More Than a Convenient Bride(5)

Though she had never actually met Jennifer's husband-nor did she care  to-her sister's description of him gave Julie a bad feeling. He sounded  very controlling, like their father. But now was not the time to dredge  up those old memories. She had promised herself a long time ago that she  would never look back in regret, but instead learn from her past and  always move forward. Always strive to better herself. Marrying Luc,  though completely unexpected, would be just another leg of her journey.                       
       
           



       

"Having second thoughts already?" Luc asked, and she realized she was frowning.

"No, of course not. Just wondering what happens next."

"Drew suggested we have the ceremony and reception at the club and we have to do it soon."

"How soon?"

"How's this Saturday afternoon looking for you?"

This Saturday? That was only five days away. She knew absolutely zero  about planning a wedding, but less than a week sounded ridiculously  fast. "Is it even possible to put a wedding together that quickly? And  what about immigration? Don't we have to have an interview or  something?"

"My attorney is taking care of all of that. And as for the wedding, we'll keep it simple. Close friends only. Very informal."

"I don't even know where to start."

"All you need to do is find a dress. And a maid of honor. I'll take care of the rest."

Of all her friends in Royal, Lark Taylor was the closest. They'd met  during the first few weeks of the cleanup efforts and became fast  friends. She was a nurse in the intensive care unit at the hospital.  They often took coffee breaks together, and sometimes went out for  drinks after work. She was planning her own wedding to Keaton Holt, a  longtime Cattleman's Club member, so perhaps she could give Julie a few  pointers.

"We'll have to kiss," she heard Luc say, and it took her brain a second to catch up with her ears.

"Kiss?"

"During the ceremony," he said.

"Oh...right." She hadn't considered that. She thought about kissing Luc  and a peculiar little shiver cascaded down the length of her spine.  Back when she first met him, she used to think about the two of them  doing a lot more than just kissing, but he had been too hung up on  Amelia and their recently broken engagement to even think about another  woman. So hung up that he left his life in Royal behind and traveled  halfway around the world with Doctors Without Borders.

A recent dumpee herself, she'd been just as confused and vulnerable at  the time, and she knew there was nothing worse for the ego than a  rebound relationship. They were, and always would be, better off as  friends. In her experience, it was usually one or the other. Mixing sex  and friendship would only end in disaster.

"Is that a problem?" Luc asked.

She blinked. "Problem?"

"Us kissing. You got an odd look on your face."

Had she? "It's no problem at all," she assured him, but if that was  true, why did her stomach bottom out when she imagined his lips on hers.  It had been a long time since she'd been kissed by anyone. Maybe too  long.

"We'll have to start acting like a married couple," he said.

"In what way?"

"You'll have to move in with me."

She hadn't really considered that, but of course a married couple would  live together. Having separate residences would raise a very bright red  flag. Since Julie left home, when she wasn't volunteering abroad, she'd  lived alone. She liked the freedom of answering to no one but herself,  of doing what she wanted to do, when she wanted to do it. That would be  hard to give up.

As if Luc read her mind, he added, "Nothing in our relationship is going to change. We only have to make it look as if it has."

But by pretending that it changed, by making it look that way to everyone else, wasn't that in itself a change?

Ugh. She never realized how complicated this could be. She could already feel the walls closing in on her.

"Look," he said, and this time he was the one frowning. "If any of this  makes you uncomfortable, we don't have to do it. I want you to stay in  the US, and I'll do whatever I can to help make that happen, but if it's  going to cause a rift in our friendship, maybe it's not worth it."

"I'm just used to living on my own. The idea of changing that is a  little intimidating. But it is worth it. And I don't want you to think  that I'm not grateful. I am."

"I know you are." He smiled and laid a hand on her forearm, and the  feel of his skin against hers gave her that little shiver again. What  the heck was going on? She never used to shiver like that when he  touched her. She was sure it was due only to the stress of her  situation.

What else could it possibly be?

* * *

"It's bad, isn't it?" Julie looked up at Lark, her maid of honor, in  the dressing room mirror at the Cattleman's Club. Julie was on her third  attempt of giving herself "smoky eyes." But she looked more like a  cheap street walker than a bride.                       
       
           



       

"When it comes to eyeliner and shadow, especially for someone as  naturally pretty as you, I think less is more," Lark said, which was her  kind way of telling Julie to give it up.

"Oh my God, what a mess," Julie said, swiping at her eyes with a damp  cloth. It had looked pretty simple in the instructional video she'd  found online, but her technique lacked a certain...finesse. Which is why  she never wore the stuff.

Her father had lived by very traditional values and as teens, Julie and  her sister had been forbidden to use makeup of any kind. Or wear pants.  Dresses and skirts were the only acceptable attire for a female in her  father's home, and Julie had played the role of obedient daughter very  well. It was easier not to make waves. She concentrated on her studies  and getting into a good college. She never did develop the desire to  wear makeup, but after eighteen years of wearing only skirts and  dresses, she swore she would never wear anything but pants. Yet here she  was now in a newly purchased, off-white, silk shift dress, which she  had to admit hung nicely on her athletic frame. But with her raccoon  eyes Luc was going to take one look at her and run in the opposite  direction.

Her sister, the queen of all things girly and impractical, would have  been a big help right about now but she wasn't answering calls or texts.  If it was anyone but Jennifer, Julie might have worried, but that was  typical for her sister. She was either completely distant and  unreliable, or smothering Julie with her sisterly love. There was no  middle ground.

"I suck at this," she said.

"Maybe just a little mascara and liner," Lark suggested, with a sympathetic smile. "Would you like me to help?"

Julie looked up at her with pleading, raccoon eyes. "Yes, please."

Lark worked her magic and she was right. Julie was lucky to have been  blessed with smooth, clear skin, and just a touch of liner and mascara  and a little clear gloss on her lips subtly enhanced her features.

"You're a genius," she told Lark.

"And you look beautiful," Lark said, smiling and stepping back to  admire her work. "Lucas is a lucky man. And forgive me for saying, but  it's about darned time you two tied the knot."

Julie had heard that same remark from a dozen people since she and Luc  made the announcement earlier that week. "It doesn't seem...sudden?"

"I always suspected you and Luc had something going-I think everyone  has-but you're a very private person, so I didn't want to ask. I figured  that if you wanted me to know, or needed to talk about it, you would  tell me."

If there had been anything to tell, Julie probably would have.

There was a rap on the dressing room door and Lark's sister Skye  stepped into the dressing room. She looked surprisingly healthy for  someone still recovering from a near-fatal car crash during the tornado.  Luc had performed an emergency cesarean to save her unborn child, and  her injuries had been so severe she'd been in a coma for four months.  Until Skye was well enough to care for her daughter, Lark had taken  responsibility for Baby Grace, who was the sweetest most adorable infant  Julie had ever seen.

"It's time," Skye said, then sighed wistfully. "You look beautiful. Luc is a lucky guy."

Julie took a good look at herself in the mirror, spinning in a circle to get every angle. Not half-bad.

Though she usually kept her hair pulled up into a ponytail, she'd worn  it down today, in loose, soft curls that tumbled across her shoulders.  She'd even put on her mother's diamond earrings. It was the only thing  of her mother's that she had left. In his grief after she died, Julie's  father had removed every trace of his wife from their home. Photos,  personal items, anything that reminded him of her. Julie had only been  four at the time, but she remembered sitting on her parents' bed, crying  as she watched their housekeeper clear out her mother's closet, shoving  her clothes into black trash bags.