4
“OKAY, KIDS, let’s see some enthusiasm!”
“I don’t feel enthusiastic about beer at ten o’clock in the morning,” Justin said, staring into the oversize stein.
Hayley cast a look at the photographer, brochure designer, bridal fair representative, the store manager of the boutique that had donated clothes for the his-and-hers trousseaux, her mother, sisters and the beaming proprietor of the trendy Beale Street nightclub where they were having their picture taken in a “natural” setting, and hoisted her beer. “I do.” And she proceeded to demonstrate by downing a third of her mug.
The photographer snapped her picture. “Fabulous, Hayley. Now, Sloane, try to look less disapproving and more with it.”
“Of course he disapproves,” Lola said from beyond camera range. “A lady drinking beer.” She shuddered.
“It’s imported, Mama,” Hayley said.
“Sure—from Colorado,” Justin murmured.
Hayley drank more, even though they hadn’t set up the next picture.
“Careful,” he said. “We’ve got two more bar stops before lunch.”
Hayley gazed directly at him. “I’m counting on it.”
For a free wedding, Hayley was certainly working hard. She’d already changed clothes three times since eight o’clock this morning, but this was her first beer. It wasn’t going to be her last.
In addition to several large prizes, Hayley’s wedding had consisted of many modest donations, and each was acknowledged in the brochure. For instance, this little nightspot had donated dinner for two, valued at twenty-five dollars. That meant it would be combined with a modeling session and entitled to a quarter-page ad in the brochure, but nothing on the video.
In contrast, Betty’s Bridal Barn had donated the wedding dress. Hayley and Sloane would appear on the cover of the brochure and in the video, and Betty’s Bridal Barn would be the featured exhibitor at the next Memphis Bridal Fair.
The wedding dress. Hayley silently moaned, and downed the rest of her beer. She’d need several more to be able to deal with that dress.
“Hayley, dear,” her mother cautioned.
“It’s not like I drank it straight out of the bottle, Mama.”
“I should hope not.”
Mrs. Pederson, the bridal fair representative, clapped her hands. “Okay, people, listen up. Hayley, put on the black floral, and we’ll go ring shopping.”
Hayley desperately wished for another beer.
She looked at Justin, who eyed her warily.
He’d eyed her warily ever since she’d smiled at him this morning.
Well, did he think he could just go around kissing women until they melted like chocolate in the hot sun, and not expect them to smile at him?
She propped her elbow on the table, leaned her chin on her knuckles and whispered, “Don’t worry. I know it’s all fake.”
“Do you? We’re talking diamonds here.”
“No, we’re not. We’re talking kisses.”
“Are we?”
He looked so unnerved that Hayley laughed, though inside she was depressed.
Sometime during the night, between the time she finally went to sleep and the time she stood in front of the closet in her suite at the Peabody and wondered what to wear, she’d realized that Justin was the only man she’d met in the past several years whom she could visualize marrying. She didn’t think his appeal was solely due to the two kisses they’d shared, though she’d have to experience more kisses to be absolutely certain.
She had to keep reminding herself that she really didn’t know him, even though she felt as if she did. Her feelings were all jumbled with him. It was probably because she was doing everything backward—planning a wedding with a near stranger when she’d never even discussed the idea with other men.
Justin managed a strained laugh and pasted a smile over his uneasiness. “I thought we were talking diamonds.”
“That would be great, too.” She didn’t have to force a relaxed, frankly longing smile. Anyone seeing it would think it was merely a look exchanged between a bride and her groom.
Only Hayley knew it wasn’t acting.
Justin looked green—maybe he suspected she wasn’t acting, either. No, of course he didn’t suspect. The green must have come from the sun shining through the stained-glass window sign.
“Hayley?” Her sisters beckoned.
Why were they hanging around anyway? Hayley grumbled to herself. They didn’t have to show up until the bridesmaids’ luncheon at noon.
“We’re going shopping,” Gloria announced. “When I told Ms. Winfield how much I adored this little black dress of yours, she offered Laura Jane and me discounts at her store. Wasn’t that just precious of her?”
“Yes, it was.” Hayley bestowed a beaming smile on Ms. Winfield, grateful to be spared the presence of her sisters during the selection of the ring.
It was bad enough that her mother would be there. Not only would Lola equate the size of the diamond Justin selected with the size of Sloane’s affection and the quality with the quality of his upbringing, she would use the stone to gauge their future solidarity as a couple and the social standing to which they might aspire.
The engagement ring was fraught with symbolism. She knew her mother had been very concerned that Sloane hadn’t given Hayley one yet.
She changed into the black dress in the ladies’ room of the bar. This whole exercise was academic. She couldn’t afford a diamond ring, even at thirty percent off. Or fifty.
She needed a new watchband. Maybe she’d use her thirty-percent-off coupon for that.
The staff at Robertson’s Fine Jewelry was waiting for them. Crystal vases with fresh roses sat on the counters where spotlights made the rings sparkle.
The bridal fair people had made Justin change clothes, too, and he now wore a sport coat over a white open-throated shirt. He stood by her as they watched the preparations, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back.
The perfect fiancé.
“What? No panic attack at the sight of all these engagement rings?” she murmured under her breath.
As he usually did when she spoke softly, Justin bent his head down before responding.
Hayley had taken to murmuring quite a bit lately.
“I’m not the one who’s going to be stuck with the bill.”
“Not this time.”
“Not for a long time,” he stressed.
Justin had alluded to his desire to remain a bachelor before. “What have you got against marriage, anyway?” she asked.
“Not a thing—when the time is right And the time won’t be right for at least two more years.”
“Why two years?”
“Because I’ve promised myself two years of fun and games before I turn respectable.”
“Don’t look now, but you are respectable.”
“Yeah, I know.” He grimaced. “I’m working on that.”
Did all men her age think this way? If so, no wonder she couldn’t find a groom. They were all in their irresponsible phases. “So how do you know you’ll be ready for marriage in two years?”
“I don’t. What I’m saying is that I won’t be ready before then.”
“What if you meet somebody?”
Justin chuckled. “That’s the plan. I want to meet lots of somebodies.”
“I mean the right somebody.” Like, say, me.
He shrugged. “Then she’ll have to be patient.”
“While you play around?”
“She can play around, too.”
Hayley gaped. She couldn’t tell if he was serious, or practicing his irresponsibility. His grin widened and her eyes narrowed. “Just for that, I’m going to pick the smallest diamond Robertson’s has got mounted and tell Mama that’s the one you’ve given me.”
“You do that, and I’ll have a five-carat ring sized and engraved before you can say ‘ten-percent restocking fee.’”
“Sloane? Hayley?” Ms. Pederson beckoned. “Mr. Robertson, himself, is going to help you.”
It was Hayley’s turn to paste on a fake smile.
As the camera people set up the lights, Hayley’s mother herded the extra sales staff and bridal fair personnel away from the rings. “These young people have an important decision to make. After all, they’re choosing more than a piece of mere jewelry.”
With that, Lola draped herself against the display case featuring rings of less than a carat, fixing her future son-in-law with a gaze that implied those would be of no interest to him. Mr. Robertson headed hopefully toward the other end housing the rings with larger stones.
Hayley hesitated, finding she was curious to see what Justin would do. She looked up at him.
He slipped his arm around her waist. “If I were buying a ring today, naturally I’d select from your loose stones,” he said to Mr. Robertson. “But I’d planned to give my wife the ring left to me by my aunt.”
“I thought your parents were only children,” Lola said.
“She was my great-aunt, actually,” Justin smoothly improvised. “But I called her Aunt. Unfortunately I haven’t had the opportunity to retrieve the ring from the safety deposit box and have it cleaned and the setting checked.” He smiled down at Hayley. “I’m sure Hayley will be happy to model any ring you’d care to feature in your advertising.”
An heirloom. Even her mother couldn’t object to an heirloom. How very clever he was. She never would have known it after all the nonsense he’d spouted about becoming irresponsible.
“Have you already selected the wedding bands, then?” asked a visibly disappointed Mr. Robertson.
Even with the coupon, he would have made money on the sale of an engagement ring, as well as getting credit for a donation.
“It will be difficult to choose wedding rings without seeing the engagement ring next to them,” Hayley said. “I might have to return them.”
“Return your wedding rings after the ceremony?” Lola sounded scandalized. Hayley knew she wouldn’t get away without purchasing wedding rings.
“May I suggest something simple?” Mr. Robertson unlocked a display case and brought out a black velvet tray of rings. “A band of diamonds, perhaps?”
In your dreams, buddy.
“Hayley, Sloane, could we get a picture of you two looking at the rings with Mr. Robertson? We have a noon luncheon scheduled.” Ms. Pederson positioned them in front of the glittering tray and pulled Lola out of the way.
“Hayley, those look real sweet,” Lola called.
“Sweet” meant not big enough. Stunning was the word Lola hoped to say.
Hayley didn’t like the rings anyway. They were too frilly, too ornate. Too not her.
“Would you show us that tray, please?” Justin pointed. He looked at Hayley assessingly. “You look like a gold person to me.”
Hayley nodded as Mr. Robertson brought out the tray of gold bands and silently placed them on the counter.
“There is strength in simplicity,” Justin said. “And the statement made by a solid gold band is a powerful one.” His fingers hovered over the tray, bypassing the carved and etched bands, the chunky nugget bands and the multicolored bands to select a set of flat, polished circles of gold, not too thin and not too wide.
Exactly the ones Hayley would have picked. “They’re perfect,” she said, smiling up at him. Their eyes met and she momentarily forgot that this was all just pretend.
She was reminded when the camera flashed.
“Perfect!” shouted the brochure lady. “You just can’t fake a look like that.”
“Little does she know,” Justin said.
“Yeah,” Hayley agreed hollowly.
HAYLEY WAS REUNITED with her sisters at the bridesmaids’ luncheon. It was lavishly elegant with bouquets of fresh flowers and corsages for the women. The food was exquisite, the champagne flowing—and when the necessary pictures had been taken, the photographer and the others also ate lunch.
The bill was horrendous.
Hayley was discovering that she couldn’t afford her “free” wedding.
As planned, Justin excused himself to use the telephone, then returned with a worried look.
“Sloane, is everything all right?” Lola asked before Hayley could.
“The El Baharis are insisting on a meeting next week,” he said. “I should be there.”
“Well, that’s just plain impossible.” Lola poohpoohed the thought. “You’ll be on your honeymoon cruise.”
Justin rubbed his jaw. “We may have to postpone the honeymoon.”
“Just—” Hayley nearly slipped. “Just tell them to reschedule their meeting.”
“You don’t tell the El Bahari royalty when to call a meeting,” Justin snapped.
“And you don’t ask a bride to postpone her honeymoon,” Laura Jane declared, standing up for her sister.
“My husband wouldn’t have even considered it,” added Gloria with one of her sultry looks.
“Your husband wasn’t working overseas,” Hayley said.
“Well, if he had been, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to stay away for long.”
“Unfortunately, my schedule isn’t that flexible,” Justin said.
Lola sent a secretive glance toward. Hayley. “You may find that after the wedding, you’ll desire to make it more flexible.”
“Desire has nothing to do with it,” Justin replied.
“Desire has everything to do with it.”
If Hayley could get through the next two days without strangling someone—especially herself—then she ought to register at Lawrence Taylor’s acting and modeling studio, because she obviously had great untapped acting talent. She put her hand on Justin’s arm and a pouting expression on her face. “Sloane, are you sure you have to postpone the honeymoon?”
Justin smiled a smile that was obviously meant to appear conciliatory. “Actually, it wouldn’t be postponing as much as shortening it.”
“How short?” Hayley asked.
“I should leave Monday or Tuesday.”
Boy, he was good. Hayley looked at the stunned faces of her mother and sisters, and pasted on a shocked expression, as well.
Lola recovered first. “That’s...that’s not to be considered. That’s...”
“Sloane and I will discuss this later,” Hayley informed her. “In private.”
“There shouldn’t be anything to discuss,” Lola said with a look that told Hayley she was to stand her ground.
Hayley sent her a bravely determined smile back.
This acting stuff was fun.
THIS ACTING BUSINESS was not fun at all.
“You want us to wear what?” Hayley and Justin were now at the lingerie store where she and her mother had purchased the rainbow of love. Because it was the day before Valentine’s Day, the store was crowded as shoppers—mostly men—decimated the red and white displays.
Everyone from her sisters to the store manager thought it would be cute to have Hayley wear men’s pajama tops and Sloane wear the bottoms as they posed in the furniture store that had donated a bedroom set.
“Oh, come on. It’ll be so cute,” the brochure lady wheedled.
After a glance at Justin’s impassive face, Hayley sent a questioning look to her mother. Her sisters were busy adding to their own rainbows of love. Hayley noticed that they both bought black.
“Silk pajamas are more modest than some of the other selections,” Lola pointed out, gesturing to a filmy white negligee.
“You’ll be in the bed,” Ms. Pederson added.
Oh, terrific.
And was Justin helping? Of course not.
“I don’t mind,” he said.
“Yes, you do,” Hayley said.
He held the pajama top up to her. “No, I don’t.”
He grinned, a lazy, molten grin, and Hayley’s mouth went dry.
“It’s settled, then,” Ms. Pederson announced.
As SOON AS HAYLEY EMERGED from the furniture store rest room, Justin knew he was going to pay, and pay dearly for teasing her.
He hadn’t liked looking like a jerk about the honeymoon, even though Sloane was the jerk. But to these people, he was Sloane, and it rankled. So he’d agreed to the “pajama games,” though he could tell Hayley wasn’t comfortable with the idea.
And now he was paying.
After tossing her hair over her shoulder, Hayley walked barefooted toward him, wearing the top half of the cherry red silk pajamas to which he wore the bottom half.
She self-consciously pushed up the too-long sleeves and pulled up the shoulder, which had a tendency to slither to one side.
She looked...cute, in a dangerously marriageable way. Ross’s exact words. Except when the shoulder slipped, and then she just looked sexy.
Every male in the place was watching her and she didn’t even notice. The camera guy had nearly dropped his camera. Hurry up and get over here, Hayley.
The hem rippled against the top of her thighs as she walked.
She had legs.
He’d known she had legs, but he hadn’t known she had those legs.
HER KNEES WERE SHAKING.
Please let me make it over to the bed without falling.
Hayley tried to draw a breath and found that her lungs didn’t fit her chest anymore.
Every woman in the entire bridal fair retinue, including Hayley’s mother, was staring at Justin—or Sloane.
If they hadn’t before, every woman in the entire bridal fair retinue now envied Hayley.
Laura Jane had to physically restrain Gloria. Lola fanned herself with her pocketbook.
Ms. Pederson repositioned the camera for a close-up. The brochure lady found an excuse to take light readings right next to him.
Justin and his casually muscled chest, his glorious shoulders and flat stomach, appeared oblivious to all.
Single women of Memphis, watch out.
Hayley was jealous of these legions of women Justin planned to date. Why wouldn’t he date her?
Because he didn’t want to date just one woman, that’s why, and she wasn’t going to humiliate herself by waiting around while he played the field.
He’d been depressingly clear and up-front about his intentions.
Hayley had another day to make him regret those intentions. It might not be impossible, she thought. He was watching her, his blue eyes following her every movement.
It would help if she knew what he was thinking.
SURELY SHE HAD on underwear.
Yes, but what sort of underwear?
Lacy underwear, skimpy underwear, see-through underwear. Underwear with hearts cut out in interesting places. Underwear he couldn’t figure out After thirty minutes in a lingerie shop, he’d seen it all.
He didn’t want to think about underwear, specifically about Hayley in underwear, but it was better than thinking about her in bed, which was where they’d be mere moments from now.
“Where’s the breakfast tray?” The woman from the advertising agency producing the brochure—Emily? Emma?—gestured to the store manager, one of the men who’d been ogling Hayley.
She reached them, smiled a quick little smile and tucked her hair behind her ear. She was nervous.
He drew his arm around her waist in a protective gesture that was more automatic than acting.
She had on underwear.
But not much.
BREATHE.
His hand burned where it skimmed her waist, dipped below, then curved back up.
Try to act natural.
What was natural about being dressed in skimpy pj’s in the display window of a furniture store with her sisters, her mother and a camera crew looking on?
Not to mention the gorgeous, half-naked man with his arm around her.
There was, unfortunately, nothing natural about that, either.
“Okay, you two, get in the bed and we’ll arrange the tray.”
Justin lifted the comforter of the overly decorated bed. Hayley shoved a few dozen pillows aside and slid in all the way to the far side.
Justin climbed in after her, leaving an entire continent between them.
“Oh, come on. Cuddle up!”
Hayley scooted toward the middle at the same time Justin did. They collided in a wave of cotton and silk.
“Perfect. Let’s see if the tray will fit over both of you.” The brochure lady tried to balance a breakfast tray with empty dishes and some fake croissants. “Can you get closer?”
They were supposed to be two people in love—two people in love who’d been apart for months—two people in love who were getting married in twenty-four hours.
They should be acting like they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, not like they’d just met.
The problem here, Hayley thought as she slid closer to Justin and felt his thigh press against hers, was that they knew they’d just met. They should be feeling awkward with the forced intimacy, but they’d also shared a couple of blockbuster kisses with the result that Hayley was having a really, really hard time not running her hands and mouth all over him.
To make this look good for her mother and sisters, she ought to look like she was enjoying herself more, shouldn’t she?
“There.” The brochure lady wedged the tray over their legs. “It just fits.”
“They look crowded,” Ms. Pederson said. “But whatever you do, don’t cover up his chest.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” The brochure lady looked flushed.
“Here.” Justin flashed a smile at Ms. Pederson, at the same time maneuvering his arm around Hayley. “How’s that?”
“Great,” Ms. Pederson said with an envious smile.
It’s better than great. It’s fabulous. Wonderful. Life altering. Hayley sighed and settled against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
This felt way too good. She inhaled a familiar scent—they’d used the same soap last night at the hotel, but it smelled a little different on Justin than it did on her.
He was warm, he was solid, he smelled good, and he was running his fingers lightly against her arm.
Did he know? Was it on purpose? Was he acting?
Did it matter?
The camera lights came on and the furniture store’s display designer fussed with the comforter and pillows, arranging them around Hayley and Justin.
“Hon, can you move your head just a smidge lower?” the designer asked. “That way, the carving in the headboard will show.”
No problem, Hayley thought.
It was warm under the comforter and lights. Justin’s chest took on a sheen.
Hayley blew softly and he flinched, his thigh hardening against hers.
“What was that for?” he asked.
For heaven’s sake, there was an acre of muscled male chest right in front of her face. What was a girl to do? “You looked hot.”
“I am—and I don’t need more heat from you.”
“Why, Ju—Sloane. Are you saying I make you hot?” Without raising her head she looked up, feeling his skin beneath her cheek.
He blinked down at her, and she knew he was trying to figure out whether she was talking to him or to Sloane. Trying to figure out how she wanted him to respond.
Hayley knew exactly how she wanted him to respond and it wasn’t appropriate for this situation at all.
And according to Justin and his two-year-plan, it wouldn’t be appropriate anytime soon.
He continued to look at her, his expression unreadable, but before he could answer, the camera clicked. The whine of the auto advance drowned out the whispers of the people gathered around watching the photo shoot.
“Hayley, now feed Sloane the croissant.”
“It’s plastic.” Justin picked it up and dropped it back onto the plate where it bounced.
“I don’t expect you to eat it.” The brochure lady laughed as though Justin had been terribly witty. “We’re just pretending.”
“Are we?” Justin glanced down at Hayley.
“Of course we are,” she said, because that’s what he wanted to hear. Sitting up, she took the croissant and held it to his mouth. “Why wouldn’t we be?”