Crazy Love (34 page)

She could hardly remember her first wedding, had deliberately blocked the memory like a trauma survivor and standing here, on the verge of getting married again, she wanted to imprint every minute detail of this event into her memory banks.

Hank stepped through the marquee entrance, a dashing figure highlighted against the snowy whiteness and her breath caught.

This man was her destiny.

She’d never been surer of anything.

“Where’s Sierra?”

“Gone for a walk,” Hank said, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. “That means we’re alone at last.”

She leaned back, calmed by the solid warmth behind her. “Is this really happening?”

“Sure is. You’re going to be Mrs. Hank Warner in a few days.”

He nuzzled her neck, sending a flood of warmth through her. “Unless you’d prefer Mrs. Hank Stevens?”

“Stop it.” She twisted in his arms to face him, tried a mock frown and failed. “No more secrets between us ever again, remember?”

Hank’s grin slipped and he glanced away, as if hiding something. “I remember…”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

She couldn’t handle any more surprises, not at this late date. Planning this wedding had seen her flit from composed to crazy, which showed how much it meant to her.

He sighed. “Okay, guess I’ll have to tell you. Marc’s coming to the rehearsal.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he told me not to tell you. He wanted to keep it a surprise. So, surprise!”

“That’s wonderful.”

Not only would she get to spend a few extra days with her son, it would give them a chance to talk and hopefully give Marc the impetus to sort things out with Sierra, who hadn’t been the same since he left.

The young woman had been a whiz in helping her plan the wedding, throwing herself wholeheartedly into the role of wedding coordinator. Despite her forced bravado, Olivia had seen right through her.

Sierra looked like a woman who’d loved and lost.

So much for Operation Love Match.

“When’s he arriving?”

“Some time tonight.”

As the words left Hank’s mouth, she heard a car pull up outside.

“Do you think it’ll be okay, with Sierra here?”

As much as she wanted them to meet, perhaps now wasn’t the time? If she were Sierra she’d want to be prepared, mentally more than physically.

Not that the young woman ever looked anything less than perfect but according to Flo she’d chosen a stunning dress for the wedding which meant she was out to make an impression.

Hank winked and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Better than okay. Why do you think I invited her out here to help you tonight even though everything’s under control?”

“You conniving old romantic,” she said, snuggling into his chest.

“Enough of the old stuff.” He nuzzled her neck. “What say you and I greet Marc then make ourselves scarce? I saw Sierra head into the barn before, so looks like she’s fiddling with Tommy, which means she’s doing some serious thinking out there.”

“Good idea. Maybe I can send Marc out to the barn to grab me a crate of spare glasses I’ve stored there.”

“But you haven’t stored anything there—ahh…” He tapped the side of his temple. “You’re a genius.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

The doorbell rang and they grinned at each other like co-conspirators.

Crossing her fingers her son would find the happiness he deserved, she winked. “Will you get the door or shall I?”

Sierra strolled around the periphery of the barn, her fingers trailing along hay bales as she planned her attack.

Her surrender, more likely. She’d done enough attacking last time she’d seen Marc and look where that had got her. Alone, frustrated and miserable.

Pretending to be upbeat while everyone around her found true love was tiring and though she’d never begrudge Hank, Olivia and Flo’s happiness, her face ached from smiling.

Once away from her friends her mood disintegrated to downright grouchy. Even Belle had grown tired of her moodiness, standing her up for their last two dinners.

Not that she could blame her. Her woe-is-me routine was wearing thin. She didn’t know how she lived with herself in this pathetic state.

“Snap out of it,” she muttered, laying a hand on Tommy, enjoying the feel of cold, hard metal beneath her fingertips, though hot, hard muscle would be her preference any day.

“Talking to yourself is the first sign.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Marc’s voice and she resisted her first impulse to run into his arms.

He looked incredible, standing in the doorway as if he owned the world; a god dressed in denim, white cotton T and black leather jacket.

Make that a devil as his lips curved into the slow, sexy smile she remembered so well, the same smile that set her heart racing without trying.

“First sign of what?”

She managed to keep her cool, ensuring her voice didn’t quiver as she smoothed the DKNY silk dress clinging to her hips, grateful she’d changed before coming over.

If she couldn’t impress him with the slinky black Valentino she’d chosen for the wedding, her favorite dress the color of bluebells to bring out her eyes was the next best thing.

“Madness.” He stalked toward her, moving with the confidence of a man who knew what he wanted and usually got it. “Tinkering with Tommy again?”

“Not really. Look, we need to straighten a few things out. I—”

“I’d rather you tinkered with me.”

“—owe you an apology for what I said to you…” she trailed off as the implication of what he’d said hit her.

He laughed at her stunned expression.

“Hey, if the suggestion is that bad, I won’t stick around. Playing second fiddle to a big hulk like this fella—” he tapped Tommy’s scoop, “—isn’t my style.”

“You’re sticking around?”

The words popped out of her mouth and she froze as he broached the distance between them, shaken by the ferocity of longing urging her to rip his clothes off and have her way with him, right here, right now.

“Does that mean you don’t think I’m some lowlife user who preys on a woman’s emotions to get what he wants?”

She could’ve answered him if she remembered the question. However, with the guy she loved standing less than two feet away, his gaze fixed on her mouth like he wanted to gobble her up and come back for seconds, her mind wiped blank.

“By that look in your eye, Angel Face, I’d say you’re about to give the old expression
roll in the hay
new meaning.”

“You still talk too much, Slick.”

She reached for him without thought or reason and as she slid into his arms she knew she didn’t need one. Being with him felt right, and as he kissed her with the astounding passion she’d come to expect from a driven man who demanded and gave in equal measures, she knew this time she wouldn’t be stupid enough to let him walk away.

All the pent-up emotion of the last few weeks spilled into the kiss and she devoured him, clambering onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist and hanging on for dear life.

“Little wonder guys keep coming back to this place if that’s the sort of welcome they get,” he said, coming up for air when she finally loosened her hold.

“Still too much talk.”

She kissed him again, a slow, erotic fusion of lips, a tentative touch of tongues as she dared him to match her growing hunger.

How many nights had she lain awake missing this, missing his touch, craving one more taste of the addiction he’d become for her?

Here he was, every bit as good as she remembered. His hands glided over her, burning a virtual hole in the silk covering her back, caressing her skin until her spine tingled. His kiss softened, making her body tremble beneath his seductive power.

“We do have to talk.”

“Later,” she said, as she backed him toward the door where she flipped the lock. “Much later.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Cupid’s Dating Tips for the Enlightened Male

Remember dates like birthdays, anniversaries and Valentine’s. She’ll put out
.

As Marc pulled up Sierra’s driveway, Ripley howled, quickly escalating into berserk barks.

“He’s missed you,” Sierra said, staring at Marc as if he were a mirage.

After their hot and fast reunion in the barn she’d retreated, plagued by self-doubts. Had she made a mistake throwing herself at him? Had he only come back for the wedding or was there more to his visit?

He’d wanted to talk and she’d silenced him in the only way she knew how, and though the sex had been phenomenal it left her feeling more uncertain than ever.

“Did you?”

He took hold of her hand, grazing her knuckles with his lips, kissing the delicate web between.

She could’ve pretended she didn’t understand the question. She could’ve fired a witty comeback designed to distract.

She settled for the simple truth and hoped to God he was ready for it. “I missed you. A lot.”

“Yeah?”

He stopped kissing her hand but held onto it, the strong warmth of his touch reassuring her.

“Yeah. You’ve got this charisma thing going on that makes you kind of irresistible.”

“I like the sound of that.”

His thumb brushed her knuckles, picking up where his lips had been moments earlier, the slow, rhythmic movement sending sparks shooting up her arm.

Combined with the cocoon-like atmosphere of his comfy car it lulled her into a semi-doze, and she’d like nothing better than to stay this way with him forever, shut away from the real world.

But it was time they dealt with reality and as unpleasant as this could be she needed to know if they had a future.

“I saw the article.”

“Which one?” He managed a rueful chuckle and she joined in, surprised she could now laugh about something that had torn her apart not that long ago. “Has to be the second one because I know what your reaction to the first was.”

“Sorry about all that,” she said, knowing they had to have this conversation but scared to death anyway.

His thumb stilled and his grip on her hand tightened. “I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Pain slashed his brow. “Can’t believe I was so stupid. I should’ve told you the truth as soon as I found out but I kept justifying it by separating business from us.”

“The truth?”

Something she really needed to hear yet hoped to God it wouldn’t hurt.

“When I first came to town I didn’t know Love Byte was on our current list. When I found out, I thought it wouldn’t matter. Logically, business was business. You and I were something else.”

“Emotionally?”

He shook his head, finally met her eyes. “I don’t do emotions. Never have. Easier to explain everything with logic. But after your wake-up call I realized something.”

He hadn’t mentioned love or sticking around or anything that remotely sounded like he wanted a relationship. The waiting was killing her.

“What’s that?”

“That logic doesn’t explain everything. That business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That emotions are fine if the right person is there to share them with.”

He reached for her hands and held on like he never meant to let go. “That person is you. You’re incredible, every unique, fiery inch, and I love you.”

“Say that again.”

“Which part?”

He leaned towards her and she met him half way, her heart filled with a joy she never knew possible.

“The last bit.”

“I love you.”

His husky voice rippled over her, his declaration surreal as he cradled her face in his hands, his magnetic gaze locked on her.

“Right back at you,” she murmured, as their lips met in a kiss filled with promise, a kiss filled with a love she never dreamed possible, a kiss to build a future on.

Making her way through the crowd, Sierra knew if she ever tired of Love Byte she had a new career in wedding planning.

The town hall looked exquisite, the garnet and gold color theme perfect for a Christmas Eve wedding. She’d steered clear of tinsel or balls or anything overtly Christmas, going for a subtle twist on an old theme and people had been complimenting her all evening.

She’d thought the mistletoe over the bridal table had been a nice touch, as did the happy couple that kissed whenever someone pointed overhead. Any excuse.

The crystal shone, the seafood catered buffet had been a hit and the wedding cake, a simple tier filled with chocolate cupcakes iced red and sprinkled with gold dust, took pride of place near the stage where a funky quartet played songs ranging from golden oldies to the eighties.

After the stalling and the kerfuffle when Liv had discovered Hank’s true identity, the wedding had gone smoothly. Time to sit back and relax.

Sierra grabbed a couple of Margarita’s from a waiter’s tray and made a beeline for Belle, looking decidedly morose at their table.

“Here. Get this into you. And lose the face. Tequila and tears don’t mix.”

“Weddings always make me cry.” Belle sniffled, dabbing at her eyes while taking a healthy slurp of Margarita.

“Usually in relief it isn’t you standing up there,” Sierra said, raising her glass and taking a sip while scanning the room for her man.

Her man
.

That sounded so good. She rolled the phrase around in her head a few more times, resisting the urge to jump up on the table and do a happy dance.

Might make for a pleasant change from the horizontal dance she’d been doing with Marc ever since they’d reunited.

“Stop looking so damn happy. It’s nauseating,” Belle downed the rest of her drink in three gulps.

“You said to quit pining so I did.”

“He should’ve made you grovel.”

Belle gestured to a waiter hovering nearby and pointed to her glass for a top up. “He took it far too easy on you. You treat the guy like dirt and what does he do? Comes back to town, tells you he loves you and asks you to take a world trip with him. Sheesh.”

Belle rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair to perv on the waiter’s cute butt as he walked away. “Some girls have all the luck.”