The Bridesmaid Page 5

  Joe dozed on and off as the train trundled along, rocking gently side to side. Somewhere in the night he was rudely awakened by the harsh whisper of his name. When he opened his eyes, he saw only pink plastic, and then felt the pressure of a knobby knee on his thigh.

  “Ouch!” he said as Kate half crawled, half fell over him into the seat next to him. He had no idea what had happened to the young woman sitting beside him. He had not seen her or felt her move over him to leave.

  Kate landed with a thud.

  “What time is it?” Joe asked with a yawn.

  “Two,” Kate said, and dragged the garment bag across their bodies, stuffing it into the space between her and the window. Apparently, she’d given up on trying to keep the dress wrinkle free. She dug in her shoulder bag and handed him a prewrapped sandwich.

  “What’s this?”

  “Supper,” she said. “I got them from the dining car before they closed. I hope you like tuna.”

  Joe did like tuna—from his kitchen. He was entirely suspicious of a prewrapped tuna sandwich from an Amtrak dining car. But then again, he was starving, and desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Kate reached in her bag again and produced two cans of iced tea—another cause for gag reflex—and the pièce de résistance, a carefully wrapped chocolate-chip cookie that was the size of a small dinner plate. “Last one,” she said proudly, and placed it on her lap, then unwrapped her tuna sandwich.

  They both took a bite, chewing carefully. “May I ask you something?” she asked before taking another bite of a sandwich that looked just as soggy as his.

  “Sure,” Joe said.

  “Do you believe in fate?”

  Joe almost choked on the tuna. Generally, when a woman asked him if he believed in fate, it was the lead-in to a conversation about feelings. Joe did not like to talk about feelings. Most of the time he didn’t even like to acknowledge he had them. Feelings, especially where women were concerned, were never clear-cut for him. They were messy and sticky, and he never seemed to say or feel the right thing.

  He looked at Kate, who was making nice work of a disgusting tuna sandwich. She didn’t really strike him as the kind of woman who wanted to discuss feelings, either. “Why do you ask? Do you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, and glanced at the window. There was nothing but black out there—they were passing through desert. “Most of the time, I’d say no. But today has been kind of weird. It almost feels like this was supposed to happen.”

  “What was supposed to happen?” he asked carefully.

  “Me having such a difficult time getting to Seattle,” she said, and Joe felt a rush of relief. “I mean, Lisa is teetering on the edge, and I am the only one who can get through to her. So I have to wonder, all these obstacles…” She looked at Joe and shrugged. “If, for some stupid reason, Lisa canceled the wedding, it’s possible it’s fate, right?”

  Joe didn’t know Lisa, but having listened in on two conversations, he figured it was more likely that Lisa was just a nut. “I think it would be more of a coincidence.”

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Kate said with a wry smile. “I may sound like a loon, but I’m not really. I’ve just been sitting on a train for the last few hours with nothing to do but think.”

  “I wasn’t thinking you were crazy, Kate. I was just looking at you.” He liked looking at her. She had some really expressive eyes, and he liked the way her nose was slightly upturned. And her mouth—hell, her mouth.

  Joe made himself look at his sandwich. He wanted to kiss her. Just… kiss her.

  “So, do you?” she asked.

  “Pardon?” he asked with a small cough.

  “Believe in fate.”

  “Ah…” He risked a look at her again. “Depends,” he said noncommittally.

  “Right,” she said, nodding as if they’d just exchanged some meaningful ideas. “For me, too.”

  But Joe was thinking only about sex at the moment, imagining that mouth and those eyes beneath him. He looked away to give himself a good and silent talking-to. Thinking about sex wasn’t going to help anything. It wasn’t going to get them to Seattle, and it would only complicate this fragile, weird alliance they’d formed.

  But he couldn’t stop thinking about it at two in the morning on a train crossing the desert.

  “I’m so tired,” Kate said, and put down what was left of her sandwich. She leaned back and closed her eyes. “You can have the cookie,” she said through a yawn.

  Joe smiled. He gazed at her, wondering how he could have missed just how pretty she was when she knocked into him this morning in New York with the pink raft. Was that really just this morning? He felt as if he’d known her a lot longer than that.

  He silently admired her features, right up to the moment her head slid down on his shoulder and she began to snore.

  Chapter 6

  Lisa took the news about Kate’s delay with a lot of whining, wailing, and “How am I going to do this without you?”

  Kate talked her neurotic cousin off the ledge. She made her understand that she was only missing a dinner, not a major event. It was one meal. Not a huge loss—besides the dress, it was not even a small loss. Lisa said she understood. She even seemed to agree with Kate.

  But not fifteen minutes after Kate had hung up, her mother called.

  “When are you going to be here?” her mother demanded with a slightly accusatory tone.

  “Mom, seriously. I am on a train to Phoenix. A train! I started on a plane, then a car, and now I am on a TRAIN. I am doing the best I can.”

  “Well, I didn’t say you weren’t,” her mother sniffed. “It just seems like you could have rented a car or something.”

  “Mom, do you know where Texas is? It is very far away from Seattle. You can’t drive from Texas to Washington in a blizzard!”

  She must have been speaking with agitation, because Joe put his broad hand on her knee and squeezed reassuringly.

  “Oh, I know,” her mother said wearily. “I was just hoping. We’ll all be sick if you miss the wedding, and Lisa doesn’t need any distractions. I’ve always said that girl is too high strung for her own good.”

  “I won’t miss the wedding,” Kate said firmly. “We are almost to Phoenix, and we hear they are bringing scabs in.”

  “Bringing what?”

  “Scabs.”

  “Strikebreakers,” Joe offered. He had removed his coat again and loosened his collar. His hair, thick and dark brown, looked as if he’d dragged his fingers through it a dozen times. And he had a very sexy shadow of a beard that Kate had to tell herself not to stare at.

  “Who is that?” her mother demanded, jarring Kate back to the present.

  “Ah… Joe.”

  “Joe! Who’s Joe?”

  “He was on my flight. We’re both trying to get to Seattle.”

  “Oh. You should invite him to the wedding,” her mother said cheerfully, as if Kate and Joe were sitting in a café sipping mimosas. She’d never heard of Joe until this moment and was inviting him to a major family event. Her family was crazy.

  “Oh my god,” her mother said suddenly. “Here comes your aunt. I wonder what the crisis is now,” she muttered irritably. “You’d think Lisa was the first woman to ever get married. Katie, sweetheart, keep us posted. We’ll hold the wedding for you if necessary!”

  “Mom, you can’t hold the wedding,” Kate said, but her mother had already signed off.

  Kate clicked off, made a sound of severe frustration, and Joe laughed.

  “Your family sounds as crazy as mine.”

  “I think I’ve got you beat,” Kate said. “Where is your family, anyway?”

  “Scattered,” he said. “My brother is in Paris—”

  “Paris!”

  “Married to a Frenchwoman. My dad and sister are in Connecticut and my mom in Illinois. Yours?”

  “All in Seattle,” Kate said. “My aunt and uncle—Lisa’s parents—live right around the co
rner. It’s like some weird religious-sect compound, everyone always back and forth.” Joe laughed, but he had no idea how tied up in each other’s business they all were.

  “So while you were assuring your mother you’re not just playing hooky, I was digging for news. It looks as if the major airports, like Phoenix, will have enough controllers to get a few flights off the ground.”

  Kate gasped. “Really? You mean we might really get to Seattle?”

  “If we can book a flight,” he said. “I’m going to make a call. I’ve got a kick-ass travel agent.”

  He punched in the number and then said, “Hey, Brenda. It’s Joe.” And he smiled. It was a very easy, very sexy smile, and Kate imagined it could melt the false eyelashes off a woman. “Remember that trip we booked to Seattle? Well, I’ve run into a little trouble…”

  Fifteen minutes later, Kate sat with her arms folded tightly across her, mildly annoyed at the number of times Joe chuckled. If he was going to book a flight, she didn’t see why he didn’t just book it instead of chatting on and on with Brenda, whoever she was, who was probably old enough to be his mother.

  “Okay, we’ll book Kate onto that flight,” he said. “Hold on.” He covered his phone. “What’s your last name, anyway?”

  “Preston.”

  “Preston,” he said into the phone. “Just put it on my account. And yeah, I’ll take the next one.”

  “What next one? You’re not flying with me?” Kate asked.

  Joe grabbed her hand and wrapped his fingers around hers, holding it against his rock-hard thigh. “Great. Thanks, Brenda. I owe you those Maroon 5 tickets.”

  Rats. Maroon 5 was not a grandma band.

  Joe clicked off and beamed at Kate, squeezing her hand. “You’re booked on the last seat of that flight tonight, Kate Preston.”

  She gasped. “Are you kidding?”

  “Would I kid about something like that? Yes, for real.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m going tomorrow. But I don’t have to be there until Monday. You needed to be there yesterday.”

  He was smiling. He was happy to have arranged it. Kate made herself smile. “Thank you. I owe you. Again.”

  “Not to worry,” he said. He looked at her strangely. “What’s the matter? I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I am,” she said, nodding adamantly. “I just…” Really like you. Sorta don’t want this to end. Want to write a sitcom about two people who meet on a plane…

  Kate looked away from his silvery blue eyes. “You know what? I don’t think that tuna-fish sandwich was a good idea.”

  He laughed. “It was a horrible idea. I’m going to book a hotel room. After that, I’ll take you on in Words with Friends if you’re up to it.”

  Kate jerked her gaze to him. “Oh, I’m up to it,” she said, digging out her phone. “I am so up to it.”

  ***

  The hours, she was sad to note, flew by as they played Words with Friends until Joe lost juice in his phone. By that time, they were nearing the Phoenix station, slightly ahead of schedule. Joe had taken care of everything, including transport to the airport, and refused all of her efforts to repay him.

  They arrived at the airport in a transport van—Joe, Kate, their bags, and a crumpled pink garment bag. Kate didn’t have the heart to look at the bridesmaid dress now. She could see that one side of it wasn’t as poufy as it had been starting out and shuddered to think what else had happened in there.

  Joe got out with her, helped her with her bags. “So,” he said, shoving his hands through his hair. “I guess this is it.”

  “I guess so,” Kate said. She tried to smile. “I don’t know your last name,” she said.

  “Firretti,” he said.

  “Firretti,” she repeated, savoring the name a moment. “It sounds so…”

  “Intelligent?” he offered.

  Kate laughed. “I was going to say sporty.”

  Joe smiled.

  “So… you’re moving to Seattle.”

  “I am. And you’re staying in New York.”

  “Yeah,” she said softly.

  Joe touched her cheek with his knuckle. “I have to say, although you suck at navigating, I can’t imagine a better partner in this little jaunt across the country.”

  That made Kate feel warm and tingly all over. “And I should say that although you’re a terrible armrest hog, I’m really glad you ended up next to me.”

  Joe stroked her cheek, touched her earlobe, then reluctantly dropped his hand. “Take care, Kate. Call me if you need anything.”

  “Okay… but your phone is dead.”

  “Right. I’m going to charge it at the airport Hilton,” he said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “In about thirty minutes, it will be good to go. So, call me if something comes up.”

  “Okay,” she said weakly. “You should call me, too. I can give you some tips about Seattle if you need them.”

  “I’ll do that,” he promised.

  There was nothing left to say. Kate smiled ruefully.

  Joe sighed, took her elbow in hand, and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Take care, Kate. But go now, or you’ll miss your flight.” He picked up her bag and put it on her shoulder.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Seriously, Joe Firretti, thanks for everything.” She picked up the garment bag, pulled the stem of her suitcase. “Bye.”

  “Good-bye, Kate.”

  Kate started walking, moving through the glass doors into cool, slightly fetid air. When the doors closed behind her, she glanced back.

  Joe was still standing there, watching her. He lifted his hand.

  So did Kate. She smiled again, then turned away, walking on, feeling exhausted, a little queasy, and indescribably sad.

  Chapter 7

  The airport hotel was a little dingy, the room furnishings a little worn, but the only thing Joe cared about was that it had a shower and a bed. After he’d washed the last thirty-six hours from his body, he pulled on some lounge pants and ordered a burger, fries, and a beer, and settled in to catch up on sports.

  But his gaze kept shifting to the window, from which he would see the occasional planes the scabs managed to send out over the red mountains of Phoenix.

  Joe was not particularly proud of it, but a few years ago, he had been a real dog when it came to women. That was how he’d met Brenda the Travel Agent. She was nice, but turned out to be a little vanilla for his tastes.

  Fortunately, their short dating history had ended well, and the girl could work some travel magic. He knew because part of his job had been to travel, and Brenda had always managed to get him home without much trouble. Uprisings, tsunamis, volcano ash, and terrorist threats were no match for her.

  Joe was glad she’d gotten Kate into the last seat on the last flight out to Seattle. Glad in a non-doglike, adult way of doing something nice for someone for a change. So why was he hoping Kate hadn’t made that plane? And what sort of dumbass was he for not asking to see her in Seattle? He’d thought about it—of course he had—but that thought had been followed by a bunch of other thoughts crowding in and stifling it, like Why, and What’s the point, and Get a grip, it’s just a girl.

  Yeah. A girl. A really cool, really good-looking girl. A girl who had somehow managed to make him sit up and take notice like he hadn’t done in a very long time.

  Smooth, Firretti.

  The sun was beginning to set, and Joe couldn’t see the planes anymore. Kate had obviously made it—her flight would have departed a half hour ago, and she hadn’t called. He closed his eyes and listened to the ESPN guy talk about the Phoenix Suns’ chances this season.

  A knock on the door brought him off the bed. “Thank God,” he said. His stomach was growling. He walked to the door and opened it, then stumbled back a step with surprise.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” Kate said apologetically from just behind the pink raft.

  “No,” Joe said quickly. “You missed your flight?”

  �
��Ah… rescheduled. First thing tomorrow.” Kate winced and put a hand to her belly. “I wasn’t feeling too well. Tuna fish, I think.”

  His grin was slow but broad. “That was some rank tuna fish,” he agreed. “You’d better come in.”

  She smiled and pushed the pink raft at him. “Thanks!”

  He wrestled the garment bag into the rack behind him, and when he turned back, Kate held up a six-pack of beer. “I thought beer would help my tummy,” she said. “And you seem like a beer guy.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he said, grabbing her bags and pulling them in. “Where did you get that, anyway?”

  “From the same guy who told me what room you’re in,” she said. “I have my ways.”

  “Don’t tell me. I might be jealous.” He grinned at her and stepped back to allow her entry. “By the way, just what does a beer guy look like?” he asked as she slipped past him.

  Kate paused. Her gaze dropped to his bare chest, to his lounge pants, and slowly rose again. “Like that,” she said. Her voice had changed. “Just like that,” she added quietly.

  Joe could feel the draw between them, the unmistakable chemistry kicking up and swirling about them into a lethal mix of desire and admiration. It felt as if everything Joe had ever wanted in a woman was standing right in front of him—with too many clothes on, but still—and he was vaguely amazed he’d ever let her walk into that airport without him. He wanted to say all those things, but he felt strangely tongue-tied. He could only reach for her, and at the same moment, she leaped at him.

  Joe crushed her to him, his mouth on her lips, as soft and lush as he’d imagined them to be. Kate grabbed his head between her hands and teased him with her tongue, plunging him into a familiar fog of arousal and desire. But this was different than the usual. This felt deeper and somehow more important.