More than a Convenient Bride. Michelle Celmer
sister, the queen of all things girly and impractical, would have been a big help right about now but she wasn’t answering calls or texts. If it was anyone but Jennifer, Julie might have worried, but that was typical for her sister. She was either completely distant and unreliable, or smothering Julie with her sisterly love. There was no middle ground.
“I suck at this,” she said.
“Maybe just a little mascara and liner,” Lark suggested, with a sympathetic smile. “Would you like me to help?”
Julie looked up at her with pleading, raccoon eyes. “Yes, please.”
Lark worked her magic and she was right. Julie was lucky to have been blessed with smooth, clear skin, and just a touch of liner and mascara and a little clear gloss on her lips subtly enhanced her features.
“You’re a genius,” she told Lark.
“And you look beautiful,” Lark said, smiling and stepping back to admire her work. “Lucas is a lucky man. And forgive me for saying, but it’s about darned time you two tied the knot.”
Julie had heard that same remark from a dozen people since she and Luc made the announcement earlier that week. “It doesn’t seem...sudden?”
“I always suspected you and Luc had something going—I think everyone has—but you’re a very private person, so I didn’t want to ask. I figured that if you wanted me to know, or needed to talk about it, you would tell me.”
If there had been anything to tell, Julie probably would have.
There was a rap on the dressing room door and Lark’s sister Skye stepped into the dressing room. She looked surprisingly healthy for someone still recovering from a near-fatal car crash during the tornado. Luc had performed an emergency cesarean to save her unborn child, and her injuries had been so severe she’d been in a coma for four months. Until Skye was well enough to care for her daughter, Lark had taken responsibility for Baby Grace, who was the sweetest most adorable infant Julie had ever seen.
“It’s time,” Skye said, then sighed wistfully. “You look beautiful. Luc is a lucky guy.”
Julie took a good look at herself in the mirror, spinning in a circle to get every angle. Not half-bad.
Though she usually kept her hair pulled up into a ponytail, she’d worn it down today, in loose, soft curls that tumbled across her shoulders. She’d even put on her mother’s diamond earrings. It was the only thing of her mother’s that she had left. In his grief after she died, Julie’s father had removed every trace of his wife from their home. Photos, personal items, anything that reminded him of her. Julie had only been four at the time, but she remembered sitting on her parents’ bed, crying as she watched their housekeeper clear out her mother’s closet, shoving her clothes into black trash bags.
Between his wife’s death and having a newborn infant to care for, her father seemed to forget that he had another child who was mixed up and lonely and desperate for the unconditional love and affection her mother had always given so freely. Within weeks of her death he’d hired a nanny and began traveling extensively. He had never been what anyone would consider an attentive father, but after her mother’s death he had become virtually nonexistent.
Julie breathed deep to ease the knot of sadness in her chest, the burn of tears behind her eyes. Now was not the time to think about her less than ideal childhood. God forbid she start crying and ruin her makeup.
“How are you doing?” Lark asked. “You nervous?”
Julie shook her head. This wasn’t going to be a real marriage, so what reason did she have to be nervous?
Though they wouldn’t be married for long, she had insisted on a prenup. To protect not just his interests, but her own, as well. She’d never been the type to flaunt her wealth, but with the inheritance her father had left her and her sister, and a little savvy investing, Julie was pretty much set for life. A simple, no frills life, but that was fine with her. She didn’t need much.
“So, are you ready?” Lark asked, and Julie turned to find her and Skye watching her expectantly.
After one more quick glance in the mirror, she nodded and told her friends, “Let’s do this.”
With so little time to plan the wedding, Drew had volunteered to put a guest list together for Luc. But now, as Luc stood with Drew at his side, waiting for the ceremony to begin, scanning row upon row of guests idly chatting, he was beginning to think that had been a bad idea. It seemed as if half the town was there.
He leaned in close to Drew and said in a harsh whisper, “This is your idea of small and intimate?”
“Just helping to make it convincing,” Drew said with a wry smile. It was obvious to Luc that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. “Are you nervous?”
“Of course not.” What reason did he have to be? This was nothing more than a business arrangement between friends. In fact, he felt exceedingly calm. A little bored even.
“All grooms get nervous,” Drew persisted.
“But I’m not a real groom, am I?”
“Look around you. This sure looks real to me. Besides, you can’t argue with a marriage license.”
Okay, so maybe he was a real groom, but not in the traditional sense. They would be married, but not really married. Together, but not really together.
Luc glanced over at his mother, who sat in her wheelchair in the front row, an encouraging smile on her face. When he told her about the marriage she was beside herself excited, even when he explained the true nature of the situation.
“It’s just a way to keep Julie in the States,” he’d explained.
“Of course it is,” she’d said with a twinkle in her eyes, as if she knew something he didn’t. If she believed it to be anything more than a friend helping out another friend, if she had her heart set on Luc and Julie falling in love, she would be sorely disappointed.
Stella Daniels, who was officiating, touched Luc’s shoulder and said softly, “Words cannot express how happy I am for the two of you. And forgive me for saying this, but it’s about damned time.”
He kept a smile planted firmly on his lips, but he felt a distinct twinge of guilt. He’d heard many similar remarks this past week, and as much as he hated the idea of lying to everyone, he and Julie had no choice.
The music started and everyone turned to the doorway where Lark stood, carrying a small bouquet of miniature yellow roses—Julie’s favorite color.
Here we go, Luc thought, his stomach bottoming out.
Okay, so, maybe he was a little nervous.
Lark made her trip down the aisle, but Luc’s attention remained fixed on the doorway, anticipation tying his stomach into knots. Then the “Wedding March” started and Julie appeared in the doorway, and all Luc could think was wow.
Rarely did he see Julie with her hair down, and in all the time he’d known her he couldn’t recall ever seeing her in a dress. Cut several inches above the knee, it was just long enough to be tasteful, but short enough to showcase her toned, suntanned calves and a little bit of thigh...
Whoa, he thought, as his pulse picked up speed. This was Julie he was gawking at, his best friend. But damn, who could blame him? She looked stunning and sexy and as his eyes met and locked on hers, he experienced a distinct tug of sexual attraction. Bordering on red-hot lust.
Talk about getting caught up in the moment. If this kept up he was going to need a serious attitude adjustment.
Everyone stood and she started down the aisle, walking alone, holding a single long-stemmed yellow rose, looking cool and composed, as if she did this sort of thing all the time. This may