Greer woke up on Saturday morning at the beach house feeling cozy and happy. She didn’t even mind the soreness between her legs. She knew a very good way to get past that. She leaned over and kissed Ford’s shoulder.
He groaned, turned over, and hugged her close. He was hard against her stomach, but he kept his eyes closed.
“I could get used to waking up at the beach,” she said, and left off the part about how she could get used to waking up with him.
He smiled and kept his eyes closed.
“Okay,” she said, “a few more minutes of snoozing.”
“Mmmhmmm,” he said.
“Then we have to get going,” she whispered.
She rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom and called Macy. She knew she’d be awake at seven A.M. Marriage hadn’t changed the fact that Macy was an early riser. She liked to tend her garden before the heat of the day. Every Saturday Deacon went to the gym at six thirty A.M. and then came home, and they made a big breakfast together.
“Tell me everything,” Macy said.
“At six last night, we had an introductory dinner catered by Co,” Greer said.
“I love Co.”
“It’s fantastic. The curry shrimp was my favorite. And then there was a welcome speech by Henny, the manager at La Di Da.”
“She seems nice.”
“She is. Thank goodness for her because after her speech we had a rules overview by Kiki, who’s sulky and cold. She reminded us that La Di Da’s reputation is on the line, and we’d better be grateful contestants who show a lot of energy and enthusiasm during the media coverage.”
“She’s the Stepford Wives microphone girl from the finalists’ cocktail party?”
“Exactly. After that, we had individual and couples’ interviews with the news station. We did really well, I think.”
“When will those be broadcast?” Macy asked.
“Today at noon.”
“I’ll record it. I can’t wait! Did you two seem like a real bride and groom?” She sounded so hopeful.
Greer laughed. “I think so. Even though everyone knows we’re not actually together. Things are going … well.”
“Well?” Macy squeaked.
“I think so.”
“You sound like you’ve had amazing sex recently. Did you?”
Greer sighed. “I did. In my crazy pink bedroom. And here at the beach.”
Macy actually dropped the phone. There was a big clattering noise. “I’m sorry—it fell. Oh, God, I’m so excited!”
“Don’t get too excited. I mean, we’re having fun, that’s for sure. But I don’t see this going anywhere.”
“I said the same thing about Deacon.”
“Yes, but Ford lives in England. And he might be a father soon. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember. So?”
“So?”
“Nothing is impossible with true love.”
“No one’s said a word about true love!”
“And I’m not pushing you. Only reminding you that love changes everything. And I mean, everything. Now tell me what else happened last night.”
“Okay. At nine o’clock, we played volleyball in the pool, which was lots of fun. I hit Wesley in the head with the ball by accident, and it bounced off and hit Serena in the head. I swear I didn’t mean to do that. They were pretty toasted by that point, so they didn’t care.”
They both laughed.
“And then at ten, we dried off and had a late dessert outside on the porch. It was extra dark. Just a few lanterns were lit low. And it’s because we were listening to a short lecture given by a local turtle expert. She said we need to turn off the lights on the front beach so the turtles feel comfortable coming up on the sand to lay their eggs.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Macy. “Lights out. I’ve heard of that.”
“I had heard that before, too, but it was exciting to actually be there and know that maybe a tortoise was crawling up the beach at that very moment. This morning, we’re going to look for some nests at seven thirty.”
“That’s coming up. How fun!”
“Yes. I need to go in a minute.”
“Okay, but anything else?”
“Nothing, really, except that at one point during the turtle lecture, I thought Ford was playing footsie with me, but then I realized it couldn’t be him because it wasn’t coming from that side. He was on my left. So I pulled my feet in.”
“Who was it?”
“Well, the person sitting across from me was Wesley. But it couldn’t be him, either, for obvious reasons. Or if it was, he must have thought it was Serena’s foot. She was sitting on my right.”
“So you chalked it up to the darkness and the drink and a case of mistaken foot identity?” She could hear the grin in Macy’s voice.
“Exactly. Everyone was getting along extremely well. We had an especially good time with Serena and Wesley. Wesley was very funny, funnier than usual. And Serena was more affectionate with him than I’ve ever seen her. Maybe it was because she was playing for the cameras to win the contest. But I hope it was genuine.”
“I hope so, too.”
“I’m glad you’re giving her the benefit of the doubt,” said Macy. “We could all use that.”
They said their good-byes, and Greer brushed her hair and her teeth. She wouldn’t take a shower until after their turtle expedition.
When she walked quietly back out to the bedroom, she thought about how she and Ford had finally retreated to their rooms at eleven thirty the night before. All the fun of the evening had paled in comparison to the moment he took her face in both hands and kissed her senseless, then pulled down her bikini bottoms and kissed her between her legs while her top was still on and he was crouched in his Hawaiian board shorts.
He’d looked up at one point. “I’ve been wanting to do this all night.”
But she couldn’t speak at that moment.
He went back to work and seconds later, her knees buckled and he had her on the plush carpet. He rolled over her and out of nowhere produced a condom and they had a quick, down-and-dirty coupling that left them both gasping for air.
After that, they slept like babies all night.
The morning sun made diagonal lines on the floor through the blinds. She walked through them, her calves striped with light, and got close to the bed. Ford was lying on his side. He opened an eye. “Thank God you’re not clothed,” he said.
She wasn’t. “I always sleep in the nude.”
He rolled on his back. “I never would have guessed that. You’re so tailored and together by day.”
“I am, but there’s a time and a place for everything, right?”
“Right. Come on over here.”
She did. “We only have ten minutes before we have to be in the kitchen.”
He smiled sleepily. “We can do a lot in ten minutes. Want to try?”
And they did. They arrived only three minutes late, and everyone could tell exactly what they’d been up to, but weren’t they supposed to be lovey-dovey?
The entire weekend was a dream come true, as far as Greer was concerned. She was happy, really happy, and about ninety-nine percent of that was Ford. She posed for him twice in their room. And each time he threw down his paintbrush and grumbled that he couldn’t do anything until he’d made love to her, which he did, quite thoroughly, once on the bed and the other time in the shower.
Early Sunday afternoon, Greer took a peek at the painting. It was almost finished. “It’s been a great weekend,” she said, “and I love that you were able to get in some painting time.”
“I think it’s good,” he said. “But I want it to be better.”
“What could make it better?”
“I don’t know. It feels like whatever it is, is only a little bit beyond my reach.”
She kissed his cheek. “Well, I love it. You made me look beautiful.”
“That was easy. You are.”
But they had to stop talking and get ready. They were supposed to attend an afternoon barbecue, mixing with local residents and the media. It was their third and last public affair. The first had been on Saturday at noon, after the turtle nest hunt. They’d had lunch at the Windjammer, the best beach bar in the South. They got involved in a real volleyball game there and had a blast. And then Saturday night, they attended the grand opening of a bar in downtown Charleston as the special VIP guests. People actually lined a red carpet and threw confetti at them. There were shouts about who their favorites were, and plenty of people yelled, “Hey, Greer and Ford! How’s the engagement going?”
Miss Thing had been at the top of the line, leaning over the velvet rope, more excited than anyone there. So just for her, Greer had kissed Ford in an old-school Hollywood way, with her foot in the air and her arms wrapped around his neck. The hooting and hollering had been deafening, but she’d loved every minute of that kiss.
“You were born to be cherished,” Ford told her in her ear.
“That was nice of you to say,” she whispered back.
It was as if no one else was there.
“I mean it,” he murmured.
And they kissed again, this time quietly and fervently. She felt it in him, his sincerity. And in that moment, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt: she loved him. She was head over heels in love with Ford Smith. When he pulled back, she couldn’t speak.
“You okay?” he asked her.
She nodded, and over his shoulder she saw Miss Thing dabbing at her eyes with her white cotton glove. She was crying. And Greer knew why. Miss Thing had guessed! She knew Greer was in love.
There was nothing to be done about it, was there? She’d enjoy it while she could.
So on Sunday afternoon at the barbecue, she laughed. She chatted. She interacted with many friendly people who’d come out to see the La Di Da couples and give them advice and support. She also bonded even further with her fellow brides. Lisa was having an especially hard time.
“I enjoy having my father here,” Lisa said, when she and Greer were going through the buffet line together, putting cornbread, cole slaw, and pork barbecue on their plates. “But I miss Buck.” Buck was her fiancé.
“It must be so hard,” Greer commiserated.
Ford was at the other end of the line chatting with a bunch of women who’d met him at the bake-off. Together she and he had decided on the way over to sit at different tables and woo double the votes, but then at the last minute, Greer saw Lisa and changed her mind. She wanted to have some girl time with her. She could visit with the voting public after lunch.
Lisa nodded. “It is hard, but we’ll make it through. Only seventy-two days until he gets home.”
Greer was moved by her friend’s devotion. And for the first time, she felt a terrible pang of worry that maybe she shouldn’t try to win the gown. Because if she did, she couldn’t share it with Lisa. Lisa had already said there was no way she could wear it without cutting it down drastically, which would make it impossible for Greer to wear it when she got married because she would never be a size zero.
“Buck’s enjoying seeing you in this contest, isn’t he?” she asked Lisa when they sat down at a picnic table.
Lisa chuckled. “He loves it, and everyone he works with does, too. He’s taking some ribbing because we’ve FaceTimed and it’s been on TV, and he feels like a star in a way. So do I. No matter what happens”—she broke a piece of cornbread in half—“I’ve had a ton of fun. Haven’t you?”
Greer smiled. “I have. I really have. Although”—she looked over at Kiki, who wore a bored expression in the buffet line—“I could do without Kiki’s warnings about how we have to act.”
“Yeah, they’re definitely not just pep talks.” Lisa took a sip of sweet tea. “She’s doing her best to remind us the contest is a marketing ploy, not just a chance for us to enjoy ourselves.”
“Speak of the devil,” said Greer.
Kiki came over with a plate that held a small pile of shredded pork and nothing else. “You ladies need to mingle. Hurry up and finish, why don’t you?”
“We wouldn’t want to skip dessert,” said Lisa. “It’s banana pudding. And this was the only table with room to sit down. Congratulations on hosting such a successful event.”
Kiki lowered her finely plucked brows.
Greer was impressed with Lisa’s diplomacy. She stood. “I’ll get us both some banana pudding, Lisa.” Lisa gave her a thumbs-up, then turned to talk to a couple who were proceeding to sit down at their table. Greer looked at Kiki. “How about you? I can carry three bowls.”
“Not interested,” said Kiki.
“Um, okay,” said Greer, and started to move away, but Kiki turned and touched her arm.
“Don’t forget what Pierre told you,” she murmured.
“I haven’t,” Greer said back in a low tone. “But I intend to try my darnedest to win this thing fair and square. You’d better watch it, Kiki. How do you know I’m not recording you?”
“Who cares? I’ve said nothing wrong. Pierre told you to give the contest your all, that’s all. He asked me to relay that message to all the contestants.” Kiki’s gimlet gaze was annoying, to say the least.
“Isn’t that kind of him?” Greer said. “And how generous of you to help him the way you do. Where is it you’re from, Kiki?”
“Los Angeles.”
“By way of west Texas, right? And I heard a two-bit strip joint loomed large in your professional background.” Kiki opened her mouth to speak, but Greer cut her off. “Hey, I don’t hold that against you. In fact, it makes me wonder why a gal who knows what it’s like to struggle would hang out with a man like Pierre. He’s good at taking women’s money, but he’s not a nice person. Aren’t you afraid he’ll drag you down?”
Kiki lofted one brow. “How is everything at Two Love Lane?”
Greer narrowed her eyes at her. “Peachy,” she said, and took off.
Ugh. The sisterhood angle hadn’t worked. Maybe banana pudding would help her feel better.
When she got back to the table with two heaping helpings of the fluffy, scrumptious Southern concoction, Kiki had disappeared. Lisa and the couple were surrounding an iPhone and chatting to Lisa’s husband in Afghanistan. Lisa turned the phone toward Greer, and she waved. “Hello, there, Buck!”
“Lisa tells me you’re all having fun,” he said. There was a green Army jacket hanging on a wall behind him.
“We sure are,” Greer said. “Wish you could be here.”
“Me, too.” Buck’s earnest face was so cute.
“Only seventy-two days,” she told him, a lump forming in her throat.
“Seventy-one now,” he said with a laugh, and looked at his watch. “It just turned midnight here.”
Lisa was blooming with happiness all through that call. It was such a sweet thing to witness. So when Greer ran into Ford a few minutes later at the La Di Da Bridal hoedown, featuring a team of country dancers—the girls dressed in short bridal gowns and veils, and the guys in jeans and black coattail jackets and bowties, with no shirts—she clapped, hooted, and hollered along with everyone else.
But her heart was back there with Lisa and Buck.
“I can’t let Lisa and Buck’s story change my mind,” she said in Ford’s ear. “I mean, I’d love to lend her the gown if I win, but it won’t work. She’s already said so.”
“They’re a very nice couple,” he said, his eyes still on the dancers, a carefree grin making him so handsome, she wanted to kiss him.
“Is it wrong to want something so much?” she asked him. Was she talking about him or the gown? It was hard to tell. She wanted both of them. Desperately.
He looked at her for a few silent seconds. “It’s human nature,” he said. “You can’t escape wanting. It takes you places, so it’s not a bad thing, usually. You’ve enjoyed yourself in this contest, haven’t you?”
“Yes. So much!”
“Chasing something changes you sometimes.”
“I can see that,” she said.
“But not always for the good. It’s a risk you take.”
“What do you do about wanting something badly?”
“Try not to get consumed by it. Try to outwit it. Stay balanced. But I’ve not had much luck.”
And then the floor opened to the crowd, and he dragged her onto it. She liked how honest he was, and it felt good holding hands with him. He had such a firm, warm grip. Together they did their share of do-si-do-ing, and once they even met Kiki across the floor with her dance partner. Kiki had settled down enough that Greer felt semi-relaxed again.
When the female dancers all switched partners, she found herself for a few seconds with Wesley. She smiled at him. They’d come a long way. And she was happy for him.
“I’m getting cold feet, Greer,” he said, looking right into her eyes. “It’s not like it was when we were together. Maybe I still have feelings for you.”
And then she was swung off to the next man, and the next—a blur of figures and colors, the noise of the fiddle piercing and shrill—until she found herself back with Ford.
“I gotta go,” she whispered, and ran off the floor.