None of which was Madeline’s problem, he thought, looking at her.
She was pretty enough. Her makeup was light and he would guess none of her features had been altered by the careful skill of a plastic surgeon. She was dressed in a simple black dress. The style was plain and didn’t really suit her. No doubt she picked her clothes to blend in, rather than stand out. In her line of work, the bride would be the star.
“Just to confirm,” he said, picking up his latte, “you’ve never planned a wedding. You’re open to having me hire someone else, but if I need your help, you’ll be there.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then. Ginger and I don’t have any family, but her fiancé does. He’ll have ten or twelve relatives attending. The rest of the guests will be Ginger’s and Oliver’s friends. As of my last conversation with my sister, we’re at forty-four guests.”
Madeline picked up her pen, then put it down. “Is this conversation or information?”
He thought about his sister. She was sweet and funny and, by far, the smartest person he knew. She wanted a small, quiet celebration. Simple. Ordinary. She would hate anything big or flashy. A wedding planner from LA would want to design an extravaganza. Something that could make her career. Jonny wanted Ginger to be happy. Nothing else.
Madeline Krug, wedding-gown store manager of Fool’s Gold, California, would understand what Ginger wanted. And she had no portfolio to build at Ginger’s expense.
“Information,” he said firmly. “I want you to help me with my sister’s wedding.”
* * *
Madeline resisted the need to ask the obvious question. Why would anyone want her to plan a wedding? Although it was possible the answer would be clear to someone who wasn’t suffering from being so incredibly close to Jonny Blaze.
She was pleased that she was able to breathe. And her heart seemed to be working fine. Maybe it was because the moment was so surreal. Here she was in the town where she’d grown up, sitting across from Jonny Blaze.
Up close he was just as handsome as he was on-screen. His eyes were a beautiful shade of deep green and his hair was glossy and dark. She wondered if that was his natural color, because it had been light brown, blond and red for various roles.
He was broad-shouldered, with muscles. Thin, but not skinny. When he spoke, he sounded incredibly normal. She simply couldn’t reconcile what was happening, although she was going to try to go with it. The alternative was to run screaming into the street and that didn’t look attractive on anyone.
“What are you thinking?” he asked unexpectedly.
Madeline blinked. No way she could answer that question. Not directly at least.
“That you’re a regular person.”
He flashed her another smile. “Thanks for noticing. Some people don’t.”
“How strange. To go through life with people thinking they know you when they don’t,” she said without thinking. “It must be both good and bad.”
“It is.” He sipped his latte. “We should talk about your fee.”
Madeline felt her eyes widen. “What? Fee? No. You’re not paying me. This isn’t a job. Mayor Marsha asked me to help out and I’m happy to.”
He put down the drink and leaned toward her. He was so close she could see all the colors of green and gold in his irises. It was mesmerizing. As was he.
“You can’t do this for nothing,” he told her.
“Why not?”
She tried to control her breathing so she wouldn’t start hyperventilating. The man was impossibly handsome. The line of his jaw, the shape of his mouth. She could sit here and shiver and stare all day long.
“You’re doing a job.”
“I’m helping out a fellow citizen. There’s a difference.” She drew in a slow breath. “I’m not doing this because you’re Jonny Blaze. I’m doing this because you live here.” She shrugged. “The store is quiet this time of year and I’m looking forward to seeing a wedding through from start to finish. Normally all I get to deal with is the wedding gown.”
He didn’t look convinced, but that didn’t matter. There was no way he was going to pay her. That was just icky.
“Tell you what,” she said with a grin. “You figure out what you think is a fair amount to pay me and then you can donate that amount to HERO—our local search and rescue program.”
He studied her as if she weren’t anything he’d encountered before. “You’re a little strange.”
“Just like the town?”
“Yes, and equally unexpected.” He nodded slowly. “All right, Madeline. I accept your offer to help and I will make a generous contribution to your favorite charity.”
“Deal. Now I should probably talk to your sister to get her thoughts about what we’re doing.”
“Good idea.”
He gave her Ginger’s email address and cell number.
“Set up a time to talk. If she’s not in the lab, she’s studying or working on her dissertation.”
“Okay. I’ll email her as soon as I get back to the office. Once she and I have spoken, I’ll have a more clear idea of what she wants. Then I’ll put some ideas together and you and I can talk about them.”
“Great. I appreciate you helping me. I want Ginger to have the wedding of her dreams.”
“Then we’ll make that happen.”
They both rose. She held out her hand to shake, realizing a half second too late that it might be a mistake. He took her hand in his and they shook. People did it thousands of times a day. Maybe millions.
But she’d never done it with Jonny Blaze, so was unprepared for the hot, melty sparks that erupted all over her body. Or the way her chest got tight and her thighs tingled.
Lightning, she thought with amazement. The lightning her mother had always told her about. The lightning that meant the women in her family had found the one.
No, she told herself firmly as she pulled back her hand. Not lightning. Star power. There was a very big difference and she would do well to remember that.
JONNY PARKED HIS SUV near the lake and walked the rest of the way into town for his meeting with Madeline. He found that when he was in Fool’s Gold, he liked being out and walking around with everyone. The air was cool—they’d already had the first snowfall of the season. People were bundled up with scarves and jackets, but the extra layers and chill didn’t keep them from greeting each other.
He’d been smiled at and wished a good day more times than he could count. It was nice. Regular. At least out here. In LA everyone would be driving, even if they only had to go three blocks, and in New York, each person was in his or her own personal bubble. He didn’t have to worry about paparazzi. They’d shown up for about two days after he’d moved here. But once they’d realized there was nothing to report, they’d left him alone. Which was exactly how he liked it.
He’d spoken to his sister that morning. She’d had a good conversation with Madeline and was