“Nope. I’m all yours. Whatever you need me to do, I’m willing.” He inflected just the right amount of innuendo into the statement.
Desi couldn’t help responding, “That’s good to know. I might hold you to that later. But for now, sh, here comes the bride.”
The congregation all stood in a fluid motion and watched as the beautiful young woman walked past them.
Desi fought back the tears. Though she always cried at weddings, these tears weren’t for the beautiful bride marching down the aisle toward her happily-ever-after.
“Are you crying again?” Seth asked.
“I told you I always cry at weddings. Look how Leonard’s staring at Evelyn. It’s as if she’s the only woman in the world. As a matter of fact, she is the only woman in the world for him and he’s looking at her that way. That’s what I want. Romance.”
Romance?
Seth sat glumly by Desi’s side as the ceremony progressed. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about romance, looking for ways to woo Desi and didn’t feel any more prepared than when he began.
What did he know about romance?
It was abstract. Every woman he’d talked to had a different idea. Every book he read said something different.
He’d started with a dictionary. Romance. A noun. “(1):a love story.”
Gee, that helped.
He’d gone through some of his texts, but mainly came up with either clinical descriptions of sex, or biological explanations.
So he did what he’d always done—he’d gone to the bookstore.
Normally when he visited he stayed in the non-fiction section, but this time he headed toward fiction and found that they had an entire section devoted to romance. An enormous section. A massive section. There had to be more romance books on the shelves than any other genre of fiction.
Not knowing what else to do when presented with such a large array of choices, he decided to take a sampling. He randomly drew ten books from the shelves and took them to the register.
“Are these for you?” the clerk asked, with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Oh, honey, you’re going to make some lucky girl very happy.”
“What do you mean?” he’d asked.
“Why, a man who’s not afraid to read romance, who’s secure enough in his own masculinity, is every woman’s dream man.”
The clerk thought he was every woman’s dream man. Maybe there was hope of convincing Desi he was hers.
With a sense of excitement, Seth had dug in.
The first book he’d read had fairies flitting through its pages, helping the couple come together. He’d been pretty sure he didn’t have any fairies hanging around ready to offer him help and advice.
Seth had tossed it aside and started the second book. It was a romantic intrigue, according to the cover. People were shooting at the hero and heroine from page one on. This gave the hero a number of opportunities to be heroic and prove his love to the heroine.
No one was shooting at him or Desi. The most heroic thing he’d done was not fall on her that first night that she’d brought him home.
As Seth watched Desi’s latest couple exchange vows, he reflected on the third story. The hero had found a baby on his doorstep and the heroine had helped him care for the infant. As they worked their way through each problem—and Seth had never realized how many problems a baby could cause until he read this story—they became closer.
He didn’t see any hope of finding a baby, or a gun-toting madman, or even a handful of fairies on his doorstep. So the question remained—how was he going to romance Desi Smith?
How was he going to make her fall in love with him? Because nothing less than that would satisfy him.
He realized that the minister was announcing, “And now, may I present, Evelyn and Leonard, Mr. and Mrs. Feeney.”
The crowd stood and clapped as the happy couple walked down the aisle.
“Well, here we go. It’s show time,” Desi said.
“You’ve been very quiet,” Desi said.
She’d followed Seth home after the Feeney wedding. She never ate at receptions because she was so busy, so they’d eaten a late lunch, or early dinner, depending on your perspective. It was a rather quiet meal. She’d let him chose this time, and instead of greasy burgers, they had a stir-fry. She wasn’t going to admit it, but the food was pretty good, despite the fact it was healthy.
“So what’s wrong?” she asked. Seth didn’t seem mad, but his thoughts were obviously somewhere else tonight.
“Just thinking,” Seth said.
“About what?”
“Oh, this and that.”
He was hiding something. Desi could sense it.
“I’m going to take a shower, okay?” he said.
“Sure. Do you mind if I check my email on your computer? I’m waiting for a contract and could use a bigger screen than my phone. In the interest of honesty, I also want to see what my friend, Mary Jo sent me today. She tends to send me weird little emails throughout the day. Things like asking me to save her.”
“From what?” he asked.
“Her kids,” Desi said with a laugh. “She’s got four. They’re tough. And Phil was going to email me. The paper is sending him to Hawaii.”
She was also hoping for a romance update as well. Phil was still trying to woo Debbie back.
“Tough job,” Seth said with a laugh.
Even Seth’s laughter seemed forced, she realized with a sinking heart. Could right-now have ended so fast?
“Yeah, that’s what I told him,” she said, forcing a smile of her own, trying to keep things light.
“Sure. Go ahead and help yourself to my computer. I’ll be out in just a few minutes.”
Schrodinger was sitting at her feet staring at her.
“You are the laziest cat in the world,” Desi said as she lifted the giant feline and carried him up the stairs with her. Schrodinger seemed to be of the opinion that there was no need to walk if someone could be coaxed into carrying him.
Desi set him outside the office door. “Are you coming in?” she asked.
“Merp.”
She wasn’t sure if that was a yes merp or a no merp, so she left the office door open as she walked in.
She was surprised to see papers sitting out on the desk. Seth was a stickler for filing things right away.
She booted up the computer and tapped on the clipboarded paper.
Her name caught her attention.
Feeling a bit guilty, Desi took a closer look.
Her name topped the paper, and under it was a column labeled, Reasons why this infatuation can’t last. It was full of scribbled reasons. He was on the rebound, they were different …
Desi read them all, having thought each and every one of them herself at one time or another. Yet, though she’d thought of them as well, it hurt to see them listed so methodically in black and white.
The other column, the things they had going for them had sex and good sex scratched out. Earth-shattering sex.
Desi stared at the paper in her hand and hiccupped.
Sex. That’s all they had going for them, at least according to Seth’s list.
Hiccup.
Sex. Earth-shattering sex, maybe, but still it was just sex.
Hiccup—hiccup—hiccup.
That’s all she meant to him.
A roll in the hay.
Mattress bouncing.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
She tried to end the string of violent hiccups by holding her breath, but that only made her feel light headed.
Hiccup.
Desi had thought they were building a relationship. Maybe they were different, but she thought those differences were turning out to be good differences. He filled in the cracks of her life and she’d thought maybe she was doing the same for him … helping to give his life some balance.
She remembered the way he’d defended her to her parents. He’d seemed to understand her—understand her so much bet
ter in their short time together than her parents had in an entire lifetime.
She thought they’d connected. She’d actually started allowing herself to whisper the word love, at least in the safety of her mind.
Sex.
Hiccup.
That’s all he could think in terms of what they had going for them. And look at his list of reasons why they shouldn’t be together. It was miles long.
Well, fine.
She walked out of the office, Schrodinger wrapping around her ankles. She reached down to pet the cat. “Sorry, Dingie. Hiccup. I’ve got to go.”
“Go?” Seth said, walking out of the bathroom. “I’d sort of hoped I could talk you into spending the night. We could take The Guppy out on the lake tomorrow. I have a few samples to gather, but I swear I won’t hand you any zebra mussels. Afterward, we could have a picnic or something.”
“Sorry. Hiccup. No. I … I have plans with Mary Jo and Pam.”
“But—” He stopped short and studied her. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just that I’m busy. Hiccup. You’re busy. And really, what do we have going for us? Sex. Hiccup. That’s all. We have nothing in common. I think it’s time to nip this in the bud.”
“You’re upset. Look at you, you’re hiccupping again. What happened?” He paused a moment, and added, “What do you mean nip it?”
“Seth, yes, I’m upset. I see that I’ve been wasting both our time with some girlish fantasy. Hiccup. It’s always a bit upsetting to see yourself clearly.”
She held her breath a long moment, and then, trying not to let him see her pain said, “Let me see if I can put this in terms you will understand. What we had was a brief, explosive chemical reaction. But now the reaction has fizzled out and all that’s left is a less than satisfactory heterogeneous mixture—one part of the composition is different than the other part. Hiccup. We can’t completely combine no matter how hard we try. We don’t have anything in common, we’re just sitting in a beaker, each of us on our own side, doing our own thing. There’s nothing to base a relationship with. No reason to continue seeing each other.”
“Desi—”
“Goodbye Seth.” Hiccups threatened to escape but she held her breath as she walked out the front door—striving to maintain at least that much dignity.
Chapter Ten
What had just happened?
Seth tried to analyze the situation. He’d spent the day flawlessly helping at the Feeney wedding, then come home and taken a shower. Desi had seemed happy enough when she’d gone to his office to check her email.
In the time it had taken him to shower she’d had some sudden revelation that they weren’t going to work out and left.
It didn’t add up. She’d been happy to see him today, he’d have bet on that.
So what had changed? What variable had been added to the mix without his knowing?
He went into his office and sat at his desk. The computer was on, but no programs had been opened.
What had happened?
He glanced at the clipboard on his desk and found the notes he’d scribbled earlier.
Earth-shattering sex.
That’s the only good thing he’d written down on his list. Uh oh.
And Desi had read it.
Damn.
He’d stopped writing as he tried to figure out their relationship. She hadn’t got to read all the feelings he’d so painstakingly worked out. She hadn’t seen his personal revelation.
She didn’t know about the romance books he’d been reading, trying to think of some way to tell her how he felt.
Now what?
Schrodinger sat on the floor staring at him. “Yeah, I know, I know, I blew it.”
“Merp.”
“So, now what?”
The cat didn’t say a word.
That’s how it was with cats—they never had anything worthwhile to say when you needed them to.
He called Desi’s number. “Des, call me when you get this. We need to talk.”
He hung up and sighed. He glanced at the corner of his office where his stack of romances sat. There were seven left to read. Maybe one of them would have the answer.
He read through several books that night, but was no closer to an answer and no closer to talking to Desi. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to understand that she was avoiding him. He called and talked to her voicemail repeatedly.
The next day, he sent flowers asking for a chance to explain.
Flowers.
He was proud he’d thought of it. Flowers were supposed to be romantic, but obviously they weren’t enough to make Desi listen.
He’d finished all his books by Wednesday and was forced to admit he still didn’t have a clue how to win her back—how to make her listen.
He needed help.
He needed to figure out how to apologize for hurting Desi and how to tell her, in a romantic way, how he really felt. Books weren’t the answer.
It galled Seth to reach that conclusion. For as long as he could remember, he’d truly believed that all the answers were contained in one book or another. That any problem could be solved when approached methodically and logically.
But he’d yet to find a book that would help figure out Desdemona Smith, no amount of logic would help. She was a woman who knew what she wanted. And he needed to make sure that she knew what she wanted most was him.
He could only think of two people in the whole world who might come close to having the answers he needed. Two people who lived their lives, going after their dreams and grabbing them loudly. Two people he never imagined he wanted to be anything like, but now found himself aching to be able to emulate.
Two people.
He dialed the phone.
“Mom?”
Seth had sent flowers on Monday.
He’d left repeated messages ranging from, I hate this machine, to, I know you read my list. Let me explain.
Explain? Desi would have laughed except she hurt too much to laugh.
Seth thought they had earth-shattering sex. Nothing else. What was there to explain about that?
She’d been a fool to hook up with a guy on the rebound. They had nothing in common. He was right about that much.
Desi, when you get this, call me. We have to talk, that was one of his most frequently repeated messages.
Right.
Desi, I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong.
No, she’d been wrong to think they even stood a chance at anything beyond what they had. Just sex. She’d been wrong when she thought maybe she loved him.
She was tired of hearing his voicemails and decided to tape a new greeting on her machine. Today is Wednesday. I work from nine to five. Then I’m going out to dinner with friends. If you’re a friend or family, please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If this is Seth, you’re neither friend nor family, so don’t bother.
She should feel better. But she didn’t.
Desi went to the office and had spent the day nailing down details on upcoming weddings and talked to two new clients. Normally a new client was an exciting thing. She loved being part of the magic and enthusiasm.
Today, she wondered if they could sense how fake her smile was?
The thought of going to dinner with Mary Jo and Pam didn’t even cheer her up. She didn’t feel the least bit inclined to guess about anyone’s underwear choice. She’d planned on dumping her feelings on them, telling them about the entire situation, but didn’t know if she could do it.
They’d tell her that she was lucky, that he was a louse and she was better off without him. They’d get mad on her behalf and threaten all kinds of wicked retribution.
Yeah, Mary Jo and Pam would be sympathetic. But in the end, she canceled, feeling a bit guilty when she texted them, knowing both were still at work.
She didn’t want to be cheered up. She didn’t want to see anyone. She just wanted to wallow in her misery and beat herself up over being such a f
ool.
After all, could she have picked a more inappropriate guy to fall for? He was on the rebound. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. His idea of a hot date was fishing out slimy critters from the lake. And the only good thing he could think of in regards to their relationship was sex.
Well, he was right, they were wrong for each other. And Desi was going to get over Seth Rutherford in record time. After all, it was just a short fling, nothing more.
Nothing more.
She kept saying the phrase, but it didn’t help.
She returned home and realized she hadn’t had a new voicemail from him in a while. Well, of course not. Seth had probably given up.
After all, it wasn’t logical to keep chasing after a woman who’d made it clear she didn’t want anything to do with you. And Seth Rutherford believed in logic, not love.
The thought made her feel even more morose.
She changed into her ragged flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top. Comfort clothes. She was going to sit in her worst looking outfit, gorge herself on junk food, and give herself this one last night to wallow in despondency. Tomorrow was a new day and—
There was a knock at the door.
Ha! He was here. Her surge of excitement at the thought was simply because if he was here she had a chance to slam the door on his face. Maybe if she was lucky, he’d stick a big fat foot in between the door and the jam so she could step on it or slam it.
“Don’t send flowers, don’t call—” Desi broke off mid-tirade. She flung open the door. “Mary Jo. What’s up?”
“What’s up?” Mary Jo repeated as she elbowed her way into the apartment. “I don’t know. You canceled dinner at the last minute, so we decided to come here.”
“We?”
“Pam’s on her way, too. She’s just running a little late. You know Pam, she’s always burning the candle at both ends. So, what’s up? That’s my question for you. You can start by telling me and we’ll catch Pam up when she gets here.”
Mary Jo plopped onto the couch and kicked her feet up onto the coffee table. “Start talking.”
“Pardon?” Desi said and was immediately reminded how much Seth enjoyed her prim and proper question. She quickly changed it to, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure you do. Don’t you think we noticed that there was something you were hiding at our last couple dinners? Why, you hardly noticed all the men … and even though I’m totally in love with my husband, I notice. It’s not natural not to. Pam and I talked yesterday and decided we were going to beat it—whatever it is—out of you tonight and then you cancel. And I call your machine and find a new greeting. Who’s Seth and why don’t you want his messages?”
How to Catch a Groom Page 10