Designed for Love (Texas Nights) (23 page)

BOOK: Designed for Love (Texas Nights)
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“Is it possible to have a cheap candy hangover?”

From the foot of the bed, Napoleon growled deep in his throat. She levered herself to a sitting position, causing him to leap to the floor and bark with a nonstop
yap-yap-yap.

“Fine,” she told him. “I get the message. Get your ass out of bed and get back to work.”

He trotted toward the cabin’s only bathroom, and Ashton followed, shuffling her bare feet along the wood floor. Although the mirror over the sink was tiny, she still caught her reflection in the fly-speckled glass. Hair darkened from lack of washing, puffy eyes from bawling, and a smear of chocolate and cherry juice ringing her mouth.

Bark and growl? She stared down at Napoleon. “Surprised you weren’t howling.”

He plopped his butt to the floor, lifted his head, and gave out an
Aaahrooo!

Yeah, that pretty much echoed how she felt.

But Allie and Cameron’s wedding was this weekend. She didn’t have time to wallow in chocolate and misery. And that was exactly what she’d do if she continued to think about Mac, the life he’d returned to, and what he’d left behind at Lily Lake.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The day of Allie and Cameron’s wedding, Ashton couldn’t sleep so she crawled from bed just before dawn, leaving Napoleon snoring on her pillow. Rather than driving to the pavilion, she made the trek around the lake on foot.

Dr. Smith had been able to save most of the water lilies Clyde had swiped, and Dr. Wurzenbach had replanted them at the edge of the pavilion clearing. He was like a first-time mother, watching those plants as though they might run out in traffic and get flattened at any time. After the deck had been completed, the two scientists had also conspired to replant native species around the construction. It was immature now, but it would grow into a lush native landscape.

Damn, she was doing something good here. Between Lily Lake and the calls she’d begun to receive about interior design work, she was on her way.

She wandered down the walkway and onto the deck to lean against the rail. If she looked closely enough, she could just make out the spot where she and Mac had made love. The sun rose with the soft light of Texas in late spring, pinks and yellows pushing up and dragging beautiful blue skies with it. Perfect. Perfect weather. Perfect day for a wedding.

Then why did she feel so imperfect inside?

Because no matter what she’d helped build, Mac was no longer here to share it with her.

Still, moping wasn’t an option today. And she always had her fake-it-till-you-make-it smile in her hip pocket to carry her through the wedding this afternoon.

Next week, she would force herself to follow up on all the leads she had for a new general contractor. Amazing how many people had come out of the woodwork, begging to bid on the rest of the Lily Lake development. She wanted to move forward quickly, but it was far more important to find the right person, the one who would share her vision, her dream.

Her heart cramped as though it had run a marathon without a water break.

“Stop whining,” she told it. “Mac isn’t the right person.” If he had been, he never would’ve left.

Because she never would’ve pushed him away.

Footsteps came from behind her, and she turned to see Jessup picking his way through the shin-high grass. Men. They were more trouble than they were worth these days, it seemed.

She didn’t greet him, simply let him make his way to her, then turned to look back toward the deck at the edge of the lake.

“It really is quite beautiful,” he said finally.

“More now that the lily pads were returned.”

“They’re lovely as well, but I meant what you’ve accomplished here.”

His words set off a small glow inside her, but she tossed cold water on it. “I can’t take all or even most of the credit. None of this would be here if it weren’t for Gigi, the workers, the whole town.” And most especially if it weren’t for Mac.

Jessup stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, jangled change, something she’d never seen him do in the past. “I owe you a heartfelt apology.”

She would not melt. Would not let him off easy even though she wanted to throw her arms around him and forgive him. New Ashton didn’t let people off easy. She expected to be treated with the respect that she now gave herself. “For?”

He sighed and finally focused on her instead of the view. “For not believing you could change. Yes, I’d seen you grow since you sued Roxanne, but I thought you’d transformed as far as you were capable. Not only was that misguided of me, it was cruel.” He reached for her hand. When she allowed him to take it, enfold it in his warm, comforting grasp, his shoulders dropped. “I was scared.”

That sideswiped her. As far as she knew, this man had never been afraid of anything. “Of what?”

“That you didn’t have the skills, patience or knowledge to manage a project this size and be successful. I worried that when—and yes, I assumed when, not if—you failed, it would send you back to your former life. And you’d made such progress, moving away from your parents’ influence and lifestyle. I couldn’t bear to see you return to that shallow young socialite you’d once been.”

Ashton scooted closer, rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m definitely not an expert at healthy family dynamics, but I’m pretty sure what you’re describing is the way a parent might feel when his child is about to jump off a cliff. Out-of-control. Helpless. Scared shitless.”

His laughter rumbled through him and warmed her heart. “How did you become so wise?”

“I learned from the best.”

* * *

Mac’s suit would surely choke him to death this time. Sure, he’d blown way too much cash to have it custom tailored, but that guy must’ve made a mistake because the pants felt six inches too short and the tie he’d assured Mac was designer tightened around his throat with every breath he took. But the worst was the way it squeezed his chest. He’d unbuttoned the damned jacket, but the pressure hadn’t eased.

As he parked his truck behind the explosion of cars lining the lake road, he buttoned it up again and grabbed the set of plans off the bench seat beside him.

When he hit the path to the pavilion and deck, he had to smile. She’d thought of every damn thing, hadn’t she? A strip of the gravel drive had been covered with carpet so people could enter the area without ruining their shoes. He and Ash needed to work out a much better parking solution if...if she would even talk with him.

But the carpet was just the beginning of what Ashton had done to make Allie and Cameron’s wedding day spectacular. Ashton’s five pricey chandeliers softly lit the pavilion. She’d been right on the money because they were perfect. Fresh flowers and some kind of greenery were twined up each of the support columns. White and yellow fabric was draped along the deck railing, and white guest chairs sat in curved rows. Apparently she’d had an idea this shindig would be a blowout because she’d arranged more chairs near the shore, close enough to see the ceremony but far enough from the water so no one would get wet.

And floating in the water as if they’d never been ripped out and plunked down in Dirty Harry’s pissers were Ashton’s lily pads.

“Hey, Mac.” The call came from a trio of men decked out in tuxes, and Mac did a ninety-degree to head that way. Not that he was avoiding seeing Ashton for the first time or anything.

When he approached, Jamie and Beck were laughing and cutting up. Cameron, on the other hand, looked a little pale under his perpetual tan. Mac slapped the groom on the back. “Coming down with cold feet?”

“No,” Jamie said, “he’s afraid Allie has.”

Cameron shoved his brother. “Shut up, dickhead.”

Beck immediately pushed between them, wedging them apart. “So help me God, if the two of you walk down that aisle in torn and dirty tuxes, none of us will have sex again for weeks. I don’t care if it
is
Cameron’s fucking honeymoon.”

Jamie straightened his lapels, flashed a slick attorney smile. “I wouldn’t ruin this perfection.” Then his gaze narrowed on Mac. “Wait a minute. What the hell are
you
doing here?”

“Yeah,” Cameron said, “Allie said you never RSVRed.”

“RSVPed,” Jamie corrected.

“Sent his shit back, whatever.”

“Uh...is it a problem? Is there enough room?”

“Man—” Cameron gestured around the place, “—you kinda built all this. I figure it’s fine.”

No, Ashton was the one who’d envisioned and built this place. He’d just contributed labor and frustration. “Maybe I should just drop a gift later—”

Jamie shoulder-bumped him hard and subtly nodded toward the pavilion. “And miss that?”

Mac glanced over, and everything inside him stilled. Stilled, hell, all his cells pretty much dropped to their knees and genuflected. “Holy shit.”

Ashton meandered through the guests—stopping, chatting, smiling. She wore a sleeveless Asian-style dress with a high neck. But what it covered from the waist up, the slit from her ankles to hip revealed. Every time she took a step or shifted her weight, the fabric parted, showing off her killer legs and a pair of high-heeled sandals that worshipped her feet.

His breathing sped up. His fingertips tingled with the need to pop open the little fabric buttons running from her collarbone down to that slit. More than that, though, he wanted that megawatt smile focused on him.

“Dude, sure hope you’re back for good,” Beck said. “Because if not, you’re a complete fuck-up.”

* * *

Ashton glanced over at the canvas awning with velvet side panels she and Roxanne had set up for the bridal party and caught Allie peeking out. They’d had to improvise a little since Lily Lake had no dressing facilities yet, but inside the tent was a gorgeous harem-style lounge.

Time to encourage everyone to take a seat so Allie could make her entrance. Once the guests were seated, Ashton waved Cameron, Jamie and Beck onto the deck with the minister. Emmalee sat in the front row on Cameron’s side, clutching her own fiancé’s hand and beaming, practically bouncing in her chair. Cameron and Allie had better watch out or she’d have their kids’ names picked out before they were back from their Costa Rican honeymoon.

The music was recorded, but Ashton had splurged on a sound system, figuring it would pay for itself in the long run. As the notes of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” drifted over the crowd, the drapes were drawn back for the women to walk down the aisle. Eden came first, lovely in a teal dress with a low V-neck and A-line skirt. The color showed off her gorgeous dark hair and made the most of her curvy figure. Roxanne was next. She strutted out on copper-colored heels wearing a matching strapless sheath. Her gaze locked on to Jamie, her smile a combo of challenge and intimacy.

Oh, yeah, this wedding business was just starting.

The music changed, announcing the bride’s entrance.

At the sight of Allie, Ashton’s breath simply paused, and emotion pricked behind her eyes. Now this was how a bride should look. Granted, Allie’s father looked mildly constipated, but no one would give him a second glance when he was standing beside his sexy angel of a daughter.

The bodice of her dress was fitted in fragile lace and silk, clung to her shoulders by strands of tiny pearls. Her hair was in a simple updo, and around her neck hung an emerald-and-diamond necklace. Her skirt fell straight in front but flowed into a sensuous train. Her back was bare except for the pearl strands attaching to the skirt at the flare of her hips.

Pictures of Allie alone would sell Lily Lake as a wedding venue.

Ashton glanced at Cameron. His poleaxed expression slowly transformed into pride edged with cockiness. One that clearly said “I’m one lucky bastard, and she’s all mine. Deal with it or fuck off.”

She scanned the crowd again to confirm everything was under control. That was when she spotted him. There on the back left edge of the chairs set up on the shore. He’d cut his hair, and his goatee had been trimmed.

Her earlier feelings of calm and contentment evaporated, leaving her feeling everything but under control.

He came back.

She breathed through her immediate reaction, trying to talk down all her body parts reaching out with both arms and begging Mac to come closer.

Of course, he’d come back. He’d been invited to the damn wedding. For her to think it was anything more was conceited and delusional.

Mac turned his head away from the bride, and Ashton’s gaze caught his. Something sparked in his eyes. She wanted to believe it was pleasure, but it could’ve been panic. Then a smile touched his lips, and he mouthed, “You did great.”

She couldn’t do this now. She’d end up a puddle of idiocy in the middle of Allie’s wedding. Not a good way to build her reputation, so she deliberately gave Mac a so-nice-that-you-could-make-it smile.

And his pleased expression transformed to guarded.

In the time Ashton had been ogling Mac, Allie had made it to the altar and stepped away from her father.

Head in the game
,
girl.

The ceremony was a blur of promises, smiles, rings and one whopper of a kiss. The attendees cheered their approval, forcing the newly married couple to come up for air. While people were whooping and calling out congratulations, Ashton avoided looking directly at all the happy faces. Much easier to beeline for the pavilion and check in with the catering staff Eden had hired.

Much less painful.

Because when Mac McLaughlin was in Ashton’s immediate vicinity, she could handle only so much joy.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Mac chased Ashton all over the damned place, and every time he was within hailing distance, she darted off. By the tenth time, he figured it wasn’t accidental. Hard to blame her since he’d pretty much been a dick and a half. He’d thought the plans he’d stashed behind the bar might sweet-talk him back into her good graces, but there’d been no break in the party action.

And really, who wanted to look at blueprints during a wedding reception?

“You look like someone just broke your favorite screwdriver.” Roxanne stood on his right side, holding out a cold beer. “Also look like you could use this.”

He took the bottle, let the glass cool his heated palm but didn’t drink. His stomach was a mess.

“Wanna tell Dr. Rox what’s making you miserable?”

“Her.”

“She has a knack for that.” Roxanne’s throaty laugh calmed his stomach enough so he could take one sip of the beer.

But still it bubbled around in there so he set it on a nearby table.

“I never thought she’d make it here,” Roxanne continued. “Figured she’d get bored at the very least. Or worse, become condescending. I can’t believe this is the same woman who sued me so she could win a bet.”

People were clustered around Ashton, and by the hand gestures, they were obviously complimenting her on the event and the facilities. She’d done it—used her sense of style, her love of beauty, and her sharp mind to create something people would enjoy for years to come. And with every addition to the Community at Lily Lake, it would become Ashton’s legacy to Shelbyville. To this state. To herself.

Bobblehead
,
my ass.

She happened to glance in his direction, and their gazes met. Her expression didn’t change, but she angled her body so her shoulder was to him. Blocking him out. Telling him she didn’t need him to save her project.

But what if he wanted to be her partner?

“I’ve gotta get out of here. Where’s Napoleon?” he asked Roxanne. “I need that dog. Now.”

“She stashed him in some doggie playpen thing in the harem room.” She pointed her drink toward a canvas-and-fabric setup, the place the women had been hiding before the ceremony.

“Got it.” He was moving before the second word passed his lips. If there was one thing guaranteed to force Ashton to talk to him, it was dognapping Napoleon.

“Hey,” Roxanne called, “what are you doing?”

“The one thing that will either guarantee an ass-kicking or convince her to take me back.”

* * *

When Ashton realized it was time to take Napoleon out for a potty break, she scanned the still-crowded reception for a dark-haired man who stood taller than anyone else. She’d originally hoped to share this day with him, but the hollowness in her chest had kept her from drawing him into any of the congratulatory conversations she’d had over the past couple of hours.

He was gone. And she wasn’t surprised.

Still, that hollow spot inside her ached.

She brushed aside the tent’s curtain and headed to Napoleon’s travel pen. Empty. Oh, good things did not happen when Napoleon wandered around on his own. A scan around the tent revealed no sign of him.

Her stomach rocked. She’d almost lost him once. Napoleon had been the only thing keeping her from melting into a puddle of complete self-pity since Mac left.

“Napoleon, sweetie. This isn’t a good time to play hide-and-seek. Come out.”

No answer. No Napoleon.

On closer inspection, it was clear he hadn’t chewed his way out of the enclosure because the netting was intact. She’d used this pen a few times in the past, but he’d never been able to jump over the side. She might love that dog, but if he pulled his grocery-store free-for-all at this wedding reception, she would—she didn’t know, but neither of them would like whatever she came up with.

Calm. Control. No need to get crazy when he was probably just outside using a bush.

She pushed through the curtain into the early evening warmth. One circle outside the tent while she hissed “Napoleon, come to Mommy” still got her
nada.
And she didn’t exactly have search-party attire on.

Damn that dog.

She needed help. As fast as she could, she did the high-heel tiptoe-jog back to the pavilion and spotted Roxanne. Perfect. She was ruthless when it came to Napoleon. Ashton slid on her girls-always-go-to-the-bathroom-together smile and said, “Roxanne, can I talk with you for a second?”

Before she could answer, Ashton dragged her away from Jamie and some other people.

“What the hell, girl?” Roxanne huffed. “I was about to get cake.”

“He’s missing, and I need your help finding him.”

“Which him?”

“Napoleon! Which other him is missing?” Ashton stooped down, trying to get a clear view through all the shuffling feet. One glance up at Roxanne revealed her friend just standing there, hands on her hips and a half grin on her face. “You know something. What do you know?”

One toned shoulder rolled in a “Who, me?” gesture.

Ashton hopped up, moved in close to Roxanne. “Tell me what you know this instant or I’ll...I’ll...I’ll make you get married at Dirty Harry’s.”

That surprised a laugh out of Roxanne. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Something niggled at the back of Ashton’s mind. “I haven’t seen Mac for a while now either.”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping your eye on him.”

“My traitor dog went with him, didn’t he?” She only thought her heart couldn’t break any more. Wrong. Her dog had officially defected. “They’re probably halfway back to Dallas by now.” The nearest chair squeaked in protest when she flopped into it. “What is it with the men I love?”

Roxanne bent at the knees, got closer. “What’s that?”

“I love him, dammit, and he took my dog. The male gender of every species should be force-neutered when—”

The music and chatter muted. Everyone turned to stare at Ashton.

“I said that too loud, didn’t I?”

“Yep.” Roxanne held out a hand, pulled Ashton back to her feet and toward the pavilion’s edge. “So I’m gonna take a little pity on you and tell you I don’t think either of them have left town.”

“Where are they?”

“Now that, I won’t tell you. But it’s time you hashed all this out with Mac.”

“What’s there to hash out? He left. I’ve moved on.”

Then Roxanne did something so unexpected, so out of character, it struck Ashton dumb. Possibly deaf too because it was hard to understand what Roxanne was saying once she pulled Ashton in for a tight hug. “...He is sick in love with you if he’s learned to get along with that hairy little monster of yours.”

Mac—in love? Ashton’s hearing shut down for a few seconds to give her brain time to catch up.

Roxanne kept babbling on. “He screwed up. He knows it. Now go kiss and make up. Hell, make some babies for all I care. Just take care of this because I need your head back in the game before Jamie and I get married. I want you to build something new just for us.”

“I was thinking of an outhouse.”

Roxanne’s laughter was loud in Ashton’s ear. “How about a cute little chapel instead?” She pulled back and shook—a little hard—Ashton’s shoulders. “Get out of here. We have everything under control.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Being able to say
I
told you so
for years into the future is my ultimate reward.”

BOOK: Designed for Love (Texas Nights)
8.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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