Always the Designer, Never the Bride (15 page)

Audrey considered it for a moment before Kat chimed in. "C'mon, Audrey! It's fun. You'll feel better, you really will."

"That's what you said about whole grains," she replied. Looking back to Fee, she added, "It's all fun and games until that third day."

Fee popped with laughter, tossing her head back against the sofa cushion.

"Well, you can't discount the importance of fiber in your diet," Kat defended, and she jabbed at the bag in front of her twice before landing a flying kick against it.

"Okay, okay," Audrey said with a laugh. "I surrender."

Stepping into line with the others, she began to throw halfhearted punches into the air between her and the bag.

But despite her best efforts to remain uninvolved, ten minutes later, to the tune of Aretha Franklin's "Respect," Audrey wailed on the bag before her, punching and kicking the stuffing out of every one of the problems she'd been carrying on the other side of the gym door a short time earlier.

Kim Renfroe and the dangling carrot of the wedding gown that could have saved her suffering design career.
Punch-jab-kick.

Weston LaMont, gawking at her from Kim's private table at Opera, all pompous and successful in the glare of her beaming failure as a designer.
Punch-jab-kick.

Kat. Poor Kat. The soon-to-be unemployed light of her professional life.
Punch-jab-kick.

And J. R.

She jabbed and punched at his ridiculous crooked smile and glistening blue eyes . . . those muscular tattooed arms . . . his thick waves of shaggy hair . . . and that sometimes-shadow of a beard . . .

With one hard kick that knocked her straight to the floor on her behind, Audrey dented the fender of his infuriating, lingering kiss; the one that still felt hot on her lips, even now; the one that, without his own restraint, might nearly have done her in.

"Are you all right?" Sherilyn asked, standing over her. "Audrey?"

"I'm fine," she lied. "Just great. Let's go again."

Top Five Fabrics
For Your Bridal Gown

1.
Silk
is the most sought-after and beloved fabric for a
bridal gown; it is also the most expensive. There are
various textures of silk, such as raw, Gazar and Mikado.

2.
Chiffon
is sheer and delicate, often with a soft sheen to
it. Because of its transparent appearance, chiffon is often
used for skirt overlays and sheer sleeves.

3.
Crepe
is a lightweight fabric, not unlike silk;
however, it is usually slightly crinkled.

4.
Organza
resembles a blend of the delicate texture of
chiffon and the stiffer appearance of tulle. It is ideal
for full skirts, fitted bodices, and overlays.

5.
Tulle
is known as the stuff ballerinas are made of.
A fine netting made of silk or rayon, tulle makes a
beautiful skirt overlay or bridal veil.

7

C
arly leaned over Devon and kissed his forehead before tugging on the blanket and pulling it up to his chin. J. R. couldn't help thinking that, if her care for getting Devon settled at home was any indication, the woman was going to be a great mother one day.

"What can I get you?" she asked her tired husband. "Water? Juice? How about some hot tea?"

"Yoo-hoo?" he teased.

"Okay," she replied, and she turned immediately toward the door.

"Wait a minute. We have Yoo-hoo in the house?"

"I got some just in case you asked."

Devon shook his head as Carly hurried from the bedroom, and J. R. plopped to the edge of the bed.

"Am I the luckiest guy you've ever met?" Devon said with a chuckle. "I have no idea what I ever did to deserve someone like her."

"Me neither."

"Hey!" his brother laughed, smacking J. R. on the arm, then moaning from the pull of it.

"Sit back and relax or you'll be back at the hospital before you can finish your Yoo-hoo."

Devon leaned back against the wall of pillows behind him and sighed.

"So when do you report to Albany, in light of this new development?" J. R. asked.

"Well, that's in question. Things are a little dicey in the Middle East right now."

"No."

"Yeah, 'fraid so. I'll be recovering here for another two weeks, and then it looks like I may be redeployed instead of staying stateside."

"Have you told Carly?"

"Not yet. I want to hold off until I know for sure in a couple of days."

J. R.'s heart began to beat against his Adam's apple. He hadn't realized the degree to which he'd taken comfort in knowing Devon would be assigned to the cushy safety of Albany, Georgia, for a while. But now—

"Don't let on, bro. Okay?"

J. R. shook his head. "Nah. Course not."

Carly stepped into the room and handed them each a frosty cold bottle before she set a paper towel and four chocolate chip cookies on the nightstand.

Three parts Perfect Wife, and one part Nurturing Mother.

Just what Devon never knew he needed.

J. R.'s cell phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of the pocket of his dark brown shirt and glanced at the screen.

"What's up, Russell?"

"Hey, mate. Just happened on news about the place to be tonight. You in?"

"Depends."

"Birthday party for The Man."

"Jackson?"

"Yeah. It's at his sister's digs. Everyone who's anyone will be there."

"You mean Kat's going to be there," he deduced. "Are we invited? Or are you just planning one of your social coups?"

"Nah, I got me some manners, you bloke. Sherilyn texted me an invite for the both of us. You in or out?"

"In. What time?"

"Meet up with you around seven."

"Good."

"Oh, and it's a surprise, so don't blow it."

"Gotcha."

The moment he disconnected the call, Devon asked him, "What am I missing out on?"

"Birthday deal."

"Oh, that's right," Carly said as she entered with a folded blanket in her arms. "Jackson's surprise party."

"Are we going?" Devon asked with a grin, and the glare from Carly set him back. "Are you going?"

"I have my hands full here," she said as she laid the blanket across the corner of the bed. "I'll have to miss it. Besides, Sherilyn is my Tanglewood connection. I don't really know Emma and Jackson much at all."

"Emma and Sherilyn are like you and Audrey," J. R. observed.

"Still," she replied with a smile. "I have a better offer here at home."

"Him?" J. R. teased. "A better offer? Marriage has stripped you of your good judgment."

"Don't be hateful," she returned, and she dropped to the bed beside Devon. "This is all the party I need."

"A drugged-up Marine with a hole in his gut," Devon summarized.

"MY drugged-up Marine," she reminded him, placing a peck on his cheek before she told J. R., "Give Jackson our best."

"Will do," he said.

"And if Audrey is there—"

"Audrey?"

Settle down, you idiot. It's just a name.

"Yes, I thought she might be there."

"Oh. Yeah?"

Trying too hard.

"Maybe. If she is, ask her to call me later? I've been trying to reach her about the reception."

"What reception?" Devon asked first.

"Well," she sighed. "Emma saved the wedding cake, and we're going to plan something really small and simple once you're feeling up to it. I asked Audrey to stick around for a few days to see if she can be there."

"A few days?" J. R. interjected. "Do you think you'll be out of bed that soon?"

"Dunno. Enough to eat some cake? Maybe."

Audrey's staying in town a little longer.

"I'll talk to her. Ask her to call you."

"Good, thanks. And have fun tonight."

J. R. grabbed his helmet and keys from the table by the front door, mid-stride.

The ride over to The Tanglewood was fraught with traffic, but his own thoughts were considerably louder than the rev of motors and the honk of horns. Despite the recurrences of Audrey on the fringe of his thoughts, he kept coming back to what Devon had confided about possibly heading back to the Middle East, and it wrenched his gut each time the realization crashed again. If the idea hit him in such a profound way, he wondered how Carly would take the news.

"Hey, you!" Sherilyn greeted him with a hug when she saw him crossing the lobby. "What are you doing here? How's Devon?"

Shrugging back the truth, he pushed a smile to his face. "He's got some healing to do. But Carly's on the case."

"They're a great couple."

"Yep, they are."

"So what are you doing at The Tanglewood?"

"I want to give them some privacy. I was hoping I could get a good rate and crash here for a couple of days."

"I think I can help with that."

Sherilyn grinned at him and linked her arm through his, closing the gap between them and the front desk.

"Hey, Rog," she said to the guy behind the desk. "Do we have availability for tonight?"

Roger nodded and tapped at the computer, examining the screen.

"How about we give Mr. Hunt a discounted rate, if there's one available." She poked his side with her elbow. "He's the brother of the groom who ended up in the emergency room. He's going to hang around for a few days to help them out."

"Three nights?" Roger asked him. "Four?"

"Why don't we start with three. It could be more. I just don't know yet."

"Yes, sir."

Sherilyn propped one elbow on the counter as Roger firmed up the details of the reservation. "So, J. R."

The hair on the back of his neck shimmied. "So, Sherilyn."

"You and Audrey."

"What about us?" He casually took his card from the clerk and tucked it into his wallet.

"Is there a love connection going on there?" She tossed her red hair and grinned at him like a gorgeous Cheshire cat.

"Why do you ask?"

"I've heard some scuttlebutt," she told him. "Just wondering if there's any truth to it. You know. Inquiring minds and all that."

"She's a beautiful girl," he stated carefully.

"Yes. She is."

"And she seems very sweet."

"Very."

J. R. tapped her arm several times before turning away.

"Hey," she said. "Are you coming to Jackson's party tonight?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly? Russell said absolutely."

"Then why did you ask?"

Before another word was exchanged, J. R. accepted the card key from the clerk, turned around, and walked away.

"See you tonight," she called after him, and J. R. lifted his arm and shot her a backwards wave. "Do you know where to go?"

He couldn't help himself, and J. R. laughed out loud. He felt fairly certain that, if anyone could adeptly tell him
where to go,
it was Sherilyn.