Judy Duarte: His Mother's Wedding

“I’m fine, thank you.” Molly took his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her skin was soft, cool. Her fingers delicate. Her nails unpolished, plain yet filed neatly. Silver heart charms dangled from a chain on her wrist.

His gaze locked on hers, and he studied her eyes, the brilliant shade of green, the tiny gold flecks. The thick, spiky lashes that didn’t need mascara.

Shake it off, he reprimanded himself. This lady was a friend of his mom’s, for God’s sake. Looking for a husband and kids, no doubt.

In the past, his mom had tried to play matchmaker by introducing him to women like Molly. But Rico hadn’t taken the bait. Hopefully she’d learned her lesson, since it had been a while since she’d tried to set him up.

Molly flashed him another pretty smile that damn near knocked the wind out of him, then slowly pulled her fingers from his grasp.

Had he held her hand a few seconds too long? He hadn’t meant to. But he wasn’t going to stress about it. It had to happen to her all the time.

“Molly and I met when I was shopping at Betty’s Bridal Boutique,” his mom said.

Oh, yeah. The wedding. It had completely slipped his mind the moment he strode into the room and laid eyes on Molly.

They’d met at Betty’s Bridal Boutique, huh? Had the pretty blonde been looking for a wedding dress, too?

That wouldn’t surprise him. He imagined a lot of guys would want to stake a permanent claim on an attractive woman like her.

“And with Molly’s help,” his mom said, “I found the perfect dress. It’s off-white, with a pearl-encrusted bodice. And it was on sale. It’ll need alterations, but it’s gorgeous.”

“You bought the dress already?” he asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “What if you change your mind?” Or to be more accurate, what if he managed to convince her she was jumping into things too quickly?

“Don’t be silly son. I’m not going to change my mind. But I only put the dress on hold. I wanted you to see it first.”

Rico glanced at Molly. A starry-eyed smile bore evidence of her support of the wedding. No wonder she and his mom were fast friends.

“You really ought to see the dress on her,” Molly interjected. “It’s perfect. And with the calla lilies she chose for her bouquet…”

Rico’s turned to his mom. “I thought you said it was just going to be a small church ceremony.”

“There are a lot of formalities to consider when planning a wedding, no matter what size. And Betty’s offers a consultant to help with it all.”

“You’re talking to a wedding planner?” The surprised tone in his voice escalated in spite of his natural inclination to remain cool, in control of his emotions. Unaffected.

But for Pete’s sake, she was getting carried away.

He never could understand how women could get so damn caught up in all that bridal fuss. It was like the senior prom, only more ostentatious and a complete waste of time, money and emotion.

No one would ever rope Rico into a formal ceremony, assuming he ever found a reason to get married in the first place. But women seemed to go nuts over all the pomp and circumstance. And the wedding vendors—or rather, bridal vultures—saw them coming a mile away. Hell, all anyone had to do was mention the word wedding and the price of flowers, bands, banquet halls and the rest of that crap tripled.

He knew. His buddy Mac had complained to him at length about it.

“Daniel and I plan to keep the guest list under a hundred,” his mom said.

Hell, even that sounded like a circus to Rico. “I thought you were going to keep things simple. Small.”

“We are, but there’s a lot of etiquette involved, and Daniel and I want things to be done right.” His mom lobbed a smile at her pretty, young friend. “Molly has been a godsend, especially since I’ve never had a real wedding before.”

Rico tore his gaze from his mother, then looked at Molly, realizing she was much more than a pretty face. He didn’t mean that as a compliment either. “Don’t tell me you’re the wedding consultant?”

“Yes,” Molly said, “I am.”

Damn. She probably worked on commission and had spotted his mom as an easy mark. He crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one foot. “Do you mind if we backpedal just a bit?”

“All right,” his mom said. “Maybe I should start at the beginning.”

“Good idea.” His mother’s explanations usually took a while, so he glanced at the only chair in the room. “Do you mind if I take a seat?”

“Of course not.” His mom plopped down in the green-and-lavender-plaid easy chair, leaving the coordinating floral sofa for Rico and Molly to share.

For a moment he got a strange sense that he was being set up, and not just with his mother’s wedding. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just his response to the unwelcome attraction he was feeling to his mother’s wedding planner. In which case, designating pretty Molly as the enemy ought to take the edge off that.

“I already told you about meeting Daniel and falling in love with him,” his mom said, her eyes glistening.

When Rico stole a glance at Molly, he saw her smiling and getting all misty-eyed, too. What was with women? Or at least these two? He couldn’t find anything sentimental about a wedding, especially someone’s fifth.

Molly sat on the edge of the cushion and tugged at the hem of her dress, making sure it reached her knees.

They were lovely knees, he realized. Nice legs, too.

But they were the knees and legs of the adversary, his mom’s matrimonial cheerleader.

“Three weeks ago,” his mom began, “I stopped by Betty’s Bridal Boutique to look at dresses and to get some information about weddings. And that’s when I met Molly.” She blessed her young friend with a grin. “We hit it off immediately and had lunch together the next day. We have a lot in common in spite of our age difference.”

Stars in their eyes, for one thing.

“I told you about Molly,” his mom added. “Remember? On the telephone. And you agreed to help her find her sister.”

So what was this—an attack from all sides?

They had him squirming in his seat—first with the wedding his mom didn’t need, then with the free investigative work.

He hoped to hell he’d been mistaken about the cupid stuff.

Inadvertently he slid a peek at Molly’s lap, where her hands rested primly. Her fingers were bare—not a diamond ring or a gold band in sight.

Great.

“Son, why don’t I get you something to drink? I have iced tea, orange-mango juice, wine….”

“I’d like a scotch,” Rico told her, thinking he’d better relax and not allow his emotions to get the better of him. Damn, this was going to be a hell of a long evening.

“Molly?” his mom asked. “How about you?”

The attractive blonde glanced at her bracelet, which he realized was actually a wristwatch.

“A glass of wine would be nice,” she said.

When his mother disappeared, Rico leaned back in his seat, determined to take control of the conversation. “First of all, you can put down your pom-poms, Mollyanna.”

“Excuse me?” Her tone was sharp, spunky, her spine ramrod straight.

He’d offended her, he supposed. And for a moment he thought about apologizing, starting over. But the physical attraction that didn’t seem to be abating put him at a disadvantage. So he took the offense rather than the defense.

“Let’s get something straight. I agreed to pay for this wedding. And it’s not a matter of cost—I’d give my mom the moon if I could. But she’s been married four times already. And I think under the circumstances things should be quiet and discreet.”

Molly turned to face him, the hem of her dress sliding up her leg, revealing more skin than she probably realized and prompting him to swallow another urge to apologize and slip into a defensive stance.