“That man of yours.”
Surprised, Charlie stopped in her tracks. “What did Alex want?” Was he going to call off the wedding now that she’d warmed up to the idea? Her heart hitched.
Since the day she accepted his proposal, she’d been getting used to the idea of being a part of a real family again.
Dolly waved it off. “Oh, he just wants to talk to you, that’s all.”
“And that’s not important?”
Her friend nabbed her by the arm and steered her to the dressing table. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, honey.”
Charlie sank into the small chair. “We don’t have to see each other to talk.”
“Talk, see, same thing to me.” She leaned around Charlie and picked up the hairbrush.
She glanced over at the phone. “I could call him.”
“Nope. Don’t be stirring up no bad luck now.”
A loud knock sounded on the door.
“Now what?” Dolly asked, handing over the brush to Charlie. “If that’s him again, I’m going to have to get tough this time.”
Cringing, Charlie turned in her seat and leaned sideways to get a better look. Maybe she’d be able to shout something to him. Was he getting cold feet? A sliver of dread dropped into her middle.
“If I told you once, I told you twice you can’t see her, got that, bub?” Dolly scolded as she whipped open the door. She stopped, frozen like a statue.
The silence was deafening.
“Dolly, what is it? Alex, is that you? Is something wrong?” Charlie rushed to the door.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Dolly sputtered at the sight.
Reaching her friend, Charlie nearly lost her footing. “Francine. Priscilla.” Her throat closed up.
Standing before her were visions of beauty. Gone were the usual black, dreary, and do-nothing-for-them dresses. The bridesmaids’ gowns were similar in fashion, yet Dolly had done wonders at sculpting the fabric ever so slightly here and there to bring out the girls’ best features. “I, oh, I can’t believe…” Only nonsensical things emerged from Charlie.
The sisters cried out in unison, “We’re so beautiful, don’t you think?”
Charlie nodded, dumbfounded. All speculation on Alex’s request to see her flew out of her mind at the sight of her revamped sisters.
“And it’s all thanks to you and Dolly.” Francine twirled in the light blue satin gown Charlie had specifically designed to accentuate her small waist. The V neck hinted at the swell of bosom.
Priscilla, in pale green satin, brought them back to where they were. “Can we come in? We’re here to help you get dressed.”
They entered the room, closing the door behind them. Their uncharacteristic girlish giggles had Charlie glancing at Dolly. The older woman’s wide-eyed stare had to mirror her own.
“Damn, we’re good,” Dolly said.
“Apparently so.”
Charlie hooked her arm through Dolly’s. They faced the remarkable change the make overs had wrought, not only in looks, but in their emerging bubbling personalities.
“Mother’s cozying up to an elder gentleman downstairs, so we slipped on past her. Please don’t let Mother see us until the wedding,” Francine pleaded. “She’ll have a hissy-fit and tell us to tie back our hair.” She turned her head this way and that, the lush sweep of blonde hair swinging gently around her shoulders.
For the first time, Charlie noted the professional styled hairdos. Coming closer, she fingered Priscilla’s silky auburn tresses. “How many inches did you get cut off?” Awe tinged her voice; she’d never seen the sisters in anything but one dreary style all their lives.
“Almost ten inches of hair, can you believe it? Francie only got eight cut off. But I just fell in love with this shorter bob. Don’t you just love it?”
“Yes,” Charlie said in all sincerity. “It does wonders for you.”
Dolly chimed in, “Now, we just gotta get a little makeup on the three of you, and presto, the King sisters are transformed right before everyone’s eyes. Imagine that.”
The next half hour went by in a blur for Charlie. Between her and Dolly, and lots of fun and laughter, they skillfully applied the lightest of makeup on Francine and Priscilla, bringing out the warmth of their eyes and the who-would-have-ever guessed full lips and high cheekbones. Next, the trio had worked their magic on Charlie, making her hardly recognizable as the woman staring back at her when she finally slipped into her white satin wedding dress.
“Quit crying,” Charlie chided. “You’ll make me cry.”
It didn’t help. Dolly burst into tears. “Oh, you are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. If only your momma and daddy could see you now.”
Charlie bit her lip and blinked back the sting of tears at the mention of her parents. “He’d probably be swiping his forehead with his handkerchief right now as he tallied up the expenses for the wedding,” she said with a well of fondness and a hint of a giggle in her voice.
The others chuckled.
“You ain’t kidding, honey. Your daddy was an angel but the last few years he was alive, when it came to money, he’d count every penny.” Dolly sniffed and then urged them to grab their bouquets.
Less than ten minutes later, Charlie made her way down the grand staircase and through the large, elegant home. “I have to go,” she whispered to the three women assisting her down the garden stairs. She couldn’t get a glimpse of Alex yet; he was at the altar farther in the garden, obscured by the lightly winding trail.
“No you don’t. It’s just nerves,” Dolly chimed back.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Hah! I’m nervous for you. I could go, too, but we don’t have the time.”
“We’ll go for you,” Francine said, elbowing Priscilla. “Isn’t that right?”
“How do women wear these things?” Priscilla asked, stumbling slightly.
“High heels, honey?” Dolly asked.
“No, thongs!” she said rather loudly.
There was a chorus of laughter from the nearby attendees.
“Oh, drat, I guess they heard me.”
Before Charlie could respond, her stepmother appeared. “Stepmother.” Her voice caught in the back of her throat. Instead of her usual black garb the barracuda had worn a dove gray gown. Charlie steeled herself as the woman’s sharp eyes took in every detail.
“Hmmph!” she exclaimed at the sight of her two daughters. “We will have our talk after the ceremony. It wouldn’t be right to spoil this occasion, now would it?”
The two sighs flew by Charlie as her sisters’ tension eased.
“Now, Charlotte,” her stepmother began. But she stopped herself and cleared her throat.
Charlie looked closer, getting a rare glimpse into the woman’s dark eyes. She swore she saw moisture gathering there.
“You’re a beautiful bride. Your father would be so very proud of you today, Charlotte.” And with that, she nodded slightly and turned to be escorted down the small lane.
Shock rushed through Charlie. She couldn’t ever recall her stepmother delivering a compliment without the backlash of a snide remark. And, to top it all off, she’d known exactly what to say about her father.
“Well, I’ll be.” Dolly whistled. “You think she’s getting soft in her old age?”
A few minutes later, still feeling the recent hugs and kisses of Dolly and her sisters, Charlie made her way down the aisle. The wedding march played softly in the background as she rounded the bend. In the back of her mind, she recognized the ooh’s and ahh’s of the people she passed by; however, she held her breath until the moment she spotted Alex.
Chapter 10
Charlie missed a step at the sight of him. Tall, dark-haired and handsome, he waited for her. His smile warmed her heart. His gaze captured hers. Her breath stilled. The tug of awareness pulsed through her. He wanted her. And she wanted him.
The stunning realization made her gasp. She wanted t
o marry him. Not for King’s Department Store. For herself.
Coming to his side, she felt the tinge of warmth on her cheeks. Almost shy now, she said, “Hi.” It came out in a breathy voice.
“Hi, yourself, beautiful.” His mouth curved into a smile.
In a matter of minutes, she’d finally get to feel those lips on hers. Disconcerted, she said the first thing that popped into her head. “Do you come here often?”
His lips twitched. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
Covering her mouth with a hand, she giggled. “Yes, I guess you do. After all, it’s your grandparents’ garden.”
He chuckled along with her.
“Of course, you skinned your knees here as a boy, caught more than your share of frogs, and dug a few holes here and there.”
“Ah, I see you’ve been talking to my grandmother. All that and I made a pest of myself,” he added wistfully.
***
Alex sobered as he took in every inch of her. He liked it when she wore her hair back and soft tendrils framed her beautiful face. Her bare shoulders revealed silky smooth skin he longed to touch. The dress, white and satin, molded to her exquisite curves and flared out near her ankles. Simple. Classic. Elegant. Just like Charlie.
A flash of color peeked out from under her hem, catching his attention. He looked closer. “The red shoes, Charlie?”
She giggled. “The one and the same pair. What is it with you and the shoes anyway?”
Smiling widely, he recalled the first time he’d met her. She crashed into him holding the strappy heels. He held her to him briefly, but a moment was all it had taken to want more of her. More warmth flooded him at the memory.
The minister interrupted his thoughts. “Are we ready to begin?”
“Yes,” Charlotte said.
“No,” Alex broke in.
“What?”
Gasps echoed all around him.
“Alex, my boy—”
“Just a minute, Gramps.”
He turned to her and witnessed the crestfallen look on her face. She frowned. “But, I thought—”
“Wait. Before we do, I have to tell you something.”
“Is this why you tried to see me earlier?” Worry gathered in her eyes.
“Yes.”
She lowered her voice. “Don’t you want to marry me?”
“Yes, but I have a confession to make.”
More gasps, and louder this time, rang out.
He turned to the crowd, saying, “Not that!”
A few chuckles broke the tension.
“Alex, you’re making me nervous. What is it?”
He swiped a hand over his brow. “It’s the cards.”
“Cards? Did he say cards?” Gramps nearly shouted.
“Yes, Gramps, I did.” He pressed a hand over his eyes. Finally, he gave a sigh, dropped his hand, and then looked into her…laughing eyes? “Are you—?”
She nodded, beginning to giggle.
“The cards. All the same suit. All aces. You knew?” Wonder rushed through him, and then dawning struck.
“Blame Dolly,” she choked out between fits of laughter.
He twisted around to look at the older woman fishing out a new deck of cards from her purse. “Works every time, Mr. R. Like a charm.” She chuckled. “Hey, get it? Prince Charming, works like a charm.”
Suddenly the garden rang with the sweet sound of hearty laughter.
“Remember, Alex, never bet against a sure thing,” Charlie reminded him. “Not in ice cream—”
“Or cards. Or you.” Alex stepped closer to Charlie, cupping her face in the palms of his hands. “Sweet Charlie, you knew all along.”
“Not really. I figured it out along the way.”
“If you didn’t agree to marry me because of the bet, then why did you agree to marry me?”
“Turquoise,” she whispered.
All because of my favorite color?
She stood on tip-toes and, ever so gently, brushed her lips against his. He sucked in a breath at the tender touch and the sweet taste of her.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to wait until you say your I dos first?” someone from the crowd called out.
Charlie broke the whisper-soft kiss, asking him, “Will you marry me, Alex?”
***
The kiss. He’d never forget that kiss for as long as he lived.
Now, sitting on the floor in his study, he looked over at Charlie. He stared at her mouth as she ate a slice of pepperoni pizza. He dropped his gaze to the creamy satin nightwear and oh-so delicate matching lace-edged robe. Something tightened in his middle. He glanced away. “So what do we do now?” he muttered under his breath.
“It’s our wedding night. What do you think people do?”
Alex turned sharply, holding his breath. He knew what he’d like to do.
“Get to know each other, of course.”
He sighed. “Of course.”
She giggled. He smiled.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, Alex, but I’m not that kind of girl.”
He shook his head and suppressed a wider smile. “I never thought you were.” He stopped to gather his thoughts. Leaning back against a nearby chair, he stretched out his jean clad legs, crossing them at the ankle and laced his fingers behind his head. “So, tell me about yourself, Mrs. Royale.”
Charlie sucked in a breath and then tried to swallow a few times. She gingerly placed the unfinished slice of pizza back in the box.
Eyeing her, he said, “That’s right, you are Charlotte Royale, now.”
“Charlotte King Royale,” she corrected in a strained voice. She blinked. Clearing her throat, she said, “I’ll always be a King, Alex.”
He noticed moisture gather in her eyes. His heart tugged. He lowered his arm, and then dragged a hand over his eyes. “I know. No one can ever take that away from you or where you came from.” He trailed off, wondering what in the world he was doing, trying to rob her of her late father’s business.
Her light, brief touch on his forearm had him jerking back to the moment. “Thank you,” she barely whispered, making him almost wish he’d told her about King’s Department Store. Almost.
If a person was capable of mentally kicking himself, he’d just done it.
“You first,” she said.
“Huh? Did I miss something?” The way she jumped from one subject to another astounded him at times.
“Tell me about yourself, silly.”
Tipping his hand, he said, “I know I’m not that interesting, so ladies first.”
She wagged a finger at him. “Oh, so that’s how you are.”
Warmth spread along his cheeks. “Duly chastised.”
Before he had a chance to do anything, she’d leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. By the time he’d realized what she’d done, she was reseated. He chuckled. “You, my dear, are very quick.”
“Can’t keep up?”
The challenge in her tone brought heat to his body. “Loaded question,” he muttered.
“For shame, Alex.”
At that he threw back his head and laughed.
“All right, if you must know, I love pepperoni pizza.”
He moved so now his arm rested on his bent knee as he faced her. “Oh, really.” He nodded as she scooped up the piece she’d recently discarded. “I’d never have guessed. Champagne? Caviar? Strawberries and whipped cream? Having an intimate wedding dinner with flowers and candlelight? Nah. She wants to eat delivered pizza while sitting on the floor.”
She giggled, taking another bite. Her soft moans of appreciation shot through him. Once she’d chewed and swallowed, she pointed out, “You forgot the cozy fire in the fireplace.”
Alex grinned. “That makes all the difference.”
Looking at him sheepishly, she confessed, “I’m not terribly romantic.”
“No, I can’t say that about you, especially after your reaction to my proposal.”
She reached over and put a hand over his mouth. �
�Quit!”
He grabbed her hand, nibbling on her fingers. “Yummy, pizza.”
Tugging her hand away, she snatched up a napkin. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?”
Glee shot through him. “No. I’m going to enjoy retelling that story over and over again to our kids and their kids.” He noted the way her eyes darkened.
“Kids?”
This time he was the one who swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“How many?”
“As many as you want.” He heard the husky timber in his own voice as he thought about making love to her. “At least one,” he added.
“I…” She stopped. Slowly, she put aside the half eaten slice. Wiping her mouth and hands, she refused to look directly at him. “I have a confession to make.”
Something hit him in the gut. “Confession? Now?” Please don’t let her say it was a mistake. Please don’t let her say she doesn’t want kids.
She looked at him under her lashes and the knot of desire twisted in him.
“I never imagined that I would ever be a wife, never mind a mother.” She held up a hand. “Wait, let me explain. Since my father died, King’s Department Store is all I’ve ever dreamt about. Making it a success has driven me for years. For all intents and purposes, I’m a workaholic.” She shrugged her shoulders. “This is all new to me, Alex.”
He slowly released his pent-up breath. “Me, too. I mean I’ve worked hard all this time. Getting married was the last thing I ever thought about.”
“Until your grandparents became ill.”
“Yes.”
“But you waited.”
“For the right one.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Charlie, for you.”
He heard her swift intake of breath. “What’s so special about me?”
For the first time he could recall, he spoke without thinking. “The question is more like, what isn’t special about you?”
***
In awe, Charlotte King Royale watched her husband. He had a way about him that drew her to him.
He’d finally opened up more than an hour ago. But it had been his question about what wasn’t special about her that had allowed her to see beyond the image of the man she’d just married. She’d pictured him as stiff, proper, and business-like, but he’d let down that guard and hinted at more than just a mere physical attraction to her. She hadn’t been the lesser of all evils when it came to choosing a wife.
If The Shoe Fits Page 6