Pretending the kiss hadn’t happened only made her think about it more. Wanting another chance to feel the press of his firm lips against hers. Wondering what it would feel like if he pulled her close and explored her mouth. Deep, satisfying—
“Julie?” Seth’s voice pulled her to the present.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah?”
“I asked where to next?” His smile had a hint of wicked about it.
Focus. Work. Find the maid of honor. Save the wedding. “The end of the hallway is the Westcott Room. Maybe she is in there.”
He led the way to the Westcott Room. The room was long and narrow with a fireplace in the center of the room. Today it was set up as a resting lounge for the ladies. Long couches and high-backed wing chairs were clustered into small groupings. The windows faced out toward the garden where the ceremony was to be held. In the distance, the mountains rose all around.
The only thing missing from the room was Renata. As long as Julie focused on the task at hand, she could put aside the warmth that had filled her at the touch of Seth’s hand on her nape, the press of his firm lips against hers.
“Empty.” Seth plopped down on one of the couches. “What now, boss?”
Julie went over to the window that looked over the gazebo. She could see the other ushers and a few of the family who had started to arrive for pictures. The maid of honor should stand out in her fancy blue bridesmaid’s dress. However, the only blue Julie saw were the bows on the chairs and the flowers.
“Where could she be?” Julie said softly and leaned her forehead against the window. This shouldn’t be so hard. It was a large estate, but Renata knew where she needed to be. It was like she’d vanished into thin air.
“Where else can we look?” Seth’s voice surprised her. He’d moved while she’d been staring out the window. Now he was next to her leaning against a pink floral chair.
“The cellar.” Julie turned from the wedding preparations. She asked him the one thing she’d been wondering, “Tell me, why do you want to ruin this wedding?”
He stiffened as if she’d physically assaulted him. “I’m not trying to ruin it. This is one day. One day in what is supposed to be a lifelong commitment. So what if the flowers are a little wilted or the band plays a wrong note? It’s one day.”
This was what she’d built her life around and the fact that he took it so lightly bothered her. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “One day that’s supposed to be special and unforgettable. One perfect day to begin their lives together. One day you’ve spoiled for your nieces and nephews.”
He stepped toward her. “I don’t spoil anything.”
“Ha! I’ve heard all the stories.” She straightened to her full height, wishing she had a step stool so she could look down her nose at him. She picked out the worst offense. “A dirty limerick about the bride when the minister asked to speak now or forever hold your peace. How was that not ruining her day?”
“You want to do this?” He cocked his eyebrow and she nodded. “The bride thought it’d be funny. We’ve been friends for years. She knew my reputation in the family and dared me to do it.”
“What about the children?”
“Children weren’t invited to the wedding. By the time I finished my limerick, which I spent hours crafting, the entire congregation applauded me and the ceremony went on without a hitch.”
She leaned against the wall again and ticked off another one on her hand. “You glitter bombed your niece and her husband.”
“That was based on a little curiosity because of a YouTube video. Putting glitter in the car’s vents and turning the fan to high, it was too good to pass up. I made sure the photographer was there to capture the moment.” He smiled and moved closer.
“They had to pick glitter out of their car for over a year.” She pressed her hands against the wall to keep from reaching out and pulling him to her.
“Pure hearsay. As a little girl, the bride couldn’t get enough glitter. It was on her clothes and on every art project she ever made my mother—her grandmother. I was just fulfilling her dream of having glitter thrown on her at her wedding.”
“What about the cake?”
He moved slightly closer and the heat of him washed over her like a physical caress. “What about the cake?”
She drew in a deep breath and met his eyes. “Do you deny that you’re the reason every one of your nieces and nephews waits until the last possible moment to bring out the cake for fear of what you’ll do to it?”
“Why would they do that?” His breath fanned her lips, sending skitters of sensation sliding down her back.
She curled her fingers into fists to keep from reaching out. “To keep you from making a giant mess again. From the way they tell it, you were too drunk to stand up straight.”
He had the courtesy to flinch at that one. “Do I drink at weddings? Hell, yes. Everyone does. Have there been a few times I drank a little more than I should have? Definitely, and I’ve had the hangovers to prove it.”
This was everything she was working against. “You are the drunk uncle!”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Every wedding has one. A relative who regardless of who he hurts or offends takes over the wedding when he becomes so drunk he does and says things that shouldn’t be said or done.” Now that she’d gotten on her high horse, Julie needed to get this off her chest. “Do you know how many of those people I’ve had to deal with?”
“How many?” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
She went on like he hadn’t spoken. “They patronize my staff. Think that every shapely bottom needs a pinch or a pat. Don’t get me started on what they think is acceptable to say.”
“You shouldn’t have to put up with that.” His hands squeezed her arms.
“You don’t get it. God, why would you?” She licked her lips and focused on his eyes and not on how close he was. “You are the drunk uncle. If I don’t run interference, what happens? It’s the bridesmaid who gets pinched or the mother of the groom and then it’s a whole fiasco. My whole purpose is to make sure the bride and groom have the day they always wanted without the crap they put up with on a daily basis from their dysfunctional families.”
“Why is it your responsibility?” His tone was slightly softer.
“Why else would I be here?” If she swayed any closer, their lips would meet. She closed her eyes tightly before opening them and continuing, “I’m hired to make sure a wedding is perfect from the smallest detail to the largest. Women come to me to make their dreams come true and that’s what I do. I give them that one day they’ve been dreaming about since they were little girls. I make sure that guys like you stay far away from making a disaster that will ruin everything.”
“You didn’t answer me, Julie.” His gaze dropped to her lips briefly.
She drew a breath into her suddenly tight chest. “Answer you what?”
“Why you?”
“Because they hire me.”
His hands slid down her arms until he took her hands in his. “Want to know what I think?”
Warmth engulfed her hands and flooded her system. Her hands seemed to fit perfectly in his. Suddenly at a loss for breath, she nodded.
“I think you need to control everything because something is out of your control. Do you have something you can’t control, Julie?”
Her mother had taught her that to have control meant nothing could go wrong. The only thing out of her control right now was her feelings for him. She glanced away before she said, “No one can control everything.”
“You don’t always have to be in control. You can relax with me. I promise not to demand anything you aren’t willing to give.”
She opened her mouth and closed it. It would be so easy to lean into him and surrender to another kiss. To make him forget about trying to analyze her and her problems. To lose herself for a moment. Just a brief touch to quell the raging desire. “I think we should try the kitchen and maybe the wine cellar. She could be down there.”
“Whatever you want.” Seth put his hands in his pockets. That boyish grin was back on his face, but instead of being obnoxious, it was comforting.
“All right. We have a plan.” She took a deep breath and turned to go.
Seth caught her hand. When she glanced back, he said, “About the cake.”
“What about the cake?”
“Aunt Bea made the cake for that wedding.”
“So?”
“Aunt Bea can’t boil water. She thought she was doing everyone a favor by supplying the homemade cake. I saved the wedding by ruining that cake. I swear if you could get food poisoning from a cake, everyone would have if they’d been forced to eat it. In the end, I saved both the wedding party from eating gross cake and Aunt Bea’s feelings when everyone would have run to the bathroom to spit it out.”
“You were saving the wedding?” Julie turned her body to face his again.
“That and having a good time doing it.” His smile was slightly crooked and his eyes danced with merriment. “I admit I have a tendency to go overboard, but what’s more fun to talk about with your grandkids? The day that went perfectly or the day that Uncle Seth went flying into your cake?”
For some reason, Julie believed him, or maybe she just wanted to believe that this guy she was so attracted to wasn’t the goof-off everyone believed he was. At first she’d thought he was jaded about weddings because of his job, but now, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe there was a romantic under the layer of cynicism. Her chest filled with warmth and hope. In his own way, he was trying to save the wedding and not ruin it.
Seth searched her eyes for a moment and she thought maybe he’d kiss her. Her heart skipped in her chest.
“We should . . .” She pointed toward the door. Start over?