First Love - [Bridesmaid's Chronicles 04] Page 8

  "She probably is," he said. Then he kissed her very hard, very deep and very public. He broke the kiss and she gasped, trying to catch her breath and not blush all the way down to her toes. "But I'm not the least bit disappointed about being off the market."

  Oh, wow . She just about melted on the spot. The only thing keeping her remotely pulled together was the brunette's tiger eyes staring daggers at her from across the room. Catty, maybe, but Julia couldn't resist flashing a smug little victory smile. She'd won the prizeand she hadn't even known about the competition.

  Roman checked his watch, then slid off his stool, holding out his hand to help Julia down. "You ready?"

  She frowned. "Are we heading out already?" He blinked, his face deadpan serious. "You don't want to go back to the room with me?"

  "Roman! Of course. It's just we're here, and" He cut her off with a kiss. "God, I love you." He pressed his hands to the side of her face and brushed back her hair, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Believe me, sweetheart, we are going back to the room sometime tonight, and we'll go before we're both completely tired out. But right now, I want to show you a good time. What would you say about letting a good old Texas boy show you a wild night on the town?"

  She pressed a fingertip to her lips, thinking. "Hmmm. Well, if the Texas boy is my very sexy fiance, then I guess I have to say I'm all for it."

  "In that case, let me show you the way." Since the night was still young, they headed a few blocks to Red River, then turned left and walked a few more blocks until they reached a run-down rock building with a sign announcing STUBB'S BAR-B-Q

  "Dinner?" Julia asked. "It's almost ten. And I thought we were doing music."

  "Trust me," he said. "We are."

  The band was already into its second set, and music filled the air, getting louder as they paid the cover and moved through a gate into what Roman told her was the .Waller Amphitheater. Bars were set up to sell barbecue and beer. Roman snagged them a couple of bottles, then eased her through the crowd until they found a comfortable place to stand and watch the show.

  The floor was dirt and uneven, and Julia was once again glad she'd switched shoes. The place was funky and hot and not at all the kind of venue she would have gone to voluntarily. But she had to admit she liked it.

  The music seemed to surround them, the beat moving through her as she swayed with Roman. The sky loomed over them, a few stars managing to peek through the glare of city lights.

  "You like?" Roman murmured.

  "I like," she repeated. She turned in his arms. "How do you do it?"

  "Do what?"

  "Handle me," she said with a grin.

  He lifted his brows. "Believe me, sweetheart, it's a pleasure."

  His hands roamed her body, and she swatted them away, laughing. "Yeah, well, that, too, but that's not what I meant." She took a step back so she could thrust her arms out, indicating the entire amphitheater. "I mean this . I never would have come here if you hadn't taken charge. But you did, and you're right. I'm having a fabulous time."

  "Good. I like surprising you. I like showing you around, introducing you to new things."

  "And you like being in charge," she teased.

  "That, too."

  They were bantering, but there was a core of truth. She knew that Roman worked best when he felt like he had some control. He'd relaxed visibly after the dinner with the CenTex guy, once it became clear that the company could pick up the slack left by the deal that had fallen through. And she remembered their first week together, when she'd had to get a plumber in to fix a leak in one of the Inn's rooms. Roman had stepped up to the plate, completely taking over as she'd stood back, baffled by the very thought of having to deal with a plumbing crisis.

  She'd been grateful, of course. But now that she knew him better, she also realized that he'd needed to step in, to make things right for her. It was part of who he wasriding to the rescue. Putting others before himself: first his dad, now her.

  She stood up on her toes and kissed him. "You're a knight in shining armor, you know."

  "Just a knight? I was shooting for prince."

  She gave him a playful smack before they settled in to watch the rest of the set. At the end, Julia applauded wildly, just like everyone else in the crowd. "Who are these guys?" she asked. "They're great!"

  "The Gourds," he said. "Local band. Really excellent. Tomorrow's Willie Nelson. We could try to come back if you want."

  "I'd love it," she said, though she was thinking more about avoiding Marv for one more day than about seeing the famous singer live and in person. Unfortunately, the possibility of staying indefinitely in Austin was slim at best.

  For at least a few hours, though, she didn't want to think about her father. Losing herself in the music, with her fiance's arms tight around her, was a much more palatable way to go. They drank a few more beers, danced to a few songs, and laughed themselves silly.

  When Roman finally steered her toward the door, Julia realized she was dragging her feet. Herthe girl who as a rule didn't like live music because of the noise, the crowds, and the cigarette smoke that inevitably clung to her hair.

  "Maybe one more set?"

  "I knew I'd make a convert out of you." He motioned outside. "Don't worry. We're not calling it a night yet. But I thought we'd continue our tour farther south. An Austin landmark." He brushed his fingers over her hair.

  "Sounds like the perfect plan," she said. "So long as the evening involves more than just music and drinks. I want you in bed, mister." Her body already tingled from alcohol and music, and combined now with his soft touch and the heated look in his eyes, Julia wasn't sure she'd survive the night if they didn't fall naked into bed at some point.

  His mouth curved into the smile she'd come to know so well. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I think we're thinking along exactly the same lines."

  The walk back to the car was long, but they got lucky and snagged one of Austin's rare taxis. They held hands and Julia watched out the window as the driver raced the few blocks back to Mezzaluna. Buildings and people whizzed by, the blur of activity familiar. She thought it should be comforting, too, but the truth was she felt like a tourista pampered tourist, but an outsider nonetheless. She told herself it was simply because she didn't know Austin, and she really didn't know the music scene. But that wasn't it. Not really.

  Roman squeezed her hand. "Quarter for your thoughts."

  She smiled. "Worth a lot to you, are they?"

  "Everything about you is worth a lot to me."

  "Thanks." She felt her cheeks warm, amazed that he could still raise a blush simply with a kind word or a heated look. "I was thinking about that, actually. You, I mean. Or, I guess, our life."

  "Good thoughts?"

  "Oh, yeah." The admission came out on a breath, her sigh of such deep pleasure that she almost blushed again. "I was just thinking how this town seems so familiar in so many ways. But it doesn't feel like home."

  His brow furrowed. "Well, I've never been to Jersey, but from what I understand they're pretty different. Climate. Architecture. Just general ambiance."

  She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I meant home . Fredericksburg. It's small and quiet and if there's a crowd on the streets this late it's because there's some big event the whole town is involved in."

  She spread her arms, indicating the whole city. "Don't get me wrong, I'm having a fabulous time. I guess I'm just realizing how much I've gotten used to small-town life."

  "Considering I don't plan to let you run off back to Jersey, I'm very glad to hear that."

  The taxi dropped them off in front of the restaurant, and Roman gave the ticket to the valet. "So which is it?" he asked as they waited for the car. "You up for more music? Or shall we call it a night?"

  "That depends," she said. She ran a finger down his shirt, delighted by the hard feel of his pecs underneath her hand and the heat that flooded his eyes. "If we stay out, you're not going to crash on me at the end of the night, are you
? I mean, I want you awake. And," she added, taking a step closer so that her thigh brushed his crotch, "I want you energetic."

  "Sweetheart," he said, moving closer so that the length of his erection pressed enticingly against her, "I really don't think that will be a problem."

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  Don't kill yourself trying to pull together your wedding! Do you want sallow skin? Trembling hands as you cut the cake? NO SEX BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO DAMN TIRED?? An exhausted bride is an unhappy bride. And, baby, this is your wedding! So do what your mom told you back when you were a little girl: Eat your veggies, get some exercise, and by all means GO TO SLEEP AT A REASONABLE HOUR!

  from The Ultimate Wedding Resource Book ,

  Fourth Edition

  He took her to a country hangout called the Broken Spoke, a true Texas honky-tonk famous enough that even Julia had heard of it. When he turned into the parking lot, though, she was certain that he must be joking. The place resembled a big red box, sadly lacking in style. "This is really the Spoke? The place everyone talks about?"

  "This is it," Roman said, looking altogether pleased with himself. "I wanted you to see a true Texas original."

  She gnawed a little on her lower lip, wondering if she shouldn't just beg him to take her to bed. Seduction would get her out of this, right? Because she had a feeling the Spoke was a little too general store-country for her Barneys-New York taste.

  But Roman wanted to show her the place, so she sucked it up, trying to remember whether livestock was allowed inside buildings in the city limits. Surely there wouldn't be cows or horses inside, would there?

  As soon as they stepped through the front door, all of her hesitation vanished. What the Spoke lacked in style, it made up in atmosphere, and Julia Spinelli found herself completely charmed.

  They'd entered through the restaurant, and now they bypassed the food, heading straight for the long, low dance floor in the back. So low, in fact, that the singer's black cowboy hat almost brushed against the ceiling.

  The claustrophobic ceiling aside, the Spoke was everything she'd imagined in a honky-tonk, complete with good-looking men in white shirts, cowboy boots and blue jeans.

  She was still wearing a Dolce & Gabbana halter. And though she'd feared derision by a bunch of big-haired women in dusty boots and cowgirl frill skirts, she was pleasantly surprised. A few stereotypical cowgirls were warming up the dance floor, but the rest of the crowd was a mix of designer jeans and Levi's, cowboy boots and couture footwear. In other words, Julia felt right at home, all the more so when she ran into two squealing girls who looked like they were probably enrolled at the university. One of them grabbed her hands.

  "Oh my god ! Tommy Lee Jones is here. Did you see him? He's right over there, and I swear, that's Quentin Tarantino right beside him."

  Julia blinked, not entirely sure of the proper re-sponse to such unbridled, lustful enthusiasm. "That's amazing," she finally said. "Uh, good luck."

  The girl's eyes widened and she gripped her friend's arm hard. "Oh, wow. Do you think I have a chance? I mean, that would be so"

  Julia and Roman drifted away, so she didn't get to find out how "so" it would be.

  The band was set up on a platform (raising them even closer to the ceiling than the mere mortals), and the music, though country, was nothing like what Julia had expected. It had a twangy bounce and a bit of a rock undertone.

  Roman held out his hand. "Dance with me."

  She eyed the people moving across the floor suspiciously, noting in particular the way feet were moving and hips were swaying. "I have no clue what they're doing."

  "The two-step," he said. "It's easy."

  She frowned. "Easy for you. You grew up in Texas."

  "What? Daddy didn't send his little girl to Arthur Murray?"

  "As a matter of fact, he did." But ballroom dancing had never been her thing. And besides, the two-step really didn't look like a waltz.

  "Come on, Jules. How hard can it be? I mean, like the name says, it only has two steps."

  "I don't know"

  His eyes went wide with mock horror. "Well, this is a real shocker. The woman who'd never run a motel before but who tackled it head-on, afraid of a little dancing? The woman who made turndown service the new 'it' thing for motels? The woman who single-handedly arranged for the return of the horse and buggy ride to Fredericksburg? The woman who"

  Laughing, she held up a hand. "Okay, hotshot. I get it." She cast a long glance at the dance floor. "What the heck. At least the only one I know here is you."

  And with that, she took him by the hand and tugged him onto the floor. He put his arms around her and, as she had from the first time they'd met, she melted into him, their bodies fitting together perfectly, as if they were two halves of a whole.

  They were, she knew. And she couldn't wait until the wedding made that official.

  As it turned out, Roman was an excellent dance partner, seamlessly leading her across the floor. She should have known that he would be, and without even thinking, she was two-stepping right along with him. Once she even caught herself wishing that she had a pair of red cowboy boots. How fun would that be?

  As the band let loose with a big finish, Roman grabbed her around the waist, twirled her, and planted a bone-melting kiss on her. She started to pull away, all too aware of the dozens of pairs of eyes glued to the show they were putting on. But, damn it, she didn't care. She loved this man, loved the feel of his arms around her and his lips hard against hers. She leaned in, opened her mouth, and let the kiss go on and on.

  When they finally separated, the couples around them broke into scattered applause. They laughed, then danced a few more dances, until Julia finally had to beg for a break and a beer.

  "Not bad," Roman said after they both drained their longnecks. "You'd think you'd been two-stepping all your life."

  "Once I got out there, I didn't even think about it," she said. "I just let you lead me." She peered up at him, then rose on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Actually, I do that a lot."

  "And that's a damn good plan in general," he said. At the moment, Julia had to agree.

  She also had to admit that the dance was fun. She hadn't been kidding when she'd copped to the Arthur Murray classes. She'd had oodles of dance lessons, all at Marv's insistence. A little princess had to know how to waltz. But Marv would have a fit if he realized that the skills she'd learned in the ballroom were being put to good use on a dusty floor in an under-air-conditioned venue.

  What was even more shockingalthough Julia's shoes were getting scuffed up and dirty, she wasn't even close to freaking out. Shoes could be replaced. Memories like tonight well, she was going to hold on to this one forever.

  All in all, it had been a perfect night, and by the time they stepped outside and headed for the car,

  Julia realized they'd spent over two hours inside, drinking and dancing and listening to the band. And she had loved every second of it. More, she loved Roman. A given, of course, since she was marrying the man in just a few days, but right then, she really loved him. He'd treated her to an absolutely perfect evening, and as he opened the car door for her, she realized with a start that she hadn't thought about her parents, or the botched-up wedding plans, in hours.

  "Have I exhausted you?" he asked.

  "Invigorated," she corrected. "There's life in me yet."

  "Good." He shut the door and moved around the car to his side. "I considered taking you to the Continental Club, too. It's just across the street from the motel. But I'm starting to feel a little too selfish."

  She tilted her head back to squint at him, confused.

  "I don't want to share you anymore," he clarified. "And besides, right now you look energized. I want to take advantage of that before you crash."

  "You think I'm going to keel over on you?"

  "You two-stepped for over an hour." He grinned. "Syd will never believe it."

  " I hardly believe it," Julia said.


  The night became even more perfect when Roman took them back toward the center of town. "The Austin Motel," he said, maneuvering into the parking lot. "One of the city's best-kept secrets. I thought about booking us a room at the Four Seasons, but I decided you'd like this better."

  She had to admit, the man knew her well. The small motel had been refurbished with love and what had to have been a nice healthy budget. Roman had made the reservation from the road, but since they'd arrived in town, they'd been going strong, and Julia had yet to see the place. Now she couldn't wait.

  She told herself that she was just curious about what Roman considered cool, but the truth was she wanted to scope out any tricks of the trade decorating tips, layout of the reception area, the general decor. Scary to think that already her position at the Inn had seeped into her pores, but apparently, it had.

  While Roman went to the front desk, Julia looked around, taking in the furnituresimple lines, but invitingand the bright artwork. The lighting made the place cheerful, not dark, and there were kitschy things tucked in corners. It reflected the laid-back, artsy personality of the towna personality that had been somewhat battered by the influx of Silicon Valley money, but never quite defeated.

  "I could do something like this," Julia said as Roman led her to their room. "It's very flea market-chic. Some paint, a few slipcovers, and someone who knows how to sew, and I could make the Inn's lobby just as cozy. And I could do it cheap enough that even Pop couldn't complain."

  "I thought this place might give you some ideas."

  "You brought me here with a plan."

  He lifted a shoulder. "Let's just say I thought it would pique your curiosity."

  "Well, you were right," she said. She frowned slightly as she looked around some more. "Of course, Fredericksburg has a different personality than Austin. More country. More German. But if I buy from local artisans, talk to the antique dealers" She pressed a finger to her mouth. "You know, I could maybe work a deal with Homestead or someone. Display their pieces in the lobby, but keep them for sale. We'd get nice furniture, and they'd get their belongings set out in a way that featured them to their best advantage."