She liked that idea. She liked the idea of working at the Ridge, being able to keep Bradley with her much of the time or leave him with very reliable day care when she couldn’t, and of being able to walk down the hall or across the street whenever she felt compelled to see her soon-to-be husband. Maybe distract him from his computer screen or latest marketing plans.
When a pair of strong male hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against an equally strong male chest, she grinned, thinking that someone else’s thoughts must have been running along the same lines as her own.
“You know,” Trevor whispered in her ear, “I may have to change my mind about you becoming the event coordinator for Jarrod Ridge.”
She jerked her head back, shocked and hurt.
“You’re a little too good at this, and I’m afraid you’ll be in such high demand once people figure that out that I’ll never get to have you all to myself.”
As the rest of his words sank in, she released a relieved breath, the cold chill of his perceived criticism replaced by a pleasurable warmth.
Of all the weddings she’d taken part in, she thought she was probably most proud of this one. Not only because she’d pulled it all together in such a short amount of time—and no matter how “simple” Erica had assured her she wanted her special day to be, there wasn’t really anything simple about a wedding unless the couple eloped to Las Vegas. And even that involved booking airline tickets and finding a chapel.
But in addition to the food and decor, and keeping everything and everyone on schedule, the entire immediate Jarrod family was in attendance this evening. All the brothers and sisters, husbands and wives. And most surprising of all, Erica’s father and stepmother were not only there to help celebrate their daughter’s big day, but seemed to be getting along well with all of the Jarrods.
During their time together, Erica had told her about the shock and hurt of discovering that Walter Prentice, the man who’d raised her from birth, wasn’t her biological father and that Donald Jarrod was. A fact she hadn’t become aware of until after Donald’s death. Given that the Prentices and Jarrods apparently hadn’t gotten along all that well to begin with, it had taken all these months for the two families to overcome their differences.
Haylie was glad. Erica deserved to enjoy her wedding day without the stress of worrying about how the people she loved most in the world were going to act once they were in the same room together.
Turning her attention back to the man who was holding her snuggly against his chest, swaying back and forth to the airy notes of Chopin, Haylie said, “I was just thinking about that myself. Mostly about how convenient it would be to work here, knowing we could drop in on each other throughout the day.”
“And why would we want to do that?” he murmured, feigning puzzlement even as his tone rang with amusement.
“Oh, I don’t know. In case we need to discuss some pressing matter where Bradley is concerned. Or for the occasional office quickie. I’ve always had a fantasy about making love on a desk in the middle of the workday.”
Her head spun as he whipped her around to face him. The tea-length skirt of her emerald-green gown swirled around her legs before rustling to a stop.
“You never told me that,” Trevor ground out, his coffee-brown eyes narrowed and intense, one brow raised in keen interest.
She cocked her head to the side. “It’s never come up before now. And you never asked,” she replied primly.
His other brow went up in what she could only perceive as a challenging expression. “I’ve got a desk. Downstairs. And that’s one fantasy I’d be happy to realize right now.”
“But how would that look,” she began, reaching up to straighten his already perfectly straight black tie, “for the wedding planner to go missing in the middle of the wedding reception? And you’re the bride’s brother. Your disappearance would look even worse.”
Sliding a hand to the small of her back, he tugged her close, letting her feel the proof of his interest.
“You’re assuming I care what anyone thinks. Let me assure you, I don’t.”
“I know you don’t,” she murmured softly.
That poise and self-confidence was one of the reasons she loved him. And it was going to come in handy once the media found out he was marrying her, the aunt of his nearly five-month-old illegitimate son. She couldn’t wait until that hit the fan. But as Trevor said and had assured her numerous times before, it didn’t matter what others thought or how many crazy headlines the national tabloids invented. Only the truth mattered, and the truth was that she loved him to distraction, just as he loved her.
They had each other and Bradley, and maybe one day more children to add to their happy family. As far as Haylie was concerned, that made her life just about perfect.
“An hour,” she told him, leaning her face into his. “One more hour, and whether the bride and groom have left or not, I’ll let you whisk me down to your office and seduce me on top of your desk.”
To her delight, Trevor responded with a low growl. The sound made her shiver, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“Sixty minutes,” he agreed, synchronizing his watch, “and not a second more.”
She nodded.
“In the meantime, how about a dance?”
Taking slow steps backward, he pulled her with him, and she went willingly, following him onto the dance floor and into the rest of her wonderful, happy-ever-after life.