The Bridesmaid (6 page)

He silently admired her features, right up to the moment her head slid down on his shoulder and she began to snore.

Lisa took the news about Kate’s delay with a lot of whining, wailing, and “How am I going to
do
this without you?”

Kate talked her neurotic cousin off the ledge. She made her understand that she was only missing a dinner, not a major event. It was one meal. Not a huge loss—besides the dress, it was not even a small loss. Lisa said she understood. She even seemed to agree with Kate.

But not fifteen minutes after Kate had hung up, her mother called.

“When are you going to be here?” her mother demanded with a slightly accusatory tone.

“Mom, seriously. I am on a
train
to Phoenix. A train! I started on a plane, then a car, and now I am on a TRAIN. I am doing the best I can.”

“Well, I didn’t say you weren’t,” her mother sniffed. “It just seems like you could have rented a car or something.”

“Mom, do you know where Texas is? It is very far away from Seattle. You can’t drive from Texas to Washington in a blizzard!”

She must have been speaking with agitation, because Joe put his broad hand on her knee and squeezed reassuringly.

“Oh, I know,” her mother said wearily. “I was just hoping. We’ll all be sick if you miss the wedding, and Lisa doesn’t need any distractions. I’ve always said that girl is too high strung for her own good.”

“I won’t miss the wedding,” Kate said firmly. “We are almost to Phoenix, and we hear they are bringing scabs in.”

“Bringing
what
?”

“Scabs.”

“Strikebreakers,” Joe offered. He had removed his coat again and loosened his collar. His hair, thick and dark brown, looked as if he’d dragged his fingers through it a dozen times. And he had a very sexy shadow of a beard that Kate had to tell herself not to stare at.

“Who is that?” her mother demanded, jarring Kate back to the present.

“Ah… Joe.”

“Joe! Who’s Joe?”

“He was on my flight. We’re both trying to get to Seattle.”

“Oh. You should invite him to the wedding,” her mother said cheerfully, as if Kate and Joe were sitting in a café sipping mimosas. She’d never heard of Joe until this moment and was inviting him to a major family event. Her family was crazy.

“Oh my god,” her mother said suddenly. “Here comes your aunt. I wonder what the crisis is
now,
” she muttered irritably. “You’d think Lisa was the first woman to ever get married. Katie, sweetheart, keep us posted. We’ll hold the wedding for you if necessary!”

“Mom, you can’t hold the wedding,” Kate said, but her mother had already signed off.

Kate clicked off, made a sound of severe frustration, and Joe laughed.

“Your family sounds as crazy as mine.”

“I think I’ve got you beat,” Kate said. “Where is your family, anyway?”

“Scattered,” he said. “My brother is in Paris—”

“Paris!”

“Married to a Frenchwoman. My dad and sister are in Connecticut and my mom in Illinois. Yours?”

“All in Seattle,” Kate said. “My aunt and uncle—Lisa’s parents—live right around the corner. It’s like some weird religious-sect compound, everyone always back and forth.” Joe laughed, but he had no idea how tied up in each other’s business they all were.

“So while you were assuring your mother you’re not just playing hooky, I was digging for news. It looks as if the major airports, like Phoenix, will have enough controllers to get a few flights off the ground.”

Kate gasped. “Really? You mean we might really get to Seattle?”

“If we can book a flight,” he said. “I’m going to make a call. I’ve got a kick-ass travel agent.”

He punched in the number and then said, “Hey, Brenda. It’s Joe.” And he smiled. It was a very easy, very sexy smile, and Kate imagined it could melt the false eyelashes off a woman. “Remember that trip we booked to Seattle? Well, I’ve run into a little trouble…”

Fifteen minutes later, Kate sat with her arms folded tightly across her, mildly annoyed at the number of times Joe chuckled. If he was going to book a flight, she didn’t see why he didn’t just
book
it instead of chatting on and on with Brenda, whoever she was, who was probably old enough to be his mother.

“Okay, we’ll book Kate onto that flight,” he said. “Hold on.” He covered his phone. “What’s your last name, anyway?”

“Preston.”

“Preston,” he said into the phone. “Just put it on my account. And yeah, I’ll take the next one.”

“What next one? You’re not flying with me?” Kate asked.

Joe grabbed her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers, holding it against his rock-hard thigh. “Great. Thanks, Brenda. I owe you those Maroon 5 tickets.”

Rats. Maroon 5 was not a grandma band.

Joe clicked off and beamed at Kate, squeezing her hand. “You’re booked on the last seat of that flight tonight, Kate Preston.”

She gasped. “Are you kidding?”

“Would I kid about something like that? Yes, for real.”

“What about you?”

“I’m going tomorrow. But I don’t have to be there until Monday. You needed to be there yesterday.”

He was smiling. He was happy to have arranged it. Kate made herself smile. “Thank you. I owe you. Again.”

“Not to worry,” he said. He looked at her strangely. “What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy.”

“I
am
,” she said, nodding adamantly. “I just…”
Really
like
you. Sorta don’t want this to end. Want to write a sitcom about two people who meet on
a plane…

Kate looked away from his silvery blue eyes. “You know what? I don’t think that tuna-fish sandwich was a good idea.”

He laughed. “It was a
horrible
idea. I’m going to book a hotel room. After that, I’ll take you on in Words with Friends if you’re up to it.”

Kate jerked her gaze to him. “Oh, I’m up to it,” she said, digging out her phone. “I am
so
up to it.”

***

The hours, she was sad to note, flew by as they played Words with Friends until Joe lost juice in his phone. By that time, they were nearing the Phoenix station, slightly ahead of schedule. Joe had taken care of everything, including transport to the airport, and refused all of her efforts to repay him.

They arrived at the airport in a transport van—Joe, Kate, their bags, and a crumpled pink garment bag. Kate didn’t have the heart to look at the bridesmaid dress now. She could see that one side of it wasn’t as poufy as it had been starting out and shuddered to think what else had happened in there.

Joe got out with her, helped her with her bags. “So,” he said, shoving his hands through his hair. “I guess this is it.”

“I guess so,” Kate said. She tried to smile. “I don’t know your last name,” she said.

“Firretti,” he said.

“Firretti,” she repeated, savoring the name a moment. “It sounds so…”

“Intelligent?” he offered.

Kate laughed. “I was going to say sporty.”

Joe smiled.

“So… you’re moving to Seattle.”

“I am. And you’re staying in New York.”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

Joe touched her cheek with his knuckle. “I have to say, although you suck at navigating, I can’t imagine a better partner in this little jaunt across the country.”

That made Kate feel warm and tingly all over. “And I should say that although you’re a terrible armrest hog, I’m really glad you ended up next to me.”

Joe stroked her cheek, touched her earlobe, then reluctantly dropped his hand. “Take care, Kate. Call me if you need anything.”

“Okay… but your phone is dead.”

“Right. I’m going to charge it at the airport Hilton,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “In about thirty minutes, it will be good to go. So, call me if something comes up.”

“Okay,” she said weakly. “You should call me, too. I can give you some tips about Seattle if you need them.”

“I’ll do that,” he promised.

There was nothing left to say. Kate smiled ruefully.

Joe sighed, took her elbow in hand, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Take care, Kate. But go now, or you’ll miss your flight.” He picked up her bag and put it on her shoulder.

“Thanks,” she said. “Seriously, Joe Firretti, thanks for everything.” She picked up the garment bag, pulled the stem of her suitcase. “Bye.”

“Good-bye, Kate.”

Kate started walking, moving through the glass doors into cool, slightly fetid air. When the doors closed behind her, she glanced back.

Joe was still standing there, watching her. He lifted his hand.

So did Kate. She smiled again, then turned away, walking on, feeling exhausted, a little queasy, and indescribably sad.

The airport hotel was a little dingy, the room furnishings a little worn, but the only thing Joe cared about was that it had a shower and a bed. After he’d washed the last thirty-six hours from his body, he pulled on some lounge pants and ordered a burger, fries, and a beer, and settled in to catch up on sports.

But his gaze kept shifting to the window, from which he would see the occasional planes the scabs managed to send out over the red mountains of Phoenix.

Joe was not particularly proud of it, but a few years ago, he had been a real dog when it came to women. That was how he’d met Brenda the Travel Agent. She was nice, but turned out to be a little vanilla for his tastes.

Fortunately, their short dating history had ended well, and the girl could work some travel magic. He knew because part of his job had been to travel, and Brenda had always managed to get him home without much trouble. Uprisings, tsunamis, volcano ash, and terrorist threats were no match for her.

Joe was glad she’d gotten Kate into the last seat on the last flight out to Seattle. Glad in a non-doglike, adult way of doing something nice for someone for a change. So why was he hoping Kate hadn’t made that plane? And what sort of dumbass was he for not asking to see her in Seattle? He’d thought about it—of course he had—but that thought had been followed by a bunch of other thoughts crowding in and stifling it, like
Why
, and
What’s the point
, and
Get
a
grip, it’s just a girl.

Yeah. A girl. A really cool, really good-looking girl. A girl who had somehow managed to make him sit up and take notice like he hadn’t done in a very long time.

Smooth, Firretti.

The sun was beginning to set, and Joe couldn’t see the planes anymore. Kate had obviously made it—her flight would have departed a half hour ago, and she hadn’t called. He closed his eyes and listened to the ESPN guy talk about the Phoenix Suns’ chances this season.

A knock on the door brought him off the bed. “Thank God,” he said. His stomach was growling. He walked to the door and opened it, then stumbled back a step with surprise.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Kate said apologetically from just behind the pink raft.

“No,” Joe said quickly. “You missed your flight?”

“Ah… rescheduled. First thing tomorrow.” Kate winced and put a hand to her belly. “I wasn’t feeling too well. Tuna fish, I think.”

His grin was slow but broad. “That was some rank tuna fish,” he agreed. “You’d better come in.”

She smiled and pushed the pink raft at him. “Thanks!”

He wrestled the garment bag into the rack behind him, and when he turned back, Kate held up a six-pack of beer. “I thought beer would help my tummy,” she said. “And you seem like a beer guy.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said, grabbing her bags and pulling them in. “Where did you get that, anyway?”

“From the same guy who told me what room you’re in,” she said. “I have my ways.”

“Don’t tell me. I might be jealous.” He grinned at her and stepped back to allow her entry. “By the way, just what does a beer guy look like?” he asked as she slipped past him.

Kate paused. Her gaze dropped to his bare chest, to his lounge pants, and slowly rose again. “Like
that
,” she said. Her voice had changed. “Just like that,” she added quietly.

Joe could feel the draw between them, the unmistakable chemistry kicking up and swirling about them into a lethal mix of desire and admiration. It felt as if everything Joe had ever wanted in a woman was standing right in front of him—with too many clothes on, but still—and he was vaguely amazed he’d ever let her walk into that airport without him. He wanted to say all those things, but he felt strangely tongue-tied. He could only reach for her, and at the same moment, she leaped at him.

Joe crushed her to him, his mouth on her lips, as soft and lush as he’d imagined them to be. Kate grabbed his head between her hands and teased him with her tongue, plunging him into a familiar fog of arousal and desire. But this was different than the usual. This felt deeper and somehow more important.

He whirled her around and pushed her up against the door. Her warm, wet mouth was as tormenting to him as it was pleasurable. Her body curved into his, rattling him in every bone, in every nerve. He thrust his hands into her hair, moved his mouth to her neck.

He’d never felt anything as strongly as he was feeling the need to be with Kate—beside her, around her, in her. He caressed her sides, her torso, her breasts, and Kate made a little groaning sigh into his mouth that sent him careening down a slope of yearning.

He whirled her around again, crashing into the rack that passed as a closet.

“Not the dress!” she whispered frantically against his cheek, and Joe whirled again, bumping into the mirror tacked to the wall. The thing came off and crashed behind Kate.

Joe suddenly threw his arms around her waist and lifted her up off her feet, falling onto the bed with her. He dipped down to the hollow of her throat, to the vee in her shirt, tasting her skin, feeling the faint beat of her heart, racing in time with his.

A pounding at the door made them both freeze. Kate stared wide-eyed at him.

“Burger,” he muttered to her deliciously creamy breasts.

Kate gasped. “
Burger
,” she repeated lustfully, and abruptly pushed him off her. She jumped up, buttoning her blouse as she hurried to the door. Joe groaned and fell face forward onto the bed. He heard her thanking whoever had brought it, assuring that person she had the tray under control. The door shut, and a moment later, Kate reappeared with the room service tray, her hair charmingly messed, her blouse only crookedly rebuttoned, and a french fry sticking out of the side of her mouth. She slid the tray onto the desk.

Joe grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back down onto the bed. “But I’m
starving
,” Kate laughingly implored him.

“So am I,” he growled, and began to kiss her neck as he unbuttoned her blouse again.

She sighed softly. Her hands were moving on him again, sweeping over his arms and hips. She dropped her head back with a gasp of pleasure as Joe sought more of her bare skin with his mouth. He felt like he had a rattlesnake under his skin, his body one mess of quivering, jangled nerves.

Kate pressed against the hard ridge of his erection and inhaled a ragged, ravenous breath. White-hot shivers of anticipation ran up Joe’s spine. He rolled over, pulling her to straddle his lap. Kate cupped his face. Her gaze moved over his eyes, his nose, and his mouth. “Joe Firretti,” she said softly, “where the hell did you come from?”

“I was wondering the same thing about you,” he said, and pushed a golden lock back from her face. He kissed her softly, slid his hands to her shoulders, then her rib cage, and down, to her hips. He dipped a hand beneath the hem of her skirt and slid it up her thigh.

Kate’s sigh was long and sweet. It reminded Joe of contentment, the sort of sound one might make when returning home, to the place they were meant to be. Her arms encircled his neck, and she kissed him back, slowly now, savoring it.

Joe found the zipper in her skirt and pulled it down, and somehow, between the two of them, she shimmied out of it. Her blouse had come completely undone, and underneath it she wore a lacy red bra that made his blood boil. He rolled again, putting Kate on her back, and moved his hand higher, touching the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

When his fingers brushed the apex of her legs, Kate reached for his lounge pants, her fingers finding the tie and undoing it, then pushing them down his hips, wrapping her fingers around him. Joe stroked her and Kate moved against his hand. She made a small cry of pleasure and Joe couldn’t tolerate it another moment. He slid into her.

He began to move inside her, teetering on the edge of his own powerful climax, moving faster as Kate moved with him, her breath coming quicker and harder. Her fingers curled into his arms, and she suddenly lifted up, gasping with the sensation of her climax.

Joe couldn’t contain himself; he flew apart and rained down in tiny bits of himself onto that bed.

Moments passed—blissful, satiated moments—before Kate cupped his face and smiled.

He smiled, too, could feel the satisfaction of that smile reaching deep into him. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her cheek, her hair, and her mouth once more before settling down with her tucked into his side. He could feel her lips curve into a smile against his chest, her fingers tracing a long and lazy line down his side.

“I am so glad you missed your flight,” he said, still a little breathless.

“Me too,” she agreed and giggled.