Always the Designer, Never the Bride (31 page)

She's exquisite,
he thought as he watched her for a moment before he dragged his attention back to the road ahead.

Her eyes were still closed when he pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. "Nooo," she cried softly without opening them. "It's not over yet."

"Just for now," he promised, looking at her reflection as she opened those gorgeous russet eyes.

She caught sight of him right off, and she grinned into the mirror. "Thank you," she said, and she nuzzled her chin against his shoulder.

He couldn't break the connection by looking away. The two of them just sat there—he didn't know for how long—their eyes locked together through the reflection of the side mirror. He could feel her heart pounding against his back. He wondered if she had any clear idea how gorgeous she looked just then. Never mind the blazing sunset in the sky behind her. It was Audrey who took his breath away; Audrey who caused his pulse to pound.

"Are you ready for barbecued chicken?" he asked her, and she closed her eyes.

"No. Are you?"

"No."

"But we're going in anyway, aren't we?" she asked, her nose wrinkled up.

"That we are."

She planted a quick kiss to the side of his neck before clumsily climbing down. "Thank you again," she said, and she extended her hand toward him.

J. R. stepped over the bike and accepted her hand. Their fingers entwined like they belonged there, and the two of them strolled up the sidewalk as if they had nowhere specific to go.

At the front door, Audrey turned toward him and smiled. She stood so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath.

"I'm really happy that you came back."

"I am too."

"You're a good guy, J. R."

"I like to think so."

"Oh, you are. There's no question. You're a very good guy."

"You're quite pleasant also," he offered with a smile.

"I . . . kinda want to kiss you now."

"Do you?"

"Really a lot."

"Then I think you should."

Audrey inched toward him, and J. R. wondered if she had planned the tease or whether perhaps she might just be shy about it. Before he could decide, her lips pressed softly against his in a sweet and tender kiss.

"Dev," came the whisper from the other side of the door. "Come and see. They're making out."

Audrey pulled back slightly and raked her fingers through her hair. "We can hear you, Caroline."

"Oooh!" The skitter of shuffling feet faded as Carly called back to them from the general direction of her kitchen, "Sorry!"

Audrey shook her head. "This can't go well for us, you know."

"Ha! I'm inclined to agree."

With a giggle, her amber eyes flashed. "Sorry to drag you into harm's way."

"No apologies necessary," he replied, and he pulled her into a final kiss.

They walked into the kitchen, straight-faced and ignoring Devon and Carly's animated curiosity.

"So . . ." Devon began, but Audrey raised her hand and cut him off at first syllable.

"J. R. has not proposed, and neither have I. We're just two people who went for a motorcycle ride on a great Georgia night. We exchanged a kiss, and now we're here at your table hoping to have a pleasant dinner. Period. New paragraph. Capisce?"

Devon and Carly exchanged glances.

"Or," she continued, "we can leave you to your barbecued chicken, and we can bounce out of here and stop for a burger somewhere. Your choice."

J. R. worked hard to disguise his amusement. In lieu of failure, he simply lowered his head and brushed some imaginary dust from the thigh of his jeans.

"Fine." Carly was first to surrender, and she curled up her face like she'd just taken a bite out of an old lemon. "We'll never speak of it again."

"Excellent!" Audrey rewarded her. "Let's eat."

"I'm in awe," J. R. remarked.

"It's all in the wrist," she stated as she unfolded a napkin into her lap.

Conversation cruised around the odd jobs Devon hoped to tackle before leaving, took a left at Russell's visit that day where he brought three pints of fresh strawberries from a produce stand he'd apparently visited near the site of his new Atlanta home—both of which J. R. had a rough time picturing—and meandered around to an all-girls' slumber party that Carly had evidently missed.

"I was still stuck on the picture of Russell Walker buying produce at a roadside stand," J. R. told them. "But now you have me at slumber party. I think I speak for my brother as well here. We want details."

"Down, boy," Carly teased. "They have them over at Sherilyn's."

"Why didn't you go, sweetie?" Devon asked.

"Because I only have you home for a limited time. I'm not going anywhere or doing anything that I don't go or do with you."

Devon reached across the table and caressed her hand.

"They have them every month," Audrey chimed in. "You can go next time."

"Oh, I don't think I'll be invited again. I think it's just for that little circle of girls."

"You're part of the family now," J. R. told her. "I'm sure they'll ask you next time."

"Well, how was it?" Carly asked as she spooned a second helping of red potatoes to Devon's plate.

"Quite fun, actually. Kat and I had a ball."

"Really? What did you do?"

"Yes, Audrey," Devon teased. "Tell us all about it."

"Well," she said with a grin. "We had facials. Mine was mint julep, for refreshment."

"La-dee-dah!" he commented.

"And Sherilyn put on some music, and we all got up and danced around."

"Seger?" J. R. asked.

"To start, yes. Then the Beatles, some Van Morrison, a little Sam Cooke."

"Eclectic," Devon cracked, shooting J. R. a smirk.

"I love Sam Cooke," J. R. replied.

"And we watched some old
I Love Lucy
shows, ordered pizza, baked some cookies, and had some general girl talk. It was fun."

"Who's Sam Cooke?" Carly asked them.

J. R. sang the chorus of "Bring It On Home to Me," and Devon followed it with a chunk of "Twistin' the Night Away."

" 'You Send Me,' " Audrey said, leaning back into her chair with a sigh, and she and Devon began to sing the song.

"I know that one!" Carly exclaimed, and she joined in.

A moment later, Devon hopped to his feet and led his wife to her feet as well. The two of them danced across the kitchen floor while all four of them belted out the song. It surprised J. R. that he knew all the words. It surprised him even more that the sing-along in his brother's kitchen had lifted his mood in such a profound way. He hadn't felt so lighthearted in . . . he wasn't sure how long.

And the shiny smile Audrey tossed at him from across the table? Well, that certainly didn't hurt either.

"If this was a Nora Ephron movie," Kat said as they stood back to admire Audrey's work, "the last ten days would have been the music montage."

Audrey chuckled.

"While the love song plays, moviegoers see quick shots of you on the back of J. R.'s bike, me furniture shopping with Russell for his new house . . ."

"With flashes of Lisette's wedding gown coming together, and your jewelry design making it to the final version."

Kat cautiously removed the brooch from the velvet bag that protected it, placing it in her palm and running a finger gently around the bouquet of heart flowers.

"I'm so glad she picked that one," Audrey told her. "It's my favorite."

Kat held it up to the gown before them, and Audrey placed the ruffled strap over the shoulder of Mac, her headless dress form.

"It's going to be stunning."

"Thank you so much, Audrey. It's my first official sale."

"Well, you would have sold something much sooner if you'd actually shown them to anyone but your friend Staci."

"Do you really think I stand a chance? Making it as a jewelry designer, I mean."

Audrey sighed as she removed the ruffle trim and coiled it around her hand. "I would love to think I could keep you as my assistant forever, Kat. I can't imagine doing all of this without you. But you do have a gift. You have to do something with it."

"Wait!" LaMont exclaimed from the doorway. "Let me see it again."

Audrey unrolled the ruffle over the shoulder of the form, took the rhinestone bouquet from Kat, and held it to the spot where the asymmetric strap met the dress.

"What do you think?"

"Love the lines," he commented. "Good silhouette. I'd like to see it on the bride-to-be."

If he thought she would bring Lisette there during working hours and subject her to—

"Have you had a fitting yet?"

"Not yet."

"When?"

"Soon."

LaMont grazed her with his eyes. "Here?" he asked.

"Not sure yet. It really depends on my bride."

Okay. A tiny fib. But for a good cause.

"Well, it's lovely. You've surprised me. And that's not an easy thing to do."

Audrey grinned. "Then my work here is done."

"And the bling? Is that original as well?"

Audrey extended her palm toward him for a closer look. "It's Kat's design."

He darted his focus to Kat. "Really."

"It's spectacular, isn't it?"

"And you have her answering your phone and holding your straight pins and fabric samples?"

"Only for the moment," Audrey confessed. "Until she realizes she's the next big thing."

"Perhaps you're both the next big thing," he surmised, and Audrey's heart began to race at the thought. "Before you're finished here and pack up to leave us, I think we need to have a conversation, the two of us."

"Oh?"

Hold it together. Hold it together.

"I've given some thought lately to branching out. I would like to get your take on that."

Audrey tipped her head casually, despite the fact that there was nothing
casual
about the way she felt just then.

"Something to think about," he added. "We'll talk in a day or two."

Audrey strolled to the door and closed it behind him. Given that the office was made of glass, she couldn't leap into the air and scream the way she wanted. Instead, she meandered back toward the desk, grabbing Kat's hand on the way, squeezing and shaking it as Kat whimpered with excitement.

"Audrey!" she whispered, leaning across the desk as Audrey sat down behind it. "This could be
IT
for you!"

"He didn't make any offers," she reminded Kat. "He just said he wants my take."

"I know, but he's going to. Can't you tell he's going to?"

Audrey growled with enthusiasm. "It did sound that way, didn't it? It's not the same as having my own design firm, but House of LaMont is a great name to be associated with, Kat."

"It's a done deal," she beamed. "I could just tell. He looked at Lisette's gown, and he realized how talented you really are. You could almost hear him say it! 'How can I cash in on this?'"

"Okay, let's focus," Audrey said, as much to herself as to Kat. "You call Lisette and ask her to come over here tomorrow morning."

"You want her to come here? What if she runs into him?"

"I don't want to take a chance on transporting the dress back and forth if we don't have to. Bring her in early. We'll get her in and out of here before Wes ever arrives."

"Eight?"

"Good. Meanwhile, what are you and Russell doing tonight?"

"I don't know. Nothing so far."

"I'll call J. R. Let's have dinner together, the four of us."

"Ooh, fun."

"I'll ask him to get in touch with Russell, and we'll all meet at Morelli's around seven. I feel like celebrating."

Kat hurried around the desk and squeezed Audrey's shoulders. "I'm so happy for you, Audrey!"

"Let's wait and see what he offers." Her caution melted into a broad, giddy grin. "But I'm sort of happy for me too."

"Aud, I thought you couldn't stand Weston LaMont."

"Well, he's certainly not one of my favorite people," she said, twirling several long strands of pasta around her fork. "But he's a brilliant designer. And all things considered, it might not be a terrible idea to align myself with his house."