A Blazing Little Christmas(10)

“What’s the next thing on your list?” Eric asked Kelley.

“We still haven’t decided which ballroom we’ll need.”

“The large one,” Jessica’s mom stated firmly.

Jessica’s headache grew worse. “Mom…I’ve told you that Eric and I would prefer a smaller wedding. Maybe around fifty people. Or less.”

Her mom’s eyebrows shot upward—as if she’d never heard this before—then collapsed in a frown. “Fifty? Impossible. That would barely cover our immediate family.”

“Mom, there’re only six of us in our immediate family.”

“I mean our immediate circle—of family, friends, business associates and co-workers.” She reached out and patted Jessica’s arm. “You don’t need to be concerned about the cost, dear. I’ve been saving for this day for a long time. The wedding is my gift to you.” She flicked a look at Eric. “And Eric, too.”

God, she hated when her mother did that—glanced at Eric as if he were something she’d just scraped off the bottom of her shoe, then tacked him onto the end of her sentence like an unpleasant afterthought. She’d discussed the matter privately with her mother several times, but each talk had degenerated into an argument with her mother harping that Eric was “the competition” and that Jessica should find some other man to marry—a doctor or lawyer would be nice. She’d even gone so far as to suggest that all the arguments were actually Jessica’s fault for not introducing Eric to the family until they were already engaged.

Uh-huh. Well, she’d have to take the bullet on that one because she had kept Eric to herself for their entire six-month courtship. Because she’d known how her mother and brothers would react. Her brothers hadn’t liked anyone she’d ever dated, and had scared off more than one potential boyfriend. As for Mom, she’d also found fault with every guy Jessica had ever brought home—except for her high school boyfriend, John Wilson. And the only reason Mom had liked him was that he was the spitting image of a young Paul Newman. Which was good. But John also had a roving eye. Which was not good. By the time she graduated from college, she’d learned that there were only two types of guys she should bring home to meet the family—the type she didn’t want to date anymore as one visit, especially with the brothers, pretty much insured she wouldn’t hear from him again, and the guy she wanted to marry.

She’d known from that first moment she laid eyes on Eric that he was The One, and every moment spent with him over the next six months had only served to reinforce that first impression. And that being the case, she sure as hell hadn’t wanted to scare him off. She was just working up the courage to suggest he meet her family when he asked her to marry him. That had led to their first meeting with her family a week later basically becoming Mom, guys, this is Eric. We’re engaged.

Although Jessica didn’t meet Eric’s family, either, until after they were engaged, that first meeting had gone much better. But that promising beginning had slithered right down the tubes when they’d brought the two families together for the first time two weeks later.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

“Now that we’ve settled the ballroom issue,” Kelley’s voice broke into her reverie, “let’s move on to the color scheme.”

“Butter-yellow,” said Mom.

“Impossible,” vetoed Kelley. “Too pale and spring like for February. Not only that—”

“I’m going to the bar to watch the game,” Marc broke in, clearly anxious to escape all discussions of things butter-yellow. Jessica envied him his freedom and wished she could join him.

Kelley turned to Eric. “Why don’t you go with him, Eric? Unless you want to discuss the impossibility of butter-yellow?”

Everything male in Eric wanted to bolt from the chair and escape, but he wasn’t about to abandon Jess. He turned toward her and she nodded. “Go ahead.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, then whispered in his ear, “Go. Save yourself. No reason we both should suffer.” Her teeth grazed his earlobe and his eyes glazed over. Damn it. All he wanted to do was get her alone. Finish what they’d started before the descent of The Families. He was one breath away from yanking her out of that chair, slinging her into his arms and escaping back to their cabin. Locking the door and telling the world and their families to leave them the hell alone. And by God, if this wedding meeting wasn’t over in the next half hour, that’s exactly what he was going to do.