Good Things Come in Tall Packages by Ann Montclair

Lucy’s breath caught and her heart raced as she studied the man across the aisle. A man she’d fantasized about, but never dreamed she would see again, especially not at the wedding of her dear friends, Ben and Maura.

Joe Connors, MD, made of the most succulent parts of heaven, was sitting not ten feet away. She smelled his cologne, a woodsy and light scent, a blend of camping, fishing, and other outdoor activities athletic, strapping men undertook. His blue pin-striped suit barely contained his enormous shoulders and bulging biceps. The matching silk tie at his throat looked to be yards long, and it still didn’t quite reach his muscular waist. His dark, closely cropped hair shone in the candlelight, and his ebony skin looked made of chocolate butter-cream frosting, the kind a girl licked off her fingers after sinful indulgence.

Lucy fidgeted in her pew and tapped her long, pink porcelain nail against her chin, considering her options. She needed to get his attention!

She could stand up, stumble, and fall dramatically into the aisle at his feet, but that was too obvious. Besides, she didn’t want to risk being rushed to the hospital. Furtive glances, batting eyelashes, and pretending to weep were completely out of character. Ignoring him, avoiding his glances and pretending she didn’t remember him might work. But would he buy it after all they’d shared that evening six months earlier?

Her final option proved to be her best course of action. She’d simply approach him after the ceremony, tell him it was nice to see him again, and ask how he knew the bride and groom.

She would bet her Chanel tufted clutch Joe was Maura’s friend. No way could Ben have hidden such a jewel from Lucy. Good. Maura owed her one. Lucy had practically hand-wrapped Ben for Maura’s keeping, and now the Amazon goddess was marrying her millionaire, and would walk off into some white, fluffy cloud of perceived domestic bliss that sounded more like torture to Lucy.

Ack. Lucy hated weddings and what they represented. She enjoyed dressing up, eating decadent foods, whooping it up at receptions, but the whole happily ever after vibe was definitely not her thing. Why any woman would want to promise everlasting fidelity to one man, to run around the rest of her days cleaning up his messes then suffer in the making of a squirming human replica was beyond Lucy’s reckoning. The day she sacrificed her 26 inch waist for any man was never going to happen.

She tried to pull her focus back to her friends. Ben and Maura were perfectly suited. Maura made Ben seem approachable, less smug, made him smile, laugh even. That old, suave, stick in the pants would undoubtedly benefit from Maura’s brand of idealism and optimism. She’d definitely be a good mother to his kid.

Check that. Kids.

The bride was already pregnant and proud of it. Ah, Maura. Lucy loved the woman, and she was awfully glad they’d become such good friends.

And now, her newest and best friend had brought Joe back into Lucy’s life. Lucy was now positive he was Maura’s guest. He’d been gawking at the bride the entire ceremony. That big lug looked positively teary eyed over Maura and Ben. She’d have to put his mind where it belonged. On her.

Lucy scanned the church and saw she had no real competition. The other ladies were wearing cheap knockoffs, not Dior or Prada. No one had her thick, short, perfectly styled platinum hair or her sky high, ultra expensive Louboutin heels. Joe wouldn’t know what hit him by the time Lucy was done.

Tick tock. When would this ceremony end?

She glanced at her diamond encrusted Cartier watch and then at the back of Joe’s square head.

It was Joe! She wiggled like a puppy on Christmas day.

Hurry up and kiss the bride, she wanted to scream.

What seemed hours later, the bride and groom exited the altar and passed through a hail of good cheer. Maura acknowledged Lucy with a quick air-kiss. Lucy swallowed hard as tears swam into her eyes. Struck by unexpected emotion, she pinched the bridge of her nose, scolding herself. Why were her fingers trembling? It must have been the excitement of seeing Joe. She pulled her gaze from the bride, allowed herself one sniffle, and honed her vision onto Joe. Lucy tried to catch his eye, but he was too busy clapping and nodding, too preoccupied with Maura. Maybe she would have to collapse into the aisle after all…

Luckily, once the bride ballooned past, Joe saw Lucy.

She beamed at him, and he did a double take before crossing the aisle, pulling her from the pew and lifting her into his arms. He squeezed her tightly, and she fondly caressed his firm torso, running her fingers over his chiseled chin and landing one finger on his full lower lip before he gently set her down.

“I missed you, gorgeous,” she said, and he laughed loudly enough to fill the entire church with his big, bass voice.

“You’re the beauty here! Look at you, Lucy. You’re a ray of sunshine lighting up a rainy Savannah day. How do you manage to look polished and perfect on a windy, wet December dafternoon?”

“Oh, stop. You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit almost fits you.”

Lucy noticed that every seam of his wool coat nearly popped from the gravity of his body. The man could afford Brooks Brothers, but he undoubtedly shopped at Sears. The frugal do-gooder…but damn if he wasn’t the most handsome saint she’d ever met.

“I got this vintage look at the Big and Tall nine, maybe ten years ago. I wore it when I graduated med school. It’s held up fairly well for the price.” He grazed his capable hands over the once-stiff lapels.

She smiled benevolently. “Ever the pragmatist, eh? Why shop at Saks when the Big and Tall will suffice?”

“Exactly. I’m glad you remembered my wisdom even though it’s clear you haven’t followed my advice that you do likewise—at least when you’re off the clock. You are looking fabulous.”

The banter in which they’d engaged at the hotel returned easily to them. Like falling off a log, she thought and blushed. If only she was rolling off his body…

“Yes, as I recall, we had quite the discussion and disagreement about appearance before we agreed our professions call for differing approaches to the issue. Lawyers must be meticulous about their look, while doctors enjoy the luxury of covering up with boring, drab scrubs. You can afford dressing casually. Let me say, though, your suit is a vast improvement!” She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows appraisingly. He was so easy to tease, and so, so easy on the eyes.

“Hey, when we met, I was wearing some nice clothes. Jeans, right? They were good ones, too. A designer brand—Levis, I believe.”

He laughed again, and Lucy loved the way his deep voice saturated her body and sent a jolt straight up her tingling spine. He locked eyes with her.

“Oh, I remember. I most certainly do…” Suddenly shy at the tone of admiration that had crept into her normally cool voice, she looked away. “How could I forget?” she admitted, her voice a whisper.

Why was she being so revealing? What had happened to her rapier wit and disdainful attitude? One look, a couple of compliments, and the man made her insides mush. That’s the very reason she’d avoided him, tried to forget him. Joe made Lucy fear her hard-earned edge would be dulled. And she simply couldn’t allow that to happen. Not ever.

“I assumed you’d forgotten me since you never tried to reach me after our one night at the Hyatt.” His voice was gently scolding, and she shrugged, trying to assume an air of nonchalance. “You knew my name and my location. Why didn’t you ever try to reach me, Lucy?”

The crowd thinned, and it became just the two of them, standing toe to toe, the only sound, the sizzling of the church candles. The dim light of the cloudy winter day shone through the stained glass windows, reflecting upon, then shadowing their faces.

Lucy felt frozen in time.

All her roadblocks fell down when she looked into the earthy honesty of his sable eyes. They stared at each other for several beats before Lucy hazarded a response. “I should have tried to contact you. I wish I had…”

“Yes,” he stated simply. “I wish you had. But here we are. Together at last…Atlanta meets Savannah. Like Maura and Ben. What took us so long to find each other again?”

Several more beats and Lucy heard her own heart making hammering sounds. She put her hand to her chest, tapped it meaningfully, and he bowed his head toward her. She knew he rightly interpreted her gesture.

Lucy was protecting her heart.

She had never given it away and wouldn’t consider doing so now. No matter the incredible temptation he provided. The little, underused muscle was a broken thing anyway, cracked and calcified in her chest. A heart not fit for anyone, especially anyone as fine and upstanding as Joe Connors.

He looked down from his towering six feet, six inches, and said, “So let’s make up for lost time. How about I escort you to Driscoll Manor, and we tear up that dance floor like we did at the Hyatt?”

That was their one evening together: dancing and laughing, kissing and cuddling. She had gone to the hotel to find action. And had she ever. She’d met plenty of sexy doctors in her day, but never one as kind, as gentle, as positively captivating as the man standing before her now.

Too bad she’d gotten too self-disclosing and maudlin before the evening ended. She didn’t open up to anyone, but Joe had located then tapped her hidden well. She had gushed out her entire life story over several martinis. And now, he was here, at a wedding of all places. In a church.

Geez, it was like a confessional all over again. The irony didn’t escape either of them.

His face framed itself into understanding. Empathy shone in his eyes, the same look he’d given her before she left him to his medical convention, to his morality, to his nobility.

She’d learned that night, she was a shark, and Joe was a blue whale, or some other poetic, non-rapacious creature inhabiting the crystalline depths. Joe wasn’t familiar with the rocky shallows or murky holes where Lucy lived and worked. She attacked enemies, and he healed them. She knew then and she knew now, they’d never be a match.

But they could have fun.

Damn it, of course they could! And they would.

Lucy resolved to lighten the mood, to undo the damage she’d done that sultry summer night and was beginning to do again.

Put on a smile. Affect grace. Don restraint. No more messy emotional looks or responses.

“Oh, we can do better than we did at the Hyatt, Joe. I didn’t like the way our evening ended so abruptly, me crying into my drink before leaving without a proper goodbye.” She winked suggestively. “I promise I’ll be a lot more fun today.” She reached up to put her hand against his warm, smooth cheek. She needed to touch him, to make sure he was real.

He bent down and captured her lips in a kiss.

Time unlocked, sped up, then settled as she opened her mouth and breathed in his tongue, his teeth, his taste. It was a slow, languorous kiss, and she reveled in the spearmint taste of his mouth and the way his lips nearly covered her chin with moist, provocative softness. Memory became recurrence.

Now.

Again.

“Joe, I can’t believe you’re here,” she whispered when he finally relinquished her mouth.

The crinkles at the corners of his merry eyes mesmerized her. She swept the tiny pad of her thumb across the lines next to his right eye, and over the roundness of his cheekbone before cupping his lightly bearded chin. He stood sturdy as an oak, and she longed to drip like Spanish moss from him.

“You’re the vision, Lucy. I’ve dreamed of you, and now, like a dainty angel, you appear at my friend’s wedding. How do you know Maura?” He paused as recognition sparked in his eyes. “Are you the legendary, sharp tongued, well heeled lawyer that Ben employs? The one she refers to as ‘the midget’?”

His big eyes got bigger when the realization that Lucy had been so close all along dawned upon him. “My, oh my, and what an incredible package you are.” His eyes roved over her face as she held his cheek.

Oh, he was a good man. He would play along; she’d flirt and he’d tease, and they’d adopt roles she understood like her legal briefs. Roles she felt comfortable with, was born to inhabit.

“That’s me: tiny, but devilishly clever, always seeking the win. Ben and Maura have both benefitted from my superior professional skills. Lucy Alcott, attorney at large.”

She forced her hand from his face and twirled in her chic, winter white, hand tailored suit, preening prettily for his perusal. The motion readjusted her thinking, put her back to herself, as if she had reversed the awkward ruminations and had changed, quicksilver, into her most lovable and outrageous self.

“Oh, I like what I see, Miss attorney at large. You are one adorable lawyer. Litigate me any day!”

They laughed together, the building tension easing, and their eyes became glossy with happiness.

“I can’t believe I never put two and two together and came up with you,” he mused. “Maura talks about you in the most glowing terms, I swear,” he attempted to mollify.

“Midget, indeed.” Lucy sniffed. “Good things come in small packages, but what would she know about that?”

Joe chortled, and she thought even better things come in tall packages.

That idea dialed her mood to joy. This was a party, after all, even if it was attached to a staid, traditional wedding. And Lucy enjoyed herself as well or better than anyone. She’d show Joe the good time gal she could be. His endearing smile, his bountiful body and his limitless kindness were bound to make what would’ve been a good time a great one.

Lucy suddenly felt like a school girl, all giggles and solicitude.

Just look at the man! He looked like a black Adonis, and his dapper darkness perfectly complimented her ivory complexion. They’d definitely be the best looking pair at the event.

She tried to compose herself, to slow her now racing heart, but she was too thrilled, too worked up at Joe’s unexpected presence, at his obvious interest and pleasure in encountering her again. Their attraction was once more instantaneous and mutual, and the heat rising between them made the winter chill disappear. This time she’d capture that fire and tame it. By the end of the day, Joe would be another “get” in her long list of accomplishments.

“Let’s go to the reception.” He gallantly offered the crook of his arm.

“Yes. Let’s go show those people how to party.”

Lucy put her hand on Joe’s massive forearm, and at his side, she sauntered down the chapel aisle.