Page 8 of First Date: Divorce (Wyoming Marriage Association #1)

Pauline certainly wasted no time.

Not in eating her eggs and not in putting them to work.

“Let’s go over that again. You need to have this perfect.”

Eric groaned. K.D. stifled an urge to echo him, then because Pauline was correct, she recited, “Eric Joshua Larkin, no food allergies, sleeps on the left side of the bed, mint floss, Merlot not Riesling, football to watch, tennis, racquetball, softball to play, classic rock, country, classical — is there any music you don’t like? ”

“Not fond of elevator music.”

“No elevator music. Fruit but not fruit salad. Tomato juice, not orange juice. Believes he makes the best scrambled eggs ever.”

“I do.”

“They really are good.” She held up a hand as if he’d been the one to wander off topic.

“Son of James and Serena Larkin, who now live in New Mexico. Close with his sister Mariana, although she lives in Virginia. Mariana and her husband, Dan, have two kids, Seth, 4 and Emma, 8. Loves being an uncle—”

“Would like to be a father. Someday.” Then he started his catalogue on her. “Katherine Denver Hamilton. Middle name because mother loves John Denver’s music.”

“You don’t need to volunteer that to anyone.”

“Nothing wrong with his music.”

“I meant the complete name.”

His mouth didn’t move, yet his face lightened. “A husband would know. No food allergies. Seafood, red meat, and Tex-Mex, no sushi. Only child of a single mom. Things were tight financially. Earned impressive academic scholarships. Mother married for the first time right after you finished college.”

She withstood the temptation to repeat he didn’t need to volunteer that last part.

His assistant clicked her tongue. “Great. You know a few facts about each other. We’ve barely started.”

“We’re supposed to be on the verge of a divorce, Pauline, so it makes sense if we don’t really know each other. That’s the whole point.”

K.D. overcame a temptation to agree with him. Agreeing with him wasn’t what this was about, that was for sure.

Pauline propped her hands on her hips. “Okay, you two, you think you’re so ready for this — how did you meet?”

They looked at each other, then away.

“C’mon, c’mon. Every couple in the world — even the ones that end up hating each other — have a story about how they met.”

How had Eric and his ex met?

The question popped into K.D.’s mind, definitely uninvited and sneaky-fast. None. Of. Her. Business. Not to mention, not important to the assignment.

“We met on the job,” K.D. started. “Since I was an insurance investigator at the time according to the bio you wrote, that could work.”

“Not with you making a face when you say insurance investigator,” Pauline said to her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Eric said. “It would explain why she married me. To get away from a job she didn’t like.”

“Great. I’m not only not a cop, I am a gold digger.”

“All part of the role.” He leaned back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Says the man who gets to keep his profession as a lawyer, his home here in Bardville, and his stellar assistant.”

“Hah! She’s only known me a day and she appreciates me,” Pauline shot at Eric.

She turned back to K.D. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you plenty to make you want to divorce him.

In the meantime, you met through me. That adds believable detail.

I knew K.D. from where we lived. I’ll show you pictures of the place later, K.D.

I thought K.D. was real nice and I knew my boss was in danger of becoming a grumpy old man before he hit thirty-five. ”

K.D. cut a look toward Eric.

On the surface, he looked like a man pretending not to care about an irritation buzzing around him. But beneath that lurked … what? Amusement? Affection?

Whatever it was, Pauline seemed to know it existed and to rely on it. She sure wasn’t fooled by the not-caring pose or intimidated by the would-be irritation.

“Next, you need a relationship history.” Pauline looked up.

“Don’t stare at me, you do. How you got from meeting to falling in love to marrying to the mess you’re in now.

Yeah, you need a problem, like you said Cully said, and that’s what the counselors will sink their teeth into, but they’ve gotta know the rest of it, too. ”

Eric muttered a curse.

“Tal emphasized to stick as close to reality as possible,” K.D. said.

“In that case, we met and got married fast, before we knew each other at all,” Eric said dryly.

She cut off a huh of amusement to say. “Actually, that’s a good idea.

It trims the stretch of good times in the relationship we’d have to create a story for.

Meet, get married fast, honeymoon period, then bam , the problems start.

So we don’t waste our efforts on good times and can concentrate on problems.”

“Sure is true to life,” Eric said.

Pauline scowled, divided equally between the two of them. “Cynicism about relationships is not attractive. No wonder you two were available for this assignment.”

Eric snorted. “Ever since you and Gramps started carrying on, you think you’ve got a direct line to Cupid.” He looked at K.D. “They met when a group of us were snowed in at Gramps’ store at Christmas. He started off less than hospitable, but it turned out …” He smiled slightly. “Memorable.”

“Gramps and I are not carrying on. We enjoy each other’s company.

If it deepens into more I will consider myself fortunate to have a second such relationship after my happy years with Chuck.

” From those lofty, dignified heights, she added, “And you could do with carrying on yourself, Eric Larkin. You, too, probably,” she unexpectedly shot at K.D.

, “though I don’t know it for a fact like I do with him.

“You can use Eric wanting kids and K.D. not wanting them as your problem — sorry K.D., nobody around here would believe he didn’t want kids after hearing about our Christmas and how he pitched in making it great for the kids who were there.”

Grif, Ellyn’s husband, also suggested different views on wanting kids as a potential issue. Combined with Eric’s reaction, it seemed a likely culprit in his divorce.

“But,” Pauline went on, “there’s all the rest of it. So, let’s get back to it before K.D. has to get to Far Hills Ranch for a fitting, not to mention if you want to get into town for shopping later. Tell me again, how’d you two meet?”

*

Today, Rebecca directed K.D. to a den off the living room of the Far Hills main house for the wedding dress fitting.

“No mirrors, so you won’t be tempted to look,” Rebecca said. “I’m determined to make this a surprise.”

K.D. didn’t feel tempted to look. Even when a smile lit Ellyn’s face and Kendra whistled.

She had never gone through that little girl phase of delight by weddings. Probably a result of her native pragmatism, strong even in childhood, crashing up against her mother’s Cinderella dreams, undiminished even in adulthood.

But her feeling about weddings and wedding dresses did not contribute to this investigation, so she kept that to herself.

“It’s gorgeous.” Kendra snapped a couple photos.

“Sure is,” Ellyn said.

K.D. said, “I think you’re trying to rub it in that Rebecca’s not letting me look.”

“Turn,” said the woman with the pins. “Quarter turn to your left.”

K.D. obeyed.

“Now, hold still.”

Ellyn chuckled. “Maybe rubbing it in a little. But I’m here for a reason, too. We need you to taste samples.”

“Hey, I’m here for a reason, too,” Kendra insisted.

But K.D. nearly drowned her out with a moan. “I’m still stuffed from last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” The question would have come in triplicate, except Rebecca’s pronunciation suffered from the mouthful of pins.

“Eric made great scrambled eggs and bagels.”

Aware of a sudden increase in interest from the other women, she quickly added, “For a working breakfast with Pauline drilling us on what we should know about each other — our fictional selves. As for samples, we agreed yesterday you should serve whatever you think best. You said you were good with that.”

“I am. And we’ve got that all covered. But this is to sample cakes.”

“Cakes?” K.D. twisted to look at Ellyn.

“Hold still,” ordered Rebecca. “Face the desk, not these two distractors. Not even over your shoulder.”

“Wedding cakes,” Ellyn clarified.

“But—”

“It’s a wedding. There has to be a wedding cake. And it has to reflect the couple. Eric’s waiting for you to sample so you can make a decision together.”

K.D. heard an altered thread in Ellyn’s tone. Surely she didn’t think … anything.

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

“Don’t do that,” Rebecca pin-mumbled.

“Don’t care as long as the cake’s not banana,” she said.

“Why not banana?” Kendra asked immediately.

“My mother got horribly sick on a banana when she was pregnant with me and she swears that’s why I’ve hated them all my life. The smell, the taste, everything about them.”

“How strange,” Rebecca said. “Quarter turn.”

That brought K.D. around to face the other two women.

“Good. Now I can measure.” Kendra stepped forward with a measuring tape and tangle made out of metal hangers.

“Measure?”

“Have to see you in the dress to see the proportions for the bouquet. I can adjust the form for a visual, but I like to measure, too.”

K.D. frowned. “There’s no need for all this. We only need a few photos.”

“Doing this wedding right will give you a firm foundation,” Ellyn said.

“This wedding is the part we can help with.” Kendra spread the tape measure across K.D.

’s waist. “You and Eric are doing the real work in protecting people who come to Marriage-Save, not to mention our community. All we can do is give you a realistic wedding so the photos and video help your cover story. We’ll do that the best we can, so you two don’t need to give it a second thought. ”

The others agreed. K.D. didn’t know what to say. The guys she worked with would lay down their lives for each other and for her. But support in something less drastic wasn’t their way. Not unless they could hammer, shovel, or rev it.

Rebecca saved her from needing to respond.

“Got it,” she announced. “Let’s get you out of this — carefully — and eat cake.”