Twisted Arrangement 3

by Mora Early

  Honestly, he’d been worried he’d screw this part up, that it would give Ransler some weird confirmation that Josh was conning him. But the words fell easily from his lips as the priest prompted him through each line.

  Bright pink, nearly the same shade as Maisie and Suzanne’s dresses, stained Emma’s cheeks as he recited the words ‘love, honor, cherish’. The sunlight pouring through the rose window haloed her in gold. She wet her lips with the point of her tongue.

  Her tiny hand cradled his, steady as she slipped a thick, white gold band over the knuckle of his third finger. It felt heavy against his skin, foreign, warm and very real for a such fake marriage.

  Josh felt heat sting his cheek as his hands shook, almost dropping the ring when Ben handed it to him. His best friend quirked a dark brow and put a steadying hand on Josh’s elbow.

  He turned back to Emma and took her left hand, stroking his thumb over her knuckles as he repeated the priest’s words. She caught her lip between her teeth. The sight of the plump curve dimpled by the sharp edge of her incisors was a kick to the gut. Josh tightened his jaw against the burning desire to damn the rest of the ceremony and just kiss her right now.

  The band he’d picked out for Emma (Clarice had insisted they choose each other’s) was a thin, delicately woven band of silver and white gold. It slipped easily down her slender finger. When he’d placed it against the base of her digit, resting beside the engagement ring, Emma folded her fingers into his.

  The old priest, sunlight gleaming off his bald pate, lifted his hands above their heads and began speaking again. All Josh could hear was Emma’s breathing. It was light and slightly uneven, a little elevated. His gaze fell to the demure neckline of the gown, where only the upper swells of her breasts were visible, framed by the heavy satin.

  “You may now kiss the bride.” The priest beamed, clasping his book. Josh took a deep breath. Emma turned into him, lifting her face, sliding her hands up his arms to cup his elbows as he drew her against him. His hands rested on the warm satin that covered the curve of her hips.

  Josh bent his head until his mouth hovered a breath away from her moist, parted lips.

  “Well?” she whispered. “Are you going to kiss the bride?” Her lashes fluttered as she met his eyes, their locked gazes intense.

  “I figured you were going to steal it before I could.”

  Her eyes sparked emerald at his challenge. He felt her lift on tiptoe just as he closed the distance between them. Her lips crashed into his with a purpose, soft and warm. Josh had to swallow a chuckle as Emma angled her head, flicking her tongue out to tease his. He responded in kind, swiping along the inner edge of her full bottom lip. Her skin was damp satin there, slick and smooth. Just like he imagined her sweet cleft would be.

  Emma gasped as if she’d heard his thought, opening wider to him, snaking her hands up around his neck, her tongue boldly sliding into his mouth.

  Beside them, the priest gave a small cough. Suzanne chuckled. There was a whistle from the direction of the pews. Josh reluctantly raised his head with a final, tiny nip to the lush curve of her lip.

  Applause erupted in the quiet church as he and Emma pulled slightly away from each other. She clung to his shoulder with one hand and grinned at the guests, the pink in her cheeks darkening. As the hoots and cheers got louder, Todd Ness issuing a piercing whistle with his fingers, Josh saw, Emma began to giggle.

  “Well, go on.” Suzanne handed Emma back her bouquet, sniffling a little and nudging her back down the aisle. “There’s cake waiting for us.”

  “Booze, cake, and presents, right?” Emma called over her shoulder.

  Suzanne nodded. “What more could a girl want?”

  Emma’s dancing gaze flicked to him and Josh’s fingers tightened where they still rested on her hip. If she wasn’t careful, she wouldn’t be walking back down that aisle. He’d pick her up and carry her off to the sacristy and to hell with the reception.

  Once again, the mellow notes of the cello echoed off the thick stone walls. Josh let Emma tug him back down the aisle toward the front door. People clapped him on the back, shook his hand, punched his shoulder, high-fived him. He responded automatically, his mind intent on the feel of Emma’s slight frame pressed to his side and the satin of the dress at her waist, warm from her skin.

  How soon, he wondered, would it be permissible for him to send everyone home so he could enjoy his ‘wedding’ night? Given how he felt right now, this reception had better only last a couple of hours.

  Emma curled against his chest as some joker tossed a handful of rice in her direction. Her breasts brushed his belly.

  Make that one hour. Tops.

  Chapter 8 ~ Something Old, Something New

  If he had to endure the endless toasts and the sappy pronouncements, at least there were upsides. They’d gotten Jean Luc, the genius who’d catered his charity ball, to do the food. Every bite was phenomenal.

  And Josh got to dance with Emma again. She may have faked her personality, her interest in him, hell, even her desire (though he didn’t think so), but she hadn’t faked her dancing skills.

  First, of course, was their ‘couple dance’, or whatever you called it. He’d left that part up to her and Clarice. As the strains of acoustic guitar enveloped them, Josh cocked his head.

  “I don’t know this song.”

  Emma ducked her chin, cheeks flaming. “Oh. Ah, it was on the list Clarice came up with. The guy was a finalist on the British version of Idol years ago. I sort of picked it because of the title. Like a joke, a play on words, you know? Because of my job.” She said all of this to the buttons on his shirt, mumbling softly.

  Josh listened as they swung around the dance floor to the ballad. When it got to the chorus, and the singer crooned ‘I didn’t plan to love you’, Josh chuckled.

  “I get it.”

  She opened her mouth, as if she was going to say something else, but then shook her head and closed it. Neither of them spoke again as they moved slowly to the music. Tension crackled between them. Not just the sexual tension that Josh had been feeling since he’d found out Emma and Butterfly were the same woman, either.

  He knew what she’d been about to say, why she’d made a point of explaining why she chose this song. Emma didn’t want him to read into the lyrics and take it as a confession of genuine feeling. It was important they both stayed clear on where they stood. This wasn’t a real marriage. There wouldn’t be any paperwork on file at the courthouse.

  Technically, he supposed, they were actually married in the eyes of the Church. But since neither of them were religious, Josh figured that didn’t count. In the eyes of the state of California and the United States government, they were two people throwing an elaborate party.

  Not that anyone else knew that. Even the priest thought they were a legitimate couple. That had been a bit sticky. They’d had to attend a meeting with him for ‘pre-marital counseling’, and the old man had demanded to see a marriage license before he’d perform the ceremony.

  Josh had been a little worried that actually applying for a license would make the thing legal, but Ben assured him that as long as they didn’t file it with the county, it would expire and no one would be any wiser. They were doing everything by the book, except for making it official. It would look good even to the nosy tabloid reporters.

  “I feel a little bad,” Emma whispered in his ear when they were back at the table. Her breath was scented with raspberry vinaigrette from the salad, tart and fruity at the same time.

  He sipped his wine. “About?”

  On the dance floor, Todd was whirling Josh’s mother around to a cover of Aerosmith’s ‘Amazing’. Emma smiled at the sight, but inclined her head toward the long table to their right. The gift table was heaped with brightly wrapped packages and envelopes.

  “People spent money on those. And we’re...” She trailed off, glancing around, but for the moment there was no one close enough to hear. Still, she didn’t complete the thought.


  “Hmm. You have a point.” He crunched a crisp leaf of lettuce, contemplating the situation. It wouldn’t have occurred to him if she hadn’t pointed it out, but she was probably thinking of her coworkers. They weren’t poor, by any means, but it did seem in poor taste to accept gifts from them under false pretenses.

  Emma was frowning at the pile of presents, and he could tell from the clouded green of her eyes that she was genuinely upset about it. “Especially after the... er... bachelorette party.” She flicked him a suddenly sharp glance, blushing. Josh’s brows rose. That was an interesting response. What had she gotten that would make her look at him that way?

  He considered asking, but his plan was to wait until tonight, and he was going to stick to it. Once the craziness of today was behind them and all that remained was the day-to-day pseudo-couple stuff, they could take the time to enjoy being faux man-and-wife. Josh was looking forward to it.

  “We can hardly give them back,” he said instead. “Would it make you feel better if we donate an amount equal to the gift to a charity in the giver’s name?”

  Her fork paused halfway to her mouth, a dollop of dressing dripping onto the tablecloth. She set it hastily down, checking her dress for splashes. There weren’t any. Josh studied the creamy satin of her bodice, and what it contained, thoroughly. When she raised her eyes to his, they were round and bright.

  “You’d do that?”

  “To tell you the truth, it’ll make me feel better too.” He shrugged. She smiled, her lips slightly parted. Impulsively, Josh bent and brushed her mouth with his. She tasted of raspberries and wine and Emma... a tangy, exotic flavor he couldn’t place because he’d only ever tasted it on her tongue. He swallowed her small gasp at the brief caress.

  The music faded suddenly and they were surrounded by the tinkling sound of silverware on glasses. Josh raised his head just as Emma turned to the stage with a groan.

  Todd Ness stood before the microphone, Cheshire grin in place and a flute of champagne in one upraised hand.

  “What is he doing?” Emma hissed softly. Unfortunately, the crowd had quieted and the sound carried further than she intended. Several people at nearby tables snickered.

  “For those of you who don’t know, I’m Todd Ness... brother of the bride.” He perused the crowd slowly, pulling the mike from its stand. Emma buried her face in her hands. Josh leaned back in his chair, interested to see what Emma’s brother had up his sleeve.

  “And none of you would be here today if it wasn’t for me.”

  Josh stiffened. Emma’s head jerked up, the color draining from her cheeks. Todd glanced over the heads of the guests and gave them both a broad wink. “See, I met Josh before Emma did and I thought ‘Now, there’s a man you can really trust around your sister’.”

  That got a snicker from the crowd. Todd let the laughter settle before continuing. “Kidding aside, he made quite the impression. And the next time I saw my sister, well... I might have mentioned him a time or two. Then, before I know it, she’s heading up the team to plan his charity ball, just like that.” Todd snapped his fingers. “Coincidence?” He inclined his head.

  Josh relaxed as soon as he’d realized Todd’s game. The kid was being completely truthful; he was just spinning it to give the story different play. He made it sound as if he’d sung Josh’s praises instead of cursing his poker skills – like Emma maneuvered herself onto his team in order to be close to him, not to steal from him.

  Todd Ness would make a good PR person. He’d have to remember that.

  Emma white-knuckled her fork. He pried the utensil loose and squeezed her hand. She flashed him a quick smile, but her gaze shot daggers at her brother.

  “Long story slightly shorter,” Todd said with a wink, “here we all are now, at the happy ending.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at some of the ladies from Picture Perfect, who tittered in response. “But what you don’t know about Emma is that when we were kids –”

  A loud, slow clap cut Todd’s words off cleanly. The young man’s sandy brown brows furrowed as he scanned the crowd for the heckler.

  Josh heard a muttered expletive to his left, but ignored it. His eyes were all for the woman in black who stood in the middle of the empty dance floor. He hadn’t seen her melt out of the surrounding crowd, but she was hard to miss now in her figure-hugging black silk dress with her thick blonde hair tumbled in artful waves around her face. People had called her ‘deliciously angelic’ when they’d named her Sexiest Woman Alive.

  Lolly Tate’s mouth was a vicious curve of bright red as she smiled at the crowd. Her words dripped like venom from her crimson lips. “I hate to interrupt such a touching toast but I have a few words for the bride and groom myself and they just can’t wait.”

  ***

  Emma pressed her lips together to keep from gaping at the starlet. Of course, she’d seen Lolly Tate before. Anyone who’d been to the movies in the last 5 years had gotten to know the A-list actress as the brainy and seductive archeologist/adventurer Tanya Cross in the Digger series. Lolly’s face had graced several multi-million dollar beauty campaigns as well. She was Hollywood’s darling, despite her very public struggle with drugs.

  She was even more gorgeous in person. Even in her own ridiculously expensive satin wedding gown with her hair and makeup done by Oscar winners, and what was probably thousands of dollars in jewels glittering in her hair, Emma felt dull in comparison with the blonde’s stunning beauty. Lolly Tate was tall, with long, tan legs and high, firm, round breasts. Her long hair was naturally blonde and wavy in that way people paid buckets of money to counterfeit. And her face...

  Emma felt a flush stain her cheeks. This was Josh’s last girlfriend. This paragon of feminine allure was the last woman he had been seriously involved with. She knew things had ended badly. The actress had smeared Josh’s name in the tabloids, raking in some serious cash for her stories. But the idea of coming after this woman, even in a fictional capacity, made her squirm. When the comparisons came, and she knew they would – probably not from Josh, but certainly from the world at large – they were not going to be kind to her.

  “Emma, sweetie, is that your name?” Lolly sashayed toward their table, stopping a few feet from Emma’s chair with a look of overdramatic concern. Her full lips were pursed, as if for a kiss. “Poor baby. You don’t think he’s really going to stay with you, do you? I know you probably think I’m some sort of jealous ex.” She tittered at the ludicrous idea. “But really, I’m just hear to talk.” The actress spoke slowly and put stress on nearly every other word, as if she genuinely believed she was talking to a child and was trying to make herself clear.

  Emma felt a thrum of agitation pulse through Josh’s arm and thigh where they pressed against hers. “Lolly,” he growled. But Emma laid her hand over his. Josh met her gaze, his blue-green eyes questioning. She tried to smile reassuringly, but he didn’t look convinced. Still, he subsided, leaning back in his chair slightly. He’d been on the verge of standing.

  Emma stood instead and turned the smile on Lolly, stretching it wider. “Ms. Tate. How... surprising of you to join us today. Let me have someone get you a chair.” From the corner of her eye, Emma could see an ashen-faced Dag whispering frantically into a headset. She caught his eye and flicked her fingers toward Lolly. His eyes widened, but he scurried off.

  “You’re such a doll.” Lolly’s smile was a sneer. The guests were all silent, watching the interaction intently.

  “What are you doing?” Josh muttered under his breath. Emma shifted slightly closer to him, the fingers of her left hand brushing over his shoulder. She spoke as softly as she could from the corner of her mouth, not taking her eyes off Lolly’s.

  “I’m trying to keep this from becoming a bigger scene. Lolly wants attention? I’ll give it to her. But on my terms. I don’t care what she says as long as she does it quietly. Maybe we can get her out of here without more of a spectacle.” She saw the dubious look he cast his ex and added, “The People pho
tographer has already reloaded his camera twice since she arrived. He’s just waiting for a cake-flinging catfight. Press like that won’t be good for the movie.” That was the whole point of this charade, after all. To get his precious movie made.

  Josh glanced in the direction of the magazine’s photographer. Emma didn’t need to look to know he was snapping away at her and Lolly. Josh’s low curse was confirmation enough.

  Dag came running up, face red, puffing as he lugged another linen-draped wooden chair to a table slightly to Emma’s right. Dag looked to her for confirmation that it was where she wanted it set. She nodded curtly and spread her hand out, inviting Lolly to sit.

  The blonde moved with a mincing, rolling gait that drew every male eye to the voluptuous curve of her hips. She had to have practiced that. No one really walked like that outside of a 1930’s cartoon. Emma gritted her teeth and waited for the bombshell to coo, ‘Boop-oop-a-doop, Boop!’ and giggle.

  Lolly didn’t sit, however. She lifted the chair and casually moved it from the round table where Dag had placed it, to a position directly across from Josh. She slid into it as smoothly as a bartender pouring a shot. Whispers ricocheted around the tent. The People photographer’s shutter click-whirred away.

  Emma remained standing for a moment longer, glancing over to Josh’s left, where Maisie and William Ransler were engaged in a heated, though inaudible, conversation. The warm-hearted redhead Emma was coming to think of as a friend was scowling, thick, ruddy brows drawn down over her long nose. She was clearly not happy with Lolly Tate’s presence.

  Emma folded herself back into her chair with less grace than Lolly had done. But, to be fair, her skirts were far more voluminous than the blonde’s clingy dress. Emma found Clarice’s steely gaze across the tent, huddled with a group of Picture Perfect staff, having a powwow. On how to remove Lolly Tate without incident, no doubt. She lifted her hand and gave a quick twirl with her pointer finger in the air.