Married by June. Ellen Hartman
he said, and his voice was soft. He had a terrific voice, rich and rumbly, but it could be incredibly gentle. “I wanted this to work out, you know I did. But I can’t…I couldn’t write the vows.” He looked away, his glance bouncing around the room, which was decorated with oversize black and white prints of brides and grooms. “We have to call it off.”
He wasn’t doing this. He wouldn’t. She wouldn’t let him. Her stomach was starting to hurt and she really wanted to take off her belt.
“Please sit down,” she said. “You’re too tall and I’m never going to be able to cut even slices with you looming over me.”
She pushed his chair out with her foot, a little harder than necessary. He stepped back quickly to avoid getting hit in the gut, and she panicked. He was leaving.
“You have to sit down!” she said and he did. She picked up the cake server. “Carrot first.”
He covered her hand with his own. “Please stop talking about cake.”
“Why? Why can’t we get this done? Why can’t one thing go right today?” She pulled her hand away from his. “My belt is too small, my dress is stained and I lost the Richford contract this morning because all of my ideas are stupid. Is it so awful that I’d like to sit here in Alice’s pretty room and eat these cakes with you?”
“You lost the Richford contract?” He shifted slightly toward her. “I’m sorry.”
For the first time, he looked straight at her. She’d always thought those deep brown eyes gave him an unfair advantage. Cooper was a truly good guy, kind, honest, romantic. He looked so trustworthy, she didn’t know how anyone could ever doubt him.
“They didn’t love my Rebel Without a Cause theme.”
“Everyone dies at the end of that movie.”
“Sal Mineo dies. Everyone else is fine.”
“That other kid dies in the chicken scene.”
“He was a bully!”
“Still, not exactly the first film you think of for a wedding.”
Jorie pulled the tray closer and cut a thick wedge of the red velvet. She wasn’t going to agree to lemon or carrot, so why mess around? “Maybe you should have come to the meeting. You seem to have the same taste in weddings as Sally and Nadine.” She flipped the slice onto his plate and speared a bite with his fork. She held it up and he hesitated, then took it. His mouth curved around the fork. Cooper had a beautiful mouth with strong, sculpted lips.
“That’s delicious.”
“See? I know what I’m talking about. I knew you’d love that one.”
“Liking the same cake doesn’t mean we should get married.”
“What?” The desperate, deliberate innocence in her voice reminded her so much of her mom that she could almost see Chelsea sitting at the table with them. How many times had her mom tried to hold on to a guy who was letting her down easy? How often had Jorie promised herself she’d never be that begging woman?
He folded his hands, pressing them together.
“It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Badly. I want to call off the wedding. If we go through with it, we’ll be lying. To my family, to our friends. To each other.”
“I’m not lying,” she whispered. She laid the fork gently down on the edge of his plate. She put her hand on his wrist, wanting to hold onto him and hating herself for wanting it.
“We are, Jorie. I tried to write the vows and I couldn’t. I kept winding up back at your mom. We’re doing this for her.” He shook his head. “We don’t even know each other.”
“I knew you’d like red velvet cake.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Of course it’s not.” She dropped his wrist. She knew as well as anyone that cake wasn’t enough. “Why is this suddenly coming up now? When you proposed, I said no. Remember? I said it was too soon and my mom was wedding-crazed as usual. But you persuaded me. You said we had a great start and we could build on it and we should give my mom this last gift because what better way to start a life together?” She slid out of her chair and walked a few steps before turning back. “You had your big romantic moment. You wrote me a fairy tale. And now I’ve got everything wrapped up in this wedding—my business, my reputation, the fundraiser for my mom’s registry, everything! And you’re going to leave me hanging?”
He poked the tines of his fork into the icing on the edge of the plate.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“What did you mean, then? You asked me to marry you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I wanted to make your mom happy. To make you happy. I thought it would all work out.”
She stared at him. “No wonder,” she said. “You’re a romantic just like her. Things don’t ‘work out.’ You have to work at them. You have to try.”
“We have tried.”
“No, we haven’t,” she said quickly. “We’ve been tiptoeing around each other ever since my mom died.”
The fork clattered on the plate. He shook his head and pushed his chair back, not making eye contact. “I’m sorry. Jorie, you’re a great person. I wanted your mom to be happy and I wanted you to be happy, but I can’t marry you. It will only make more problems.”
He was walking out. Just like that. He’d decided things were over and it didn’t matter what she said or what she wanted.
“We have to at least try,” she whispered. “I can’t—” become my mother “—ruin my mother’s last wish.”
“Your mom is the reason we got engaged. I can’t get married for her, too.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her life was ending right here at the tasting table in the back room at Lucky’s. Her engagement. Her chance at being the woman Cooper Murphy chose to marry. The moment when she proved once and for all that she wasn’t going to live her mother’s life.
He leaned down and she hoped he’d changed his mind. Maybe he was going to kiss her and every thing else he’d said would fade into a bad dream. “I’m so sorry that I hurt you,” he said, very quietly.
She couldn’t speak. He didn’t kiss her. The door closed behind him and she was alone with her tray of untasted cakes and two dirty forks.
COOPER PAUSED AFTER HE closed the door. Nice going, jackass. He’d handled that about as badly as possible. He’d been screwing this up right from the start and it had ended with Jorie getting hurt. He rubbed his wrist, pressing the spot where she’d held him tightly. Jorie didn’t cling. She didn’t beg. Hell, she hardly ever asked. He was hard pressed to remember an instance in the time he’d known her when she’d asked him for something that didn’t have to do with the wedding.
He shook his head. That was the point. She didn’t want anything from him. He and Jorie didn’t have a relationship, they had plans for a wedding.
As he passed the big front window of the bakery, he glimpsed Alice through the glass. Her mouth opened when she saw him, and she glanced over her shoulder toward the tasting room. Good. Jorie wouldn’t be alone. He was halfway across the street, heading toward his office, hoping he could finally make some progress on the speech he was supposed to be writing for his brother, when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID. “Dad?”
“We need you at the house.”
“What’s wrong?” A list went through his mind… Mom, Bailey, Dad. Was someone sick? “Dad, what’s happened? Is Mom…?”
“Your mother is fine. How long before you can get here?”
“I…”