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Just Say I Do
Lauryn Chandler
RITA Award Winning AuthorSUBSTITUTE GROOMSUBSTITUTE GROOMIf only Annabelle were getting married… Then her nutty, but wonderful family would stop chanting "poor Annabelle" every time the once-jilted bride walked into a room.Enter one groom.Well, not exactly. Adam had convinced the entire town that he and Annabelle were heading to the altar, but she knew the man she'd once hopelessly fallen in love with as a girl would never really marry her. Adam was just being his usual Prince Charming self by coming to her rescue. But now it was Annabelle herself chanting "poor me"–hoping Adam would just say "I do" for real!
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u6f302da1-4290-5b4f-98d0-750be64d6744)
Excerpt (#uf5d97ee8-861f-5f40-bf31-157f69275de7)
Dear Reader (#u16c39cdd-f7d0-542c-a376-f77d0951894d)
Title Page (#uf21f7802-3206-5bff-a850-51cf71251d7d)
Dedication (#u7502a792-22b2-53d7-9d2d-bf4083631042)
About the Author (#u3e57b2db-8dfc-542d-9c82-a7b91918add6)
Chapter One (#u6a91724f-d60e-5234-bd01-7cfa4eb47a5c)
Chapter Two (#uc82f5250-eb33-5d3d-8ceb-cd268cf81bed)
Chapter Three (#ud24cfe8b-4006-529a-9db8-42e2dafb8e48)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“Annabelle and I are…engaged,”
Adam announced, turning to face her family.
Then he swept Annabelle into his arms. He felt her gasp against his parted lips and decided he’d better keep the kiss reasonably chaste. The contact lasted only a few seconds, but for one charged moment, the room and the people in it - seemed to fade away, their exclamations of surprise sounding like a roll of very distant thunder.
Gaze locked with hers, he tried to convey the message Trust me, but to tell the truth, he was starting to feel a little disoriented himself.
Annabelle stared at him with fists bunched by her sides. Stunned could not describe how she felt Confused, breathless, furious and eager didn’t cut it, either. For one suspended moment as he kissed her, she had almost believed his announcement was real.
Engaged to Adam Garrett.
Just the idea of it caused her body to tingle in curious places.
Dear Reader (#ulink_9ddbecae-5102-52a7-a621-0c653393bb72),
This July, Silhouette Romance cordially invites you to a month of marriage stories, based upon your favorite themes. There’s no need to RSVP; just pick up a book, start reading…and be swept away by romance.
The month kicks off with our Fabulous Fathers title, And Baby Makes Six, by talented author Pamela Dalton. Two single parents marry for convenience’ sake, only to be surprised to learn they’re expecting a baby of their own!
In Natalie Patrick’s Three Kids and a Cowboy, a woman agrees to stay married to her husband just until he adopts three adorable orphans, but soon finds herself longing to make the arrangement permanent. And the romance continues when a beautiful wedding consultant asks her sexy neighbor to pose as her fiancе in Just Say I Do by RITA Award-winning author Lauryn Chandler.
The reasons for weddings keep coming, with a warmly humorous story of amnesia in Vivian Leiber’s The Bewildered Wife; a new take on the runaway bride theme in Have Honeymoon, Need Husband by Robin Wells; and a green card wedding from debut author Elizabeth Harbison in A Groom for Maggie.
Here’s to your reading enjoymentl
Melissa Senate
Senior Editor
Silhouette Romance
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Just Say I Do
Lauryn Chandler
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
In loving memory of Vicki Triplett Lee, a woman of grace, intelligence and courage. Thank you for giving the world Judy, who is a woman like you and a wonderful friend to walk through life with.
LAURYN CHANDLER
Originally from California, Lauryn now lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, where she can look out her window and see deer walking down the street. She holds a B.A. in Drama and when not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and fiancе, going for long hikes with her dogs and finding new ways to cheat at Crazy Eights.
Lauryn is the recipient of the 1995 Romance Writers of America RITA Award for Best Traditional Romance.
Chapter One (#ulink_7d4ee6c5-d3c9-5959-832d-b428db57b892)
Annabelle Simmons fixed an attentive smile on her face and commanded her eyes not to cross.
If headaches were dollar bills, she decided, I would be rolling in dough.
As the owner of Wedding Belles, Elegant Weddings for the Romance of a Lifetime, Annabelle knew that headaches were simply part of her job description. Far from rolling in dough, she was closeted in her office, gritting her teeth against the rhythmic pounding of her temples as Celeste Costello detailed the most recent in a seemingly endless series of last-minute ideas for her daughter’s May wedding.
“I’m thinking doves,” Mrs. Costello enthused. “One hundred snow-white doves released at the exact moment Maria and Rosario kiss.” She fluttered her hands toward the ceiling, an approximation, Annabelle supposed, of the effect she was after.
“Real doves.” The older woman pointed a redtipped finger in warning. “Don’t give me pigeons and try to pass them off as doves.” She sat back in her chair, holding her purse tightly against her ample stomach. “And money is no object.”
Mrs. Costello ended every request with “And money is no object.” Annabelle waited politely for her customary follow-up.
“You could do it for what?” Mrs. C. tapped acrylic nails on the Lucite clasp of her purse. “One, maybe two hundred dollars?”
Annabelle swallowed a sigh.
Generally, she was able to handle customer demands with grace and equanimity. After six years of coordinating weddings, she was used to requests ranging from the simple to the downright outrageous. She gave each bride’s needs her time, attention and very best efforts. She worked at challenging logistics with the tenacity of a dog chasing a flea.
Doves, she knew, were not impossible—just absurdly impractical in the formal traditional church ceremony Mrs. Costello and her daughter had planned. Father DiAngelo would be forced to dodge bird droppings while he blessed the happy couple.
Annabelle didn’t mind explaining the difficulties one hundred flapping birds would create, but Mrs. Costello was unlikely to stop at doves. Yesterday she’d called to discuss the possibility of a pumpkinshaped carriage pulled by six horses, and the day before that, a skywriter to scrawl, “We Love You, Maria and Rosario,” across an early May sky that would likely be too overcast to see the plane, much less the message.
To further complicate matters, Maria had requested a “simple” wedding, and Mrs. Costello might say that money was no object, but she didn’t mean it.
Annabelle’s headache expanded from her temples to the top of her head.
I’m losing my sense of humor, she thought. A few months ago, Mrs. Costello and her horses and planes and canapеs shaped like Maria’s profile would have seemed cute. Unfortunately, Mrs. Costello wasn’t Annabelle’s only problem at the moment.
“I think doves are a lovely idea,” she began care-fully, folding her hands on the lap of her peach linen skirt. “They’re romantic and very dramatic.”
Mrs. Costello beamed and nodded as much as she could over the folds of her heavy chin.
“But it’s just not practical to include them at this point.”
The smile slipped from the other woman’s face, and Annabelle hastened to explain her reasoning.
“The plans for Maria and Rosario’s wedding are already so lovely. And the wedding is less than five weeks away. At this point, it’s really much wiser to set the ideas we’ve already discussed and to concentrate on executing them to the very best of our abilities.”
Mrs. Costello digested this advice. “No doves.” She pursed her lips when Annabelle shook her head. “Tell me, for your wedding, aren’t you going to have anything fancy? A little something extra?”
Annabelle froze. She had mentioned her wedding to Mrs. Costello and her daughter more than four months ago, back in the days when there was actually going to be a wedding. Steven had called a halt to the proceedings two weeks ago today. The “some-thing extra” at this point would be the groom.
Taking a conspicuous glance at her watch, Annabelle gasped loudly. “Oh, dear. The time…I had no idea…I have an appointment with the baker.” She rose, straightened her skirt and reached for the matching peach jacket she’d draped over the back of her chair. “We’re going to discuss your idea of shaping the top tier of the cake to resemble the Vatican.”
Mrs. Costello. smiled broadly as she remembered this bit of inspiration and hastened to rise, also. “Good, good. You tell me what the baker says. I’ll be home all afternoon. My cousin Sophia and I are working on the wedding favors. We’re thinking of using live oysters, so the guests can find their own pearls.”
Oh, dear God. Weakly, Annabelle put a hand to her aching temple. “Have you discussed this with Maria?”
Before Mrs. Costello could justify such a potentially aromatic idea, the door to Annabelle’s office burst open.
The Wedding Belles office was located on the first floor of the large Victorian house Annabelle shared with her sister, Lianne. Working at home had many advantages, but privacy—particularly with a gregarious seventeen-year-old in the house—was not one of them.
Lia stood in the doorway, full of the fire and drama only a teenager could project within the first five seconds of entering a room.
“Have you seen this?” she asked theatrically, holding up an issue of Collier Bay News and Views, the local throwaway paper that came out every Friday.
“Lia,” Annabelle admonished, her eyes darting meaningfully to Mrs. Costello, “I have a client…”
Lia looked at the silver-haired woman.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Costello. Did you tell Annabelle my idea about the oysters?” Without missing a beat, she shook the paper at her sister and demanded again, “Have you seen this?”
Mrs. Costello craned her fleshy neck to get a glimpse at the newsprint. “Is that the ‘Ask Effie’ column? Is there anything in there about my Maria?”
Each week Collier Bay’s resident society maven— the ubiquitous Effie—chronicled the local doings in a column for her loyal readers. She was especially fond of weddings and frequently highlighted one of Annabelle’s clients. Mrs. Costello had been waiting with bated breath for Effie to focus on Maria.
“No.” Lia shook her head broadly, and Annabelle had to marvel at her sister’s gift for ominous fore-shadowing. “There isn’t anything about Maria. It’s all about Annabelle.”
“Annabelle?”
“Me?”
“Yes.” Lia nodded. “And it amazes me after everything we’ve been through that I would be the last to know!”
“What are you talking about?” Annabelle took a nervous step forward. “What’s in the paper?”
Normally, Annabelle clipped the “Ask Effie” column and posted it on her bulletin board Friday evening. She hadn’t gotten around to it last night. “What does it say?”
Lia handed the newspaper over with a slight frown. “You haven’t seen it?” She watched Annabelle unfold the crackly pages. “I thought you’d seen it and you just weren’t telling me.”
Annabelle scanned the large print. “What are you talking about? Telling you wha—” Her eyes widened and her jaw fell, then clamped shut again. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.
“What? What is it?” Never one to bow to discretion, Mrs. Costello huddled next to Annabelle and peered around her shoulder. “What does Effie say? Is there any news about—Oh, my Go-od.” Her painted lips pursed. She pressed a hand to her chubby cheek.
Silently, Lia and Mrs. Costello waited while Annabelle scanned the awful story:
After a nearly yearlong engagement, local wedding coordinator Annabelle Simmons and city councilman Steven J. Stephens have called it quits barely two months before D day. If you Ask Effie, this turn of events is a blow to Collier Bay, which would have been host to one of the loveliest weddings of the year had the councilman and Ms. Simmons tied the knot. Already local florists are calling this a major financial setback. But not to worry. Councilman Stephens has been seen squiring a striking new lady. A romantic dinner, a stroll along the boardwalk… Perhaps wedding bells will ring by year’s end, after all. Just don’t look for the lovely Ms. Simmons to coordinate the wedding!
The silence that followed was pregnant until Lia offered weakly, “I thought you saw it already.”
Mrs. Costello clucked her tongue. She patted Annabelle’s arm. “Listen, darling, about the cake…So what if the top tier looks like a cake and not the Vatican? The Pope, God bless him, gets enough publicity. Better you shouldn’t get too worked up.”
She shook her head and edged to the door, practically vibrating with the need to share the awful news—with everyone she could find. “When I think of what you’re going through…” She put a hand to her head. “And with the whole world watching yet! It’s a wonder you can plan what to eat for breakfast, much less someone else’s wed—” She stopped herself, pressing her lips together, miming locking them and tossing away the key. “No. I won’t even say the word. Not today. Today we’ll pretend the whole world is single.”
With a fervent “God Bless You,” she opened the door and bustled out.
Annabelle stared at the paper until her vision grew blurry. Two weeks ago Steven had told her he feared they were mismatched and already he’d been seen with a “striking new lady.”
“I’m sorry, Belle.”
