With a sigh, he said, “Maybe I’m not cut out for this, Fred. I can always try to sell it.”
“Nonsense,” Fred bellowed. “Your dad wanted you to have The Wright Drink. He told me many times.”
“Would have been nice for him to tell me too.” He hadn’t meant to utter that out loud, but he couldn’t take it back now. Fred paused. Finally, he put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and squeezed.
“I have to get going. I’m meeting a client near Mount Vernon and I heard the Parkway is backed up.”
Panic washed over Jack. “But Cosmo?” he asked helplessly.
Fred laughed as he quickly headed for the door. “You’ll be fine.”
“He shouldn’t even be in here. There are health-code violations. Right?” Were there? He had no idea.
“James had him in here all the time. Cosmo liked to sleep behind the bar.”
“Fred, wait...”
But Fred didn’t wait. Jack was alone with a little dog—and with his thoughts, which was even worse.
He was in no better place than he was before. He still needed to figure out how to turn the bar around. Or sell. Despite Fred’s protests, Jack was considering the idea to be a very viable option.
Ashamed of the thought, he walked to the middle of the bar. In the past, this would be the point where he stepped outside for a smoke. A little stress relief. Since that was no longer an option, Jack decided to have a much-needed tête-à-tête with Cosmo.
He placed the dog on the floor. Cosmo looked up at him with adoring eyes. “Listen, I like dogs. I do. But I’m not the most stable guy on the planet.”
Cosmo shifted and then lifted his leg and peed.
Jack sighed again. Loudly. “You really going to do that in public? In the middle of a bar where people eat and drink?”
Cosmo tilted his head, as if he were considering a reply. He just looked at Jack and walked to another corner of the bar and sat. And stared back at Jack.
“Damn it.” Jack ran his hands through his hair. He swore the dog had a look on his face akin to “na-na na-na boo-boo.”
Frustrated, he went to the supply closet and retrieved cleaning supplies. “Housebroken, my ass.”
He cleaned up the mess and shoved the soiled paper towels into a trash bag. Then he rummaged through Cosmo’s luggage and found a blanket and small bed. He stuck them under the bar, and the dog pranced over to them and made himself comfortable.
“Stay,” Jack said. “I’m going to throw out this little mess.”
He didn’t think dogs really smiled, but this one looked to be grinning ear to ear.
“I mean it, Prince Charming. Stay.”
He pushed through the back door that led to the alley behind the bar. He threw the black bag into the dumpster. Hard.
March was notorious for unpredictable weather, but today was beautiful. Mild temperature, with a nice breeze. Good day for a walk. Maybe a bit of exercise would help clear his mind. Bring a bit of clarity to his current situation.
He stepped away from the dumpster and glanced up and down the alley. He was unfamiliar with these businesses. He’d have to meander down Prince Street to familiarize himself. He did know there was a seafood restaurant, off to the right, and the door on the left led to...was it a wedding-dress shop? The windows were a little too high to see inside and protected by blinds, in any case.
Jack shook his head. So much had changed in this area of the city since he’d returned. He was actually rather proud to see Alexandria’s expansion.
Then suddenly a movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned as a blur of white ruffles began to pour out of the window he’d just been gazing at.
What the hell?
The mass of material made a strangled sound as it continued to shimmy out of the window. A few more inches and a head of curly auburn hair topped with a veil surfaced.
He froze at the sight of a bride climbing out of the window. Either that or a life-size marshmallow had just exploded into the alley.
Yep, that door definitely led to a bridal shop.
“Gotta get out. Gotta get out,” the bride chanted breathlessly.
He’d heard of runaway brides, but this was something else. He would have chuckled, but the woman suddenly slipped, leaving her and that massive dress dangling from the windowsill. He assumed her feet were under there somewhere, but it seemed like all of that fluff had swallowed them.
She let out a squeak and Jack rushed over to help. “Hang on, I got you.”
Another little yelp sounded and her arms shook right before she fell... Right on top of Jack. He tried to catch her, but with all that dress, he wasn’t sure what body part he had managed to grab hold of. All he knew was that he was falling to the hard ground of the alley, with a pile of lace and satin and soft woman covering him.
A friend of his caught the bouquet at a wedding once. Apparently he’d taken it a step further and caught the bride.
Chapter Two
Emerson Dewitt knew two things for sure.
First, she was lying on top of a strange man, in the dirty alley behind her mother’s exclusive bridal boutique. And second, she was still wearing the ten-thousand-dollar wedding dress that had given her the urge to flee in the first place.
It was a strapless gown with a ruched bodice, and it had a fit-and-flare style, with an emphasis on the flare part. The bottom half of the dress exploded into layer upon layer of puffy white organza and tulle covered in delicate crystals and ruffled flowers. It was as close to wearing a cloud made out of cotton balls as she would probably get. Although, cotton balls didn’t weigh anything. This frilly monstrosity felt like it would clock in at about eighty pounds.
And surely her savior, whoever he was, didn’t appreciate having an eighty-pound dress, plus a woman, crash-land on top of him. At least the fall appeared to knock the anxiety attack right out of her—she could feel her pulse returning to normal. She couldn’t believe she’d just climbed out of a window. This had to take over the number-one spot on the list of craziest things she’d ever done.
“I’m so sorry,” Emerson said, shifting her weight and trying to rearrange herself and the dress. If she’d so much as knocked a crystal loose on this dress, her mother would kill her.
“’t’s ’kay,” the man mumbled in a deep voice. She could feel him moving under her as he attempted to push the various layers of material out of his way.
“No, it’s not. Let me just...” She broke off as she tried to figure out how to get up gracefully. Only, a second later, she realized she’d left grace and all other etiquette behind the moment she’d decided to fling herself out the window.
After a few more moments of rustling about, Emerson and her Good Samaritan had freed themselves and were finally standing again. That’s when she got her first look at him.
And damn, he was sexy. Tall and muscular, with dark, disheveled hair and dark eyes to match. Eyes that were currently giving her a suspicious once-over as he brushed dirt off his pants.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I am, thanks to you,” she said, with her voice sounding a little breathier than she’d like. “Emerson Dewitt.” She stuck a hand out to shake. He grasped it and she shivered.
“Jack Wright.” He looked around the alleyway, eyeing the window to her mother’s shop. “Is there somewhere I can take you? Back to the shop?” His gaze fell over her attire. “To a church?”
In spite of everything else, she laughed. “Definitely not to a church. I guess you’re probably wondering why a bride would climb out a window.”
He nodded gravely but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“You see, I was trying this dress on and then...well, someone must have sucked all of the air out of the room, and I was seeing black spots in front of my eyes and then...” She sighed, long and hard. “I’ll take �
��ways to have a panic attack’ for five hundred.”
Again, he nodded. “I see. Well, marriage is a big step.”
She cocked her head. “Marriage?” She felt her nose crinkle. “I’m not...oh of course you would think that.” She smoothed down one of the flouncy flowers on the front of the gown. “I’m not getting married.” Blew that chance last year.
Jack remained still for a moment. Finally, his brows creased. “And you would be in a wedding dress why?”
She sighed. “Funny story.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and the motion stretched the fabric of his T-shirt, so she couldn’t help but notice the rippling muscles underneath. Yum. She looked up—high up, because Jack Wright was very tall—to see Jack waiting patiently.
He pointed to the door of the wedding shop. “Why don’t we get you inside? My dad’s—that is, I own The Wright Drink. Looks like you could you use one.”
“Right drink, wrong drink, I’ll take either. Thanks.” She glanced down and happened to notice something. Something very bad. “Ohmigod!”
“What’s wrong?”
“I got dirt all over this dress. My mother is going to seriously kill me.”
Jack peered at her dress. “Don’t worry. I can get that out with a special mixture my dad came up with.”
She arched an eyebrow in suspicion.
“You don’t own a bar for as long as my dad did without having a great hangover cure and a fail-safe stain remover.”
He held the door open and led Emerson through the back of the bar. He gestured for her to take a seat. She took a moment to observe the space. It was nice. The bar, a large, continuous square made of a dark wood, dominated the room. Glasses of various shapes and sizes hung from the shelving above it. And gold fixtures gave the place an old-timey feel, even if the gold needed a good polish. It reminded her of the reruns of the show Cheers. All it was missing was Norm and Cliff at one end of the bar.
Jack appeared in front of her, with the bar separating them. He handed her a rag. “Just dab lightly at the dirt. Should come right out.”
Miraculously, it did! She was saved, for now.
“Thank you so much,” she said gratefully.
“No problem.”
She continued to inspect the dress and clean up any imperfections she found. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and jumped out of her chair.
“What is that?”
“Huh?” Jack questioned. “Oh sorry. That’s Cosmo, my dad’s dog. Apparently.”
Emerson clapped her hands together. “A dog!” She crouched down and the poodle-like dog pranced right over to her, with the charms on his collar jingling while he did.
“Aren’t you the cutest thing? You are so handsome. Yes, you are.” She lost herself in petting the dog, who rolled right over on his back. She obliged by scratching his tummy. “Do you like your belly scratched? Yes, you do.” She met Jack’s unamused eyes. “He is the sweetest thing.”
“Don’t be fooled,” Jack said dryly. “He peed on the floor ten minutes ago.”
“Well, maybe you should have taken him out. It wasn’t your fault, cutie-pie. No, it wasn’t.” She took in Cosmo’s adorable little face, with his brown nose. “Are his eyes...green?” she asked Jack.
“Seems like it. I’ve never seen a dog with eyes like that before. They’re very human. I feel like he looks at me and knows things he shouldn’t.”
Emerson laughed. She picked up the dog and cradled him to her side, the way she would with a baby. Cosmo wrapped his legs around her and seemed quite content.
“I can’t believe you’re picking him up,” Jack said. “Your dress.”
Emerson absolutely adored dogs. Her mother had been firmly against them getting a dog, no matter how much Emerson and her sister had begged. Her dad begged too, for that matter. Of course, a dog would not have been good for her mother’s antiques and perfect house.
“You better be careful.” Jack wagged a finger at her. “I’m not sure if my dad’s stain remover can get dog pee out of a wedding dress.”
She kissed the top of Cosmo’s head. “You won’t go potty on me, will you? No, you won’t.”
“You’ve been warned. Now, what can I get you?” Jack asked. “Water? Hot tea? Maybe a glass of wine? I have a nice sauvignon blanc.”
“A beer would be great, actually. Whatever you have on tap that’s seasonal. And Cosmo needs some water.”
He blinked, but quickly reached for a mug and pulled on the tab in front of him to fill up the beer. Once the frothy, amber-colored liquid was in front of her, Emerson downed half of it in a single gulp, relishing the malty taste.
A look of surprise, followed by amusement, crossed his face. “Thirsty?” He filled up a bowl with water and placed it on the floor. Emerson let Cosmo down and the dog happily trotted toward the bowl and delicately lapped at the water. Satisfied, he returned to his bed, walked in a circle and then settled into a little ball.
Emerson let out a burp. “Excuse me. My mother would kill me if she could see this.” She drank the rest of the drink and held the mug up. “Maybe a water now?”
“Of course.” As he grabbed a clean glass and filled it with ice and then water, he eyed her. “Want to talk about it?”
She liked his eyes. They were a dark chocolaty brown. Serious and mysterious, but there was that twinkle after all.
Emerson took a sip of the water and settled in to explain. “My mother owns Dewitt’s Bridal, over on Prince Street.” She gestured in that direction now. “When she gets new dresses in stock, she asks me and my sister to try them on. She likes to see them on a real person before she recommends them to a customer.”
“So you were helping your mom out?”
“Basically.” She broke off as she looked down at the dress with an eye roll.
“Go on,” he urged, waiting for her to finish her thought.
But Emerson didn’t know what to say. What could she say really? The truth? Jack might be nice, and he had provided her with some much-needed alcohol during a trying moment, but he was still a stranger. Did she dare tell him that, as soon as she’d taken one look at herself wearing the wedding dress, in the three-way mirror, the air had whooshed out of her lungs? Her heart had begun beating so fast and so hard that she could practically hear it. The room had started to spin.
She played with the straw in her glass of water.
“Emerson?” Jack asked. “What happened? You seem...upset.”
She sighed. “It’s stupid, really. I saw myself dressed like this and I freaked. I was being dramatic and unnecessarily emotional.” She attempted a smile and shrugged, trying to make light of the situation.
The reality was the last time she’d been wearing a wedding dress, she’d been standing in the back of a church, waiting for her fiancé. But he hadn’t shown. Only the note had arrived.
Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Climbing out of a window is a bit drastic. But something must have made you feel that way to need to escape so badly.”
“Like I said, I overreacted. I’m just not that into weddings.”
Jack nodded. “You don’t want to get married?”
I did. He didn’t.
Not being into weddings and not being into her marriage were two very different things. Emerson nodded. She agreed with Jack’s presumption because it seemed a lot simpler than going into the whole mess. Let him think she didn’t want to get married. It’s not like she’d see him again after today.
“That must be hard, since your mom owns a bridal shop.”
“Understatement.” She sat up straight and put on her best impression of a Southern accent. “Why, Beatrice Dewitt will have both of her daughters married faster than you can say mint julep.”
Behind the bar, Jack grinned. Emerson felt lucky to already be sitting down. She was a sucker for a good smile on a ha
ndsome face.
“Mama is from Spartanburg, South Carolina.”
He met this information with a blank stare.
“She was a deb. You know, a debutante?”
His facial expression didn’t change. She was going to have to spell this out.
“Southern women live for weddings. My mama’s chosen profession only adds to her wedding-mania. Being surrounded by silk organza gowns, lacy veils and sparkly accessories on a daily basis does nothing to suppress her desire to see me married.”
“But you’re not engaged right now?”
“I’m not even dating anyone at the moment. But that doesn’t stop Mama. My younger and incredibly perfect sister, Amelia, isn’t helping matters. She got married six months ago. I’d had a bit of a reprieve while Mama was busy planning her wedding.”
She clasped her hands in her lap and studied the bright coral nail polish that was chipping. Her mother had been harping on it earlier.
“So now that your sister’s married, your mother is trying to get you married off, even though you’re not interested.”
Again, she didn’t correct his assumption. Mainly because she didn’t want to tell him that she had been engaged. She had done the whole song and dance.
“This year is my parents’ thirtieth wedding anniversary. They’re having a huge party in a month. I think she’d like me to have a date. Or a fiancé. Or a husband.” Emerson threw her hands into the air. “It would complete the perfect family image. Amelia did her part.”
“Is your sister as pretty as you?”
Emerson sat back and swallowed, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Um, no—I mean yes—I mean... Thank you.” She bit her lip. “My sister is gorgeous. But we don’t look alike. Except for the hair color.” She ran a hand over her curly auburn hair until her fingers tangled with the floor-length veil.
“Amelia is tall and thin and beautiful. She looks like a model. I’m short and curvy and definitely not.”
Jack took her in. His gaze swept from the top of her head, over her body, all the way down to the ground. Slowly. Surely. “I think you look just fine.”
The Dating Arrangement Page 2