His Sister's Wedding

by Carol Rose

  Sleeping in her frilly bed without her would be torture, but the couch was damned short.

  Forcing himself to be sensible, Luke crossed to an upholstered chair beside the bed. He had to get some sleep and this was the only bed in the house.

  He undressed slowly, careful to drape his clothes over the chair. A porcelain clock on the bedside table ticked gently in the silence.

  His stint in the tiny bathroom gave his system another shock.

  Pantyhose dangled from the shower rod. A delicate lavender bra hung from a hook over the tub.

  Luke averted his eyes, swearing under his breath. Being with Lillie without touching her was bad enough when he didn't know what she wore underneath her clothing.

  He knew that pale, lacy bra was going to haunt him for a long time.

  Finishing in the bathroom, he went back into her bedroom and heard a soft yowling at the window. The cat.

  Luke went to the front door, feeling like a fool as he called out "Here, kitty, kitty," to the dead of night. Just as he was about to close the door, the cat bedamned, Tiger came strolling around the corner in the lazy manner of a beast who counts no one as his master.

  "Get in here, fur ball," Luke growled, as the cat hesitated on the threshold.

  With the door shut and braced with a kitchen chair, he went back to the bedroom and stoically climbed into the bed. Her bed.

  It was just as soft and sweet smelling as he'd anticipated. Luke felt his body tense. He was in for a very long night and only five hours of it were left.

  Switching off her bedside lamp, he stared grimly into the darkness. Tomorrow he was going to install the strongest deadbolt he could find on Lillie's front door, whether she wanted it or not.

  The only thing worse than sleeping alone in her bed, was worrying about her here by herself.

  * * *

  Luke slammed the van door and sprinted toward the church, not sparing more than a glance at its ornate exterior. He was already late, having taken the time to unload some stock from the van. With the heat, the shrubs would have wilted beyond redemption if left locked up in the van.

  He hoped Lillie hadn't been waiting long. She'd scheduled for them to meet with the music director to choose the music for Melanie's wedding. No matter how he dragged his feet, the plans for the dratted event were marching forward.

  He knew Lillie was hoping to talk him into using this old, ornate church as the wedding site instead of the garden. She'd mentioned hearing of a cancellation in December, a rare occurrence for a chapel normally booked two years in advance.

  Luke had to grin as he jogged up the steps. She was a persistent little witch. Persistent, stubborn and altogether too enticing. Just the thought of her wearing the lavender bra he'd seen hanging from her shower gave him a heat rash.

  As he opened the heavy church door the rich sound of organ music swelled out. Stepping inside, Luke felt engulfed in it, awash in song as the dark, cool chapel surrounded him.

  He was halfway down the aisle before his eyes began adjusting. The jewel tones of stained glass gave the light an unreal glow. Rich wood, carved and stained, adorned every surface but the floor. The carpet felt thick and cushiony beneath his feet.

  Peering through the dimness, Luke strode further into the empty church, the gently swelling chords of organ music welcoming him. Searching for Lillie in the faint light, he immediately spotted her in the second row...and felt his footsteps falter on the thick carpet.

  Lillie wasn't alone in the pew. His mother sat next to her.

  Luke walked forward slowly as his gaze rested on their anxious faces, turned toward him. Even in this light, he could see Lillie gnawing nervously on her lower lip.

  Beautiful, idealistic, luscious Lillie. She just couldn't leave it alone. Her Pollyanna tendencies made it hard for her to accept reality. The breach between his mother and him had solidified years ago.

  Some transgressions couldn't be wiped away by a smile and an apology. Not after ten years of silence. He might not be Lillie's ideal of a sensitive mate, but Luke did believe family came first.

  That being so, how could he forgive a mother who'd walked away from hers in the name of love?

  Lillie watched Luke's stern face with growing trepidation as he walked up the aisle toward them. Maybe allowing Janet to come along wasn't such a good idea after all.

  As she'd lain awake in his bed several nights ago, she'd envisioned the tender look in his eyes as he comforted her after the robbery. That was the man she wanted to help, the man she was sure couldn't be happy estranged from his mother.

  Clutching the music selection sheet in her hand, unable to tear her eyes from his rigid face, she wondered how she could have misjudged the extent of his anger.

  He stopped at the end of the pew where they waited, his face the blank emotionless mask she hated. Where was the protective man who'd reassured her so gently, the man who'd installed a deadbolt lock behind her back to make sure she was safe?

  Luke's detached gaze rested on Lillie as he stopped at the pew where they waited. "Just couldn't keep from meddling, could you?"

  Impulsively, Lillie stretched out her hand to him. "I couldn't say no. I don't know what the problem is between you, but won't you at least give her a chance?"

  His eyes grew heated on her face before dropping to stare at her outstretched hand. "This is none of your business."

  Lillie felt slapped, the raw bitterness in his tone tight against the soft background of organ music She let her hand fall, struggling with a miserable sense of failure. She'd only wanted to help, but it seemed she'd made things worse.

  "It's not Lillie's fault," Janet interjected, her words agitated. "I begged her to help make you listen."

  "What exactly am I to listen to? Seventeen years ago you 'fell in love' with a man who wasn't your husband, so you up and left your family to be with him. There's nothing to discuss."

  Surprise gripped Lillie, holding her immobile. His mother had run away with another man?

  "That's not true," Luke's mother protested, tears glittering in her eyes. "Things weren't so black and white. You were only ten years old when your father and I broke up--"

  "Melanie was only three." Luke's statement rang with accusation.

  "--You weren't old enough to understand what went on between your father and me." Janet hesitated, her hand clenching a tissue. "He wasn't a very giving man."

  "You didn't get roses on your birthday and he didn't write you poems," Luke jeered.

  "It was more than that," his mother said, her lowered voice barely audible above the hymn. "He shut me out, took me for granted. Night after night I cried myself to sleep, longing for some sort of emotion from him."

  "So you just found someone else? It was that easy?"

  Lillie looked down at her trembling hands, unable to bear the condemnation and pain in his face. Luke's voice held a harshness that grated her nerves. How wrong she'd been in the beginning to think him emotionless. How painful the loss of his mother must have been.

  "No!" Janet cried. "It wasn't easy and it wasn't right. I admit that. When Bob came along, he was so crazy about me, so happy and free. He made me feel...young and beautiful."

  "And where is good old Bob now?" Luke asked sarcastically.

  Janet shrugged. "Off chasing some other woman. It was over between us years ago. Bob is great at sweet words and big promises, but he isn't the type of man you can rely on."

  "It didn't turn out the way you planned," Luke finished, no victory in his face.

  His mother looked up, determination visible in her posture. "I was wrong to leave your father. I should have stayed and worked on our problems instead of chasing after an easy answer. We might have ended up divorced, but at least I would have given it my all."

  "Well, I'm glad you learned something from the experience," Luke said, the hard note still in his voice. "But I don't see how it has anything to do with me or Melanie."

  "Luke, I love you," his mother begged while the organist in the
loft played away, unaware of the family drama unfolding in the empty church.

  "You used to say that seventeen years ago, too," Luke said, "right before you left us with Dad."

  Janet flushed. "I know I haven't been a good mother--"

  "You just stopped calling, stopped seeing us," Luke interrupted flatly.

  The tissue in Janet's hands shredded. "I tried to stay in touch. For seven years after the divorce, I kept hoping your bitterness would change. Finally, I just gave up. You were seventeen years old by then and still so angry with me. You told me to go away, that you didn't need a mother anymore."

  "So you went," he said ironically. "It only took one angry, hurt seventeen year old to kill your maternal instinct."

  Janet broke into sobs, her hand to her face.

  "I'm sure you sincerely regret everything," Luke said without expression. "But it'll take more than an apology and a few tears to wipe the slate clean."

  With one last searing glance at Lillie, he turned and walked out.

  Lillie watched him go, torn between comforting the sobbing woman beside her and chasing after Luke to give him a piece of her mind. Yes, he'd been hurt as a child, but adulthood was supposed to bring some maturity, some concern for others.

  But adulthood had brought its offenses to Luke, as well, she remembered, wondering again about the fiancée who'd left him.

  The image of Luke's cold, emotionless expression floated in Lillie's mind. Like the slam of a door, he shut away his compassion, his kindness and even his anger. How horrible it would be to be his lover when he pulled himself inside and shut her out.

  Suppressing a shiver, Lillie led Janet Howard out of the sanctuary.

  He'd been hurt badly twice in his life. What were the chances he could ever really love again?

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was moments like these when Lillie almost wished she'd been an only child.

  Climbing the steps to Luke's office, she thrust aside her reluctance to face the lion in his den. He was probably still mad at her for interfering, but she had to fulfill her promise to Scott and Melanie. The wedding plans couldn't wait.

  In the days since their disastrous morning at the church a week ago, Lillie had puzzled things over and over in her mind. It was very clear to her how Luke had turned against love. Being rejected by his fiancée must have only underscored a belief he'd held since childhood. Romantic love eventually brought pain. His mother falling in love with a man other than Luke's father had resulted in her leaving Luke.

  But that admittedly wrenching experience didn't justify shutting himself off from love for the rest of his life. She just couldn't accept that Luke was too scarred to take another chance on love.

  Would he ever see that? It didn't take any effort for Lillie to recall the searing anger in his eyes when he'd told her to mind her own business. No matter how much he wanted to talk her into his bed and his way of thinking, Luke wouldn't cut her any slack for interfering with his mother.

  Pushing open the office door she paused, engulfed in a blast of cool air. Two desks occupied the functional office space, islands in a small sea of tiled floor.

  Luke sat at one desk, a litter of papers serving as a coaster for a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

  "Good morning," Lillie offered.

  He looked like trouble personified, she thought, sitting there in the chair with his feet propped negligently on the desk.

  With his jeans snugged against muscular thighs and his dark hair boyishly ruffled, he brought back all her fantasies of tangled sheets and slick skin.

  The man looked like he had a bullet with her name on it.

  "Good morning," Luke drawled, his feet dropping to the floor.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting your work." She sank into the chair across the desk from him, trying to interpret his expression.

  "You're never an unwelcome intrusion," Luke said smoothly.

  "Thank you. I think." Lillie eyed him warily, not quite able to judge his mood, but suspecting she'd been right. He was still angry with her. It showed in the tightness behind his smile and the hardness in his eyes. "I have to admit that I'm coming with bad news. Your sister has decided you and I should choose the bridesmaids' dresses."

  "The bridesmaids' dresses?"

  "Yes. You know, the outfits worn by the girls who'll stand up with Melanie," she explained, deciding to ignore the faintly menacing gleam in his eyes.

  "So why is this bad news?" Luke asked, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

  Lillie frowned. "Have you ever tried to pick out one dress to suit five different women?"

  "Not recently," he admitted. "But I always like a challenge."

  "This is more like an impossible quest," she said, not sure he understood. "Usually I just try to please the bride and her maid of honor, but Melanie insists she can't take the time out from studying for mid-terms to do it now."

  "Then I think you and I should pick out the dresses," he said abruptly, his smile widening. "Why don't we do it now?"

  Lillie stared at him. "You want to pick out bridesmaid dresses?"

  "Why not?" He got up from his chair and shoved some papers in a desk drawer. "My morning is clear. Let's go do it."

  "Wait, we need to contact the bridesmaids. They'll have to be sized...."

  Luke stood in front of her, that infuriating, challenging smile still on his face. "It'll be much simpler with just the two of us," he murmured. "We can send the girls in to try the dresses on once we've made our pick."

  She couldn't argue with his reasoning, but she should've. Something was fishy about the whole situation. Why on earth would a man like Luke actually want to debate the virtues of taffeta over organdy? His enthusiasm baffled her almost as much as the glittering smile in his eyes.

  They took Luke's car. Lillie sat beside him, searching for conversation to distract herself from the lingering sense of his displeasure. More than anything, she wanted to discuss their last meeting, to get everything out in the open. But the set of his jaw made her hesitate.

  Settling for the innocuous, she finally asked, "How's your week going?"

  Luke pulled onto a busy street. "I spent my day trying to get through to the V.P. at Unicom."

  "The big account you're shooting for?" she murmured, still battling her urge to bring up the topic bouncing around in her brain. She'd never been good at ignoring trouble, but he'd made it plain that his relationship with Janet wasn't her business.

  "Yeah," he said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I finally got confirmation that they're looking at landscaping proposals, but I still don't have an appointment. Yet."

  "But it still sounds encouraging." Lillie tried to inject some enthusiasm into her voice.

  "Yes. I'm moving ahead with it. In addition to the usual line drawings and price quotes, I'm going to do a mock-up and photograph it for the proposal," Luke said.

  Lillie stared at him as he drove, his ability to dismiss his emotions both amazed and distressed her. Had he walked away from the tumultuous meeting with his mother undisturbed?

  "Luke," she said impulsively, "about the other day at the church...."

  He slanted her a glance, not responding immediately. Stopping at a traffic light, he turned to her with an irritated sigh. "Look, I know it's hard for you to understand, Lillie. But things are the way they are."

  She leaned toward him, all the tangled emotions she'd battled surging forward. "It must have been terrible for you as a child--"

  "That was a long time ago," he interrupted her, his voice level and his smile holding only the faintest glitter of anger. "It's ancient history. I know you were just trying to be helpful, but there's nothing more to be said."

  Silenced, Lillie sat back against her seat, wondering how she could be attracted to a man so adept at cutting off his emotions.

  Without question, Luke had the right to work out his relationship with his mother any way he wanted. Lillie could have even forgiven his refusal to do so at all. But this blatant withholding of his e
motions from her reminded Lillie why she couldn't allow herself to give in to the feelings he called forth in her. Being with a man who was emotionally withdrawn felt like her own definition of purgatory.

  What had his mother said about his father? That she felt shut out, isolated? Apparently, the men in Luke's family had a pattern of shutting their women out.

  Within half an hour, they were at one of the largest formal wear shops in Kisseemee. Lillie walked into the pink and lavender showroom, her feet sinking into the plush carpet, every nuance of her consciousness aware of Luke behind her.

  Chandeliers glittered and feminine flounces abounded. Lillie glanced over her shoulder and met Luke's bland gaze. He looked large and dark and...male. He should have been uncomfortable in the situation, but instead she was the one who felt like biting her nails.

  "Ms. Parker!" A saleswoman hurried over to them, her face as harried as her voice was welcoming. "We're so glad to see you."

  "Thank you, Marge." Lillie tried to ignore the curious glances the woman kept throwing at Luke. "We need to look at some bridesmaid dresses."

  "Of course." Marge nodded, waving her hand toward an open archway through which the glimmer of rich fabrics could be seen. "Why don't you go on in? You know where everything is. I have another customer I'm helping, but I'll check on you in a moment to see if you need anything."

  "That will be fine," Lillie assured her, torn between relief to be rid of the woman's obvious curiosity, and the desire to have a buffer between herself and Luke.

  Why she felt the need for protection in this setting, she didn't know. They were definitely on her turf.

  The next room displayed dresses of every color and style. Racks circled the pink brocade room, covering the walls except for the dressing area in the far corner.

  Moving to a rack that held dresses by a maker that she trusted, Lillie pulled several out.

  "Something like this would work with your sister's wedding dress." She held a classic full-skirted dress with modified puff sleeves out for Luke's examination.

  He frowned at the wine-colored dress. "I don't know."