I Thee Bed.... Jule McBride
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conceded, her voice hitching with excitement. “You can do more with cakes. I even saw one recently that looked as if it was made of leather, but I really want this wedding to be almost all white. The tablecloths are white. The tents, just in case the weather warms up and we can move outside. I really hope it materializes the way I’ve imagined it. If so, it should be traditional, classy, beautiful.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“There’s a matching bracelet that’s attached to the ring by a thin chain,” she found herself continuing. “It’s only to be worn for fancy events. Like the wedding. Or maybe parties Julia attends in the future. And the necklace was to be—” rummaging, Edie found yet another drawing “—this simple long strand of diamonds that loops once around her neck.”
“Wow.”
Edie shrugged. “Julia chose another ring, but she’s wearing the necklace. Still, she’s pretty ambivalent.”
Seth shook his head, as if to say that was a shame.
“She would have been happy with no ring at all,” Edie said in her defense. “Julia’s a simple person, really. She’s madly in love, and just wants to settle down and start a family with as little fanfare as possible.”
“So why the…”
“Expensive, beautiful three-ring circus?” Edie finished. “Her father pushed for it. Still, I think once all is said and done, Julia will be happy she and Lorenzo have the memories.”
When she glanced up, her eyes locked with Seth’s. This time, he didn’t look away, and Edie simply couldn’t. Her lips parted as if in anticipation, and she drew in a quick, audible breath. Simultaneously, she was aware Seth Bishop had registered her response. No doubt, he could guess that her heart was hammering again. Maybe he saw the pulse that was ticking too fast in her throat. Or felt the sudden jerk of her knee against his. And while he couldn’t feel the heat pooling in her belly, or the sudden swift pang at her feminine core, maybe he could guess at it.
“What about your memories, Edie,” he murmured.
Vaguely, she wondered if this was really happening. One moment, she’d been discussing Julia’s wedding with her new assistant, and the next…
“My memories?” she managed.
“Definitely,” he said, “I don’t think you should give up on having a wedding for yourself that’s every bit as beautiful.”
Given the way he was looking at her, she almost felt as if he was proposing. It should have been unsettling, and yet such quick intimacy coming from this man, wasn’t. With every passing minute, he seemed more like her perfect match. They were both morning people. Meat-and-potatoes people. Headache rather than stomachache people. And they both liked imported beer and fine wines. They took their coffee exactly the same way, and had read most of the same books. Most importantly, when it came to talking about weddings—colors, fabrics, music, meals—Edie had finally met someone with whom she could really talk shop. They were both on the same wavelength, and during conversations, they nearly stumbled over themselves, each trying to get words out first.
What about your memories, Edie? Had Seth Bishop really just said that? Feeling as if she was in a daze, Edie considered Bridget’s ghost-busting trip once more. Had her sister really ended the wedding curse that had haunted the Benning women for years? Was it Edie’s turn to find love now?
It seemed so crazy. But why? Every woman had to meet her true love somewhere. Why shouldn’t this be Edie’s moment? Why shouldn’t this dark, snowy evening be The One? Her chest feeling tight, Edie leaned forward, wondering how he’d respond if she just pressed her lips to his….
She had a sudden urge—apropos of nothing—to just ask him to sleep with her. It was a risk, yes. But not knowing how Seth Bishop’s flesh would feel pressed to hers seemed like a risk, also. She imagined herself saying something like, “We’re both attracted, so do you want to skip all the usual preliminaries and come home with me?” The thought made her smile.
And then, over one of his shoulders, she saw the mailman at the door. “Oh—” she gasped, feeling suddenly flustered. “The mail. The papers. I forgot.”
He leaned away, looking as affected as she at what might have been a near kiss, then he pursed his lips as if suppressing a full-fledged grin, his eyes dancing with awareness. “Good,” he deadpanned. “For the last few minutes I’ve done nothing but wonder what was happening in the world at large.”
Clearly, that had been the least thing on his mind. “Me, too,” she agreed. Laughing, she playfully swatted him as she stood, swinging her hips more than necessary as she headed for the front door to meet the postman.
“Here’s two packages you need to sign for,” he said. “And all today’s papers.” After she’d signed, she took the parcels inside, set them on the reception desk, then looked at the front page of the Post and groaned. “Great,” she muttered. At least the subject matter wasn’t Julia. But maybe this was worse. Lorenzo Santini was buck naked in a locker room, and pretty well hung, Edie thought, judging by the size of the soft-focus fuzzy area meant to mask his private parts. He was deeply engaged in conversation with a woman other than his fiancée, and the headline said Darden Wedding Called Off? Why hadn’t Pete Shriver called to let Edie know?
“I really can’t believe this,” she murmured, distracted when Seth sidled behind her. Nothing more than feeling Seth’s chest brushing her back, the scent of his cologne and his breath on her neck was enough to make her forget the Darden wedding entirely, even though it had been her sole obsession for months. Seth really was just too good to be true. When Pete Shriver checked his references, he’d done so to protect the interests of his own client, Julia, but Edie was benefitting, also. How many women had a top-notch professional check out a potential boyfriend, after all?
More than potential, Edie decided as she turned toward Seth. He was close enough that she was nearly in his arms. The air between them spiked with raw heat.
“You know how I told you about Vinny Marcel?” she said, turning the Post so that Seth could see the photograph and headline. “The videographer from Rate the Dates who exposed how Marley took my place on the show?” she clarified.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, I mention Vinny because there’s only one person I hate more than Vinny, for making my life a living hell.”
“And he is?”
“A guy named Jimmy Delaney.”
Suddenly, his sexy dark-eyed gaze seemed so intense that Edie felt as if the air had just been sucked from the room. “You’ve heard of him.” Angling his head, he leaned closer and for a second, she was sure he was going to kiss her now. Instead of answering, he said huskily, “Why don’t we talk about all this over dinner? I’m starved.”
Slowly, she licked her lips, staring into eyes that were but a hand’s breadth away. “Sure. I’m starved, too.” For you, she added silently, suddenly thinking she might really proposition him tonight.
3
“I HEAR WHAT YOU’RE SAYING,” Seth began after they’d crossed Hudson Street and had claimed a back booth at a place called Hunan Pan, ordering a sampler platter that included various Chinese dishes they could share. “But—” he turned the newspaper around on the table-top, so she could look at it again “—Jimmy Delaney wasn’t the photographer.”
Surprised, Edie edged the paper toward the flickering flame from a candle on the table and squinted, so she could see in the dim light of the restaurant. “He wasn’t?”
“No. It was some guy named Jack Stevens.”
“Really?” Edie could barely believe it, but when she ducked her head and peered more closely, to read the byline, she saw Seth was right. She shook her head. “Most pictures of this sort have been