knew all her tones and what they represented. That one was her nervous-that-everything-is-about-to-fall-apart-but-I’ll-cover-my-fear-by-sniping-at-someone-else tone. “If she chooses not to be here to oversee the guest book, then...why isn’t Chloe here?”
“I don’t know. She isn’t answering. And no one’s seen her here at the church, either.” Since Conor didn’t immediately recognize the second woman’s voice, he tilted his head to get a glimpse of pink tulle curving over a generous flare of hips. Tulle and satin gave way to pink lace clinging to some very nice breasts that rose and fell with a huffy sigh. But bangs of short brown hair with caramel highlights and a netted glittery pink feathered headpiece pinned above her ear obscured the woman’s face. “I’d like to know where my friend is, too. Do you think Isaac knows?”
“Don’t go out there and ask him,” Lisa chided. “He’s already at the altar with Joe.” All he could glimpse of her was the hem of her lacy white gown as she paced beyond his line of sight. “I don’t care if she’s leaving me in the lurch. I care about you being the first one down the aisle.”
“Relax, dear. Aunt Sandra handled the guest book just fine.” Conor smiled as a familiar face joined the woman in the pink bridesmaid dress. Lisa’s petite mother and his own mom’s best friend, Leslie Karr. “Please, sweetie. It’s time. We can’t start the ceremony without you.”
Sweetie meant one of Lisa’s sisters. And since her older sister was as tall as Lisa, that meant the frilly pink bombshell was her younger sister, Laura. Um, bombshell? Conor remembered braces and blue jeans and tennis shoes. He never would have ogled Laura the way he’d been assessing her figure a few seconds earlier, and, in fact, would have gone all big brother on any guy who did let his eyes linger on her curves for that long. She was just a kid. Well, the Laura he knew had been like a kid sister to him.
But the attitude was familiar.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Laura protested. “You told me to find Chloe, and now I’m concerned because I can’t.”
A pregnant belly draped with more pink satin and tulle moved into the picture, blocking his view of Laura and her mother. Linda Karr-Colfax moaned and rubbed at the small of her back. A similar clip of feathers dangled from her upswept hair. “Mom? Ty was playing with my hair. Is this thing still in okay?”
“I thought we checked everything before leaving the dressing room,” Lisa scolded, while her mother secured the gaudy thing in Linda’s hair. “And do not have your baby today.”
Linda chuckled at her middle sister’s worry. “Take a deep breath, Lisa. They’re Braxton Hicks contractions. I’ve had them with all three babies. And neither of the boys came early.” She muttered something slightly less reassuring when a little boy in a black tuxedo somersaulted into the picture. Linda’s attorney husband followed with a sleeping toddler on his shoulder and pulled the boy to his feet. Linda brushed the dust off the tiny tux’s shoulders. “You only have to wear this for a little while, Timmy. Just until we take the pictures after the wedding. Where is your pillow with the rings tied to it?”
“Has he lost it?” Lisa’s long dress swirled into the tableau, but again his anticipation at seeing the beauty he’d loved was thwarted by the angle of the doorway.
Laura knelt in front of her nephew to hand him the embroidered white pillow. “Not lost. Here.” The little boy chortled with delight. Now that he had a clear view of that part of the lobby, Conor saw that there was a toy truck tied to the pillow, too. “You hold tight to that, and you won’t lose that pillow again, will you.”
Appeasing the youngster in the face of all the tension happening out there made Conor smile, too. “Nice move, Squirt,” he murmured under his breath, automatically thinking of Laura by the nickname he’d given her growing up.
But her smile faded a split second before she looked down at her phone and pushed to her feet.
More than noticing that she’d snipped off her long pigtails for a short, angular cut that hugged her jawline and played up the waves in her highlighted hair, and had traded her braces for a sweet, mischievous smile, he registered the frown lines that deepened beside her green-gold eyes. Baby Sister was really worried about something.
She texted something in response to the message she’d received.
“Laura! Phone!” Lisa pleaded.
“Sorry.” Laura turned it off and slid it beneath the lace of her gown to tuck it inside the sweetheart neckline.
“Seriously? You’ll ruin the look of the dress with that thing sticking out of your cleavage.”
“Like I don’t look like a piece of cotton candy, anyway.”
“Mother!”
Leslie Karr had handled bigger spats than this with her patient tone and knowing smile. “Laura, sweetie, let me put your phone in my purse.” With another lift of her bare shoulders, Laura did as her mother asked. After tucking the phone into her clutch purse, Leslie cupped her youngest daughter’s cheek. “You look beautiful today.”
Then Leslie turned, gently touching Linda’s belly as she smiled up at her oldest daughter. “You look beautiful.”
When she reached for Lisa, stepping out of Conor’s line of sight to hug her middle daughter, his breath hitched with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety at the thought of glimpsing Lisa again. But unless he leaned out into the aisle, making his presence more than obvious, he’d have to wait like every other guest to put eyes on the bride.
“Sweetie, you look beautiful. Joe is the luckiest of men. Take a deep breath.” Conor had always admired how Leslie had kept her three daughters in line. Such different personalities. Different activities all through school. Different emotional and parental needs. A little diplomacy, a little bargaining, a little bit of cajoling. But then she barked an order, and all three women snapped to attention, falling into line behind the young ring bearer. “Now. Everyone smile. Ron? Take your place. Here we go.”
Conor turned away from the scene in the lobby and finally found a reason to chuckle. Leslie Karr had a little bit of five-star general in her, too. He recognized that tone from his own mother’s bag of tricks when it came to raising him. His mom and Leslie had been such close friends—they’d probably traded parenting secrets.
Leslie walked down the aisle on the arm of an usher, followed by Tim Colfax and his son, the ring-bearer making vroom-vroom sounds as he carried the pillow by the truck.
Then he saw Laura. The moment she stepped into the sanctuary, their eyes met. Her mouth rounded with a startled O of surprise and he winked. The blush on her cheeks deepened to a rosy hue and her megawatt smile lit up the church. Yeah. The tomboy of the family had sure grown up. She made cute work on her compact, curvy frame. She fluttered her fingers in a friendly wave before hurrying over.
“Hi.” Those same fingers curled around his neck and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Hey, Squirt.”
Just as quickly as she’d kissed his cheek, she stepped away and fell back into line. She made a face and tapped her cheek, indicating he check his own face, before heading slowly toward the altar again.
Conor dutifully pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at the mark she’d left, leaving a smear of rosy pink lipstick on the white cotton. He was glad someone here
