zip.“What on earth have you done here?” she scolded. “The chiffon’s caught.”
Or maybe he’d leave it on, slide his hands down the silky fabric covering her delightful butt, then lift that pretty skirt…. “Would you like me to try?” Dan suggested meekly.
“No!
“Good idea.” Rosemary propelled her reluctant granddaughter closer.
Jo turned her back on him. “I mean it,” she muttered. “This has absolutely no connection with us.” The blush even tinted her neck. He wanted to bite it.
“Uh-huh.”
The dress smelled of lavender, the silk felt blood-warm. The back cut away to a modest V but he still had to fight the impulse to lean forward and lick the smooth skin it exposed. Dan took his time freeing her. This was the longest he’d been this close to her since his return and he made the most of it. Jo squirmed under his caressing fingers.
“Don’t fidget,” said Rosemary, hovering anxiously. “You’ll tear it.”
“Listen to your grandmother,” said Dan, enjoying himself immensely. Rosemary nodded her approval.
“You know, I sewed every bead on by hand. Hours and hours it took. I’ll never forget Graham’s face when he saw me.” In Nan’s face, Dan caught a glimpse of the young bride she’d once been. Jo nodded but tensed. How many times, he wondered, had she heard this story? He lifted his hands to her shoulders in silent support, all teasing gone.
Rosemary was still talking. “His family never thoughtI was good enough but we were a great team. You two make a great team, too. I’ve always thought so.”
Jo moved away from his hold. “Nan, we’re not getting married.”
“And when she’s with you, Daniel, I never worry. Now…what was I…?” Her voice trailed off; her attention turned inward. Her hands fluttered around her apron as though searching for a hold; she looked down at the cherries printed on it and her face cleared.
“I’m making jam today.”
“The mandarins for the marmalade are in the pantry,” he reminded her.
“Excellent.” Rosemary bustled into the larder. Dan returned to untangling Jo’s zip.
“She was up in the night and wouldn’t settle until I tried it on,” said his bride defensively. “I haven’t changed my mind about marrying you.”
“You know what I think?”
“I know I’m not going to like it.”
He freed the last of the delicate fabric and pulled the zipper down slowly. “Your subconscious is on my side.” He brushed his lips along the bumps in her spine.
Jo jumped and tried to tug away. “No, it’s not.”
Holding the opened zip, Dan smiled at the goose bumps his kiss had raised. “And so is your body.” She bowed her head. “Jo?”
Rosemary staggered out of the pantry with the bucket of citrus. Releasing the dress, Dan went to help. “Daniel, how nice of you to visit,” she exclaimed. “You knew I was making your favorite marmalade, didn’t you?”
“I could never sneak anything past you, could I?” Taking the bucket, Dan turned back to Jo.
She was gone.
J O STOOD AT HER BEDROOM window, watching Dan wield a chainsaw, slicing through the tangled hedge like it was a pat of soft butter. Why couldn’t he simply accept her refusal? Why did he have to persist with this ridiculous wedding deadline? She didn’t want to humiliate him.
When she’d finally fallen asleep she’d dreamed of him standing in the church, waiting for her, his expression drawn and anxious. The congregation’s whispers becoming titters, then laughs until everyone howled. She’d woken up crying.
In a stupid wedding dress.
With a sigh, Jo returned it to storage, repacking it in tissue and laying the stalks of dried lavender through the folds to protect it. It was a battle of nerves and she had to win for the sake of a friendship neither of them could afford to lose.
She glanced out the window again, this time at her grandmother, sitting in an armchair in the glass conservatory adjoining the kitchen where she was “supervising
Or maybe he’d leave it on, slide his hands down the silky fabric covering her delightful butt, then lift that pretty skirt…. “Would you like me to try?” Dan suggested meekly.
“No!
“Good idea.” Rosemary propelled her reluctant granddaughter closer.
Jo turned her back on him. “I mean it,” she muttered. “This has absolutely no connection with us.” The blush even tinted her neck. He wanted to bite it.
“Uh-huh.”
The dress smelled of lavender, the silk felt blood-warm. The back cut away to a modest V but he still had to fight the impulse to lean forward and lick the smooth skin it exposed. Dan took his time freeing her. This was the longest he’d been this close to her since his return and he made the most of it. Jo squirmed under his caressing fingers.
“Don’t fidget,” said Rosemary, hovering anxiously. “You’ll tear it.”
“Listen to your grandmother,” said Dan, enjoying himself immensely. Rosemary nodded her approval.
“You know, I sewed every bead on by hand. Hours and hours it took. I’ll never forget Graham’s face when he saw me.” In Nan’s face, Dan caught a glimpse of the young bride she’d once been. Jo nodded but tensed. How many times, he wondered, had she heard this story? He lifted his hands to her shoulders in silent support, all teasing gone.
Rosemary was still talking. “His family never thoughtI was good enough but we were a great team. You two make a great team, too. I’ve always thought so.”
Jo moved away from his hold. “Nan, we’re not getting married.”
“And when she’s with you, Daniel, I never worry. Now…what was I…?” Her voice trailed off; her attention turned inward. Her hands fluttered around her apron as though searching for a hold; she looked down at the cherries printed on it and her face cleared.
“I’m making jam today.”
“The mandarins for the marmalade are in the pantry,” he reminded her.
“Excellent.” Rosemary bustled into the larder. Dan returned to untangling Jo’s zip.
“She was up in the night and wouldn’t settle until I tried it on,” said his bride defensively. “I haven’t changed my mind about marrying you.”
“You know what I think?”
“I know I’m not going to like it.”
He freed the last of the delicate fabric and pulled the zipper down slowly. “Your subconscious is on my side.” He brushed his lips along the bumps in her spine.
Jo jumped and tried to tug away. “No, it’s not.”
Holding the opened zip, Dan smiled at the goose bumps his kiss had raised. “And so is your body.” She bowed her head. “Jo?”
Rosemary staggered out of the pantry with the bucket of citrus. Releasing the dress, Dan went to help. “Daniel, how nice of you to visit,” she exclaimed. “You knew I was making your favorite marmalade, didn’t you?”
“I could never sneak anything past you, could I?” Taking the bucket, Dan turned back to Jo.
She was gone.
J O STOOD AT HER BEDROOM window, watching Dan wield a chainsaw, slicing through the tangled hedge like it was a pat of soft butter. Why couldn’t he simply accept her refusal? Why did he have to persist with this ridiculous wedding deadline? She didn’t want to humiliate him.
When she’d finally fallen asleep she’d dreamed of him standing in the church, waiting for her, his expression drawn and anxious. The congregation’s whispers becoming titters, then laughs until everyone howled. She’d woken up crying.
In a stupid wedding dress.
With a sigh, Jo returned it to storage, repacking it in tissue and laying the stalks of dried lavender through the folds to protect it. It was a battle of nerves and she had to win for the sake of a friendship neither of them could afford to lose.
She glanced out the window again, this time at her grandmother, sitting in an armchair in the glass conservatory adjoining the kitchen where she was “supervising
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