Loving You (The Bridesmaids Club Book 2)

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Loving You (The Bridesmaids Club Book 2) Page 16

by Leeanna Morgan


  “We’ve created a monster,” Molly groaned. “It’s like that snaky thing in Greek mythology that kept growing two heads when one of them got cut off.”

  “It was a Hydra,” Sally said. “But Hercules got it in the end.”

  “And we’re going to conquer our dress problem, too,” Tess muttered. “I vote for choosing four letters this week. If we split the fittings, we should be able to get through more people.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Annie said. At least if she helped other brides’ dreams come true she’d have less time to focus on her own problem. The six-foot-five problem who made her feel dizzy and giddy and so out of her comfort zone that it wasn’t funny.

  Sally left Tess’ hot chocolate and a couple of pancakes in front of her before reaching inside the box. “First letter,” she said as she waved an envelope in the air. She looked at the postmark and the return address. “It’s from someone called Hailey Jackson. She lives in Bozeman.”

  “I hope she needs ten dresses,” Molly said.

  Sally grinned and read the letter inside the envelope. “Hailey’s sister is getting married in three months’ time. They’d like to choose four bridesmaids dresses.”

  “At least four dresses are better than two,” Annie said. “Next…”

  Tess reached inside the box and took out a large blue envelope. “This looks interesting…” She opened the envelope and read the letter. “Amanda McGregor from Edinburgh, in Scotland, saw a story about us on the Internet. She wants to start up a Bridesmaids Club in her hometown.”

  “Tell her not to do it.” Molly’s grin made everyone smile.

  “She wants to know what’s worked for us and what hasn’t.” Tess put the letter on the table. “I’ll write back and warn her to find a big warehouse for the dresses. I don’t know what the population of Edinburgh is, but she could be in serious trouble if a lot of women send their dresses to her.”

  “There are about five million people living there,” Molly said. “That’s a whole lot of warehouses filled to the brim.”

  “We could go global,” Annie said. “Imagine if there were Bridesmaids Clubs all over the world. We could send our dresses to them.”

  Tess laughed. “There you go. That would solve our storage problem within hours. We could refer all of our bridesmaids to someone else and never see another bridesmaid’s dress again.”

  “Until we get married,” Sally said.

  Annie and Molly choked on their hot drinks.

  “Not me,” Molly said. “I’m never getting married again.”

  “I’ll second that.” Annie put her hand inside the box of letters and pulled an envelope out. “I just hope I don’t find another letter like Bella’s.”

  Molly peered over her shoulder. “Who’s this letter from?”

  Annie looked at the postmark. “Someone in New Jersey.” She tore the envelope open and read the letter. “Amelia Harris’ sister is getting married in five months’ time. They’ve decided on a vintage theme and saw some of the dresses on our website. They loved them.”

  “How many does she want?” Tess asked.

  “Six.” The smile on Annie’s face grew wider. “…and listen to this…she works for one of the top wedding cake companies in Newark. She’s happy to make someone a wedding cake in exchange for the dresses.”

  Three pairs of eyes stared at Tess.

  “Why are you looking at me?”

  Sally dipped her hand in the box. “You’re getting married. It would be one less thing you’d have to do. You could ask…what was her name again?”

  “Amelia,” Molly said.

  “You could ask Amelia to make you a cake and send it to Montana.” Sally smiled confidently at Tess.

  “And you think transporting a cake across thousands of miles would be stress free? I’d sooner be awake all night decorating a cake, than having to rely on a FedEx delivery.”

  “Hang on a minute…” Annie looked down at the letter. “Amelia’s sister doesn’t get married for another five months. What if she brought the cake with her and picked the dresses up at the same time?”

  “You’re brilliant,” Sally said. “As long as she doesn’t mind being a bodyguard to a cake it would work.”

  Tess frowned. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we see if she wants to decorate my wedding cake right here in Bozeman? I could bake it and have everything ready for her. Did she send any photos of cakes she’s decorated?”

  “No photos, but I do have a website.” Annie walked across to her office and went to Amelia’s website. “Oh, wow. Look at these cakes…” She waited for everyone to pile into her office before flicking to the next photo.

  Tess sighed. “That cake could have been made for our wedding.” The three tier cake was decorated with a soft buttery frosting. “Are the roses real?”

  Annie peered at the screen, then read the text under the photo. “They’re made from fondant.” She looked at the photo again. The pale yellow roses looked so real that Annie doubted anyone could have done a better job. “I know you want to make your own cake, so why not ask Amelia to decorate it? She could change the roses and frosting to whatever color you want.”

  Tess looked at the screen. “I think you’re right. Did she give us her phone number?”

  Annie passed Tess the letter. “She’s all yours. How many bridesmaids’ letters do we still need?”

  “Two,” Tess said. “I’ll choose the next one.” They all went back into the kitchen and watched her pull a small brown envelope out of the box. “It’s from Montana. The senders name is Julia Richardson and she lives in Sidney.” She opened the envelope and smiled. “Julia’s mom and dad are getting remarried. They’re sixty years old. Julia and her sister Margaret are their bridesmaids. They’ve seen two dresses they like and want to know if they can make an appointment to see us.”

  “That should be an easy fix,” Sally said. “My turn.” She reached into the box and pulled out the last envelope. “It’s from Colorado.” She picked the tape off the back of the envelope and opened the card inside. “We have to help this bride. Her fiancé lost his job and they’re living on Olivia’s part-time wages. She has two bridesmaids.”

  “When are they getting married?”

  “In four months’ time,” Sally said. “That’s a grand total of fourteen dresses accounted for. At least it’s something.”

  Tess took her plate and cup to the kitchen. “It’s not a shortage of bridesmaids that’s our main problem - it’s us. We’ve all got busy lives. We don’t have enough time to match more bridesmaids with dresses. Do you think we should think about finding someone to help us?”

  Sally followed Tess. “I think it’s a great idea. But if we answered more letters, we could end up with a relentless stream of brides and bridesmaids traipsing through Logan’s home. How do you think he’d feel about that?”

  “With more bridesmaids, we’d eventually have fewer dresses to find homes for.” Molly pulled her laptop out of its case. “Is Logan okay with the number of bridesmaids visiting his house at the moment?”

  “He doesn’t see them,” Tess said. “The separate entrance to the loft makes a big difference. And after we’re married he’ll have other things on his mind.”

  Sally groaned and put her hands over her ears. “I don’t want to know what you’ll be doing in that huge home of his.”

  “I know what they’ll be doing.” Annie laughed. “I’ve seen the paint samples Tess has been sneaking into the house when Logan’s not there. The poor man’s going to be covered in paint splatters for the next year.”

  “Talking about paint splatters, do you know if Dylan needs a hand to move anything into his new home?” Sally asked.

  “You just want to look inside,” Tess said. “I know how your mind works.”

  Sally grinned. “What’s it like, Annie?”

  “Huge and amazing. The kitchen is out of this world.”

  Molly turned her laptop around. “The pictures are still on the realtor’
s website.”

  Sally leaned in close and watched the photos of Dylan’s new home slide across the screen. “It’s like something out of Hollywood.”

  Molly looked up. An excited smile lit her face. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner.” She found the images of Dylan’s kitchen and pulled Annie closer to the laptop. “We could photograph the meals for your business in Dylan’s kitchen. The food will look lovely sitting on the granite counters.”

  Tess joined them at the table. “We could have fresh flowers in vases, like what Sally did here. We could find some pretty napkins and trays, give the photos a warm and homely feel, but with a touch of sophistication.”

  “Aspirational photos,” Molly said softly. “We’re selling more than food in the photos. We’re selling a lifestyle choice. We want people to know they’re getting healthy, homemade meals made from the best ingredients. Photographing the meals in a kitchen that most of us can only dream about will reinforce all of those messages.”

  “That’s all very well,” Anne said. “But I’m not sure Dylan would agree. He hasn’t even moved in yet and we’ve already taken over his kitchen.”

  “It would only be for a few hours,” Molly said. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

  Sally glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to go. I texted Dylan this morning and told him I’d meet him at the animal shelter in an hour. I need to make the kittens look so cute that he’ll want to keep them forever.”

  Annie didn’t see how the kittens she’d seen on Sally’s cell phone could look cuter than they had yesterday. She’d been tempted to offer her home for them, but starting a new business would mean long hours away from her apartment. Three mischievous kittens left alone for most of the day wasn’t the best start to their lives.

  Sally gazed at her with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. “What about you, Annie? We’ve got a lot of shelter kittens looking for a home.”

  She reluctantly shook her head. “I’d love too, but not yet. Maybe when my business is more established.”

  Sally smiled. “I’ll remember that. Where are you all going to be in a couple of hours?”

  Molly had her head bent over her keyboard, staring at the template they’d decided to use for Annie’s website. “We should have most of the framework for the website finished soon. I guess we’ll be back at Logan’s house unpacking dresses.”

  “Why don’t you text us when you finish at the shelter to see where we are?” Tess said. “I can make lunch for everyone.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Sally picked up her bag and headed toward the front door. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Annie watched Sally leave. Dylan didn’t stand a chance against the animal shelter queen of Montana. She was relentless, taking every opportunity she could find to match stray animals with big-hearted people. And sometimes, without knowing she was doing it, Sally placed animals with people who were every bit as lost as the animals they took in.

  Annie had a feeling that Sally’s uncanny knack for healing past hurts was about to strike again. She just hoped Dylan was prepared for the upheaval three little kittens could cause, especially if he decided they wouldn’t be going back to the shelter.

  Chapter Nine

  Dylan opened his front door and pulled Todd in fast. “Thank God you’re here.” He slammed the door shut and looked at the floor before taking a single step.

  Todd raised his eyebrows. “You look like shit.”

  Dylan’s partner in crime didn’t look much better, but that was for completely different reasons. “I’ve been in the basement looking for lost kittens. I don’t think anyone’s been down there for years.”

  Todd didn’t wait for the rest of Dylan’s sad tale. He slung his backpack off his shoulder and left it on the hall table. Within seconds he’d pulled out a giant flashlight and half a dozen small cloth mice.

  Dylan held one of the stuffed critters by the tail and frowned. “Catnip?”

  “Double strength. Mavis Buckley makes them.”

  Dylan didn’t have a clue who Mavis Buckley was, but he was glad Todd did. If he lost a kitten within an hour of bringing them home, Sally wouldn’t forgive him. If he lost three, she’d never trust him with a shelter animal again.

  If Annie heard what he’d done she’d shake her head in horror. He knew without a doubt that confessing his stupidity to her would be worse than telling Sally.

  Todd put the catnip mice in the sling supporting his right arm and moved silently across the room. Getting shot in New York hadn’t slowed him down. Unlike a lot of things in his life, the sling was a minor inconvenience that time would heal. Todd was close to finding the men responsible for his wife and son’s murder. He was starting to rebuild his life, one step at a time.

  Todd stopped in front of the door to the basement. “Have you found any of the kittens?”

  “No. I thought I saw Boxer, but then he disappeared. I haven’t seen Boots and Blinky at all.”

  Todd frowned. “You’ve named them?”

  “Not me. Sally.”

  “Are you sure this Sally person knows what she’s doing? You’re the last person I’d leave a litter of kittens with.”

  Dylan didn’t know whether to puff his chest out and feel proud that Sally thought he could give the kittens a good temporary home, or stand in line behind the other no-hopers who didn’t care diddly-squat about what the animal shelter was doing.

  He crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at Todd. “She gave me good instructions.”

  Todd grunted, then turned his flashlight on. “You coming into the basement with me?”

  Sweat broke out on Dylan’s forehead. He hated enclosed spaces almost as much as he hated touching people. He’d been locked underground in Afghanistan for six weeks, not knowing whether he was going to live or die. The last thing he wanted was to go back down into his basement and search for the kittens.

  Todd looked at the cat flap a previous owner had cut into the door. “I take it the kittens found this door and disappeared?”

  Dylan nodded. “Sally said to keep them in the laundry until they got used to living in a house. I thought I’d show them around…make them feel at home…” Dylan glanced at Todd. He was staring back at him as if he’d lost his marbles. But it wasn’t his marbles he needed to find. It was three little kittens that had kind of grown on him.

  “You do know they’re cats and not humans, right?”

  “Cut the smart ass comments and start looking for my kittens,” Dylan growled. “I’ll follow you down.”

  Todd didn’t bother saying another word. He gave Dylan one last worried glance before opening the door. “How long have they been down here for?”

  “About an hour.”

  “And you haven’t heard them talking to each other?”

  Dylan would have smiled if he hadn’t been so stressed. “They might have meowed, but I didn’t hear them. I was too busy trying not to freak out.”

  Another grunt from Todd and they were heading down the wooden stairs. “What did you tell me to bring my flashlight for? This place is lit up like the fourth of July.”

  Dylan hadn’t paid too much attention to the lighting situation either. Except in the far corner, under the furnace. It was pitch black, full of cobwebs and dust, and about as far out of Dylan’s comfort zone as he could get. “Weren’t you ever a Boy Scout?”

  Todd ignored him and pulled a cloth mouse out of his sling. He’d lost his sense of humor a long time ago and Dylan couldn’t blame him. Over the last eight months they’d become friends, relying on each other for their sanity, not their sense of humor.

  Todd crouched down on the concrete floor and wiggled the mouse in front of him. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty…” he cooed.

  Dylan’s mouth dropped open. He nearly laughed, until he remembered he was in the basement.

  Todd must have sensed the change in Dylan’s stress levels. He looked over his shoulder and frowned. “If you want to do something constructive, point this flashli
ght along the bottom edge of the walls.”

  Dylan wasn’t going to disagree with him. Todd had given up his Sunday morning to bail him out of trouble. He’d make him lunch afterward if it helped find the kittens quicker.

  He took the flashlight out of Todd’s hand and turned it on.

  If anyone had wandered into the basement, they would have had plenty to laugh about. Todd and Dylan were crouched low, crawling around the floor on their hands and knees. Todd kept repeating his, “Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…” and Dylan kept listening for an answering meow.

  Then out of the deepest, darkest corner of the room came a pitiful meow. Dylan spun the flashlight toward the furnace. Damn. If any of the kittens were hiding in there, Todd would have to get them out.

  Todd took one look at Dylan’s face and held his hand out for the flashlight. “Guess it’s me who’s going in. How big are they?”

  Dylan held his hands about seven inches apart. “They might be small, but they’re fast. Boxer’s the leader of the pack. He’s the kitten with a big black spot of color over one of his eyes. If you get him first, his sisters will come out looking for him.”

  Todd pointed the flashlight toward the furnace. “You sure about that?” Two little eyes were glowing out of the darkness.

  “Almost.” Dylan stared at the kitten, hoping it would make it easier on everyone and find its own way toward the catnip mouse.

  “Get ready to pick the kitten up when it gets close,” Todd said quietly. “I’m going to balance the flashlight in my sling so that I can use my hand.”

  Dylan followed Todd as he crawled slowly toward the glowing eyes.

  Another high-pitched meow filled the basement and Todd slowed down. The kitten was crouched under the furnace. It sounded as though it hadn’t eaten anything in days. “I know you’re hungry, little one. Come and see Dylan and he’ll make you a nice bowl of warm milk.”

  Dylan didn’t know about the milk, but he was seeing a side of Todd that he didn’t know existed. They’d worked together on Todd’s ranch, followed gangsters and the mafia around New York and been involved in a shoot-out that could have ended in disaster. Never once had Todd shown a softer side, a side to his personality that calmed the smallest of animals. But that’s what he was doing now.

 

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