First Love - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 04]

by Julie Kenner

  "You want me to help you do what?" Bart's expression matched the incredulity in his voice.

  "Steal Marv's tux," Julia whispered. She tugged at his arm. "Come on."

  "Why?" he asked, but he came. She put a finger over her lips as they eased past Marv and Myrna's room toward the rear exit that opened from the interior hall onto the parking lot.

  "Because it's blue," she said, as if that made perfect sense. "And because I bought Armani."

  He nodded slowly. "And I'm helping because"

  "Because we're friends, right? And I'm just a little tipsy. They might catch me."

  "You are a little tipsy." He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. It was an intimate position, but Julia didn't feel even a tingle. These days, all her tingles were for Roman. She re-called the little tiff they'd had after Roman had found Bart holding the boxers, and she fervently hoped that Roman really did understand that he was the only man for her.

  "Why don't you wait until the tipsy wears off?" Bart asked.

  She shook her head. "I thought you'd help me, but if you don't want to"

  "Fine. Fine. I'll help."

  He didn't look happy, but she didn't care. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

  "So what's the plan?" he asked.

  "They're always asleep by nine. So we use the master key to go in, one of us holds the door open so it doesn't click, the other gets the tux, then we get the hell out of Dodge."

  "The Armani?"

  "Being delivered tomorrow. It'll be so fortui fortu great , don't you think?"

  He didn't look nearly as thrilled as she was, but that was okay. She needed help, he was there, and that was enough.

  She took a step forward, stumbled, and decided that maybe that last mimosa had been one too many.

  "Jules?"

  She waved a hand, steadying herself. "I'm fine. But, um" She reached down and slipped off her Jimmy Choos. This operation called for bare feet.

  "Ready?"

  "As I'll ever be."

  He followed as she crept to Marv and Myrna's door. She used her master key to slip inside, then held the door open about an inch, signaling for him to take it from her. Across the room, Marv and Myrna snoozed in bed, back to back, Marv's snoring so loud that Julia wondered how her mom had managed not to go deaf.

  With a quick nod to Bart, she headed across the room to the closet. She rummaged around, found the tux, and pulled it free. She kept it on the hanger and draped it over her arm, treating it better than a blue velvet tux had a right to be treated.

  She backed out of the closet and was just about to tiptoe back toward Bart when Marv sputtered and snorted and sat bolt upright.

  Shit!

  She glanced around, realized the only hiding place was the closet, and closed the door.

  Through the slits in the louvered door, she saw Marv scratch himself, then yawn, then stand up. And thenbecause, really, it couldn't get any worsehe headed for the bathroom, which, of course, was located right by the door. She held her breath, waiting for his scream of outrage when he saw Bart standing there. But no scream came, and she exhaled. Bart must have slipped out before Marv saw him.

  All she had to do was wait her father out.

  "Myrna!!" His voice echoed through the small room. Her mother made a small noise in response, and Julia stiffened in fear. "Damn it, Myrna, that rash is back. It's these fuckin' pajamas in this fuckin' heat.

  Bring me my red ones, will you? They're in my suitcase in the closet. I gotta change before I spend the whole night scratching my ass."

  Julia froze. The closet ? He wanted Myrna to open the closet? She was doomed.

  Myrna, however, hadn't stirred. And if Julia knew her mom, it would take a nuclear explosionor at least three more tries from Marvbefore she did.

  She just might have time to sneak out

  Slowly, she opened the closet door, then stepped out, still clutching the tux. The front door was all the way across the room, but the window to her right was open. Why it was open in this humidity, she didn't know, but she wasn't going to ask. It was an exit and it was close.

  And when Marv's second bellow caused Myrna to stir, Julia knew she had no choice. She tiptoed to the window, shoved up the sash, then dove through the opening. She landed in a freshly watered bed of flowers, and too late remembered that she'd made the decision to use real manure for fertilizer. Cheaper, she'd thought, and also better for the environment.

  What she hadn't factored in was the smell.

  She bit back a curse, afraid her voice would filter up through the window. She put a hand down, trying to push herself up out of the garden, and only managed to slip again.

  So much for her tentative hold on sobriety.

  "Julia?" Bart's whisper drifted over the bushes and flowers toward her.

  "Over here," she whispered back.

  He came over, took one look at her, and burst out laughing.

  "Shhh!" She pointed to the open window.

  He nodded, stepped over her and tugged it shut. "Now why don't I help you up?" he said, extending a hand.

  She took it gratefully, but misjudged the slickness of the ground. As soon as he'd pulled her almost all the way up, she lost her footing and tumbled backward, bringing Bart with her. He fell forward, straddling her in the mud, Marv's blue tuxedo all that separated them.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting anything" Roman's voice cut through the night, his amusement sharp-edged.

  Julia squealed and rolled to the side, mucking herself up even more. Bart just sat there in his jeans, a stupid grin on his face.

  "Roman! You scared me!"

  "I told you this was a bad idea," Bart said.

  "No you didn't. You"

  "What idea was that exactly?" Roman asked.

  Julia and Bart exchanged a guilty look.

  "All right," Roman said, his face hardening. "Let's try this again. What are you doing lying down in a garden with him ?"

  "Watch it, buddy," Bart said, pushing himself to his feet. "Julia asked me to help her because she couldn't ask you. I'm not sure what that means, but I think you should think about it."

  "Bart!" Julia looked from one to the other, absolutely certain that she should have gone with her first instinct and not involved her ex. "Look," she said to Roman. "It's not what it looks like." She frowned, her brow furrowed. She was crawling through the bushes, her ex-boyfriend behind her, with a tacky blue tux rolled up and tucked under her arm. "What does it look like?" Surely not some sort of weird sexual liaison.

  "Honestly," Roman said wearily, "I have no idea." He scowled, then reached down to help her up. When she was on her feet, he offered a hand to Bart, too. Bart hesitated, Roman shoved his hand farther into the bushes, and Bart finally latched on.

  "Thanks," he said, brushing at the knees of his pants. For a moment, the two men just eyed each other; then Julia saw something soften in Bart's eyes. "Look, man," he said. "I promise you there's nothing weird going on here." He made a face. "No, I take that back. I'm helping your fiancee steal her father's tux. That qualifies as weird. But there's nothing weird going on between me and Julia."

  "I believe you," Roman said.

  "You do?" Bart asked.

  "You do?" Julia asked at the same time.

  "Yeah," he said. And the fact was, he really did believe them. Despite finding an ex-boyfriend on top of his apparently drunk bride-to-be, he really did believe them. Hell, how could he not? "I love you, Julia. I love you and I trust you."

  It was, he realized, exactly the right thing to say. The suspicious protective-wolf look in Bart's eyes had faded. And Julia's own expression was one he'd seen on repeated occasions in his own mirror: love.

  She moved into his arms, and he pulled her into a hug, marred only by the rolled-up ball of clothes between them.

  "Now tell me why, exactly, were you stealing your father's tux?"

  "I think that's my cue to leave," Bart said. "Julia, it's been fun. We'll have
to do this again sometime." And with that, he turned and moved along the building toward the Orange Street entrance.

  "Julia?"

  "Let's go inside," she said. "I'd rather not be out here when Pop and Myrna decide to open that window back up. If they catch us, I'll be stuck."

  "Stuck?"

  "With Pop wearing that god-awful thing at our wedding."

  "Ah." Roman thought he understood. "Only high fashion at the Sonntag-Spinelli wedding festivities?"

  "Um, right."

  "You know that I don't care that he rides around in a pink limo, don't you? And I don't care about the blue velvet tux, either."

  "Really?"

  "Promise."

  She sighed. "You know, I believe you." She gave him the rundown of what had happened at the book club.

  "But that's great," he said. "The town isn't going to care if your father's not exactly GQ ."

  " I care," she said. "And I shouldn't."

  "Why not?" He hooked a finger under her chin and tenderly lifted her face. "It's your wedding. Shouldn't it be exactly as you want it?"

  She scowled a bit. "It's our wedding, and it already has so many problems that I shouldn't worry about one more."

  "Well, I came here to tell you about one less."

  "Really?" She couldn't imagine what, but his grin was broad enough that she knew it was big. "What?"

  "Dad's agreed to have the ceremony and reception on the property. We don't have to find a new place, and we don't have to figure out a way to steer all the guests toward a new place."

  "But but that's wonderful! Why? How?"

  "I guess he talked to your dad."

  That she wasn't expecting. "He what? They spoke? In person? Without blood?"

  "Apparently. According to my father, your pop was pretty eloquent. Wanting to step up to the plate for his little girl. That kind of thing."

  "Oh, wow." Tears welled in her eyes and she looked guiltily at the tux balled up in her hand. "Roman" She didn't know what to say, and so she decided to just lose herself in his touch.

  He held tight for a minute, and she breathed in the scent of him, which was a lot better than the scent of her , what with the mulch and all. Roman didn't seem to mind the smell, though. He tugged her closer, his hands moving to cup her breasts. Her nipples peaked, and she felt a dampness in her crotch. She wiggled a bit, rubbing against him, wanting to lose herself to this man.

  But she couldn't. Not yet. There was something she had to do first.

  Reluctantly, she pulled away. "Hold that thought."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I need to take the tux back."

  "But you just went to so much trouble to steal it."

  She nodded, exhaling as she searched her soul for courage. "I know. But I was thinking about something you said. Remember? That night we walked through the vines? I asked you why you came back to Texas. And you talked about how sometimes you have to make sacrifices for family."

  She unrolled the tux and smoothed it out. The velvet was a little crushed and it smelled a bit like fertilizer, but surely that would fade by the wedding. "He's so damn proud of this thing, and all I could think about was how much it would embarrass me. But he's my dad and I love him and I shouldn't be embarrassed."

  She drew in another breath. "So, my darling. That's my sacrifice. Not forcing my taste in clothes on my family. Even if I am the only one in the whole gene pool with any concept of style."

  "I'm proud of you," he said. "And your father will be proud as a peacock in that tux."

  "You mean he'll look like a peacock."

  "Exactly."

  She scowled. "Don't laugh, Roman. I need to sneak this back into his room. Now. Before he wakes up. And you, oh husband-to-be, get to help me."

  The night with Roman was positively glorious. And the next morning, Julia was certain she had a glow on her skin equal to that of any of the diamonds in the Jeep Collins jewelry store window. She paused a bit, actually, just to scope them out before she and Roman went inside to get their rings.

  "Roman! Julia!" Tony, one of the men who worked in the store, came over as they entered, his hand outstretched. He shook Roman's hand, then led them both to a small desk. "Everything is ready. Just wait right here." They took a seat as he hurried off, returning quickly with two ring boxes that he set on the table in front of them. "Titanium, just as you'd asked, engraved with each other's names and the word 'forever.'"

  Julia nodded, held her breath and opened the box. They'd decided on titanium for what it symbolized strength and endurance. Absolutely one of the hardest metals out there. Nothing was going to happen to that ring, just as nothing was going to happen to their relationship. From a practical point of view, the metal was a color similar to silver or platinum. The ring would look fabulous on her finger next to Grandmother Olga's heirloom ring.

  "Oh, Roman. If's beautiful." And, indeed, it was. The ring gleamed in the store's lighting, its polished surface looking even more fabulous than she'd imagined.

  "As beautiful as you are," he said.

  She laughed and leaned over to nudge him with her elbow. "Flatterer."

  "I speak only the truth." He slipped her ring out of the box and held it out for her. "Try it on."

  She nodded, but took the ring from him. "You get to put it on me at the altar. Until then" She slipped the ring on her own finger as he did the same with his. They both extended their hands to Tony, who nodded, clearly pleased.

  "Perfect fit," he said.

  Roman and Julia grinned at each other, then slipped the rings off and handed them back to the jeweler. She pushed her chair back. "Wow. I can't believe it's so late. I hate to try on and run, but I have to meet Breckin."

  Roman took her hand as she stood. "Just a little longer. I've got a surprise for you."

  "Yeah?" Her mind ticked off the possibilities. A bracelet, maybe. Something she could wear all the time. Or maybe a diamond drop necklace. How classy would that be? "Well, in that case I think I can keep Breckin waiting."

  She settled back and waited for Tony to retrieve another jewelry box from the back. She was expecting long and thin, so when he set what was clearly a ring box in front of her, she looked at him in surprise, then turned to Roman, still just as confused.

  "What's this?"

  "Open it and find out."

  Her stomach did a little flip, and she rubbed

  Grandmother Olga's platinum and glass engagement ring protectively. Surely he wouldn't Not after she told him a hundred million times how much this ring meant to her. Not when she knew how tight his cash was

  "Go on," he urged.

  She nodded, decided that she had no choice, and opened the box, revealing one of the most stunning engagement rings she had ever seen. A perfectly cut stone flashed brilliantly in the store's lighting, centered perfectly over the platinum setting. Around it, a dozen smaller diamonds winked, calling attention to the center stone without overpowering it.

  Julia realized her hand was at her mouth. The ring was exquisite and, based on what she knew about jewelrywhich was a lotshe knew that this ring had cost a pretty penny.

  She didn't want it. She didn't want it at all.

  "Roman, this is I don't know what to say."

  He took her hand, slipped off the heirloom ring. "I wanted to get this for you. A real diamond. As beautiful as you are."

  She tugged her hand back. "But I love that ring!"

  "Sweetheart, it's glass. I didn't know. I would never have given it to you if I'd known."

  "But but"

  "Julia." She met his serious eyes. "This is important to me. To be able to give you this. It means something to me. Please. Let me do this."

  She wanted to protest, wanted to reach out and snatch the heirloom back and hold it to her chest.

  But she knew Roman, and she knew what that dark, haunted look in his eyes meant. He wanted to buy this for her, and she couldn't take that away from him, even if the thought of losing the heirloom made her want to cry.
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  She couldn't speak, so she just nodded. And he slipped the new ring on her finger.

  "I love you," he said.

  The smile that touched her lips was genuine. "I love you, too."

  Across the desk, Tony oohed and aahed, going on and on about how exquisite the ring looked. Julia just blushed and fought the urge to bolt.

  It wasn't until they were outside that she finally relaxed. They were walking again, heading toward the Inn so she could go meet Breckin. "Roman, I"

  "Don't say anything, babe. Don't say anything except that you love the ring."

  "I do. It's stunning. But you can't afford it. And you don't have to afford it. I loved Olga's ring, too. You proposed with that ring. It belongs on my finger."

  "The best belongs on your finger. And I want to give you the best."

  She gnawed on her lower lip, not sure what to say next. She'd told him a zillion times that she loved Olga's ring, that she didn't care that the stone was fake, and that she wanted to keep the ring. He hadn't heard her, obviously. And now she was certain she knew whymoney. She hugged herself, suddenly chilled despite the already oppressive Texas heat.

  "Roman, if this is about the money If it's about my money well, I mean" She drew in a breath, let it out again. "I just mean that if it makes you uncomfortable that I have some money, then you can just forget what I suggested about the B and B and the wine. It was just an idea. We don't have to use my money for"

  "I've already talked with Barrington."

  She stopped. "What?"

  He met her eyes, his own unreadable. "I called him last night. I think I can work it out with him. Come up with a business plan that gives him a label for his hotels and pumps enough money into the winery to make it worth my while."

  "But but I thought you didn't want to be the invisible source behind a label."

  "I did a cost benefit analysis," he said. "This is the best solution." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "It was sweet of you to offer, but this is how I want to handle it."

  "Oh." She tugged her hand back, shoved it into the pocket of her Seven jeans. "Okay." She didn't know what else to say. A thousand wordsa thousand recriminationsraced through her head. She wanted to cry, to shout out, to scream in frustration and pound her fists against him.