What the Heart Wants (16 page)

The last twenty-four hours had been madness. But one look at Chelsea made the chaos worth it.

“You are a vision, Chels.” Heaven whispered, trying to prevent her voice from shaking as much as her insides were. She blinked away the moisture from her eyes as she spread the veil around Chelsea’s shoulders and back. “Kyle’s heart is going to melt when he sees you

“Thanks, Hev.” Chelsea’s lips teased out a smile. “I can’t wait to see him, too. By the way, you look beautiful.”

“You both do,” Emma said as she and Hope sauntered over from the window. “Kyle won’t be the only one in awe. Dylan’s mouth will hit the floor when you walk down the—ouch! Why’d you pinch me?”

Heaven turned to look at them. Emma was rubbing the arm closest to Hope.

“Bad subject to be bringing up right now, Emma.” Hope said, exaggerating Emma’s name.

“Why is it so bad to talk about Dylan?”

“Because of the newspaper thingy.”

Wow. Hope was suffering from loose lip syndrome today. First she spilled the dream secret to Chelsea, now she was telling Emma about the newspaper article.

Had she told Emma about the dreams, too?

Emma stopped rubbing her arm and focused on Heaven. “You’re not letting that story bother you, are you?”

“Not really,” Heaven lied. She glanced around the Sunday school room, looking at all the crafts from the children who attended.

Great. Lying in church. She was going to hell.

“The article serves its purpose. If the press is wondering about me, they’ll be too distracted to think about Chelsea’s wedding.” What an understatement. “And as long as Dylan isn’t offended, the article doesn’t bother me.”

Turning toward her best friend, Heaven continued playing with Chelsea’s veil. Anything to avoid eye contact with her sister and their new friend.

She sneaked a peak at Emma just in time to see her wink. “Trust me; Dylan won’t be bothered by the article.”

Okay…did she know something Heaven didn’t?

Her forehead bunched. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve known Dylan as long as I’ve known my husband. Dylan knows how to handle the press.”

Heat rose in Heaven’s cheeks. Was Emma insinuating something?

Emma stepped forward. Her fingers encircled Heaven’s arm and squeezed softly. “Hope told me that the reporter asked if you and Dylan were a couple. Did Dylan really tell him no comment?”

Heaven nodded and gazed down at the floor. She wanted to count the specks in the tile more than she wanted to discuss Dylan. Or the article.

“Sometimes you have to read between the lines with these guys.” Whatever that meant. “You see, Dylan knew exactly what he was doing when he gave that answer. No comment means he’s interested. But he doesn’t know if you are. Did he say anything after the reporter left?”

“He apologized for being vague with the reporter. Said his comment would cause more problems for me.”

Boy, was he right. Front-page news problems. So much for a relaxing getaway in L.A. Why did drama follow her everywhere?

Emma’s chin dropped toward her chest. Her hairline shifted with her brows. “Did he say anything else?”

Heaven swept through the memories like a rolodex spinning out of control. It was hard to concentrate on everything Dylan had said to her. All she could think of was his dark, brooding eyes. The perfect vertical groove of his top lip. The plumpness of his bottom one. What she wouldn’t do to run her tongue across his lips.

What the…Where the heck did that come from? She’d never thought about a guy like this before. Why now? Why him?

Dylan was a rock star. Had millions of adoring fans. She didn’t want to be involved with someone like him. Yet somehow, his world continued to draw her in.

“Heaven?” Hope’s words finally broke through the mental seduction unfolding in Heaven’s mind. “Did you go off into space?”

Was her sister asking a question or making a statement?

Heaven knew her cheeks must be the same shade as Emma’s lip-gloss. The look on Hope’s face was proof of that.

“Ss-Sorry,” she said, stumbling over her words. “I was trying to remember exactly what he said.”

Another lie.

She wasn’t just going to hell. She would be a VIP.

Suspicion blazed in Hope’s eyes. Lovely. Hiding anything from Hope was like trying to hide an Adam’s apple on a drag queen.

Impossible.

Heaven leaned against one of the wooden craft tables. She needed something to give her support, especially when she thought about Dylan. Why did thinking of him make the room spin?

“I told him that the paparazzi wouldn’t harass me because I’m nobody special. Unlike him. He’s someone important.”

“Did he respond to that?” Emma asked.

“He told me I was wrong…that I’m beautiful and that I turned every head in the room when we met.”

Stupid cheeks. They stung like a sunburn. It was Dylan’s fault. He’d made her stomach knot with those words.

“See!” Emma’s laugh reverberated through the room as she tapped Heaven's shoulder. “What did I tell you? He was flirting with you.”

“Save it, Em. I’ve been trying to convince her of the same thing since yesterday,” Chelsea said as she adjusted the tiara on her veil. “Hev’s not
interested
in a musician.”

“Why not? They’re romantic.”

Emma’s wriggling brows made Heaven want to laugh. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself.

She didn’t come to L.A to be fixed up with anyone, let alone a musician. And after her last relationship, dating in general was as appealing as driving needles under her fingernails.

No, thanks.

But when her mind shifted to Dylan, her belly flipped.

Darn it.

Motion from the right caught Heaven’s attention. She turned to see the door opening. She hoped it wasn’t Kyle, trying to get a glimpse of his bride-to-be. Brooke would beat the crap out of him. She double-checked the vanity where Brooke and Faith were making last minute adjustments. Both were caught up in the reflections staring back them.

Good. If Kyle were on the other side of the door, he was safe.

For now.

But it wasn’t Kyle. Light green eyes stared into the room. A six-foot frame of pure muscle accompanied them. He wasn’t as well built as Dylan, but the guy definitely took care of himself.

Who in the world?

“Um, I think we have a creeper,” Heaven whispered as Chelsea spun toward the door.

“That’s not a creeper. It’s Zeke,” Chelsea answered. “I wonder what he wants.”

“Zeke?”

“Yeah, he’s the drummer in Kyle’s band. Geez, Hev, you knew who Kyle was. How do you not know his drummer?” Chelsea teased. She waved at Zeke, motioning him to enter the room.

Thin lips peeked out from a neatly trimmed goatee and turned upward. He ran his fingers through scraggly brown hair before walking over to them. Heaven wondered how he got anything through that mess on his head. Each strand seemed to have a mind of its own.

Not like Dylan’s hair. Dylan’s dark tresses were perfect. Every now and then, his long bangs would fall into his eyes, but when he shook them away…

Good, God, she was doing it, again. Allowing Dylan to control her thoughts.

This had to stop.

She refocused on Zeke, who now stood in front of them.

He wasn’t bad-looking, but not really Heaven’s type. Did she have a type?

Dylan.

No, not Dylan.

She didn’t realize how loud she had exhaled until Zeke met her gaze. Something about the way his eyes pierced her had Heaven wishing she had a shawl. Not just to block out the chills his staring gave her, but to prevent his eyes from roaming over her skin.

She took a deep breath when he refocused on Chelsea.

Zeke’s smile outshined the Hollywood sign. His eyes wandered up and down Chelsea’s body, which increased Heaven’s discomfort level.

“You are absolutely stunning. Kyle is such a lucky man.”

“Thanks, Zeke. You’re such a sweetheart.” Chelsea laughed.

Gag.

What was so amusing about a guy undressing you with his eyes? A guy that you weren’t about to meet at the end of the aisle?

“Just being honest,” he said as his eyes paused on Chelsea’s breast. Heaven swore she saw him lick his lips.

“Are you sure you want to marry Kyle? I don’t think the pastor would mind a last minute change in grooms.”

Chelsea burst into laughter as she turned toward the mirror. “Of course, I’m sure. You’re such a jokester.”

Gross. How could her best friend keep her cool?

As if reading her mind, Zeke glanced at Heaven before flashing his creepy grin in her direction.

Can you say Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland?

“Hello, beautiful. I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Zeke Landon, and you are?”

Did she really have to talk to him?

“This is my best friend from Ohio, Heaven Lewis.” Chelsea answered, giving Heaven a wink. “The cutie beside Emma is her sister, Hope. And their other sister, Faith, is across the room with Brooke.”

“Enchanté,” he said as he leaned in to kiss Heaven’s and Hope’s hands.

Heaven fought the urge to vomit on Zeke’s feet when his lips touched her skin. She mustered a smile for Chelsea’s sake.

“It’s…nice meeting you, too.” No sense in worrying about the lies. She’d already sealed her spot in hell. “Sorry, Zeke, but you’ll have to excuse us. It’s almost time for the wedding.” She pointed toward the door. “You should go find your seat.”

Zeke backed away. He raised his hands like white flags of defeat. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to take up your time. I will see you lovely ladies in a few.” He shot Chelsea another glance. Or was it a wink? “You
are
beautiful…too beautiful for Kyle.”

“Good riddance,” Heaven mumbled when Zeke disappeared behind the door.

“What’s wrong, Hev?”

Was Chelsea really asking her that?

“He should change his name to Clark. He has X-ray vision mastered.”

“That’s just Zeke. He’s a flirt.” Chelsea chuckled.

No kidding.

“Seriously, Hev. Zeke’s a big teddy bear.”—More like grizzly bear—“Don’t waste your time worrying over him.”

Another knock on the door had Heaven on the defense. If Zeke stuck his cocky little head in the room, again, Heaven swore she’d toss one of her heels at him.

Thankfully, it was Mr. McConnell, Chelsea’s dad.

Time for the wedding.

* * *

Rose petals blanketed the taffeta aisle runner. Something that beautiful didn’t deserve to be walked upon. Heaven did so reluctantly as she followed Brooke down the aisle. Many unfamiliar faces stared back at her from the pews.

Just what she wanted. More attention. Were they curious as to who she was? Worse, had they read this morning’s edition of
Truth Newspaper
?

Her eyes dashed up the aisle in search of Dylan.

Oh, my.

If seeing him in t-shirt and jeans hadn’t made her heart race, seeing him in a tux would have.

Her heart took an extra beat.

This plan to keep him at a distance and away from her heart wasn’t working out well. The more he entered her mind, the longer he remained there. And seeing him added more ammunition to her daydream arsenal. His gaze was a shot to her heart.

Would one date hurt?

No…

Yes!

She had to be strong about this. If only her stupid legs would stop shaking.

Dylan diverted his gaze to Kyle. Finally. His eyes were off her. That’s what she wanted. Right?

So why did it feel like someone had punched her in the stomach?

Heaven looked over at Elizabeth McConnell. At least one familiar face stood out in the crowd. She enjoyed the warmth of Mrs. McConnell’s smile. Until she noticed Zeke’s beady little eyes peering at her. Why was that creep sitting on the bride’s side of the church?

Her gaze fell down to her dress. She was still wearing it, right? It hadn’t slipped off? Nope. The tight bodice squeezed her breasts when she breathed.

Zeke’s creepy stare…the man was screwing with her.

She continued down the aisle until she reached the altar where Kyle and Dylan were standing, as were the rest of the guys. But Heaven had barely noticed anyone but Dylan. So he was the best man. She wasn’t expecting that.

Why wouldn’t he look at her?

She stepped to the left, wedging her body between Brooke and the steps to the choir pews. Giving Hope and Faith an approving smile, her eyes went to Dylan once more.

Coffee, anyone? Yep, those espresso eyes were fixed on her, again. Well, maybe. His eyes darted to Zeke for a second, then back to her.

Was he frowning?

Dear, God, he didn’t think she was interested in Zeke, did he?

Yuck.

Finally. A smile. Amazing how such a little gesture could make her skin blaze.

At least the wedding march cooled the inferno spreading across her skin.

Heaven’s eyes went back to the archway she’d passed through moments ago. Chelsea stood there, looking like she’d stepped out of a fairytale book and into the present. The pride on Mr. McConnell’s face matched his wife’s.

Glancing around the church, Heaven watched as every face locked on the father-daughter duo.

Except one.

And for the first time since meeting him, she didn’t mind that Dylan’s eyes were glued to her.

* * *

No fairytale wedding would be complete without a grand reception. Chelsea and Kyle had picked the perfect location. An estate overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

Chelsea said Kyle came from money. As did his family’s friends. And this friend was generous enough to offer his home for the reception.

Heaven gazed out the curtain wall at the Pacific Coast. Each rolling wave stole her breath. She would go play in those waves before this trip was over.

She looked back into the ballroom, her eyes falling over the clover tablecloths and lemon candles. Mr. McConnell had spared no expense for Chelsea’s wedding.

He owed her that much.

The delicate scent of daffodils lingered in the air. How appropriate to use a flower that represented the triumph of hope over despair.