Joanne Rock - Love So Tender - Taking Care of Business / Play It Again, Elvis / Good Luck Charm

H.D.’s forceful bark broke their kiss like a sledgehammer against glass. She started and swung her gaze down, then realized that H.D. wasn’t barking at them, but rather at the black-robed woman who stood in the doorway looking, well…shocked.

Under her boss’s gaze, mortification bled through Gracie. Stepping back, she murmured, “Cordelia…hi. This is, um…um—”

“Steve Mulcahy, the new photographer,” he supplied.

Beneath the pouf of fire engine-red hair, Cordelia’s expression changed, and she studied Steve intently. Gracie was surprised to see something akin to disapproval in the woman’s kohl-lined eyes before Cordelia schooled her well-preserved features into a smile. “Ah, yes. Welcome to TCB, Steve.”

He nodded politely, but looked uncomfortable. If he knew that pink lipstick smeared his mouth, he would probably feel even worse, Gracie decided. He gestured to the air between them. “Gracie was just…showing me the ropes.”

Cordelia lifted one drawn-on eyebrow. “Gracie keeps this place running—I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.”

Gracie blinked. She’d never felt unappreciated, but Cordelia had never gushed about her to a relative stranger. Then in a flash of comprehension, she realized that her protective boss might have thought Steve was taking liberties with her—little did Cordelia know that Gracie was the one guilty of setting a record for sexually harassing a new hire.

“I can see that,” Steve said smoothly.

Cordelia nodded toward the white jumpsuit and pushed her cheek out with her tongue. “I see she wasted no time in showing you the wardrobe.”

His mouth twitched downward. “Yes, I’m surprised you didn’t mention that aspect of the job when we…talked.”

Cordelia’s expression turned innocent. “I didn’t?”

“Er, no.”

“Oh, well, you two seem to have worked out the details.”

“We have,” Gracie said quickly, her mouth still warm from the imprint of his. “And the costumes will have to do for now, but I’ll make the necessary alterations.” She was babbling, like a teenager caught necking in the living room.

Cordelia hesitated, then nodded. “Is Lincoln performing the ceremonies this evening?”

“Yes. He should be here soon.”

Cordelia glanced at Steve, and Gracie once again detected a wariness in her boss. “I’m going to take a smoke break. Gracie, will you let me know if you hear the drive-through bell?”

Despite her own recent transgression, Gracie straightened. “I thought you quit smoking.”

“I did,” her boss said. “And now I’m starting again.” Cordelia leveled her no-nonsense gaze on Steve. “When you’re finished here, Mr. Mulcahy, please see me so that we can discuss…your duties.”

“I will.”

But Cordelia was already gone, her black robe billowing behind her as she strode down the hall. H.D. trotted after her, loping as fast as his low-hanging belly would allow.

Gracie turned to Steve slowly, her skin zinging with embarrassment. “I’m…sorry about…the kiss. I don’t know what came over me.”

Before the words left her mouth, she realized how lame they sounded. To save him from having to respond, she hung the white jumpsuit on a rack and removed a tissue from a nearby container. She stepped forward and reached up to wipe his mouth. He stood still, but his eyes narrowed cautiously as she dabbed at the shimmering pink gloss.

Gracie focused on removing traces of their kiss, still reeling over her behavior. “But don’t worry—this kind of thing doesn’t bother Cordelia.”

He looked amused. “So you do this kind of thing often?”

Her face flamed. “No. What I meant is that Cordelia wasn’t upset about…what we were doing.” She cleared her throat. “About what I did. Which, by the way, won’t happen again. It was just…curiosity.” She was babbling again.

One dark eyebrow rose. “I wasn’t complaining.”

Ignoring the barb of pleasure in her chest, she pushed ahead. “Cordelia hasn’t been herself for the past several days.” And whatever her boss had, apparently it was catching, Gracie decided, since she herself had just kissed a virtual stranger. “She’s usually very easygoing. I don’t know what…has her on edge.”

His eyes darkened. “It’s probably nothing serious.”

Gracie nodded thoughtfully and averted her gaze, tearing her mind away from their off-the-cuff kiss and toward more important matters. She knew that business had fallen sharply over the past few months and suspected that Cordelia—and the chapel—were in serious financial trouble. Panic gripped Gracie’s chest—Cordelia, Lincoln, Roach and H.D. were all the family she had. Yet lately, in the wee hours of the morning, lying on the sleeper-sofa in her cramped apartment, she had felt unsettled. For the past ten years, the wedding chapel had been a refuge from the unbearable family situation she had left behind in Oklahoma, and Cordelia had been the mother she’d never had.

But suddenly everything seemed to be in flux.

“Hey,” Steve said gently, breaking into her thoughts. “Don’t look so worried—whatever is bothering your boss will probably work itself out soon.”

She looked up and was struck anew by his dark, sexy looks. That restless place in her seemed to call out to him, and it made her uneasy. It was a good thing that Steve Mulcahy had already expressed his vehement opposition to marriage, else she might be tempted to see just where a full-body kiss would lead them. But another glance at his high cheekbones, flaring nose, square jaw and overall rugged good looks made her sigh inwardly. Someone as delectably masculine as Steve Mulcahy would definitely already be involved with a woman…or two.

His cell phone beeped. He glanced at the display, then back up, slightly flushed. “Um, where can I take this in private?”

Gracie gave him a tight smile—just as she suspected. It was the reminder she needed. “Take it here. I have work to do.” She tossed the tissue into a trash can, then vamoosed. As she walked out, she heard him say, “Hi, Karen. What’s up?”

Gracie puffed out her cheeks as she walked down the hallway, then slid into her spot behind the counter. Waves of shame washed over her—what must he think of her, kissing him like that? She closed her eyes and groaned, burying her face in her hands. Why didn’t life come with a rewind button?

She lifted her head and gave herself a mental shake. One thing was certain: Although her mind said, “Hold out for a stable guy and a long-term commitment,” her body obviously wasn’t on the same page. Still…Steve had to accept some of the blame. How could a man go around looking that good and not expect to be kissed on impulse?

Gracie practiced a few deep breathing exercises—she had to get past her gaffe if they were going to work together. But she was antsy…as if a switch inside her had been flipped to “on.”

She straightened the postcards and other souvenirs in the spinner racks, then dusted the counter and the shelves, trying to tamp down the sudden surge of adrenaline. Steve Mulcahy had affected her like no man had in…ever. Working at close quarters was going to be difficult in her sex-deprived state, but would be a good test of her endurance because this was exactly the kind of situation she was trying to avoid: a dead-end relationship. At least he was more forthcoming than most men—he had let her know right away that marriage wasn’t in his cards.

So who was Karen?

She tried to push the man and his love life from her mind as she looked for the file for the upcoming ceremony. But she was suddenly distracted by the hundreds of photos collaged onto the bulletin boards all around the counter. Hugging the file to her chest, she surveyed the couples’ beaming faces as they clutched each other, poised to begin their lives together. All shapes and sizes, beautiful and not, all races, all ages—proof that over and over again in the big, wide world, people managed to find each other and fall in love.