“But you kissed and slept together within a matter of hours,” the woman supplied with another scribble in her notebook.
Jordan swallowed hard. When did this become a session with Dr. Ruth?
Georgie’s pageant expression was back. “Have we qualified to advance to the next level of the wedding competition?”
The frau frowned. “What?”
Jordan patted Georgie’s back. “What my lovely fiancée means is what happens next? Will you contact us? Should we exchange numbers?”
The wedding frau waved off his questions. “I have all your numbers. I already know everything.”
“I bet you don’t know our blood types,” he tossed out, half-joking, but the wedding planner didn’t laugh.
“O negative and A positive,” she supplied.
He turned to Georgie. “Are you A positive?”
“Yeah,” she answered wide-eyed. “Are you O negative?”
He nodded.
The frau watched them closely. “You did not know this about each other?”
He shook his head. “No.”
Jesus! What kind of boyfriend, now fiancé, was he? What if something had happened to Georgie and God forbid, he needed to know these things?
The frau made another mark in her notebook, then glanced over at her wedding minion. The woman nodded and joined them with two swaths of fabric in her hands. No, not fabric—eye masks. She handed one to Georgie and the other to him.
“Come, now. We’re leaving,” the wedding frau said with a wave of her hand.
“What about our engagement party?” Georgie asked, glancing over her shoulder toward the doors to the ballroom.
“I’m sure your mother and the CityBeat founders will be able to entertain your guests and not mind your absence,” Mrs. Lieblingsschatz answered as she slipped on a pair of Jackie O-esque sunglasses and headed for the exit.
“What the hell is going on?” he whispered to Georgie as they fell in step behind the Angel of Wedding Darkness.
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
He threaded their fingers together. “What do you think about all this?”
Georgie lowered her voice. “I think I’ve heard of this wedding frau.”
“You have?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’d heard whispers about an iron-fisted wedding planner from a few happy eights couples who wrote in to thank me for helping them find their way to the altar. But nobody actually talks about her. She was an urban legend to me until now.”
He followed Georgie into the tight space as they navigated the spinning door.
“Urban legend or not, I was hoping our next stop would be our bed,” he said, knowing exactly how Alice must have felt when she tumbled down the rabbit hole.
They exited the revolving door and found a black limousine with a man sporting a do-not-mess-with-me expression, holding the door open. Jordan glanced past the guy to see the wedding frau’s black boots inside the sleek vehicle.
Georgie touched his arm and grinned up at him with her real smile, not the deranged beauty queen one, and he released the tight breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“I think we go with it, Jordan. As crazy as this has been so far, this lady still may be better than, you know who.”
“The Hydra of Denver,” he answered in a theatrical tone.
Her not quite blue and not quite green eyes sparkled. “Something like that.”
He lovingly tipped her chin up and brushed his thumb across her plump, kissable lips.
How he loved her!
The wedding frau was spot-on when she said he’d never expected to find this kind of love with anyone, let alone the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on—even in a librarian cardigan and Birkenstock sandals. He leaned in, inhaling her sweet scent, so ready to kiss the woman he was going to marry when a loud guttural sound pierced the air.
“Miss Jensen, Mr. Marks, Frau Lieblingsschatz is on a schedule,” the wedding nymph said, appearing from nowhere.
This lady was really starting to freak him out.
With a minute shake of his head, trying to get his bearings back, he helped Georgie into the car, and they took their seats across from the wedding planner.
“Please, put on the blindfolds,” she directed without looking up from her notebook.
“You’re serious about this?” he asked, holding up the silky fabric.
The frau set her notebook on the seat next to her and leaned forward. “I am taking you to a secret location. This place is only known to the very well-connected in the Denver wedding underground.”
Holy hell! There was a Denver wedding underground?
This was the nuptial version of Neo being offered the red or blue pill in The Matrix. If he put on the blindfold, the truth would be revealed.
Could he handle the truth?
Well, the truth about what he could only guess were questions like, how many bridesmaids would they need, and how not to poke someone’s eye out when throwing the bouquet. And then there was that saying, borrowed, blue, shiny, new…
Dammit! That didn’t sound right!
Maybe there was more to planning a wedding.
“We have to do this?” Georgie asked.
Somehow, the frau’s stony expression grew more stoic. “Your wedding is not only an important day for the two of you. As I understand it, several media outlets will have an interest in covering it. You two are popular like those girls on the internet, doing makeup tutorials for millions of people, yes? Like, teaching people how to get the perfect cat eye?”
He sat back and met the frau’s gaze head-on. Did she think they were a couple of bogus social influencers?
“We help people live healthy and fulfilled lives,” he corrected.
“But you write about it on a blog and then talk to a camera to share your thoughts?” she pressed.
“Yes,” he answered, sensing the frau’s trap.
“You are famous for not doing much more than discussing your beliefs.”
He shared a look with Georgie.
“We do much more than that. In our blog and with our businesses, Georgie and I help people live better lives every day, Frau Lieblingsschatz,” he answered, conviction lacing his words.
The wedding planner sat back. “Good! We understand each other. That’s what I do to help couples plan their dream wedding. So, you’re going to follow the Lieblingsschatz protocol, and that means you are to put the blindfolds on. Do not fret. We don’t have far to go.”
Georgie’s gaze bounced from him to the silky fabric in her hands before she secured the blindfold over her eyes.
“Mr. Marks,” the wedding frau prompted.
He put the damn thing on, then reached for his fiancée’s hand. What he wouldn’t do to rewind this day back to waking up with Georgie in his arms and his cock between her thighs. It was hands down the absolute best way to start the day.
An early riser for most of his life, he was always up before her. This allowed him the opportunity to brush an errant lock of hair from her cheek and pull her close while dropping kisses to her lips and chin and neck. He’d been anxious about the upcoming morning TV proposal he, Hector, and Bobby had planned. But in those moments when it was the two of them, curled together like sleeping cats, the sun barely a sliver in the sky, he’d forgotten his worries and had given in to his desire.