Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Caught Between an Oops and a Hard Body (Caught Between series Book 2)
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As she watched their conversation volley back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth some more, her stomach began to heave from the dizziness of it all.

Pushing her hair out of her face, she attempted to ignore the queasiness in her stomach, and jumped back into the fray. “Ladies, the clock is ticking and we’re getting nowhere.”

Grace Kincaid sat in the armchair across from her, back stiff, hands folded primly on her lap, and sniffed. “Well, I’m attempting to be as cooperative as possible but I have my limits. Zombie outfits and a Vegas wedding are so beneath us.”

“Mother,” Liz growled from across the room where she paced and turned, paced and turned, and paced some more. “It’s not your wedding.”

Grace let out a breath of air. “Thank God.”

Stephanie sorted through the binders of wedding bouquets and wedding cakes and wedding decorations. “So compromise. Have a Zombie wedding at the estate or go to Vegas and get married in a traditional white gown.”

Outside the large patio doors, the
whooop, whooop, whooop
of a helicopter sounded. And somewhere in the silence that suddenly filled the room, her heart went
thunk
.

Liz fisted her hands in the air and gave a triumphant jump. “My reinforcements have arrived.”

A horrified expression marred the mother-of-the-bride’s smooth complexion. “You didn’t.”

“Mother, you’re not even supposed to be here till the weekend,” Liz growled before she skipped out of the house and loped across the lush green lawn.

The mother-of-the-bride gave a disdainful and unladylike snort. “I don’t know why she thinks he’s going to support her decision to marry. Stone is a divorce lawyer. Shameful occupation. Every time his name is in the newspaper, my ratings drop.”

Stephanie had to agree with her hostess. The world would be a far better place without divorce lawyers, especially when said divorce lawyer was one of the hunkiest specimens of the male species she’d ever met.

She tried to push away the memory of her night with Stone, but it slammed into her as it always did, with enough force it robbed the breath from her lungs and the stuffing from her legs.

The attraction between them had been so hot and intense, they’d barely had time to exchanged first names, make their excuses to get out of Grandma Elvira’s wedding, before they were hotfooting it back to the city so they could get naked.

Through the bank of windows overlooking the park-like estate, Stephanie watched him leave the helicopter pad and head toward his sister.

Even from this distance, she recognized his broad shouldered build and loose limbed walk, and it turned her stomach in a decidedly more delicious fashion.

This was going to be awkward. Why oh why hadn’t she found out more about him before she’d jumped into bed with him?

Because the moment she’d spotted Stone Kincaid and his ultra naughty grin across the dance floor, her hormones had started to do the Mambo Jumbo, and the loneliness she always experienced at weddings made her want to feel a man’s arms around her, even if it was only for one night.

Even if the man she lusted after was all kinds of wrong.

Even if, after one amazing night, her traitorous body couldn’t forget how terribly right he’d been.

Awkward and uncertain, she pushed back her hair, then did a quick check down her blouse and skirt, smoothing out wrinkles, checking buttons, and wondering why she even bothered.

Because they were never ever—
never ever
—hopping into the sack together again, at least not while she worked for his sister.

She smoothed another hand down her hip, reached around to check the pin holding the waistband of her skirt together, and caught a glimpse of herself in the enormous mirror over the fireplace.

Having the flu sucked. It especially sucked when the sexiest man alive walked back into her life and caught her looking like something already dead.

She smoothed out her expression and gave up on the idea of avoiding the man she’d had sex with, and instead focused on the sheer improbability of ever getting this wedding planned.

It was her job, her responsibility, to ensure that the idea of Prince Charming and happily-ever-after lived forever in the hearts and the lives of the women who hired her services.

Even if she no longer believed in happily-ever-after for herself.

“Mrs. Kincaid,” she said as she refocused on the mother-of-the-bride. “Let me handle the details so you can relax and enjoy these special moments with your daughter.”

Grace’s mouth puckered. “But a zombie wedding theme?”

“I’ll see if I can get her to tone it down a touch, but trust me, the more you object, the more determined your daughter will be to have her way.” She recognized the disapproving lines around the other woman’s mouth and felt her confidence falter.

“If it wasn’t for that musician, Liz would want a normal wedding.”

Stephanie channeled her own mother, and reached out to touch the
Eternally Yours
hostess on the arm. Beneath her fingers, the other woman’s muscles tensed, and instead of relaxing, Grace only seemed to get…tighter.

She dropped her hand to her side and softened her approach even further. “I understand your concern for your daughter. I’ve been on my own for years and yet my parents still worry about every decision I make.” She smiled a reassuring smile. “Liz is young, but she wouldn’t be where she is today if she wasn’t also smart. Marriage is hard, but you have to trust Liz and Roger to figure it out.”

Before the older woman could reply, the swish of the screen doors whispered through the room and every thought but one vanished.

He was here
.

Stephanie’s attention swiveled to Stone.

As he walked out of the sunlight and into the room, his attention zeroed in on her. That something that had been there between them a month ago was still there. Heat flared in his gaze, instantly banked by…something cold and indifferent.

And then Mariam shoved the baby into her arms. “If you wouldn’t mind…”

Stephanie forgot all about the man who rocked her world and the topsy-turvy condition of her stomach. She caught hold of the toddler under his arms and held him as far away as possible, the inkling to shove the kid back at his mother and say
no way
overwhelming.

She stared at the kid and he stared back at her. Breathless and near panic, she shoved the baby at his grandmother. “Mrs. Kincaid, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m not very good with small children.”

Grace sidestepped the child. “I don’t want to get my dress covered with baby slobber.”

And with one last look at the baby and his drool, the mother-of-the-bride abandoned her

“Don’t judge me, kid,” Stephanie muttered as she silently swore that if Mariam didn’t get back soon and take the kid, she was going to drop him on the soft couch cushions behind her, and make a run for it. She might babysit brides and their grooms, but she drew the line at babysitting anything that resembled a kid.

Instead, she stood there frozen, holding the kid at arm’s length. When his bottom lip began to tremble and his big blue eyes filled with crocodile tears, she felt another tug at her heart.

Then the kid opened his mouth and wailed for his mother.

Stephanie’s panic doubled and as she looked toward the kid’s mother for help, her gaze collided with Stone’s. She watched him break away from the circle of women and close the distance between them, his long strides purposeful, his gaze oblique.

Between the panic of being responsible for something so tiny as the baby, and the fact that the man who starred in her nightly fantasies was approaching, she wanted to make a run for it.

Stone stopped in front of her. As he rescued the baby from her, his attention dropped to the kid.

“How’s my favorite nephew?” he asked as he planted a kiss on the suddenly no longer crying toddler’s cheek and tossed him into the air.

As he caught him safely, Mariam joined him, her sharp gaze accessing Stephanie. “Sorry, I assumed you were exaggerating about not being good with children.”

Stephanie took a step back, her gaze fixed on Stone and the toddler safely nestled in his arms. “I wasn’t.”

“Jim Junior still plays strange sometimes.” With another accessing glance in her direction, Mariam took the toddler from her brother and settled him on her hip. “Is it nap time, my big boy?”

Cooing gently to him, she walked away, only stopping to give Stone a kiss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re home to control the craziness.”

As Stone turned to Stephanie, she felt the pull toward him, like the first time she’d seen him at her grandma’s wedding, and resisted the urge to step into him.

But then she inhaled the scent of him—some light tangy scent of aftershave—and the discomfort in her stomach eased. As he captured her hand in his, heat rushed through her fingertips, up her arm, and infused the rest of her body with desire. She caught back the urge to step forward into him and press her nose against his neck.

“So a wedding planner, huh?”

She forced a smile and a saucy tone. “At least my clients get a happily-ever-after.”

“Even if it’s only temporary.”

A woman in a bun and ugly glasses poked him in the ribs and nudged him aside, and the movement brought back the scent of baking. “Get a room, Boss.”

Stephanie pulled her arm back and wiped her palm against her skirt, hoping to get rid of the feel of his skin against her own. Because it sizzled through her, all the way to her toes. And the last thing she needed in her life was a man to complicate things.

The woman elbowed her way in between them, shoved an armload of bride magazines into Stone’s arms, and shook Stephanie’s hand. “I’m Wanda, the hired help. Feel free to ignore me. That’s what my boss does.” Through the thick lens of her glasses, Wanda gazed at her as though she were a bug under a microscope. “If you need any assistance with the wedding plans, please give me a shout. I’d be more than happy to help.”

Before Stephanie could thank her, Wanda took the magazines out of Stone’s arms, and giving him a smirk, sat down and proceeded to look through the binders of photos on the coffee table.

In an attempt to control her hormones and the topsy turvy condition of her stomach, Stephanie turned and met Grace’s inquisitive gaze. The narrow eyed woman looked from her son to Stephanie, then back again. A cold smile added to the brittleness of her personality. “Do you two know each other?”

Sending him a sideways glance, she shrugged and channelled innocence. “We met when my grandma Elvira married his great uncle Morty.”

His mother raised one brow, then seemed to discard whatever she’d been about to say. Instead, she turned to face him directly. “Talk some sense into your sister. This zombie wedding is the most ridiculous idea she’s ever had.”

On the other side, Liz grabbed his jacket sleeve and stamped her foot. “Don’t you dare. You
promised
to be on my side. You
promised
to get Mother off my back.”

He glanced between his mother and sister, appearing calm and totally oblivious to their disagreement. The only giveaway was the tick in his jaw. “Where’s the groom, sis?”

“I’m picking him up from the airport soon.” Liz’s annoyance turned to that sunny radiance that put a lump of dread in Stephanie’s stomach. “You’re going to love him, Stone. He’s so sweet and funny, and he’s written a song especially for me for the wedding. All of my girlfriends are so jealous.”

Grace stepped forward. “I found the perfect gown at—”

Liz’s mouth turned down at the corners. “Already arranged, Mother. The seamstress will be here tomorrow for the fitting.”

The room turned scary quiet, and Stephanie wanted to grab Stone out of the line of fire, maybe escape someplace warm and cozy and private with him. Maybe pick up where they left off and—

Grace's mouth tightened, and through lips that barely moved, she said, “You picked out your gown without me?”

“Sorry.” With a shrug and a grin, Liz held her arms out at her sides, threw back her head, and spun around the room, making it perfectly clear she wasn’t sorry at all. “It’s the most gorgeous gown in the whole wide world. My friends will be green with envy.”

Her friends
.

Not the groom or her mother. Stephanie resisted the urge to frown.

Stone shifted out from between the two women. “I’ll pick up the groom. It’ll give me a chance to get to know my future brother-in-law.”

“Are you kidding? You’ll give him the third degree and frighten him off.” With a laugh and a shake of her head, Liz plucked the keys out of her pocket. “I’d rather you took Stephanie to the doctor. Maybe he can give her something to settle her stomach.”

Stephanie took a step back. “No, that’s really not necessary.”

Stone indicated his assistant, who looked like she was attempting to disappear into the cushions on the couch. “Wanda can take the wedding planner to the doctor. I’ll come to the airport with you.”

“Liz doesn’t want you acting like a third wheel,” his mother stated, a smile blooming across her face. “You can stay here and help me personalize the wedding invitations.”

Liz fisted her hands at her sides. “Mother, there are no invitations.”

“Then I will order some. You can’t have a proper wedding without formal invitations.” Grace unclenched her teeth and turned her focus on Stone. “It will give us time to talk, catch up.”

His gaze landed on Stephanie and she stilled the urge to take another step back. “Wanda’s handwriting is far better than mine. She can help you. I’ll take the wedding planner to the doctor.”

His assistant shot to her feet, a feral expression on her sharp features. “I’ll do the wedding planner.”

Stephanie met his gaze head on.

He’s already done me, but I wouldn’t mind him doing me again
.

It was almost as if he could read her mind. The edge of his mouth turned up in one corner.

A maid walked in with a tray of an assortment of baked goods and set it on the coffee table, and as the scent of yeast and sugar reached Stephanie’s nose, the contents of her stomach rolled.

She swallowed hard and sat down on the couch.

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