Intercepting Daisy (20 page)

“I don't want to be without you anymore,” he said. “Let's try this again. You know, dinner, a movie, maybe some skydiving?”

“No jet car barbecue?”

“I'll work on it,” he said. His voice dropped. “I don't care where we go, as long as we're together.” He reached out, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. His mouth was warm on hers. He tasted of mint. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to use tongue in front of a four-year-old, but Daisy didn't object. “Stay with me,” he whispered.

She heard an office door open and someone call out, “Daisy Spencer?” She pulled her mouth off of his and said, “I gotta go.”

“I didn't mean to interrupt,” the woman said and grinned. “I never knew the waiting room was a good make-out spot.”

Daisy reached out to wipe her lip gloss off of Grant's mouth. “Sorry about that.”

“They were kissing,” Alex told the woman. “My mom and dad kiss. And they say ‘I love you.' A lot.”

“Maybe on our second date,” Daisy said. “It's still a bit soon.” But she couldn't stop the smile that spread over her mouth.

Grant grinned at Daisy. “There's no time like the present. I love you, Daisy Spencer.”

“I love you too, Grant Parker.”

“Now you have to get married,” Alex said. “You say you love each other, and you get married.”

“I love this kid,” Grant said.

“Maybe on our third date,” Daisy said.

“Perfect. Let's do that,” Grant said.

Fourteen months later

G
RANT
P
ARKER ATTEMPTED
to open his eyes and let out a groan. He was facedown on a beach. Somewhere. If he could get his eyes to focus, he might be able to figure out where he was.

He flipped over onto his back and let out another groan while the sun stabbed him in the face. It had to be just after sunrise. His head was pounding, and he had to piss like a racehorse. He tried to brush sand off of his face, only succeeded in getting it in his eyes, and swore extravagantly as he tried to a) get rid of the sand and b) piece together why he wasn't in a warm, comfortable bed.

He'd gone out for drinks last night with his dickhead teammates and his soon-to-be father- and brother-in-law. He remembered a few of them and several rounds of mai tais or some other drink with an umbrella in it. They hadn't tasted like they'd had alcohol in them. There'd been music and beautiful women doing the hula, and the guys had been giving him shit because tomorrow was his wedding day.

Tomorrow.
Tomorrow
. As in this morning.
Fuck!

The wedding was at eleven
AM
or some other ridiculous time he'd tried to talk Daisy out of. She'd given him that smile he loved and said, “I don't want to wait all day to become your wife. Let's get married, have brunch with our friends, and go surfing.”

He'd signed another contract the month before (with a stunning number of zeroes), after the Sharks won the big game. He wasn't sure how to tell her that surfing was now on the
banned activities
list, as well. At least those writing his contracts hadn't said a word yet about bedroom-related activities, which could be more dangerous with Daisy than the items they'd already listed in the contract.

“How about some snorkeling instead?”

“Deal,” she'd told him.

A few minutes after that, she'd scampered out of his master bathroom wearing her new swimsuit. She'd wanted to model it for him. He'd had to take it off of her, they hadn't left his room for several hours as a result, and he'd forgotten all about the fact he'd agreed to an eleven
AM
wedding until he got the invitation in the mail a month later.

He patted himself down as he worked up the courage to open his eyes again. He was going to have no choice at some point, but right now, he'd prefer waiting until he felt a bit more human. His fingers brushed the cell phone in his pocket. Thank God. He felt a credit card or a room key in the opposite pocket. He jammed one hand beneath himself to discover his wallet, still securely buttoned into his back pocket.

Okay. He could get back into his hotel room if he could open his eyes and get to his feet—that is, if he was still on the same island he'd arrived at so he could marry Daisy.

“Sir. Sir,” a voice above him said.

“Yeah?” he managed to croak out while slightly opening one eye. A guy wearing a uniform slowly came into view.

“You're going to have to go back to your room.”

“I realize this probably isn't a great way to start off our acquaintance, but where am I?”

“You're on the beach at the Turtle Bay Resort. On Oahu.” The guy reached out a hand. “How about coffee? It's on me.”

Grant was at the right place. They hadn't put him on an inter-island flight and dumped his ass in the sand on Kauai or something.

“How did I get out here?”

“You told your buddies you wanted to sleep on the beach last night.”

“I must have been shit-faced.”

“Coffee,” the guy said. He helped Grant to his feet. “You can get your revenge on them later.”

Grant felt a bit wobbly and wondered if he was about to barf, but the world stabilized a little as he dug his toes into the sand.

“I'm getting married later.”

“Congratulations. Now let's go get that coffee.”

D
AISY AWOKE TO
a knock on her hotel room door.

“Ms. Spencer? Room service,” a cheery voice called out. “May we come in?”

“Go ahead,” Daisy responded.

She was going to have to get in the bathroom and take care of things before the hair and makeup people arrived at eight thirty, but she could relax with a mimosa and some breakfast before the insanity began. They'd wanted a small, intimate wedding and ended up planning a 150-guest extravaganza on a Hawaiian beach after Grant informed her that he'd invited the entire team, as well as the coaches and their wives.

Her parents almost stroked out when they calculated how much the wedding would cost. Daisy still had some royalties from
Overtime Parking
. She'd also signed a contract with a publishing house for her flight-attendant memoir. She and Grant could afford to pay for their big day themselves.

“We'll pay for it,” Grant told them as he squeezed Daisy's hand. “Will it work for you to pick up the tab for the rehearsal dinner, Mr. Spencer?”

“Call me Gerald. The rehearsal dinner is on us,” Daisy's dad told him.

Shortly afterward, he'd started calling Grant
son
, and they went out to hit a bucket of balls at the driving range and drink beer with Daisy's brother while Daisy and her mom immersed themselves in the minutiae of planning a wedding. She knew Grant's joining their family was a done deal when her brother invited him to some gaming exhibition. It turned out Grant loved being included.

Daisy scrambled out of bed when several women followed the rolling carts of food and drinks into her room.

“Hey, bride, it's time for breakfast,” Catherine called out. “I brought some people with me. You're okay with that, aren't you?”

“I'm great with it,” Daisy said. She found herself inside a knot of women still in bathrobes and slippers, talking and laughing as they hugged her. The food carts kept rolling in. She'd ordered breakfast for five people; the kitchen must have gotten a different memo.

“We heard there are mimosas,” Megan Reed told her.

“We'd like you even if there weren't free drinks,” Delisa said.

“Daisy, I checked on the flowers already. They're perfect,” Amy Stephens said.

“Thank God I can drink this time. I could have a lot more fun when I'm out with the girls if my husband would stop getting me pregnant,” Holly Collins said. She patted her slightly rounded abdomen. “He walks into the room, raises an eyebrow, and I miss a period. Mama needs a mimosa, damn it.”

“Oh my God. We need to get that guy a hobby,” Cameron Anderson teased. “Then again, my husband says practice makes perfect.” Her voice dropped. “He wanted to reenact every scene in Daisy's book. Let's just say we came up with another plan when we almost got caught red-handed in our own backyard by Grandma.”

Sophie Carlson burst out laughing. “I hate it when that happens.”

Kendall McCoy's hand strayed to her abdomen. Twenty-five women turned to stare at her in response.

“Well?” Jillian Taylor said.

“Of course, I'm pregnant. Couldn't you tell when I was sneaking into the airplane bathroom all the way over here?”

There were hugs and congratulations, and Kendall took the glass of ice water Holly Collins pressed into her hand.

“You could have had an upset stomach,” Emily McKenna said.

“It's been upset for three months now.” Kendall took a sip of water. “Drew spends every night with his hand on my belly waiting for the baby to move so he can feel it. He says he wants another little girl like Tessa, but I think I'd like a little boy like him.” She heaved a sigh. “I'm going to have to tell Matt eventually so we can start the planning for my maternity leave.”

Amy Stephens cleared her throat and tried to look mysterious.

“Okay, what do you know?” Emily asked her.

“Matt came home a couple of weeks ago and said, ‘I think Kendall might be expecting. She's drinking herbal tea instead of lattes, and she's been falling asleep on the plane rides home from games instead of working. Plus, she's using the ladies' room a bit more often these days.' ”

“What did you tell him?”

“He knew I was pregnant before I figured it out,” Amy said. “It pissed me off. How can I surprise him with anything when he already knows?”

Daisy heard the tap-tap-tap of a piece of flatware against a glass. “Ladies,” her mom said, “the breakfast buffet is served.” She patted Grant's mom, Martha, on the back. “Daisy told me that you and your husband do not drink. How about some freshly squeezed orange juice instead?”

Daisy moved in their direction. “I'll get it for you, Mrs. Parker,” she said.

She still wasn't sure what to call her mother-in-law. “Mrs. Parker” felt so formal. Calling her by her first name felt too informal. Maybe they could talk about it later and come up with a nickname or an endearment. Daisy knew Grant's parents were trying hard to fit in. They had been so kind to her already.

“Oh, yes.” She reached out to kiss Daisy's cheek. “I'm so excited I'm getting a daughter.”

“And I'm getting a second mom,” Daisy said. “Would you stay with us while I'm putting my dress on and stuff later? I would really like you to be here.”

To Daisy's surprise, Martha's eyes filled with tears. “I would love that.”

A
FEW HOURS
later, Daisy's father helped her out of the golf cart that stopped a hundred yards or so from the bamboo archway festooned with flowers, vines, and tulle that looked out over the Pacific Ocean. The sun shone brightly in a startlingly blue sky. The center aisle had been covered by a white cloth runner, scattered with rose petals and small shiny green leaves, and flanked by 150 white wooden chairs for their guests. The breeze smelled like plumeria. She could hear the ocean waves against the sand, the soft sounds of a guitar, and the low hum of conversation among the guests waiting a short distance away. The skirt of her wedding gown rippled around her as she smoothed it with both hands.

She'd wanted something beautiful enough to get married in but casual enough for a barefoot walk on the beach with Grant later. The silk chiffon gown had an Empire waist, an illusion bodice covered in delicate white-on-white embroidery, short sleeves, small fabric-covered buttons down the back, and a slight train. It was gorgeous, she could move in it, and it wasn't itchy. Anywhere. She wore lace ballet flats threaded with blue ribbon bows, a penny in her shoe, and her grandma's pearl bracelet. She'd decided to skip the veil.

Her mom had pinned a wreath of rosebuds and tiny white orchids into her hair. She carried a bouquet of white cattleya orchids and rosebuds tied with a white double-faced satin bow.

Her dad held out his arm for Daisy to slip her hand through. “Ready, kitten?”

She was shaking. It wasn't that it was nerves—well, maybe it was nerves. She wanted to marry Grant. She was crazy in love with him, to be honest. At the same time, this was the rest of their lives. What if they got tired of teasing each other about all the activities he wasn't allowed to engage in while he still played for the Sharks? What if he got sick of dealing with her flight schedule? What if she got tired of a refrigerator full of Gatorade and protein bars?

“I'm a little nervous,” she said to her dad in a low voice.

“Everyone who gets married is nervous. If you weren't nervous, I'd worry about it.” Her dad kissed her forehead. “Are you nervous because you're thinking about the rest of your life with one person, or are you freaking out because you've never done this before?”

“Maybe both.” She heard a golf cart approaching behind them and the
toot-toot
of the ridiculous little horn all golf carts came equipped with.

“I heard there was a wedding,” Tom Reed called out to them as he drove past. “Free booze.” Catherine had one hand through the hand-holds on her side, but she was laughing.

Catherine and Tom got out of their golf cart twenty-five feet or so ahead. Catherine had on a floor-length sleeveless soft yellow chiffon gown, which was made by the same designer as Daisy's and outlined the slight baby bump she was sporting these days. She was already holding her bouquet of white cymbidium orchids. Tom wore a linen shirt, slacks, flip-flops, a boutonniere, and a big grin.

“Let's get this show on the road,” he said to Catherine. “Shall we?” He extended his arm to her. “How are you feeling?”

“I might be able to get through the next hour without being sick,” she said. “Let's get them married.”

“I love that idea.”

Daisy heard applause from the guests as Catherine and Tom stepped onto the aisle runner. She knew that Cam was already waiting at the altar with Grant; Grant had decided he wanted two best men. She wanted to see Grant, but she needed to stay hidden for just a few moments more. Plus, she had some things she'd like to discuss with her dad.

“There's no such thing as a perfect marriage, but there are plenty of happy ones. Your mother and I are pretty happy. Your brother's pretty happy with his wife,” her dad said. “There's no reason why you won't be happy too.”

“What if we get sick of each other or fall out of love? What happens then?”

Her dad stroked her cheek. “Then you remember all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. You have a lifetime to discover everything about him that you love. I'm still discovering new things about your mother, and we've been married for forty years.”

“I think she has a crush on Grant,” Daisy said.

“Everyone has a crush on Grant, kitten, but he's marrying you today, isn't he?”

“That's true.”

“Then come on. Let's go show everyone how beautiful you look.”

Daisy and her dad stepped onto the cloth runner as her mom got to her feet. The rest of the guests followed. She glanced from side to side, trying to take in all of the guests, the beautiful day, Catherine's smile at the little archway. Her dad patted her hand as she finally recognized the song the guitarist was singing, and they began making their way along the aisle.