Wooing The Wedding Planner. Amber Leigh Williams
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pastry reference. “We both imbibed a little too much but not enough to lose our sensibilities.” She refrained from mentioning his kiss. She was still trying to riddle through the consequences. Of Byron’s mouth. On hers. “He wound up staying overnight, on the floor. Like a gentleman.”
“Good,” Adrian said. “Byron’s a family friend, but I could still kick his ass. Or we could get Liv to sit on him. Either way.”
Olivia cocked her head at Adrian. “He can get in line.”
“What does any of this have to do with Richard, though?” Adrian asked.
“Before we went to bed—separately—I talked to him about maybe reconciling with Richard,” Roxie explained. She tiptoed over any mention of Byron’s marriage and his wife’s death—it was clearly a part of his life he wanted to keep private. Respecting that was easy. If she could’ve found some way to keep the breakup of her own marriage less public, she’d have done it in a heartbeat.
“What did he have to say about it?” Adrian prompted.
“He cautioned me against it at first,” Roxie said. “But in the end he suggested I speak to Richard about it in person.”
“Will you?”
“Yes.” Roxie nodded. “As soon as he gets back from...wherever it is he’s been for the last few months.”
“Why?” Olivia asked. She threw up her hands. “I’m sorry, but I’m not on board. The ink on the marriage license was hardly dry before he slept with someone else. Before he slept with your sister. That takes scumbaggery to a whole new level.”
It had been the deepest betrayal Roxie could have ever imagined. She’d cried. For months, she’d cried alone in the apartment above the tavern. She’d taken little with her but the purple settee from their French Colonial after toying with the idea of setting fire to the whole thing. Dousing gasoline over the Aubusson rug where she’d found Richard and Cassandra coupling had been so tempting.
There was no way she could go back to that house. If they were going to start over...if they both wanted to start over and fight for all that they had built over the last decade, they would need a clean slate.
“Listen,” Roxie said carefully, “I know you both think it’s foolish.” Adrian had said nothing but her reticence was answer enough. “And maybe it is. But I read this study recently about couples who decide to stay together and work for their relationship after a spouse strays once. Just once. The majority managed to make it stick.”
“Once a cheat, always a cheat,” Olivia opined.
Adrian sighed. “I’m sorry, but I agree with Liv for once. I always thought it was common sense that once someone cheated, they were likely to do it again.”
“Richard was never a cheater, though,” Roxie said.
“People change,” Olivia told her. “I’m usually the one who would tell you to go for it, but, Roxie, we were all here last March. We saw how devastated you were.”
“We just don’t want that to happen to you again,” Adrian added.
“If it does, we’ll have to kill him,” Olivia said. “Gerald hid my firearms after we found out about the babies, but I’ve still got my bat, and I think Richard could do without his kneecaps under the circumstances.”
Roxie let out a laugh. “God, you’re wonderful. You’re all so wonderful. I love the concern and initiative. But you know what they say about regret. I can’t go the rest of my life not knowing if I let go of the person I’m supposed to be with.”
“Can I ask you?” Adrian said, narrowing her eyes. “Do you love him?”
“Byron asked me the same thing. And the answer is yes—on some level, I do. I can’t be sure if it’s enough to sustain us, or if he feels enough for me to want to start over.”
“It’s your call,” Adrian determined. “Do what you have to do. Whichever way it goes, at least you’ll finally have closure.”
Roxie nodded. Closure. That was what she’d been missing for the last year. It was no good hanging in emotional limbo. No matter how often she’d told herself to move on, the hollowness inside had kept her tethered in the murky in-between.
Olivia frowned. “Well, damn. I had a whole list of ill-advised rebound candidates to throw at you.”
Roxie arched a brow. “You weren’t upset when you thought I’d rebounded with Byron. That was you playing Marvin Gaye on the jukebox after tavern hours all night last night. I know it was.”
The Cheshire cat grin sat well on Olivia’s face. “I do feel a bit bad now about telling everybody you two did the hot dog dance.”
“Thanks for that,” Roxie replied.
A Jeep pulled up next to the ATV. The driver’s window rolled down and James Bracken leaned out in dark sunglasses and a devastating grin. “Howdy.”
“What are you doing here?” Olivia asked as Adrian softened. Every bit of her softened as she shaded her face with her hand against the brightening sun.
James jerked a shoulder. “I offered to head out and inform you that we menfolk have successfully thrown together a breakfast fit for a queen. Or four, in this case.”
Adrian’s smile turned knowing. She gave a laugh. “You bailed.”
“Bailed?” James’s grin faltered somewhat. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, right!” Olivia said, catching on. She picked up another éclair. “You totally bailed on Cole and Gerald.”
James pursed his lips. He took off his ball cap and combed his fingers back through his thick brown hair. His colorful sleeve of tattoos flashed vividly. “They’ve got it handled. Cole managed to fry up eggs and sausage and sweet-talk Harmony into staying at the table. She smeared bananas all over the place, but she ate and not one of us said a word about the mess.” He pulled off his sunglasses and began to clean them with the edge of his shirt. “Then there’s Gerald.” He sent Olivia an impressive look. “It’s only three weeks in, but the man’s earned all the daddy badges there are to earn. Burping, changing, rocking. It’s like watching the Daddy Olympic games.”
“And Kyle?” Adrian asked, referring to her and James’s eight-year-old son.
“I helped him and Gavin haul the crab traps out of the water,” James told her, replacing his sunglasses and hooking a meaty arm through the open window. “Then I offered to let them tag along. But they wanted to stay behind and get to know their catch before we release them back into the wild. I expect all the crabs’ll be named after Marvel villains before we get back.”
“We?” Olivia asked. “Think again, mister. Your woman here doesn’t need rescuing.”
James tilted his head at his wife. The corner of his mouth moved. It was a nonverbal come-hither that nearly made Roxie’s weary feet move in double-time. “I could persuade her. It’s not rescuing if there’s persuasion involved. Ain’t that right, lil’ mama?”
Adrian looked as if she were fighting laughter. Warmth flooded her features. She walked to the open window and angled her face up to his. “Any other day, you wouldn’t have had to stop. You could’ve just slowed down, and Roxie and I would’ve jumped into the backseat and you’d be peeling out of here.”
“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater,” Olivia rhymed, polishing off the remnants of the éclair.
Though his chin came to rest on his folded arms, James eyed Olivia over the crown of Adrian’s head. “Isn’t it ‘Peter, Peter?’”
“You need to take your peter home,” Olivia informed him, crude. She brushed her hands together to remove the icing. “Save it for your redhead later.”
“Hey,” James said, feigning