And how did Eric always come off so cool while he was flirting so outrageously?
He didn’t lean toward Delores, and his eyes didn’t look particularly sultry at that moment, but the women’s rights activists of the world ought to propose that smirk be made illegal. That little smile could make the smartest of women into a giggling airhead in about two seconds flat. Colleen grimaced like she’d just bitten into something sour when she heard Delores’s church-inappropriate shriek of laughter in response to some comment Eric made.
“Do you think Delores is a little…ditzy?” Colleen whispered to Natalie as the florist measured the altar.
Natalie blinked and followed Colleen’s gaze. “Not really. She’s been very organized and helpful so far, don’t you think?”
“That’s before her status as a smart, rational woman was revoked by your brother.”
“What?” Natalie asked. Colleen was saved the shame of having to repeat her sullen words when Liam walked up the aisle. His dark blond hair was damp, and he was carefully removing a wet, black police-issue raincoat.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, leaning down to kiss Natalie. Natalie brushed some of the raindrops out of his short, tousled hair. Liam smiled and gave her an even more enthusiastic kiss. “Someone got stuck in floodwaters on Route 11,” he said a few seconds later. “We just got her out a few minutes ago. It’s going to be a mess later, when the temperature drops,” he murmured, his forehead pressed against Natalie’s. “I have a feeling I’m going to be working for most of the night.”
Natalie repressed her obvious disappointment, smiled and started to lead Liam toward the florist, but he paused.
“Is Father Mike around? He’s got a two-foot-deep swimming pool in the south parking lot. When it freezes later, it’ll be a skating rink. Just wanted to make sure he knew before mass tomorrow. I’ll block off the lot for him, if he wants, but I thought I should ask him about it first.”
“He was here when we arrived, but he said he had an appointment in his office,” Colleen replied.
Liam nodded. Colleen walked toward Eric and Delores as Natalie and Liam went to consult with the florist. She lifted her chin as she neared the pair, determined to ignore the way Delores looked at Eric like she was considering taking a bite out of him.
Eric glanced up and met her stare. He’d come to their meeting at the church from work and looked carelessly attractive in a pair of brown dress pants, a button-down shirt, a loosened tie and a sport coat, his overcoat slung in the crook of his arm.
“Is everything okay?” he asked her. “I heard Liam say something about flooding and closing the parking lot.”
“Yes, you didn’t park in the south lot, did you? Liam says it’s filling up with water.”
He shook his head. “No, I parked in the north lot. Next to you.”
“And I parked next to you,” Delores said, catching Eric’s gaze. “I love your car.”
Irritation spiked through Colleen at Delores’s words, at her prettiness…at her presence. “A couple more weddings like this one, and you ought to be driving one like it in no time flat,” Eric said.
Delores’s laugh was meant to captivate. Much to Colleen’s satisfaction, however, Eric’s gaze flickered back to her face.
“Are you getting him used to the center aisle of a church, Delores?” she teased lightly, trying to banish her immature annoyance. Eric could flirt with every woman on the planet, for all she cared. What difference should it make to her? “I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a phobia toward it—when it comes to weddings, anyway.”
“He better get used to it! He’s giving Natalie away,” Delores said.
“I’m getting used to the idea…slowly.”
Colleen arched her brows. “Nice and easy does the trick, I suppose,” she said quietly.
She blinked when Delores looped her wrist through the crook of Eric’s bent arm. “Maybe I better walk with you up the aisle a few times. I suspect you’re one of those men who requires practice beyond the wedding rehearsal.”
Colleen’s spine stiffened. Maybe Delores wasn’t ditzy, but she definitely had nerve. She had to remind herself that her fantasies about ways to get rid of Delores’s insipid smile were highly inappropriate in a place of worship.
“Actually, I think I’ll do my practicing in the other direction, if you don’t mind,” Eric said mildly, turning his head toward the back of the church. “I see Father Mike, and I need to have a word with him about something. Would you mind coming with me?” Eric asked Colleen.
Delores gave an uncomfortable laugh and withdrew her arm. Eric extended his freed hand toward Colleen. He ignored her wariness, of course, and touched the back of her waist when she walked alongside him. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to snarl at him for the proprietary gesture or purr in a satisfied manner that he’d touched her so familiarly in front of Delores’s narrowed stare.
“What do we have to talk to Father Mike for?” Colleen asked quietly as they approached the back of the church.
“I wanted to ask him about the musical accompaniment for the singer I hired.”
She heard the sound of children’s voices and realized for the first time that Father Mike wasn’t alone. He was escorting her friend, Ellen Rappoport, and Ellen’s two children. They paused near the front doors. Ellen was talking earnestly with the elderly priest while her children—Nathan, age eight, and Melanie, age ten—waited for their mother. It must have been Ellen and the kids whom Father Mike had said he needed to meet with in his office earlier, Colleen realized. She and Eric came to a standstill several feet away, not wanting to intrude.
Melanie glanced around her mother and met Colleen’s eye.