Marrying For a Mom by Deanna Talcott

Author:Deanna Talcott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-10-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

The wedding was set for four in the afternoon. Logan told her to be ready twenty minutes before the ceremony and someone would arrive at the condo to pick her up. She would recognize her escort, he assured her.

Beneath her sequin-and-pearl bodice, trepidation frolicked. Fingering the long, slim petals of the orchids in her bouquet, she tried to calm her nerves by taking a mental inventory of all the details she intentionally included in the wedding plans. None of which anyone would notice.

Roses, orchids and baby’s breath in her bouquet—symbolic of life, love and children. Something old: her gram’s lace handkerchief, folded carefully inside her bra, and placed next to her heart. Something borrowed: Amanda’s gold baby ring, which she wore on her necklace, with her teddy bear charm. Something new: the extravagant gown Logan had unflinchingly paid for. Something blue: the traditional blue-and-white garter.

Everything was so perfect Whitney wanted to pinch herself to make sure this was really happening. That she was really marrying the man who had stolen her heart all those years ago, that she would be a mother to his child. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, and there were times she almost wanted to wiggle under Logan’s skin to learn what he liked, what would make him happy. Sometimes she felt like she just couldn’t get close enough to him—and that disturbed her. But she vowed to change it. She silently vowed, as she stood alone at the door of her empty condo, that she would give this marriage her all.

A jingle and a clip-clop clatter at the entrance of her condo community made Whitney strain against the screen to guess what was going on. She couldn’t see anything—then a white-and-gold carriage rolled into view. The driver and an attendant sat high atop the bench seat of the exquisite carriage, the driver’s white-gloved hands held the reins of the perfectly matched white horses. He pulled back, stopping the pair in front of her narrow sidewalk. People came out of their homes to gawk—men who had been washing cars, turned off hoses and stared; children stopped playing kickball and gazed, awestruck and wide-eyed.

Whitney stood frozen to the spot, fearing she’d make more than a spectacle of herself, fearing this was too much for an ordinary person like herself.

The attendant, decked out in black coat and tails and a high top hat, swung down from the bench seat and strode up the steps and onto the sidewalk. “Miss Whitney Bloom?” he inquired.

Whitney’s heart hammered in her chest. She nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Your carriage has arrived.”

“I…” She paused, swept away by the gallantry of the moment, by Logan’s surprise. “I wasn’t expecting this,” she said shakily. “I was expecting four wheels and a motor.”

The attendant laughed, opening the door for her and offering his arm. “We have the four wheels,” he assured. “And our ‘motor’ doesn’t lack for horsepower.”

Whitney had to laugh, waiting while the attendant made sure the door was locked behind her. He stopped for a moment to make sure her skirts and train were carefully arranged.

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