Aimee Carson - Don't Tell the Wedding Planner

Say no. Tell him to go away.

“Sure,” she said instead, opening the door.

In a medieval costume that would do a knight proud, Matt stepped inside. And there wasn’t a woman alive that wouldn’t have been satisfied by the way his gaze landed on her figure and his eyebrows shot higher.

He let out a low whistle. “That gown is something. You look gorgeous.”

A flush of heat left her feeling stupid.

Come on, Callie. Get your act together.

“Thank you,” she said. “You, uh, look good, too.”

Matt’s pants looked appropriately made of unrefined material. Over the crudely cut, long-sleeved shirt, he wore a chain-mail shirt. A huge sword hung on the scabbard at his waist.

Matt let out a scoff. “Maybe, but this stuff is heavy.”

“Most authentic costumes in New Orleans.”

“I think I’d rather go with the cheap stuff that doesn’t weigh a thousand pounds.” He rolled those broad shoulders. “Man, how did men fight in this getup anyway?”

“I have no idea. But at least you don’t have to wear a dress that pinches your waist to nothing and flattens your boobs,” she said dryly.

Matt was clearly biting back a grin. “I definitely prefer the slutty Scarlett O’Hara over the prim and proper medieval princess. Allow me?” He nodded down at the laces hanging open in the back.

She hesitated a second. Was that amusement flickering through his eyes? Gritting her teeth with determination, she then turned to face the mirror. Matt stepped closer, bringing a scent of spicy soap. When she briefly met his gaze in the reflection, a shock of awareness jolted her limbs and burned her belly.

The intimacy of the room, the muted lighting and the strange costumes made the whole situation surreal and, God save her from her overactive imagination, a little romantic.

Given this was Matt in chain mail with a sword at his side, a whole lot of sexy was on display, as well. Her heart did a crazy twist when Matt reached for the laces at her back.

Crap, don’t picture him undoing the dress. Just...don’t.

Dying to cover her nerves, she eyed him speculatively in the mirror. “Does this make you my lady-in-waiting?”

One side of his mouth curled up in amusement. “No,” he said. “And before you get any other crazy ideas in your head, I’m nobody’s knight in shining armor, either.”

Matt’s fingers whispered against her as he fixed the corset-inspired lace-up fastening in the back. Careful not to move, Callie concentrated on the warm brushes of skin on skin that sent currents of electric heat skittering up her spine. As touches went, this one bordered on being an incredible tease.

His gaze on the task at hand, lips set as if in concentration, Matt said, “You sure are going all out on this. I mean—” his eyes crashed into hers “—Tommy’s my brother.”

Callie blinked and mentally shoved her libido in a box. The most truthful explanation wouldn’t go over so well, for sure.

Especially with Matt.

She held his gaze in the mirror. “They deserve the wedding of their dreams.”

She’d never meant the words more, but she also knew reciting the slogan from her website didn’t cover everything she’d poured into this event so far. And everything left yet to do. After talking with Tommy and Penny yesterday afternoon—they’d both sounded so sweet and sincere on the phone—Callie’s heart had melted more.

In a way, her screwup had torn her and Colin apart. Years later, and she was still alone. Tommy’s and Penny’s screwups had led them to one another and now they were getting married. Their heartwarming story was one of the most inspiring Callie had ever heard. And she’d heard some doozies, stories of lost loves reunited and second chances and those who’d survived devastating illnesses to go and achieve their happily-ever-after.

But Tommy and Penny’s tale of overcoming the effects of the bad choices they’d made struck a chord in Callie. After talking to the two, Callie’s ideas for the weekend had exploded. So now there was more work than originally planned. Not that she feared hard work. In fact, she’d grown quite used to it.

But Matt clearly couldn’t figure out why she’d brought more work on herself.

“I guess because I know what it’s like to mess up your life,” Callie said. “In college, I made some seriously stupid decisions.”

The fingers on her back grew still, and Matt’s eyes met hers in the mirror again. His gaze didn’t budge as he remained silent, most likely waiting for her to go on. Callie’s throat suddenly felt twice baked and lacking in all moisture.

“I let a lot of people down,” she said. “Including my parents. And Colin.”

“Tell me.”

With those words, her immediate thought was no because the story was too personal, cut too close to the bone. But maybe if she shared the ugly truth about her past this would help Matt. She’d sensed there was tension between him and his brother. Maybe he’d find a way to move on, as well. The idea of her story helping others was kind of appealing.

Time to put your big-girl panties on, Callie.

Matt’s focus dropped back to her dress and he resumed his task. Maybe he sensed that telling the story would be easier without his eyes studying her so closely. Despite his focus being elsewhere, she could tell by the tension in his shoulders and the set of his mouth that Matt’s attention was solely on her.

She cleared her throat to loosen the muscles. “I grew up poor, in a little town north of here. My parents sacrificed a lot to move us to the city so I could go to a better high school. They wanted me to attend a university and be the first LaBeau to get a college degree.”

“Did you have trouble in high school?”

“Nope. I did well,” she said. “Straight-A student. I wound up with several acceptances to excellent schools. My parents wanted me to accept the scholarship at a smaller college closer to home, but I...”

Callie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d been so dumb, thinking her ability to adjust to a new high school translated into an easy adjustment to a new town and a large university.

“I wanted to get out and see the world,” she said. “I mean, high school seemed fairly easy. How hard could an out-of-state larger university be? So I accepted the Wimbly Southern deal.”

His gaze ticked back to hers in the mirror. “Scholarship?”

“A full ride,” she said with a nod. “Tuition. Room and board. Books. The works. Even some spending money so I didn’t have to get a job. I only had to concentrate on my studies. For a girl with parents who could barely afford the rent, it was a big deal.”

He cocked his head, the fingers at her back now motionless. “Let me guess. You flunked out and lost the scholarship.”

Callie hesitated. She could say yes and let that be the end. His short sentence summed up the events accurately. But she knew leaving out the most important bits would be taking the coward’s way out, and certainly wouldn’t explain about her commitment to Matt’s brother and his fiancée—a couple she’d only spoken to once on the phone.

“Yes, but there’s a little more to the story,” she said.

“How much more?”

“My grades slipped because I fell in with the wrong crowd. I was lonely, and the party kids were the only ones who would have anything to do with me.”

In hindsight, she realized how lucky she’d been in high school. Moving just before the tenth grade should have meant she’d been the odd one out, friendless and alone. Instead, things had come together easily. She’d had plenty of friends and was well liked by her classmates. Some of that might have had to do with her dating Colin, his popularity rubbing off on her. Either way, things had fallen into place and she’d never missed a beat.