Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2)

by Seabrook, Sheila

  Dora’s frowning gaze swept over her. “I hope you’ll tuck in that shirt before you meet your lawyer.”

  Mandy laughed.

  Stephanie rolled her eyes at her sister. “He’s not my lawyer.”

  With a huff, Dora set her hands on her hips. “Don’t count him out before you meet him. A single lawyer.” She threw her hands up in the air. “For goodness sakes, child, you’re giving me grey hairs.”

  “Forget it, Mom.”

  “But a double wedding—my two girls—”

  Tom held up his hands. “Whoa. I’m not made of money.”

  Dora sent an apologetic glance toward her younger daughter. “Sorry, dear. You know I love Dane like a son but…” She held out her hands in supplication and turned back to Stephanie. “A lawyer, honey, for goodness sake, you’ll never do better than that unless you manage to snag a doctor…”

  Mandy crossed her arms over her chest. “I hope you don’t talk like this in front of Dane, Mom.”

  Stephanie tuned out her family, and with a backward wave, headed out of the beach house.

  Behind her, Dora called out, “Do you want me to come help you with the wedding? I’d love to help. You know I’m a natural event planner.”

  “No, you have enough to do to get ready for your birthday party.”

  “You’ll tuck in your shirt before you meet your lawyer, won’t you, honey?” And her mom always had to get in one last—last-last-last—word. “I never should have let you go with that woman. She totally ruined any chance I might have had to get you married.”

  That woman may have saved her from a lifetime of heartbreak.

  Without answering, Stephanie gave a final wave, and as she drove back onto Tranquility Drive, she swallowed back the nausea that seemed determined to make the next three days a challenge.

  And it wasn’t just the wedding that she was worried about.

  Stone Kincaid, the man who starred in her nighttime fantasies.

  The biggest mistake of her life.

  The biggest frog, too.

  She’d met him at her grandma’s Valentine Day wedding, all five star fire alarm sexy, and slept with him, then snuck out before he woke. And even though she’d left a fake business card with a fake telephone number, she’d been annoyed because he hadn’t internet stalked her and called.

  Then unable to shake him from her thoughts, she’d internet stalked him and discovered he was a hotshot lawyer all right, the worst kind of all.

  The kind that would send her mom into a bonafide tizzy.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Stephanie drove north along Tranquility Drive, taking in the beautiful shoreline and the white sandy beaches, enjoying her last opportunity for some peace and quiet…

  …because when she arrived at the Kincaid ocean front estate, chaos ruled everywhere. With only three days till the bride walked down the aisle, things were bound to get worse.

  Outside, gardeners mowed and pruned and weeded and pinched. Inside, cleaning staff raced around the massive beach house, polishing windows and silverware and everything in-between.

  And like frosting on a cake under the heat of the sun, the bride and her mother were in a state of meltdown, snipping and snapping and bickering over every little detail.

  The bride, CNN up-and-coming newscaster, Liz Kincaid, was in the process of butting heads with her mother, Grace Kincaid, star of the popular TV talk show Eternally Yours. And the two women were arguing about everything.

  From the type of cake—white or chocolate—to the color of the icing—cream with pale rose tints or a kaleidoscope of blue and green and yellow and blood red.

  From the location of the nuptials—outdoors on the Serendipity Island estate gorgeous gardens or in the middle of the Vegas strip—to the time of day—mid-afternoon or midnight.

  From the style of bridal attire—a princess gown for the bride and a black tuxedo for the groom, or Zombie outfits for them both.

  Stephanie kind of thought they were yanking her chain with the last one, but she couldn’t quite be certain.

  Somehow, someway, she had to pull this wedding together by Friday, all so it would coincide with the groom’s schedule.

  The bride’s fiancee, Roger Gordon of the rock band Crazy Heart, wanted to release the band’s fifth album and dedicate it to his bride to officially begin their life together. Sure, it was romantic and cute—and a really great publicity stunt for the band—but it had turned the young bride into a time bomb of nerves who at any given moment might detonate into tears.

  Her gaze settled on the bride’s sister.

  Mariam sat on the corner of the couch, staring at the far wall, wearing the saddest expression Stephanie had ever seen on anybody. She appeared lost and lonely, which could only mean one thing…some schmuck had broken her heart.

  Stephanie peered down at the little tyke hanging onto his mother’s knee.

  The kid was adorable, like most kids that age, but Stephanie didn’t like children of any age anymore than they liked her.

  He gurgled and blew spit bubbles, and entertained himself by pulling himself up to his feet, then plopping back down on the ground and landing softly on the padded diaper covering his tiny tush.

  She didn’t normally pay attention to the little ones in the room, but this little guy was so cute, she almost wanted to reach out and grab him into her arms. Occasionally he let go of the safety net of his mother’s knee, happily content to wave his arms in the air like a drunken frat boy, until his mother put one hand against his back to steady him.

  Even from this distance, Stephanie could smell the baby powder scent, and it made her insides squeeze tight with longing.

  Mariam stroked a gentle hand down his back. “Would you like to hold him?”

  “Oh God no,” she breathed out before she could catch the words back. Clapping a hand across her mouth, meeting the other woman’s curious gaze, she gave a self-conscious laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Kids and I…we don’t get along. I much prefer them when they turn sixteen and you can reason with them.”

  The other woman slashed a glance toward her mother and sister. “You mean like those two?”

  With a small smile, she shifted her focus toward the bride and mother-of-the-bride who were still arguing about the guest list and the flower arrangements and everything in-between.

  As she watched their conversation volley back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth some more, her stomach began to heave from the dizziness of it all.

  Pushing her hair out of her face, she attempted to ignore the queasiness in her stomach, and jumped back into the fray. “Ladies, the clock is ticking and we’re getting nowhere.”

  Grace Kincaid sat in the armchair across from her, back stiff, hands folded primly on her lap, and sniffed. “Well, I’m attempting to be as cooperative as possible but I have my limits. Zombie outfits and a Vegas wedding are so beneath us.”

  “Mother,” Liz growled from across the room where she paced and turned, paced and turned, and paced some more. “It’s not your wedding.”

  Grace let out a breath of air. “Thank God.”

  Stephanie sorted through the binders of wedding bouquets and wedding cakes and wedding decorations. “So compromise. Have a Zombie wedding at the estate or go to Vegas and get married in a traditional white gown.”

  Outside the large patio doors, the whooop, whooop, whooop of a helicopter sounded. And somewhere in the silence that suddenly filled the room, her heart went thunk.

  Liz fisted her hands in the air and gave a triumphant jump. “My reinforcements have arrived.”

  A horrified expression marred the mother-of-the-bride’s smooth complexion. “You didn’t.”

  “Mother, you’re not even supposed to be here till the weekend,” Liz growled before she skipped out of the house and loped across the lush green lawn.

  The mother-of-the-bride gave a disdainful and unladylike snort. “I don’t know why she thinks he’s going to support her decisio
n to marry. Stone is a divorce lawyer. Shameful occupation. Every time his name is in the newspaper, my ratings drop.”

  Stephanie had to agree with her hostess. The world would be a far better place without divorce lawyers, especially when said divorce lawyer was one of the hunkiest specimens of the male species she’d ever met.

  She tried to push away the memory of her night with Stone, but it slammed into her as it always did, with enough force it robbed the breath from her lungs and the stuffing from her legs.

  The attraction between them had been so hot and intense, they’d barely had time to exchanged first names, make their excuses to get out of Grandma Elvira’s wedding, before they were hotfooting it back to the city so they could get naked.

  Through the bank of windows overlooking the park-like estate, Stephanie watched him leave the helicopter pad and head toward his sister.

  Even from this distance, she recognized his broad shouldered build and loose limbed walk, and it turned her stomach in a decidedly more delicious fashion.

  This was going to be awkward. Why oh why hadn’t she found out more about him before she’d jumped into bed with him?

  Because the moment she’d spotted Stone Kincaid and his ultra naughty grin across the dance floor, her hormones had started to do the Mambo Jumbo, and the loneliness she always experienced at weddings made her want to feel a man’s arms around her, even if it was only for one night.

  Even if the man she lusted after was all kinds of wrong.

  Even if, after one amazing night, her traitorous body couldn’t forget how terribly right he’d been.

  Awkward and uncertain, she pushed back her hair, then did a quick check down her blouse and skirt, smoothing out wrinkles, checking buttons, and wondering why she even bothered.

  Because they were never ever—never ever—hopping into the sack together again, at least not while she worked for his sister.

  She smoothed another hand down her hip, reached around to check the pin holding the waistband of her skirt together, and caught a glimpse of herself in the enormous mirror over the fireplace.

  Having the flu sucked. It especially sucked when the sexiest man alive walked back into her life and caught her looking like something already dead.

  She smoothed out her expression and gave up on the idea of avoiding the man she’d had sex with, and instead focused on the sheer improbability of ever getting this wedding planned.

  It was her job, her responsibility, to ensure that the idea of Prince Charming and happily-ever-after lived forever in the hearts and the lives of the women who hired her services.

  Even if she no longer believed in happily-ever-after for herself.

  “Mrs. Kincaid,” she said as she refocused on the mother-of-the-bride. “Let me handle the details so you can relax and enjoy these special moments with your daughter.”

  Grace’s mouth puckered. “But a zombie wedding theme?”

  “I’ll see if I can get her to tone it down a touch, but trust me, the more you object, the more determined your daughter will be to have her way.” She recognized the disapproving lines around the other woman’s mouth and felt her confidence falter.

  “If it wasn’t for that musician, Liz would want a normal wedding.”

  Stephanie channeled her own mother, and reached out to touch the Eternally Yours hostess on the arm. Beneath her fingers, the other woman’s muscles tensed, and instead of relaxing, Grace only seemed to get…tighter.

  She dropped her hand to her side and softened her approach even further. “I understand your concern for your daughter. I’ve been on my own for years and yet my parents still worry about every decision I make.” She smiled a reassuring smile. “Liz is young, but she wouldn’t be where she is today if she wasn’t also smart. Marriage is hard, but you have to trust Liz and Roger to figure it out.”

  Before the older woman could reply, the swish of the screen doors whispered through the room and every thought but one vanished.

  He was here.

  Stephanie’s attention swiveled to Stone.

  As he walked out of the sunlight and into the room, his attention zeroed in on her. That something that had been there between them a month ago was still there. Heat flared in his gaze, instantly banked by…something cold and indifferent.

  And then Mariam shoved the baby into her arms. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

  Stephanie forgot all about the man who rocked her world and the topsy-turvy condition of her stomach. She caught hold of the toddler under his arms and held him as far away as possible, the inkling to shove the kid back at his mother and say no way overwhelming.

  She stared at the kid and he stared back at her. Breathless and near panic, she shoved the baby at his grandmother. “Mrs. Kincaid, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m not very good with small children.”

  Grace sidestepped the child. “I don’t want to get my dress covered with baby slobber.”

  And with one last look at the baby and his drool, the mother-of-the-bride abandoned her

  “Don’t judge me, kid,” Stephanie muttered as she silently swore that if Mariam didn’t get back soon and take the kid, she was going to drop him on the soft couch cushions behind her, and make a run for it. She might babysit brides and their grooms, but she drew the line at babysitting anything that resembled a kid.

  Instead, she stood there frozen, holding the kid at arm’s length. When his bottom lip began to tremble and his big blue eyes filled with crocodile tears, she felt another tug at her heart.

  Then the kid opened his mouth and wailed for his mother.

  Stephanie’s panic doubled and as she looked toward the kid’s mother for help, her gaze collided with Stone’s. She watched him break away from the circle of women and close the distance between them, his long strides purposeful, his gaze oblique.

  Between the panic of being responsible for something so tiny as the baby, and the fact that the man who starred in her nightly fantasies was approaching, she wanted to make a run for it.

  Stone stopped in front of her. As he rescued the baby from her, his attention dropped to the kid.

  “How’s my favorite nephew?” he asked as he planted a kiss on the suddenly no longer crying toddler’s cheek and tossed him into the air.

  As he caught him safely, Mariam joined him, her sharp gaze accessing Stephanie. “Sorry, I assumed you were exaggerating about not being good with children.”

  Stephanie took a step back, her gaze fixed on Stone and the toddler safely nestled in his arms. “I wasn’t.”

  “Jim Junior still plays strange sometimes.” With another accessing glance in her direction, Mariam took the toddler from her brother and settled him on her hip. “Is it nap time, my big boy?”

  Cooing gently to him, she walked away, only stopping to give Stone a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re home to control the craziness.”

  As Stone turned to Stephanie, she felt the pull toward him, like the first time she’d seen him at her grandma’s wedding, and resisted the urge to step into him.

  But then she inhaled the scent of him—some light tangy scent of aftershave—and the discomfort in her stomach eased. As he captured her hand in his, heat rushed through her fingertips, up her arm, and infused the rest of her body with desire. She caught back the urge to step forward into him and press her nose against his neck.

  “So a wedding planner, huh?”

  She forced a smile and a saucy tone. “At least my clients get a happily-ever-after.”

  “Even if it’s only temporary.”

  A woman in a bun and ugly glasses poked him in the ribs and nudged him aside, and the movement brought back the scent of baking. “Get a room, Boss.”

  Stephanie pulled her arm back and wiped her palm against her skirt, hoping to get rid of the feel of his skin against her own. Because it sizzled through her, all the way to her toes. And the last thing she needed in her life was a man to complicate things.

  The woman elbowed her way in between them, shoved an armload of bride m
agazines into Stone’s arms, and shook Stephanie’s hand. “I’m Wanda, the hired help. Feel free to ignore me. That’s what my boss does.” Through the thick lens of her glasses, Wanda gazed at her as though she were a bug under a microscope. “If you need any assistance with the wedding plans, please give me a shout. I’d be more than happy to help.”

  Before Stephanie could thank her, Wanda took the magazines out of Stone’s arms, and giving him a smirk, sat down and proceeded to look through the binders of photos on the coffee table.

  In an attempt to control her hormones and the topsy turvy condition of her stomach, Stephanie turned and met Grace’s inquisitive gaze. The narrow eyed woman looked from her son to Stephanie, then back again. A cold smile added to the brittleness of her personality. “Do you two know each other?”

  Sending him a sideways glance, she shrugged and channelled innocence. “We met when my grandma Elvira married his great uncle Morty.”

  His mother raised one brow, then seemed to discard whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she turned to face him directly. “Talk some sense into your sister. This zombie wedding is the most ridiculous idea she’s ever had.”

  On the other side, Liz grabbed his jacket sleeve and stamped her foot. “Don’t you dare. You promised to be on my side. You promised to get Mother off my back.”

  He glanced between his mother and sister, appearing calm and totally oblivious to their disagreement. The only giveaway was the tick in his jaw. “Where’s the groom, sis?”

  “I’m picking him up from the airport soon.” Liz’s annoyance turned to that sunny radiance that put a lump of dread in Stephanie’s stomach. “You’re going to love him, Stone. He’s so sweet and funny, and he’s written a song especially for me for the wedding. All of my girlfriends are so jealous.”

  Grace stepped forward. “I found the perfect gown at—”

  Liz’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Already arranged, Mother. The seamstress will be here tomorrow for the fitting.”