Wedding Bell Blues (7 page)

Janie took a breath. “What about my dress?”

“Not yet.” Reba smiled at her. “I’ll show you yours when the other bridesmaids get here.”

Voices sounded in the hall outside the parlor as Allie walked in with Bethany Kronk. Both of them had on their working clothes, chef’s pants for Allie, multi-colored scrubs for Bethany.

Reba smiled again. “Right on time. Let’s get you all into these gowns.”

Janie watched as Reba and her seamstress fluttered back and forth, nipping and tucking. The champagne color made Allie and Bethany glow. They were going to be beautiful. Janie frowned at herself in the mirror, wishing she had a dress just like theirs.

“And now, Miss Janie, let’s get you dressed up too.” Reba gave her a slightly sly smile, then reached into an open box resting on the sofa.

Janie caught her breath. The dress Reba shook out in front of her was like the other two, but not exactly. For one thing, her dress was a pale lavender. The sash below the bust was a darker shade of bluish purple, like the band at the bottom of the skirt.

Where the other dresses shone with a smooth light, like burnished metal, Janie’s dress almost glistened, changing colors subtly as the skirt moved, like a twilight-colored pearl.

“Oh Janie,” Bethany murmured. “How beautiful.”

Janie stripped off her jeans and camp shirt. She raised her arms and let Reba drop the dress over her head, then turned so that she could zip it up.

The bodice hugged her breasts, pushing them up as if they were being offered for inspection. The skirt hung straight to the floor, pooling slightly over her bare feet.

“Shoes.” Reba dug through a pile of boxes until she emerged with a pair of lavender kid sandals. Janie slipped them onto her bare feet, then pushed her hair back from her face.

From across the room, Allie and Bethany stared at her.

Allie swallowed. “My god, who is this woman and what have you done with Janie Dupree?”

Janie turned to look at herself in the mirror. The lavender made her skin almost golden, emphasizing the black sheen of her hair. Suddenly, her dark brown eyes had developed navy highlights. The woman in the mirror was mysterious, ethereal, sexy.

Beautiful.

Janie caught her breath. It was the most amazing dress she’d every put on. “Oh thank you,” she whispered, turning to Reba. “Thank you so much.”

Reba grabbed a tissue from a box on the coffee table, dabbing at her nose. “You’re more than welcome, sweetheart. Now let’s see if we can make any sense out of these hair ornaments.”

Janie headed to the Dew Drop at five, although Reba had given her a couple of glasses of champagne while the seamstress had made her adjustments. Janie figured she’d had more champagne over the past week than she’d had in her entire previous life. And they hadn’t even gotten to the major events yet.

Inside the bar, Docia sat at a table at the side, watching a bunch of men in back shoot darts.

“Where’s Cal?” Janie slid into a chair.

Docia shook her head. “Who knows. Trying something on, picking something up, dropping something off.” Her lips firmed to a thin line. “I knew this whole wedding thing would turn out to be a pain in the ass. That’s why I didn’t want to get into it.”

“Your mama’s got everything covered.” Janie smiled encouragingly. Clearly, it was her turn to be on keep-Docia-with-the-program duty.

Docia gave her a slightly mutinous look. “She’s got it all covered, all right. Every time I try to tell her what I’d like, she says her way is just the same only better. The whole thing is such a hassle.”

Janie tried to think of something soothing to say. It would have helped if she hadn’t been absolutely spot on about Reba’s persuasive techniques. “Well anyway, Docia, the bridesmaids’ dresses are absolutely fantastic. We look great!”

“Do you?” Docia’s lips curved up again. “I love the one Mama found for you—she showed me a picture. Did she say anything about Sherice’s dress?”

Janie nodded. “It’s being air-lifted in as we speak.”

“Good. By the way, Daddy’s having a barbecue tomorrow night at Buckhorn. You and Otto are invited.”

A chorus of groans arose from the dart game spectators. “No offense, Toleffson, but you might want to take up bridge,” Wonder crowed from the back of the room.

Pete Toleffson lounged at the side of the room, leaning his shoulder against the wood paneling as one of the other men picked up the darts. He wore jeans and a gray T-shirt with DMPD across his chest.

His extremely broad chest. Janie took a deep breath. Well, so what? Otto’s chest was broad too.

After the other player finished, Pete pushed himself up from the wall and pulled the darts loose from the target. He moved easily across the floor, cutting through the crowd to stand at the dart line. Something about him reminded Janie of a large tom cat, strolling effortlessly along a rooftop.

No. More like a cheetah strolling across the plains, looking for prey to chase.

“Watch and learn, Wonder, watch and learn,” Pete crooned, raising his hand. He let fly with a dart.

It pierced the center of the target neatly. A chorus of raucous male voices hooted in the background, and Pete raised his arm again. Janie watched his hand move back and then forward in a perfect arc, sending the dart arching toward the target.

It pierced near the center again, just below the first dart.

This time the hoots were mixed with whistles. “Double bull!” somebody yelled.

Pete raised his hand once more, balancing the dart on his fingers before he sent it flying. The arc looked a little flatter this time. The dart
thunked
into the wall beside the target.

The whistles and hoots were deafening.

Pete shrugged. “Just give me a chance to get my rhythm back, boys.”

“Bridge, Toleffson,” Wonder yelled. “Maybe croquet.”

Janie watched the ripple of muscle across Pete’s back as he loosened his shoulders. Otto had muscles too. Otto was solid muscle.

Pete wasn’t. He flexed his long arms above his head, then leaned back against the wall again, raising narrowed eyes to study the target. His eyes were the color of strong coffee in the dim light of the Dew Drop. Strands of his dark hair flipped over his ears and drifted across his forehead.

God, he was gorgeous.

Janie bit her lip. No. She was not going to be attracted to Pete Toleffson. He was a jerk. Besides, he’d be heading back to Des Moines after The Wedding. Otto lived here in Konigsburg, full time, and so did Janie.

Nonetheless, she had to admit it, at least to herself. Pete Toleffson was one gorgeous hunk. Janie dropped her gaze to her hands on the table in front of her. Staring at Pete Toleffson was not a good idea.

Said gorgeous hunk slid into a chair opposite Docia. “Vanquished.”

Darts. He’s talking about darts.

“Olive okay?” Pete took a swallow of beer.

Docia was smiling now, relaxed and easy. “She’s under the table.”

Janie looked under the table for the first time and saw a large plastic crate resting beside Docia’s chair. “Olive?”

“The dog.” Pete’s hand disappeared into the crate. A long, slender snout edged slightly beyond the edge of the door.

“You’re really good at darts,” Docia remarked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Cal get two bulls-eyes in a row. And he plays a
lot.
He’s even got the rest of us doing it.”

“Misspent youth.” Pete shrugged as he sat up again. “Dad had a dart board in the rec room. We all played a lot. So how are your scores?”

Docia grimaced. “I can hit the target most of the time. I consider that a plus.”

“Definitely.” Pete grinned now. “In some bars that’s enough to make you the champ, particularly late in the evening.”

Docia shook her head. “Janie’s better than I am.”

Pete raised an eyebrow as he turned to her. “You throw darts, tiny? Never would have guessed.”

Janie’s gut tightened. She really hated being called tiny. She wasn’t all
that
small. “I learned when I was a kid.”

“In Janie’s hands, darts are a lethal weapon.” Docia rested her elbows on the table, cupping her chin in one hand. “You should never get in her way. Just ask Joe Roy Ellison.”

Janie’s face grew warm. She hoped the Dew Drop was dark enough to hide her blush. “That was just once when he wouldn’t get away from the target. He thought he was being funny. He said the target was the safest place to stand since I’d never come close.”

Pete frowned slightly. “So what did you do?”

“She darted him.” Docia’s lips spread in a slow grin. “He got off easy.”

“You…darted him?” Pete’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean exactly?”

“I hit him in the butt with a dart.” Janie said it in a rush, hoping it didn’t sound as bad as she knew it did.

Pete’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “You put a dart in him?”

“He was wearing his work pants so it didn’t really penetrate much beyond his back pocket,” she said through gritted teeth. “I was super careful not to aim for anything vital. I was surprised it didn’t bounce off.”

So was Joe Roy, of course, although his surprise had been more centered on the fact that she’d done it at all. That was the end of that relationship, not that Janie was all that sorry to see him go. Joe Roy had a big mouth and nasty ideas.

“He spent the rest of the evening rubbing his ass,” Docia chortled.

Janie dropped her gaze to her hands again. “Better him than me.”

Pete threw his head back and guffawed. “I hereby apologize, Ms. Dupree. You’re clearly a very dangerous woman. I will never call you tiny again.”

“Good. See that you don’t.”

The door swung open behind Docia. Two broad figures were silhouetted against the fading evening light.

“Cal!” Docia called, waving. “Over here.”

Cal stepped into the muted dimness of the Dew Drop. The man who followed him looked a lot more polished but still clearly a Toleffson. His dark brown hair was close cropped, and he wore a burgundy knit shirt with impeccably creased khakis.

Pete jumped to his feet, grinning, one hand outstretched. “Lars!” He pushed away from the table and started toward his brothers.

As Lars moved away from the doorway, a woman stepped inside behind him. Her long, perfectly straightened blonde hair fell to her bare shoulders above a tight black halter top. Her denim skirt stopped somewhere around mid-thigh, revealing a significant amount of bare, tanned leg. As she glanced around the room, she raised a hand to push her bangs back from her forehead. Gold and jewels flashed at her fingers and wrist. The woman’s gaze slid across Docia and Janie with minimal interest.

The entire male population of the Dew Drop seemed to go still, staring. Janie thought she heard a faint, awed whistle from one of the dart players.

The woman looked back at Pete Toleffson again, still not smiling.

“What a dump,” she said in the silence of the bar.

Pete’s grin faded. “Hey, Sherice. Welcome to Konigsburg.”

Chapter Five

That night Pete dreamed he was sharing a bed with his brothers again, as they had when the three of them were small—well, smaller, anyway. Lars was crowding him, and Pete gave him a push. Lars whimpered and snuffled, and then licked Pete’s nose.

Pete’s eyes popped open.

A warm weight nestled at his hip. Someone was snoring, and it took him a moment to realize it wasn’t anybody related to him. Olive lay sprawled across the other side of the bed, her head resting lightly on the pillow.

Right. The first female to share his bed in at least six months, and she was leaving hairs on the sheets. His luck was running true to form.

“Night, Olive,” Pete muttered. He thought he saw Olive’s eyelids flutter in response.

Several hours later, he was dimly aware of whimpering and scratching sounds somewhere near the back of the apartment. He jerked abruptly awake, his head cranking from side to side, then stumbled into the kitchen to see Olive scratching at the door to the stairs. “Okay, dog,” Pete sighed, “gimme a minute.”

He pulled on a pair of jeans, clipped a leash to Olive’s collar, and headed down the stairs and out the door to the street just as Janie Dupree walked by. Olive jerked into her path, sending her crashing backward into Pete. He dropped the leash as Olive galloped into the backyard.

Pete placed a steadying hand on Janie’s shoulder, suddenly aware of soft feminine curves pressing against his partly naked body. Instantly, he was totally awake.

“Morning,” he mumbled. “Sorry about that. Apparently, this was more of an emergency than I realized.”

Olive was already peeing on the nearest live oak. Janie stood, straightening nonexistent creases in her shirt. “That’s okay. How are you two getting along?”

Pete shrugged. “So far, so good. I need to get her out for more exercise. I thought I might take her to that shindig tonight.”

“The Kent family barbecue? Do you need a ride?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” Getting Olive outside had taken precedence over less pressing matters.

“Billy’s lodge is about fifteen miles from here, up in the hills. The road’s a little rough, but Otto’s got a heavy-duty truck. You could ride with us.”

Pete considered the joys of experiencing Otto Friedrich at close quarters for fifteen miles. “That’s okay. I’ll hitch a ride with Cal or Lars.” Whoever wasn’t taking his mother.

“Okay.” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever run a bookshop, have you?”

Pete shook his head, leaning down to pick up Olive’s leash again. “Nope. I ran a snack bar at the lake back home, but that’s the extent of my retail experience. Why?”

“Docia’s got the final fitting for her gown this morning, and I wanted to go with her. But we don’t have anybody to look after the store.”

“I’ll do it. How hard can it be?”

Janie’s lips curved up in a faint smile. “That sounds like a lead-in to one of those sitcom scenes where the store gets trashed.”

“I promise to return the shop to you in the same shape I found it.” He grinned back at her.

“Great. Come on down around ten and I’ll show you how the cash register works.”