by Mora Early
“Let’s see what we’ve got here!” Emma shoved her hand into the bag, relieved to feel the hard contours of a bottle and not another piece of lingerie. She plucked it out proudly and then gave a squeal before shoving it back in the bag. “I thought you were supposed to get... like... Tupperware and dishes at a wedding shower? This is not Tupperware!”
Suzanne snorted. “Honey, you’re marrying Josh Owens... I’m pretty sure he’s already got a blender. Now what was...” Suzanne fished the bottle back out and cackled as she read the swirled writing on the front. “Lick ’Em Lube? Oh, that’s hilarious. Who’s this from?”
“Ahhh....” Eugenie’s grin was wide as she held up a finger. Emma gasped.
“Eugenie?”
The older woman bit her lip, holding back laughter. “Well, some of the girls put the gift bag together as sort of a thank you to you and Josh for all you’ve done for the foundation. I just oversaw the process.”
“A banana flavored banana hammock!” Suzanne hooted as she dug further into the bag. “That is genius.”
Emma tried to keep the smile off her face, but her lips trembled with the effort. “You’re all a bunch of perverts! Didn’t anyone get me something that doesn’t go on someone’s body? An appliance or something?”
“Mine requires batteries! Does that count?” Marla had edged her way to the cake and stolen a bite of frosting.
“Okay, that’s it. I’ll open the rest of these later. When I’m not in front of my boss and all my co-workers.”
“And your future mother-in-law!” Kara called, grinning.
“Right, did someone mention cake?”
***
Emma’s fingers trembled as she brushed them over the seed pearl appliqué. She stretched both arms straight out in front of her and flexed her hands, watching the movement of her fingers intently. Open. Closed. Open. Closed again. When she lowered her arms, her hands no longer shook.
She took advantage of her slightly calmed nerves to raise her eyes back to the mirror.
This was it. Her eyes skimmed over her form in the mirror and zeroed in on the wooden door in the back of the wide stone room.
Out that door and down a short hallway stood the main cathedral of the church. Kara and Cam would be sitting on Josh’s side, along with Maxine Chartrand and her girlfriend Steph, Arnold Purefoy, Martin Kellar and countless other people Emma didn’t know. Other friends and acquaintances of Josh’s. Witnesses to their deception.
On her side would be Clarice, Dag, Tanya, Shinae... in fact, most of the staff of Picture Perfect was here today. Which was a good thing, or else her side of the church would have been depressingly empty. They’d kept it to under a hundred guests and the gleaming wooden pews seemed packed with people. She glanced outside earlier before putting on her dress.
“Hey, they’re just about – Holy moly, Ems!” Todd skidded to a halt in the doorway, his eyes going wide as he took in the full effect of her ensemble.
She glanced over her shoulder at him, nervously touching fingers to her hair. It was coiled into soft, elaborate curls and piled loosely on her head in a style that looked effortless, but had taken the hairdresser over an hour, not to mention various alchemical products, and what felt like 300 bobby pins.
Strategically placed jewels glittered in her hair. Actual jewels. Not cubic zirconia coils like the ones girls wore to prom at her high school. Her hair sparkled with several thousand dollars’ worth of gems. The thought made her stomach whirl, but the finished effect was gorgeous, Emma had to admit. The discrete diamond bobs in her ears were hardly noticeable in comparison.
With the long veil pinned into the hairdo and drifting down her back, the slender ivory heels (also covered in sparkling crystals), and the bouquet of bright pink roses, she looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine advertising fairytale weddings.
“I’m ready.” Her voice sounded light and breathy, but it didn’t waver. She knew Todd kept waiting for her to back out; that he had been waiting for that ever since he made his ridiculous pronouncement on the patio, but it wasn’t going to happen.
In fact, in the last few days, pretending to be the future Mrs. Josh Owens had actually become easier, not harder. She’d left Josh’s patio that day with a renewed resolve, determined to prove to her brother, to Josh, to William Ransler, that she was the master of her own destiny.
She was going to play house with Josh so well that when he got married for real (and that thought didn’t bother her at all) it would be a letdown of epic proportions. William Ransler would be so convinced of the validity of their relationship that he’d beg Josh, and her, for forgiveness. Then in four months, she was going to walk away free and clear without a backward glance. And Todd could just put that in his pipe and smoke it.
Once she’d decided that, and stuffed any lingering feelings of guilt or uncertainty into boxes of their own, stacked them away in the back of her mind with any other ridiculous notions, it was easy. She did what she always did when she was pretending to be someone else. She didn’t act like Josh’s bride-to-be. She just... was.
It was only when she started to think of it as a sham that she grew wobbly. Today, she was a woman on her wedding day. The tangle of nerves in her belly was normal. Emma turned and smiled at her brother, lifting one hand to smooth the lapel of his tux. The tiny fuchsia rosebud in was a bright splash of color against the stark black fabric.
“Let’s go, T-rex. It’s time for you to give me away.” She slid her fingers around his elbow. Todd reached up and drew the veil down over her face, his green eyes glinting.
“Wedded or not, you’re still my big sis, you know.”
Suzanne poked her head into the room, her honey brown hair loose around her shoulders. The bright Hollywood cerise of the satin gown, which had thick straps, a wide V-neck and a baby doll hem that ended just above the knee, suited the curvy woman’s coloring perfectly. “We’re ready to start.” She flashed a wink at Emma. “You’re going to blow them away.”
Emma took a deep breath, squeezed Todd’s arm, and nodded. “Here we go.”
As they entered the hallway, Emma caught sight of Maisie. The tall woman had opted for a slightly shorter, slimmer version of the dress Suzanne wore. It showed off her long legs to their advantage. Emma had worried that the brilliant reddish-pink shade would clash with Maisie’s bright orange-red hair, but the effect was actually gorgeous. She looked like some exotic flower.
Maisie winked and raised the small bouquet of Sahara Cream roses in a small wave. Emma’s lips, expertly tinted with just a touch of fuchsia gloss by a makeup woman who’d won 3 Oscars, curved upward in an answering smile. Todd inclined his head, murmuring from the corner of his mouth.
“Any time you change your mind, we can go. Just say the word and we’ll head to Vegas and take in a show instead.”
Her fingers tightened around her bouquet. “No.”
“That’s what I thought you were going to say. Man, you’re stubborn.”
“Now you know how I’ve felt for the last... oh, twenty or so years.” She straightened her shoulders as the music in the cathedral swelled. Emma watched Suzanne turn the corner, and knew she’d be gliding down the long aisle to the altar, where William, Ben, and Josh would be.
Her heart did a quick cha-cha in her chest. She hadn’t seen Josh since yesterday morning. She’d had to go to his house to check on the arrival of the tent for the reception and show the staff where it needed to be set up. Old habits die hard, and even though Clarice was officially planning this wedding, Emma had a hard time giving up control.
So, she’d used the excuse that she was going over to see Josh, and brought him a mocha while he went over the latest round of contract negotiations with William and their lawyers. His blue-green eyes had flown to hers when he took a sip and realized the coffee was mixed with cocoa. Though his face had been stern as he’d perused papers full of legalese, he’d mouthed a brief ‘thank you’.
She’d seen Ransler’s eyes on them, st
ill guarded, but she ignored him, winking at Josh before leaving the boys to their business. He’d texted her briefly last night with a question about the placement of some of the tables on the back lawn, but that was it. And now here came the big moment.
Maisie rounded the corner and headed into the church next, chin lifted, a pleased smile on her face. Emma could hear the soft, rapid click-click-click of shutters as the photographers snapped off God knew how many pictures. Aside from the photogs Clarice had hired, People had sent one of their own.
“My turn now, right?” hissed Annabelle in a loud whisper. Max Chartrand’s girlfriend Steph chuckled at her precocious offspring and nudged her forward.
“Yes, dear,” she replied indulgently. “Go on.”
Emma couldn’t help but chuckle at the little girl’s enthusiasm. She was every bit as wonderful as Josh had described her. She heard the happy scuffing of Annabelle’s shoes on the smooth stone floor as she scattered the rose petals along the aisle.
And then a hush fell over the church, so heavy Emma felt it press the breath from her lungs. A moment later, the deeply resonate notes of a cello echoed through the stone edifice. The instantly recognizable ‘dum-dum-da-dum’ echoed in Emma’s fluttering heart.
Todd was waiting for her to move. Or run. Emma knew whichever she did, he’d be right at her side. She smiled at her little brother through the gauzy veil, feeling closer to him than she had in a long time.
Emma took a deep breath, and stepped around the corner.
Chapter 7 ~ Definitely Going to Hell
As he stood near the altar, Josh felt an inexplicable bubble of... something, churning underneath his ribcage. He’d been feeling it there for the last few days. At first, he’d thought it was anxiety. Certainly the almost electrical charge of his blood as it coursed through his veins was because he was on the verge of pulling off this crazy scheme.
The project that meant so much to him, the one that he’d been working tirelessly on for two years, was about to become a reality. He was so close to having Ransler’s name on the dotted line. The actor was slippery as an eel during negotiations. Josh had begun to wonder if Ransler was going to back out after all.
So that strange whirling sensation in his chest must be caused by stress. The fact that it expanded in the few brief minutes he’d spent in Emma’s company since she’d decided to really commit to their arrangement was only because the sight of her reminded him of their arrangement, and its purpose. It just excited his anxiety.
Emma was exciting him in other ways too. If the stress didn’t get to him, the sexual frustration would. She was one hell of an actress. Her touches were brief – the press of her soft lips against the corner of his mouth when she left his house after meeting his parents, a quick caress of her fingers along his jaw while they finalized some last minute reception details with Clarice. But every time, she sent his whole body into overdrive. Hell, even that wink as she’d sashayed out of his office the other morning had him half-hard.
“You’re really doing it,” Ben whispered at his side. It wasn’t a question. Ben’s almost inaudible words were full of a grim sort of humor, and the tiniest dash of disbelief. Josh cut him a quick glare and smiled over Ben’s shoulder at William Ransler.
“I’m really doing it,” Josh whispered back. Ransler couldn’t read too much into that exchange. He was sure plenty of actual best men made similar comments to real grooms in weddings all over the world. He wondered vaguely what he’d be feeling right now if this was real.
If he was marrying Emma for real, would he be feeling this crackling tension and the overwhelming desire to say the hell with the ceremony and reception and just skip to the part where they were alone in a bedroom together?
Josh had a always thought when – if – he ever got married, it would be easy. That is would feel simple and right. Not like a mating ball of snakes had taken up residence in his lungs. He barely noticed Suzanne and Maisie in their bright pink dresses, or even Annabelle as she skipped down the aisle flinging rose petals around her like fragrant confetti.
The tension made sense, though, because he wasn’t in love with Emma. He liked her. Or he had, when he’d thought he knew her. Now, he needed her. And he was definitely attracted to her. He had eyes and a pulse, after all. But that was the extent of his feelings for the duplicitous, alluring party planner. He was just worrying about pulling this sleight off, not looking forward to the rest of his life with her.
And then the cello began its low, familiar refrain, and a hush fell over the church. Everyone turned to face the stone archway just as Todd and Emma stepped through. The entire gathered crowd drew in a long, soft breath at the sight of her.
“Wow,” Ben murmured.
Josh would have agreed, except the ball of snakes seemed to have grown, clogging his throat now. He coughed lightly, trying to swallow around the tangle of anxiety. He’d thought she looked gorgeous in the dramatic red silk dress at the masquerade ball, but that outfit had nothing on this one.
He didn’t think he’d ever used the words ‘hot’ and ‘bride’ together in a sentence, even in his head. But Emma looked hot. And lovely. It was an unsettling combination, one that both made him want to stare and take in the beauty, and to hike up the long, heavy skirt and find out what she had on underneath at the same time. If Hell was real, Josh was definitely going there for the thoughts that paraded through his mind while he stood beside the altar and waited for Emma and her brother to reach him.
Her bare arms were long and slender, her creamy skin a more honeyed hue than the ivory satin of the dress. The bodice clung to her slender frame, lifting and accentuating the firm curves of her breasts and the hourglass of her waist.
Through the sheer, gauzy fabric of the lace-edged veil, Josh caught sight of Emma’s face. It was blurred slightly by the garment, but the pink curves of her lips and the glittering green of her eyes stood out clearly. She smiled at him, her mouth soft and lush, even with the obstructed view.
Then, Emma winked. Josh’s lips twitched upward. He winked back.
For a moment he thought he heard the flutter of wings, and blinked. Had Clarice decided to do some sort of dove release? They hadn’t talked about that. The rapid flashing of light from the corner of his eye registered a beat later. Cameras. The noise was the rapid shutter click of multiple cameras all snapping pictures of Emma as she walked down the aisle.
Good. That’s definitely a sight that should be recorded for posterity.
Josh was in full agreement with his inner voice, for once.
Todd drew to a stop just below the raised platform where Josh stood, his hand squeezing Emma’s where it rested on his arm. He turned brilliant green eyes, very like Emma’s, on Josh and extended his right hand.
“Good luck, brother.” Todd’s grin was cheek-splitting and toothy.
Josh blinked at the younger man in surprise, but clasped his hand firmly and shook it. As soon as he’d released Josh’s hand, Todd slid Emma’s from the crook of his elbow and placed it in Josh’s palm. A tingle of sensation raced up Josh’s arm to his chest, like an electrical shock, when her fingertips brushed his wrist.
Todd touched his sister’s shoulder briefly and bent to whisper in her ear. Josh saw her roll her eyes, but she was smiling when she nodded. Todd stepped out of the way and slid into his place on the first pew.
As the last few achingly deep notes of the cello faded, Josh reached up and lifted the veil from Emma’s face, tucking it behind and revealing the elaborate coils of her hair. There were jewels glittering among the curls, Josh saw. They paled in comparison to the beauty of Emma’s face as she looked up at him, however.
God, Owens... could you be anymore cliché?
And, there it was. Back to thinking his inner voice needed a good quality gag. Cliché or not, the fact was that Emma looked amazing. Her eyes seemed a brighter green than normal when he met her gaze, her lips fuller when she smiled.
The priest began to speak, his voice washing over Josh with
a gentle, hypnotic cadence. The words barely registered. He spoke of love, of course, the finding of it in the most unexpected of places, when one wasn’t even looking. Apropos, Josh supposed, considering the story they were telling of how they’d met and fallen head over heels in love while Emma planned his charity masquerade.
Her hand was small and warm in his, her fingers fine-boned and long. She had very beautiful hands. It wasn’t something Josh had ever noticed about a woman before. In the normal course of things, the only time he could ever recall thinking about a woman’s hands was when he was thinking about where they were on him. Though he had to admit, this was hardly the normal course of things.
Emma’s thumb brushed over the back of his hand lightly as she squeezed his fingers. She began to speak, repeating the vows the elderly priest recited.
“I, Emma Andromeda Ness...”
Her middle name was Andromeda. That was probably in the file Ben had given him. ‘You know the things your little hounds sniffed out. That’s all,’ she’d said during their interview with Mia. Josh found himself oddly pleased that this was a piece of information she’d given him freely. Sort of.
The vows were the traditional ‘love, honor, obey’. He almost snorted when she got to that part. Emma continued, but one eyelid swept down in a quick wink, dark lashes fanning against her cheek.
Josh was almost disappointed when she finished speaking. He’d half expected Emma to throw in some little barb or joke, something to remind him that she was only here because he forced her hand. He’d actually prepared for it, had a few witticisms of his own for rebuttal. But she’d repeated the priest’s words exactly. And now it was his turn.
“I, Joshua Radcliffe Owens...”
Emma’s lips twitched when he said his middle name. Her lashes fluttered. For some reason, she found it inordinately funny, even after he’d explained the family significance of his grandmother’s maiden name.