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Authors: Moira McTark
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something she'd never forget. But he knew he couldn't.
"Laine, you take my breath away.” He stepped into the elevator, stripped off his blazer, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “But I've got to talk to you about something first."
The wanton look disappeared, and she transformed into the controlled creature he so often saw handling nuptial emergencies. “What?” she asked, braced for anything.
God, he didn't want to tell her. Pulling the lapels of his jacket closed across her chest with one hand, he rested the other against her arm.
"It's the groom."
"What? He's nervous, he's missing, he's got cold feet ... I can handle anything short of him being dead. Oh my God, he isn't dead?"
"No, nothing like that—"
"Okay then,” she said with a faltering smile. “He's getting married today, I'll make it work. There isn't another woman, I know—"
"He's gay."
Laine's eyes closed for a long moment, and the breath leaked out of her in a slow hiss. “Are you sure?"
"After you left, I had one of our guys keep an eye on him. I ... I was trying to help. My guy followed him into the ballroom and found him making out with one of the groomsmen. Apparently they were rather passionate. He left discreetly, figuring there was no stopping something that had already started."
"So no one knows?"
Jason stared at her. “Not yet. You're the first. It's up to you how we break it to the girl. I'll do it, if you'd rather not have her associate the news with Blissful Brides—"
"No.” She sighed heavily, her eyes focused on some distant point in space as she stepped into her dress. “I'll be the one to tell her. But I've got to tell Connie first. I'm sure she'll have some kind of damage control in mind."
"I'm sure.” It was physically painful to watch Laine dress without touching her the way he'd spent the whole of last night thinking about. Especially after the greeting he'd gotten in the elevator.
Pulling the straps of her dress up, Laine turned around, shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “A little help?"
"Of course.” Jason placed his hands low on her spine and pulled the zipper up, closing off the smooth skin on her gorgeous back. He twisted her sleek fall of hair aside and clasped the dress closed. The smell of her hit him like an anvil. She was fresh, clean with a hint of something citrus and herbal.
Not sure he'd be able to control himself this close to her, he stepped back two paces and jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit pants.
Laine sank into the deep cushions of his couch and stared at her phone. She looked so small, her knees pressed together, ankles apart. Finally she punched in the numbers to contact her boss and, resting her forehead against one hand, effectually shielded her face from his scrutiny.
"I'll give you a bit of privacy.” He moved off toward the kitchen and fiddled with the coffee maker. He poured the water in, and then dumped several scoops of grounds into the filter. Strong stuff, the way she liked it. Sugar, no cream.
Stepping over to the breakfast bar for a couple of thick mugs, he stole a peek into the other room. Laine's face looked strained, her hand open wide as if frozen mid-gesture.
"Connie, I get that ... no, she doesn't know...” Her eyes flashed up at Jason, then quickly away. Rising off the couch, she hunched forward and walked back toward the elevator.
Jason's hands gripped the counter. He should have given her more privacy, but ... The look of guilt he'd seen on Laine's face was twisting his stomach in knots. He should have known Connie wouldn't want to tell the bride about the groom's secret. She'd be more worried about another last minute failure than the actual happiness and success of two real people.
A woman was about to walk down the aisle and vow to love and cherish this one man for the rest of her life—a man who spent the night before in the arms of another man. It wasn't fair.
Connie didn't have much of a heart in that bony little chest of hers, but
"Laine, you take my breath away.” He stepped into the elevator, stripped off his blazer, and wrapped it around her shoulders. “But I've got to talk to you about something first."
The wanton look disappeared, and she transformed into the controlled creature he so often saw handling nuptial emergencies. “What?” she asked, braced for anything.
God, he didn't want to tell her. Pulling the lapels of his jacket closed across her chest with one hand, he rested the other against her arm.
"It's the groom."
"What? He's nervous, he's missing, he's got cold feet ... I can handle anything short of him being dead. Oh my God, he isn't dead?"
"No, nothing like that—"
"Okay then,” she said with a faltering smile. “He's getting married today, I'll make it work. There isn't another woman, I know—"
"He's gay."
Laine's eyes closed for a long moment, and the breath leaked out of her in a slow hiss. “Are you sure?"
"After you left, I had one of our guys keep an eye on him. I ... I was trying to help. My guy followed him into the ballroom and found him making out with one of the groomsmen. Apparently they were rather passionate. He left discreetly, figuring there was no stopping something that had already started."
"So no one knows?"
Jason stared at her. “Not yet. You're the first. It's up to you how we break it to the girl. I'll do it, if you'd rather not have her associate the news with Blissful Brides—"
"No.” She sighed heavily, her eyes focused on some distant point in space as she stepped into her dress. “I'll be the one to tell her. But I've got to tell Connie first. I'm sure she'll have some kind of damage control in mind."
"I'm sure.” It was physically painful to watch Laine dress without touching her the way he'd spent the whole of last night thinking about. Especially after the greeting he'd gotten in the elevator.
Pulling the straps of her dress up, Laine turned around, shot a quick glance over her shoulder. “A little help?"
"Of course.” Jason placed his hands low on her spine and pulled the zipper up, closing off the smooth skin on her gorgeous back. He twisted her sleek fall of hair aside and clasped the dress closed. The smell of her hit him like an anvil. She was fresh, clean with a hint of something citrus and herbal.
Not sure he'd be able to control himself this close to her, he stepped back two paces and jammed his hands into the pockets of his suit pants.
Laine sank into the deep cushions of his couch and stared at her phone. She looked so small, her knees pressed together, ankles apart. Finally she punched in the numbers to contact her boss and, resting her forehead against one hand, effectually shielded her face from his scrutiny.
"I'll give you a bit of privacy.” He moved off toward the kitchen and fiddled with the coffee maker. He poured the water in, and then dumped several scoops of grounds into the filter. Strong stuff, the way she liked it. Sugar, no cream.
Stepping over to the breakfast bar for a couple of thick mugs, he stole a peek into the other room. Laine's face looked strained, her hand open wide as if frozen mid-gesture.
"Connie, I get that ... no, she doesn't know...” Her eyes flashed up at Jason, then quickly away. Rising off the couch, she hunched forward and walked back toward the elevator.
Jason's hands gripped the counter. He should have given her more privacy, but ... The look of guilt he'd seen on Laine's face was twisting his stomach in knots. He should have known Connie wouldn't want to tell the bride about the groom's secret. She'd be more worried about another last minute failure than the actual happiness and success of two real people.
A woman was about to walk down the aisle and vow to love and cherish this one man for the rest of her life—a man who spent the night before in the arms of another man. It wasn't fair.
Connie didn't have much of a heart in that bony little chest of hers, but
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