Wendy Etherington - The Right Bed?

“Yeah, I heard she was getting married. Your mom told me when I saw her in town yesterday. That’s a surprise. Little Emma Lambert and Sam Burton. Hard to believe they’re old enough to get married.”

“Maybe Emma and I will stop by and check it out,” she said. A girl’s night out might make her sister reconsider getting married. She had far too many oats to sow yet and Tyler’s Roadhouse was known as a single girl’s paradise.

“Well, then, I’ll see you if I see you. I know the guy at the door. Just give him your name and he’ll let you in without the cover charge. You drive careful now, Caley. I don’t want to catch you in another snowbank. If I do, I might have to toss you in jail.”

He opened her car door for her and she got inside. As Caley drove off, she glanced in the rearview mirror. Jeff Winslow was an attractive guy. And now that she was single again, she ought to have been flattered that he’d turned his attention to her.

Caley had never put much stock in sexual chemistry, but now she finally understood what it was all about. When she and Jeff sat in the same test tube, nothing happened. But when she got mixed up in a beaker of Jake, the combination erupted into heat and passion and uncontrolled need.

There was a strange connection between them, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Something was drawing them together, a power that was impossible to resist. And with every moment that passed, Caley wondered why she even bothered to try.

Her phone rang and Caley reached to get it out of her purse. But then she drew her hand away. For the first time in her professional life, she didn’t want to think about work. She didn’t want to answer some silly question or explain some figures on a report. She just wanted to be left alone for a day. Grabbing the phone, she switched it off, the Mozart tune ending prematurely. She’d deal with work later. And besides, the last thing she needed was a ticket courtesy of Jeff. She had more important things on her mind.

Her thoughts returned to Jake. There was one major fear holding her back, a fear that she would repeat past mistakes. What if they did have sex and what if it was the most wonderful experience of her life? And what if she fell in love with Jake all over again?

Those feelings had been buried so deep for so long that she’d thought they were gone. But the moment he’d kissed her, they’d floated back to the surface. Caley was much stronger now, but Jake had the capacity to sweep her off her feet, to make her lose touch with reality and reason.

She drew a ragged breath. Though it was frightening, this power he had over her, it was also liberating. When she was with him, she could let go and enjoy herself. For the first time since she was a teenager, she looked forward to getting up in the morning. While she was here with Jake, she didn’t have to worry about all the public relations fires she’d have to put out in the course of a day, all the upset clients and curious reporters and skittish stockholders. She could relax and just be herself.

Why was it that Jake was always a factor in the choices she made? She’d gone to school at NYU because she thought it would impress Jake. She got a job in public relations because Jake had once told her she was good at solving problems. She’d worked herself ragged in the past seven years because, deep inside, she wanted to prove that she didn’t need Jake in her life to be happy.

And where had it gotten her? Caley sighed softly. Right back to where she started, still chasing after Jake Burton. But this time, he was chasing after her, as well. And she now had control over what happened between them—until, of course, he touched her. Then all bets were off.

“That’s the problem,” Caley said. “I can control my attraction for Jake as long as we aren’t close to each other. But I’m so attracted to him, I can’t stay away. I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.”

BY THE TIME she got back to the inn it was nearly noon.

There was no one at the desk when she walked in, but Caley found her younger sister at a table in the dining room, a binder open in front of her. She munched on a breadstick as she flipped through the pages.

“Your maid of honor has arrived,” Caley said, pulling out a chair across from Emma.

Her sister looked up and smiled. “Good. I need someone to distract me from all these details. My mind is so filled with minutiae that it’s starting to leak out of my ears. Flowers, music, candles, dinner. I thought we were planning a small wedding, but it’s starting to take on a life of its own.”

Caley sat down, then reached out for the binder, scanning down her sister’s “to do” list. She didn’t understand why brides worried over such silly decisions. “This is the list of music? Go for the Pachelbel’s “Canon” for the processional and “Ode to Joy” for the recessional. Red roses with my bridesmaid’s dress would be too much. White would be better. And not the hybrid roses but the cabbage roses. Vanilla-scented tapers for the candles—you know how much Mom loves those. And surf and turf for dinner, that way you’ll please everyone.” Caley slammed the binder shut. “There, that was easy.”

Emma blinked in surprise. “Caroline Lenore Lambert! You can’t just decide so quickly. All of these things have to be discussed.”

“With whom? Sam? He doesn’t care. I’ve heard that brides often focus so much time and attention on the wedding that they forget there’s a marriage that comes after it.”

“That’s why we wanted to keep this small,” Emma said. “And more manageable. Between Mom and Mrs. Burton, we wouldn’t have had a wedding, we would have had an event. But I don’t want to make decisions just to get them out of the way. I want this wedding to be perfect. So does Sam.”

“So you have to discuss everything with him?”

“No. He’s leaving the details up to me.”

Caley plucked a breadstick out of the basket and munched on the end. “That’s odd. I mean, that he wouldn’t even care. You know how those Burton boys are. They’re so bossy. They have to run everything.”

Caley could see Emma growing dizzy from the change in conversation. Tiny worry lines furrowed her brow and she kept glancing back down at her book, as if all the answers were contained within.

Caley couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, but this marriage would be a life-altering event and if Emma wasn’t prepared then Caley wasn’t doing her job as a big sister or a maid of honor. “If it isn’t perfect then the marriage will never succeed. It’s like bad karma.”

Emma frowned. “Yeah. I guess so.” She paused. “Is it? Is that some superstition I haven’t heard yet?”

“You’re marrying the perfect guy so you have to be perfect in return. So did you solve your motorcycle dilemma? I’d stand firm on that one. Once you give in, he’s going to take advantage and think he can run the show.”

“He doesn’t want to talk about it. He says it’s his decision.”

“Emma, things will only get worse after you’re married. Marriage magnifies problems, it doesn’t make them go away.” It was armchair psychology and a deliberate manipulation but if it saved Emma from making the biggest mistake of her life, then Caley didn’t care. If love couldn’t withstand a bit of poking and prodding, then it would never last.

Caley winced inwardly. It almost pained her to say those words. But maybe that’s why she wasn’t happily married and living in the suburbs with 2.5 kids. Perhaps there was some truth in what she said. She reached out and took Emma’s hand. “Are you really ready for this, Em?”

“I-I’ve thought about postponing,” Emma admitted in a small voice. “But then, I just wrote it off to nerves. Everyone would be so disappointed.”