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mail?

      A crusader?

      Christ, he’d almost rather go as a troll. The only thing he had left to hope for was finding Callie a slutty medieval gown.

      * * *

      “How does the dress fit?” Matt called through the dressing-room door.

      “Give me a minute. I have to find my way inside the stupid thing before I can tell you. If you don’t hear from me in ten minutes, send help.” Callie stared down at the mound of fabric big enough to hide a nest of baby gators and their mama in. “Make that fifteen.”

      In truth, she needed a few minutes alone to recover.

      Last night’s graphic dream involving Matt made looking him in the eye this morning pretty gosh darn difficult. Colin’s plans for publicity were growing and, as the publicity plan grew, so did the importance of this event. Now there was the potential of the story getting picked up by a local channel, so she did not need to be getting sidetracked by the killer hot looks of the brother of the groom. Still, looking hardly hurt anything...

      Until the looking did indecent things to her dreams.

      Callie pushed the thought aside and searched for the bottom of the dress. Actually, the outfit consisted of two pieces, the first part white satinlike material with a beautiful gold brocade pattern on the skirt. The second part was an overdress of robin’s-egg-blue with a solid gold band at the bodice and split in front, forming an inverted V to showcase the design of the skirt beneath.

      She slipped the first part over her head, wondering how Matt was faring with the costume-shop owner, an eccentric elderly man Callie had instantly adored.

      Callie hadn’t had an occasion to use this establishment before, but the moment she entered she’d known she’d found a gem of a resource. Not only did the owner carry a wide variety of quality costumes, he had a serious collection of props. And the stuff wasn’t cheap and flimsy, either, but high-quality.

      The huge crucifix on the shelf would be perfect for the Interview with the Vampire wedding she was organizing. Callie longed to come back and comb through the assortment of odds and ends, though the process would take some time. The owner was sweet, eccentric and carried a wide assortment of interesting items. Unfortunately, his organizational skills sucked. Searching through the racks and racks of costumes would have been easier if the shop was organized better. But their high-quality costumes made up for the inconvenience.

      Matt probably would argue no.

      A sharp knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. “Need help?”

      She bit her lip and stared in the mirror. Handling the complicated fastening system in the back would be impossible on her own. Then again, having Matt in here, alone with her. Her back so exposed...

      Say no. Tell him to go away.

      “Sure,” she said instead, opening the door.

      In a medieval costume that would do a knight proud, Matt stepped inside. And there wasn’t a woman alive that wouldn’t have been satisfied by the way his gaze landed on her figure and his eyebrows shot higher.

      He let out a low whistle. “That gown is something. You look gorgeous.”

      A flush of heat left her feeling stupid.

      Come on, Callie. Get your act together.

      “Thank you,” she said. “You, uh, look good, too.”

      Matt’s pants looked appropriately made of unrefined material. Over the crudely cut, long-sleeved shirt, he wore a chain-mail shirt. A huge sword hung on the scabbard at his waist.

      Matt let out a scoff. “Maybe, but this stuff is heavy.”

      “Most authentic costumes in New Orleans.”

      “I think I’d rather go with the cheap stuff that doesn’t weigh a thousand pounds.” He rolled those broad shoulders. “Man, how did men fight in this getup anyway?”

      “I have no idea. But at least you don’t have to wear a dress that pinches your waist to nothing and flattens your boobs,” she said dryly.

      Matt was clearly biting back a grin. “I definitely prefer the slutty Scarlett O’Hara over the prim and proper medieval princess. Allow me?” He nodded down at the laces hanging open in the back.

      She hesitated a second. Was that amusement flickering through his eyes? Gritting her teeth with determination, she then turned to face the mirror. Matt stepped closer, bringing a scent of spicy soap. When she briefly met his gaze in the reflection, a shock of awareness jolted her limbs and burned her belly.

      The intimacy of the room, the muted lighting and the strange costumes made the whole situation surreal and, God save her from her overactive imagination, a little romantic.

      Given this was Matt in chain mail with a sword at his side, a whole lot of sexy was on display, as well. Her heart did a crazy twist when Matt reached for the laces at her back.

      Crap, don’t picture him undoing the dress. Just...don’t.

      Dying to cover her nerves, she eyed him speculatively in the mirror. “Does this make you my lady-in-waiting?”

      One side of his mouth curled up in amusement. “No,” he said. “And before you get any other crazy ideas in your head, I’m nobody’s knight in shining armor, either.”

      Matt’s fingers whispered against her as he fixed the corset-inspired lace-up fastening in the back. Careful not to move, Callie concentrated on the warm brushes of skin on skin that sent currents of electric heat skittering up her spine. As touches went, this one bordered on being an incredible tease.

      His gaze on the task at hand, lips set as if in concentration, Matt said, “You sure are going all out on this. I mean—” his eyes crashed into hers “—Tommy’s my brother.”

      Callie blinked and mentally shoved her libido in a box. The most truthful explanation wouldn’t go over so well, for sure.

      Especially with Matt.

      She held his gaze in the mirror. “They deserve the wedding of their dreams.”

      She’d never meant the words more, but she also knew reciting the slogan from her website didn’t cover everything she’d poured into this event so far. And everything left yet to do. After talking with Tommy and Penny yesterday afternoon—they’d both sounded so sweet and sincere on the phone—Callie’s heart had melted more.

      In a way, her screwup had torn her and Colin apart. Years later, and she was still alone. Tommy’s and Penny’s screwups had led them to one another and now they were getting married. Their heartwarming story was one of the most inspiring Callie had ever heard. And she’d heard some doozies, stories of lost loves reunited and second chances and those who’d survived devastating illnesses to go and achieve their happily-ever-after.

      But Tommy and Penny’s tale of overcoming the effects of the bad choices they’d made struck a chord in Callie. After talking to the two, Callie’s ideas for the weekend had exploded. So now there was more work than originally planned. Not that she feared hard work. In fact, she’d grown quite used to it.

      But Matt clearly couldn’t figure out why she’d brought more work on herself.

      “I guess because I know what it’s like to mess up your life,” Callie said. “In college, I made some seriously stupid decisions.”

      The fingers on her back grew still, and Matt’s eyes met hers in the mirror again. His gaze didn’t budge as he remained silent, most likely waiting for her to go on. Callie’s throat suddenly felt twice baked and lacking in all moisture.

      “I let a lot of people down,” she said. “Including my parents. And Colin.”

      “Tell me.”

      With those words, her immediate thought was no because the story was too personal,

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