Don't Tell the Wedding Planner (11 page)

The moment Callie’s image appeared on screen, he felt his tension ease. She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, wearing pajamas. Unfortunately, the fifteen-inch screen on his laptop didn’t do her beautiful eyes justice.

“This is a surprise,” she said.

“A pleasant one, I hope.”

“Absolutely.”

He couldn’t see the playful light in her gaze, but he knew of its presence because of her tone. And for a moment, all he wanted was to climb onto a plane and fly back to New Orleans where everything seemed so much easier and simpler.

And certainly a hell of a lot more fun.

“Did I interrupt anything?” he asked.

“Nothing exciting.”

Files and small patches of fabric samples surrounded Callie on the bed. A silk robe clung to her shoulders but remained open in front. Matt spied a lacy tank top and what looked like a feminine pair of...

“Are those boxer shorts?” he said.

“You can take the tomboy out of the country, you know, but...” Smiling, she finished the sentence with a shrug and reached for her bedside table, picking up a glass of white wine. “At least they’re hot pink and edged with lace. Besides, I haven’t had to entertain company this late at night since you left.”

A twinge of possessiveness flared, and Matt tamped it down and concentrated instead on the twinkle in her eyes on the monitor.

Her hair hung in a gentle loop at the nape of her neck, gathered in some sort of casual twist that managed to look comfortable and pretty and sexy, all at the same time. An empty plate on her nightstand suggested she’d just finished her dinner. Clearly she’d eaten in bed.

He wished he’d eaten in her bed, too.

Matt glanced at the files scattered on her comforter. “What are you working on?”

Her smile held more than a hint of mischievousness. “Just sitting down to compose my reply to an
Ex Factor
reader for my blog. Actually, you’re the perfect person to help me with my response.”

Matt let out a soft scoff. “I doubt that. I thought this was Colin’s department.”

Callie laughed. “He’s responsible for the man’s view, yes. But I wanted your thoughts before I replied.”

“What’s the question?”

Two seconds ticked by before she answered.

“A bride-to-be asking for advice on how to convince her future brother-in-law to walk her down the aisle,” she said.

The one-two punch to his conscience came out of the blue, shocking the hell out of him.

Matt let out a groan. “You’re making that up.”

Callie shifted some paperwork and fabric swatches aside, settling back against her headboard with her glass of wine in hand. She stretched those toned, silky legs in front of her, bringing to mind when they’d been wrapped around his waist. The inside of his chest grew hot, heating the blood shooting through his veins.

When would he get a chance to hold her again?

He pushed the hopeless thought aside and concentrated on Callie, who was currently eyeing him over the rim of her wineglass. An expression like that meant trouble for sure.

She took a sip and carefully set her drink on the nightstand. “I had a long talk with Penny yesterday.”

Of course she had.

“She was desperately trying to come up with someone to walk her down the aisle,” Callie said. “And I told her she should ask you again.”

Matt shifted uneasily on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table just to the left of his laptop. Might as well get comfortable for the conversation ahead.

“Yeah?” he replied in his best noncommittal voice.

He knew Tommy was disappointed Matt hadn’t told Penny he’d give her away. His brother hadn’t come out and said as much, but Matt knew. The closer they drew to the date of the wedding, the tenser things had grown. Still, compared to all the other issues brewing between them, Penny’s request seemed minor in comparison.

Callie’s lighthearted tone was long gone. “Matt, you said yourself that I should be grateful for the family I have. That I should get over myself and go to that reunion because wasting the family I have was stupid.”

His brow crinkled. “Those are
not
the words I used.”

“No,” she said, her chuckle drifting over the speaker. “You were definitely more tactful. But that’s what you meant. And you were right. Going to the reunion is the right thing for me to do. I have a family. One that wants to see me, even if they do make the occasional callous remark.” Callie sat up a touch, her brown eyes earnest, her voice soft. “You don’t have that choice because your parents are dead, and that’s a tragedy. But Penny doesn’t have a choice, either. Her parents refuse to have anything to do with her.” She paused before going on. “And that’s a tragedy, too.”

“I know.”

Several beats passed by before Callie went on, tipping her head. “Do you not like Penny?”

He resisted the urge to bring the video chat to a close. He could sign off and close the lid to the laptop and be done with this conversation. But no matter the topic, the sight of Callie in her sexy boxer pj’s was impossible to resist.

“It’s not that.” Matt wearily scrubbed his hand down his face. “Penny’s fine.”

And he meant the words, he seriously did. They weren’t just a platitude he pulled out of his ass when convenient. He admired anyone who could fight an addiction and win. He knew better than most just how hard that battle could be. Penny was bright, capable and, if nothing else, she clearly loved Tommy.

“Are you against this marriage?” Callie asked.

“No.”
He winced at the force behind his words. He dropped his hands into his lap, and his voice dropped several octaves, as well. “Maybe.”

In response to Callie’s hiked brow, Matt let out a sigh. “Yes.”

Despite the harsh word, it felt good to get the sentiment off his chest. From the very moment Tommy had introduced Penny to Matt, Matt had been fighting the part of him dying to find a way to send the woman packing. He let out a soft scoff at the thought. As if he held
that
kind of power in his hands.

But the overwhelming urge had nothing to do with Penny personally and
everything
to do with the need to protect his brother, no matter what.

Matt felt like a dirtbag for admitting he didn’t want Tommy and Penny to marry, but Callie’s gaze remained free of judgment. And as he studied those beautiful brown eyes, relief slowly washed over him because he knew he could be absolutely, brutally honest with Callie. No matter how ugly his feelings, she wouldn’t hate him for the truth.

He definitely could have used her steady presence during the worst of Tommy’s addiction years.

“Tell me,” she said softly.

The tight knot in his chest unwound a bit. “Jesus, Callie,” he groaned out. “It’s like taking the potential for disaster and multiplying the bloody thing by a hundred.”

“What are you talking about?”

He dragged a hand through his damp hair, knowing he was leaving tufts sticking out in all directions. “I’m talking about Tommy relapsing and dragging Penny down with him.” He scowled in an attempt to mask the all-consuming fear as he considered the alternative. “Or vice versa. If she starts using again, how is Tommy going to resist temptation?”

Fear gripped him, and he hated himself for succumbing to the familiar emotion.

He shifted on the couch again. Now that he was on a roll, the words spilled out. “Or let’s say they do manage to stay clean while they’re together. What happens if the relationship tanks? Because let’s face the facts here. Two former users probably aren’t the most stable of sorts. How would Tommy handle the stress of a breakup and not be tempted to slip?”

Callie pursed her lips in thought as she reached for her glass and took another sip of wine. “Every relationship has the potential to tear a person down.” She set her drink aside and met Matt’s gaze again. “And this one is no different.”

He briefly pressed his lids closed, wishing the logic helped. “I know.”

But how many ran the potential to lead to something so dark? So permanent? Because nothing was more permanent than
death.

Callie crossed her arms across her chest. “Tommy and Penny understand each other better than anyone else ever could. Yes, they could bring each other down. There’s no doubt about that.” She didn’t sugarcoat the words, even allowing more time for them to sink deep before going on. “But I happen to believe they’ll hold each other up.”

He hiked a brow dryly. “Yeah, well, you arrange weddings for a living. Your favorite character is Elizabeth Bennet, a woman who conveniently managed to fall in love with a man who could save her family from destitution. A fairy tale.”

“
Pride and Prejudice
is not a fairy tale.”

Matt hiked a brow. “Close enough. Seriously, Callie, real life rarely works out like that.” He let out a self-directed scoff. “You see happily ever after around every corner, but I get to patch people up after they beat the crap out of each other.”

I get to be the lone family member left to pull my brother out of the gutter, over and over again.

“Did you have a bad shift tonight?” she asked.

Hell, yeah.

“Kind of,” he said instead. Despite the topic of conversation, Matt fought a smile, his lips twitching at the memory. “The chief of staff argued with the head of E.R. about transferring a patient, a divorcing couple had a screaming match in triage and two best friends showed up because they’d beat the crap out of each other over a computer game.”

Callie rolled her eyes. “The friends were guys, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah. It started out as a joke and ended up fairly ugly,” Matt said. “To be fair, a case of beer had been consumed, so I’m not sure you can hold them completely accountable for their stupidity.”

“Of course you can hold them accountable,” she said. “There’s no excuse for being stupid enough to drink so much alcohol that a computer game becomes more important than a friendship.”

Callie leaned forward and came closer to the screen, lying on her belly and folding her arms on the bed. The new position brought her close enough for him to see the light in her eyes. This time the spark was earnest, nothing playful about it at all.

“Penny needs you right now, Matt. She’s going to be a sister of sorts, and you owe it to your brother to start this relationship out on the right foot.” A line appeared between her brows. “Don’t make Penny keep paying for the same mistakes over and over again.”

Callie was right. He
knew
she was right. Penny and Tommy both deserved Matt’s unconditional support. But so far, he’d let fear rule his reactions. The habit would be difficult to break because the fear ran so deep that nothing short of a scalpel could cut the sucker out, and even that would take a significant piece of Matt during the process.

He’d just have to carry on with the fear firmly in place.

Matt blew out a breath and studied the woman on the screen, wishing like hell they were in the same room. “Man, I wish I could touch you right now.”

A glimmer appeared in her eyes. “Tell you what,” she said. “If you agree to at least have a conversation with Penny about the wedding, I’ll let you watch me touch myself.”

The bark of shocked amusement slipped out even as Matt’s heart set up a pounding pace beneath his sternum. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“I’m deadly serious.”

He eyed Callie’s cleavage, the potential blooming and bringing all sort of delicious scenarios to mind. “How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“I just had a conversation with my mother,” she said dryly, “which rarely goes well. The numbing effects of two glasses of wine are about the only way I can survive our conversations. Unfortunately, that’s just enough alcohol to also make me reckless—” a huge grin crept up her mouth “—but not enough to excuse me from my stupidity.”

Callie dropped the robe down her shoulders and tossed it aside, leaving her lacy tank and the curve of her breasts displayed. The view on Matt’s screen improved considerably.

“I’ll touch mine if you’ll touch yours,” she said smoothly.

The libido-punching words and the seductive look on her face morphed his blood into flaming rivers of fire, licking along his limbs. He fisted his hand, fighting the groan.

He’d give anything to able to reach through the screen and pull Callie onto his lap. His mind filled with images of his time with Callie: the wet shirt plastered against firm breasts, her cheeks flushed, her mouth parted as she convulsed around his fingers in the hammock.

Even better? Callie beneath him as she’d urged him on in her bed.

On screen, she reached for the hem of her lacy tank and pulled the fabric over her head.

Callie now sat there, beautiful breasts exposed, her top dangling from her finger. “So what do you think?”

His voice hoarse, he said, “I think what they say about cameras is right.”

“What do they say?” she said as she tipped her head curiously, a lock of honey-colored hair falling across her cheek.

And a bare-chested woman had no right looking so innocently adorable and sexy and sophisticated, all at the same time.

“The lens does add five pounds.” A teasing grin tried to hijack his mouth. “Specifically, 2.5 to each side. You look bigger, even without the corset.”

She threw back her head and laughed, and the sound soothed away the lingering bits of his bad mood, courtesy of a shift with patients who’d brought their arguments into his E.R. Matt’s muscles relaxed as the tension slipped away.

Callie scooted forward and propped her elbows on the bed, her breasts now hanging in full view of the camera. The immediate reaction of Matt’s libido almost did him in, tenting his sweatpants in an embarrassing way, and he tried to discreetly ease the pressure by tugging on his waistband.

“Careful,” Callie said, “or I’ll hit the minimize tab on the screen, and you’ll look much smaller.”

A hoarse chuckle escaped. “Don’t you dare.”

Though God knows he had bigger worries to be concerned about, like the fact that moving air in and out of his chest suddenly felt complicated.

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Her tone husky, she slowly slid a hand down her stomach. “You?”