Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(51)

"Remind me to burn them." Emma passed the drink back to Mac, then tuned up her smile as Jack crossed to them.

"Ladies."

"Man," Mac responded. "I've got to get to work. Later."



       
         
       
        

She loped off.

"Rehearsal," Emma explained.

"Are you in on that?"

"Just as backup. Are you done for the day?"

"Yeah. I had to make a stop at a client's not far from here, so I . . . Am I in the way?"

"No. No." Flustered, she pushed at her hair again. "I was just taking a break, walking over to the rehearsal in case they needed me for anything."

He slid his hands in his pockets. "We're being weird with each other."

"God. Yes. We are. Let's stop. Here." She rose to her toes, kissed him firmly. "I'm glad you came by. I've been at it since about eight, and wanted a break. Mrs. G's making lasagna. Do you want in on that?"

"Oh yeah."

"Then why don't you go charm her, have a beer, and I'll see you inside when we're finished."

"I'll do that." He caught her chin in his hand, leaned down to kiss her again. "You smell like your work. It's nice. I'll see you inside."

As they separated, her smile bloomed.





EMMA WALKED INTO THE HOUSE TO THE GOOD, RICH SCENTS OF dinner and Mrs. Grady's big, bawdy laugh. The combination boosted her already happy mood. She heard Jack relaying what seemed to be the tail end of a work story.

"Then, when she clued in, she says, 'Oh, well. Can't you just move the door?' "

"She did not."

"Would I lie to you?"

"Every day and twice on Sunday. Are you moving the door?"

"We're moving the door, which will cost her about twice as much as the armoire she fell in love with. But client is king."

He took a sip from his beer, and his gaze shifted toward Emma when she walked in. "How'd it go?"

"Easy and fun, which is always a good sign for the real thing. They're trusting luck and the weather forecaster on tomorrow's predicted rain holding off until late evening, and going without the tents. So, fingers crossed on that."

As she would in her own home, Emma got out a glass for wine. "They're off to the rehearsal dinner. But I think we've got the better deal here." She sniffed the air. "It smells great, Mrs. G."

"Table's set," Mrs. Grady said as she tossed a salad. "You'll eat in the dining room like the civilized."

"Parker and Mac will be right along. I haven't seen Laurel."

"She's fiddling in her own kitchen, and knows what time I'm serving."

"I'll give her a heads-up." 

"All right then. Jack, make yourself useful since you're mooching, and put this salad on the table."

"Yes, ma'am. Hey, Carter."

"Hello, Jack. They're right behind me, Mrs. G."

She gave Carter a steely stare. "Did you teach anything useful today?"

"I like to think so."

"Did you wash your hands?" she demanded.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then take that wine in and go sit down. And no picking until everyone's seated."

She served family style in the big dining room with its lofty ceiling and generous windows. Because it was Grady's Rule, cell phones were turned off, and Parker left her BlackBerry in the kitchen.

"Sunday Bride's aunt stopped by," Parker began. "She brought the chuppah, she just finished making it last night. It's a work of art. I'm keeping it upstairs. Emma, you may want to take a look at it, in case you feel you should tweak any of the arrangements. Carter, you're teaching the aunt's sister-in-law's older boy. David Cohen."

"David? He's a bright kid, who's currently using most of his creativity to cut up in class. Just last week he gave a report on Of Mice and Men in the style of a stand-up comic."

"How'd he do?" Mac asked him.

"I'm not sure how Steinbeck would've felt about it, but I gave him an A."

"It's such a sad book. Why do we have to read so many sad books in school?" Emma wondered.

"We're reading The Princess Bride in my freshman class now."

"Why didn't I have teachers like you? I like happy books, and happy endings. And look at you, with your own Buttercup."

Mac rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's me. I'm a real Buttercup. Tomorrow's event has a nice fairy-tale feel, though. All those fairy lights and candles, all white flowers."

"Tink complained she was going snow-blind. But they're beautiful. A couple more hours tonight, and they're done. All the hand-tying and wiring makes this one very labor-intensive. Plus." She held up a hand sporting new nicks and scratches. "Ouch."