Win, Lose...Or Wed!. Melissa McClone
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conversation because she could barely string two sentences together.
“You sent her home after that date.”
“I did.” Jace recalled the blonde’s collagen-enhanced pout when he sent her packing. “I should have done it sooner.”
“We were all surprised,” Millie admitted. “She was beautiful.”
“You were all beautiful.”
But he’d had certain specifics he’d needed in a spouse. Charlotte had the looks, but not the brain. Desiree had the looks and brain, but not the heart. Only Millie…
Not going there. Think race. Think million dollars.
He read the travel guide. “The Farmer’s Market is on the corner of Third and Fairfax.”
“That’s a good one.” Millie reread the clue. “Do you know what we need?”
“What?”
She studied the gate area and pointed to an auburn-haired woman in her early twenties, working on a laptop. The attractive woman wore a long brown skirt with slouched boots and a turquoise blouse. Her modified bob haircut looked trendy, not dated. “Her.”
“Why her?”
“She typifies The Groom’s target audience,” Millie explained. “And chances are she’s connected to the Internet.”
Okay, they could use the Internet, but if the woman had watched the show, Jace didn’t want another viewer telling him how stupid his bride choice had been. That’s all he’d been hearing since the finale aired.
When Desiree broke up with him to pursue an acting career, the number of fans telling him via letter, e-mail and blogs he should have picked Millie increased. What people didn’t realize was he knew picking Desiree had been a mistake, but picking Millie would have been worse. “I don’t know, Freckles.”
“Trust me on this.” Anticipation filled her eyes, and he felt torn. “Please.”
“Sure.” He owed her this for her earlier efforts.
Millie’s smile lit up her face. “Come on.”
She approached the woman as if she walked up to strangers to beg a favor every day of her life. Jace’s respect inched upward.
“Excuse me,” she said, in a nonthreatening parent-teacher conference voice. “My name is Millie. You wouldn’t happen to have a wireless connection to the Internet, do you?”
The woman glanced up from her laptop. Her mouth gaped. She snapped it closed. “Millie! Jace. I don’t believe this. I never missed an episode of The Groom. It’s my favorite show.”
Yes. Target audience was dead-on. He owed Millie a hug. Scratch that, a drink.
“That’s great,” Millie said. “Isn’t that great, Jace?”
“Fantastic. It’s nice to meet you.” He shook the woman’s hand. “I’m Jace Westfall and this is Millie Kincaid.”
“Chelsea McKenna.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “I knew the thing with Desiree would never last. You two are meant to be together.”
At least Chelsea hadn’t called him an idiot. Jace forced a grin. “Well, we are together now.”
Millie glanced at him, a warning in her eyes. “We were wondering—”
“Hey, why are we being filmed?” Chelsea peered around them to point at the film crew.
“Millie and I are on another show together.”
“Wow. That’s so cool.” Chelsea brushed her fingers through her hair and smiled at the camera. “It’s like when Amber and Rob did The Amazing Race. Is that the show?”
“We aren’t allowed to tell you which show we’re on, even if you guess the right one,” Jace said.
“Oh, I understand.” Chelsea looked at both of them then back at the camera like a seasoned pro. “Web sites track spoilers for reality shows. I’m sure it would cause problems if everyone knows who won before the show airs.”
Millie nodded.
“Hey—” Chelsea glanced around “—how come there aren’t any other contestants around?”
“That’s the answer we all want to know,” Millie admitted.
“Don’t worry,” Chelsea said. “You guys work too well together not to finish first.”
Jace put his arm around Millie. He’d forgotten how she fit perfectly against him. “That’s what I think, too.”
She jabbed him with her elbow, but he didn’t let go. Instead he held her tighter, closer. Their “target viewer” was obviously willing to help them. As long as she thought they were a couple. “We were hoping to search for some information to figure out where we should go next.”
Chelsea’s purple painted fingernails flew across the keyboard with lightning speed. “What do you want to search for?”
Jace read from the clue card. “Cherry blossoms, irises, apples, Los Angeles.”
The woman typed the words in. “Okay, that was too easy.”
“What did you find?” Millie asked from under his arm.
“An entire page with links to the Los Angeles Art Center.” She hit the return key. “Those three are paintings in the museum.”
Warm satisfaction settled over Jace. Millie had come through again. He gave her a squeeze.
“Do you need directions?” Chelsea asked.
He kind of liked pretending to be a couple, but she kept pulling away from him. “We’d love directions.”
“If you don’t mind,” Millie added.
“Mind a handsome man asking for directions?” Chelsea pulled a sheet of paper and pen from her laptop case. “How did you get so lucky, Millie?”
She took a breath. “I have no idea.”
Was he the only one who heard the irony in her tone?
Chelsea wrote the directions. “Here you go.”
Millie clutched the paper as if it were the Holy Grail. He didn’t blame her. The directions could save them from being sent home. “Thank you so much for all your help.”
“Yes, thank you, Chelsea,” Jace said. “For everything.”
The woman pulled out another piece of paper. “Could I have your autographs?”
Jace reluctantly let go of Millie, jotted a quick note and put his signature beneath it. “That’s the least we can do, isn’t that right?”
“Sure.” Millie signed her name. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Chelsea’s high-voltage smile could power a city for the next three days. “So when’s the big date?”
He exchanged a confused glance with Millie. “You mean for the show’s premiere?”
“No,” Chelsea said. “I mean for your wedding.”
CHAPTER THREE
WHAT was she going to do?
Millie leaned her head back against seat 12B, wedged between Jace in the aisle seat and an elderly woman by the window. Two rows ahead, Zack leaned over his seat, panning the cabin with his camera. She closed her eyes to shut him out.
Run, don’t walk, she’d told Jace this morning. And whatever we do, never look back.
Too bad her game plan had exploded in her face. Escaping the past, not looking back, wasn’t possible. Not when being with Jace meant others would recognize