Desi had an idea. She sat up and started to pull on her clothes. “Come on.”
Seth raised himself on an elbow, watching her dress. “Where are we going?”
“Out on your porch to watch the rain.” She took his hand and pulled upward, though she couldn’t budge him.
“Why would we want to do that? It’s warm in here and dry.”
“Seth, do you do anything for fun, without having a reason for it? I mean, haven’t you ever just watched the rain?”
“No. What is the point?” he asked.
“There’s no point, that’s the point. You just stand and watch it fall, watch the sky grow darker and darker. Watch the small puddles turn into huge lakes of water. Watch the water wash down the street. You smell the rain in the air and it revitalizes you. It’s clean and nourishing. And when you stand in it, you’re part of something.”
“Stand in it? You’re not part of anything but wet,” he grumbled, but he did pull his shorts back on.
“Come on, spoilsport.” She pulled him out the door and onto the porch. “See, look at all that water washing down the street. You could race a boat in that stream.”
“I don’t have a boat here,” he pointed out.
He wasn’t getting her point, not getting it at all. But Desi wasn’t giving up. “Okay, so you don’t have a boat here. You could splash in it.”
“I’d get wet.”
“Seth, you’re already all wet. Come on.”
He shook his head. “Desi, I don’t think so.”
“Come on,” she said, pulling him down the stairs.
Seth allowed himself to be pulled onto the sidewalk just to please Desi, not because of any dire need to be rained on.
It wasn’t unpleasant. As a matter of fact the rain was warm and steady. He looked at Desi as she laughed and threw up her arms as she tilted her head backwards. “Doesn’t it feel lovely?”
Lovely.
“Lovely,” he murmured.
“Come on, just don’t stand there.” She was pulling him again, but this time Seth didn’t put up any resistance. Resistance around Desi was futile. If she wanted him to play in the rain, he would. Who cared if his neighbors thought he was crazy?
He would do anything to see her smile at him, like she was right now. He’d give anything to hear the tinkle of her laughter and that included standing in an ankle deep puddle like he was right now.
“Come on, Seth, don’t just stand there,” and she kicked water at him.
Splashing him couldn’t get him any wetter than he already was, but he knew it wasn’t the wetness, but the playing she wanted. So he obliged.
“My feet are bigger and therefore have a larger surface area and can displace more water, which should mean I can make a more effective splash.”
To prove the point, he kicked a huge tidal wave of a splash in her direction.
She kicked back and like a couple of kids, the battle ensued. There was no winner. But when Seth finally caught her in his arms, holding tight to restrain her from any more splashing, he knew winning didn’t have a thing to do with their water battle.
He pulled her into the house without releasing her. As his lips pressed against hers and as she kissed him back, he knew he had a prize in his hands. He just wasn’t sure what to do with it.
“Come on,” she said. “I think I saw some canned soup in your cupboard. I’ll cook for you after we dry off.”
She was pulling at him again, up the stairs.
“I don’t think opening a can constitutes cooking,” he said, just to get a rise out of her.
“I’ll have you know I’m the best canned soup cooker around. It’s all in the ratio of water to soup. I don’t follow the directions. I improvise.”
“No, way,” he said, shaking his head even as he chuckled and followed her into the bathroom. “I mean, Desi doesn’t follow directions? I don’t believe it. It’s so out of character.”
“Don’t you dare mock me, Seth Rutherford. I might not follow directions, but I give them pretty good.” She reached into the bathroom closet and tossed him a towel and took one for herself.
“Oh, and what are you planning to direct this evening?” he asked.
“Well, after some dry clothes—aren’t we lucky that I brought extras?—and some soup, I was planning on inviting myself to sleep over again. Only I wasn’t planning on a lot of sleep.”
He had the towel on his head, drying his hair, and lifted the edge so he could see her. “Do tell.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got tons of directions to give you tonight.”
“You did tell me that you were good at that when you called me to help at the first wedding.”
Seth remembered being sure then, that first wedding, that she wasn’t thinking what he was thinking. And he’d been right. She wasn’t. But now she was and he was right about owing her, too. Oh, he owed her big time. “You also said you’d be gentle with me.”
“And I was. I plan to be again tonight. Only not too gentle.”
Seth couldn’t sleep. He looked at the woman lying next to him. What was he doing?
Right on the heels of the thought came another—what was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he take what life had so graciously tossed in his lap and simply enjoy it?
He couldn’t, he realized. At least not until he’d analyzed the situation and came up with some acceptable answers. He needed to understand. He needed to think.
Quietly, he crawled out of bed and went into his office. He shut the door and turned on the light.
Here, order still reigned. His books were all nicely shelved in alphabetical order. His pencils were all sharpened, his pens neatly in their holder. His diplomas and certificates were on the wall.
There was no woman driving him crazy here. No questions he couldn’t answer with a little research.
Research.
Maybe that’s what he needed.
But in all his trips to the library, he couldn’t ever recall seeing a book called, There’s a Woman in My Bed … Now What Do I Do? Or even better, There’s a Woman on My
Mind … How Do I Get Her Out?
Desi had been on his mind since that first wedding. No, actually, since the rehearsal for his aborted wedding.
What was he going to do about her?
She’d single-handedly shaken his orderly world. He’d allowed her to. More than that, he’d welcomed it. Why?
Seth pulled out a piece of paper and snapped it into a clipboard.
He drew two columns. Desi, he wrote as a header.
What to do about Desi and this attraction?
Reasons why whatever it was between them couldn’t work, he labeled one column.
He was on the rebound, just left at the altar by a woman he’d thought he’d spend the rest of his life with. A woman who shared his interests and his goals, unlike Desi. Desi was an impractical romantic. She believed in things like love at first sight, and fairytale endings. He believed in compatibility, in similar goals and interests.
He scribbled away, filling his reasons why this infatuation can’t last side with amazing speed.
Then he thought of one thing they had going for them. Common ground. He wrote Sex under it. Then crossed it out and wrote Good Sex.
No. He scratched that out as well and wrote Earth-Shattering Sex. He put down the paper and stared at the words. No, that was wrong. What they had was more than sex, good or earth-shattering. Making love with Desi. Making love. That was what they did.
Making love with Desi was about as far removed from sex, even earth-shattering sex, as Newtonian Physics was from Quantum Mechanics.
She made him laugh. That was a plus. A huge plus. He didn’t write it down, he just leaned back in his chair and let the feelings she inspired wash over him.
He couldn’t remember the last time he laughed before Desi. She dragged him into the lake and out into the rain. And yet, when she was around, he felt … happy.
She made him happy.
According to this paper, t
hey had nothing in common. Different goals. Different ideals.
Different.
He’d had everything in common with Mary Kathryn, but she’d never made him laugh, never stirred his blood. He’d never loved her. Oh, he loved her like a friend, with the same feeling of loyalty and comradery he felt for Tony. But he didn’t love her deeply. And that’s what made it possible for him to get over losing her with absolute pain-free ease.
No, he’d never truly loved Mary Kathryn and wished her luck with Tony. They were as odd a pairing as he was with Desi. And yet, Desi evoked such strong feelings from him. He loved her in a way that he’d never loved Mary Kathryn.
There was the physical side … and oh, the physical side was good. But holding her after they’d made love, the feeling hadn’t ebbed. That would leave him to deduct that it was more than physical. That the need he felt for Desi was something deeper, something more.
It was an emotion impossible to measure. There was no reliable quantitative data on that emotion, and yet love was the most accurate term for what he felt for Desi.
He loved her.
He’d have to tell her, but he wasn’t sure how.
She was a woman who’d built a career on romance and he knew absolutely nothing about such a thing. Yet, for Desi’s sake, he needed something big, something so romantic she’d forget all the logic that said they shouldn’t be together and simply say she loved him, too.
Chapter Nine
That Wednesday, Hazard’s was busier than usual, but Desi barely registered the overabundance of nice looking men. She was riding a wave of happiness.
Part of her wanted to tell her friends all about Seth Rutherford. But if she did they’d ask questions about what sort of relationship it was. And the truth was, Desi didn’t have a clue. She refused to worry about it. Refused to worry that Seth was on the rebound, that they didn’t seem to have any common ground except sex.
She refused to worry and refused to explain, so she didn’t say anything to Mary Jo and Pam. She regaled them with her assistant-search woes instead.
“How hard could it be? I just need someone available Friday night and Saturdays.” Before Mary Jo or Pam could answer, Desi continued, “Darn hard apparently.”
Tonight she was indulging in pasta fromage, which was, despite its fancy name, nothing more than macaroni and cheese. Fancy macaroni and cheese. Millions of calories in a bowl.
She took a bite then continued. “Let’s see, there was the girl with the nose ring and tattooed forehead. There have been a number of applicants who leave as soon as they find out the job requires they work on a prime-dating night. And then there was this grandfatherly type who seemed perfect until …”
Desi took another huge bite.
“Until what?” Pam asked.
“Until he told me I’d have to talk to his probation officer for him. Seems he just got out of jail.”
“What’d he do?” Mary Jo asked.
“He’s a flasher. He guarantees he won’t do any flashing at a wedding, but can’t you just see it now? The bride and groom are cutting the cake when suddenly—”
Desi stopped short, not because of worry about a flashing assistant, but because talking about cakes made her think of Seth.
Heck, breathing made her think of Seth. She couldn’t get him off her mind.
“I don’t think I want to see him,” Pam said.
For a moment, Desi wondered if Pam read her mind and knew about her torrid affair, but then she realized that Pam was referring to the flasher.
“Me either, which is why I didn’t hire him.”
“So did you find anyone? If not, I can help this weekend,” Pam offered, then went on, “And speaking of weekends, did I tell you about my date?”
“I may just take you up on that. And no, you didn’t tell us about your date,” Desi said. She took another huge bite of her calorie rich dinner as she listened to Pam’s happy bubbling monologue.
“… and then he walked around and opened up the car door for me,” she practically cooed.
“He didn’t think you could manage it yourself?” Desi asked.
“He was just being a gentleman.”
“Paul used to hold the door for me, but now I’m just happy if he’ll hold a kid now and again, or maybe get a chance to hold my …” Mary Jo paused a pregnant moment and finished, “Hand now and again.”
“That’s not what you were going to say,” Pam scolded.
“No, but it’s close enough,” Mary Jo said with a wicked grin.
“Look,” Pam said, pointing to a lovely specimen of manhood standing across the street from the deck-side table. “Oh, that’s a commando and if he asked, I’d let him hold my—”
“I thought you were dating Mr. Car-door,” Desi said.
“Oh, I am, but I don’t think it will last.”
“Why?” Mary Jo asked. “You and Desi need to be more optimistic. Maybe he’s Mr. Right.”
Pam snorted. “I don’t think so. Even though he’s hot—and boy is he hot—and opens doors, he’s not the kind of man you’d want to marry. He’s got a wandering eye and wandering hands, which have momentarily wandered my way, but I don’t expect them to linger long.”
“So why are you seeing him?” Desi asked.
Maybe if she could figure out why Pam was in a relationship she doubted would last long, she could figure out why she was with Seth.
“Because sometimes you have to settle for Mister-Right-Now while you keep looking for Mister-Right,” Pam said.
“And how will you know Mr. Right when you meet him?” Desi asked.
“I believe I just will. He’ll like the same things I do, he’ll want to settle down and have a family. He’ll like my friends and my friends will like him. Why?”
Desi shrugged. “Just wondering.”
Mister-Right-Now.
That’s what Seth was. Even if they could get past their differences, he was on the rebound and would eventually bounce back into his old life—a life that didn’t include her.
She was his transitional woman.
The thought didn’t cheer her up. She took another sip of wine.
Seth was a man who entered relationships mind-first, not heart-first. Eventually his analytical mind would figure out how many differences stood between them.
She hoped her heart would figure it out as well.
“Oh, silk boxers,” Pam yelled.
Desi murmured her approval and wondered how much longer right now was going to be?
That Saturday afternoon, Desi slumped into the pew next to her new assistant with a sigh.
Her sigh wasn’t really about the girl she’d hired. No, the girl was fine.
Desi was sighing because she was having a hard time keeping her mind on work.
Who was she kidding?
Her thoughts were so far removed from the Feeney wedding, that she was lucky she even knew the happy couple’s names. Somehow she’d managed everything and the ceremony was about to begin at any second. Yet, here she was, sitting at the back of the church ignoring what she needed to do next. Instead, she was fantasizing.
Fantasizing about Seth.
She looked up at the altar and she saw Seth there. But the funny thing was, she didn’t see Mary Kathryn. No, the face was fuzzy and she wasn’t about to try and tune it in because she was afraid she knew who it was. And she didn’t know if she liked that it was an image of herself standing next to Seth.
She was romanticizing about standing in front of a church and telling the world she …
She what?
How did she feel about Seth.
Love, a little voice inside her head whispered, but Desi tried to ignore it. It was too soon to throw that word around and, even worse, too soon to throw around the emotion connected to the word around. And yet, she couldn’t shake the whisper.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
As if by magic, he appeared. “Seth? What are you doing here?”
He sat next to her and the bea
t of Desi’s heart picked up its tempo. After all the times she’d made love to Seth, she would have thought she’d exhausted her desire, but if anything, it had only increased.
He reached out and took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “How could I leave you in a bind?”
“But I thought you had samples to take this weekend?”
“I left right after you did and took them already.”
They’d spent every night this week together, either at her place or his. Getting out of bed each morning, leaving the warmth of his arms, was tough, and every day it became just a little bit tougher.
“But you didn’t have to—”
“Sh. They’re starting the music.”
Desi watched the bridesmaids’ march down the aisle, but any hope of enjoying the Feeney wedding evaporated. Seth had arrived and she couldn’t keep her eyes off the man.
Finally, she nudged him and whispered, “Why are you really here?”
“Like I said, I thought you could use the help of someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Desi shot him a look and Seth grinned and corrected himself, “Okay, someone who almost knows what they’re doing. I obviously know how tough it is to be the new assistant. And,” he dropped his voice even lower and leaned close to her ear, tickling it as he whispered, “I wanted to be near you, even if it meant working at a wedding.”
He paused and added, “By the way you haven’t introduced us.”
“Seth this is Bambi, my new assistant, Bambi this is Seth.”
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, giving the knockout blonde only a cursory nod. His attention was still focused on Desi. “I’m just helping out today until you get the hang of things.”
“Don’t you have any zebra mussels you need to count or whatever it is you do to them?” Desi asked. The instant surge of relief she’d felt when he’d sat next to her, scared her. She was starting to count on him. What would she do when they were no longer together?
Pam’s phrase, Mr.-Right-Now flitted through her mind.
What would happen when right now was over?
How to Catch a Groom Page 9