by Layla Hagen
"I won't let that spoil Amber and Matt's day. Promise. Can I tempt you with some wine?"
"No, I'll head out in a few minutes."
"You can come back after you give them your car keys. We'll enjoy a glass or two of wine, and then I can drive you into the city."
"No can do. I promised my son we'll make it in time for his evening TV show."
Graham went very still. I realized it was the first time I'd mentioned Milo. I braced myself for the flicker of interest in his eyes to disappear. I hadn't planned to act on it, but it had been very flattering.
"I didn't know you had a son," he said eventually in a cool, calm tone. He looked down at my hands then back up. His jaw ticked. What was going on? "Is he with your boyfriend now?"
"No boyfriend," I clarified. "Just the two of us."
"His dad isn't in the picture at all?"
I shrugged. "We're better off without him."
"Still, I can imagine it's not easy."
I shrugged again. "The worthwhile things never are."
"How old is he?"
"Seven. And I promised him I'd watch his favorite show with him tonight, so I have to go."
"There is plenty of pasta left. Want me to pack some for him?"
Something funny happened to my insides. They seemed to melt altogether.
"Thanks, but he's at Valentina's house, and he ate there." Since I didn’t know how late I’d be staying out with Amber and Matt, I’d asked Will to pick up my son from school, and they’d joined Val for dinner.
"Ah, I see. The second best chef."
I pointed a finger at him. "Hey! I said your pasta was better than hers. That's it. Don't go drawing hasty conclusions."
The corners of his lips twitched, then gave way to a grin. "I'll walk you out."
"Thank you for dinner."
"Thank you for keeping me company."
We walked to my car side by side. A sizzle rushed through me, tightening my nipples. My body hadn't felt so alive in years, and he wasn't even touching me. I dealt with the tow service quickly, then hopped into an Uber. This evening had been fun. A little intense too, but a whole lot of fun.
I wondered if Graham cooked for women often. I bet there was no shortage of candidates banging at his door.
***
When I arrived at Val's house, Will was still there. He and Milo were throwing darts at a target my sister had set up in one corner of her living room.
"Mommy, please, can Uncle Will and I finish this round?" Milo asked.
"What about your show?" I countered, ruffling his hair. It was on Netflix, so we could stream it anytime.
"We can watch tomorrow."
"Okay, finish your game."
I left the boys to their dart game and sat on the couch next to my sister.
“Why did you come with an Uber?” Val asked.
“My car wouldn’t start, so I had it towed away.”
"Wine?" She pointed to the glass she was nursing.
"Yes, please. I'll get myself a glass." I wasn't driving, so why not? I took a glass out of her cabinet and sank on the couch again once Val had poured some wine.
"Will looks a bit down," she said.
"My thoughts exactly."
As a little girl, I'd dreamed my brother would become an actor. He certainly was handsome enough, but then again, all my brothers could pass as movie stars without a problem, and I wasn't saying this because I was related to them. No, sir. I had photos with the family everywhere in my office, and more than a fair share of bridesmaids—and even the occasional bride—had sighed at the sight of my brothers.
But Will had never had Hollywood dreams. Still, he hadn't seemed like the type to join the force. In fact, he'd had a few run-ins with the police as a teenager, after our parents passed away. Despite his adventures, he'd also been a responsible older brother. He'd fit the devastatingly handsome but troubled bad boy profile. Now, the devastatingly handsome part still held true, but he'd grown from a bad boy into a badass man with a dangerous job.
We'd learned not to ask, because he wasn't allowed to speak about his work, but we'd also learned to read clues into his body language. A frown was easy to erase. We could count on a little old-fashioned sibling teasing to do the trick. A scowl required a bit more creativity. Hunched shoulders meant shit had hit the fan. We hadn't yet discovered how to take his mind off that, but we weren't giving up.
Currently, Will's expression was somewhere between a scowl and a frown.
"What do you think? Teasing will be enough?" I asked, sipping wine.
Val nodded excitedly. "If we team up? Of course."
We waited for the boys to finish their dart game. When Milo went to the bathroom, Will joined us on the couch, sitting between the two of us. Val and I exchanged a glance.
"I know that look," Will said.
Damn. My brother could smell a Connor Secret Intervention from a mile away.
"What look?" I asked innocently.
"You know I can't talk about work, so don't ask."
Val shook her head mockingly. "After all these years, he still hopes the badge might start working on us. You can't boss us around, brother."
"Watch me try," Will said. He was trying to sound firm, but I could hear the tinge of humor.
"I think he likes to fail," I teased.
"Girls, it's been a shitty day; that's all. No need for an ambush."
Val brought her hands to her chest theatrically. "Ouch. This is an intervention. I'm wounded that you can't tell the difference."
"Yeah. An ambush requires Hailey's presence too," I informed him.
Our brother burst out laughing. Mission accomplished.
"Mommy, I'm ready to go," Milo said, returning to the living room.
"I'll drive you," Will offered.
"Thanks."
Milo fell asleep on the way home.
"Milo said Father/Son sports day is coming up at school. He asked me to go with him," Will whispered. My heart gave a little squeeze. He hadn't told me about it. "You okay with that?"
"Sure... if it's not inconvenient for you."
"Not at all. Besides, it's good for people to know he's got the handsome part from the Connor bloodline," he said with a straight face. My brother, always so humble.
"Thanks, Will. I appreciate it."
Will often participated at school events. Jace had been on a few occasions, but the presence of a soccer star caused such mayhem that the teachers pulled me to the side and asked if it was possible for Will to come instead. Most of the time, I thought Milo and I were doing okay on our own, but school events were rough. Sometimes he'd tell me about "manly stuff" his friends were doing with their fathers, and guilt flooded me. My brothers were quick to fill those shoes, but I wasn't sure it was enough. It ate away at me to know I couldn't give Milo more, but I didn't know how to do better.
Later that evening, after putting Milo to bed, I dashed across the bamboo flooring, closing the plantation shutters at the windows. It was a particularly windy evening. I owned a two-bedroom house complete with a white picket fence and an orange tree in the backyard. I'd snapped the property up when it was in foreclosure, so I paid a decent price. The area was safe but almost on the outskirt of LA. Still, it had good schools. The entire house had been rundown, but renovating it proved worthwhile.
The coved ceiling and wainscoting gave it an old-school vibe I loved. It was cozy. At the moment, it was also rather dusty, but I hated cleaning with a passion. A cleaning company came in once a week, but dust gathered in between. I'd gotten really good at ignoring it.
I had to wake up early tomorrow. Three times a week, I woke up at five to work out one hour on the elliptical. Twice a week, I ran with four other mothers from the neighborhood, whom I'd come to consider close friends. Now, running was something I loved. Filled me with energy. Hailey had once jokingly suggested I think about cleaning as working out, but the trick hadn't worked.
Instead of going to bed, I poured myself a glass of wine and pulled up the websit
e of the bridal shop Amber and I were going to visit. Their dresses were beautiful. I loved them all, no matter the shape or length. I'd dreamed about my own wedding dress since I'd tried on Mom's when I was six. I was still dreaming about it, but right now, the boy sleeping in the next room was my priority. I played one of my favorite romantic comedies in the background. I liked listening to music or hearing the dialogue from some of my beloved movies while working.
I was up so late I got hungry... which made me think about Graham. Again. My body felt like a livewire just remembering our evening. Despite the fact that my stomach rumbled, I resisted the urge to make a beeline for the kitchen. No more delicious goodies for me. I'd indulged enough tonight... with the pasta and the man cooking it.
I marked the designs they had in store in Amber's size and sent them to her. With the tight timeline, we couldn't order one for her. She had to make do with what the store had in their inventory, but I'd chosen this one because they had a large selection. I'd never had a disappointed bride, and I didn't plan to start now.
Chapter Five
Lori
On Tuesday, I arrived a full half hour before Amber at the bridal store. I'd scheduled the menu tasting and florist meeting right after the store visit, so every minute counted. Since I brought customers here regularly, I had something of a VIP status. I asked them to bring out the gowns Amber had indicated, and two she hadn't: a mermaid gown and a classic princess style. Some brides had a clear idea of the type of dress they wanted, only to discover it didn't suit them. I'd also had brides who claimed they didn't even want to try on a certain type of dress, only to end up buying exactly that one. That's why I insisted my brides at least look at all styles.
While the vendors steamed a couple of the dresses, I checked my e-mails on my iPad. One in particular caught my attention.
From: Jeff Finn
To: Lori Connor
Hey! I'm going to be in town in a couple of weeks. Let's go out for a drink.
I closed my eyes, drawing in a deep breath, then another one. It didn't help. The nerve of this jackass.
We'd both been in med school when I unexpectedly got pregnant. I'd dropped out and started the event-planning agency. Jeff was a doctor in Denver now, but he came to LA about once a year for conferences. He'd never, not once, expressed any interest in his son. Yet every time he was in town, he hit me up. He contacted me the first time around when Milo turned one. I'd hoped that meant he'd changed his mind, that he wanted to get to know his son. Turned out it was a booty call. I told him exactly where he could shove his call. Usually he was more explicit in his e-mails, as if I was at his beck and call. I knew my worth, damn it. His e-mails made me want to hurl every insult I knew at him, but I took the high road and ignored him.
I didn't use the address I had when we were together anymore, but my work e-mail was listed on my website. I deleted the message right away, but I was in a foul mood.
When Amber arrived, I tried my best to push the matter out of my mind. She was a dream client. She tried on every single dress, and I couldn't help ooooh-ing and awww-ing.
"They're all so pretty. How will I make up my mind?" Amber twirled in the mermaid gown. "Thanks for having them bring me this one too. I would never have asked for this style, and look how beautiful it is."
Honestly, accompanying my brides to buy their dresses was a mutually beneficial thing. I made sure everything ran smoothly and efficiently, but being among these beautiful dresses was a feast for my eyes.
"Why don't you put the ones you want in the narrower selection and then try them on again?" the sales clerk suggested.
As Amber pondered this, a buzzing sound came from her purse. She took out her phone.
"Graham's here early," she said. "Lori, can you bring him here in the back? He's outside the store."
"Okay. I'll go get him." He and Matt were supposed to meet us directly at the restaurant where we were having the tasting.
Graham was already inside the store when I reached the entrance. I searched for Matt out on the street through the glass front, but couldn't spot him.
"Hey, Graham. Is Matt early too? He can't come inside. He can't see Amber."
"Don't tell me you believe in those things," Graham challenged. The fire in his bright blue eyes riled me up. Why did he have to be infuriating while also looking sexier than anyone had the right to? Not checking him out took a concerted effort.
"What if I do?" I asked, chin held high.
"If a wedding falls apart, it's because one of them realizes they're making a mistake. Better before than after."
Had he known his was a mistake before?
"Doesn't hurt to stick to the rules," I countered. As a kid, I'd laugh at my father, an Irishman who'd emigrated to the US, when he recounted some of his grandmother's superstitions. I'd disregarded them as folklore and foolishness, but as an adult, I thought there might be deep-rooted psychological explanations for at least some of them. Maybe seeing the future bride in her dress caused the groom to have cold feet. I had no time to dig that deep, but I planned to err on the side of caution.
Graham shook his head, smiling. The fire in his gaze wasn't dimming, though, and my heart rate was intensifying. It had to be because I was excited to see Amber's narrowed dress selection. Right?
"Matt's not here. I left the club early because it's on the other side of the city and I didn't want to risk a traffic jam. But he works four blocks away from the restaurant where we're having the tasting."
"Okay. Amber is in the back. She's already tried on quite a few dresses. Now she's narrowing down her selection and trying those on again."
Graham nodded, his face softening when Amber came into view, twirling in a brocade, princess-style dress. "You're beautiful, Amber."
"I don't know if I can dance with this one, though. It's so big."
Graham pulled Amber close, and they moved in tandem to the rhythm of an imaginary slow song. The man had moves. I wasn't much of a dancer myself, but I could appreciate the way he twirled Amber, the confident manner in which he led the dance.
During the impromptu dance performance, I couldn't resist the temptation of admiring him. Yep, the man was built like a Greek god, no questions asked. I had no idea if it was genetics, or long hours spent at the gym, but I suspected it was a mix of the two.
"It's not as bad as I thought," Amber said as they stopped dancing.
"If we take a few inches off the hem, it'll be even easier," I said.
"I'll try on the other ones too. It won't be easy to decide."
When Amber disappeared inside the changing room with the clerk who helped her in and out of the dresses, I sat on the ottoman that was placed strategically between the changing rooms.
I pulled out my iPad and e-mailed my cousin, Pippa Bennett-Callahan. The Bennetts were cousins from my mother's side, living in San Francisco. Out of the nine siblings, Pippa and four others were running Bennett Enterprises, a company designing and producing high-end jewelry, including wedding rings. While one could find their products everywhere, I often e-mailed Pippa directly. She was the designer and always had something special up her sleeve. When Amber had asked for wedding ring recommendations, I immediately pointed her to Bennett Enterprises.
I looked up briefly from my iPad and found Graham studying me. Energy coursed through me, hot and sizzling like a fireball. Even though sales clerks were running around and Amber was behind a curtain, I suddenly felt alone with him.
When he sat on the ottoman next to me, I thought I might combust from nothing more than his proximity. I could feel the heat radiating off him... and a healthy dose of masculinity too. We were so close that my breasts nearly touched his arm. Thankfully, Amber came out the next second wearing an ivory A-line dress with the skirt modified to fit closer to the body.
***
Graham
"I love it even more than the first time you tried it," Lori said, circling Amber.
"I love, love, love this one," Amber said. "Graham, wha
t do you say?"
I held up my hands. "Don't make me vote on fashion choices. You promised."
"Can you at least tell me if you like it?"
"You're beautiful. But you were beautiful in the other dress too."
"Are you going to say I'm beautiful no matter what dress I try on?"
"You bet."
"Well, okay. That's not much help. Lori, I'm counting on you."
Lori was clapping, her eyes crinkled at the corners from her gigantic smile. Her enthusiasm lit her up from inside, and she was magnificent to watch.
She sounded a little breathless when she said, "I think this is the one, Amber."
Amber twirled some more, and they talked about trimming and shoes. I tuned out after that, but I couldn't make myself look away from Lori. When Amber decided she was buying this dress, Lori hugged her. As she pulled back, she observed the dress longingly, and it hit me that Lori wanted that for herself.
Her son's deadbeat father had taken off, but she still believed in all... this. I knew many in LA who sold dreams they didn't believe in, but my gut feeling told me Lori wasn't one of them. She was honest; she was real. Of course, my gut feeling had been wrong before, but I was almost sure I was right about Lori.
Fuck, I should stop fantasizing about those full lips, about how perfect she'd feel underneath me. Or on top. What was it with me? The better question was, what was it about her that pulled me in? I felt caught up in her spell, and I didn't know how to break it.
Chapter Six
Graham
Amber and Lori talked about the dress right until we arrived at the restaurant where we were having the tasting. When Amber had e-mailed me to ask if I had time for the menu tasting, my first instinct was to reply that they should have it without me. I'd had enough trouble putting Lori out of my mind after our dinner. But eventually I said yes. I didn't want to be a jerk. If I was attracted to Lori that was my problem, not Amber's.
We were led to the back of the restaurant, in a small room with no patrons. Matt was waiting inside already, talking to a woman who introduced herself as Gigi, the florist. Flower arrangements covered every square inch of two tables. A third table was filled with plates. There were six tables total crammed in the small room. It struck me as odd that they were all different, until Lori said, "Let me know if you like any tablecloths we have here. If not, I have more in my car. I can bring them out and change them."