Stephanie Julian - No Reservations

He’d gone along with everything because he’d loved Mia.

“Tyler? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bombard you with all these questions. It’s okay if you don’t—”

“No, Kate.” He shook his head and reached for her hands, twisted into a knot on her lap. He wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed. “Sorry. I just kind of zoned out there for a minute.”

“What were you thinking about?”

He paused. “My fiancée.”

“Do you want to talk about her?”

No. Not at all. “Would you like to talk about your ex-fiancé?”

He wanted to take back the words as soon as they left his mouth. Damn it, he hadn’t meant to sound so damn defensive, especially in the state she was in.

Mia would have broken down in a hysterical mess if he’d said the same to her

Kate laughed, a short burst of sound that hit him low in the gut. “Touché. Okay, so no talking about former partners. How about you tell me the story behind the Salon? That should take my mind off of other things.”

For a second, he couldn’t believe she’d let it go so easily. Mia—

Kate wasn’t Mia. And he had to remember that.

“I wasn’t really involved in the inception of the Salon, but I know Jared’s inspiration comes from his interest in Victorian erotica.”

“Not something you typically hear guys get worked up about.”

Tyler slid a grin in her direction. “Have you met my brother? He’s not exactly the poster child for typical.”

“No, Jared definitely is not typical. But then neither is Annabelle.”

“They suit each other.”

He glanced over and caught Kate’s smile. Damn, he really liked making her smile.

“Yes, they do. Seeing them together helped me realize what I’d be giving up if I married Arnie.” Her smile disappeared. “I decided I didn’t want to live half a life.”

Something in her voice made him want to dig a little deeper. “What do you mean?”

She paused so long he wasn’t sure she was going to answer.

Finally, she said, “My mom . . . She was never really happy. When you’re a kid, you know how you pick up on things that you know aren’t right but you can’t really figure out what’s going on?”

He nodded, his jaw tightening as images of his own mother’s troubled past crowded to the forefront. “Yeah, I do.”

“I didn’t realize until I was about thirteen or so that my mom wanted to be a photojournalist. I thought she’d always wanted to teach college. Then one night, I heard her and my dad arguing. That wasn’t unusual. My dad was born in Reading, but my grandparents are from Korea. He’s never been a real affectionate person. It just wasn’t how he was raised. But my mom was Italian.” She stopped to shake her head, her smile bemused. “They met at college and, according to my mom, it was love at first sight. My dad defied his parents to marry my mom, and Mom gave up her dream of traveling the world for him.

“My dad’s parents have been gone for years and we didn’t see them much growing up. My mom’s parents got over the fact that their daughter married a guy who acted like he had a stick up his butt and I think they were relieved that she wasn’t going to fly off to some foreign country and never return.”

“Sounds stressful.”

She nodded, gaze fixed on a point in the distance. “Yeah, I guess it was. But when you’re in it, and you’re a kid, you don’t really understand it. I mean, you know it’s going on but you can’t really do anything about it. I only figured out what was really going on when I was in college. I knew my mom was unhappy and I thought it had to be my dad’s fault.”

Pausing, she sighed before looking up at him with a rueful smile. “But nothing’s ever that simple, is it?”

Considering his parents’ problems, he knew that for a fact. “No, it’s not.”

She must have heard something in his voice because she paused again, staring up at him. But she didn’t press him on it. “After she died, I blamed my dad for a lot of stuff that probably wasn’t his fault.”

“But you still returned home after college.”

He didn’t phrase it as a question but she had to know he’d meant it as one.

She shrugged. “I love my dad.”

As if it was that easy. And maybe it was.

Jed had had a tough time forgiving their father for his indiscretions. Tyler had realized at a much younger age that their parents’ marriage had gaping wounds that might never be healed.

He’d never wanted to go through that with his own wife.

Which had made Mia perfect for him.

The perfect doll who never talked back.

And that was totally unfair.

“So do you still want to be a costume designer?”

“Yes.” She spoke without any hesitation. “But I have to be realistic. The time for that might have come and gone. It would’ve been easier to get an apprenticeship right out of college, when I had the contacts with my professors.”

“But it’s not like you’re over the hill. You’ve been working in the field—”

Her short, sharp laugh cut him off. “I don’t think hemming pants and suit jackets qualifies as working in the field.”

“And the lingerie and wedding design don’t either? I think you’re selling yourself a little short.”

He snuck a quick glance at her—traffic was getting heavier the closer they got to Reading—and did a double take at her smile. Holy shit. That one could cut him off at the knees.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence. But all you’ve seen are little bits of lace and satin so far.”

“And two beautiful fairy costumes. And the dress you wore last night was stunning.”

Another pause. “Thank you. I don’t . . . Thank you, Tyler.”

She laid her hand over his on the steering wheel and he wanted to twine their fingers together and bring it to his mouth, but that seemed like a gesture a lover would make.

He wasn’t sure they were at that stage yet. But he was fast realizing he wanted to be.

And that kind of scared the shit out of him.

The knot in the pit of Kate’s stomach tightened as they stopped in front of the church less than an hour later. For all that Tyler seemed like such a steady-as-he-goes guy, he had a lead foot.

Which she so appreciated at the moment.

She had the door open before the car came to a complete stop behind another car she recognized. Jared and Annabelle were already here.

Kate had a quick moment to panic over where to go. She didn’t figure anyone was in the church yet. The bride-to-be was probably in one of the ancillary rooms in one of the wings off the church but—

“Kate! Thank God! Over here.”

Talia stood in an open doorway to the left of the church entrance, waving at her frantically.

Kate had almost expected to see the normally unflappable event planner with her hair standing on end and her shirttails hanging out, but she should’ve known better.

Talia’s dove gray suit hung perfectly, every line immaculate. Every strand of wheat blonde hair remained in place in an elegant twist on the back of her head.

It was only when she looked in Talia’s wide turquoise eyes that Kate saw panic.

Shit, this was bad.

Forcing down her own fear that wanted to eat her alive, Kate ran for the door.

“Where’s Annabelle?”

“With Maggie trying to keep her calm.”

“How bad is it?”

Talia’s lips flattened until they almost disappeared and Kate’s stomach flipped.

“That bad.”

“Bad enough.” Talia took a deep breath and Kate found herself following suit as they hurried down a long hall. Kate tried not to let images of a torn bodice cloud her mind.

She had to keep her head, no matter what.