"If only it would last."
"Laurel," Parker murmured.
"I mean it. You got to give her a piece of your mind," she reminded Parker. "I didn't. I can only let it fester."
"Which I appreciate," Mac said. "Sincerely. But as you can see, I'm not in a funk, I'm not swimming in guilt or even marginally pissed off. I think there's an advantage to finding a guy who's sensible, loving, and just really solid. An advantage over and above really terrific morning sex. Each one of you has been on my side when I've had to deal with Linda, you've tried to help me through her demands and basic insanity. I guess Carter just helped tip the scales, and now I can deal with it. I wanted to tell you."
"I'd have morning sex with him myself, just for that."
"Hands off, McBane. But I appreciate the sentiment. So." She rose. "I want to get some work done before I need to focus on today's event. I'll swing by and get some shots of the cake."
"Hang on, I'll go with you." Emma pushed up. "I'll be back with the team shortly and I'll drop the flowers off for you, Laurel."
When they'd gone, Laurel sat another moment. "She really meant it."
"Yes, she really did."
"And she's right." Laurel took a last moment to sit back and relax with her coffee. "Carter's the one who turned the key in the lock. I wonder what it's like to have a man who can do that, who can help that way without pushing. Who can love you that way. I guess when it comes down to it, I envy her that even more than the sex."
Shrugging, Laurel rose. "I'd better get to work."
LAUREL DIDN'T HAVE TIME TO THINK ABOUT MEN OVER THE next couple of days. She didn't have the time, or the energy, to think about love and romance. She might have been neck-deep in weddings, but that was business-and the business of weddings demanded focus and precision.
Her Antique Lace cake, which had taken her nearly three days to create, had its moment in the spotlight before being disassembled and devoured. Saturday afternoon featured her whimsical Pastel Petals with its hundreds of embossed, gum-paste rose petals, and Saturday evening her Rose Garden, where tiers of bold red roses layered with tiers of vanilla-bean cake and silky buttercream frosting.
For Sunday afternoon's smaller, more casual event, the bride had chosen Summer Berries. Laurel had done the baking, the filling, the assembly, and the basketweave frosting. Now, even as the bride and groom exchanged vows on the terrace outside, Laurel completed the project by arranging the fresh fruit and mint leaves on the tiers.
Behind her, the subs completed table decorations for the wedding brunch. She wore a baker's apron over a suit nearly the same color as the raspberries she selected.
Stepping back, she studied the lines and balance, then chose a bunch of champagne grapes to drape over a tier.
"Looks tasty."
Her eyebrows drew together as she grouped stemmed cherries. Interruptions while she worked were common, but that didn't mean she had to like them. Added to it, she hadn't expected Parker's brother to drop by during an event.
Then again, she reminded herself, he came and went as he pleased.
But when she spotted his hand reaching for one of her containers, she slapped it away smartly.
"Hands off."
"Like you're going to miss a couple blackberries."
"I don't know where your hands have been." She set a trio of mint leaves, and didn't bother, yet, to spare him a glance. "What do you want? We're working."
"Me, too. More or less. Lawyer capacity. I had some paperwork to drop off."
He handled all their legal dealings, both individually and as a business. She knew, very well, that he put in long hours on their behalf, and often on his own time. But if she didn't jab at him, she'd break long-standing tradition.
"And timed it so you could mooch from catering."
"There ought to be some perks. Brunch deal?"
She gave in and turned. His choice of jeans and a T-shirt didn't make him less of an Ivy League lawyer, not to her mind. Delaney Brown of the Connecticut Browns, she thought. Tall, appealingly rangy, his dense brown hair just a smidge longer than lawyerly fashion might dictate.
Did he do that on purpose? She imagined so, as he was a man who always had a plan. He shared those deep, midnight blue eyes with Parker, but though Laurel had known him all her life, she could rarely read what was behind them.
He was, in her opinion, too handsome for his own good, too smooth for anyone else's. He was also unflinchingly loyal, quietly generous, and annoyingly overprotective.