How to Catch a Groom Read online

  Seth realized that Desi didn’t seem interested in the equation. As a matter of fact, she didn’t say a word as she leaned over and bent his knees for him and crammed his legs into the car.

  Seth was surprised he fit.

  “If I’d done that equation I would have figured out I could fit with the proper force. See, I remembered mass, but forgot what force can do. I don’t normally forget things. So maybe the alcohol is working after all and I’ll forget this day.”

  He paused a moment. “Nope, I remember.”

  “You are definitely more of a cube than a sphere. But either way, buckle up.”

  He did what he was told, but muttered the entire time as the woman shut the door and got in the driver’s seat. He was right, she was bossy.

  That he was right lightened his mood. He’d been wrong about Mary Kathryn, but he was right about this bossy woman.

  “Where to?”

  “27 Winston Lane,” he said as he tossed the empty beer can into the back.

  “Hey, you don’t have to make a mess.”

  “Of course I do. This car expects it. I’m surprised you could get a passenger in here, what with all the junk you haul around.”

  “It’s not junk. It’s stuff I might need. I do a lot of my work out of this car and I like to be prepared.”

  “Like a Girl Scout.” She didn’t look like any scout he’d ever seen. He popped the top of another can as he chuckled.

  “It’s not that funny,” she said. “And why don’t you lay off the beer?”

  “It is funny and I don’t want to.” So there. He’d told her.

  They were both silent as the Bug drove them through downtown Erie and toward his street on the west side of town.

  Bug.

  It was an appropriate term for this vehicle. The car was little and dirty, just like a bug. Okay, not dirty, but cluttered.

  If bugs had compartments, he bet they’d be as cluttered as this car was. Seth would never have cluttered compartments. He liked things neat and orderly. That’s why marrying Mary Kathryn had made perfect sense. But now he wasn’t marrying her, he discovered that made even more sense, which boggled his mind. After all, two diametrically opposite courses of action shouldn’t both make sense.

  “Which one?” Desi asked as they made their way up the quiet side street.

  “The white one,” Seth said.

  He’d made it. He was home. All he wanted to do was crawl in his house and forget this day had ever happened. He wasn’t going to try to make sense out of what made sense and what didn’t. See, he couldn’t even make a coherent thought, so how did he expect to make sense?

  He was going to just forget about women and marriage and get on with his life. It was summer vacation and he didn’t have any classes to teach until next fall. He did have his cat and his research. Who needed anything more than that?

  Anxious to start forgetting, he tried to open the Bug’s door, but couldn’t seem to find the handle, and when he did, the door still wouldn’t open.

  “Did you lock me in?” he asked. “It would be just like a bossy woman to lock a man in her car. Bossy women like to be in control and if a man can’t get out of her car, then she’s totally in control. I bet you think I owe you for driving me home.”

  Even in his alcohol-muddled mind he realized that he probably did.

  “It’s all part of the job.”

  “Driving the jilted groom home? I don’t think so. I guess I do owe you.”

  Desi got out of the car without saying a word. She walked around the front end and opened the passenger door. “There you go.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” He tried to get out, but couldn’t seem to budge from the seat. “See, I told you your car was too small. I’m stuck. Now you’re going to have to call 911, and they’ll have to pry me out of here. Oh, that’s just great. Just one more humiliation to add to today. Being pried from a flower-child, sixties-flashback, rainbow-painted, messy, little Bug. Well, I can take it. I’m a man.”

  He popped the top of his last beer. If he was going to be humiliated again, he wanted to be prepared this time.

  Desi didn’t say a word, she just leaned into the car.

  “What are you doing?” he yelled. She was in the way and he couldn’t get his can of beer to his lips. And he needed that beer. He wasn’t numb enough yet.

  And even worse, her assets brushed against him. They weren’t huge, but they weren’t too small. They were big enough for him to have noticed them before and big enough to stick out and graze him as she leaned over him.

  The thought more than a handful’s a waste seemed stuck dead-center in his brain, just like Desi’s assets seemed stuck in front of him.

  “I don’t remember you having breasts in high school. Especially not perky little ones. Where did they come from?”

  “You’re a scientist, figure it out,” Desi said, annoyance tinging her voice.

  She moved out of the car and waited. Seth stumbled to his feet and then right into her. She barely caught him but she did indeed catch him.

  “You’re stronger than you look.” He paused, concentrating on drinking his beer while moving his feet toward the house. Maybe he was drunker than he thought?

  He might be, but Seth wasn’t so drunk that he couldn’t pick up on Desi’s exasperation. But he was drunk enough to think annoying her was sort of fun.

  Desi concentrated on keeping Seth upright as she practically pulled him up the front stairs. He was a big guy. Okay, five foot eight wasn’t huge, but it was big to her five feet and three inches.

  “I don’t need help,” Seth mumbled.

  “I know.”

  He paused and said, “Maybe I do a little. Maybe you could help by telling me why Mary Kathryn left me? We were perfect together.”

  Desi gritted her teeth as they attempted each of the five stairs that led to Seth’s porch. She had felt sorry for the deserted groom until she had to halfway carry the drunken ox. He was heavy.

  “Sometimes perfection is highly overrated,” she said, still struggling with the weight of him.

  “But that’s not logical. One should always stribe …

  strite … try for perfection.” It took him two tries to move to the final step.

  “Whoever said love is logical?” Desi asked. She might not be a scientist, but she knew for a fact that love and logic were totally opposite conditions.

  “Love? Who said anything about love?”

  Desi tried to catch her breath as she practically heaved him onto the porch. “You didn’t love Mary Kathryn?”

  “Well, certainly I do … did, but not in some romanticized context. We were friends, colleagues, and perfectly suited. Marriage was the next logical step.”

  Rather than feeling triumphant at having got her drunken charge up to the porch, Desi felt disgusted. “And you have to ask why she ran out?”

  “But—”

  She cut him off, too angry to listen to his crazy explanation. “Where’s the key?”

  “Key?”

  “To the house.”

  Slowly, hoping to penetrate his beer-fogged brain she asked slowly, “Where are your house keys?”

  “In my pocket.” He vaguely gestured with his beer toward his hips.

  “Could you get them out?” she asked.

  Seth shook his head. “I might spill my beer if I try. You get them out.”

  “I’m not reaching in your pant’s pocket.”

  No way was she sticking her hand down this drunken, jilted groom’s pants. Why on earth had she wasted her high school years mooning over Seth Rutherford?

  Back then she’d put him on a pedestal. But today, she was a little disappointed in him—disappointed that he’d been willing to marry for less than true love.

  Desi might be a romantic, but she believed that love mattered.

  She put aside thoughts of disappointment and love, and simply concentrated on the task at hand—to get to Seth’s keys and get him safely in his house.

  Engagin
g Styles might use There’s Nothing We Can’t Handle for a company motto, but when she’d come up with the idea she’d never imagined a situation quite like this. Catching the groom before he fell over was enough of a challenge. She wasn’t pocket surfing for keys, too.

  “You’ve got a dirty mind Desi. Dirty-minded Desi. Dainty, dirty-minded Desi. D—”

  “Get the keys,” she said.

  “They’re in my jacket pocket.” He jiggled his left shoulder.

  “Oh.” Desi retrieved the keys from his jacket. Anything to get him in the house.

  She unlocked the door and Seth didn’t wait for her to help him, he practically bounded into the house.

  Drunken men would do well to remember that thresholds were not level with porches, she thought as his bound turned into a fall, right onto the slate entryway floor and right onto a rather irate cat. His beer splatted against the slate, hitting both Seth and the cat.

  “Mreow,” the cat cried and started hissing at Seth’s prostrate form.

  “Sorry, Schrodinger,” Seth muttered.

  Schrodinger the cat stalked from the room, apparently not willing to accept Seth’s apology.

  Desi stared at the crumpled mass on the floor. The only thing that kept her from kicking him was a sense of pity, despite what she’d said. A man whose bride had run out on the wedding deserved at least a bit of compassion.

  “Come on, Seth, let’s get you to bed,” she said.

  “I can’t go to bed with you, even if you have totally waste-free breasts. I’m not that kind of a guy.” With that, he simply lay on the floor and closed his eyes.

  “Seth, come on. You can’t sleep here.”

  “Sure I can.” He curled into a little ball, and pillowed his head on his elbow.

  “You’ve got to get up.” Desi tried to pull him, but he didn’t budge. She dropped his arm. She wasn’t going to be able to get this guy on his feet until he wanted to get on his feet. And it didn’t appear he wanted to.

  Darn. Now what?

  Desi sank on the floor across from Seth’s prostrate form. She glanced through the doorway into his living room. There wasn’t much to look at. It was functional and orderly. She doubted she’d find even a stray crumb in his couch cushions.

  The foyer light illuminated the room. It wasn’t enough to tell if there was any color on his walls, but she doubted it. It was probably plain, neutral white. No imagination or passion anywhere.

  Seth’s cat crept cautiously onto her lap. She stroked the ugly tabby’s damp fur.

  “You okay, Schrodinger?” She couldn’t resist smiling at the cat’s name.

  There was a twentieth century physicist who’d come up with a theory called Schrodinger’s Cat. Okay, so it was an odd sort of humor. Certainly not something most people outside the field of science would get. But she got it and she liked it.

  Desi wasn’t sure why Seth’s quiet sense of humor pleased her, but it did.

  She looked at him. His blond hair—which would be more at home on a beach-boy than a stodgy professor—spilled over his forehead. Gently, she pushed a stray lock back in place.

  She hated leaving him lying on the floor, but Seth Rutherford wasn’t her concern. She’d seen to it that he made it home safe and her job was officially done.

  She could leave now and forget all about him.

  Chapter Two

  There was only one rule for Wednesday night dinners at Hazard’s—men weren’t invited.

  Desi took a large bite of her four-cheese lasagna, savoring every fat-producing calorie.

  Mary Jo Mills, Pam Steele and Desi met at Hazard’s down on the bay every Wednesday night for dinner. The food was out of this world and the restaurant’s deck was situated right on the bayfront walkway.

  Mary Jo, Pam, and Desi. They’d been friends since high school. Actually, they’d been more than friends, they’d been sisters.

  Mary Jo was the girl Desi’s parents had always wished they had. A professional and a mother. She worked as a chemist and balanced four kids and a husband.

  Pam taught music and was as single as Desi. She said music was easier to figure out than men … but that didn’t stop her from trying.

  Their interests were different, but their friendship was strong, even after all these years.

  “So, how was last weekend’s wedding?” Mary Jo asked.

  “The wedding was a disaster,” Desi moaned.

  “Oh, no. What happened?” Pam glanced at a man in a business suit and whispered, “Silk boxers at three o’clock.”

  Mary Jo and Desi both stole a glance at the James-Bond-wannabe and nodded agreement.

  Desi answered, “A runaway bride. I’ve never lost a bride before. Phil wanted to tackle her, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do.”

  “I’m assuming she ran before the I-do’s?” Mary Jo asked as she sipped on her margarita.

  “Oh, yeah. Left the groom standing at the altar. She seemed nice enough when I worked with her planning the wedding. Well, I didn’t exactly plan it with her, but with her mother and sister. They seemed to run the show. But she still seemed nice. Maybe she was a little more nervous than most brides. But no matter what, running out on the wedding? No one should be left at the altar like that. Part of me wanted to let Phil tackle her. I felt so bad for the groom.”

  “Oh, the poor man. Was he cute? Maybe you should introduce us and I can comfort him,” Pam said.

  The idea of Pam comforting Seth didn’t sit well.

  “Cute?” Desi repeated.

  She knew she could rhapsodize on just how cute he was. She’d done it often enough in high school. This was the perfect opportunity to mention the groom was Seth Rutherford. Given the intensity of her schoolgirl crush, she was pretty sure Pam and Mary Jo would remember him.

  But Desi didn’t mention knowing him or her schoolgirl crush on him. She knew Pam and Mary Jo would make a big deal about it, would want every tiny detail. And she could imagine what they’d say about her driving him home. No, if she didn’t want to think about Seth Rutherford, she certainly didn’t want to talk about him. And since there was nothing to tell, mentioning him would be unnecessary.

  So, instead of telling them the groom was Seth, she spotted a middle-aged man sporting an earring and wearing clothes that would look more at home on a twenty-year-old and picked up their game. “Silk bikini underwear. He’s trying to prove something.”

  “It’s not working,” Pam said with a laugh. “I like guys who are more comfortable with who they are. Who don’t have anything to prove.” She scanned the crowd and pointed to a thirty-ish man wearing jeans and a rugby shirt. “Now, take Mr. Rugby for instance. He looks very comfortable with who he is.”

  “Boxers,” Desi said. “Cotton boxers. Bet he has some funny ones in his drawer. Heck, a guy like that would even wear the kind with little pink hearts on them. To him, they’re just underwear.”

  “Dare me to ask what he has on tonight?” Pam asked.

  “Pam, behave,” Mary Jo scolded in a mommish voice.

  “There was a time you’d have been the one asking him,” Pam said.

  “But that was before I got married. Happily married to a perfect man. Speaking of men—” Mary Jo started.

  Pam interrupted. “That does seem to be what we talk about the most on Wednesdays, have you noticed? Talking about them, watching them … What is it about men that makes for such fascinating discussions? Your deserted groom, for instance, Desi. I could spend an entire evening talking about him. My heart goes out to him. Tell us more. What did you do after the bride left? What did he do?”

  “There’s not much to tell. He was a good sport and invited everyone to the reception since it was paid for.”

  “That’s classy,” Pam said. “I like classy.”

  “So how was your week?” Desi asked Mary Jo. She was anxious to turn the conversation from Seth.

  “My week? It was hellish enough to make my mother feel vindicated that her curse—you know, the one where she said, someday
I hope you have kids who behave just like you—worked,” Mary Jo said picking up the conversation, just like Desi had hoped she would.

  “The kids were in rare form,” she continued. “I swear to Pete, one of these days someone is going to turn us in for breaking some sort of noise ordinance. Let’s see the injuries of the week included one human bite, one bruised knee, and a brush burn. But the big news is Paulie got a call from a girl. He …”

  Mary Jo started entertaining Pam and Desi with her kids’ exploits, and though Desi made an attempt to follow the conversation, she couldn’t help but think about Seth.

  She’d spent a great deal of time thinking about him since Saturday. She wasn’t sure why, other than she felt bad for him.

  Mary Jo talked about her son’s call from a girl and Desi couldn’t help but remember that one time she’d called Seth’s house. Thank goodness it had been before the days of Caller ID.

  She’d dialed, fully intending to ask Seth to the Spring Fling dance. His mother had answered. “Hello?”

  Desi had sat there, trying to catch her rapidly fleeing breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

  “Well, I never. How dare you call and breathe in my ear!” Seth’s mother had exclaimed right before she hung up on Desi.

  Desi lost her nerve and didn’t call back.

  What would have happened if she’d found the courage to ask for him and asked him out?

  She’d never know and that was probably a good thing. Some things were better left in the realm of fantasy. She had a feeling her girlhood crush on Seth Rutherford was one of them.

  “But Paulie’s phone call wasn’t the highlight of the week. My flowers were.”

  “Flowers?” Pam asked.

  “A dozen roses.” Mary Jo looked a little misty as she took a sip of her drink. “The card said, You’re beautiful. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?”

  Mary Jo and her husband, Paul, were Desi’s relationship role models. They worked together in the same lab. They shared a family and still had an incredible, romantic passion for each other. Why, he even sent her flowers saying he still though she was beautiful. That was romantic. It made Desi’s heart melt a little, thinking of their true fairytale romance.