And I’m not going to marry one of the three remaining bachelors.” Emily raised her chin. “They’re great guys, but I’m not ready to settle down. I just got the promotion and I need to concentrate on my career.”
“Work won’t keep you warm on a cold winter’s night.”
A smile tugged on the corners of Emily’s lips. “You sound like my father.”
“He loves you.”
“I know,” she said. “That’s why he’s so concerned about my marital status. But I already made the mistake of letting him pick out one husband from the company roster. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life alone, but I won’t marry another co-worker that he chooses for me.”
“Speaking of your ex-husband, Todd stopped by to see me.”
“Me, too.”
Carmella raised an arched brow. “And?”
“Nothing,” Emily admitted. “He’s upset over losing his job. The golden boy’s rocket isn’t climbing so high anymore and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”
“That’s not your fault.”
“If we hadn’t gotten married he’d still be working here and wouldn’t have had to take a job with another company and be laid off.” Frustration laced each of her words. Worry creased her forehead. “I wish my father understood why I don’t want to get into that situation again. It’s humiliating and wrong.”
“You mean the world to your father, Emily. He’d never do anything on purpose to embarrass you.”
“Then he should realize I’ll marry when I’m ready.” She pulled the stop button out and the elevator descended. “Not anytime before that.”
“What about our plan?” Carmella asked. “Should I keep researching the final three or stop?”
Doubts swirled in Emily’s mind. She thought about the three remaining bachelor executives: Reed Connors, Nate Leeman and Jack Devon. Nate was a brilliant workaholic who seemed to live at the office. Jack was a ladies’ man according to Boston Magazine, who named him one of the city’s “Fifty Hottest Bachelors,” and a mystery to all who worked with him. And Reed worked hard and had lofty ambitions that could play right into her father’s hand. “Let’s see what happens with Reed first.”
Samantha Wilson stood midway up the aisle of the empty church holding the bridesmaid bouquet she’d found on the altar and surveyed her hard work. On the end of each pew, a miniature wreath decorated with tiny berries, cinnamon sticks and pinecones hung from red-and-green-plaid ribbon tied in bows. At the front of the church, potted red and white poinsettias created a cascading effect on the steps leading up to the altar. And the altar was decorated with fresh pine boughs and garland. Pinecones, holly, berries and the same red-and-green-plaid ribbon from the pew wreaths provided a splash of color and texture to the greenery that filled the church with a christmasy pine scent.
A satisfied feeling settled in the center of her chest. The bride and groom had wanted a Christmas wedding theme, and Samantha had done her best to give it to them. Not only here, but at the reception site, too.
She ran through her mental checklist. Almost everything was ready. Soon the church would be filled with friends and family, witnesses to Mark Slayter’s and Kelli Jefferson’s exchange of wedding vows.
A lump formed in Samantha’s throat. As a girl, she’d dreamed about having a big wedding in a church overflowing with everyone she’d ever known, walking down the aisle with her father, wearing a white gown fit for a fairy princess. But reality had been a wedding at city hall with only her future in-laws, Helen and Frank Wilson, in attendance. Samantha’s parents hadn’t given her the courtesy of an RSVP. The only white on the floral-print dress she’d normally worn to church had been the collar.
No diamond ring or bouquet of roses or exotic honeymoon, either. She touched Helen’s strand of pearls for a moment and let go of them. So she didn’t get the wedding of her dreams. She got something much better.
Samantha noticed a crooked bow on a pew wreath. She shifted the bouquet to her left hand and adjusted the ribbon until it was perfect.
“Sam?”
The name echoed in the church and she froze. No one had called her that in years. As she glanced toward the back, a man in a navy suit stepped from the vestibule. Dark-brown hair, warm chocolate eyes and a smile that made her legs feel like wilted rose stems. She tightened her grip on the bouquet. “Y-y-yes.”
“It is you,” Reed Connors said.
The closer he came, the harder it was to breathe. She clutched the end of a pew and took deep breaths until she was strong enough to face him.
His looks had matured. His nose was the same, straight except for a bump where he’d gotten hit with a snowball junior year, but his cheekbones looked chiseled, more defined. His jaw looked stronger and his lips seemed more full. He’d grown taller and filled out, too. His suit fit perfectly, accentuating his wide shoulders and perfect posture.
“Reed.” With her heart pounding in her chest, she struggled to remain calm. He’d never called, never wrote, never returned to Fernville in almost nine years. And now to walk back into her life…An odd combination of fear and resentment made its way down her spine. “What are you doing here?”
“Mark’s wedding.”
Samantha had forgotten Reed and Mark had been best friends in high school. She’d pushed that, and a million other little details from the past, to the back of her mind. Sometimes it was too painful to remember.
Reed glanced at his watch. “Look’s like we’re both early. Mark wanted me to stop by before the ceremony.”
“I’ve been here for hours. I’m doing the flowers,” she said a little too quickly. “I mean, I’m a guest, too, but I’m also the florist. I have my own flower shop here in town.”
His eyes widened, but returned to normal in an instant. Strange, he had never been this calm and collected before. He’d been so shy and adoring whenever he helped her with homework. It had made her feel feminine and cherished. A way she hadn’t felt with anyone else.
But the man standing in front of her didn’t look as though he got nervous about anything or anyone. And man was the only way to describe him.
Reed Connors had gone from brainy looking and skinny to gorgeous and a hunk. Had it taken a kiss to turn him from frog to prince? She swallowed. Hard. Not that she had any intention of falling under his spell again.
Besides she’d never cared what he looked like. She’d seen beneath his being too thin with thick glasses and a bad case of acne to the caring person underneath. At least, she’d thought he’d cared. Thought he’d loved her. But she’d been wrong. About Reed, about so many things. She stared at the bouquet in her left hand.
“You stayed in Fernville?” he asked.
“I…I…we stayed.”
She waited for him to ask about Timmy. Her son.
Their son.
But Reed didn’t.
