Jule McBride - I Thee Bed...

“I’m not sure I follow. Why?”

“I’ve had my quota,” she explained.

He was smiling. “Well, you don’t seem cursed to me.”

“Believe me, my own luck’s been lousy.”

“You found me.”

“True. But only after the videographer for the reality show I mentioned found out Marley had taken my place.” She paused, suddenly pondering the wisdom of going into all this with a man to whom she was so attracted. “I hate to admit this, but they…they, uh, announced on national television that my love life was in the toilet.”

His shoulders shook with merriment. “You’re kidding me, right?”

She slowly moved her head from side to side. “I wish.”

“Tell all.”

She plunged into the story of how the videographer, a man named Vinny Marcel, had exposed that Marley was pretending to be her twin on the show. “Marley won, and I did get a cut of the money,” she said, finishing, “and I put it into the business. Still, the publicity really wasn’t good. I probably gained as many clients as I lost. And I lost some couples when Cheryl ran off with one of our customers, too.”

“I promise I won’t abscond with a bride,” Seth offered.

“I’d appreciate it,” said Edie. “I know it’s tough on you. I could see you eyeing Stacy.”

“Oh, please.”

She laughed.

“Seriously. Did you really use ideas for your own dream wedding while planning Julia Darden’s?”

She glanced over the sketches and photographs on the table. “Sure. This wedding could make or break my reputation, so I’ve wanted it to be perfect. And like most little girls, I always had a fantasy about what the ultimate wedding would be like.”

“You do have great taste.”

Edie looked at the picture of the dress, her heart suddenly aching. Seth was the only one who knew it had been her own dream outfit, and now unexpectedly, she almost wished she hadn’t shared the design with the heiress, although she did like sharing her thoughts and emotions about the matter with Seth. Once more, her eyes drifted over him, and her internal thermometer climbed like a fever. She sighed. “Julia came to the table with so few of her own ideas,” she admitted as she surveyed the dress for the thousandth time, admiring a square neckline calculated to show off an ample swell of breasts. Long sleeved, it was made of gossamer fabric, hand sewn with pearls and white crystals. “My mother helped with my initial vision of the design,” she added. “And as I told you before, she’s actually making it.”

“She’s good. If anyone I know ever needs a dress designer, I’ll mention her.”

“She’d love to hear you say it.”

“And the ring?” he prompted.

“Bridget designed it. Here are the others.” From under a stack of papers, Edie lifted out Bridget’s discarded designs, letting Seth leaf through them.

Suddenly, he stopped and said, “This.”

Edie could merely shake her head. At least once an hour, she found herself wondering if she’d met her soul mate. For the past three days, she’d barely dared to think it, and yet, their tastes and attitudes seemed impossibly in sync. She eyed the star-shaped setting of diamonds. “That’s the ring I imagined for myself,” she admitted. “And see—” She lifted another drawing. “The flowers are interwoven with lavender glass beads. Lavender’s both my and Julia’s favorite color, as it turned out. My dad, who works as a caterer, is making the cake. It’s—” finding another picture, she put it before him “—this.”

“Yum,” Seth offered, taking in the four-tiered confection.

“Well,” Edie conceded, her voice hitching with excitement. “You can do more with cakes. I even saw one recently that looked as if it was made of leather, but I really want this wedding to be almost all white. The tablecloths are white. The tents, just in case the weather warms up and we can move outside. I really hope it materializes the way I’ve imagined it. If so, it should be traditional, classy, beautiful.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“There’s a matching bracelet that’s attached to the ring by a thin chain,” she found herself continuing. “It’s only to be worn for fancy events. Like the wedding. Or maybe parties Julia attends in the future. And the necklace was to be—” rummaging, Edie found yet another drawing “—this simple long strand of diamonds that loops once around her neck.”

“Wow.”

Edie shrugged. “Julia chose another ring, but she’s wearing the necklace. Still, she’s pretty ambivalent.”

Seth shook his head, as if to say that was a shame.

“She would have been happy with no ring at all,” Edie said in her defense. “Julia’s a simple person, really. She’s madly in love, and just wants to settle down and start a family with as little fanfare as possible.”

“So why the…”

“Expensive, beautiful three-ring circus?” Edie finished. “Her father pushed for it. Still, I think once all is said and done, Julia will be happy she and Lorenzo have the memories.”

When she glanced up, her eyes locked with Seth’s. This time, he didn’t look away, and Edie simply couldn’t. Her lips parted as if in anticipation, and she drew in a quick, audible breath. Simultaneously, she was aware Seth Bishop had registered her response. No doubt, he could guess that her heart was hammering again. Maybe he saw the pulse that was ticking too fast in her throat. Or felt the sudden jerk of her knee against his. And while he couldn’t feel the heat pooling in her belly, or the sudden swift pang at her feminine core, maybe he could guess at it.

“What about your memories, Edie,” he murmured.

Vaguely, she wondered if this was really happening. One moment, she’d been discussing Julia’s wedding with her new assistant, and the next…

“My memories?” she managed.

“Definitely,” he said, “I don’t think you should give up on having a wedding for yourself that’s every bit as beautiful.”

Given the way he was looking at her, she almost felt as if he was proposing. It should have been unsettling, and yet such quick intimacy coming from this man, wasn’t. With every passing minute, he seemed more like her perfect match. They were both morning people. Meat-and-potatoes people. Headache rather than stomachache people. And they both liked imported beer and fine wines. They took their coffee exactly the same way, and had read most of the same books. Most importantly, when it came to talking about weddings—colors, fabrics, music, meals—Edie had finally met someone with whom she could really talk shop. They were both on the same wavelength, and during conversations, they nearly stumbled over themselves, each trying to get words out first.

What about your memories, Edie? Had Seth Bishop really just said that? Feeling as if she was in a daze, Edie considered Bridget’s ghost-busting trip once more. Had her sister really ended the wedding curse that had haunted the Benning women for years? Was it Edie’s turn to find love now?

It seemed so crazy. But why? Every woman had to meet her true love somewhere. Why shouldn’t this be Edie’s moment? Why shouldn’t this dark, snowy evening be The One? Her chest feeling tight, Edie leaned forward, wondering how he’d respond if she just pressed her lips to his….

She had a sudden urge—apropos of nothing—to just ask him to sleep with her. It was a risk, yes. But not knowing how Seth Bishop’s flesh would feel pressed to hers seemed like a risk, also. She imagined herself saying something like, “We’re both attracted, so do you want to skip all the usual preliminaries and come home with me?” The thought made her smile.

And then, over one of his shoulders, she saw the mailman at the door. “Oh—” she gasped, feeling suddenly flustered. “The mail. The papers. I forgot.”