Secret Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) (22 page)

Chapter 18

G
reer smiled when Jason gently squeezed her fingers as they sat together in the church at Blackstone Farms listening to Reverend Jimmy Merrill officiating the wedding between Peyton Blackstone and Nicholas Cole-Thomas. She knew Jason was thinking about the time when they would stand before their friends and family to exchange vows to love, cherish and protect each other.

Peyton, dressed in an off-white sweep-train sheath in four-ply silk and silk chiffon with a draped weave bodice, stared up at Nicholas as she repeated her vows. Her burnished hair was swept up in a twist and festooned with tiny red and white rosebuds. Her maid of honor wore red and her matrons of honor wore similar street-length dresses in black, the colors of the farm’s silks.

Those close enough to the couple witnessed the naked love in the eyes of Nicholas as he slipped an eternity band on his bride’s hand. He wore a black tailored suit with a spread collar white shirt and red silk tie. Peyton’s male cousins—Jeremy, whom Nicholas had selected as his best man, Ryan and family patriarch Sheldon were the groomsmen.

The weather had cooperated with above-average temperatures. Two tents were erected, one for dining and the other for dancing. Bales of hay, carved pumpkins and cornstalks tied with black and red ribbons served as decorations.

Even though the men had taken the occasion to dress down by not wearing ties, they did wear jackets with their suit trousers. The women, on the other hand, sported dresses and suits with sexy stilettos. Living and working on a horse farm didn’t lend itself to wearing four- and five-inch heels. The ceremony ended as Nicholas dipped his wife, kissing her passionately as flashbulbs flashed, capturing the scene for perpetuity. Greer, holding on to Jason’s hand, followed him out of the church, blinking against the brilliant autumn sunlight.

Coming to Virginia with Jason was what she had needed to relax completely. After the wedding they were invited to tour Blackstone Farms and then join in the reception dinner. Greer got a chance to see and touch the magnificent thoroughbreds. It’d been years since she had ridden a horse, and if she’d bought the appropriate footwear, she would’ve gone riding with some of the younger children who lived on the farm.

Jason splayed his hand over Greer’s back, leaned in close and pressed a kiss to her temple. He couldn’t believe how sexy she looked in the body-hugging dress and shoes. The double strand of pearls shimmered against her skin. Her heels put the top of her head at his ear, and whenever he looked into her eyes, he felt as if he were drowning in pools of polished amber.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispered in her ear.

She flashed a demure smile. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You don’t know?”

Greer feigned innocence. “No.”

She knew precisely what he was talking about only because she felt the same about Jason. If she hadn’t been assigned to the town where she’d spent her childhood summers, chances are she never would’ve crossed paths with Jason Cole. And she’d expected him to be the quintessential self-centered celebrity with a trail of women worshipping at his feet, but he’d proved to be just the opposite. He was as private as he was solitary, shunning the spotlight when he’d chosen to build a home in a community where privacy had become an absolute rather than a privilege.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll have to show you when we get back to Mission Grove.”

Lowering her lashes, she stared up at Jason. “Will I like it?”

“It’s guaranteed to please.”

The sexy banter ended when they followed the crowd to the tent from which wafted the most mouthwatering aromas. The two farms’ cooks had gotten together to plan the buffet menu. Jackson Hubbard, or Jacks as he was referred to by those living at Cole-Thom, had prepared Latin-infused dishes, while the two cooks at Blackstone Farms had prepared a variety of regional dishes.

Jason led Greer to a table quickly filling up with teenagers. “Sit down and I’ll bring you a plate.”

She sat, placing her small purse next to her. “Hello,” she said when a gangly teenage boy gawked at her. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down several times before he was able to croak his greeting. Greer glanced away rather than add to his obvious embarrassment. The bartenders at the far corner of the tent were checking the IDs of those who didn’t look old enough to drink.

Watching Jason as he moved along the food line, she remembered what Nicholas had said to her the night he drove them from the airport:
The women always say they rule while their men are there to serve them.
Jason had just verified this when he had offered to bring her food. She’d noticed Nicholas, Gavin and Jacob doing the same at the buffet. Their women never got up to get anything because their men were there to serve them. It was a tradition she liked a lot.

She noticed many of the men had shed their jackets with the rising temperature, and a few of the younger children had taken off their shoes to run barefoot on the grass. Ana had revealed the weddings at the Cole family estate were informal in keeping with the celebratory atmosphere of New Year’s Eve. It was also a family tradition that any male claiming Cole blood wore white ties. It was another ritual that had begun when Samuel Cole married Marguerite-Joséfina Diaz.

Greer knew of a lot of asinine family rituals, yet the Coles’ made sense to her. A weeklong family reunion provided more time for family members to bond than one lasting a weekend. New Year’s Eve weddings were the perfect way to celebrate a new year, and also the date for anniversaries was indelibly branded in their husbands’ memories. Music blared from the neighboring tent and couples were up and dancing to the infectious R&B tune. Peyton had revealed her passion for R&B so the playlist covered old and new selections.

Jason returned with two plates, setting them down in front of Greer. “Thanks for saving me a seat. I’m going to get something to drink. What do you want?”

“Either sweet tea or lemonade.”

“Are you sure you don’t want anything stronger?”

She smiled. “Very sure.”

They were scheduled to fly back to Portland later that night and she’d learned over the years never to drink alcohol when flying. The pressurized cabin and the altitude usually made her light-headed. She would take a sip of champagne during the champagne toast, but no more than that.

Waiting for Jason to return, Greer spread a napkin over her lap and arranged their place settings. “What’s in your cup?” she asked when he sat down.

“Sweet tea.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Sweet tea or Long Island Ice Tea?”

He handed her the cup. “Take a sip. See,” he crooned when she nodded. “Alcohol and jetlag don’t mix.”

“Alcohol and flying are a lethal combination for me,” Greer said. Picking up a fork, she stared at the contents of her plate. “What did you give me?”

Taking his fork, Jason pointed to the shredded meat. “That’s
pernil
or roast pork shoulder. The black rice is known as
moro
. And that little ring of goodness is
mofongo
. It’s mashed green plantains with pork, served with a garlic sauce.”

Greer pointed to slices of fried plantains topped with garlic in olive oil. “What’s the garlic sauce called?”

“
Mojito
. It’s not the Cuban cocktail, but a garlicky, oniony, citrusy sauce you can dip or brush on all kinds of things.” Jason kissed her hair. He’d watched her blow-dry her hair before flat ironing it for the wedding; then she had swept it up into a ponytail, tying it with a wide black velvet ribbon.
“Bienvenido al Caribe.”

“That I understand,” Greer confirmed. “Should I assume you want me to learn to cook what’s on my plate?”

“No. I can make everything that’s on your plate.”

Her eyes opened wider. “Why haven’t you?”

“Because I didn’t know whether you’d like it. Eat up, baby, and let me know what you think.”

“Who taught you to cook?”

“My mother.”

Greer took a forkful of
mofongo,
chewing slowly. “Sweet mother of glory! This is so good. Who made this?”

“Nicholas’s cook. He used to own a restaurant in Florida. Miami’s loss is Cole-Thom Farms’ gain.”

“These are the type of dishes we should introduce to our customers at Stella’s.”

“There you go,” Jason said with a wide grin.

Greer didn’t want to believe she’d eaten everything on her plate and yet still wanted more. The spicy food had triggered an unusual thirst and she went to the bar for water. Rousing applause went up under the tent when the wedding party returned from taking photographs, and Nicholas quickly had someone bring Peyton a plate of food. Within minutes of taking a few bites, the natural color returned to her face as she rested her head on her husband’s shoulder.

Jason slipped Greer’s purse into the pocket of his suit jacket. Talking long strides, he took her hand. “Come and dance with me, babe.” He led her into the dance tent, pulling her close to his chest.

She smiled, recognizing the tune. “I love this song.” It was John Legend’s “Tonight.”

“Am I the best you ever had, Greer?”

A slight frown appeared between Greer’s eyes. “Are you talking about the song?”

“No. Am I?” Jason repeated.

Easing back, Greer looked at Jason as if he’d taken leave of his senses. “You have to ask?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you know what you’re asking?” she whispered angrily. “You’re asking me to compare you to the other men I slept with.” She tried extricating her hand only to have Jason tighten his hold on her fingers. “There were two others before you, Jason. A boy in college and Larry, and neither of them were half as good as you. Now, does that answer your question?”

“That wasn’t what I was asking,” Jason rasped in her ear. “I wanted to know if you felt I was worthy of you.”

Humiliation washed over Greer as if she’d been knocked down from a back draft. “Why ask me that now, Jason? You claim you’re committed to me. Well, it’s the same for me. I’m committed to you. Committed enough to spend the rest of my life with you.”

His eyes widened to where she could see the contrast of his pitch-black pupils in the center of liquid gold. “Prove it.”

A nervous laugh escaped her parted lips. “I’ve already proven it. I’m wearing your ring. Isn’t that enough?”

Jason shook his head. “No.”

Greer blinked. “What more do you want?”

“Marry me tomorrow.”

She stumbled, missing a step but Jason righted her. “You’re kidding.”

Jason stopped. “No, I’m not. We’re already in Virginia where there’s no waiting period, and we don’t have to be a resident of the Commonwealth. We can get married the same day we get the license.”

“What’s the rush, Jason? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I’m still conflicted about our living together.”

Jason’s explanation rendered Greer momentarily speechless. Her offer to live with him was akin to walking into a trap of her choosing. Greer cursed her ability of total recall when she remembered him telling her,
Cole men are raised not to shack up with women unless they’re willing to commit.
That was apparent when Nicholas married Peyton within two weeks of her disclosure she was carrying his child instead of them waiting until the end of the year.

“We get married and then what?” she asked.

“We live together as husband and wife.”

Greer glanced around her. The music had stopped, and only she and Jason were left on the dance floor. “Everyone is staring at us. Let’s go someplace where we can talk in private.” Still grasping her hand, Jason led her out of the tent and into an open meadow. “Please stop. I can’t walk on the grass in heels.” Hunkering down, Jason held on to her ankle as he removed one shoe, then the other. She rested a hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat from his body through the fabric of the suit jacket. “What are you doing?”

Jason gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m admiring my handiwork. Your legs look amazing.” He pushed his hand up her thigh. “I need to check to see if you have any stubble on your—”

Greer slapped his hand. “Don’t you dare!”

He stood up straight. “No one can see us out here.”

“I don’t care. I’m not going to let you feel me up out in the open.”

Jason shook his head. “You are a bundle of contradictions.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to defend herself. “Please let me finish. Behind closed doors you are the most uninhibited sexy woman I’ve ever known, but whenever we’re out in public, you put up an invisible wall that says don’t touch. Which one are you?”

Greer closed her eyes. She wanted to tell Jason that behind closed doors she could be herself, but the moment she walked outside, she’d morphed into his protector, someone who’d promised his friend she would keep him safe in his absence.

A tentative smile trembled over her lips. “I’m the woman who loves you so much I would risk giving up my own life to protect you. I’m the woman who has pledged her future to you, and the woman who would have no hesitation having your babies. That’s who I am.”

“Since we’re into true confessions, let me bare my soul. I never had the slightest intention of falling in love, especially with someone who looks like you. I’ve met so many beautiful women that I usually run in the opposite direction. But you are different because you’re beautiful inside and out. You probably tagged me as a libertine, bed-hopping musician but I’m just the opposite.” Jason cradled Greer’s face. “I love you. But I can’t continue to cohabitate with you until after we’re married.”

Greer wanted to ask Jason what was the difference between waiting three months or the next day? If he’d been any other man, she would’ve moved out and continued to date him. But he wasn’t any other man. He was someone unaware he’d been targeted for death by a vengeful rival businessman.

“We’ve known each other eight weeks, been engaged for one week, and now you’re talking about marrying tomorrow. I’m willing to bet we’ll have the shortest engagement on record.”

“No, we won’t, Greer. My uncle Josh holds the record for the shortest. He met Vanessa on a business trip to Mexico and married her eight days later. And they’re still married. My dad knew my mother six weeks before marrying her, and she was pregnant with my older brother to boot.”