by Lizzie Shane
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘Close. I’m the wedding planner.’”
“And you knew it was your destiny to lift grape juice stains at wedding receptions?”
“Actually, I was disappointed at first. My parents’ marriage was more a business arrangement than a love affair, and the one wedding I’d been to was boring and slow. I didn’t see anything magical about the marriage business and I told her so.”
“I bet she loved that.”
“She gasped, making this big show of pretending I’d shocked her, and informed me that wedding planning was the single most magical profession in the world because she could make invisible things appear for just one day.”
“How does that work?” Josh asked, as skeptical as she had been at eight.
“She boosted me up onto a barstool, so I could see over the crowd to the dance floor and then she pointed to where the bride and groom were just stepping out to take their first dance. And then she said, ‘Do you see the love? Some days we feel the love. Sometimes we forget to even do that. But at a wedding, for one day, we can all see it if we look closely. Do you see it? The little glow around them? It’s hard to see, so you really have to want to, but if you do, the love will let you see it on a day like today. Weddings are magical like that. But love is shy. If people are cross about silly things, it doesn’t want to come out. So the wedding planner takes care of seating charts and floral arrangements and grape juice stains, so the bride and groom can focus on each other and letting us all see the love. And that’s the magic. Do you see it?’ And I did. I saw love. The bride and groom radiated it. Their families glowed with it. And I fell in love with it.”
“No wonder they picked you for Marrying Mister Perfect if you told them that story. Did you become the wedding planner’s protégé?”
“Actually, I never saw her again. I never even knew her name. My mother found me then and dragged me back to our table, but from that day on I was hooked. My mother never understood where my sudden romanticism came from. Both of my parents were baffled when I wanted to become a wedding planner, but from my very first wedding I knew I was doing exactly what I needed to be doing with my life.”
“That must be nice.” A slight frown pulled at Josh’s lips, but before she could press him the GPS binged and they turned into the long winding driveway down to the Paradise Beachfront Resort. “Here we are,” he announced unnecessarily. “Paradise.”
Chapter Twenty
Sidney had called the Paradise Resort heaven and if this was what heaven looked like, he might have to make more of an effort to get in.
The lush grounds of Eden’s premiere resort sprawled over a hillside before descending down to a white sand lagoon where the water was tranquil—and the exact shade of Sidney’s improbable eyes.
The resort’s main building was angled to give the maximum number of rooms the breathtaking ocean and lagoon views. A five star restaurant looked out over the water from the north wing, but Sidney guided him to the south wing, where a private patio had been set for an event later in the day.
The sprawling stone patio was like something out of a magazine—or a set for Marrying Mister Perfect—with a raised area for the band and an awning that could roll out to cover the entire expanse in the case of rare southern California rainfall. Two paths led away from the patio—one up a slight incline to the chapel overlooking the surf while the other wended down toward the secluded lagoon beach, perfect for weddings in the sand without the noise of the crashing waves of the Pacific.
Josh hesitated when he saw the spread laid out on the patio. “We should have called for an appointment.”
Sidney glanced at him over her shoulder, already skirting the patio and heading toward the lagoon path. “I’ve done half a dozen weddings here. The events planner knows me. He won’t mind. Come on.”
Josh trailed after her, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his khakis as he tried not to notice the way her skirt twisted around her tanned legs in the breeze. At the lagoon she turned back to face him.
“This is exactly what Caitlyn described. But it’s also impossible. People plan years in advance for the Paradise.”
“We should get the names of the people getting married over Memorial Day weekend and have the show bribe them to move their dates,” he said, only half joking.
Sidney rolled her eyes. “Wedding karma, Josh.”
“How is it bad karma if we give them a stack of cash to start their new lives together? We wouldn’t force them to switch. We’d just make an offer.”
“An offer they can’t refuse?”
Josh snorted. “We aren’t the mafia. We’re reality television.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Does that make me Marlon Brando?”
“Dream on. Miranda is the Don. Or she was.”
“Too bad we can’t get her to strong arm the events planner into giving us the names.”
“No one is strong arming anyone.” She pursed her lips—and he realized he was only pushing the point because she was so adorably determined to push back against him.
“Come on. Does it hurt to ask? Maybe the couple are secretly hoping for an excuse to change their wedding date.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself. We don’t even know if Caitlyn is going to like this place.”
*
Of course Caitlyn loved it.
“This. This is what I want. Are you sure it’s booked?”
“Positive.” She’d already put their names on the waiting list, but she wasn’t holding out much hope.
“We’ll just look around for fun then,” Caitlyn said, grabbing Will’s hand and pulling him down the lagoon path.
Sidney could almost hate Josh for insisting they show her something Sidney couldn’t deliver. She would just have to make sure whatever she found was even more perfect.
No pressure.
Caitlyn and Will walked ahead, completely wrapped up in one another as Sidney trailed behind with Josh. This was their last stop of the day and the sun was just dipping beneath the horizon, casting its last pink light over the water.
The rest of the day’s appointments had gone miraculously well—which was the only reason they’d had time to swing by the Paradise for a peek. Florists, cakes, place-settings, stationary—Caitlyn and Will had proved to be that rare decisive couple who had no trouble making choices quickly. Though perhaps that had something to do with Josh. He was, Sidney was forced to admit, incredibly good at guiding people toward decisions without pushing them or railroading them into accepting something they didn’t want.
No wonder he was so good as host of MMP.
He’d filmed Caitlyn and Will at several of their stops with a little hand-held camera, but thankfully there hadn’t been a full camera crew following them around all day. Next week for wedding dress shopping, a full crew would be on hand, but this weekend they wouldn’t have gotten anything done if they had to keep waiting for lighting set-ups to be perfect. Instead, Josh and Sidney would return later to each of the locations and add in the necessary exposition, with adorable shots of Caitlyn and Will feeding one another cake samples spliced in around the edges.
He was a good producer too, she realized partway through the day, seeming to have a natural feel for what shots they would eventually need when they put the show together. She hadn’t even felt self-conscious when he turned the camera her way. He could put anyone at ease.
And he had an incredible eye for detail and romance—even if he was a bred-to-the-bone cynic.
Josh walked beside her now, hands thrust into pockets, his eyes on the couple ahead of them as Will caught Caitlyn and lifted her off the sand for a kiss.
“You think they’re going to go the distance?”
“Caitlyn and Will? Absolutely.”
She’d only met Will that morning, but from the first second she’d had that feeling of certainty, that hunch. Caitlyn lit up around him, and he looked at her like she’d hung the moon. He
was only interested in the wedding stuff because it was important to Caitlyn, but he never once complained.
Caitlyn’s mother had decided not to come on this trip—choosing instead to fly out the following week with just Caitlyn for a full weekend of dress shopping—so it was just the lovebirds Josh and Sidney had been taking on a whirlwind planning expedition.
She tried not to focus on how much the day had felt like a double date.
She and Josh had spent three days this week looking at alternative venues and though each day had been a failure, she’d had fun with him. He was grumpy and cynical, but beneath it all lurked the soul of a sappy romantic. He may have been burned, but he still smiled at Caitlyn and Will’s antics, even if it was in spite of himself.
“Did you mean it when you said you always believe your couples are going to make it?”
“I want to.” But honesty forced her to admit, “Though sometimes there are signs. You can sort of read a wedding like tea leaves and see that some couples are going to have a rougher road in front of them.”
“I wonder what you would have seen if you’d read my wedding.” He looked out over the water, where the sun had now completely disappeared. “It’s easy to get paranoid when you’re blindsided by your life falling apart, to think that everyone saw it coming but you. You know how you were talking the other day about that wedding planner? About seeing the love? There used to be these moments on the show—when I saw Jack with Lou or when Marcy met Craig—when I felt like I was privileged. I was being allowed to watch something amazing happen. But this season was different and I don’t know if it was Daniel, or you, or me. I just don’t know if I believe in the show anymore. I’ve been clinging to it because it’s the last thing left of the life I always thought I wanted, but I’m not even sure I like who I am now. But if I’m not the host of Marrying Mister Perfect, who am I?” Josh made a face. “Shit. I’m Divorce Guy, aren’t I? I’ve become that guy who can’t go for five seconds without whining about his failed marriage and his pathetic life.”
“It’s understandable.” And she didn’t mind. This was the Josh Pendleton she’d met the first night. The one who stopped trying to hold the entire world outside the walls of his hostly persona and dropped all his shields, becoming a cynical smart ass. She’d missed him.
“Yeah, but it isn’t who I want to be. I don’t want to be the guy who’s bitter about picnics because I proposed to my ex on one. I freaking loved picnics. Now it feels like I’m losing everything I used to love along with losing her.”
“So take picnics back.”
“Just like that?”
“Does it have to be more complicated than that? You’re not Divorce Guy. You’re Picnic Guy. So who else are you?”
*
Sidney’s question seemed to trail after him as they made their way back to her car and dropped Caitlyn and Will at their hotel. He’d left his convertible parked behind Once Upon a Bride, so it was just the two of them as she drove down Eden’s adorable Main Street.
Other people had told him to get over himself and get his life back, to fucking cheer up already, but somehow Sidney asking him who he was when he wasn’t Divorce Guy was different. It snuck through his layers of bitterness, past the stubborn part of him arguing that he didn’t deserve what had happened to him. It pierced his asinine insistence that he had the right to be miserable if he goddamn well wanted to be, and asked him what kind of an idiot wanted to be miserable when he could be something else. He could be Picnic Guy. Or Surfing Guy. Or Wine Tasting Guy.
He may not be able to get his dream life back, but that didn’t mean he had to be pathetic and wallow in it.
Hell, maybe he’d even be Dating Guy again sometime soon.
She pulled into the lot behind Once Upon a Bride, parking her small SUV in the space beside his Beamer and cutting the engine.
“You were a big help today,” she said in the comfortable cocoon of the silent car. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything. You’re the master. I just sat back and let you work.”
“You can pretend you didn’t do anything, but you’re good at this. At directing people through decisions. It’s part of what makes you such a great host. You help clarify things.”
“Funny, I feel like that’s what you do for me.” He shouldn’t have said it. He knew the second her face softened that it sent the wrong message—the message he seemed to keep sending her whenever he wasn’t on his guard. “Forget I said that.”
“It’s okay to be real with me. You don’t always have to be on around me.”
“I’m not.” That was the problem. He needed to keep his distance from her, but when she was looking at him the way she was right now—like she understood him and didn’t think he was half as pathetic as he really was—the normal filters didn’t apply. Somehow he could tell her all the things he didn’t want anyone else to know.
Like how lonely he was, how out of his control his life felt right now—but neither of those things applied when he was with her.
He needed walls between them, STAT. “Look, Sidney, you know I can’t date you. It would violate every morality clause in my contract if I’m caught getting too familiar with a Suitorette—even a former one. I’ll lose my job and my reputation will be shot.”
“No, of course I understand,” she said softly, but she didn’t withdraw behind a defensive wall as he’d hoped. Her eyes were still open and on him.
“I know I kissed you—”
“Technically, I think I kissed you.”
“Potato, potahto.” He waved away her clarification. “The point is I’d like it if we could just forget it ever happened.”
“Then why do you keep bringing it up?” Something dangerous seemed to lurk in the silence after she asked the question—something that said they both knew he was lying when he said he wanted to forget.
Shit. “I should get going.”
He climbed out of her car, fishing out his keys as he heard her door open.
“Josh.” She came around the hood, her attaché case slung over one shoulder. “Do you want to date me?”
He froze, his keys cold in his hand. “What?”
“You said you can’t, but if you could?” She stopped close to him, big blue eyes questioning in the low light of the lot. “Would you?”
He’d gotten in the habit of saying no to her. It was the only answer, so he didn’t think about what ifs and might have beens. He didn’t consider liking her because reciprocating any feelings she might have had for him was out of the question.
But when she was looking at him like that, all vulnerable and hopeful, he couldn’t lie.
And he couldn’t resist.
Chapter Twenty-One
Just like the first time, he didn’t form any conscious decision to kiss her. It wasn’t intentional so much as inevitable.
Somehow he was just kissing her.
Her lips were sweet and soft, inviting him to angle his head and tease his way between them, a tentative flick of his tongue quickly segueing into a decadent exploration. Every movement was slow and steeped in sensuality, a lingering coaxing caress of his lips over hers, stoking the fire between them. It felt like this moment had been building for months, but he wouldn’t rush it. He couldn’t. The spell they were under demanded an unhurried discovery.
He wasn’t aware of lifting his hands, but one cupped the side of her neck, his fingertips tangling in the fine hairs at her nape, as the other slid around her waist, sneaking beneath her coat to tug her flush against him. When their bodies came into contact, she released a whisper of sound into his mouth—half gasp, half moan—and he groaned.
A crash sounded above their heads seconds before light poured out of the window in the apartment above them.
Sidney jerked back, the spell broken, and Josh stared at her wide teal eyes, trying to redirect some of the blood flow in his body back to his brain. Her eyes were filled with questions—and the only response Josh could think of was a low, muttered curse.
“This can’t happen.”
She leaned back, but his hands were still on her and she didn’t try to break his hold, her own braced loosely on his waist. “Are you still seeing Olga?”
The lie came to his lips faster than thought. “Yes.”
She did pull away then, casting her gaze down to the pavement. “I’m sorry. I should go.”
He let her get as far as the back door to her shop before her name burst out of him raggedly. “Sidney.”
She looked back at him, her hand on the knob, blond hair bright in the light filtering down from above.
“Are we still good?” he asked. “Still…?” He wouldn’t say friends.
Her smile held layers of sadness and understanding he couldn’t begin to comprehend. “Yeah. We’re good. G’night, Josh. Get some sleep. We have caterers tomorrow.”
He grinned, relieved. “How tiring can eating be?”
“You’d be surprised.” She gave him one last smile before disappearing inside and he leaned against his car, watching her go.
Sidney Dewitt.
Something about her just reeled him in.
He’d kissed Olga—in public, for the cameras—but he’d never kissed Olga. Even with Marissa, things had grown perfunctory—never claiming all of his attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d forgotten himself in a kiss like that, until all he was narrowed down to lips and lust.
Except he could. It was the last time he’d kissed Sidney.
“Shit.” Josh scrubbed a hand over his face and climbed into the convertible, firing it up, but not putting it into gear.
It had been instinctive to lie. To throw Olga between them like a human shield.