Marry Me at Christmas - Page 48/83

Ella blushed. “It was just an idea. I had to order this specially. It took months.”

“You’re smart to wait for quality. Too many people are impatient.” He flashed her his best smile. “Congratulations.” He put down the veil.

“Would you mind taking a picture with me?” she asked.

“I’d love to. Will you wear the veil?”

“What? Oh, that’s a great idea.” She turned to Madeline. “Help me put it on?”

Madeline flashed him a grateful look, then helped Ella secure the veil. Jonny took several pictures with her, then signed an autograph for her fiancé. Ten minutes later Ella and her veil left the store, but not before the bride thanked Madeline for helping her get exactly what she’d always wanted.

When the door closed behind her, Madeline turned to him. “I can’t decide if you’re gifted or the devil.”

“Can I be both?”

She leaned against the table and sighed. “Thank you. Things were getting out of hand.”

When she didn’t say any more than that, Jonny realized she wouldn’t talk about a customer with him. But he’d seen enough to fill in the details. Having to eat a customer order that big would have devastated the profits for the month. Maybe the quarter. Paper Moon was successful but still a small business. He would guess the margins were small.

“I promise not to order a custom veil for Ginger,” he told her.

“There isn’t time, but either way, thank you for that, as well.” She picked up the paperwork and started for her office. “What brings you into town today?”

You.

He only thought the word rather than speaking it, but it echoed in his head all the same. As they sat across from each other in her small, plain office, he saw the way she glanced at him, then away. There was a slight stain of color on her cheeks. While Ella had been around, Madeline had been completely professional. Now that they were alone, he liked to think that she was remembering what had happened between them the previous night.

And while that was nice to dwell on, there was still her question to answer.

“The toys,” he said, mentioning the first reasonable topic that came to mind. “I want to donate them to the toy drive, but they’re not ready. They need to be painted.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten. They’re wood?”

He nodded. “I have some child-safe paints but there’s no way I can get everything done in time. Do you know someone I could hire?”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not how we do things around here,” she told him. “You don’t hire someone else. You have a paint party.”

“A what?”

“A paint party. I put the word out and a dozen or so people show up for a few hours to get the job done. If we need more hands than that, I simply call more people.”

“No way.”

She smiled. “Way. How many toys are you talking about?”

“Close to fifty. Want to come see them? You haven’t been to the house. You should probably look at where the wedding is going to be.”

Did he sound casual? He wanted to. He didn’t want her to know how his palms were suddenly sweaty. He swore silently, trying to remember that he’d met heads of state and dated supermodels, not to mention a princess or two. So why was he nervous about inviting Madeline to his place?

“You’re right,” she told him with a laugh. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen where the wedding is going to be. And here I thought I was doing a good job. Yes, I need to see your house and the toys. When’s a good time?”

“What about now?”

He expected her to tell him she couldn’t possibly. Instead, she stood. “I have a free afternoon. Let me tell Rosalind that I’m going to be gone a couple of hours.”

“You’ll need your coat. It’s snowing.”

* * *

Madeline sat in the passenger’s seat of Jonny’s SUV and told herself that there was no way the snow was more sparkly than usual. That it was just her imagination. Something that until she’d met him, she’d never had any problem controlling.

Now, as they drove up the mountain, she watched the magical flakes dance and twirl as they fell to the ground. Holiday music played from the speakers. She was alone with a handsome man who made her laugh and it was snowing. Did moments get more perfect than this?

“Do you have a lot of clients like Ella?” he asked.

“Not usually. Sometimes a bride doesn’t like the dress when it comes in. We try to work with her on that. There’s usually a time crunch, so it’s often faster to have the gown altered than to start over. You’d be amazed at what a great seamstress can do. A veil is different.” She looked at him. “Thanks for your help.”