More Than Perfect(54)
Trinity pinpointed the one detail that continued to gnaw at Angie. “I keep hoping the ends justify the means,” she muttered.
“A popular defense, but historically, it’s one that tends to get people hanged.” Trinity swept up their dinner plates and carted them into the kitchen. “I made cobbler. You want?”
“Did you make hard sauce to go with it?”
“Of course.”
“Then I want.”
Trinity laughed. “Just like my granny used to make with one small exception.” She set a small dish of cobbler in front of Angie. “In addition to the butter and sugar, there’s also a tablespoon of whiskey.”
Angie stabbed a finger at her friend. “You’re evil. I never noticed that about you before, but it’s true.”
“More like an evil genius. Since I don’t hear you rejecting the offer, even with my small addition, I’ll get the hard sauce.”
Angie tucked Mikey more firmly in the crook of her arm and offered him another bite of the cooked carrots she’d brought for his dinner. He scrunched up his face and shoved the spoon away. “Got it. No more carrots. Dessert time, right? Give me a minute and I’ll get your applesauce.”
He didn’t wait. Instead, he made a grab at her cobbler. Before she could whip it aside, he snatched up a small helping and shoved it into his mouth, crowing in approval at the flavor.
“The kid’s got good taste,” Trinity observed, setting a small bowl of hard sauce on the table.
Angie nipped her dessert plate clear of Mikey’s reach. “The kid isn’t allowed cobbler. He’s too little. And make sure you keep that hard sauce on your side of the table. If the Ridgeways ever found out he ate something containing alcohol they’d slap Lucius with a lawsuit so fast they’d hear the sonic boom in the Antarctic.”
Trinity obediently shifted the bowl. “So, when’s the wedding and do I get to help pick out the dress?”
“This is Monday… The date’s been set for a week from Friday.”
“Nine days!” Trinity stared, nonplussed. “How are you supposed to pull everything together in nine days?”
“Apparently, Lucius has solved that problem by throwing money at it.” Angie helped herself to a bite of cobbler. “One call and the invitations that couldn’t possibly be ready for two weeks were available the same day. They go into the mail first thing tomorrow morning. The flowers have been ordered. Joe Milano is taking care of the cake. It’s amazing how much you can accomplish in a single day when money is no object.”
“What about a tux?”
Angie made a face. “Lucius must own a half-dozen tuxes, so that won’t be a problem.”
“Which leaves your wedding dress.”
“Which is a problem,” Angie acknowledged with a sigh.
“Not for long.” Trinity dropped a generous dollop of hard sauce on her cobbler and dug in. “The day after tomorrow you, me and Mikey will hit the stores and we won’t give up until we find the perfect gown. I’d drag you out shopping the first thing tomorrow—”
“But Mikey has his six-month checkup on Tuesday.” Angie sighed. “Why don’t you torture me instead of taking me shopping? It would be less painful.”
Trinity shook her head, her expression turning serious. “You only have one first marriage, Ange. If you’re lucky, only one marriage, period. You want it to be a day you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” She polished off the last of her cobbler and waved the purple-stained fork in Angie’s direction. “And that means the perfect wedding dress.”
Trinity was right, of course, and Angie couldn’t explain her reluctance when it came to buying a gown. Maybe it went back to the feeling she’d cheated when it came to her marriage to Lucius. That because she’d asked Jett to alter the Pretorius Program, she’d manipulated him into marrying her. After putting an unusually cranky Mikey to bed for the night, she faced the unpalatable truth.
She wanted Lucius to marry her because he loved her, not for expedience.
Angie stood at the foot of the mile-wide bed—a cold and empty bed without Lucius—and struggled not to cry. She’d made this bed. Time to lie in it. Based on their interactions to date, chances were excellent that it would be a good bed and a good marriage. She just needed to give them both time to develop their relationship a little more. To finish the process she didn’t doubt they’d already started…and fall in love. Stripping off her clothes, she crawled beneath the covers. She missed Lucius. Missed him unbearably. Tugging his pillow into her arms, she buried her face in it. A faint trace of his scent clung to the fabric. Crisp and distinctly male with the merest hint of forest cedar.