Stand-In Groom

front of the stage area. We have to get the pictures up before we can do anything with those.”

“I hope you’re going to take lots of pictures of this for your Web site, Annie.” Bryan kissed her on the cheek. “I can’t wait to see what it looks like all put together.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to see the photos.” George cuffed the younger man around the back of the neck and escorted him back out the door.

She frowned, trying to figure out what that comment meant. His employer was supposed to be media shy, given that he’d gone to great lengths to make sure his wedding planner didn’t know for whom she was working.

Her timer beeped at a quarter after five as she posted the last two numbers. Time to order pizza. She snagged her planner and phone and perched on top of the ice chest to call her favorite Italian restaurant. No fast- food pizza for this crew, with as hard as they were working.

She stood when George and the boys approached, pointing at the cooler. “What do y’all want on your pizza?” A cacophony of answers showered her and she reduced it down to one word: everything.

George fished his wallet out and handed her a credit card. “Expense account.”

Excellent. One less thing for her to have to keep track of. “Thanks.” With the boys’ chatter, Pamela and Trevor’s power tools, and the music, which the guys had turned up to hear over the rest, Anne stepped into the office and pulled the door closed behind her. She ordered from Giovanni’s all the time, and they always accommodated her, no matter the volume of food she needed.

When she opened the door, all she could hear was music and voices—no power tools. Hopefully Pamela hadn’t run into a problem. She hurried down the hall into the ballroom.

The seven college boys swayed back and forth, arms around each other’s shoulders, singing “That’s Amore” at the top of their lungs, doing their best to drown out Dean Martin. Pamela and Trevor Grant waltzed across the empty parquet floor, sawdust and all.

“See, that’s what I was talking about.” Anne had to raise her voice for the guys to hear her. “That’s romantic music.” She gasped when George grasped her hand, pulled her out onto the dance floor, and twirled her around.

“Yes, it is.” His breath tickled her ear as he drew her close and swung her around the room.

The grace she’d only had a taste of that afternoon when he’d surprised her in the supply room proved to be greater than she’d suspected. Heat burned through her T-shirt at the small of her back where he held her. Muscles rippled under the gray cotton fabric where her hand rested on his shoulder. Her trainers squeaked against the shiny wood floor.

Then he started to sing. No, not sing. Croon. Just like Dean Martin. Her knees wobbled. His gaze captured hers, and the rest of the world disappeared. The song ended, and he twirled her, then pulled her back into his arms and dipped her. Gently, he raised her until their noses almost touched.

His gaze dropped to her lips, and he swallowed hard. “We need to talk.” His voice cracked.

“Yes.” She allowed him to take her hand and used the silent walk to the office to regain her composure. Once inside the small room, she perched on the edge of the old wooden desk.

He closed the door and leaned against it. “Anne, there’s so much I want to say to you, but…”

“But you’re bound by your word to your employer not to.” She smiled. “I know I’ve put you in a difficult place by demanding that you be completely honest with me. I don’t expect you to tell me what you’ve sworn to keep secret.” She dropped her gaze to her clasped hands. “We all have secrets.” She had to tell him about Cliff. Before he found out from someone else. “Speaking of secrets, there’s something I need to tell you.” She glanced at him.

His relaxed posture encouraged her. “Anne, no matter what you tell me, it won’t change the way I feel about you.”

The way I feel about you…and that was? Her heart careened. Not what she was here to discuss with him. Focus! “Before we figure out what our relationship is, there’s something in my past you should know. I…” It was one thing to tell a family member. Quite a different thing to tell the man working his way into her affections. “I’ve told you I was engaged to be married a little more than ten years ago.”

His easy expression didn’t change, except for a slight raising of his dark brows. “I never expected you wouldn’t have broken relationships in your past.”

Oh, it had been broken, all right. “That’s not the whole story.” Trepidation coursed through her. “I was engaged to Cliff Ballantine. Back before he was ‘Cliff Ballantine.’ ”

“And?”

“And…” She shrugged. “I just thought you should hear it from me before someone else in the family slipped up and let it out.”

He nodded, seeming to contemplate her words. “May I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do you still…have feelings for him?” He crossed his arms and leaned his head to the left.

“If contempt counts as having feelings for him, then yes. You know what happened—he took advantage of me and then left me in the lurch when he didn’t need me anymore.” At his silence, she dropped her gaze. Meredith had been right. The truth about her past upset him.

The tips of his athletic shoes appeared beside hers. He cupped her chin and raised her head. “Then he’s the biggest fool in the world.” He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips warm, soft, and electric.

Tears burned twin trails down her face. She touched his cheek, and he trembled. He raised his head, gave her another quick kiss, then pulled her into his arms. “Oh, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Lightning bolted through her when he kissed the side of her neck. “I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” She stepped back. “But George, until I’ve figured out how to forgive Cliff, I’ll never be over him. I’ve been praying about it, but I just can’t seem to get over the anger.”

He took a tissue from the box on the desk and dried her face. “Perhaps if you talked to him.”

“Ha!” She shook her head. “There’s no way I’d ever be able to get in touch with him. He’s probably surrounded by people whose only job is to keep commoners like me away from him.”

George traced the contours of her face with his fingertips. “You’d be surprised what God can bring about.”

“You’re such an optimist.” She stepped back into his open arms and relaxed into his embrace. “The only way I’d be able to talk to Cliff Ballantine is if he were to walk through those doors.”

A sound rumbled in George’s chest. “Stranger things have happened.”

Chapter 20

Headlights flashed in Anne’s rearview mirror. Who in the world would be pulling into her driveway at three o’clock in the morning? She parked and cut off the engine, then reached into the center console for her pepper spray.

The car pulled up beside her, and she released a shaky breath when she recognized Jenn’s classic Mustang. Wearily, she climbed out and fumbled with her keys to locate the master for the back door.

“You just getting in?” Jenn called in a hushed voice.

Anne nodded. “And I feel guilty about leaving when I did. There’s still so much to finish tomorrow—I mean today.”

Jenn skirted her car and put her arm around Anne’s waist. “If Fridays weren’t one of my busiest nights of the week, I’d offer to help.”

“I know. Thanks. How come you’re getting in so late?”

“I went out with some of the staff for midnight breakfast after closing. Sort of a celebration. We scored a ninety-eight on our latest health inspection.”

“The surprise inspection? Jenn, that’s great.” Anne looked down to find the right key for the back door.

“So was George there tonight?” In the yellow glow from the porch light, mischief glimmered in Jenn’s eyes.