Next to me, I could see Laura stifling a laugh. She probably remembered the time when as a teen, I was hungry all the damn time and would eat everything in sight.
“I’m starting to worry about how many crab cakes it takes to kill a man,” I went on, wanting to see more of Laura’s smile, hear more of that laugh. “Because I think I’m starting to approach deadly levels.”
Mom delicately patted her lips with a napkin. “There’s no need to be dramatic, dear.” She looked at Sharon. “Do you have a sushi chef on staff?”
“Nope! No, we have tasted enough,” I said firmly. “I’m sure we can pull together a menu with the options we’ve already tried.”
Sharon, who had looked alarmed, shot me a relieved look when my mom wasn’t looking.
Mom put up her hands in surrender. “Of course, dear. It’s your wedding.”
Is it? I wanted to ask her. But that wasn’t going to help or change anything, and I wasn’t going to have this argument in front of Mom’s assistant, Laura and Sharon, a relative stranger.
“I was rather fond of the French options,” Mom said. “Asian fusion is terribly chic right now, but if they don’t have enough options, I think you can’t go wrong with some classical French styles….”
Mom’s assistant tapped her on the shoulder. “Ma’am, your set runner is calling about your summer taping schedule.”
“Ah!” Mom stood up with a smile. “Duty calls. The life is always demanding.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Be good, dear. Ruminate on what I said, and I’ll see you when you get home.”
She waltzed out in true star fashion, like she was on a runway, with the cameras flashing around her. Her assistant followed her like a shadow.
I had to hold in my sigh of relief. As much as I trusted Laura with being a witness to my family drama—if she’d been open to hearing about it (though it was the worst way to reveal my feelings and would create a huge fucking mess)—I didn’t want a stranger like Sharon knowing that I wasn’t exactly pleased with my mother. I didn’t need gossip rags getting any tales.
I turned to Sharon. “I enjoyed the idea of a menu that wasn’t super heavy but had more food options so that people could get a lot of variety and snacks throughout the reception.”
Laura smiled at me encouragingly. “I think the lemon chicken tasted delicious.”
“I agree.” Between Laura and Sharon, I was able to figure out what I liked, and it wasn’t anything that was popular or was “all the rage” right now. It was food that I liked to eat and gave a good variety to guests and wouldn’t be too crazy to prepare, like sushi or seafood.
Finishing up the meeting, I felt much better than I had when I’d started. Laura was good at guiding me through the different options and making suggestions. I was pretty sure she only made half of those suggestions so that she could give me an opportunity to refuse something, because even in saying “no,” I was narrowing things down and considering what I liked.
It was only polite for me to walk her to her car afterwards, I told myself. It was the gentlemanly thing to do.
“There’s no way my mother is allowed to come to the cake tasting,” I said. “My stomach will explode before she’s made a decision.”
Laura chuckled. I loved being able to make her smile. When we’d been dating, it had felt like the best part of my day, the number one thing I was always trying to do. Make Laura Loomis smile. Naturally, I didn’t want to stop spending time with her now. I didn’t want to let her go.
“I’ve been thinking about your layout question,” I said, checking my phone for the time and to make sure I hadn’t missed any calls or texts. It was only about two in the afternoon. Plenty of time to find an excuse to spend more time with her. “I have to admit, I’ve never paid any attention to how tables and chairs look at a wedding. Are there different shapes? Colors?”
Laura’s eyes lit up and she nodded. I could remember her eyes lighting up like that in chemistry class when we’d been assigned as lab partners. It was how I’d met her. She knew more about the subject than I did, and I’d loved watching her eyes gleam as she launched into an explanation about the properties of magnesium.
“There’s round tables, of course, and most people prefer those,” Laura explained. “But some people want the bride and groom’s table to be different, so it’ll be a small square or rectangular table for just the two of them. Or a long narrow table, with everyone in the wedding party on one side, so that they’re all facing the other guests, kind of like royalty. And of course, your color scheme comes into play here—what color tablecloths you want, place settings, any table decorations like a bouquet of flowers. Some people want colored bows on the chairs—”
I laughed. “My brain isn’t built for visualizing this kind of thing.”
“You did ask,” Laura pointed out.
“And now I see the error of my ways.”
“I do know an event rental showroom.” Laura bit her lip with excitement, as if she had just suggested that we have sex in the backseat of the car, rather than go and check out some boring tables. “I can show you all the furniture—more tables and chairs and tablecloths and runners and chair covers than you’d ever want to see.”
I pretended to think about it. “Now, why does that sound like a threat?”
Laura laughed. “Hey, you signed up for this.”
“That I did. I can drive us, if you want. That way we can talk along the way about…” I shuddered dramatically, “…themes.”
Laura laughed again. “Oh, the horror.” She paused, then glanced at our cars.
“Your car will be fine here,” I pointed out.
Laura looked like she was irritated and about to correct me, but then her face went blank and then, carefully, neutral. “Okay,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.
On the way over, we discussed color themes again. The only “theme” I really knew about was our high school theme, but I was grinning. “Hey, what if we paint our initials in block letters like the old blue and gold ones at Grosse Pointe South.”
Laura snorted. “We can also issue people letterman jackets for the wedding prep rally.”
I laughed. “Hey, don’t tempt me.”
“Your bride didn’t go to the same high school,” Laura pointed out. “I doubt she’d appreciate you making the theme of her wedding a school, place and time that she wasn’t even a part of.”
But what if I was marrying someone who did go to the same high school?
Not that I was serious about having my old high school as a part of my wedding theme. High school had been fun, but it wasn’t my entire life and I wasn’t one of those guys who spent all his time insisting that high school was where he’d had his “glory days” and was trying to relive it all in his late 20s and 30s, or even until middle age.
Still. The idea of having a wedding where I incorporated part of my past because my bride had that same past and we were celebrating our long journey together…the culmination of our relationship…. If only I was marrying Laura instead.
At least you get to spend time together. I was glad I’d found an excuse to drag out our time today. The more time I spent with her the more time I wanted to spend with her. I was wading into dangerous waters, and I knew it, but I also had no intention of turning back.
8
Laura
I’d worked with this event rental company many times, so the owner trusted me and gave me the run of the place. It was nice, just Cade and me, nobody else around. No one to disturb our privacy.
We started in the showroom so that I could help Cade see what the finished setups looked like, and then I took him to the warehouse.
“And here are the chair covers,” I said, notebook in hand so that I could scribble down anything that caught Cade’s eye.
“Y’know, I think the Spanish Inquisition went about it the wrong way,” Cade mused. “They should’ve introduced their victims to an event furniture warehouse and made them listen to all the different kinds of chairs there
are. They would’ve had a much higher success rate.”
I laughed. “I will remind you once again that you signed up for this wedding.”
“I should have just eloped.”
“And miss getting to spend time with me?” I batted my eyes at him in exaggeration.
Though I was just teasing, the look Cade gave me was soft and serious. “No,” he said, his voice quiet. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on that at all.”
I could feel my face flushing and looked away. “Umm…anyway, as I was saying—about the chair covers—”
“Laura,” Cade laid a hand on my arm, “In all seriousness, I’m overwhelmed with the choices here.” He bowed. “I am literally bowing to your superior knowledge.”
I chuckled and he straightened up, smiling at me.
“I want you to pick out what you think would look best. I don’t know which to pick and I don’t have a preference as long as it fits the overall blue and green thing we have going on. Nothing too frilly. I like simple. Classy.”
Honestly, it was so hard to dislike him when he was being like this. Cracking jokes and turning to me for my expertise. My heart felt like it was constantly on a rollercoaster, going up and down, unable to settle down.
“I think roundtables of ten will do nicely, we can put them on the expansive lawn behind the lake house. You can set up an arch under the big tree and have the ceremony there, and there should be room for a dance floor as well.”
“I was thinking about the gazebo for the ceremony,” Cade murmured.
My face felt hot as I remembered the last time I’d been in that gazebo. The way he’d passionately made love to me before taking me upstairs to his bedroom to make love to me over and over again, coming inside of me twice. I’d been certain there was no rush greater than the one I got when I felt him spilling inside me, making me feel hot and sated.
Of course, at the time, I hadn’t realized that he was getting me pregnant. The folly of youth, not wearing condoms, not on birth control, not thinking about anything other than being together and expressing our love.
“The slats on the gazebo,” I blurted out. “It’ll block the view for some people. And because it’s circular, depending on where people are, they’ll see just you or just the bride instead of both of you. Or their view will be blocked by the other person’s back. It’s better to have you both visible to everyone.”
“Once again, I submit myself to your knowledge,” Cade said, smiling. “Do you know what to order, then? Should we place it now?”
“That would be best.” We needed to reserve everything, so that we’d have it in time for the wedding before someone else booked the spot.
We placed the order, Cade agreeing to everything and not being upset by the price. He didn’t even blink hearing it, actually. Most of my clients would want to haggle, see what deals they could get. After all, events were expensive, especially weddings, and people who weren’t in the upper crust are concerned about costs. I could completely sympathize with them. But it was still frustrating when people tried to get deals all the time from vendors who were also trying to get a fair deal and their money’s worth for their products and work.
But Cade just smiled, and thanked Ben—the owner—for his work and we went on our way. It was a refreshing change.
We got into the car and Cade drove me back to the catering company, where I had left my car. I stared out the windows, remembering how Cade had been gifted a car by his parents for his sixteenth birthday, so we’d go riding around in it all the time. Of course, his car had been a rather a flashy one, fitting for a teenage boy who wanted to show off. Everyone in high school had drooled over the car. Or Cade. Or both.
“Hey, that’s Abbot Park,” Cade noted as we approached the turn for it, and he took it. “Sorry, I just have to take this trip down memory lane.”
He grinned at me. “Remember how we’d come here when we’d skip school after lunch?”
As if I could have forgotten. We had so many steamy make-out sessions beneath the trees in the park that I’d lost track. It had been fun—a place where nobody from high school or home would find us. We could be outdoors and in nature but safe and secret at the same time.
Cade’s smile turned wicked. “Remember the time you told your mom you were hanging out with a friend that night, and we snuck back to the park after dark and made love down by the water?”
I blushed. “Yes.” I managed to keep my voice under control. There was no way I was telling him about how I had replayed that particular memory more than once in my mind during the long and lonely nights after Cade had left me.
Cade stopped the car in the parking lot and got out. I followed him as he walked down to the water, his hands in his pockets. There was a melancholic air about him, and I wondered if this was about more than just remembering fun sexual escapades from when we were teenagers.
“You all right?” I asked. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to soothe him as I once had, but the rules were different now. We hadn’t seen each other in years, he’d broken my heart when we’d last seen each other, he was engaged now—it had all changed since we’d last been together.
Cade nodded. After a moment, he spoke. “I just missed Detroit, that’s all. I missed my hometown. D.C.’s too hot and muggy and the traffic is terrible.”
“I’m sure everyone living here will be glad to know that you missed Detroit because of the better traffic,” I said, trying to cheer him up a bit.
Cade laughed softly, but it wasn’t a genuine one. He seemed…sad, and I wondered what kind of life he was living. If he was really happy with the choices he’d made. The part of me that was still nursing my broken heart had a vengeful feeling that screamed “You made your bed, now lie in it!” But the rest of me cared too much. I cared about Cade, as smart or dumb as that might be, and I didn’t want him to be unhappy.
“There are other things I miss,” Cade admitted. He turned and looked at me, his eyes full of wistfulness. “Like the people.”
At some point we’d come close enough that he could touch me if he wanted to. It would be really easy for me to reach out to him, but I kept my hands at my sides even as my heart beat wildly.
“Oh?” I said. It was just a whisper.
This moment reminded me of our first kiss, when we’d been sitting on the abandoned bleachers after school. My mom hadn’t cared where I was, and his parents had been busy, so they didn’t know—they just assumed he was always where he was supposed to be, Cade had told me—and there’d been no one around to see us. All the teachers and administrators were inside getting work done.
It had been the Fall, chilly but not cold enough for snow. Cade had said we could do homework together outside on the bleachers, where it was nice, instead of in the library, and I’d jumped at the chance to be alone with him where others couldn’t find us.
You sure your mom won’t mind if you stay? Cade had looked so earnest when he’d asked me the question.
You don’t know my mom, I’d replied. My mother didn’t care about me, she let me do whatever I wanted. High school hadn’t been just a chance to escape poverty, it had been a chance to get away from my mother and to better life that I could carve for myself with people who actually cared about me.
Cade had this sad look on his face, like he could tell how it had hurt me that my mom cared so little, even though I’d also gotten used to it. Then he’d gently, oh so gently, taken my chin in his hand and guided my face towards his, gifting me with the softest of kisses.
I had never been kissed before. Nobody had ever been interested in me. Heavyset, quiet, nerdy, who would want a girl like me? I wasn’t talkative or popular, and I wasn’t stick thin with bouncy blonde hair. Now, I was confident and proud in how I looked—I loved my curves, my auburn hair, my freckles—but as a teenager, I’d just felt awkward.
Cade had kissed me like he thought I was the most precious thing in the world.
I was jolted back to the present when Cade put his hand on my chin
, just as he had all those years ago, on the bleachers at the football field.
“The people here,” he whispered, “are irresistible.”
He leaned in and kissed me, but it wasn’t quite like our first kiss. This one, Cade pushed in, sealed our lips together, not dirty, but firm—I felt like I was being swept off my feet and before I could stop myself, I was kissing him back.
He was just as good of a kisser as I remembered him to be. I felt his hands, firm and soft, on my waist, holding me, and I planted my hands on his chest for balance. Oh, God, I could feel his muscles underneath his shirt, and I shivered with delight. When we’d last had each other, we’d been so young, just barely adults. Now, Cade was a man, through and through, and I wanted to see and feel every inch of his muscles….
What? No! No, I wasn’t going to see anything of his, because he was engaged! He was going to be married!
I pulled away, gasping, my chest heaving. My heart was racing. I was so torn—on the one hand, I wanted to step back in and kiss him more, I was swooning from his touch and his affection—but on the other hand, I was horrified and felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on my head.
“Fuck…” Cade said, running a hand through his hair. Yes, that rather encapsulated the situation, I felt.
I wanted to cry with frustration. I wanted him so badly. I was still so weak for him, like a fool, like I was still a teenager. And he had just—was he going to cheat on his fiancée now? Was he truly nothing like the good-hearted boy I’d once thought that he was?
“That—fuck.” Cade shook his head. “That was a mistake, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I was overcome by the moment, by the memories. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”
I had nothing to say. I was overwhelmed by my own emotions and so angry with myself, with both of us, that I didn’t know what to do. I just turned and started to walk back to the car.
Cade followed me. “I know that was unprofessional, Laura, and I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
The One and Only: A Single Mom Second Chance Romance (Heart of Hope) Page 7