Took me all of ten seconds, which judging by the applause, was appreciated after Mitchell’s seven-minute blathering.
I had just about reached my seat when the bandleader announced it was time for Lisa and David’s first dance. I knew from speaking to Lisa that Tenley Huntington-St. John had arranged for private lessons with a choreographer so the waltz would be perfect. It paid off. Other than a few missteps because of her shoes, Lisa got through the first part of the song without falling face-first into the six-tier cake.
Then came the whole will-the-rest-of-the-wedding-party-please-join-our-couple invitation. I waited by my chair for Mitchell to join me. As soon as he held out his hand, I awkwardly took to the dance floor. If the weasel stepped on my Jimmy Choos, I’d probably knee him in the testicles.
We’d been dancing for maybe ten seconds when I realized Liam was tapping Mitchell on the shoulder. Suddenly, I was passed off. Liam pulled me close. Not just bodies touching but pressed together. Hard.
A slight murmur went through the guests as Liam spun me around and pulled my hand against his body. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Pissing your mother off. A little payback for the way she treats you.”
I glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “It’s working.”
His hand dropped lower until it rested just below the small of my back. “I’m liking it myself. Great toast, by the way. I wouldn’t have pegged you as the sentimental type.”
“I’m not. I got it off IDoWeddingToasts.com.”
Liam’s hand dipped lower still, pressing our bodies even closer. “Well played.”
“You, too. You’re managing to frost my mother and break the heart of your brunette girlfriend all with one dance.”
“Jealous?”
No, I was hot. Really hot. “The song is ending.”
“So it is,” Liam agreed as he waited for total silence before releasing me.
My knees felt weak, and I wasn’t sure I still had a fully functional spine. I got an express ride back to reality when I turned and saw my mother’s red face. She was hot too, only in a different way.
“What were you thinking, Finley?” she asked as soon as we returned to the table. “That was inappropriate and disgusting.”
“Thought you said it wasn’t serious,” Great-aunt Susan remarked. “Looked mighty serious from here.”
“Really, Finley. And you,” she paused to glare at Liam. She let her narrowed gaze complete the thought.
The next few hours were a bit painful. My mother and Liam had both drawn their lines in the sand. The brunette had asked Liam to dance twice. Both times he accepted, though he didn’t grind her the way he had me. Just to irritate her, he asked my mother to dance. She declined, but Great-aunt Susan was all over her invitation. She probably hadn’t danced since the Reagan administration, so she and her artificial hip went for it.
Then we had cake—chocolate with champagne buttercream—and then … it happened. The most humbling experience at any wedding is the dreaded tossing of the bouquet. Normally, I make sure to time a trip to the ladies’ room to avoid participating, but that wouldn’t work in this situation. The leader of the full orchestra had already introduced me to the wedding guests, so my absence would be conspicuous. Not to mention my mother would have a fit if I wasn’t one hundred percent into the festivities.
But a bouquet toss? Standing huddled in a lump of desperate, single women holding on to the myth that the lone catcher will be the next one down the aisle held zero appeal for me. It was a spectacle. Not to mention that it often turned physical. Some women were so eager to get their hands on the silk-flower prize that they actually hip-checked you out of the way. Worse still, the whole thing was set to music. In this case, it was an instrumental version of “It’s Raining Men.”
“Get up there,” my mother said with a clenched smile.
Dutifully, I rose and began weaving my way through the tables. “Good luck!” Liam called after me.
Good luck? Hardly. Getting into position was not an easy task, given that my dress had some volume and my heels were too high for bouquet hockey. What if I broke a heel? The mere thought of harm coming to my Jimmy Choos gave me chills.
Joining the throng of about thirty-five bachelorettes, I stayed toward the back of the pack, in what I like to think of as the safe zone. Seven of my sister bridesmaids were clumped in the crowd of hopefuls.
As Lisa took her place on a chair in the front of the banquet room, I fiddled with the double-strand pearl necklace that she’d given all her attendants. We also received a matching bracelet and drop pearl earrings, so I was accessorized to the gills.
When the wedding guests began a countdown, Lisa swung her arm in unison to the cheers.
“Two … one!”
The next thing I knew I was holding a silk replica of Lisa’s bouquet. I received a rousing round of applause that made my cheeks warm as embarrassment crept up from my neck. Maneuvering back to the table, I tried to ignore the condescending smile on Liam’s face.
I actually added that to my list of things to ignore about Liam. Seeing him in a tux was still a distraction. Then there was the whole didn’t-actually-kiss-me-at-the-rehearsal-dinner thing. Having him around was proving to be a test, one I wasn’t so sure I was passing. But my situation was about to change. David and Lisa were getting ready to leave, which meant I could go up to my room and relax. Well, as much as possible, knowing Liam was right next door.
Thirty minutes later I was back in the relative peace and quiet of my suite, wearing lounge pants and sipping coffee. As much as I enjoyed clothing, I was tired of being trussed into a ball gown. I’d never make it as Cinderella. Even though it was just shy of eleven, it had been a very long and exhausting day.
As I was refilling my mug, I heard a couple of noises from Liam’s room. I wanted to go to the adjoining door and knock, but I knew better. I was tired of pretending I wasn’t attracted to him, and I knew if I made the first move, something that shouldn’t happen would, three-wishes bullshit or not.
Summoning my courage, and switching from coffee to champagne, I changed into the silk nightie and matching robe I’d packed. I didn’t want to think about why I’d packed the sexy getup. Wishful thinking?
I was tired of thinking and ready to act. I gulped the rest of my champagne and knocked on the adjoining door.
In a nanosecond it opened. Liam was gloriously bare-chested, wearing only a pair of jeans. The sight literally took my breath away.
“Need to borrow a cup of sugar?” he asked, with his head cocked and a sexy grin.
His eyes traversed the full length of my body, making me shiver. “I had something else in mind.”
“So I see.”
His arm snaked around me, and he pulled me close. The soft hair on his chest tickled my warmed skin. His mouth met mine, and then we were moving backward into my suite. I was lost in the pure sensuality of his tongue dancing with mine.
Gently, he lay on the sofa, bringing me tumbling down in his embrace. We were still lip-locked, but my brain was savoring the feel of his rock-solid body. My flimsy nightie was pretty much useless; I could feel every inch of him. He didn’t need to tell me he wanted me, I could feel it and taste it as he drew my lower lip between his teeth and teased it with his tongue.
My hands went exploring. I touched every millimeter of his broad shoulders and torso, loving the way he moaned softly as I slipped my fingertips a hairsbreadth into the waistband of his jeans.
His hands were tangled in my hair, gently massaging my neck as he increased the pressure of his lips. My body responded with fiery waves coursing through my veins, sending heat to every nerve ending.
My heart skipped a beat when he looped his thumb and forefinger around my strap and slowly began to peel away the garment. All I could do was hold his head as he kissed his way down my shoulder and over my collarbone. Through the fabric, he teased my taut nipple with a combination of heat from his breath and gentle flicks of his tongue.
I wanted to be naked. I wanted him naked, too. I was filled with a sense of urgency and the promise of long-awaited fulfillment. I unfastened the top button of his jeans, as a small sound rumbled out of my throat when his fingers brushed my breast.
There was a ringing in my ears I originally chalked up to brain-addled passion. Eventually, I realized it was the phone in Liam’s room.
“Let it ring,” I whispered.
“I will,” he said as he dragged me up his body and kissed me deeply.
The phone rang again and again until it couldn’t be ignored.
“It’s got to be important,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”
“Leaving me, eh?”
“How about you use the time to get into bed?” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll meet you there.”
Liam stood and went into his room while I went in the opposite direction. I closed the bedroom door, adjusted the lighting, then stripped and slipped beneath the sheets. My heart was pounding loudly. I was quivering as the first minute passed. Then another and another. Finally, Liam returned. This time he was wearing a shirt and shoes with his jeans. Had I really misread the signals that badly?
He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I know I’ll regret this, but I’ve got to go.”
“Go where?”
“Back to West Palm.”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“Can’t be helped. If I stay, it will only make your life more difficult.”
“Hooking up with you will not make my life difficult,” I insisted as I bunched the covers up over my shoulders.”
“You’ll just have to trust me on this one.” That said, he bent down and gave me one more mind-altering kiss, then left.
I scrambled out of bed and into some clothes, then raced into the living room. The door to his room was closed. I heard the muted sound of an exterior door closing, but by the time I reached the peephole, the hallway was clear.
I was confused and all worked up. The only cure?
Shop.
Powering up my laptop, I checked my eBay auctions and discovered that Tiara64 had bid all the items up over their appraised value. Combined, the three pins worth between twenty-four hundred and three thousand dollars were at nearly four grand. The bracelet was up from an appraised high of two hundred to two fifty, and the earrings were ten dollars over at two hundred ten. That was four thousand four hundred fifty. Even if the bids didn’t go a penny higher, I was looking at making a cool five thousand with the selling bonus. Not too shabby for costume jewelry. The greedy part of me wished I’d listed the one good brooch as well. I could only imagine what Tiara64 would pay for a genuine Lucy Shaw piece.
With my almost-newfound wealth, I began searching for Rolex parts. I found the watch movement and placed a bid limit of twenty-five hundred on it. Then I grabbed up a couple of links on a “buy it now” for three hundred dollars. I could just hear Jane in my ear, reminding me that I needed to save the extra money and put it toward home expenses. At least then I wouldn’t be drawing against the home equity line every month just to pay half of the monthly loan payment.
Satisfied that I’d done everything possible on the eBay front, I took my mug to the sink and rinsed it. Then, like some lovesick teenager, I tiptoed over to the adjoining door and placed my ear against it, listening intently.
All I heard was the sound of my own breathing. Dragging myself away from the door, I packed a lot of my things. I finally went to bed.
In the morning, I took the SD card out of my camera and uploaded the photos I'd taken before the wedding and at the reception. Unconsciously, I had taken an awful lot of shots of Liam in his tux. I decided not to share all of them with Becky, Jane, and Liv, but I did want them to get the full flavor of the event. Both Liv and Jane called to comment on the photos and to see how my Liam time had gone. I filled them in, holding back the fact that I was over game playing and ready just to jump his bones to get it out of my system.
After showering, dressing, and finishing my packing, I went back to the computer to watch the auction clock click down to zero. As soon as it did, I totaled the amount and called Becky.
“Finley?”
“Yeah. Still willing to meet the tiara lady?”
“You’re sure it’s a lady and not some jewelry-collecting serial killer, right?” she joked.
Her mood seemed lighter. “Sounds like you got a good night’s sleep.”
“Don’t know about good, but I managed five hours. That’s more consecutive hours than I’ve had in almost a week.”
“You’re sure about meeting this woman?” I asked.
“Yeah. Just have her meet me at the corner of Chilean and East Ocean. No sense in giving her your home address just in case she is a fruit loop.”
I felt a pang of discomfort. “You know what, never mind. I can just e-mail her and tell her I’ll ship her the stuff overnight tomorrow.” Good-bye, five-hundred-dollar bonus.
“Don’t be silly. I’m meeting her on a public street. She doesn’t know me from Eve’s housecat, so if I sense anything out of whack, I’ll just drive away, and then you can make alternate arrangements.”
“Are you sure?” Welcome home, bonus bucks!
“Positive. Besides, I’m meeting Jane and Liv for a late lunch afterward.”
I felt a twinge of envy. While they were out lunching and chatting, I’d be battling my way through security at Hartsfield. I thanked Becky again, then sent the e-mail to Tiara64 with instructions.
I called for a bellman. I realized I had to pack the coffee gift basket, but it wouldn’t fit in my luggage without some real creativity.
Thank heavens I’d brought a tote with me. I tried rolling up several items of clothing and tucking them into the tote, and then I shoved my laptop in my purse. It was too bulky. I gave up. I’d just have to go to the business center and have the items shipped home.
By the time the bellman arrived, I’d repacked, albeit in a disorganized fashion. As we walked out the door, I noticed a maid’s cart blocking the door to Liam’s room.
Following behind as the bellman pushed the luggage rack, I explained that I’d need to stop at the business center. While my basket was being wrapped and packed for shipment, I used the opportunity to print my boarding pass at one of the kiosks.
As soon as I was settled into a taxi, I called my mother’s room. She still refused to get a cell phone. “Hi. I’m on my way to the airport.”
“I’m staying an extra day. After this weekend, I need some time to relax from the stress.”
“I thought the wedding was a huge success.”
“Of course you would think that. You didn’t have to be involved with the planning and logistics.”
“That would have been a little difficult since I live six hundred miles away.”
“I managed to make time for your sister. Yesterday was an important day for her, and you did nothing to help.”
“What needed to be done that I missed?”
“How like you, Finley. Always thinking of yourself. You should have been thinking about how it felt for me to sit at a table with that private detective of yours. Really, you couldn’t find anyone more appropriate?”
“What did Liam do that offended you?”
“Where do I begin?” she answered dramatically. “He’s just not of our ilk.”
“We have an ilk?”
“Don’t take that tone with me,” she warned. “You know exactly what and why I was mortified by his presence.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Where is your pride? The man flirted with every girl there.”
“He’s a single man. Why shouldn’t he flirt? And he wasn’t the one flirting. Women like him. Seems to me you were a little flirty, too. Or did that single stockbroker end up at our table by accident?”
“The gentleman was coming unescorted. I arranged for him to sit near me to ensure he enjoyed the festivities.”
“Whatever.” I ended the host
ile call and sent a text message to Becky. It was one forty-five, and I wanted to make sure she’d closed the costume jewelry deal. She didn’t respond immediately. Either she was driving home, or to the office, or the battery in her phone had died. My money was on the battery drain. Becky was famous for neglecting to charge her phone. And now that she was overworked, she was probably even less attentive.
After I’d cleared security, I bought a half-dozen Moon Pies and found my gate. No way was I carrying on a six-pack of RC. Becky would just have to deal. I tried calling her. It went directly to voice mail, confirming my suspicions. I left a message, just in case she recharged. I remembered that she was meeting Jane and Liv for lunch and was about to call Liv when my flight was announced. Hoisting my tote up on my shoulder, I made my way down the gangway and into the belly of the aircraft. Like on the flight down, I was alone in business class, though I found myself wondering if Liam might magically appear. When he didn’t, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
Something was different when I got home. “What the hell?” I whispered as I deposited my second suitcase in the foyer. I hadn't noticed on the first trip in, but now that I was actually in, I saw little, disturbing details.
My sofa cushions were askew, as if someone had lifted them looking for spare change. The velvet jewelry bag was gone from the counter, but I didn’t see any cash. I walked into the bedroom and found a few other things out of place. My comforter was bunched at the end of the bed. “Weird,” I muttered as I deposited my purse and tote on the unmade bed. I couldn’t imagine Becky going through my stuff, but I also couldn’t imagine anyone breaking into my cottage. I checked the obvious stuff—jewelry and electronics—but everything was present and accounted for. As far as I could tell, nothing was missing.
4 Slightly Irregular Page 17