At least, she thought looking at him, she hoped he was falling in love with her. She knew she already was in love with this new man, the one who was a little kinder, a little more sensitive, a little more vulnerable than the Brady who had once existed in his space.
She held the tuxedo up to him again. “Now stop looking at this as if it were a cobra and put it on. We have to hurry,” she urged. She looked at the digital clock on his nightstand. “We’re due at the wedding in less than an hour.”
Pushing the tuxedo into his hands, she hurriedly left the room.
He sighed and laid the suit out on his bed again. The woman was a mystery, he mused. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d probably felt the same way about her before he’d been robbed of his memory.
“Do you attend all your clients’ weddings?” he called out as he removed the hanger from the jacket.
Erin stuck her head in again. At this rate, she would never be ready. “No. But they’re special. I met Marlene and Nicole at my doctor’s office. They both just had babies,” she added as a coda.
That seemed a little backward to him. “And they’re getting married today?”
She knew how that must have sounded, but she’d been privy to both women’s stories. She couldn’t be happier at the outcome.
“It’s rather an involved story,” she assured him. Erin expected that to be the end of it.
Brady took out the shirt she had hung in the middle of his closet. Too much starch, he thought as he slipped it on.
“Really?” He raised his voice in case she couldn’t hear him. “Well, maybe you can tell it to me on the way to the wedding.”
Fingers flying as she put on her makeup, Erin abruptly paused. Brady didn’t like long stories unless they had scientific significance. He tended to tune her out when she went on about something, which, she supposed, was only fair inasmuch as when he began talking about work, she usually glazed over no matter how hard she tried to pay attention.
Erin smiled as she lay down her eye shadow wand. She liked this new quality of his much better.
“You’re on,” she called back. “Now hurry.”
Removing her robe, she quickly slipped on her undergarments. It was a struggle all the way. What had fit a month ago was now skintight. Just a little while longer, she promised herself, and she could start working her way down to all the clothes that were waiting for her in her closet.
Erin slid on her dress, a two-layered knee-length green number that tactfully hid just how large she had become. By Dr. Pollack’s calculations, delivery was still three weeks away. Valentine’s Day. She rather liked that, she mused. For the rest of her life, she was going to have her own personal valentine.
But in the meantime, she felt like a balloon.
The long sleeves fit more snugly than she was happy about. They also hindered her agility, already limited by her size. She could only pull up the zipper so far despite her contortions. It insisted on hiding somewhere between the small of her back and her shoulder blades.
If she tried any harder to get it, she was going to dislocate her shoulder, Erin thought in annoyance. She gave up. With a sigh, she marched down the small hallway to Brady’s room.
The door was closed. She tapped on it lightly. “Are you decent?”
“That depends on if you’re making a moral judgment or a physical one.”
He sounded somewhat exasperated. Now what? Erin rephrased her question, “Are your clothes on?” A breeze from the open window in the living room traveled up her back, making her shiver. She had to remember to close it before they left.
“That also depends.”
This time, it sounded as if he was answering with his teeth clenched. Curious and more than a little anxious to get going, Erin gave up being polite. It took approximately half an hour to drive from here to Marlene’s Newport Beach home, and they were swiftly running out of time.
“I’m coming in,” she announced, turning the knob. “Now, can you—” Erin momentarily forgot about her dress as his reflection bounced back at her from the wardrobe mirror. God, he was handsome. He was also annoyed. “What are you doing?”
Brady’s tie hung from his neck like two black, rumpled streamers that had outlived their usefulness. He was about ready to toss the tie into the wastebasket. “Are you sure I’ve worn this before?”
“You always had trouble with your tie.” “Always” comprised the one time she had managed to talk him into wearing a tuxedo for her friend’s New Year’s Eve party a year ago, but he didn’t have to know that. With skilled fingers, Erin began to form a bow tie out of the mangled ends. “Don’t worry about it. Men aren’t very good at this sort of thing.”
That sounded like a typical female thing to say, he thought. But the thought came fondly. He watched her fingers in the reflection. Damned if she didn’t do it. “If they’re not very good at it, why do they bother wearing one?”
“That’s easy. To give the women in their lives a reason to feel superior.” Patting the bow tie, Erin stepped back to survey her work. “There. You’re gorgeous.”
“No,” he contradicted, his eyes sweeping over her. “You are.” He saw her exposed back in the mirror. “But aren’t you just a little drafty?”
Wise guy. “That’s why I came in.” Erin turned and presented her back to him, waiting. “I need you to zip me up.”
It was a very nice back, he decided, the kind that tempted a man to run his fingers along it. Had he? Had he done it often? Or had he been too busy, the way she seemed to imply?
He realized that she was still waiting. Taking the two ends of the material, he maneuvered the zipper up to the top. “What would you do if I wasn’t here?”
“Wear something else.” Erin turned, adjusting her dress so that it fell more smoothly along the outline of her hips. “I can’t exactly go knocking from door to door, hoping someone will zip me up.”
“Why not?” He grinned, his eyes meeting hers. “It’s a lovely back.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “But it’s not exactly meant for show-and-tell.”
Her mouth quirked in a smile, but there was something he couldn’t quite read in her eyes. Had he inadvertently said something wrong? “You’re looking at me funny.”
Erin shook her head. “Not funny, just appreciatively.” Because he’d never been quick to give her compliments. She’d always read things into his words before. Now he was saying them and she enjoyed the transformation immensely.
She stepped back and looked him over one last time. There was no doubt about it, the man was a heart stopper. “You look good enough to stand on top of a cake.”
He supposed that was meant as a compliment. He felt like something that would be found on top of a wedding cake. Brady looked himself over critically in the mirror. He looked all right, he supposed, but he would have been a lot happier in jeans and a T-shirt.
“I don’t feel very comfortable.” He moved his shoulders restlessly beneath the confining jacket.
Erin took his hand, leading him out of the bedroom. “You’re not supposed to,” she told him cheerfully. “It’s a wedding. All men feel uncomfortable at a wedding.” Her purse was on the hall table. She grabbed it as she passed. “I think it has to do with commiserating with the groom.”
He took her word for it.
“They don’t look very unhappy to me.” Brady leaned forward and whispered the words to Erin just as they were shown to their seats by an usher. “They don’t look unhappy at all.”
He glanced toward the front of the large living room. Sullivan Travis and Dennis Lincoln stood side by side to the left of the minister, nervously waiting for the women they loved to walk down the aisle and permanently into their lives.
On the far right sat a small, thin gray-haired woman surrounded on three sides by bassinets, all gaily decorated with pink and blue streamers. It certainly was a family affair, Brady thought.
Erin took her seat, then waited until Brady was next to her. She inclined her head
toward his. “What?”
He nodded toward the grooms. “You said I was supposed to commiserate with them. Looks to me as if they’re pleased as all hell.”
Erin looked at the two men. She recognized each from the glowing descriptions Marlene and Nicole had given her. A trace of envy wafted through her.
“Yes,” she agreed softly. “They do.”
Brady heard the wistfulness in her voice and looked at her thoughtfully.
The eternally familiar strains of “Here Comes the Bride” suddenly filled the air. From her place on the aisle, Erin had a good view of both Marlene and Nicole as they descended the stairs. It was hard to say which woman was more radiant.
At the foot of the stairs, they were joined by an attractive older woman dressed in Wedgwood blue chiffon. Her resemblance to Marlene was unmistakable. Even at this distance, Erin could see that she was blinking back tears. Beaming, the woman linked an arm with each bride and together they walked slowly down the long white satin runner to meet the minister.
“Who’s that?” Brady asked, whispering the question into Erin’s ear.
His breath tickled her skin. She shivered as the warm sensation wound all through her body. That hadn’t changed any, either, she thought with satisfaction. Brady was still the only man who could set her on fire with just the slightest touch.
“That’s their mother, Laura Bailey.”
“Oh.” On the way over Erin had explained all about the woman’s recent reappearance after a twenty-year absence, knitting it into a story that was filled with misunderstandings, Justice Department investigations and a manipulative father who had made everyone’s life a living hell while he’d been alive. It seemed to Brady that the Bailey women were way overdue for some happiness.
And by their expressions, he judged that they were well on their way to achieving that goal.
Erin looked over her shoulder at Brady. He was watching the ceremony thoughtfully, a hint of a smile on his lips. He looked, she thought, as if he was enjoying himself. The thought warmed her.
She couldn’t tell which sister looked more beautiful. Marlene, tall, willowy and blond, was wearing a traditional floor-length bridal gown with a long veil that trailed after her. There was an incredible amount of appliqué on the bodice, and it ran the complete length of the veil. Erin wondered how Marlene had managed to get such an elaborate gown in such a short amount of time.
Nicole, shorter, with dark hair, wore a knee-length, long-sleeved white dress. The back was completely scooped out, showing off her bare skin.
Both women looked breathtaking.
The ceremony was relatively brief, but nonetheless moving. Both couples had written their own vows. The words were simple, the sentiment eternal.
Erin felt her eyes moistening. She couldn’t help wishing that she was the one standing there, waiting for Brady to slip the ring onto her finger.
It’ll happen, she promised herself. Someday, it’ll happen.
As they rose to applaud the newly joined couples, Erin felt Brady’s hands on her shoulders. He squeezed them lightly, mutely communicating his support. It was as if he knew what she was thinking.
But he couldn’t possibly, she told herself. Brady had never been that intuitive. At least, she thought, turning to look at him, the old Brady hadn’t been.
The reception was held at the house in a room that Erin could only speculate had been designed with huge celebrations in mind. No expense had been spared. Erin liked to think that her flowers, strategically positioned throughout the room, helped add to the mood.
There was a small orchestra playing on the side. People were dancing to the music, or sampling the various dishes from the long buffet table. Marlene confided to Erin that she’d been so impressed with the food at Dr. Pollack’s uncle’s restaurant where they’d attended a Christmas party that she had asked him to cater the wedding.
Erin looked around the room and saw several of the women she had become acquainted with in the doctor’s waiting room. Dr. Pollack was there, standing off to one side, having a conversation with Marlene and Nicole’s mother.
The doctor, Erin realized in surprise, was pregnant.
“I guess she got into the spirit of things,” she murmured to Brady.
He handed her a glass of punch and took one for himself. “Who did?” He looked around to see who Erin was talking about.
“My doctor. She’s standing over by the fireplace, talking to Marlene’s mother. She’s pregnant,” Erin added incredulously.
Brady turned to look at the woman Erin had described. His eyes settled on a regal-looking blonde who most definitely had the rosy glow of upcoming motherhood about her.
“Must be something in the water,” he quipped, taking a sip of the punch.
“Erin, Nicole just told me.” Like a gust of warm summer wind, a bubbly auburn-haired woman swept over to them, squeezing Erin’s arm.
Brady noted that like Erin and several of the other women at the wedding, she was pregnant. He began to wonder if it really was something in the water.
Mallory looked from Erin to Brady. “You look exactly the way she described you.”
Brady laughed, amused. “Well, that’s good. And you are?”
“Completely without any manners,” she concluded. Inclining her head, she put out her hand. “I’m Mallory Flannigan.” The handshake was firm and with feeling. She looked as if she was really glad to learn of his return. “Erin’s had a really tough time without you,” she confided to Brady.
It hadn’t been anything Erin said so much as how she had said it. In her heart, Mallory empathized. Except that in her case, she knew there would be no happy resolution. But this was no time to dwell on that. A wedding was no place for dark, sad feelings, especially not in the face of a reunion.
Mallory turned to look at Erin standing at her side. “This is the first time I’ve seen her smiling since I met her.”
Brady looked at Erin. He found it difficult to imagine her without a smile on her face. She was far too exuberant.
Someone called Mallory’s name. She quickly swung around, homing in on the source. Delighted, she turned toward Erin and Brady again.
“Oops, I’ve got to go. I think I may have interested Nicole and Dennis in a cute little fixer-upper not too far from here.” She winked at Erin. “Wish me luck.”
The next moment, she was gone.
Like a streak of lightning, Erin thought fondly. “Mallory sells houses,” she explained to Brady.
“I kind of figured that one out on my own.” His mouth curved in an amused smile.
Behind them, the orchestra began to play a soft, dreamy tune. On impulse, Brady took the glass of punch from her hand and placed it beside his on the table.
He put his hand out to her. “Care to dance?”
Her fingers curled around his. The question surprised her. She was about to tell him that he didn’t dance, but refrained. Instead, she asked, “Can you?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. He took her into his arms. “Let’s find out.”
It was as good an excuse as any to be in his arms, she thought. And right now, she wanted to be. Very much.
As the music surrounded them, Erin let herself drift with it. He danced very well, she observed. She wondered if he had always known how and had resisted, or if someone had taught him during his four-month absence. She thought of Demi.
Erin looked into his eyes, unable to remain silent any longer. “You don’t like to dance, you know.”
Brady shrugged. He had no recollection of what he might have told her. All he knew was that this felt right, swaying with her in his arms. And he seemed instinctively to know what to do.
“Maybe I just said that. This feels nice.” He looked into her eyes. “Very nice.”
“No argument here.” He tucked her hand within his, holding it to his chest. Erin leaned her cheek against his chest. She could feel his heart beating.
It didn’t get any better than this, she decided.
His voice seemed to drift into her consciousness. “Hmm?”
He’d been thinking about them a great deal in the last week, trying his best to remember. He needed more information. “Were we happy?”
Erin raised her head, caught off guard by the question. “Yes, why do you ask?”
It was hard to put into words. He had a feeling that words weren’t his medium. “I just wanted to know.” He paused for a second, mentally stumbling. “It’s just so hard, not remembering. Wanting to.”
He was trying to reach out to her over a chasm, and as yet, their fingers hadn’t managed to touch. She understood. “Don’t force it. It’ll come.”
But what if it never did? he wondered. He had to make a life for himself now, not wait until he could remember. “If we were happy, why didn’t we ever get married?”
That was a very good question. One that she had asked herself over and over again in the dead of night. She gave him the excuse she’d given herself. “You never got around to it. You were always so busy with work, you couldn’t find the time.”
He shook his head. Just how backward had he been? “That doesn’t seem right.”
“You had your reasons.” It was a strange discussion to be having. She was defending his actions against his criticism. Normally, she would have found herself on the other side of the debate.
Whatever his reasons had been, they weren’t good enough now. As he held her, he could feel the baby kick against him. His baby, he thought. It was time to stop searching for himself and live up to his responsibilities, even if he couldn’t remember the way they had been arrived at.
“Let’s do it.”
He’d lost her. They were already dancing. What was he referring to? “Do what?”
“Let’s get married.”
7
Her throat was completely dry. For a moment, the entire roomful of people, food and music faded, leaving her alone in a darkened room with just Brady. Erin had dreamed about hearing those three words from him for so long. But the timing was all wrong now.
The 7 Lb., 2 Oz. Valentine Page 8