, Mr. McGuire?”

He grunted, then typed on the keyboard.

She decided not to be irritated. Instead she straddled him, blocking his view of the monitor. Mission accomplished.

“Is it six already?” he asked, his attention flatteringly complete.

She squirmed in his lap. “More than that, I think,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Or it will be soon, I hope.”

“And you say you’re not good at math ”

She flashed him a smile. “What were you working on so intently?”

He unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, then another. “Your P and L.” Another. His fingertips grazed her flesh.

“Um. P and L?”

“Profit and loss breakdown for the past three years.” He finished unbuttoning her, then slid his hands temptingly around her ribs to unhook her bra with far too much ease.

A black belt in playing the field.
“You do that awfully efficiently,” Mollie muttered, tom between jealousy and building desire.

“Figure out your P and L?” he asked innocently.

He tugged off her blouse and bra, tossed them aside, then filled his hands with her breasts.

“You’re fond of this position, I’ve noticed,” she said, her voice hitching as he thumbed her nipples.

“So are you. Which is why you put yourself here.” He bent his head and drew a hard crest into his mouth.

“Perky enough?” she asked, shifting her shoulders, loving the way his hands felt against her breasts, his tongue against her nipple.

He bit down, lightly but arousingly. “You’re just right.” Honesty rang in his voice. “Everywhere.”

“I sure do like this part of marriage,” she said on a sigh.

“Are there other parts you don’t like?”

“I don’t know yet. We haven’t done much else.” She sucked in a breath as he slid a hand down the placket of her jeans to cup her intimately. “Oh, that’s n-nice. Let’s go to bed.”

He earned her to the bedroom, which she thought was romantic and sexy and brought tears to her eyes. He laid her down, then stretched out on her and kissed her like he’d never kissed her before——and kissing was one of his best skills.
A black belt in playing the field.
No, she wouldn’t think about how he’d gotten so good at kissing. And unhooking bras. And making love.

“I’m going to have to leave some protection here if this is going to happen very often,” he murmured as he helped to slide off her jeans.

“Are we going to use birth control, after all?” She felt a little awkward being naked while he wasn’t. He remedied that right away, however, returning quickly to blanket her body with his again.

“For now. Is that all right with you?”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“If you can think
that
clearly, Sunshine, I haven’t been doing my job.”

“Oh, so now I’m a chore on your to-do list, huh?” It was so important to her that he have fun. She desperately needed to wipe away his somberness. He lived in a world she couldn’t begin to comprehend, his head filled with concepts, his heart guarded by barbed wire. Somehow she was going to cut through that wire fortress. And she knew she had to start in the bedroom, the only place he seemed to forget everything else in his structured life.

“How did you know about my to-do list?” He levered himself up enough to look at her. “This is item number fourteen, and I’m behind schedule, so let’s speed it up, wife We should’ve been done by now and on to item fifteen.”

Gray laughed as she poked him in the ribs. He moved his legs to cover hers, keeping her still. “Better be careful how you squirm around or birth control won’t be a question at all.”

“Oops.” She pursed her lips, her eyes sparkling. “What’s next on your list?”

“Taking my new bride to our hotel, feeding her dinner, lounging in the whirlpool tub with her, giving her a massage.”

“Sounds like one lucky bride.” She brushed her fingers through his hair again and again, her smile tender.

He breathed her name, overwhelmed by everything she had come to mean to him in less than a week. “Luckier groom,” he murmured right before he kissed her, passionately, infinitely, measuring the progress of her response by her encouraging little moans, the eager arch of her hips, the impatient glide of her hands. Tuned in to her completely, he knew when she started to peak and intentionally slowed her down, dragging out the moment, knowing she was aware of little but pleasure. He wouldn’t give in to it himself. Not yet. He needed to take her up again, needed to hear her say she loved him again just as she went over the top, the declaration that no one else had ever made. Did she really love him, though? Or was it infatuation and lust?

And how long would she put up with not hearing the words in return?

Mollie liked seeing her clothes hung next to his in the closet, making the marriage more real to her. His hotel suite was just as she had anticipated—polished wood, elegant upholstery, toewriggling carpet. A bathroom bigger than her bedroom at home. A bed that could sleep four. Everything perfectly beautiful and perfectly anonymous.

They’d already eaten dinner, provided by room service. Having finished unpacking the two suitcases of belongings she’d brought along, she returned to the living room, where Gray was busy at the computer. Certain that he wasn’t aware of her, she sank to the floor to watch him, something she hadn’t been able to do before. She admired the way he could focus so completely—on work, when he needed to, and on her, when he wanted to. She wondered how much time to give him before she dragged him away from that blasted computer.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Do you want me to get that?” she asked.

He turned around, blinked, then stood and moved to the door. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Half an hour.”

His mouth lifted on one side. “You have not.”

“Okay. Half a minute.”

Chuckling, he disappeared behind a privacy divider to answer the door. After a minute, he came over to where she sat, dropping an envelope in the trash can along the way before he passed her the contents.

“What’s this?” she asked.

Somehow he managed not to give her a what-are-you-an-idiot? look.

“It’s a credit card, Mollie.”

“Dumb question, huh?”

“I want you to use it.” He dropped down cross-legged beside er, not looking anywhere near as comfortable as she did “Promise you’ll splurge a little on yourself.”

She smiled at his serious expression. “Okay.”

“Promise.”

She crossed her heart. “We need to talk about a few things.”

“Can we talk on the couch?”

“I’ve got a better idea.” She needed to get him into the bedroom, where he would touch her, not just sit beside her and have a business discussion. “Let’s start the water in the bathtub, and while we’re waiting for it to fill, we can talk.”

Gray detoured into the bathroom and started the tub filling before he sat on the bed, his back against the headboard. He watched Mollie dig out a piece of paper from her purse, then she plopped next to him, angling herself to put her head in his ap. He threaded his fingers through her beautiful hair, fanning t against the deep blue bedspread.

“This is
my
to-do list,” she said, fluttering the sheet at him.

“What’s on it?”

“Number one, get my name changed on my driver’s license, an registration, social security card and everywhere else necessary. Number two, call my mother-in-law.”

“You don’t have to put yourself through that.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” She flattened the paper against her stomach. Her eyes pleaded with him. “I’ll win her )ver. I’ll call her and write her and visit her. I’ll be friendly and caring. She has to love me someday.”

Gray marveled at Mollie’s innocence, which protected her but also set her up for being hurt, too. “I can see you’re determined about this.”

“You’re very perceptive.” She smiled sweetly. “Number hree, convince Gray we can’t live in a hotel room.”

“It’s convenient, Mollie. You don’t have to cook or clean or do laundry.”

“You mean they do your laundry, too?”

“Of cour—”

“Your underwear?”

He stared at her for a minute, then started to laugh. “Everyhing.”

“Well, no one is touching my underwear.”

“Except me.” He slid his hand inside her blouse and hooked a finger under the edge of her bra, resisting exploring her further. Business first.

“Except you,” she said.

“You can’t take care of a business, an apartment and this place, Mollie. It would wear you out. Plus, I like living here My office is here for now. It’s quiet.”

“Then you can use it as your office all day, but we can live in my apartment at night. We’ll redecorate. Get a bigger bed It’ll be nice. You’ll see.”

Eagerness lit up her face. Not for the first time, he felt the difference in their ages, their experience. Eleven years—but a lifetime. Analytical—emotional. Not much in common, in the end. And yet she balanced him in ways he hadn’t considered. Together, they made one well-rounded person.

“Actually, Sunshine, I was thinking we should turn yow apartment into your office. You could take your clients there, keep all your business-related files. Now that you’ll have help in the shop, you can go upstairs during the day and enter your work into the computer, then you won’t have to do paperwork at night like you always have.”

“Um, about the computer.”

Her tone of voice indicated that this was something he wouldn’t want to hear. “What about it?”

“I, um, don’t really want to computerize my business.”

“Why not?” Did he sound as shocked as he felt?

“It’s too much work.”

“It’s going to save you work.”

She sat up. “I order supplies based on instinct and experience I don’t need a tracking program to figure it out for me. It’s in my head. And it’s easy to write out bills by hand as soon as I’m done with a job.”

“Why did you let me install programs and enter your data if you knew you wouldn’t use it?”

“Think about it.”

He did. He came up blank.

“Gray.” She took his hand in hers. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

BOOK: The Groom's Revenge

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