Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles)

Dedication

For Ms Jill

May you dance among the angels forevermore

Acknowledgements

There are always people I need to thank for supporting me throughout this writing endeavor. My awesome critique partners, Misty Evans and Bonnie Johnston. Thank you for your continued support and help with brainstorming and making me a better writer. My proofreader, Nickie Wallace, who keeps telling me we’ll be wearing Coach Sunglasses when I hit a list. My husband, Robert, who is not only my line editor but also my biggest fan. I could not do this without his love and support. It means more to me than words can say. My Plotting Princesses who are always there for support and encouragement! You gals understand all the trials and tribulations of this crazy business and I don’t think I could survive without you. Y’all are the bomb! And, of course, my family. Love and thanks to you all, always!

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

About the Author

Other Titles by Michelle Miles

Sneak Peek of Tempting Eden

Chapter One

“Crowning time,” Delilah Storm announced.

The bridesmaids squealed with excitement. Delilah rolled her eyes.

Marion Parker’s best friend and maid of honor held the sparkling tiara and veil in one hand while gathered bobby pins with the other.

“Don’t mess up my hair,” Marion warned.
She air-patted her perfect coif. She’d spent six hours at the salon on her hair and make-up. Her auburn tresses were piled high on her head with baby’s breath in the curls.

“Yes, bridezilla.”
Delilah gave her a sour look with pursed lips.

Marion stood in her white dress
and admired her reflection. The dress was perfection right down to the last hand-sewn glass bead along the hem and chapel-length train. She searched for months for the perfect dress, dragging her mother and Delilah to every bridal shop and bridal show in town. Delilah was not the bride-y type and hated every second of it. But she went along anyway as a good sport. She’d already been married once. It hadn’t ended well. She vowed she would never marry again.

A blush-colored sash accentuated
Marion’s small waist. Around her neck she wore her grandmother’s pearls as her “something old.” Pearl teardrop earrings served as her “something borrowed” from her mother. The “something blue” was a secret on her thigh she wanted Ethan to find and gown served as the “something new.”

Her bridesmaids giggl
ed and helped each other dress in their conservative pale blush gowns. Well, except for Delilah. She was a no-nonsense kind of gal and picked a strapless sexy number much to Marion’s chagrin.

Everything was perfect for Marion’s special day and she couldn’t be happier. In just a few hours, she would be Mrs. Ethan Michael Baxter III. She sighed wistfully
.

Glancing down at the two carat diamond ring, she saw promises of a future with the man she loved. Of that house with the white picket fence and kids running through the yard. Cartoons playing during morning breakfasts. A dog. Maybe a cat
.

Behind her, Delilah carefully placed the crown with miles and miles of tulle on her head. “Now hold still
.”

Delilah insisted on wearing a pair of four inch Christian Louboutins for
the big day—in pale blush to match the dress exactly, of course—which meant she stood at six feet tall. She had no problem seeing the top of Marion’s head as she fumbled with the bobby pins. She had a pin pinched between her dark red lips and Marion idly wondered if she’d leave lipstick behind. She knew better than to say anything, especially when Delilah stabbed her scalp.

“Ow!”

“Hold still. Almost done.” Delilah muttered around the pin.

In the reflection, Marion watched Delilah
carefully position the glittering tiara on her head. She winced as another bobby pin stabbed her scalp.

“Sorry, Mar,” Delilah said. “There. Does that feel secure?”

“Yes. Thanks, Sweeney Todd.” She smoothed strands of hair upward.

“Har. Har.” Her maid of honor stuck out her tongue in Delilah fashion before grabbing a can of hairspray. “One more coat should seal it.”

She sprayed liberally, leaving a cloud hanging in the air and Marion choking on the fumes. “Del, I think that’s good.”

“Just trying to make sure you’re perfect for your day,” Delilah said in a sing-song voice. She turned toward the mirror and fluffed her wavy strawberry blonde locks. “You look calm.”

“I am calm.”

She had never been so sure about anything in her life. Okay, so she had a few butterflies
. She looked forward to spending the next week on her honeymoon with her new husband. Just her, Ethan and a Jamaican beach. Bliss.

Ethan was everything she ever wanted. Kind, thoughtful, sweet, caring.
Not to mention handsome. She tried to ignore the niggling thought at the back of her mind that things hadn’t been so picture perfect lately. He’d withdrawn from her. She’d decided it was wedding jitters and that was why she and Ethan hadn’t slept together in a few months. She felt certain once they walked down the aisle and pledged their love for each other all that would change.

Delilah handed her the oversized bouquet.
“You look fantastic, Mar,” she said, smiling at her reflection.

“
Why are you surprised?” Marion teased.

“I shouldn’t be after seeing your analness in full swing,” Delilah replied. “You’re kind of a micro-manager.”

“I want perfection. After all, I’m only doing this once.”

There was a quick knock on the door before it opened and her mother entered.

“Oh, darling!” she gasped. “You look breathtaking.” She kissed her soundly on the cheek.

“Mother, please,” Marion groaned. “You’ll muss me.” Her mother rubbed the lipstick imprint from
her cheek.

“I’m sorry, dear. But you do look breathtaking.” She stood back, clasping her hands together, looking at her
with a wistful smile. Marion was sure she saw the glimmer of a tear there.

“Thanks.” Marion forced a smile on her face. She was ready to get the show on the road. What was the hold up?

“I think it’s about time, isn’t it?” her mother said cheerfully, holding her by the shoulders.

“Yes
, it is,” Marion said tightly. “Where’s Dad?”

“Waiting in the foyer, dear
.”

“I think we should head that way,”
she suggested.

Before her mother could reply, there was another knock on the door. This time, the best man, Graeme Butler, poked
in his head. His large, six-foot frame filled up the entire doorway. He had an odd look on his face, one Marion couldn’t quite read. Worry? Nerves?

“Can I come in?”
He forced a smile as he peered into the room.

“Hi, Graeme
. Yes, yes. Come in.” Marion waved him inside.

She couldn’t help but notice how
smashing he looked in his tux. Especially since all she ever saw him in were jeans and T-shirts. He even wore the pale blush cummerbund and bow tie. She wasn’t sure he would after making such a ruckus about it being too “feminine” for him.

“You wore it.” She pointed to the pale-colored tie
.

Graeme glanced down, ran his hand down
his shirt. “I knew you’d have my head if I didn’t.” They shared a laugh and then he turned serious. “Can I, uh, talk to you a second, Marion? Alone?” His shoved his hands deep into his pockets as he stood in the doorway, that same weird look on his face.

Alarm bells suddenly rang in her head. “Why? What’s wrong?”
She clutched the bouquet tighter in her hand. Heat flashed through her entire body and sweat broke out on her palms.

“I need a minute.” Graeme couldn’t look her in the
eye. Her stomach plummeted to her toes.

“
We’ll wait outside.” Her mother bit her lower lip as she waved the bridesmaids toward the door.

“I’m staying,” Delilah said
. She put one hand on a slender hip.

“I really need to talk to her alone,” Graeme insisted.

“I’m not leaving,” Delilah said with a shake of her head.

“Graeme, you can talk to me in front of her.” Marion knew her friend well enough to know she
wouldn’t back down.

Her mother ushered
the girls out of the dressing room. Once they were gone, Graeme closed the door quietly and still looked at her with that odd look.

“What’s this about?” she asked. When he remained silent, she prompted him. “Graeme?”

Still with his hands in his pockets, he finally lifted his gaze from the floor. Then he glanced at Delilah and back to her again. He took two giant steps toward her, removing one hand from his pocket. He held a crumpled piece of paper in his fist.

Time stopped and for a split second all she could hear was the rustle of the paper and the heavy breath she expelled. Her stomach clenched in a tight knot. Her throat constricted.
Every bit of calm drained from her making her light-headed. Was his hand shaking or was it her imagination? And what did he have to be so nervous about?

“See, it’s like this.” He was a mere breath away from her. “Maybe you should sit down.”

She feared the worst when she saw that paper. Feared what it could be. It had to be from Ethan and only moments before they were to be married. Her next question was why?

“
I don’t want to sit down, Graeme. Give it to me.” She held out her shaking hand palm up. Delilah hadn’t budged an inch next to her.

With a grimace, he pushed
the paper into her hand. She held it a moment, her heart throbbing madly, afraid to open it. But she
had
to, didn’t she? She handed the bouquet to Delilah and unfolded it. Ethan’s handwriting scrawled across the page in a hurried, sloppy script.

Marion –

I’m sorry. I can’t.

Ethan

“What the hell is this?” Marion crumpled it in her fist. Much like he had moments ago. “What does this mean, he can’t? He can’t what?” She shook it at Graeme.