Saturday
Roark Turner glanced around the wedding venue. The outdoor affair had turned out rather well. William and Annie had a lovely ceremony, and now the reception was moving along nicely. No major hiccups Roark had noticed, and after going to as many of these as he had in the last few years, he learned quickly how to spot them.
His quasi-date, Stephanie, had outdone herself again. Of course she had. Stephanie was one of the best wedding planners in town.
Roark took a deep breath, realizing the smells of the barbecue—catered by his buddy, Jason Gregorian—had overtaken the aromas of the bouquets on the reception tables.
He shook his head, then sipped on his coffee. There were wonderful benefits to having a sensitive nose. But there were also severe drawbacks. Like losing the smell of flowers to the smell of barbecue, that…
Did he put beer in the sauce? Bourbon? Both?
Roark shook his head. Jason did weird things to his barbecue. But everyone seemed to love it—the line at the food tables wove around the side of the seating, the guests ready for a bite.
“So, how do you think it’s going?” Stephanie asked, plopping down into the chair next to him. Her blonde hair, bundled into a twist, had pieces falling around her face. She let out a puff of air, blowing a few strands out of her eyes.
Roark reached into his pocket and pulled out the energy shot he’d been holding for her. “Good. I think I would have parked the barbecue pit a little further away…”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Only you would complain about not being able to smell the flowers.” She downed the energy shot in a couple of gulps. “You sure you’re not gay?” She elbowed him.
He picked up his cup, raising his pinky finger. “Not at all, dahling.”
Her grin, broad and wide, showed off her beautiful teeth, and he couldn’t help taking in every detail of her face—from the sparkle in her eye makeup highlighting her moss-green eyes to a similar sparkle from the gloss on her rose-colored lips.
And in a flash, a hardcore buzz hit him—the one he felt whenever he was attracted to someone—though this was more intense than he’d ever experienced before.
Roark gritted his teeth, forcing down the thoughts. This was Stephanie, after all. His best friend since before time. They met in the sandbox in kindergarten when she stole his shovel and he dumped sand on her feet. They’d been friends ever since.
“Thanks for coming today,” she said, setting the energy shot on the table and resting her hand on his. The simple contact shot straight to his groin, and he pulled away.
What was the matter with him? Stephanie never created such a reaction in him. He wondered what was in his coffee, because he didn’t respond like that to her… She was…
She was beautiful, no doubt about it. She was sweet when she wanted to be, and as close to him as Jason and Bruce were. Why would he suddenly feel so intensely for her?
A buzz came from Stephanie, and she pressed her finger against her ear. That was when he noticed her Bluetooth headset. “Yes, I’m on my way.” She stood, and if she realized he’d pulled his hand away, she didn’t say anything. “Gotta run. One of the bridesmaids got barbecue on her dress and is about to go ballistic.”
“Go, have fun,” Roark said with a laugh, trying to hide any strange thoughts.
“Always. Save me a dance later?”
“You mean you get to have fun while you’re working?”
“Occasionally.” Stephanie darted away, disappearing into the crowd to solve this dilemma. Then onto the next one. And the next. Until the reception was over and the cleanup had all been done.
He wouldn’t get a dance with her, even if he wanted to.
And today, he wanted to.
What was up with that?
“I am going to strangle Cupid,” Christy said, floating around the wedding, zapping the little cherubs who worked for the ornery Roman god. And they were everywhere, too. How would this throw off the contest? Cupid’s minion zapping her charge before she could cast her first spell.
And she had a good one, too. Knock over Roark’s coffee cup so he’d need assistance cleaning up. Allow Stephanie some alone time with Roark. Let the sparks fly. Christy didn’t have to look at Roark’s file to know that Stephanie was the woman for him. The woman obviously cared for him a great deal, and he for her. Christy had been relieved as soon as she saw the sparks between the two of them—it should be nothing to fan those sparks into flames of love and HEA.
At least, that was her first intention.
Now Roark was overwhelmed with those sparks, amplified a hundred times more than necessary. And he was repressing them. It was going to make him sick soon. Her charge got up and headed out of the wedding to wander around the garden.
“Cupid, I hate you,” Christy snapped.
“Now that is not a very loving thing to say, Fairy Godmother,” Cupid said, materializing beside her. And he was rather handsome—no diaper and wings, like so many human depictions. Those were his minions. Cupid himself was tall, blond, and just as handsome as many of the other gods and goddesses on Mount Olympus.
“Your minions shot arrows at our new charges!” She gestured at Ava, who was hanging out around the barbecue pit, batting away minions as they approached and probably having too much fun punching the annoying little cherubs in the wings. Lilly stood across the way, blasting yellow magic dust everywhere while she sent more minions scurrying away as Bruce snapped pictures of the bride and groom.
Cupid laughed. “So? What would your little challenge be, if it was simply being left to your own devices? There is no difficulty in that at all.”
Christy seethed. “How you know about our private affairs is a bit more important to me.”
Cupid grinned. “Because I’m a god. You are merely a Fairy Godmother.”
Another whisper of smoke appeared on Christy’s other side. Her husband, Ewan Molar, stepped to Christy, his hand on his wife’s shoulder.
Cupid looked the man up and down.
“Cupid,” Ewan said, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Tooth fetcher.”
Ewan started to step forward. Christy put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Do not engage him, honey. That is what he wants.”
Cupid grinned again. “This is going to be so much fun…” And with a wave of his hand, he disappeared, all of his minions vanishing with him.
“I abhor that being,” Christy said.
Ewan stroked her shoulder. “When this is done, you can retire. And we’ll be done dealing with Cupid.”
“Yes, when this is over, we retire.”
Ewan kissed her cheek. “I have to go. Work.”
Christy looked around for her charge. “Yes, I think I need to, too. Clean up the damage Cupid’s already caused.”
“Have fun. Love you, wife.” Ewan squeezed her hand, then disappeared to go collect the latest teeth in his sector.
“Love you too,” Christy said, making her way to find Roark and see how much damage had been done before she got the arrow out.