His Wedding. Muriel Jensen
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Название: His Wedding
Автор: Muriel Jensen
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon American Romance
isbn: 9781474020435
isbn:
“I don’t. But I heard the ladies at the beauty shop talking about him when I had my hair trimmed just before I left for L.A.”
“And?”
“And,” she said gravely, “his girlfriend is pregnant. That’s why he’s put off college for a year. Her parents are furious at both of them. His parents are angry at him. Even the girlfriend wants him to go to school. She’s insisting she’ll get a job and raise the baby and wait for him to graduate. He wants to get married and assume his responsibilities.”
Brian leaned against the other side of the register. “You ladies really discuss things in depth over hair trimmings.”
“Having your hair or your nails done inspires confidences. It’s a fact.” She looked worried. “Are you going to fire him? He needs the job.”
“I understand that. But I’d like to stay in business, and that won’t happen with customers being ignored. I’ll talk to him. Then if he doesn’t shape up, I’ll fire him.”
She nodded approval. “Very fair. Well, now that I’ve argued with you, fallen in the inlet, had coffee, made a sale for you and acted as Joe Fanelli’s union advisor, my work here is done. Can I have a plastic bag for my wet clothes?”
He reached under the counter for one and handed it to her. “I’ll close up for a few minutes and drive you home.”
“No!” She put a hand to his chest. His heartbeat reacted to her touch. She must have felt it, because she dropped her hand immediately, then cleared her throat. “I’m perfectly capable of riding the Vespa home.”
“Not a good idea after your dunking,” he said, moving her aside when she stood in his path. “And I appreciate your lending a hand when I got busy. Thank you.” He went to the door, changed the Will Be Back sign to read In Fifteen Minutes, then ushered her out ahead of him and locked the door.
“This is silly!” she argued, hurrying to keep up with him as he steered the Vespa toward his truck, then lifted it into the back.
“I…” she started to say, but he opened the passenger door and lifted her into the truck.
She growled and she pulled out the seat belt.
“As a general rule,” he said, before closing her door, “socially correct women never growl. You might bear that in mind.”
He had her home in five minutes, unloaded the Vespa and placed it for her in a corner of the garage. Behind her at a small distance, the beautiful yellow-and-white mansion that was her family’s home was perched on a knoll, with a view of the vast lawn and the apple orchard. The house had a central cupola and porches at the front and back that exemplified the cozy style at the heart of everything Abbott. Janet seemed to fit in well.
The construction going on at the west end of the house reminded Brian again of the potential for scandal in his very name. His father had almost destroyed Chloe’s addition. She’d wanted to enlarge the sun porch on the first level, add a room for Brian on the second level so that he could stay with them during holidays and other family occasions and expand the third floor so that when Sawyer and Sophie were married, there would be lots of room for her three children. Now Sawyer and Sophie were living at Sophie’s place, nearer the hospital where she was a nurse, but Chloe had visions of having the entire family together in Shepherd’s Knoll for holidays and long, lazy weekends, even though they all lived nearby.
His father had cruelly, vengefully set fire to the addition though it was obvious that both China and Chloe’s wheelchair-bound Tante Bijou were inside. The building had gone up quickly, and had it not been for China’s courage and quick thinking, and the fact that Campbell and Winfield, who handled the estate’s security, had arrived home at the right moment, both women might be dead. He shuddered at the thought.
“Thank you,” Janet said. “Can you come over tomorrow?”
He had to pull himself out of his grim thoughts. Had he really agreed to be in this wedding? “Ah…why?”
“Because Abbott’s West is sending someone from the men’s department to measure all of you for tuxes.” Abbott’s West was the retail flagship store in Manhattan.
He groaned. Yes, he had agreed. He’d done it for Janet, as much as for the family.
She widened her eyes at him teasingly. “If it’s socially incorrect for women to growl, are socially correct men allowed to groan?”
She made him smile, but it seemed wisest not to answer. He knew this was going to get worse before it got better. “What time tomorrow?”
“Ten. And you’d better go easy on Joe Fanelli. You’re going to need him a lot between now and the wedding.” She patted his shoulder. “Thanks for the cookie and the coffee.”
He sighed and smiled. “I don’t regret that. But I’m starting to wonder if fishing you out of the water was the wisest thing I could have done.”
“I guess only time will tell. See you tomorrow.”
She headed for the house. He climbed into the truck to spare himself the view of her neat little backside as she walked away.
But there it was, beautifully framed in his rearview mirror.
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