“I’m so full,” she admitted as she reached for the china gravy boat. “I hope I still fit in my clothes tomorrow.”
“Do you get a lot of customers on Black Friday?” he asked.
“Not really. It’s not a big shopping day for brides-to-be. Thanksgiving doesn’t bring out the proposals. Christmas and New Year’s are different, so in January I’m busy.”
“Are you their first stop?” he asked, putting the dry dish on the counter next to the others.
They’d already finished the wineglasses and serving dishes. She emptied the dishpan and rinsed it, then peeled off her gloves. She leaned against the sink.
“While it’s not all about the dress, it’s an easy thing to start looking for,” she told him. “Going to look at flowers or studying menus isn’t exactly the same. Trying on a dress gives the bride immediate feedback. She can see how she’s going to look on her wedding day. Tasting a small piece of cake isn’t the same as seeing the whole thing, life size.”
She smiled. “It’s fun to see them, all excited, flashing the ring. I guess it’s one of the last rites of passage and I enjoy being a part of that.”
Something he couldn’t possibly be interested in, she thought. But even as she thought about changing the subject, he moved a little closer, as if listening intently.
“What’s the best part?” he asked.
“I’m not sure what it is for them, but for me it’s when the bride knows she’s found the right dress. I can tell by the look on her face. Everything just feels right.”
Like this moment, she though hazily. If only the tall, handsome man in her kitchen would step a little closer still and maybe lean in for a—
The doorbell rang. She filed her fantasy away for another time and pointed to the back door. “This is your last chance to escape,” she teased. “Otherwise, prepare to meet some of the founding families of our town. Or at least the ones I know.”
“I don’t scare easy. Lead on.”
She walked into the living room and saw that several couples had arrived at once. The next few minutes passed in a blur of introductions. Madeline was pleased that no one was overly shocked to find Jonny Blaze in her living room. Or maybe they were like her—secretly stunned, but keeping their reaction to themselves.
She went back to the kitchen to start piling goodies onto platters. There were cookies and brownies and bars of all kinds. Shelby came in and walked to the sink where she washed her hands.
“So, how’s it going?” her friend asked.
Madeline smiled. “Fine. Did you have a nice dinner?”
“Sure. Kipling and Destiny are always fun to hang out with. And I adore Starr.”
Starr was Destiny’s half sister. The teen lived with them.
Shelby dried her hands, then started adding more cookies onto platters.
“Want to talk about it?”
Madeline widened her eyes, as if confused. “Talk about what?”
Shelby put down the brownies and settled her hands on her hips. “Jonny Blaze is standing in your living room. Last I heard, you had a serious crush on him. Serious to the point that you couldn’t even look in his direction, and now he’s here?”
Madeline grinned. “I know. It’s so strange.”
“And?”
Madeline finished filling the plate, then faced her friend. “It’s all Mayor Marsha’s fault.”
“Most things are.”
She quickly explained about the wedding and how she was now spending time with the action star.
“Are you freaked?” Shelby asked.
Madeline realized Isabel had voiced the same concern. She must have really been acting strange when Jonny was nearby. “At first, but it’s getting better. He had dinner here. That was surreal. But my parents took it in stride and I pretended that I was just as calm.”
“Has he kissed you?”
The unexpected question caused Madeline to flush. “What? No. We’re working together. Besides, I’m, you know, regular. He’s Jonny Blaze.”
“I’m sure he’s just as interested in sex as the next guy.”
“Shelby, no.” Madeline glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. “It’s not like that. He would never want that from me.”
“Then he’s an idiot. You’re great.”
Because Shelby was a loyal friend. Madeline knew that she was pretty enough for regular people, but in the sphere that was Jonny’s world? Not so much.
“It’s okay. I’m getting over my crush and enjoying what I know is very one-sided sparkage. It’s nice. My own little fantasy holiday entertainment. I’m also having fun planning the wedding. It’s different. I haven’t met Ginger yet, but we talked on the phone and she’s really nice.”
“When he comes to his senses and ravishes you, I want details,” Shelby told her. “I’m in a very arid dry spell. I will live vicariously through you.”
Madeline pretended to fan herself. “I hope I have something to share.”
They both picked up plates of treats and carried them back to the living room.
In the few minutes Madeline had been in the kitchen, more people had arrived. She saw Jonny talking to a couple of the guys from CDS—or as the locals knew it, the bodyguard school. It was interesting, watching them together. Ford and Angel were both physically powerful and good-looking, but there was something compelling about Jonny. She supposed that was a lot of the reason he was successful in movies. You wanted to watch him.
“Hey.”
Madeline turned and saw Consuelo Hendrix standing next to her. “Hi.”
“Nice party.”
Madeline nodded because she was unable to speak. She knew it was shock at how her friend was dressed, and when Consuelo noticed, there was going to be ugly punishment, but still. She couldn’t help staring.
She and Consuelo had been friends for a couple of years. Nearly since the other woman had moved to Fool’s Gold. Consuelo had worked for the government, doing things that she never talked about. Despite her petite build, she was tough and dangerous. She didn’t do emotion, she moved like a prowling leopard and her idea of relaxation was to go climb a mountain.
She taught all kinds of fighting techniques at the bodyguard school, along with mixed martial arts to people in town. Her everyday wardrobe consisted of cargo pants and boots. In the summer they were worn with a tank top or T-shirt. In the winter, a light sweatshirt.
But tonight she had on a fitted black dress. Simple, really, with a scoop neck, a straight skirt and long sleeves. With it she wore thigh-high leather boots with a serious heel. The church-appropriate dress paired with very naughty boots was pure Consuelo. When placed on her perfect, athletic body, the results were incredible. And intimidating.
“What?” Consuelo demanded, her voice challenging. “You want to say it, so say it.”
“You look beautiful.”
Consuelo’s eyebrows drew together. “Don’t make me kill you.”
Madeline held out the plate. “Sugar cookie? My mom made them.”
Consuelo took one. “Don’t think you can distract me from the compliment.”