Here Comes the Bride Read Online Free Page B

that should tell her father something about the woman he was about to marry.
    Nick dropped in the last dish, then snapped the dishwasher closed and crankedthe dial to WASH before he answered. “No, Auntie refused even to consider it. She said she and Walter didn’t need any silly piece of paper like that, they were in love.”
    Winnie went up a notch or two in Fiona’s estimation. “Good for her.”
    “Good for …? I thought you were as much against this wedding as I am.”
    Fiona put her hands on her hips. “I just believe that if two people are going to marry, they should first and foremost trust each other.”
    He studied her warily for a long moment. “It isn’t going to happen—the wedding, that is. Come on, we’ll say our good-byes to the happy couple and get out of here.”
    “Look, Nick, I don’t know what kind of a plan we can come up with by tomorrow. Maybe I should just try to talk to my father and you talk to Winnie and—”
    “And you think that will work?”
    “It may.”
    “And if it doesn’t?”
    Fiona gave a long, shuddering sigh. “Then we—”
    “Burn down the gazebo?” Nick supplied.
    She frowned.
    “Come on.” He took her by the elbow.
    “We’ll think of something.”
    As they passed the bright yellow wallphone in the kitchen, it jangled. “I’ll get that and be right out,” Nick said.
    Fiona trekked off through the cool interior of the family room. As she made her way around the breezy rattan furniture, she wondered how her father would ever be comfortable in this house. She tried to picture just where Winnie would park his battered old recliner with the worn seat cushion, the one Fiona knew he’d never part with.
    She dragged a hand through the thick sweep of her hair. Of course, she hadn’t believed he’d ever eat rutabaga and lamb either—and tonight he’d polished off Winnie’s kabobs like he was a man starving.
    With a frown she started toward the patio.
    “There you are, Fiona,” Winnie greeted her. “I need your advice about the flowers. Walter’s no help at all. Where’s Nicholas?”
    “He’s on the phone.”
    “Oh.” Winnie glanced toward the house for a moment, then turned her attention back to the gazebo. And Fiona. “I thought we might place a basket of orange blossoms on either side of the minister and trail pink flori-bundas over the side latticework. What do you think? I need a woman’s opinion.”
    Fiona would prefer not to give her opinion, but short of being rude, there was little else she could do but follow her soon-to-be stepmother across the green carpet of lawn.She tossed her father a visual plea for help before she did so, but he only returned it with that silly smile he’d been wearing lately.
    “Auntie,” Nick called from the patio. “It’s Camille on the phone.”
    “Camille?” Winnie squealed, and was off like a shot to take the overseas call.
    Nick had brought a cordless phone outdoors and handed it to his aunt.
    While Winnie chatted and motioned frantically for Walter to join her, Nick sauntered across the lawn to Fiona. “We’re not going to be singing the ‘Wedding Bell Blues’ tomorrow after all,” he said, draping an arm around her shoulders.
    Even that simple touch set off a chain reaction of emotions in Fiona. Tempestuous, wild emotions. “What are you saying?”
    “Camille has decided to come home for the wedding and she wants us to hold up everything until she gets here.” He lifted Fiona’s chin with the tip of one finger. “That buys us the time we need.”
    Fiona won fifty-three dollars playing the dollar slots at Caesar’s, then promptly lost it all again. “Easy come, easy go, I guess,” she said, turning to Nick.
    A sexy smile rolled across his lips. “The secret of this town is to know when to quit.”
    “It looks like the time is now,” she said in dismay as she dipped her hand into the metal tray of the machine that a few moments before had held the easily gotten loot, and came up