Chapter Six

Two days later, Lilly and Mo stepped into The Gentleman’s Finery, a suit and tuxedo shop on the edge of the Cherry Creek shopping area. The locally owned store was small but had excellent service and quality, and, keeping with her clients’ wish to work with as many small business owners as possible, it fit the bill perfectly.

“Ms. Walsh, Ms. Rossi, how nice to see you again,” Mr. Tanaka, the shop owner, called out.

The older gentleman made his way to her side. He reached out his wrinkled, talented tailor hands to grasp first hers and then her roommate’s. The large, thick glasses magnified smiling eyes that never missed a single stitch despite the man’s advanced age and worsening astigmatism. She knew from many years of conversations with the man at various client fittings that he took over the shop from his father, who took over from his father, who started the business after he immigrated to America from Japan in the early 1920s.

“Mr. Tanaka.” Lilly smiled. “Always a pleasure.”

“With you two beautiful and talented ladies in my shop, the pleasure is always mine.”

Old flirt. If he weren’t thirty years older than her and madly in love with his wife of forty years, she’d snatch him right up. They fit perfectly on paper. Similar work fields, but not so similar as to cause marital issues; they both enjoyed the opera—she knew because he and his wife had given her their box tickets one night when they couldn’t attend, best work perk ever—and they always had stimulating conversations. If only the Tanakas had a son. The couple did have two daughters. One who helped run the shop and the other who was away obtaining her PhD.

“I presume you’re both here to oversee the Buller fitting?”

She nodded. “Yes. The gentlemen should be arriving any minute. Do you need us to help set anything up, or would we just be in your way?”

“You two could never be in my way.” He motioned to the small collection of chairs and couches in the back of the shop. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ve got everything prepared. Why don’t you both go sit and wait while I gather the gentlemen’s tuxes?”

With that, the man hurried into the private back section of the store. Lilly followed Mo to the sitting area.

“When will the guys be here?”

She glanced at the time on her phone before answering her business partner. “Any minute now.”

Mo sat in a plushy brown chair, her tiny frame sinking into the softness of the old, comfortable furniture. Lilly chose to seat herself on a firm, wooden high-back chair. Opening her planning binder, she flipped to today’s section.

“We should have six men total. The father of the bride, father of the groom, ring bearer, the two groomsmen, and the groom.”

“How old is the ring bearer?” Mo had her own binder sitting at her feet with all the answers she needed, but the woman’s eyes were closed in bliss as she sank deeper into the chair.

What was that thing made of? Cotton candy?

Lilly scanned her notes. “He’s six.”

“Yes.” Mo’s pale brown eyes shot open. “Perfect age. Old enough to get the job done without crying down the aisle or throwing the ring pillow at the bride.” Both of which they’d witnessed before. “But young enough not to be a punk ass.”

Oh dear, she felt a headache coming on. Setting her binder in her lap, she removed her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Moira, please, whatever you do, do not call the ring bearer a ‘punk ass’ in front of any member of the wedding party.”

Mo laughed. “Oh, come on, like I would ever do anything like that. You worry too much, Lil.”

She worried just the right amount, thank you very much. It was her roommate and business partner who didn’t worry enough. Mo believed everyone was good—even punk-ass kids—and all would turn out right in the end no matter what. Her poor, delusional friend wouldn’t believe she was going to drown even if someone strapped a cement block to her legs and pushed her into the Platte River.

“Just—” The chime above the shop door rang out. Lilly glanced over her shoulder to see Kenneth stepping in the front door, a group of men shuffling behind him. “Be nice.”

Mo scrunched her nose in confusion. “I’m always nice.”

True, but the woman had a snarky sense of humor not appreciated by everyone. It was why Lilly handled most of the customer-facing tasks while Pru handled the finances and Mo worked with vendors. But with a group this large, she needed backup.

Liar! You want Mo here so you don’t jump Lincoln’s fine bod again.

What the—? Where had that thought come from? It certainly hadn’t sounded like her. Sounded more like her sunny, snarky roommate. But the other woman had already stood and was stepping toward the approaching men with a huge smile on her face.

“Welcome to your tux fitting, gentlemen. I’m Moira Rossi, and this is Lilly Walsh, and we are two-thirds of Mile High Happiness. We can’t wait to get you all looking devilishly handsome for Kenneth and Marie’s big day.”

Thankfully, her business partner had heeded Lilly’s warning and turned on the charm. Every pair of eyes in the shop focused on Mo with rapt attention.

All but one.

Lilly glanced to the right of the groom to see Lincoln standing just behind Kenneth. His pale hazel eyes locked onto her with a singular focus that made shivers break out across her skin. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, eyes heating as she stared back, helpless to break the contact. He said something to Kenneth, and the groom nodded with a smile.

What was she doing?

Her client was here with his wedding party for a fitting she arranged—okay, Mo arranged it, but whatever—and here she sat, drooling like a dog over the hot best man.

Get a grip, Lilly, and do your job, not the groomsman.

Pasting a smile on her face, she rose from her seat and crossed over to the group.

“Kenneth, how are your nerves? Getting excited? Anxious? No cold feet?” She added a small laugh to the last part, but it was surprising how many people cracked when asked that question, even in jest. It helped save a doomed wedding a time or two. A handy tool in her arsenal in making sure their weddings went off without a hiccup.

The groom’s smile widened, his entire face lighting up. “Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this day for years. February can’t come fast enough in my opinion. I just hope Marie doesn’t come to her senses and realize she’s too good for me before we say ‘I do.’”

Lincoln nudged his friend with his shoulder. “That’s what I’ve been saying for years, man. She’s way too good for you.”

“Ass,” Kenneth muttered with a smile, shoving him back.

The rest of the men laughed along, commenting on the happy couple, the fathers of the bride and groom sharing sweet stories of when the two first called home about each other.

“They’re actually quite perfect for each other.”

Lilly started as the deep voice filled her ear. She glanced to her side to see Lincoln standing not a foot away. How the hell had he moved over to her side without her noticing? The man should wear a bell or something.

“Kenneth and Marie,” he continued as she stared at him. “They’ve been through hell and come out stronger than ever.”

“I know.”

His brow raised. “You do?”

She nodded. “Marie told me about her…illness. It must have taken quite a toll.”

“It did. On all of us.” His smile slipped, gaze turning back to focus on his friend. “I’m not gonna lie, it sucked to know she was fighting so hard and there was nothing any of us could do. I thought poor Kenneth would need a new pair of feet with all the pacing he did in hospital waiting rooms.”

The three were close. Best friends. She’d forgotten that Marie’s cancer battle not only affected her fiancé but her friends as well. Poor Lincoln. She couldn’t imagine what she would do if Mo or Pru ever got deathly ill. Watching Pru in labor had been bad enough.

Heart aching for him and the entire situation, she squeezed his hand gently. “But she’s better now.”

He glanced down to where her hand grasped his. His eyes came up, fire blazing in the hazel depths. Suddenly her cheeks felt very hot, and sparks seemed to jump between their palms. She quickly dropped his hand and took a healthy step back.

No touching. Not anymore.

Lincoln smiled but didn’t comment on her movement. He simply nodded.

“Yeah, she’s better than ever, and those two are going to live the rest of their days in annoyingly mushy bliss.”

She chuckled. “Yes, they are long-haulers.”

He tilted his head, brow furrowing. “Long-haulers?”

“It’s what we call them in the industry. A couple you just know is going to last, be together forever, the long haul. Don’t get to see too many of them, but Kenneth and Marie are a pair. I can tell.”

He stared at her, eyes narrowing. “Huh, interesting.”

She swallowed, adverting her eyes, fearing she’d revealed too much.

“Welcome, gentlemen.” Mr. Tanaka came out from the back, a rolling cart with a varying display of hanging tuxes on it. “I have a few selections based on the style and sizes requested. Shall we start with the little one?”

Lilly hadn’t even noticed the small boy, who was clinging to the leg of the other groomsman, Marie’s brother. The sweet little guy looked nervous as he stuck to his dad like glue.

“You can come too, Dad.” Mr. Tanaka smiled. “We can fit you both at the same time.”

Father and son followed the shop proprietor to the small dressing area in the back.

“Aren’t wedding planners supposed to believe everyone lives happily ever after and all that stuff?”

She sucked in a sharp breath at the voice in her ear. How had he snuck up on her again? Turning, she glared.

“Will you stop sneaking up on me?”

Lincoln held out his hands, taking a very tiny step back. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak. I simply didn’t feel like yelling my question from across the room.”

“Three feet away is hardly across the room, Lincoln.” He grinned, a very suspicious grin she did not like the look of. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I just like it when you say my name.”

Heat rose on her cheeks. Oh yes, she remembered well how much he liked it when she said his name. Liked it even better when she screamed his name as he drove her to the edge of— Nope! Time to stop that memory right now.

“Stop it,” she whispered in a harsh tone.

“Stop what?”

“Flirting with me. It’s inappropriate.”

“As I recall…” He lowered his voice, forcing her to lean into him. “You like it when I get inappropriate.”

Oh, for the love of— This man was going to drive her insane with frustration or lust or both.

“For your information,” she said, “I do believe in happily ever after, I just don’t believe everyone gets one.”

His smile dropped. “You won’t hear me arguing with you there.”

Huh. She hadn’t really expected him to agree with her. And that shift in mood… Her intuition was telling her Lincoln’s lack of desire for a relationship had something to do with an unhappy breakup in his past. People often thought it was women who couldn’t get over an ex, but in her experience, men had a much harder time letting go of past pain.

She brought her binder up to her chest like a shield. “In this business, you see a lot of people rushing into something for the wrong reason. A lot of people who think they want a marriage when all they really want is a big, fancy wedding.”

“Nice payday for you no matter what.”

That was a little cynical. “Yes, a payday is nice, but I want all my clients to be happy. When extenuating circumstance dictates, we’ve helped couples cancel their nuptials, sometimes at a loss to us. People shouldn’t suffer just so others can make a living. Then there are the couples we have to hold our tongues around, the ones who go through with things even when they shouldn’t. They think they know what they want even if everyone else can see the disaster ahead.”

A dark pain filled his eyes, so sharp it took her breath away for a moment.

“Yeah, I guess some people just can’t see the truth sometimes.”

No, they couldn’t. A very true statement, and one that spoke of past experience, perhaps? A painful one, if she were a betting woman. Which she was not.

“So.” He shook his head, the dark expression dissipating. “You’re pretty good at spotting the disasters?”

For everyone else? Yes. For herself? Not a chance.

“It’s my job,” she answered with a smile.

“Hmm.”

He nodded, his eyes searching hers, seeking out truths she was in no way ever going to reveal to him.

Not a chance, buddy. We were one and done. Body-baring only. No soul reveals for you.

“My personal life is another matter.”

Dammit, brain! What did I just say?

How did this man throw her so off-kilter? Did he have a magic penis that cast a confusion spell on her when they had sex or something?

“Really?” He chuckled. “Do tell.”

Not for a million dollars.

Adjusting her glasses, she stepped back. “Excuse me, Mr. Reid, but I have some important wedding issues I need to discuss with the groom. I’m sure Mr. Tanaka will be ready to start your tux fitting soon.”

With what she hoped passed for a polite smile, she turned and hightailed it over to Kenneth, who was speaking with Mo about the wedding colors.

“Marie wanted our fathers’ vests to be a different color than the groomsmen’s,” Kenneth said as she approached.

“We can do that,” Mo agreed. “Did you two have a specific color in mind?”

The groom shrugged. “Whatever goes with green and lavender.”

Lilly stepped to his side. “How about silver? It’s subtle enough not to overpower the primary colors and will give a classic, regal feel to the patriarchs of your families.”

Kenneth smiled. “Yeah, silver. It’s perfect. Man, I am so glad we hired you, Lilly. I wish you could manage the coffee shop, too.”

She gave a soft laugh. “I probably wouldn’t be as effective at solving coffee crises.”

He laughed with her before being called over by Mr. Tanaka to approve the first of the selected tuxes. Lincoln had taken up a conversation with the fathers, leaving Mo and Lilly in relative isolation.

“You and Lincoln looked pretty chummy over there.” Mo waggled her eyebrows. “What were you talking about?”

“Wedding stuff.”

“Really? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

She sighed. “That doesn’t even make sense, Mo.”

“It does if you have a sense of humor.”

Crass, but not entirely untrue. There may have been a past boyfriend or two who accused Lilly of being a stick-in-the-mud. Excuse her for taking life as seriously as it was. Besides, she knew how to have fun. She had a sense of humor. It was just hard for her to let her hair down. She had a business to run.

“Hey,” Mo said softly, placing a hand on Lilly’s arm. “Seriously, is everything okay?”

She glanced over to Lincoln, who, thankfully, was fully engaged in his conversation and not paying them any attention. Just in case, she turned so her back faced the men, blocking her and Mo’s discussion. Glancing into her friend’s worried gaze, she let out a breath and the truth along with it.

“I’m just a little stressed out with Pru still gone and my mother calling.”

Okay, partial truth.

“Oh sweetie, why didn’t you say anything?” Mo pulled her in for a quick hug. “Let’s take a break tonight and do something fun.”

“The only thing I want to do tonight is Lincoln.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes widening. “Laundry,” she hissed at her friend’s surprised expression. “I meant the only thing I want to do tonight is laundry. I have a huge pile of colors to run.”

“Nice try, but I heard the Freudian slip.”

“Mo.” She glanced over her shoulder, but all the men were still occupied. “Please.”

The shorter woman sighed. “Fine. We won’t discuss your pathetic lusting over a guy you already had and could have again if you just let go of your silly self-imposed rule, but I am not letting you wallow in dirty laundry tonight. There’s only one thing to do with pent-up lust you can’t sate.”

“What?” She eyed her roommate warily; nothing Mo suggested could be good. She loved her friend, but she didn’t exactly trust her.

Mo gave a sneaky little grin, winking as she replied, “Smack some balls, of course.”