Orange Blossom Brides

“I’ve already installed the new security system at the office. Your mother made sure I had it completed before the loaner gowns arrived.”

“That’s not why I’m here. You haven’t returned her follow-up calls.”

He inwardly groaned. “For the charity thing, right?”

“Yes. She’d like an answer.”

“The chief said your mother wouldn’t stop calling until I talked to her.”

“Then you know just how persistent she is. That’s why she sent me here.”

“Not to cause me more trouble?”

“Of course not.” She lifted her chin.

“Miss Barclay... It is Miss?” he couldn’t help asking. And thinking, why was her marital status important? In light of their history, he shouldn’t care, but found that he did. And wanted to kick himself for it.

“Yes.”

Even though she owed him, she didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. One glance at her set mouth and he decided to bide his time. He picked up a pen and tapped it on a notepad. “Your mother mentioned that she wanted me to volunteer for the benefit. What did she have in mind?”

She looked at the pen in his hand, then back at him. “You already know the Cypress Pointe Historical Society is holding their annual fund-raiser in three weeks.” She handed him a white invitation. “Tie the Knot charity wedding fashion show. At the Cypress Pointe Country Club. My mother has requested that you act as one of her volunteer grooms for the night. She felt that in your capacity as security for the event, this role as a groom would work out well. She’d be sure to have someone watching over the expensive donations during the event, but not calling attention to your undercover status. She doesn’t want to upset the guests. ”

He stared at her, trying not to flinch. No way. No possible way. “Are you kidding?”

She tilted her head. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression your answer is a formality.”

“I agreed to upgrade security at the historical society office and for the jewelry collection. Nothing else.”

“And the night of the benefit? At the club?”

“We hadn’t exactly nailed down the details for the night of the event. Your mother and I keep playing phone tag.”

“She had to go out of town and she asked me to handle it.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You know the history of the Wingate jewelry?”

“Yes.” He nodded at his computer. “I read the file.”

“Then you know the collection is worth a lot of money.”

Oh, yeah. He’d noticed.

“We can go into the particulars at a later date, but I need to know that you’re on board and you’ll have things under control the night of the benefit.”

A fresh rush of anger swept over him. “First you show up at my office, now you question the quality of my work?”

Her eyes went wide. “No. Of course not.” She ran a hand over her skirt. “I’m sorry. My mother recently put the responsibility of the benefit in my hands and I’m playing catch-up.” She tried for a smile. “And it would really help us out if you volunteered.”

Hmm... Well, he supposed it would be a good way to keep an eye on things. But still... “Volunteer groom, huh?”

“It is a town tradition, after all.”

He snorted. “I don’t think I could pass as a groom, volunteer or not. I’m not a settling down kinda guy.”

She shifted, giving him the once-over. If he read her right, she silently agreed with him. “You do realize it’s just for one night. And afterwards, your P.I. business will get publicity.”

“Private security consultant.”

She pulled some papers from her bag. “My notes read P.I.” She looked at him, confused. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“My major focus is security, but I do some investigating on the side.”

He did P.I. work while waiting for the security end of the business to build up, so he could focus on that full time. He’d piled all of his own savings into this venture so he needed these short-term cases to generate revenue. Once he landed one large account, the word would get out and he’d be on his way to making Sanders Security a high-end firm.

“That’s all well and good, but I need a commitment from you. The money raised will go toward deserving organizations. Did I mention this year the funds will help the local animal shelter as well as the historical society?”

He groaned. Animal shelter? He’d found Jake there, half-starved and in desperate need of a home. His home. He’d never forget those beautiful pleading eyes staring up at him. Just like the pair staring at him now.

Okay, he had to take time to consider this. Volunteer groom aside, was his pride more important than his empty bank account? More important than proving his services were needed in this town? Right now, he needed to capitalize on being the sole security consultant in town. But would the exposure bring in business, or would his professional image take a hit with the whole cheesy-groom thing? He might not be taken seriously after that.

Considering all that, he studied her. Did she think she had him? With her composed smile, he couldn’t tell.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want to let those poor defenseless animals down. We’re only asking for a few hours of your time.”

The alluring female had grabbed hold of his attention and wouldn’t let go. Just as she had that night twelve years ago. Their gazes clashed, but she gave nothing away. All business, not trying to flatter him or outwardly flirt with him, not trying to use her womanly wiles to get him to say yes. Wait. Why wasn’t she flattering or flirting? He didn’t want the answer to that particular question.

“The animal shelter?” he asked, dragging out the minutes.

“Yes,” she replied, cool victory evident in her voice. He detected a small curve of her lips, ready to smile in triumph the moment he acquiesced. If he acquiesced. “It’s a very good organization, I can assure you, since I work with them.”

He hadn’t gotten a hard-nosed reputation for nothing. And she looked as though she could use a little shaking up, if her buttoned-up-tight persona gave any indication. What had happened to the fun girl he’d met on the beach that night long ago?

Lost in the staccato beat of the tapping pen, Max pretended to mull over her request.

“Must you keep doing that?”

The pen stopped midair.

“Doing what?”

She nodded toward the pen.

“Sorry.” The tapping may be bothering her, but her starchy condescension peeved him. Instead of saying yes, so he could get back to work, he decided to go another way. One that would give him long overdue satisfaction. “And you’ll be attending? As a bride?”

“Not as a bride.” Her eyes widened for a second before that less-than-confident smile slipped back into place. She tucked her hair behind her ear again. Great. Even her earlobes were cute. “As I said, I’m coordinating the event.”

“So, you’re not going?”

“I didn’t say that. It depends if my mother is back in town by then.”

He pondered his decision, purposely dragging out the minutes, before saying, “My answer is still no.”

“But what about security for the jewelry?”

“That I can do, but not as a groom.”

“My mother really wants you to do this. Think of it as a plug for your business. I can certainly do some publicity work for you that won’t give away your status during the event.”

“The job she hired me to do didn’t include groom duty.”

“It’s just a minor change. You’ll hardly be inconvenienced.”

“Unlike the night we met?”

She pursed her lips. The regret in her eyes said it all. And for some perverse reason, even though it shouldn’t matter now, he needed to know why she’d turned him in.

“It was confusing. Look, I also ended up in the back of a police car,” she told him, her voice tight and controlled. “Then sat at the police station for hours with you fuming and not speaking to me.”

“Really? You want to complain? Where did you go afterward?”

Her face colored again. “Home.”

“Right. I went off to juvenile detention. So I think you need to make that up to me.”

Her posture went all stiff. “How do you propose I do that?”

“I propose you accept that I will not be a groom. Not for the benefit. Not ever.”

Displeasure crossed her face. “I could ask someone else.”

He may have started out making demands for payback, but now he was just having fun. “You could, and you should. I’m out.”

She considered that for a second. He’d expected a snarky reply, but instead she said, “Fine. You’re right. You’re aren’t the groom type.”

“And you know that how?”

“By the fact that you’re being very disagreeable.”

“I’m sure there are lots of disagreeable grooms. Doesn’t make me a type.”

She frowned then asked, “Do you own a tux?”

“Never needed one.”

Her gaze dropped to his faded T-shirt. “Any formal attire?”

She gave him an assessing look, cringing over his less-than-designer jeans and faded T-shirt and boots, his usual stakeout attire, which he wore for the job he had scheduled for later this morning. Or maybe the stubble he’d failed to shave. Okay, so maybe he needed a haircut, but he’d been too busy to worry about it. Still, she didn’t have to look down that impertinent, freckled nose of hers.

He scrubbed a hand over his chin.

She had a standoffish look about her that rubbed him the wrong way. And the prissy way she perched on the chair, like she didn’t want to get her skirt wrinkled? Well, that toasted him, too.

It took a few seconds for him to respond. Poised on the tip of his tongue hovered “none of your business,” but how juvenile would that sound? “I have nice clothes. In fact, I just ordered work shirts with Sanders Security stitched on the front.”

She smirked at him, clearly thinking she had the upper hand.

“Right. Whatever. Look, I’ll be at the historical society offices tomorrow to test the system, and I’ll drop off a proposal for the security of the jewelry collection. Nothing more.”

Her lips tightened a fraction before she said, “That’s your final answer?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yep. Final answer.” He didn’t owe her more than that. He and Miss Prickly had nothing in common except a night on the beach that had ended before they’d had a chance to get started.

She stood. Something about her, a vulnerability she couldn’t disguise, made him think of the carefree girl he’d once met. It also managed to soften the hard edges of his heart.

“Thank you. The historical society appreciates your support.” She gathered her things and rushed out of his office, a waft of alluring perfume in her wake.

Max sat there for a moment, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut. Her walking through the door had caught him off guard. To be honest, he hadn’t thought about her in years. Even when he’d decided to return to Cypress Pointe, he’d had only a passing notion that he might run into her again. But this way? Because of a charity event?

Working for the historical society meant access to future clients, just by word of mouth alone. Cypress Pointe was a small town, after all. He’d make connections, secure a few more jobs. Positive. But the negative? Working with the new charity coordinator, a woman who happened to be from his past. A past he’d worked hard to overcome, although sometimes it felt as if he’d fallen short.

Sitting back in his chair, he realized that his life had taken a hard right turn when she’d walked into his office. No. Today’s visit had only ramped things up. Really, it’d started for him the night at the beach. The anger still simmered, but when he pictured her pretty face, a surprising spark of interest ignited.

No. No way. He had to put her out of his mind. They might be connected by this historical society project, but he didn’t have to like it.

CHAPTER TWO

OF ALL THE rotten luck.

Why did the one guy she needed to convince to attend the benefit end up being the guy she met on the beach twelve years ago? One night. One night she goes all crazy and sneaks out of the house, only to end up in police custody.

See, that’s what happens when you try to be something you’re not. You end up flirting with a cute boy who grows into an even more attractive man. At least now she was smart enough not to end up in a police car at the end of the night.

She hoped so, anyway.

She entered the historical society office, still shaking her head over her meeting with Max.

“How did it go, dear?” Mrs. Rumpold asked before Lilli made it all the way through the door.

“He refused.”

“Oh, no. Your mother won’t be happy.”

Yeah. Lilli already knew that.

“Didn’t you use your feminine charms to convince Max? It’s my experience that no man alive can resist a woman if she sends out the right signals.”

Okay. First, female charms had nothing to do with it. Max didn’t want to be a groom, as he’d so adamantly let her know. Now she had to figure out what to do, because knowing her mother, his refusal would definitely upset her well-organized life. Even, if she didn’t factor in the old anger at how that night had ended, he’d made it clear he would only attend Tie the Knot in a security capacity. She rubbed her temples.

And second, right signals? Lilli regarded the older woman with surprise. She hardly seemed the type of woman with...experiences. Not that Lilli would ask.

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” Mrs. Rumpold said. The historical society secretary had to be seventy if she was a day. “I may be a bit worn around the edges, but there are a few tried-and-true tricks to catch a man’s eye.” At least five inches shorter than Lilli and two times as wide with a halo of short, curly gray hair, there was clearly more to Mrs. Rumpold than met the eye.

“Mrs. Rumpold, what are you suggesting?”

“Please, call me Mrs. R.” The older woman gave a saucy grin, as if she were about to reveal some truly juicy secrets. “And I’m not suggesting anything. I’m saying. First of all, there’s the eye wink. Make sure you wear lots of mascara to make a statement. Next, the finger wave.” She demonstrated, and Lilli suppressed a groan.

“And the hair flip,” Mrs. R. continued. “Shows your fun, flirtatious side.” With a flick of the wrist she tossed her silvery curls. Since they were permed tight, not much happened, but Lilli got the idea.

“It works every time,” Mrs. R. intoned with sage wisdom.

Lilli held back a smile. Maybe in the nineteen-fifties, but not today. Today if she did that, people would think she had serious problems. And besides, she had no interest in catching a man’s eye right now.

“I can’t imagine any single men able to resist a lovely young woman such as you.”

Yeah, Lilli knew that by the oodles of men lined up at her door. Right now she only concentrated on her job. The promotion. The added headache of the charity event. She had enough on her plate—she didn’t need Max Sanders. He’d directed his smoky gaze at her once before, and she’d melted on the spot. Look where that had gotten her. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

But for a split second she’d wondered if he would find her attractive after all these years. Would he even want to flirt with her again? No. Not after the way she’d turned him in that night at the beach. She couldn’t change the past any more than he could, but his reaction when he’d recognized her said he definitely didn’t want anything to do with her.

“The display wedding dresses will be arriving this weekend.” Mrs. R. changed the subject as she rambled on. Her wrinkled face beamed with pleasure. “What a stroke of luck that you know the curator of the vintage collection. I’m sure you can’t wait to see the how they look.”

Actually, wedding dresses weren’t high on her priority list at that moment in time. Hard to get excited when she’d been dumped the night before her wedding, not to mention that she wasn’t even dating at the moment.

Mrs. R. jabbered on. “They will be exhibited here all spring and summer. We were so fortunate to get vintage gowns from the private collection of Renata Ogilvy. What a boost for the society. Your mother pulled out the stops this year.”

“Yes, she did,” Lilli agreed, more overwhelmed than impressed. But then, her mother often rubbed elbows with high-profile people like Renata, a retired fashion designer who had set the New York fashion scene on fire during her heyday.

Even though her mother knew the designer, Lilli had a connection to the curator, Gabrielle, an old friend from college. When her mother first thought up the wedding show, she’d batted around some ideas with Lilli. Since Lilli kept in touch with Gab and knew she worked for Renata, she offered to get in touch. After a few calls, Lilli got the go-ahead to showcase priceless vintage gowns, Renata’s own along with other famous designers’, from Renata’s private collection. She’d thought that would be the end of her involvement with the benefit. Until her mother had left town.

“Oh, before I forget.” Mrs. R. thrust a full-to-overflowing accordion folder at Lilli, who barely caught it, glossy photos spilling onto the already messy desk. As she gathered them together, a flurry of lace and satin bridal designs dredged up an interest she refused to acknowledge. “Keep the file so you can give it a look-see. You’ll need the pictures when you write up the fashion show fliers and program.”

“When I what?”

“Your mother didn’t get that far before she left on her emergency, so you’ll have to do it. It’s all right there on the list.” The older woman tapped the paper she’d clipped to the side of the file. “You already do that for your day job, don’t you?”

She nodded. Lilli did media research on products and wrote up reports, sometimes put together descriptive brochures or information booklets for clients and worked to find ways to best promote her clients. Besides being involved through her contact with Gab and the designer gowns, she’d done some of the publicity for Tie the Knot at her mother’s request, playing up the charity and the chance to view one-of-a-kind wedding gowns and exquisite jewelry.

“There are also ideas for the reception decorations in there. You know, flowers and doodads that make up the whole wedding experience.”

“I have to plan a mock reception, too?”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. R. nodded.

Please. Like she wanted to do that all over again.

“Some of the ladies have opinions, but your mother has been cutting ideas out of magazines for months now.” Mrs. R. leaned closer to Lilli, her tone conspiratorial. “A word of warning—Marisa Vandermere wanted to fill in as coordinator, but your mother turned her down. She’s not happy about that. She’ll most likely think she’s still in charge, because, well, she’s Marisa. Don’t let her railroad you. We’re on a tight schedule. The benefit is less than three weeks away.” Mrs. R. nodded at the file. “Everything you need to complete the fashion show is in the file.”

Great. She had to coordinate dresses, write fliers and plan an entire reception in just three weeks while trying to get a promotion at work. Now she had to work with her childhood nemesis, as well?

What have you gotten me into, Mom?

Lilli closed her eyes. She couldn’t renege now, not when her mother needed her. Just as Lilli had needed Celeste the night of the rehearsal dinner, doing damage control and canceling the wedding after Lilli fled the scene, demoralized beyond words. Yes, her mother had come through for her when Lilli needed her most. So she’d do the same as stand-in coordinator. Once the entire event ended, she’d go back to focusing entirely on her job.

With a sigh Lilli glanced at her watch. Just past ten. Her boss had given her this morning to deal with historical society business, but he wouldn’t be too pleased if she screwed up the Canine Candy presentation for the Natural Puppy account.

“Is there anything else, Mrs. Rumpold?”

“Mr. Sanders will be here tomorrow to test the security system. I’m assuming he told you.”

“He did. I can’t be here, but he is going to drop off a proposal I’ll need to read.” She couldn’t afford to take more time off. And, she admitted, she didn’t want to be around Max unless absolutely necessary.

Coward. Yeah, there was that, too.

Mrs. R.’s face went all dreamy. “I’ll make sure he leaves it here.”

Lilli blinked, then hid a smile. Someone had a crush.

“And don’t forget the event committee meeting. Nine o’clock Saturday morning. At the club.”

Of course. The club. She’d stayed far away from that place, hoping distance would dilute the miserable memories of the night Rob had dumped her. Time had anesthetized her heart, but her mind still carried the images as if they’d occurred yesterday.

“I’ll be there” she replied glumly, before escaping to work.

* * ** * *

AFTER MRS. R. DROPPED the news that she’d be planning the mock reception, Lilli sat in her car, staring at the file. More documents to add to the already overflowing files her mother had provided. She needed to get a huge tote bag to hold all this stuff. Sighing, she dug her mother’s files from her purse to place in the passenger seat until she had a chance to get a bigger bag. As she moved them, the top folder flipped open, revealing a newspaper article. Curious, Lilli started to read.

The article—eleven years old, she noted—from the Cypress Pointe Weekly, announced Max Sanders’s admission into the navy. Her gaze moved over the picture. Tall and lean, with short dark hair and austere features, a very masculine Max Sanders filled out his uniform. His stern expression said, “Don’t mess with me.”

And she had.

She slapped the file shut.

The guy still got to her, although she couldn’t say why. Then or now.

When she’d met him that night at the beach, he’d spelled trouble. The long, shaggy hair and cocky attitude had been the first sign. But when he focused on her, with that lopsided grin and those intense gray eyes, he’d had her. She’d ignored the warning bells clamoring in her head. She’d always been the good girl, the one who’d gotten straight A’s and never made her parents miserable. She’d already had her goals set out, knew which college she would attend.

That evening long ago, her parents had gotten into the worst argument ever, and per standard operating procedure, had drawn her into the middle, the convenient pawn in their troubled game. This was the first time divorce had come up in the conversation. As much as she had anticipated a split between them, it had still rocked her world. Disgusted and angry at the situation her parents had put themselves and her in, Lilli hadn’t thought twice when her friend Nealy had called to see if she wanted to sneak down to the beach.

She hadn’t known what to expect, since she’d never done anything like that before. Then Max walked by and the earth shifted. He stopped to talk to Nealy and the guy she’d come to hang out with. Then he glanced at Lilli. Their eyes met. Her stomach tilted and tipped. A slow smile spread over his lips, and he made his way over. Her inner flirt, which she didn’t even know existed, materialized. They bantered and teased. For the first time in her life, Lilli felt powerful and in control.

And when he kissed her? Let’s just say she’d experienced a little bit of heaven.

Lilli frowned down at the folder. This time her stomach burned with regret. Never in her wildest imagination had she thought she’d ever run into Max again. And when she did? He still held a grudge.

Against her better judgment, she opened the file to stare down at his photo again.

The young man in the picture had matured from the teen she remembered. The uniform and serious expression threw her off, because she still recalled him as the cocky guy who’d swept her off her feet. After years of hanging around country-club boys, she’d found Max’s bad-boy vibe very exciting and had fallen for his charm.

When the group of boys decided to throw firecrackers, which were illegal on the public beach, into the bonfire, her excitement level skyrocketed. Why had she missed out on all this fun? Her parents didn’t care about her. Why should she care about them? She had the attention of a cute guy and she’d never felt more alive.