With This Ring (Wedding Dreams #1) Read online

  With This Ring

  (Wedding Dreams #1)

  Savannah Leigh

  Copyright 2013

  Doodle Designs

  Cover design by Jada D’Lee Designs

  Cover image by George Mayer

  eBook formatting by Mountain Media

  Connect with the Author

  Savannah Leigh Books

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the author.

  With This Ring

  Chapter 1

  Lily

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. Perry. I’ve rescheduled your daughter’s fitting for Wednesday at three. Please tell Cassie we hope she feels better soon.”

  I try to disguise the panic in my voice. A bride with a case of the flu is bad news, especially when she’s due for her final fitting and the wedding is just two weeks away. Still, it’s my job to keep the bride—and her mother—calm, so I force a smile and tell her not to worry before ending the call.

  “Fuck!” I mutter to myself, shaking my head. This is not what we needed, not now. But I will do the worrying. That’s what they pay me to do.

  As a wedding planner, my life consists of nothing but gown fittings and cake samples, putting out fires, and making sure that the bride gets the day of her dreams. Of course, I deal with my share of Bridezillas, but I love my career. I enjoy the organizing and planning that helps to turn every girl’s dream wedding into a reality.

  Every girl, that is, except for me.

  I am thirty-two years old, and my mother is convinced she’ll be dead and buried long before she has the chance to see me in a wedding gown. According to her, I work too much, and my only real chance of finding a husband of my own is if I happen to catch the eye of a groomsman.

  Which I’ve done, incidentally, but it’s never resulted in more than just a few one-night stands and a date with my B.O.B.

  I’ve planned hundreds of weddings—and some have actually lasted past the first anniversary—but I’ve seen enough marital heartache to know that there is no Prince Charming, and I have serious doubts I will ever be a blushing bride. I know this is not what people want in a wedding planner, so I keep my thoughts to myself.

  Suddenly the door swing opens, and in walks my partner-in-crime, ripping me out of my pity party.

  “Kill me,” Sierra mutters. She’s holding her bag, two coffees, and the latest issue of Bridal Couture. “Murder me. Seriously.”

  Sierra is new to the wedding business and has a flair for the dramatic. What she considers a disaster rarely is.

  “You can’t die today. You have the Williams’ meeting at two.”

  “That’s what you think.”

  My stomach sinks, and I know my face is white. The shitty economy hasn’t been kind to the wedding planning industry. More and more brides are planning their own ceremonies in order to save money.

  “What happened?” I ask, hoping she is just being her melodramatic self this morning.

  She offers me one of the cups. “Eloped. The bride didn’t even have the guts to call. She made her father do it.”

  Fucking hell! It really is a disaster.

  “Did Daddy say why?”

  “Oh, they just couldn’t wait to spend the rest of their fucking lives together, so they took a flight to the Bahamas and got married on the damn beach!”

  “Where the sand is free.”

  “Seriously, Lily, I want to puke.”

  I shake my head and sigh. They were supposed to sign the contract today. Another commission bites the dust.

  “Cassandra Perry has the flu,” I tell her.

  “What a day, huh? I think this calls for margaritas.”

  “We can’t afford to be alcoholics.” Though the thought is really tempting today!

  “True.” Sierra frowns and takes a long sip of her coffee. She opens her mouth to say something when we hear the door open.

  A customer enters the shop, and we plaster on smiles.

  “I’ve got this,” Sierra says, following the woman over to the display of invitations.

  I thank her and boot up my laptop. Opening our financial records, I scan the screen as I check to see if making next month’s mortgage is even a possibility.

  The next two or three months look okay thanks to tomorrow’s wedding. After that . . . who knows?

  Depression—hard and fast—hits me like a tidal wave. We’ve had some rough times, but this is the closest we’ve ever come to closing our doors. It unnerves me.

  It isn’t long before the customer is gone. Sierra looks completely devastated, but I try to hide my worries about our finances by giving her a small smile.

  “No dice, huh?”

  “She said she’ll just print her own.”

  “Of course she did.” Dammit!

  Sierra grabs her bag and makes a beeline for the door. “I’m headed to the Donaldson consultation, so that’s one bright spot in our otherwise shitty day. And don’t forget, I’m handling tonight’s rehearsal.”

  I don’t even bother to hide my panic. “Are you sure you want to tackle it alone? Kellie can be—”

  “A lot to handle, I know. I can do this, Lily. I keep begging you to give me more responsibility. I won’t let you down. Go home and rest up. I’ll need you tomorrow.”

  And with that, she is out the door, not giving me a chance to argue.

  Tonight’s the rehearsal for the Alexander wedding at the Catholic Church on Fifth. The wedding of Kellie Alexander and high-powered attorney, Nicholas Price, is an upscale event with an upscale guest list to match. It’s an incredible opportunity for our business to attract some attention, and for Sierra and me to network with some of the area’s elite. Needless to say, this wedding is a big deal. It could literally mean life and death for our business. But Sierra’s right. She’s my business partner, and I need to let her handle some things on her own, even if it scares the shit out of me.

  I mentally wish her luck and say a prayer. With a sigh, I look around my beloved shop. I opened Wedding Dreams eight years ago with the hope of making every bride’s fairy tale wedding come true. This business is my life’s blood, and I will stop at nothing to keep it open. But I’m also a businesswoman, and need to be realistic. Things are not going well and haven’t been for a while now. I have to figure out a way to make it all work.

  I sit back down at my laptop and try to get things organized for tomorrow’s big event. After a few hours, I need to stretch my back, so I get up and walk around the shop. I look at the beautiful display of invitations, costume jewelry, and veils. I fall in love with my business all over again.

  Because I’m a masochist, I walk toward the bridal gowns. Amid the ruffles and lace, finding the dress I’m looking for is easy. This particular gown has hung in the same place for the past two years. The ball gown has a strapless sweetheart bodice, is covered in little crystals and pearls, has a full skirt, long train and looks like something Cinderella would have worn if only she’d had a better designer.

  I refuse to sell it. It’s the only dress that has ever made me long to be a bride, even though I doubt that will ever happen. It’s been almost a year since I went on a date and even longer since I had sex. Maybe I just need to get laid. That might help my outlook on life and business. But I suppose I need a man for that to happen, and the only man in my life right now is my B.O.B.

  Shaking my head, I replace the dress to it
s hiding place and return to the counter. It’s ten minutes until closing time, so I don’t feel too guilty about ending my workday a little early.

  I may not be able to do margaritas tonight, but a bottle of cheap wine is definitely calling my name.

  ***

  “We have a problem.”

  I sigh. This is our third “problem” in the past half-hour.

  I adjust my headset and smile at the onlookers. Appearing as if everything is moving along perfectly is part of the gig, and I’ve got this look down pat. I casually move away from the front of the sanctuary and head down the hallway in search of a secluded spot.

  “Sierra,” I whisper into the headset, “for someone who wants more responsibility, you’ve sure had a lot of problems today.”

  “That was not my fault! I can’t help that the caterer forgot that the mother-of-the-groom is allergic to strawberries!”

  I shudder and close my eyes briefly to calm down. Talk about killing my business.

  “What’s the problem?” I ask, hoping that it isn’t anything worth getting upset about.

  “We have a missing groomsman.”

  On the list of potential wedding day snags, this isn’t the absolute worst thing that could happen, but it’s not great. The groom won’t care if he’s a buddy short. The bride, however, might throw a shit fit. Best to deal with it if we can.

  “Okay, was he at the rehearsal?”

  “Yes, but he was totally uninterested. And now he’s not here!” Sierra is starting to panic, and I’m afraid the guests will hear.

  “What’s his name?” I ask her calmly, taking a deep breath myself.

  “Andrew. Drew, I think.”

  I let out my breath in a sigh of relief. Drew is not the best man. That might have posed more of a problem.

  “Okay, I’ll look for Drew. You smile and stay calm.”

  On the hunt for a shiny vest and tie, I stealthily make my way toward the men’s dressing rooms. I find three handsome men decked out in purple accessories. I should have four.

  “Hey, guys,” I say with a big smile planted on my face. No reason to have anyone thinking something is wrong.

  “Hey, wedding planner!”

  They are loud and smiling like idiots. I pray they haven’t been drinking.

  “Wow, in unison. Impressive. Do we have a missing person?”

  Craig, the best man, snorts. “That’d be Drew. He’d be late to his own funeral.”

  The guys laugh loudly. I smile patiently and wait for the joke to pass.

  “Could one of you call him? I need to know if he’s planning on making an appearance.”

  They all reach for their phones and press buttons.

  “Straight to voice mail,” John, one of the groomsmen, announces.

  The others nod.

  “Fantastic. Will you keep trying him? Send me a text or give me a call if you reach him?”

  I give the guys my number before heading out into the hallway. Organ music wafts through the air as I head past the classrooms and toward the door that leads to the memorial garden. This church is one of my favorite wedding sites because of the rose bushes and wild flowers that grow there. It’s a peaceful place with benches and tiny waterfalls. It is the perfect place to get away from the craziness of a wedding day.

  And that’s where I find him.

  Since I skipped the rehearsal, I wouldn’t know he was a groomsman if not for the tuxedo. He doesn’t see me, so I take a minute to just stare at the gorgeous man who looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. He’s broad-shouldered with dark brown hair that’s cropped close. He’s clean cut and hot—two characteristics that typically make my mouth water.

  This time is no exception.

  “Drew?” My voice remains calm. I don’t want to scare him and have him running away from this wedding.

  He looks up, and I find myself staring into a pair of deep brown eyes. His gaze travels over me. I’m dressed professionally in my button blazer, pencil skirt, and pumps, but he’s staring at me as if I’m wearing fishnet stockings and stilettos. Now, I know I’m not ugly. I do what I can to maintain my figure, and I think I do a fairly good job. But the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like the hottest woman in the world. As that thought passes, my imagination kicks into overdrive, visualizing his body—hot, naked, and hard—as he pins me against the church wall and fucks me senseless.

  Focus, Lily. You have a job to do.

  I let him stare a second longer before I finally clear my throat and speak into the headset.

  “Sierra, I’ve found him. Alert the guys.”

  He laughs bitterly. “Yes, call off the posse. The rogue groomsman has been found.”

  His voice is deep and low, making my stomach clench and my panties get a little damp.

  Is there anything unattractive about this guy?

  I take a deep breath to steady myself before joining him on the bench.

  “How’d you find me?” he asks.

  “The purple vest kind of gives you away.”

  “And you are?”

  “My name is Lily. I’m the wedding planner.”

  He scrutinizes my face. “You’re not the girl from last night. I remember her vividly because she never shuts up.”

  “That girl is Sierra, and she is my associate. And from what I hear, you were being less than cooperative.”

  “Yeah, well . . .” He scrubs at his face. “How do you do this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Plan weddings. Marriage is ridiculous. Really, how do you sleep at night, bonding two people into holy matrimony who have no business being together in the first place?”

  Ah, a bitter groomsman. There’s nothing better.

  “I sleep just fine. They’re usually divorced before the first anniversary anyway.”

  Drew’s laughter shatters the peacefulness of the garden.

  “You’re funny. And sexy. Two fantastic qualities in a woman.”

  I look away for a moment, blushing. Get it together, Lily.

  “And you’re MIA when you should be at the altar with your best friend,” I say trying to be stern, but failing miserably.

  Drew sighs heavily. “I know. Tell ya what. I’ll play nice if you save me a dance at the reception.” He gives me a grin that he must use often to get women into his bed.

  “I don’t dance at the reception. I work at the reception.” Good for you, Lily. Stay focused on the job.

  “You can take a break for one song. Let your loud-mouthed assistant run the show for the length of one song. Four minutes.”

  “Three minutes.” Wait, did I just say that?

  “Deal.”

  Shit.

  With an arrogant smile, Drew rises to his feet and offers me his hand.

  “Let’s go watch my best friend make the biggest mistake of his life, shall we?”

  I slip my hand into his. The touch of his skin makes me a little lightheaded, and his fingers tighten around mine as I try to maintain my balance.

  “You okay?”

  “Stupid shoes,” I mutter.

  “Right.”

  Drew’s cocky grin is back.

  Damn him. He already knows the effect he has on me.

  Chapter 2

  Drew

  I’m sitting in this garden, pissed as hell. How can Nick marry her? She’s just going to ruin his life. Kellie is a bitch of Titanic proportions and only cares about herself. This is so fucked up!

  So, I sit in this garden, trying to decide if I am going to get in my car and leave, or stick around for my friend. I’m deep in thought when I hear someone say my name.

  I look up and see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. She stands there wearing a simple skirt and jacket that shows off her curves. I start to imagine what she would look like in just those heels and I get lost in that thought. I could just tear her clothes off and take her right here in this garden. Nobody’s around and it would help me forget the mistake my best friend
is about to make. But, she seems pissed about something. I’ll have to try to get close to her at the reception.

  ***

  Lily

  “My dear friends, you have come together in this church so that the Lord may seal and strengthen your love . . .”

  The ceremony, with its five hundred guests, is beautiful and extravagant, just as the bride’s family requested. There are so many flowers the church smells like a garden. The bouquets have roses and gardenias, two of my favorite flowers. Everyone is decked out in their finest. There are more diamonds in this room than at Harry Winston’s.

  Sierra and I stand at the back of the sanctuary, keeping a close watch on the proceedings. I have my fingers crossed that the ceremony goes smoothly and we can move on to the reception. More than once, though, my eye drifts to a certain groomsman.

  No one should look that hot in a tux.

  I start to imagine what Drew would look like out of that tux.

  I shake my head and concentrate on the ceremony. The priest has announced it’s time for the Rite of Marriage.

  “Nicholas, do you take Kellie to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honor her all the days of your life?”

  “I do,” the groom says, loud and proud.

  I look over and see Drew rolling his eyes.

  The priest then turns toward the bride. “Kellie, do you take . . .”

  But Kellie is furiously shaking her head and backing away from her fiancé.

  “I can’t do this,” she says softly.

  Gasps and shrieks fill the air.

  “Oh, shit,” I mutter.

  Sierra’s fearful eyes meet mine. “What’s happening?”

  Before I can answer, the bride is running. I helped her pick out the hooker-heels, so I’m impressed at the speed at which she barrels down the aisle. Her mother is bawling, her fiancé is stunned, but it’s the laughter of the rogue groomsman that catches my attention.

  In that moment, I finally find something unattractive about him.

  ***

  Stars twinkle in the sky above the church’s memorial garden. The guests are gone, the vendors have been paid, and the leftovers have been sent home with anyone who’d take a dish. Sierra, devastated that her first big wedding was a bust, went home hours ago, leaving me to deal with the fallout. My duties complete, I’m now sitting in the dimly lit garden, my blazer on the bench next to me, with a bottle of Cristal I bribed from the caterer. I might have promised him dinner on Friday night in exchange. That part of the conversation is a little fuzzy. Actually, the whole night is becoming fuzzy, which is fantastic because this is one night—and one client—I’d love forget.