Four Weddings and a Fiasco: The Wedding Caper Read Online Free PDF Page A

from the street to his Victorian’s front door.
    Then, the moment he unlocked and opened the door, Myrna appeared in the hallway with the packets of information from Ken, supplemented by her own questionnaire and orders. Big surprise.
    “You could have helped her with her suitcase, you know. Suppose you’ll make her drag it all the way upstairs herself, too,” Myrna said. Then, before he could defend himself, she went on. “You both need to fill these out, then go over each other’s responses tonight. I’ll test you tomorrow. Need to be letter perfect the day after. So it’s natural by the time you check in at Marriage-Save.”
    “K.D. Hamilton, let me introduce my assistant Myrna Edison. Who is almost as invaluable as she thinks she is, and far bossier than she’ll admit,” Eric said.
    K.D. smiled and extended a hand. They resembled two of those fairy godmothers from the cartoon version of Sleeping Beauty his sister had watched over and over and over until it ground into his head, too. The short, round fairy godmother and the tall, thin one.
    Only K.D. looked nothing like a kindly fairy godmother. Nothing.
    In fairness, Myrna, though short, wasn’t as round as that fairy godmother, either. On second thought, maybe she resembled Napoleon more than a fairy godmother.
    “Didn’t think you two were ever going to get here,” Myrna added.
    “I told you not to wait,” he said. “Told you we were having dinner at the Rose Chalet, and you should go home at your regular time because I didn’t know—”
    “Had to make sure you got this information and—” She frowned at him. “—paid attention to it. Besides, I wanted to meet K.D. — or should I call you Officer Hamilton?”
    “K.D., please. May I call you Myrna?”
    “Of course.” A queen might use that tone to invite a subject to kiss her ring. “You two better get a good night’s rest. We have lots to cover in the next few days. Go on, both of you.”
    He picked up the suitcase and tipped his head toward the stairs, inviting K.D. to precede him.
    “Sure, this time you don’t argue,” he muttered from behind her.
    “Think I’m stupid?” she muttered back.
    Giving no sign of having heard this exchange, Myrna said good night and was out the door.
    “Just so you know, the idea of her waiting around to meet you? Don’t feel any guilt over that. Her apartment’s on the lower level. And don’t let her tell you it’s in the basement, either. It’s walkout level
and
she’s taken possession of the garden.”
    “You two appear to have an unusual relationship.”
    “You can say that again. Feel like an emotionally battered employer more often than not. And I wouldn’t want to try functioning without her.”
    Now at the landing, Eric turned and caught the tail end of a smile on K.D.’s face.
    It was enough to make a man want to stand on his head, do pratfalls, turn a handspring, all in the hopes of inducing more of those smiles.
    “Your room is the last door on the right,” he said. He sounded a little hoarse.
    “I can take my suitcase from here. Myrna’s gone.”
    “She’d know. She has radar or Spidey sense or something. Besides, I have to make the bed.”
    “I can—”
    “My house, my job.”
    He got the sheet set from the linen closet, pulled back the comforter, and got to work.
    From the far side of the bed, she said, "Toss the other side of that sheet over here."
    “Thanks, but I don't need help. I’m no domestic god, but I do know how to make a bed."
    "I wasn't offering help. I need to know how you make a bed. That's something a wife would know about her husband — unless she made all the beds."
    He met her gaze across the bed, saw the challenge in her face. Beneath it, though, was a flicker of vulnerability he hadn’t seen before. He snapped the sheet across the bed to let the far side float down to her. "I should let you make it yourself. So you'd make your own bed and lie in it."
    She groaned, and he grinned.
    They continued