Contemporary
Drive Me Crazy
By Jen
Sep 1, 2007, 21:35

Rachel jumped, dropping the cinnamon scented cigarette on the concrete. The tube of ash scattered, but the tip still glowed in the waning light. Lifting the plum satin skirt of her gown, she stamped out the danger with the sole of her died-to-match flat.

Turning to see who reprimanded her, she blinked at the sight of the handsome limousine driver at the foot of the stairs leading into the church. Twinkling eyes, tanned skin, square jaw and shoulders broad enough to hold up the world. Even in a tuxedo and chauffeur's cap he looked just this side of arrogant. But then, most men that attractive were.

"Sorry." Rachel tilted her head and gave him a half grin. "I only smoke at weddings. It gives me an excuse to skip the fray."

"I've noticed." He stepped away from the stretch Mercedes he'd been leaning against and put his elbow on the hand railing at the foot of the stairs. She stared down into his face, his eyes as dark as the moonless night promised to be. "You only put it to your lips to light it, then let it burn down."

The escape lasted longer that way. "You've been watching me?"

He shook his head, pulling off the cap and running his hand through his short-cropped dark hair. It looked coarse and unruly, probably the kind to curl if given more than an inch. "I sat outside the wedding you were in last weekend. At least your dress isn't so meringue this time."

"Oh, I know." She fluffed the skirt; thankful it wasn't the taffeta, or that awful two-tone blue from last month. She knew her friends and cousins were bombarded by loads of gruesome wedding details, but finding a decent dress for your bridesmaids should have some priority. "If I were a different kind of person I might be able to wear this one again."

"What kind of person are you?" He smiled wide, a cunning, wolfish smile, but Rachel doubted he was flirting. Or if that was his intent, he was much better at it than the creeps inside who barely bothered with innuendo.

"I teach outdoor education at Jackson High School. It's the perfect job, except for the teenagers."

"Teaching is a calling." He leaned forward, stretching his left hand on the rail. She checked out his finger and found it bare.

"So I've heard." Cute, maybe flirting, and nowhere near as rude as the single's table squatters inside.

Only a few weeks into summer and she was sick of the crowd of men who thought weddings their own personal hunting grounds. An idea for self-preservation blossomed in her mind.

"You own a tuxedo!"

He looked down at the one he wore and deadpanned, "Do I?"

Thank goodness for the constricting merry widow corset the strapless gown required. It pinched at her waist, making it uncomfortable to sit, but it pushed every ounce of flesh up and out, giving the illusion of curvy hips and at least a B-cup. So if he was flirting, he just might go for this.

"Do you work next Friday?"

"No."

Her courageous efforts to plunge herself in the singles scene made her a decent judge of character. But it was better safe than sorry. "You're not a groper, are you?"

He had a big, naughty laugh. "Not unless invited."

She chuckled. "No, I'm hoping you'd be a barrier from the gropers while keeping your hands to yourself." 

He nodded, pulling his cap back on. Crooked. "I can do that."

"All right, tuxedo man, would you like to be my date for a wedding or two next weekend?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Or two?"

She knew she'd pushed her luck. "I'm letting you off easy. I'm invited to three, plus a bridal shower."

"And how many are you in?"

"Just the one of Friday night."

He crept up the stairs one by one. "And what does that dress look like?"

"Awful. If she weren't my cousin, I would have refused to wear a bow on my butt." Her butt needed no extra attention.

He stopped one step down from the landing, meeting her gaze. His eyes were as black as polished obsidian, and he smelled not of cologne, but warm skin. She breathed a little deeper, letting the fragrance ignite her imagination. He was dark and dangerous, with a naughty twinkle in his eye and an almost drunken sensuality about him. Gorgeous, but not what she needed.

"You know what, forget it."

"Nope. You. Me. Friday. Someone else's wedding." He reached into his jacket, pulling out his wallet and flipping it open to reveal a picture of a dog. Maybe he wasn't so dangerous. He handed her a card. "Call me and let me know when and where to pick you up."

"We can meet there. I have to help Stacey get ready."

"I'll drop you off and come back later. I don't want you sneaking out for a smoke break and ditching me."

"I don't ditch." She crossed her arms across her chest, startled to find so much flesh there. "I'll meet you at the Edgefield House in Oregon City at seven. I'll be the one cringing in kiwi as I prance down the aisle."

"You wouldn't rather show up in a Jaguar?"

"You drive a Jaguar?" How in the world did a chauffer afford such a car?

"The company has a fleet of thirty cars." He stood up straighter, pulling his shoulders back. "How about a Hummer?"

"Excuse me?" He did not just ask for - for favors right here on the stoop of a church!

"No Hummer? There's a Bentley I could use."

Oh. Hummer the land tank. Get your mind out of the gutter, Rachel. You will not be humming on any of his parts, ever.

The door behind her creaked open. "Rachel," her friend Tawny, clad in the same plum dress peeked out. "She's about to throw the bouquet."

Rachel peeked down at the card, glancing at his name and ignoring Tawny's approving grin. "Thanks, Joel. I'll let you know."

She turned to go, but his fingers on her arm turned her head. "Don't catch it, Rachel."

It was too hard not to laugh. "I never do."

                            ***

With his back against the limousine, Joel Collins shook his head and stared at the door the bohemian beauty with the enchanting smile walked through. She had a refreshing, natural look that showcased her glassy blue eyes to perfection.

He watched her stand outside the old church, holding the cigarette as far away from her body as she could manage, and stare off into space. It was odd, but weddings brought out strange things in people.

It's not like he didn't have other things to do besides people watch while he waited to spirit the bride and groom away. The center console of every limousine in his fleet held enough crosswords, sudoku puzzles, magazines, and handheld electronic games to wait out any client. But this was his last scheduled weekend. Now that school was out, his summer staff of teachers and students made scheduling a breeze and he no longer needed to plug the holes.

And if he wasn't standing outside wedding receptions, he had no chance of catching sight of her again. He stared absently at the door, wishing she'd step back out so he could ask to see her before next weekend. When he'd approached her he'd meant to ask her out, but her proposition caught him off guard. He'd assumed a woman with a group of friends and family big enough to include three weddings in three weekends would have a booked social calendar, a boyfriend, and a date-in-waiting.

Instead, she'd asked a perfect stranger to be her buffer. A clue to her that made the mystery all the more intriguing. Why did the serene beauty with the captivating eyes need rescuing?

Joel breathed deep, cinnamon still lingering in the air. Even if she didn't call, he knew where to find her next Friday. At the wedding he'd coax her into a few slow dances, then talk her into something fun to break up the matrimonial monotony. Something to show him the real Rachel, outside of clothes other people picked out for her and parties she needed to fake a nicotine habit to escape. 

                            ***

Rachel chose her spot carefully. She knew exactly where to stand to limit the chances of getting trampled, elbowed, and otherwise knocked to the ground. The bride, a friend who graduated the same year, wore an off the shoulder gown, which would constrict her arms and make the toss short. Rachel allowed those in the running to step in front of her as she made her way to the back of the skirmish.

The battle ended before it began, the toss bouquet landing in the hands of a bridesmaid set to marry at the end of summer. As it should be.

Not that she was superstitious, but she'd been to enough scrap booking parties to know a bride wanted the old adage of the woman who caught the bouquet being the next to marry. As if it gave some divine decree to the brides' own nuptials. If she caught it, her friend would begin to see it as her duty to make the bouquet omen come true. Declining the dating suggestions always led to animosity. Best to nip the issue in the bud, or bouquet as it were.

Joel Collins of Cruise Control Car Service had nothing to do with it. Thinking of how he asked her not to catch the bouquet did give her cause to smile. Perhaps he had been flirting, with her and the false advertising of breasts.

No matter. The dress for Stacey's wedding wasn't nearly as flattering. It might put off someone like Joel. She needed a shield to make it through the reception with her sanity, and butt bow, in tact.

"Are you hiring a limo for Laura's bachelorette party?" Tawny sidled next to her at the table holding the half eaten tower of cake.

Laura, the speech therapist at the school where she and Tawny taught, tied the knot in two weeks. Rachel hadn't considered a limo, but it wasn't a bad idea.

"I was thinking we'd do the battling piano's at Geraldi's and then stay at the Benson. I wanted to see how much a driver would cost."

"You get them by the hour, I think, not by the distance. Didn't Grant give you carte blanche anyway? What I wouldn't give to marry a man with that kind of money." Tawny sighed. "Geraldi's is pretty tame. I know of an all male revue-"

"Grant is funding the bachelorette party on the condition there are no strippers."

"Figures."

Rachel looked out over the crowd as it began to thin. Couples left arm in arm, as if the romance of a white wedding rekindled their flame. She wondered if they felt like they looked, or if it was an act they put on for the world. She'd never once been moony or starry eyed over a man. For her, that part of relationships always felt stilted and forced. Rachel shook her head. She just didn't get it.

"Want to carpool to the sip and see tomorrow?" Tawny laid a hand on her arm. "We can figure out the details of Laura's party."

The very last thing Rachel wanted to do on a gorgeous June Saturday afternoon was sip cocktails and watch people open wedding gifts. She knew a lot of things were expected of a bridesmaid, but she let herself off the hook as soon as the reception was over.

"I can't. I'm teaching a family rock climbing class."

"School's out, Rachel. You should take some time for yourself."

"Time for myself does not pay for bathroom tile." Rachel grinned, a vision of the new master bathroom she designed forming in her mind. Joel Collins appeared beneath the full body jets of her three-walled shower and she nearly choked.

"Are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out."

"I think the corset is getting to me." She closed her eyes to settle her nerves, and instead saw Joel's teasing grin, his eyes assuring her he'd have her out of the corset in no time.

What in the world?

She did not have naughty fantasies about strangers. Well, celebrity strangers - bad boys who corrupted her dreams and indulged her fantasies. But Joel wasn't in Hollywood; he was here, in Portland. And she'd asked him out on a date. A man that inspired, well, inspired.

Rachel didn't think of herself as sexy, and neither did most men. Without the bridesmaid regalia her figure was as stick straight as her hair, except for the bubble butt that refused to budge. Spending most of her time with teenagers, outdoors, or remodeling her house didn't help matters. There was no need to bother with trying to force body into her hair if it was only going in a ponytail, or deal with make-up if it would only get sweated off.

And yet here she was, decked out like a prom queen, fantasizing about the first genuinely sexy guy to smile at her in forever. She had a hard time finding guys to date more than once. She saw no point in wasting her time or their money if they weren't athletic enough to keep up with her outside, or intelligent enough to hold up their end of the conversation.

Tawny sighed deeply, turning her shoulder to the room. "I hate weddings. They make me feel desperate and horny. Not a good combination."

Rachel's sigh was one of relief. Her reaction must be some weird wedding mojo. As soon as she got out of here, her mind would clear. "I think I'm going to go so I can get out of this dress."

Rachel grabbed her clutch off the receiving table, made her good byes, and high tailed it for her Jeep. On her way out the door she pulled loose the pearl pins holding the up-do in place and shook out the fine strands of long brown hair. The sky had darkened while she was inside, leaving a black night lit only by streetlamps and headlights of cars making their way out of the parking lot.

"Your hair looks better like that."

Joel. She'd taken the side entrance in hopes of avoiding him. Except he hadn't done anything wrong - in fact he'd been great. She was the one tweaking him from friend to fantasy.

Rachel turned to face him and smiled. "They'll be leaving soon. Her mom is rallying the guests to pelt them with birdseed. Christina will want a quick getaway."

"I run fast." Joel crossed the parking lot towards her, gravel crunching under his feet. "I've been thinking."

Rachel held up a hand. She should have figured he'd agreed too quickly. "You're off the hook."

He shook his head. "We're still on for Friday. I want to know why you're in so many weddings if you don't like them."

Good question. "I like my friends. And my family on occasion."

"That doesn't mean you have to be in the wedding party."

"A wedding is a big day for a bride. It's an honor for them to want to share that with you. The wedding part I don't mind, unless my dress is too heinous. The receptions grate on you after a while."

"Which is why you want a date."

"Exactly."

"Okay. But you have to do something for me. It's only fair."

Rachel gave him a look she hoped would keep him from asking anything that would require her bloodying his nose. She didn't want to risk him marring Christina's dress when he held the door open for the bride.

"Let's get together this week, so we won't be first date awkward at the wedding."

"It's not a date, really."

"Didn't you ask me to be your date?" His eyebrow rose.

"Yes, but not like play the boyfriend. More like hang out."

"Ah. You're not interested in a relationship."

"Not right now, no." She didn't have time. She had exactly two weekends to herself all summer thanks to the marital urges of her nearest and dearest, a bathroom to remodel and a back yard to landscape.

"That makes two of us. No strings, just fun. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I have plans." She worked all day and had a date with bathroom tile at night.

"When?"

"Why?"

"You need a date to the wedding on Friday, I have an extra ticket to the zoo benefit tomorrow night."

"Really?" She'd heard about the zoo benefit - all the high rollers in town paid way too much for dinner, dancing, and private tours of the exhibits. "Like you can't get a date."

"I could say the same to you." He stepped closer, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Have you ever stood next to a giraffe?"

The wild look in his eye appealed to her sense of adventure, making her want nothing more. "What time?"

"Seven." A grin spread across his face, lifting his cheeks.

"What do I wear?" She wouldn't have much time after rock climbing, so if he expected her to be decked out, there was no way to make it work.

"I'm wearing shorts. It's supposed to be over a hundred tomorrow."

Shorts she could do. Heck, she'd be wearing shorts anyway. And she'd get to stand next to a giraffe.

"I'll meet you at the gate at seven."