The right-left swing of her braid across her back indicated she was unimpressed with his compliment. “Right. I suppose next you’ll tell me you could pick my legs out of a lineup of women in short skirts.”
He followed her, falling easily into a well-remembered banter. “So, does this mean you will run away with me?”
“Where are you going?”
“Springfield.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “What a coincidence. That’s where I’m going...but, unfortunately, I have to drive my own car so I won’t be able to go with you.”
“You’re going to need a ride back.”
“I’ll hitchhike,” she said. “With my legs, it’ll be no trouble at all.”
“You’d better let me follow you to Granny’s and bring you home,” he said in a serious tone. “Because you’ll never get those pant legs rolled up in time to stop a car.”
“I’ll stop on the way in and buy a dress.”
“Mmm-hmm. Don’t kid a kidder, Eliot. I know better than anyone how much you hate to wear dresses. You’re just giving me a hard time, even though you know you’re going to help me shop for Tori’s wedding-day present.”
Ellie stopped just outside the last bay and turned toward him. “You’re going shopping?” she asked.
“I meant to get Tori’s gift before I left Chicago, but it slipped my mind.”
Her expression gave away nothing, but Ross knew what she was thinking and he wished he’d omitted the part about it having slipped his mind. “I need to check on the tuxedo rentals anyway, so I thought I’d just combine the two errands into one trip. Today. And I want you to go with me.”
Ellie stared at him, her eyes assessing the hidden meaning. “If you think I’m going to pick out a present for you to give to your bride-to-be, you can just forget about it right now.”
“I merely want the pleasure of your company,” he said with only a twinge of guilt. “And...maybe your opinion about the gift.”
“You don’t have the faintest idea what to get her or where to look for it, do you?”
He frowned, knowing it was pointless to deny his lack of creativity when it came to a gift for his bride. “You’re my best man, Ellie. It’s your duty to help me. Besides, if we’re both going to Springfield, we may as well have the pleasure of being with each other.”
Her frown softened and faded behind a slow smile. “You always did have a way with words, Kilgannon. But I expect you to buy me lunch, understand?”
“Anything you want.”
“I want to not go shopping.”
He loved the way she made just the word shopping sound so disgusting. “It will be good for you. Trust me.”
She eyed him consideringly from under the bill of her ball cap. “I want a frozen custard from Andy’s before we come back, too.”
“You drive a difficult bargain, El, but it’s a deal. Lunch and frozen custard. Now, give Chip instructions on what to do and what not to do while you’re gone. I’ll follow you in the BMW and wait for you at Granny’s.”
She hesitated, glancing absently at her left wrist. “One more thing, I’m not going to spend all day shopping. I have to be home by six-thirty. No excuses.”
“None will be offered, believe me.” He put his arm around her shoulders and they walked companionably into the back bay. “After all, I’m the prospective groom. I can’t miss my own surprise wedding shower tonight, now, can I?”
She frowned up at him. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”
He laughed. “I’m a Bachelor Falls native, remember? How could I not know about the shower when everyone, including you, has gone out of their way to make certain I’ll be in town at six-thirty?”
“Life in a small town,” Ellie said with a shake of her head. “Ain’t it grand?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “Ain’t it, though?”
Chapter Six
“How about this?” Ross held up a drab green T-shirt bearing the picture of a trout in a Revolutionary War uniform and stamped with the slogan War Of The Worms.
Ellie took it from him and dropped it with the other novelty shirts. “You are not going to find a wedding present for Tori in the Bass Pro Shop. Now quit stalling and let’s go someplace where there’s at least a remote possibility of locating an appropriate gift.”
“Tori loves the great outdoors. I think she might like one of these shirts.” He held up another—a navy with the same trout in bathing trunks and cap above the caption Swim With The Big Fish Or Stay Out Of The Stream! “This one’s a good color for her.”
“Even I wouldn’t wear that,” Ellie said. “You’re wasting time, Ross. Let’s go to the jewelry store and get this over with.”
“Jewelry is so obvious.” He took Ellie’s hand and steered her purposefully from the sportswear to the exercise equipment. “I want to get something she’ll always remember.”
“There’s remembering and then there’s remembering.” Ellie stopped in the middle of the aisle of the huge Bass Pro Shop and crossed her arms at her chest. “What you want, Ross, is for her to remember with genuine pleasure.”
Ross ignored her critical stance and checked the stats on a stair-stepping machine. He knew, of course, that it wasn’t an appropriate wedding gift, but he hadn’t been inside the sporting goods store in years and he wanted to look around. He also rather liked hearing that rising note of concern in Ellie’s voice, as if she wasn’t entirely sure he was teasing. It pleased him to think she couldn’t always read his mind. “If Tori gave me a rowing machine or a set of weights, I’d think it was a great wedding present.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” The note of concern vanished completely. “You’re a romantic at heart, Ross, so stop trying to make me think you’d actually buy your beloved an exercise bike and let’s go.”
“For your information, Tori is an avid exerciser.” He pretended intense interest in a rowing machine. “She’d love this.”
“If she’s besotted enough with you to accept a contraption like that as a wedding gift, then the two of you deserve each other. I’m going back upstairs to the restaurant. You’ll find me there with a cup of coffee when you’re through piddling around.”
“Wait.” He put his hand on her arm to stop her... and felt a startling backlash of response. He dropped his hand quickly, but the odd sensation didn’t go away.
“What?” she asked. “This is a big place, but I won’t be that far away. When you’re ready to leave testosterone city, just come and get me. Okay?”
“Sure.” He jammed his hand into his pants pocket and curled his fingers around the warmth in his still-tingling palm. “Go ahead. I won’t be long.”
She looked puzzled, but didn’t ask him what was wrong. For which he was grateful, because he didn’t have the faintest idea what had just happened. Or rather, he did have an idea... which was the problem. Watching Ellie walk toward the stairs and the restaurant three floors up, he took his hand from his pocket and then stared curiously at his palm. You’re getting married on Saturday. You’re tense. You’re stressed. You’re imagining things. He nodded, satisfied, and repeated the silent litany for good measure. You’re getting married on Saturday. You’re tense. You’re stressed. You’re imagining things.
That settled, he headed for the fishing tackle and the relatively safe fantasies of the fish that wouldn’t get away.
ELLIE CAME UP BESIDE HIM in the middle of Barnes & Noble. “You’re not buying that for her, either,” she said, tapping the spine of the Clancy novel in his hands.
“I have to have something to read on the honeymoon,” he said, allowing her to see the paperbacks he’d picked up as well. “And I’m getting these Iris House mysteries for Tori. Don’t you think she’ll like that?”
“Does she like mysteries?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, realizing he’d never seen Tori with a book of any kind. “She likes magazines.”
“Not exactly the same thing.”
He sorted through the three titles he’d chosen an
d looked hopefully at Ellie. “You like mysteries.”
“Yes, and I particularly like Hager’s Iris House series, but I’m not Tori and this isn’t my honeymoon.”
“So, what would you want to read if it were?”
Her smile was slow and sexy enough to knock the stuffing out of a lesser man. “Erotica,” she said. “Supposing, of course, that I wanted to read at all.” Turning, she meandered down the aisle, leaving Ross a bit weak in the knees.
“THANKS,” ELLIE SAID as she took the cone of frozen custard and scooted over so Ross could sit beside her on the curb. Andy’s Frozen Custard was a small operation, offering a great product in several different forms, but not many places to sit and lick. “What did you get?”
“Strawberry-banana. Want a lick?”
She leaned across him and her tongue made a clean swipe across his custard. Using the back of her hand, she blotted her lips. “Good,” she said and held out her cone. “Try mine.”
“I know what vanilla tastes like, Ellie.” They had this same exchange every time they came into Springfield, because they always stopped at Andy’s and she always got a vanilla cone. Always. “Wonder if I could get Tori a gift certificate for frozen custard as a wedding present?”
“Custard would pollute her arteries.”
His gaze cut to Ellie and she shrugged apologetically. “I’m only guessing, of course. Tori might really like Andy’s custard.”
“She wouldn’t touch it. You’re right.” He slid a spoonful of the rich treat into his mouth and wondered how he had fallen in love with a woman who wouldn’t taste frozen custard on a bet. “I guess we’ll hit the jewelry store right after we stop at the tuxedo rental place,” he said sadly.
She scooped a mouthful of custard onto her tongue, swallowed, and savored the moment by licking her lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I think an Andy’s gift certificate is an inspired idea. Just in case you were wondering what to get me for a best-man present.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He leaned forward to avoid a drip and settled in to enjoy the frozen custard, the sun-warmed curb and Ellie’s company.
IN THE DRESSING ROOM of Springfield Formal Wear, Ellie faced the mirror and her first experience with a tuxedo. The cummerbund drooped over her waist and needed to be tightened. The slacks hung loose and straight around her thighs, the crotch sagged, but the material was slightly snug around the hips. The pleated shirt puckered down the front instead of lying flat across her breasts and the bow tie needed to be about three inches shorter around her neck. The arms of the jacket hung nearly to her fingertips and there was no way she would ever be able to wear those shoes. This was a mistake, she thought. Why had she ever agreed to be Ross’s best man? As if it wasn’t going to be bad enough standing next to him while he vowed to love, honor and cherish a nitwit, now she’d have to do it knowing she looked like a tomboy next to Tori’s feminine bridal white.
With a frown, Ellie tugged the band from the end of her braid and pulled on the entwined strands until her hair rained about her shoulders in a heavy shower of dark waves. The tuxedo still looked odd and ill-fitting, and it was nowhere near as comfortable as her overalls, but at least she felt sure she wouldn’t be mistaken for Ross’s little brother.
“Let me see, please.” The tailor clapped his hands outside her cubicle and Ellie, reluctantly, parted the curtains and stepped out. Ross was standing a few feet away, looking heart-stoppingly handsome in white tie and tails that couldn’t possibly need much, if any, alteration. His eyes met hers in the triple mirror and he smiled, slowly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“I haven’t seen you wear your hair like that since the night of our junior prom.”
She wrinkled her nose at him...and the memory. “Oh, thanks for reminding me,” she said as the tailor, a Mr. Spleare, positioned her like a tree with arms outstretched and legs apart, while he tugged and tucked and pinned. “I hope I never have another night as embarrassing as that one.”
Ross laughed. “Promise me you won’t decide to give yourself a perm Friday night before the wedding?”
“It was a reverse perm, guaranteed to straighten even the curliest hair.” Her voice squeaked on the last word as Mr. Spleare foreshortened the seat of her trousers. “And believe me, I’ll never do that again.”
“Good.” Ross’s tone deepened to a throaty and sentimental baritone. “Because I love your hair... just the way it is.”
“PEARLS ARE NICE. But, of course, we know that brides always love diamonds.” The jewelry store clerk was all smiles as she followed Ross from counter to counter, where he considered and discarded suggestions as if he had the rest of his life to find Tori’s gift.
Ellie perched on a high-backed stool, her elbows braced on the glass countertop behind her, her overall-clad legs wrapped around the wooden legs of the stool. In the display case beneath her elbows was an assortment of pearl rings, necklaces, broaches and pendants. There was one particularly lovely bracelet, but Ellie was waiting for the opportune moment to suggest it as perfect for Tori. At the moment, Ross seemed bent on choosing a gift without benefit of counsel.
“Let’s look at the watches again,” he said to the clerk, who somehow managed to keep on smiling. “I especially like the one with the odd-shaped dial.”
“It is unusual.” The clerk unlocked the case and pulled out the watch.
Ellie didn’t even wander over to take a second look. It was wearable art, with eye-catching, abstract details and a price tag that made a Rolex seem like a bargain. And Tori would hate it. Ellie had known that the moment she saw it, but for some reason, Ross kept going back to it.
“I think this is it,” he said decisively. “Don’t you agree, El?”
She frowned at him across two display cases and a turntable of half-price earrings. “No, Ross, I don’t. You coerced me into this shopping trip by saying you needed my opinion. So I’m going to give it to you. Tori will hate that watch.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
His jaw flexed, irritably. “I think I know my fiancée a little better than you do.”
“I certainly hope so, but if you honestly believe she’ll wear that watch, much less treasure it for the rest of her life, you know a lot less about her than you think.”
“I’m taking the watch.”
“Come over here and look at this bracelet first,” she suggested. “It has Tori written all over it.”
“It is a beautiful piece and there is a matching necklace.” The clerk all but tossed the watch back into its case before she hurried around to open the display behind Ellie. “Pearls just seem to go with brides, you know. Why just the other day, I sold a gorgeous set of pearls—necklace, bracelet and earrings—to a young man as a gift for his bride.”
The bracelet pooled in Ross’s large palm like frozen, salty teardrops, then he held it out to Ellie. “Try it on, please.”
Wordlessly, she offered her wrist and the clerk draped the pearls around it. The bracelet felt surprisingly heavy as Ellie turned her hand, palm out, then in, to show Ross how the light affected the dappled white of the pearls. “See?” she said. “It’s a beautiful bracelet.”
“But you prefer the watch.”
It was a statement, not a question at all, but she answered him anyway. “Yes, Ross, I like the watch. But Tori won’t. I’m right about this. Buy her the bracelet.”
He frowned and looked at the clerk, who nodded a wholehearted and relieved agreement. “It’s the perfect gift for the perfect bride,” she said.
“All right.” Ross grudgingly capitulated to the female majority. “Gift wrap the bracelet... and give the watch to her.” He indicated Ellie with a jerk of his head. “She’ll wear it home.”
Ellie’s feet slipped off the rung of the stool. “What did you say?”
“I’m buying the watch for you.”
“Ross! You can’t do that. It’s much too expensive. It costs more than Tori’s bracelet, even.”
“That part we won’t tell her, but I’m buying you that watch. Think of it as a thank-you for the gift of your friendship.”
The clerk’s face was wreathed in a smile and she eyed Ellie with new interest. “Oh, that’s so sweet.”
“And completely out of the question,” Ellie said. “I can’t accept it.”
“Yes, you can.” The stubborn glint in his green eyes informed her there was no point in arguing further. So she didn’t. “I’d have been just as happy with the gift certificate from Andy’s,” she said as they walked out of the store a little while later.
“I know,” he said and opened the car door for her. “But this way, every time you look at your wrist, you’ll think of me.”
She checked her wrist, where the gold and silver band reflected sunlight in a shower of flashy rays. “What do you know? It works.”
“If it ever doesn’t, we’re taking it back.”
“I meant, it made me think of you.”
He smiled down at her, catching her heart by surprise. “That’s what I meant, too.”
Ellie swallowed the sentimental lump in her throat as she slid into the passenger seat. “It would have cost a lot less and I’m pretty sure I’d have thought of you every time I used my Andy’s gift certificate, too.”
“But you wouldn’t have been able to give me the time of day.” He grinned and stepped back to close the door. “Holy moley,” he said. “I feel a song coming on.”
“REMEMBER THIS ONE?” Ross tapped an introductory rhythm on the steering wheel, then sang a couple of preliminary doo-wap, doo-waps, before he belted out a melodious, “‘Love is like an antique car...it can’t take you too far. Just when you’re rollin’ along...your heart singin’ a song...the engine shuts down...you’re stranded out of town. Shut down. Shut down. Shut down by love. Shut down. Shut down. Put down by love.’”
Ellie laughed with him at the song they’d composed one long-ago night after a particularly traumatic broken heart. “I can’t believe we actually wrote that one down.”
A Bachelor Falls Page 8