Simply Irresistible

let you talk to her now.”

“Wait, there’s one more thing.”

“What?”

Wait until I get home before you decide to marry your boyfriend. He’s a wimp and a weenie and you deserve someone better. He sat down heavily on the side of the bed. He didn’t have any right to demand anything. “Never mind. I’m really tired.”

“Is there something else you needed?”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “No, put Lexie on.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lexie strolled down the aisle as if she were born to play the part of a flower girl. Curls bounced at her shoulders and rose petals fluttered from her gloved hand to the carpet of the small nondenominational church. Georgeanne stood on the left side of the minister and resisted the urge to pull at the hemline of the pink satin and crepe tank dress resting two inches above her knees. Her gaze was fixed on her daughter as Lexie sashayed down the aisle dressed in white lace and beaming as if she were the reason the small group had assembled in the tiny church. Georgeanne couldn’t help beaming a little herself. She was extremely proud of her little drama queen.

When Lexie reached her mother’s side, she turned and smiled at the man standing across the aisle in a navy blue Hugo Boss. She raised three fingers off the handle of her basket and wiggled them. One side of John’s mouth lifted, and he waved two fingers back at her.

The wedding march began and all eyes turned to the doorway. A wreath of white roses and baby’s breath circled Mae’s short blond hair, and the long white organza sheath Georgeanne had helped her choose looked beautiful on her. The dress was simple and emphasized Mae instead of losing her in yards of satin and tulle. The slit up the front gave her short stature a nice vertical line.

Mae walked down the aisle unescorted with her head held high. She hadn’t invited her family, instead filling the bride’s pew with her friends from work. Georgeanne had tried to persuade her to include her estranged parents, but Mae was stubborn. Her parents hadn’t come to Ray’s funeral, she didn’t want them at her wedding. She didn’t want them to ruin the happiest day of her life.

While all eyes were on the bride, Georgeanne took the opportunity to study the groom. In his black tuxedo, Hugh was very handsome, but she wasn’t interested in his looks or the cut of his coat. She watched for his reaction to Mae, and what she saw alleviated some of her worries over the unexpected romance and hurried wedding. He lit up so much that Georgeanne half expected him to hold out his arms so Mae could run into them. His whole face smiled, and his eyes shined liked he’d just won the lottery. He looked like a man desperately in love. It was no wonder Mae had fallen so fast.

As Mae walked passed, she smiled at Georgeanne, then moved to stand beside Hugh.

“Dearly beloved…”

Georgeanne dropped her gaze to the toes of her beige leather T-straps. Desperately in love, she thought. The night before, she’d told Charles that she couldn’t marry him. She couldn’t marry a man she didn’t love desperately. Her gaze moved across the aisle to John’s black tassel loafers. Several times in her life, she’d seen him look at her with lust heavy in his blue eyes. In fact, the last time he’d come to pick up Lexie, she’d seen that “I want to jump your bones” look. But lust wasn’t the same as love. Lust didn’t even last past the next morning, especially with John. Her gaze traveled up his long legs, over his double-breasted jacket, and up his burgundy and navy tie. Her scrutiny moved to his face and to the blue eyes staring back at her.

He smiled. Just a pleasant little smile that sent off warning bells in her head. She turned her attention to the ceremony. John wanted something.

The women seated in the front pews began to softly weep, and Georgeanne glanced in their direction. Even if she hadn’t met them briefly before the wedding, Georgeanne would have guessed they belonged to Hugh. The whole family resembled each other, from his mother and three sisters to his eight nieces and nephews.

They cried throughout the short ceremony, and when it was over, they cried as they followed the recessional. Georgeanne and Lexie walked beside John back up the aisle and through the double doors. Several times the sleeve of his navy blazer almost touched her arm.

In the vestibule Hugh’s mother pushed her son out of the way to get to his bride. “You’re just a doll,” his mother declared as she hugged Mae and passed her around to the sisters.

Georgeanne, John, and Lexie moved out of the way as the small group of Mae’s friends and Hugh’s family gathered around the couple to congratulate them.

“Here.” Lexie handed the basket of rose petals to Georgeanne and sighed. “I’m tired.”

“I think we can go ahead and leave for the reception,” John said as he moved to stand behind Georgeanne. “Why don’t you and Lexie ride with me?”

Georgeanne turned and gazed up at him. He looked extremely fine in his wedding suit, except for the drooping red rose pinned to his lapel. He’d stuck the pin through the stem rather than the body of the flower. “We can’t leave until Wendell takes his pictures.”

“Who?”

“Wendell. He’s the photographer Mae hired, and we can’t leave until he takes the wedding pictures.”

John’s smile turned to a grimace. “Are you sure?”

Georgeanne nodded and pointed to his chest. “Your rose is about to fall off.”

He glanced down and shrugged. “I’m no good at this. Can you fix it?”

Against her better judgment, Georgeanne slipped her fingers beneath the lapel of his navy suit. With his head bent over hers, she pulled out the long straight pin. She was so close, she could feel his breath at her right temple. The smell of his cologne filled her head, and if she turned her face, their mouths would touch. She pushed the pin though the wool and into the dark red rose.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. I do this all the time.” She ran her hand down his lapel, smoothing out invisible wrinkles, savoring the texture of expensive wool beneath her fingertips.

“You pin flowers on men all the time?”

She shook her head and her temple brushed his smooth jaw. “I pin them on myself and Mae. For our business.”

He put a hand on her bare arm. “Are you sure you don’t want to ride with me to the reception? Virgil’s going to be there, and I thought you might not want to go alone.”

With the chaos surrounding the wedding, Georgeanne had managed to avoid thinking about her ex-fiancй. The thought of him now formed a lump in her stomach. “Did you tell him about Lexie?”

“He knows.”

“How did he take it?” She slid her fingers over one more invisible wrinkle, then dropped her hand.

John shrugged his big shoulders. “Okay. It’s been seven years, so he’s over it.”

Georgeanne was relieved. “Then I’ll drive myself to the reception, but thank you for the offer.”

“You’re welcome.” His slid his warm palm up to her shoulder, then back down to her wrist. The hair on her arm tingled. “Are you sure about those pictures?”

“What?”

“I hate waiting around to get my picture taken.”

He was doing it again. Taking up all the space and sucking out her ability to think. Touching him was both sweet pleasure and sheer torture. “I would have thought you’d be used to it by now.”

“I don’t mind the pictures, it’s the waiting. I’m not a patient man. When I want something, I like to get it on.”

Georgeanne had a feeling he wasn’t talking about pictures anymore. A few minutes later, as the photographer positioned them on the steps in front of the pulpit, she was forced to endure the whole pleasure/ torture experience again. Wendell positioned them with the women standing in front of the men, while Lexie stood close to Mae.

“I want to see happy little smiles,” the photographer requested, his soft voice suggesting that perhaps he’d gotten in touch with his feminine side. As he looked through the camera on his tripod, he motioned them closer