Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set

by Carly Phillips

  “So do I.” But if his driven, workaholic brother often ignored Carly in favor of legal briefs and pestering clients, he needed a libido transplant.

  “He wanted to be here,” she said.

  “I never said otherwise. I just said he hasn’t changed.”

  A muscle twitched in her cheek for a second before she gave in and smiled. “I guess you do know your brother well.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “It’s just that he’s always concerned about you, but you’re...” She trailed off. A slight flush stained her cheeks, painting them a rosy pink.

  “Rarely in touch,” he finished for her. “Comes with the territory. The places I travel lack the luxury of pay phones.”

  “But the two of you are close.”

  “We’re brothers.” For Mike, that said it all. But for each other, Mike and Peter had no one else in the world who cared. Except Carly. Peter now had his fiancée and Mike had to stop staring at her as if he’d discovered uncharted territory. Better to concentrate on the upcoming wedding and lifelong commitment between Carly and his brother.

  “How long will you be in town?” she asked.

  “At least the month until the wedding and probably awhile afterward. Then I hit the road again.” He had no other choice. He’d left mid-assignment because he’d allowed personal demons to haunt him. He knew damn well he had to face them down if he wanted to look himself in the mirror every morning. Mike Novack never left a job undone, and the man he knew himself to be wouldn’t let the past haunt him.

  Once he returned to the rambling life he’d always loved, everything would get back to normal. Or so he hoped, glancing at the woman about to marry his brother.

  “Ready to check out the rings inside?” Mike asked.

  “Sure.” But her gaze strayed to the jewel-filled window once again.

  “Is there one you really like?” he asked.

  “Those.” She leaned forward and tapped lightly, indicating a set of simple two-toned rings.

  A woman with substance. His mind ran through their earlier banter and he realized she’d meant every word. “They’re beautiful,” he said.

  She turned to look at him. “But not Peter’s taste.” A frown touched her lips and a corresponding sadness flashed in her gentle brown eyes.

  “You’re right. They wouldn’t stop traffic. Pete would prefer something a little more... noticeable.”

  She sighed.

  “You obviously know him well, too,” Mike said.

  She smiled. “We understand each other.”

  Did they? Mike had spent but a few minutes with each and he’d already begun to wonder. Watching Carly stare longingly at the rings in the window, he grew concerned.

  “It’s getting late,” she murmured. “I hope he realizes these things can’t be rushed and we have to have them ordered, sized and engraved. Then there’s the tuxedos, the final flower arrangements, the...”

  “Relax. No list is set in stone. It’ll all get done in time.”

  “Only if we follow my schedule.”

  Mike placed a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, realizing his mistake too late. Her skin felt like fine silk beneath his roughened fingers. He breathed in deeply. She looked like sunshine and smelled like vanilla. A potent combination, he discovered.

  “What if we get a cup of coffee and go over this schedule of yours? I’m sure you’d relax once you see everything will fall into place.”

  Her frantic gaze darted from his hand, which remained on her shoulder, to the rings in the storefront window. “Coffee’s not such a good idea.”

  He ought to let her go. After his overwhelming reaction to her, distance seemed the safest route. “We’ve got the time,” he muttered instead.

  “Pick up any magazine or newspaper. Caffeine’s not good for you.” She stepped toward the street. Before he realized her intent, a yellow taxi screeched to a halt.

  “Thanks for meeting me. I’m sure with all the wedding things going on I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” Her rambling clearly stated that she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Those huge brown eyes told another story.

  “Count on it,” he said with a smile.

  No sooner had she darted into the waiting cab than the taxi pulled away from the curb.

  “Ah, the joys of living in New York City.” He watched as the brake lights disappeared into the maze of traffic, taking Carly farther away.

  * * *

  Carly stepped into the familiar lobby of Peter’s building. The smell of fresh paint permeated the air. Clean white walls surrounded chrome and mirrors. She wasn’t surprised. Thanks to the cost of the apartment and the condominium fees, the tenants in this Upper East Side luxury building demanded quality service and maintenance. Peter was no exception.

  “Evening, Miss Wexler.”

  “Hi, George.” Carly smiled at the gray-haired doorman she’d known as long as she’d known Peter. “Is he in?” she asked.

  “Flew past me not ten minutes ago.”

  “Good. Do me a favor, don’t announce me.” She leaned closer to the small desk. “I want to surprise him.”

  The older man grinned. “Not a problem. You be good,” he said with a laugh.

  “I always am. Thanks, George. And you have a nice night.” With a wave, she headed for the bank of elevators at the far end of the hall.

  In the normal course of events, Carly went out of her way not to surprise Peter, but his schedule had been decidedly uncooperative lately.

  The elevator doors glided open and Carly stepped inside. Since her engagement, she’d given the wedding planning “experts” free rein. In her role as columnist and counselor, others relied on Carly for advice, but in her personal life she had no problem deferring to those more experienced than she... especially now. She’d made a commitment, and vows were something she intended to repeat only once in this lifetime.

  She stepped out of the elevator and walked down the familiar hallway, pausing outside Peter’s apartment. A rush of panic hit her and she wished she’d called first.

  Too late. She rapped lightly on the door.

  “Coming.” The muffled voice was followed by heavy footsteps and the rattle of a chain lock.

  “You guys are late and I’m starving.” The door swung open wide. “You’re not the pizza man.”

  Carly swallowed hard. “And you’re not Peter.” She hadn’t expected to see Mike again without being forewarned. Nor had she expected the adrenaline rush to be quite so potent the second time.

  “Thankfully, no. I’m much more laid-back and a heck of a lot better-looking.”

  “All ego,” she said, suppressing a grin.

  “Not enough substance?” Mike asked.

  Too much, she thought, as they fell into the easy banter of earlier that afternoon.

  He gestured her inside. Carly stepped past him. The warm aroma of spiced aftershave assaulted her senses, heightening her awareness of the man standing in the entryway. Behind her, the apartment door closed with a heavy thud. She turned to find Mike leaning, one shoulder propped against the wall. One bare muscular shoulder. A shudder rippled through her, catching her unaware.

  “Did you decide to take me up on that cup of coffee?” he asked with a knowing grin.

  She fingered her bangs. “I’d forgotten all about it” She hadn’t forgotten him, though. In fact, she’d spent the rest of the day attempting to push all thoughts of Mike Novack out of her mind.

  He walked toward her, forcing her to acknowledge that she’d been unsuccessful in her attempt. “I’m disappointed,” he said. “But you can make up for your lack of concern by sharing my pizza.” His gaze never wavered.

  Golden eyes captured her, making her feel cornered. Light-headed. Excited. She anticipated the rush that came with their verbal sparring.

  He tapped the tip of her nose with one finger. “I hate eating alone.”

  “I’ll bet you rarely do,” she muttered.

  A cough jolted Carly into sudden a
wareness of her surroundings. She jerked away from Mike, feeling a mixture of guilt and lingering desire.

  “This is a surprise,” Peter said, watching them both from a few feet away.

  “Not an unwelcome one, I’m sure.” Mike walked past her and seated himself on the sleek leather couch in the living room. He propped his feet on a glass cocktail table and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Of course not,” Peter said. He smiled and extended a hand toward Carly. She went to him, trying to ignore the feel of Mike’s burning gaze. She brushed a kiss on Peter’s damp cheek. Freshly showered, he smelled of familiar soap and shampoo. He drew her against him, resting his arm around her waist. “Carly’s always welcome. This visit just wasn’t planned.”

  Carly grinned and elbowed him in the ribs. “Since planning hasn’t worked, I decided to ambush you instead. Look.” She patted the bag that hung from her shoulder, bulging with lists and articles from the most recent wedding magazines.

  Peter groaned. Looking thoroughly put out and grumbling about neurotic women, he allowed Carly to lead him to the couch and push him onto the cushion beside Mike. She knew better than to be insulted. Long before they’d gotten engaged, she and Peter had been friends. He understood her even when she drove him to sheer exasperation with her never-ending lists and articles. Besides, they shared the same goal—marriage and the perks that came with it.

  For Carly those perks included stability and security. For Peter, she sensed their engagement had more to do with her solid support as he climbed the ladder toward partnership. When all was said and done, they wanted the same things, even if their dreams were a little different.

  “Ready to get started?” She knelt down beside her fiancé.

  “Go for it,” Mike said.

  She chuckled aloud, determined to ignore the feelings he aroused. Seated together, Carly noticed a slight resemblance between the brothers. Both had light brown hair, though Peter’s had been recently cut and lacked the sun-kissed streaks of gold. They possessed similar profiles, but Mike’s tanned skin glowed from time spent in the rugged outdoors. Peter possessed a refined polish, a veneer he’d worked hard to achieve. She appreciated both men’s handsome looks... and refused to compare any further.

  “Can we make it quick?” Peter asked. “I’ve got a brief to finish and file by nine tomorrow morning.”

  “Pete...”

  “Sure,” Carly said, cutting Mike off. He hadn’t been around often enough to understand the demands of his brother’s job. Having grown up the daughter of a prominent attorney, Carly did. “Humor me for a little while,” she said and began to pull items from her bag.

  Calendar, lists and pictures soon decorated the table. Despite Peter’s token protests, Carly knew he realized that a few hours tonight would save them both a lot of aggravation in the future.

  “See what I have to put up with?” Peter asked. She recognized the tinge of humor in his voice.

  Mike glanced at Carly. “Life’s rough, Pete. Next time a beautiful woman wants my undivided attention for a few hours, remind me to complain.”

  “Even if she wants to domesticate you?” Peter held up a glossy photo of a bride and groom.

  The brothers shared a laugh, allowing Carly to see the bond that existed between them. One she hadn’t truly believed in before now.

  “In that case,” Mike said, “I’d be on the first plane out of here.”

  Carly’s stomach contracted painfully, a spasm she attributed to an aching emptiness and a sudden need... for food.

  * * *

  Mike yawned, glad the wedding plans were finally winding down.

  “That’s two P.M. Friday at the tuxedo place and ten A.M. Saturday at the florist?” Pete asked.

  Carly glanced down at her appointment book and nodded. “No excuses, no delays.” She pointedly raised her eyes and looked at her fiancé.

  “As long as no surprises come up.”

  “They won’t.”

  Mike closed the pizza box. Despite the presence of his brother and Carly, he’d eaten alone. For the better part of two hours, Carly and Peter had bargained their way through last minute wedding arrangements. If the couple sitting before him was to be believed, the perfect wedding involved little sentiment and a lot of details. The Carly Wexler he’d seen mooning over her favorite wedding band hours earlier had displayed more emotion than the one here tonight.

  What had happened to the glimpse he’d gotten of the softhearted romantic? Around his brother, she was nowhere to be found.

  “You’ll be there or I’ll compromise my principles and have my father cover your caseload himself.” An angelic smile lit her features.

  “Father?” Mike couldn’t help but interrupt.

  His brother glanced over. “Senior partner,” he muttered. A match made in professional heaven. Mike nearly choked on a mouthful of soda.

  Peter turned to Carly. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

  “Then we’re all set.” She snapped her leather-bound diary closed.

  “Definitely for the tuxedos, possibly for the flowers,” Pete said in an obvious last-minute attempt to maneuver the plans to his advantage.

  She lifted one eyebrow. Mike held his breath.

  “Done,” she said.

  A woman who apparently knew when to accept compromise gracefully.

  Peter stood. Carly followed, rising from her seat on the floor. She stretched her arms above her head. Her round breasts lifted enticingly beneath the body-hugging material of her tank top. Mike’s groin hardened, thrusting against the rough denim of his jeans. He swallowed a groan. A long night was about to get much longer.

  “Time to let you get back to your work,” she said to Peter.

  His brother smiled. “A woman after my own heart.” He placed one hand on the small of her back.

  To his shock, Mike bit back a protest at the intimate contact. Throughout the evening, other than to ask Mike an occasional wedding-related question, Carly had ignored him. Having been the sole focus of her attention twice today, he couldn’t help feeling slighted.

  “Good job, you two,” Mike said.

  Startled, she whirled around and met his gaze. She brushed at her bangs. Her wide-eyed vulnerability hit him hard.

  “Mike.”

  His name on her lips sounded incredibly right... despite the fact that his brother stood by her side.

  “Good night.” She ducked her head, brushing past him without another glance.

  The vanilla scent he’d noticed earlier wrapped around him like a warm friend. “See you.”

  While Peter walked Carly to the door, Mike flipped channels on the television with the remote control. Their muffled voices and Carly’s soft laugh drifted inside, commanding his attention. He swore and raised the volume a notch higher. Whether or not Peter kissed Carly was none of his concern. What those full lips would feel like was also none of his business.

  With a guttural curse he’d picked up abroad, Mike shut the television, rose and headed into the guest room. Better to face his nightmares than to eavesdrop on the two lovers saying good night.

  TWO

  Mike glanced around in disbelief. The tuxedo store couldn’t possibly hold more than five people comfortably. Yet there had to be at least fifteen customers vying for the attention of two harassed salesmen. “I don’t believe this,” he muttered.

  “I do.”

  Mike stood in the crowded store, too close to Carly, surrounded by her tantalizing scent. Whoever coined the term best man hadn’t had him in mind. At this rate, his goal of getting in and out looked bleak. And though he’d enjoy a morning in her company, he didn’t need the temptation. His brother wouldn’t appreciate Mike’s interest in his future wife.

  “Looks like everyone wants to be a June bride,” he said.

  She rolled her eyes. “Did you get a good look around you? The girls can’t be out of their teens and half of these guys have barely begun to shave. This is prom season, too.” Folding her hands in her lap,
she took a seat in a vacant chair in the corner.

  Mike leaned against the wall beside her. “Since Peter’s meeting us and he’s typically late, I guess we’ll have to wait anyway.”

  “True.”

  “Would you really have pulled rank on him?” Mike asked, seeking to understand this unlikely twosome. He knew that only a threat to Peter’s career would keep his single-minded brother from getting lost in work and forgetting an appointment. Even for his own wedding.

  “We’ll never know, will we?” She sighed and glanced at her watch.

  “He isn’t late yet.”

  “I never said he was. I’m the one on a tight schedule today.”

  “Business or pleasure?”

  “Both. I’ve got a late-afternoon deadline for my column and a four o’clock meeting.”

  “Pete mentioned something about an advice column and some kind of counseling.” Mike glanced in Carly’s direction, more than a little curious about the many facets of Carly Wexler.

  “Mmm. I write a magazine column for teens and I’m also a high-school guidance counselor.”

  “Social worker?” he asked.

  “Psychologist.”

  “Sounds like you’re busy.”

  She shrugged. “It’s seasonal. The fall is pretty hectic, but the summers are my own.”

  “A job with perks. I like that.”

  “Considering you’re a world traveler, I don’t doubt it,” she said with a grin.

  From across the room a loud burst of male laughter was followed by distinctly feminine giggles. “What sort of advice do you give these kids?” Mike gestured in the direction of the carefree teens.

  When was the last time he’d been that carefree? he wondered and immediately realized the incongruity of the question. He went out of his way to keep his life unencumbered by ties or commitments, yet lately he felt more burdened than ever before.

  “They write in asking about how to deal with life. Friendship in some cases, love in others.”

  “And you answer with the voice of experience?”

  “Hardly.” She blushed a becoming shade of pink.

  More like the voice of inexperience? Suddenly he wondered—about Carly, Pete, Carly and Pete— about a lot more than he had a right to know.