Malibu by Moonlight Page 2

  He smiled and glanced at his own outfit, which was jeans and a three-button, short-sleeve shirt. "It's better than wearing this," he said. "And right now, this is all I have."

  Rose let out a laugh. "Well I'm sure we have enough men traveling with us that you could borrow something or just run to the store, but it's nice of Courtney's friend to make sure you're looking good for the wedding."

  "Her store is over in Beverly Hills," Courtney said, "and I'm sure you're gonna hit a little traffic. It might take about an hour to get there, so you probably want to get going. My Tahoe's out back. The keys are hanging by the door."

  Liam looked at Jesse with a resigned smile. "You ready?" he asked.

  "I'll go too," Rose said. "I've never been to Beverly Hills."

  The three of them set off in Courtney's SUV. Daniel and Courtney hadn't seen each other in a while, and they were anxious to spend some time together, but they purposefully didn't want to be around each other much before the wedding, so he left when his parents and Liam did and headed to the house in Malibu.

  Liam, along with his Aunt Rose and Uncle Jesse, made the trek to Beverly Hills. Liam had been there before, and on the way they talked about his experience. Traffic was horrendous, and it took them over an hour to get to the address Courtney had given them. They parked in a lot about a quarter of a mile from the store and jogged in an effort to make it there on time.

  "I've always wanted to go to Rodeo Drive," Rose said breathlessly as they approached the door and slowed down.

  The word "Taylored" was written on the windows and door, clearly telling them they were in the right place. Jesse held the door open for both of them, and they walked into the store.

  Liam had glanced into the windows of several other stores on their jog, and compared to those, which were modern and sterile-looking, this one was warm and inviting. It had a vintage feel, and there were tones of mahogany and green with lots of wood and rich colors.

  "This is beautiful," Rose exclaimed as they stepped inside. She was right—Liam felt instantly comfortable there, like he could just sit down and prop up his feet. There were coats, pants, shirts, and a whole array of men's accessories, lined up in perfectly organized rows. It smelled like fine linen, leather, and wood.

  "Hello, and welcome to Taylored," a man said, coming out from behind a rack of clothing as soon as they walked in. He was sharply dressed with a clean haircut, and was wearing an inviting smile as he approached them.

  "My name is Drew. How may I help you today?"

  "We need to get a suit to match this one, please," Jesse said, pointing at the garment bag Rose had in her hand. "Two of them. For a wedding tomorrow."

  "Okay, we can probably help you with that," the gentleman said reaching out to take the bag from Rose with a smile.

  "Courtney called," Rose said nervously. "Courtney Cole. She's our son's fiancé."

  "My cousin, Daniel, is marrying Courtney tomorrow," Liam explained. He gestured at his aunt and uncle. "This is the mother and father of the groom. We had our luggage lost by the airline, so my uncle and I are both in need of a suit for the wedding. Courtney talked to the owner, I believe, and told her we were coming. She said you guys could try to find something close to this." He pointed at the garment bag, which the guy had set on a nearby table and was already in the process of unzipping.

  "Sure," he said. "We can help you with that. I see this is one of our suits. I'll let Miss Quinn know you're here since you've already talked to her. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?"

  The three of them declined, and Drew headed toward the back of the store. He was only back there for a minute before he reappeared with a smile.

  "Okay, so I'll get you started," he said. He took Daniel's suit out of the bag and hung it on a nearby rack, inspecting different things about it like the collar, the buttons on the cuff, and the lining.

  "I think she was mostly just worried about the color matching," Jesse said in effort to make it easier on the guy.

  Rose nudged her husband, silently telling him that he should let the guy do his job.

  "Yes sir," Drew said. "We have a very similar navy in our off the peg designs. I was just hoping we could get close on the cut as well."

  Drew carefully considered a few selections, trying to match Daniel's suit and thoroughly scanning Jesse and Liam as if to estimate their sizes. He retrieved a pair of pants and a shirt and handed them to Jesse.

  "We have a dressing room right over there," he said, pointing to an area on the left.

  Jesse took the clothes from him, and he and Rose headed that way. Drew then chose another pair of pants and shirt for Liam and handed them to him.

  "We'll start with these," he said with a smile, assuming that Liam knew he should follow his uncle into a dressing room.

  Liam had no idea how the guy had gotten so close to the size without asking him or measuring anything. He put on the shirt and pants, feeling amazed that they fit him so well. Liam came out of the dressing room, wearing the outfit Drew had chosen for him.

  He was still buttoning the cuff as he made his way out. He felt a little silly heading back into such a nice place while wearing his socks, but it was either that or tennis shoes, so he opted for socks. He saw his uncle right away and noticed that he had done the same thing. Jesse was standing on one of those small platforms wearing dress slacks along with a pair of white athletic socks. Liam smiled, feeling thankful that he wasn't the only one.

  Drew was stooping down, adjusting the cuff of Jesse's pants and looking like he was trying to decide if he liked the fit. He glanced up at Liam when Liam's movement caught his eye. "That looks great," he said. "That's a great start. I'll be with you in just one minute."

  "I've got him."

  A woman's voice came from the back of the shop, and Liam glanced up to find a devastatingly beautiful brunette walking toward him with long focused strides. Liam straightened his stance instantly. Her hair was pulled back tightly, and she had a no-nonsense look on her face. She was wearing dark colors—black pants, black shoes, and a deep burgundy blouse. There was a white measuring tape draped around her neck, but otherwise she looked dark and focused. As she got closer, Liam could see that her eyes were light. Her hair was the color of dark chocolate, and yet somehow, her eyes were ice blue—like the coldest winter. Liam could appreciate the contrast even from several feet away.

  "Mister Bishop I assume," she said with a polite smile. "I'm Taylor Quinn. It's very nice to meet you." She gestured for Liam to follow her, which he did. "I'll have Drew bring your things over in a moment," she assured him. She walked toward the back of the store, stopping in another changing area. Liam noticed that there was another platform just like the one Jesse had been standing on. Taylor motioned to it, asking him to step onto it, so he did.

  "Kennedy," he said. "Liam Kennedy."

  She glanced at Drew and Jesse as if she might have made a mistake.

  "My cousin's marrying Courtney," he assured her. "It's just that I'm not a Bishop. That was my mom's maiden name."

  Her expression shifted to one of understanding as she nodded. "Congratulations on the wedding," she said with a smile. "I'm sorry about your luggage, but it's a pleasure to help you find a suit. I made Daniel's, but I believe Courtney ordered the ones that were lost from somewhere in Tennessee."

  "Memphis," he said. "And yeah, we had to go get fitted and everything."

  She gave him a little smile. "Twice for one wedding," she said. "How fun for you."

  Liam stared at her and came close to saying that getting fitted for a suit was indeed fun now that she was the one doing it, but he held his tongue. He normally didn't even think such things, but it was true. He would get fitted for a suit every day of the week if she were the one doing it.

  Taylor took a deep breath, looking him over from the neck down, thoroughly checking the fit of his clothing.

  "Stand facing me with a relaxed, natural posture, please," she said, rolling her own shoulders with a serious
expression.

  She used a friendly but all-business demeanor that made her seem older than she was. She was serious to the point of verging on stern. She bent down to pick up a pin cushion that was on the floor near the edge of the platform, and when she did, he noticed that her dark hair had been twisted into a tight bun on the back of her head. It was sprayed and polished, and there wasn't a single hair out of place. She reminded Liam of a ballerina, or a librarian.

  "What do you think about the fit?" she asked, glancing at Liam. "Is everything comfortable?"

  "What? Y-yes. They are. It is." Liam hated to stutter, but he was stunned speechless by her eyes. They were like ice—the absolute brightest, lightest blue he had ever seen. If he saw them in a photograph, he would definitely think they had been edited or touched up.

  "Your eyes are incredible," he said.

  Liam knew, even as he said it, that the statement came off as a line, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself. It was the truth.

  "Thank you," she said with a small grin as if it were a compliment she heard every day.

  She went back to inspecting and tugging at Liam's shirt, and he couldn't help but continue to gaze at her face—her eyes. They were such an interesting color. He thought maybe he had seen that same color on one of those Alaskan sled dogs but never on a human. He was staring at the color of them at first, but as he continued to gaze at them, he noticed that it looked a little bit like she had been crying. Her eyes were glossy and the skin around them was a pink and maybe a little swollen. Liam was going to ignore it until she sucked air into her nose. The quick sniffling sound made him ask.

  "Are you okay?"

  "I'm sorry?" Her response was extremely professional. He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was a serious woman who conducted her business professionally. She was friendly, but there was absolutely no flirtation in her demeanor. This was slightly odd for Liam, because, well frankly, girls tended to flirt with him.

  "I just wanted to make sure everything was okay," he said. "That you were okay."

  "Yes sir," she said with a reassuring smile and nod. "I'll be right back with a jacket and some straight-cut pants. I'd like to see you try them on."

  Taylor strode toward Drew and the others, stopping to talk to them. Liam watched as she introduced herself to Jesse and Rose and pointed out several things about Jesse's appearance for Drew to consider. Drew nodded and smiled the entire time, looking like he was anxious to do whatever it was she was saying. Then she turned and grabbed a few items from shelves or racks before making her way back to Liam.

  Chapter 3

  Taylor Quinn

  Beverly Hills, California

  I didn't necessarily feel like working with customers at the moment. I didn't feel like being home, either. Grief was a strange thing, and I found myself contemplating the fact that my emotions were ill equipped to deal with it. I prided myself on not being an overly emotional woman, and yet it was the second day in a row that I was having trouble holding myself together.

  I just kept thinking about Simon—the way he would look at me with a serious expression when I talked to him as if he actually understood what I was saying. We had a lot of good years together, and I couldn't help but feel like there was a void now that he was gone.

  In one way, I was thankful Courtney had called in the favor to have me take care of her family since it served as a distraction, but it was definitely difficult to go on pretending nothing was the matter. I did my best to conceal it, but the guy I was fitting must have noticed that I had been crying because he asked me if I was okay.

  I blinked and smiled as I headed back toward him with a different pair of trousers for him to try along with a coat and vest. I handed them to him.

  "What size shoe do you wear?" I asked as he took them from me.

  "Eleven," he said.

  "I spoke with your aunt, and she said you guys were wearing brown shoes and accessories. I'll grab a pair for you and a belt so you can try them on with the suit. You can go ahead and get started. I'll bring them to your dressing room."

  "Thank you," he said. "I didn't know you had shoes here."

  I smiled at him. "Yes sir, we don't have a big selection, but I carry a couple of my favorite basic styles in brown and black." I gestured to the dressing room since he had been in a different one before. "Right this way," I said.

  He stared at me like he wanted to ask me something, but then he changed his mind. "Thank you," he said, heading to get changed.

  I went to the back to get his shoes and the size twelves for his uncle. On my way, I passed the spot where Simon's bed used to be. I glanced at the empty space for a split second before realizing it would be best for me to ignore it.

  "Are you doing all right?" Anthony asked when he saw me walk by. Anthony was busy measuring and cutting fabric so he spoke to me without looking up from his workstation.

  "Fine," I said. "Just grabbing some shoes for these customers."

  "Let me know if you need me out there," he said even though he rarely ever came to the front.

  "Thanks," I said. I found the shoes and then I headed to the front, grabbing Liam and his uncle each a belt and a pair of navy socks on my way back to the dressing room.

  "Here you go, Mister Kennedy," I said, sliding the shoes under the curtain. "I'm going to take these to your uncle. I'll be right back."

  "Thank you," he said from the other side of the closed curtain.

  By the time I got back from taking the shoes and accessories to Drew, Liam Kennedy was in the process of coming out of his dressing room. He smiled at me and I returned it, glancing at his face briefly before scanning his body to see how the clothes fit him.

  "These pants are better, don't you think?" I asked.

  "If you say so," he said. "You're the expert."

  I stood back and took a long look at him before I motioned for him to step onto the platform. I was the expert. I truly loved my job. For the past decade, I had done nothing besides steep myself in the design and production of men's dress attire. I was a firm believer that a good suit could make an average looking man into a dashing one.

  I was not only a designer of men's fashion but also a true appreciator of it. I had studied men's bodies so clinically and thoroughly that I truly knew how to dress them in a way that made them look at their absolute best. I believed in my ability wholeheartedly, and this translated to other people believing in it as well. I had made custom suits for a who's who list of men from all over the world.

  I could've probably been a dressmaker and found the same fulfillment doing haute couture, but my mother had named me Taylor, so in my mind, it was meant to be. I dove into the art of tailoring and didn't look back.

  I had studied the male form so intensively and thoroughly that I no longer looked at men with that same raw attraction most women experienced. I saw shapes and forms, and my mind dissected men technically, analyzing how fabric would lie on their various body parts. I definitely did not feel attraction toward my customers and had no problem whatsoever maintaining professional boundaries with them.

  Maybe I had done myself a disservice by training my mind to look at men in this clinical manner. Maybe I would never meet anyone I was able to see as a companion rather than a case study.

  I thought about these things as I stared at Liam Kennedy's body. He was all the things girls liked—a six-foot-tall hunk of a man with a thirty-four inch waist and a thirty-four inch inseam. He had naturally good posture and the curvature of his muscles were in all the right positions and proportions. If I were the type of girl who got butterflies from touching a perfect male body, I would get them from touching Liam Kennedy. He was a study in male form—breeding stock as they say with horses—a thoroughbred, if you will. I could have put a polyester leisure suit on him, and he would pull it off. I tugged at his trousers, making sure they fell at the correct length.

  "How do the shoes fit?" I asked.

  "Fine."

  "Are they close to
the other ones you lost in your luggage?"

  "They look a little different, but I think the color's the same," Liam said, looking down at them.

  I stood on the platform with him, straightening his collar and checking the fit of the vest and jacket. He didn't have either of them buttoned, so I reached in to do it for him. It was something I had done thousands of times, so it was with great quickness and nimble fingers that I buttoned the five buttons of the vest before holding out the front of his coat to look at the fit of the vest. "Let's take this off, if you don't mind," I said, helping him with the coat.

  Liam shrugged out it, and I set it on the nearby table before taking him by the shoulders and manually turning him around so that I could thoroughly check the fit of the vest. I stared at the overall shape of his silhouette, smiling inwardly at the pleasure of seeing quality clothes on such a nicely shaped figure. I had seen maybe only two or three other guys in my whole career who could compare to the naturally beautiful form of Mister Liam Kennedy, and I thought it was a sweet turn of events for me to have some pleasurable work on what was otherwise a depressing day.

  I turned Liam again, checking out his chest and the way the shirt and vest hugged the shape of it. I inspected every seam and curve intently, making sure I wasn't missing anything, and then I glanced at his face with a little smile and shrug. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's a really good fit, right off the peg. Let's try on the coat again, if you please."

  Liam smiled at me before stretching into the navy coat. It was double-breasted with a thin lapel, and it looked amazing on him. I was a firm believer in bespoke tailoring. As a general rule I believed that custom was best, but Liam Kennedy wore this suit as if it had been painstakingly cut and sewn specifically for his body. I smiled and shook my head as I made the motion of dusting off my hands.

  "What's that mean?" he asked.

  "It means you're done," I said. "I can't believe it, but at this point, if I made any adjustments, I would just be doing it for the sake of doing it."