A Blazing Little Christmas(9)
Her bleak expression didn’t change, twisting the knot gripping his insides even tighter. “Yanking off a bandage can really hurt, Eric.”
His fingers clenched, pressing into her parka. “We’re not going to let it hurt us, Jess.”
The fact that she didn’t instantly agree made him actually feel ill. Her gaze searched his, then she said quietly, “I don’t want it to, Eric, but—”
“No buts,” he cut in, not willing to even contemplate what she might have said next. “Everything is going to be fine.”
He just hoped like hell he was right.
Chapter 3
With her stomach knotted with that “walking through the minefield” sensation, Jessica entered the lodge. After everyone hung up their snow-coated jackets on the large rack near the door, they headed toward the lounge area. A number of tables were filled, and half a dozen patrons sat at the bar, most of them checking out the hockey game showing on the overhead TV. The bartender—who looked so much like Roland Krause, Jessica would have bet they were brothers—polished glasses behind the curved mahogany bar.
Once they’d seated themselves in overstuffed leather armchairs around a low, round polished oak table set on antlers, a waitress wearing a festive red Santa hat to top off her red-and-green outfit approached with a friendly smile.
“Happy holidays, everyone. What can I get you?”
“Scotch,” said Marc without hesitation. “Straight up.”
So much for hot chocolate. Obviously this was a meeting that required a stiff drink.
Jessica flicked a glance out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the swirling snow. “Aren’t you the designated driver?”
“Yes. But since we’re apparently going to be here for several hours—” he shot an “and it’s all your fault” glare toward Kelley “—one drink is okay.”
“Vodka martini,” said Kelley, pulling a thick planner from her oversize purse.
“Gin martini,” said Jessica’s mom, in a tone that seemed to toss the first grenade toward Kelley. Jessica wasn’t the least bit surprised that the two women didn’t agree on what sort of martini was best.
After Jess ordered a white wine and Eric asked for a beer, the waitress headed toward the bar and an awkward silence descended on the group. Jessica cleared her throat and attempted a cheerful smile, but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Why don’t we get started?” So we can get this over with.
“Excellent,” said Kelley, consulting her planner. “First, we need to decide on an approximate number of guests so I can tell the catering manager at the Marble Falls Country Club which ballroom to block for us. The smaller ballroom holds up to one hundred guests, the larger one up to three hundred.”
“The small one,” Jessica said.
“The large one,” her mother said at the same time, then frowned. “Although I’m not thrilled having the reception at the country club. The Ritz-Carlton is only an hour’s drive from Marble Falls and the ballroom there is much more elegant. And it can accommodate more guests.”
Jessica pressed her fingers to her temple in a vain attempt to stem the headache forming there. “Mom, I don’t even know three hundred people.”
“We have dozens of business contacts through the restaurant we need to invite, dear.” She flicked a glance toward Eric. “No doubt Eric has a few as well.”
“The Ritz-Carlton is out of the question,” Kelley said, shaking her head. “It’s too far, especially for a February wedding when the weather is so unpredictable. If there’s a bad snowstorm, we’ll end up with no way to get to the reception.”
“Which is why the wedding should take place in June,” Mom said, her jaw tilting to its most stubborn angle.
Kelley dismissed her words with a wave of her hand. “June is completely passé for brides. May is the perfect month—”
“Stop,” Jessica said, holding up her hand. “I don’t want to wait until May or June.” She looked at Eric. “Do you?”
“I don’t want to wait until tomorrow.”
She nearly sagged with relief at his reply. Sometimes she truly feared he’d finally get so disgusted with all these issues that he’d decide she wasn’t worth the aggravation. The mere thought made her feel physically ill.
He turned toward his sister. “The wedding will take place, as Jess and I planned, in February.”
“But the weather—” Kelley protested.
“February,” reiterated Eric.
The waitress delivered their drinks and while Eric signed the bill to charge them to their room, Jess took a grateful sip of wine. Based on the first few minutes, this was going to be a looooong meeting.