No Groom Like Him

A widow who would soon be a bride again.

“I’m sure Madeleine is a total doll,” Lily said. “Not like Camille and Jake. Twins can be a handful on a good day.”

“As you would know firsthand.”

“True, true.” Only she and Mike would never get into trouble together again. “But I don’t remember Mike giving Mom a hard time about going to school the way Jake gave Riley. Of course, I was an angel.”

Max snorted.

“Seriously, it must be a boy thing. You have nothing to worry about.”

Max sliced his gaze her way, clearly gauging whether or not she was teasing him.

Lily kept a straight face, determined to keep things light. For a long few moments, they sat in silence as Max drove toward the Valley. There were houses where forested hills had been. There had been road expansions. There was even a strip plaza filled with businesses around the corner from her old elementary school. “I can’t believe how much this place has grown since I’ve been home. It hasn’t been all that long.”

“Four years.”

“I’ve been a topic at the dinner table.” Not a question.

Max nodded, clearly knowing better than to offer more information.

“All right, be like that. Let me ask you, though—who called me the prodigal?”

“I did.” She got the sense he was picking his way through a mine field. “Seemed to fit.”

“How’s that?”

He raised his hands against the steering wheel, as much of a conciliatory gesture as he could make while still driving. “Not looking to weigh in with an opinion. It just seemed to work because you’ve been away awhile.”

Lily might accept that at face value, but the deeper implications bothered her.

Was PMS or exhaustion making her touchy today? Or was it anxiety about returning home for the first time since Mike? Or was Max unsettling her because he’d blindsided her at the press conference and brought up that stupidity with the blog? Or worse still, was she annoyed with herself because she couldn’t forget her crush on him?

Lily didn’t know. She hadn’t intended to rise to the bait, either, but…the years had only defined Max’s chiseled cheekbones. And his haunted eyes had an appeal all their own. “Okay, Max. I’m sensing something here. Are you annoyed I didn’t agree to contract your brother-in-law’s wedding when you put me on the spot? And while we’re at it let me ask if there was any point to bringing up that ridiculous blog.”

He had the audacity to look surprised. “I thought the point of a press conference was to give the media something to write about. Raymond’s campaign and that controversial blog will give you tons of mileage. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

“I’d prefer not to give the blogger any attention.”

“A platform for someone with an ax to grind?”

“Possibly. But if that’s the case, I can’t imagine whom.”

“Emmelina seems pretty upset.”

“Emmelina would love someone to blame. She trashed her career for a man who cheated on his wife and left her at the altar. But she hasn’t mentioned me because she knows better. Mara’amu wasn’t responsible. Had the winds been up, I would have moved the ceremony indoors.”

“What happened then?”

“Ugh. A tabloid reporter trying to beat out the competition. He evaded security, tripped over his own video equipment and crashed into one of the dancers. Of course, only the resort security cameras had caught that on film and they wouldn’t release the footage.”

“You could have given a statement.”

“I will not dignify this stupidity with a defense.”

Max didn’t look convinced, which annoyed Lily more.

“Also for the record, the point of not releasing my travel information was so the press didn’t have anything to write about. I would have thought that much should be obvious to you, as you’re privy to intimate details about my personal life.”

Too many, it would seem.

He lingered at a traffic light after the signal turned green as he frowned at her. “Are you saying you didn’t call that press conference?”

Now it was Lily’s turn to frown. “Are you telling me you didn’t leak my travel plans?”

“Of course not. Riley made it a point of telling me that you were keeping your arrival on the Q.T. And your mom. And dad. And my mother. Hmm…let me think. There wasn’t anyone who didn’t mention it. That’s why I was so surprised when my assistant told me she got a notice with your arrival details.”

Lily stared at the road ahead. “Well, that’s interesting. I wonder who leaked the information. That was quite a crowd. By any chance do you still have the notice?”

“I’ll ask my assistant. It was an email, I believe.”

No surprises there. Wasn’t as easy to cause trouble using fax and a landline. Or snail mail, either. But emails could be bounced all over the globe via satellite to effectively mask the sender. As she’d learned while trying to discover the identity of the culprit behind the All About Angel blog and got quoted privacy laws for the effort.

Now someone close enough to know her travel plans thought it was okay to leak to the press. Lovely. And she’d thought her plate was already full.

“Why would you think I’d reveal your plans?” Max asked.

“You were capitalizing on the moment, if memory serves.”

He slowed to navigate a sharp turn. “Back to the point of a press conference. Assuming you’d arranged it—which I did—I thought you’d appreciate the connection between you and the exclusive about Raymond’s campaign. I seized an opportunity. For both of us.”

“I haven’t contracted the wedding. We haven’t even spoken about it.”

“I didn’t want to waste any time.”

“You seem to have bypassed the part about choice, Max. Don’t I get one?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I made it a point not to go through my mother.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I thought Raymond’s wedding would be right up your alley. And the timing couldn’t be more perfect since you’ll already be in town.”

“I’m here to whip up a family wedding.”

“I know. But I need you to whip up one for me, too. I realize the time frame is somewhat of a challenge, but you’re the Wedding Angel.” He flashed that dashing grin, dimples and all, but Lily couldn’t seem to move past a few tiny words.

Somewhat of a challenge?

She was somewhat speechless. It took her a moment and a few deep breaths, but she did manage to squeeze out a question purely for clarification purposes. “I thought you said Raymond and Jamilyn had leave around the holidays.”

“I did.”

“Christmas is barely twelve weeks away.”

He shook his head. “Thanksgiving. They’ll be on duty before Christmas.”

Lily could only stare. Did the man think she snapped her fingers and—poof—a media-worthy fantasy magically appeared out of thin air? Was it possible he didn’t realize there was actual work involved? Including seventeen thousand decisions about the venue, catering, costuming, licensing, guests… Hadn’t he walked down the aisle once himself?

“Max, seriously. Have you lost your mind? Thanksgiving is eight weeks away.”

“How hard can it be? You’ll be planning Riley’s wedding. Can’t you do one more of whatever you do for her? You know, order two cakes instead of one. That sort of thing.”

Condescension? Did he think she was exaggerating?

“No. No. No.” Why didn’t she remember Max being so dense? “Riley wants a simple affair. A wedding for the twins because I think she and Scott would be happy at the courthouse. They want tasteful, which will be challenging given the circumstances.”

“I wonder why she called you then.”

“That’s why she called me.” Lily really didn’t remember Max being this obtuse. If she had, surely she wouldn’t have spent so many years imagining him as the groom in all her weddings. “Scott was my brother’s best friend and partner. The situation has potential for social awkwardness since they all have the same friends and this town is so small. She doesn’t want to elope and leave the twins feeling less than excited about their changing family. Riley trusts me to figure out what’ll make everyone happy. You, on the other hand, want me to whip up a full-scale wedding on a dime.”

“I thought that’s what you did.”

“I create fantasies, and fantasies take time. An intimate family wedding is another beast from the extravaganza you want.”

“You’ve got eight weeks.”

This man… “I am not planning Raymond’s wedding.”

She didn’t feel obligated to explain. Even if he wasn’t being so high-handed, she had no intention of explaining that she’d come home to kick back, regroup and relax.

And while she rested, her crews would be working overtime. They needed to focus on the current contracts to ensure every t was crossed and every i dotted so there weren’t any more disasters. And she’d still be working by cell phone, laptop and fax. To take on even one more project would be insane.

Perhaps there was another solution, and out of respect for the man’s losses and the close connections between their families… “What if I arrange something with this office? Your mother is still my partner in that particular venture.”

He shook his head decidedly. “I want you.”

Max and everyone else. But there was some childish, forbidden and undeniably sick part of her that thrilled to hear those words. Ugh. She waved him off with a dismissive hand. “Unavailable. I’m tired. Can’t you see the circles under my eyes?”

He gave her a sideways glance. “You look fantastic.”

“The concealer I’m wearing is fantastic. Underneath…not so much.”

“Are you fishing for compliments? I’ll gladly give them, Lily Susan.”

Lily Susan.

What was it about her name said in that voice that still dissolved her insides into jelly? Even when he was arguing with her?

She would not dignify his comment with a response. He took the last turn out of the Valley onto the road that would lead to the house where she’d grown up. She had no desire whatsoever to continue this conversation, so she whipped out her BlackBerry and logged on to Twitter.

Okay, so who leaked my travel plans? LOL I arrived safely in my hometown to find the media waiting. Unexpected but lovely reception. Hello again, Pleasant Valley! Blessings to all;-)

Lily depressed the send button, tweeting her followers on the status of her arrival.

What she really wanted to write was: Hell is a real place, people, not some fiery netherworld across death. It’s right here on earth in a town deceptively named Pleasant Valley. I know because I’m in it.

CHAPTER THREE

WHAT WAS IT about Lily Susan that always took Max so off guard? He wasn’t sure. But he was on edge. The feeling was vaguely familiar. He resisted the urge to flip on the radio and nix the possibility of further conversation when she fell silent, so obviously annoyed.

She thought he was a jerk. Maybe he was. But there was a method to his madness. She needed to plan Raymond’s wedding—not an assistant. Because it was Lily Susan herself who garnered publicity. And his brother-in-law needed all the free publicity he could get to launch his political campaign. Max would see that it happened. Period. Besides, her own family was worried about her and wanted her to stay in town as long as possible.

While he was uncomfortable pushing himself onto Lily Susan, he wouldn’t back down. She was the one Angelica who had never felt much like part of the family. To him, anyway. But he didn’t have room to talk, since he wasn’t technically family, either.

But long ago Max had learned that Joe and Rosie Angelica operated on a philosophy that transcended blood. Family by love, they called it. Through the years, Max had learned those ties bound tight. He’d been grateful for this family since long before he’d even understood what he was grateful for.

Love and support. Selflessness instead of selfishness. The things that counted as far as Max was concerned.

Looking for a place to park in front of the neatly kept house, Max wondered if his passenger’s mood would be improved by her welcome committee. Cars filled the driveway and spilled into the cul-de-sac. No one would dare park on the lawn, lest they incur Joe’s wrath.

“Wow, I thought everyone would be at work or school.”

Max couldn’t tell whether or not a big reception was a good thing. “You’re surprised?”

“Not surprised,” was all she said as he maneuvered the car against a curb.

“I’ll bring your things inside,” he told her.

“Thanks. No hurry.”

She didn’t move though, and he thought she was waiting for him to get her door. He had his own opened before noticing how still she was. In his periphery, he saw her inhale deeply.

Nerves? From a woman who could work the media and address massive crowds in her sleep? That couldn’t be right. By the time he circled the car and got her door, he found Lily Susan her usual gracious, poised self.

They wove a path through the cars, her long, lean legs easily matching his pace. Max wasn’t surprised by the royal welcome. This family had been waiting a long time for their youngest to come home.

He got a welcome reception himself when the screen door shot open and his daughter appeared.

She skipped down the stairs with a light step, black ponytail bobbing, excitement glowing from her.

His pulse lurched at the sight. It was a familiar reaction, the instant he came face-to-face with the fact that everything that mattered in his life was all wrapped up in his little girl. There was always a second of awe that she was real.

And alive.

“Daddy!”

Max wished that squeal of delighted glee had to do with him as much as their guest. But his daughter was caught up in the excitement of Lily Susan’s homecoming.

Striding ahead, he braced himself as Madeleine leaped into his arms. Catching her against him, he twirled her around, eliciting another squeal—this one all for him. She tilted her cheek for a kiss, but her curious gaze fixed over his shoulder on the woman behind him.

“Is that her?” Madeleine asked almost reverently.

Max kissed her again to hide his smile. “It is. I’ll introduce you.”

Letting his daughter slide to the ground, he straightened. To his surprise, he found Lily Susan already dropping to Madeleine’s height, which brought his attention to her graceful neck and feminine shoulders in a way he’d have to be dead not to notice.

But he was only dead on the inside.

Smiling warmly, she extended her hand. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Madeleine. Ça fait plaisir de te revoir. Nous nous sommes rencontrés quand tu étais une petite fille. Regarde-toi. Tu as grandis pour être très, très belle.”

“Merci, madame.” Madeleine beamed, clearly surprised their guest spoke French. Grown up and beautiful—a double compliment if Max’s translation was close. His French was rudimentary at best. She politely replied how pleased she was to see Lily Susan again, too, but Max knew his daughter had no memory of their previous meeting. She’d barely been two the last time Lily Susan had graced the family with her presence.

Felicia had spoken French to their daughter since birth even though her parents had moved to the States before she or Raymond had been born. Max had kept up the tutoring by bringing an au pair from France who was a relative of the Girard family.

Lily Susan had told him she’d been keeping up with his family, and he was astounded she was interested in what was happening in a place she couldn’t find time to visit.

He was also astounded by the way she engaged his daughter in a chat about kindergarten and teachers and friends—in a random mix of English and French Felicia would have appreciated.

Kneeling in the leaf-strewn yard, Lily Susan listened intently to a story about the student-of-the-week breakfast reception that served cookies. Her whiskey-gold hair tumbled down her back, and her long skirt emphasized sleek legs as she wrapped her arms around her knees and nodded in all the appropriate places.

His daughter was generally reserved around strangers, but with the attention Lily Susan graciously provided, she was shedding her shell.

“You got to be on The Morning Show with your student-of-the-week ribbon, too? Wow. Does everyone watch The Morning Show?”

“Oui, madame.” Madeleine beamed. “Even the fifth graders and the patrols.”

Lily Susan gave a suitably impressed gasp. And he was impressed she knew what an elementary-school patrol was.

They made quite a sight. Lily Susan in all her designer-clothes glory. Madeleine, still bearing evidence of summer swimming lessons and weekends spent at the lake. She’d been nut-brown by Labor Day, compliments of Moroccan ancestors. He wondered if their son would have had his mother’s skin, too.

Not the first time he’d wondered.

“Aunt Lily Susan!” More squeals as the screen door creaked open and Riley’s twins burst onto the porch.

“We’ll make time later to chat.” Lily Susan gave Madeleine’s hands a little squeeze before she stood. “I want to hear more about your appearance on The Morning Show.”

His daughter nodded eagerly then Lily Susan was spreading her arms wide to greet her new visitors.

“My little twinnies!”

Riley’s kids weren’t so little anymore. Jake and Camille were a whopping almost nine years old, as Jake was fond of reminding everyone. But they were thrilled to see their aunt, and he witnessed firsthand the results of Riley’s determination to keep everyone in touch with text, email and phone calls.

Max bore a similar responsibility. Felicia’s family was all Madeleine would ever have of her mother. If his in-laws hadn’t been so accessible, he would have made the same effort as Riley.

He hung on to his daughter’s hand while Lily Susan hugged her niece and nephew. “I can’t believe how tall you’ve both gotten. How long has it been since I’ve seen you—a year?”

“Not a year, silly.” Camille laughed. “We saw you this summer. Don’t you remember we went on the boat ride to the Statue of Liberty?”

“How could I forget? You hid so we missed the ferry back.”

Camille giggled and Lily Susan ruffled that white-blond head fondly.

“You’re such a little squirrel,” she said. “It just feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”

While Lily Susan laughed and chattered cheerily, she seemed to be hanging on to the twins for dear life, unable to stop touching and kissing them. Did she see her brother in them? Max remembered how close she and Mike had been.

“Well, it’s about damned time,” a loud voice boomed from the doorway. Joey appeared with his wife, Sarah, behind him, and shoved open the screen door so hard the hinges groaned. “Your father’s about to disown you because he can’t remember what you look like.”

Actually, Joey was the one about to disown his baby sister, as Max well knew.

“Then he must be getting senile since I saw him two months ago,” Lily Susan replied.

Angelicas poured onto the lawn calling out greetings. That was the last Max saw of Lily Susan as the family converged on her. He knew they would all wind up in the kitchen, so he broke from the crowd and headed to the car to unload the luggage.

Madeleine didn’t want any part of leaving the chaos. She stuck like glue to Camille, who stuck like glue to her aunt. He wasn’t surprised his daughter was so caught up in the whole Wedding Angel craze. Lily Susan was the family celebrity, and Madeleine had been listening to everyone discuss her long-awaited return. Particularly Camille, who idolized her aunt and with whom Madeleine spent a good deal of time.

Riley’s twins were the youngest of all the Angelica cousins, so Madeleine was a welcome addition at family gatherings as the one person who was younger. For Camille anyway, who enjoyed sharing girl things like manicures and hairstyles—the types of activities mothers and daughters shared, but daddies were uncomfortable with, no matter how hard they tried.

And try though Max might, the nuances of shimmery nail polish escaped him.

He’d barely reached the car when he realized that Scott had caught up with him.

“Need a hand?” he asked.

Max nodded. “Anyone but Lily Susan, and I’d think she was moving in for good.”

Scott eyed the hatch and backseat stacked with suitcases and nodded. “Sure looks like it.”

Max liked Scott Emerson. He was another honorary Angelica family member. He’d been Mike’s partner on the vice squad before Mike had met Riley. Scott was now the chief of detectives, and if Max’s sources were correct—which they usually were—Scott was being groomed to become Poughkeepsie’s chief of police.

Once he married Riley, he wouldn’t be an honorary member of the Angelicas anymore. He’d be the real deal.

Between them, they managed the luggage with one trip and headed inside by way of the garage. They couldn’t escape the chaos, which had started trickling in by the time they’d stowed the bags in Lily Susan’s old bedroom upstairs. Max got trapped on the staircase behind Scott, unable to make his way into the hallway through the crowd burrowing to get in from the cold.

An expectant hush fell over the noisy family when Lily Susan approached the stairs. While she’d known of the relationship developing between Scott and Riley for a long time and had agreed to plan the wedding, Lily Susan hadn’t actually seen Scott in person since the engagement.

“Finally, here’s the groom. I wondered where you were.” She stopped the flow of traffic and smiled at him, obliging him to step off the stairs for a hug.

Max heard her whisper, “Couldn’t ask for anyone better to be dad to my little twinnies.”

Her gracious acceptance smoothed over a tough moment, and the effect was visible. Scott gave her a hug that practically lifted her off the ground. “Welcome home, Lily Susan. Thanks for making the trip.”

“Wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.” When she was on her feet again, she winked at him. “Even if I didn’t need to plan the whole thing.”

With a laugh he moved to let traffic pass, and Max caught sight of Riley and her suspiciously misty gaze.

Bravo for Lily Susan. She might have been away from the family for a while, but distance didn’t mean she couldn’t come through for the people who loved her when it counted.

And that was a very Angelica trait.

CHAPTER FOUR

MAX CAUGHT UP with his daughter again, and they made their way through the kitchen to the adjoining dining room, where so many chairs had been jammed around the table people would be practically sitting on top of each other. Sturdy card tables had been added on both ends to eliminate the need to separate adults and kids. This made Madeleine happy, but there were so many place settings another fork couldn’t be set between them. He wondered where Rosie intended to put the food.

“Come on, come on. Find a seat.” Joe herded everyone into the dining room impatiently. “Lily Susan, you sit there.”

Max watched Lily Susan head to her honorary place at the center of the table, knowing he didn’t stand a chance at getting close. The best he could do was grab a spot across from her, where he had a decent view.

He was surprised by how much he wanted a view. Lily Susan had changed into casual sportswear, the fabric clinging to her every lean curve.

Thankfully the chaos distracted him from thoughts that were traveling in unexpected directions. Everyone knew the drill and was soon crammed elbow-to-elbow. Joey and his wife Sarah and their three kids. Caroline and her husband Alex and their three kids. Riley and Scott and the twins. Only Joe didn’t sit. He was the pulse of the family, with his bald head and hearty laughter—the one who roused everyone into action, the one they all went to for advice or opinions.

And if Joe was the pulse, then Rosie was the heart. She set the tone with her hugs. When she was happy, her nicknames for everyone were happy. Her husband was Joe and her son Joey. When she wasn’t, though, those nicknames were warnings. Joe and Joey became Old Man and Little Boy or Fat Joe and Healthy Joe when she was on a tear about someone’s eating habits.