A Wedding on Bluebird Way Page 15

  “Yes.” If she’d run into Hank months ago, felt the incredible chemistry between them, it might have changed things. “That might have stopped me from becoming Serendipity’s runaway bride.”

  “No. No more regret.” He squeezed her hips. “Not tonight.”

  She nodded. He was right. Regret and guilt didn’t solve anything. Except maybe give her a kick in the pants to do the right thing. “Are you going to stay here tonight or do you have to get back home?”

  “I can stay. My shift doesn’t start till ten tomorrow morning. I’ll take the couch.”

  “The bed’s big enough for two.” She stepped out of his arms. Walking around him, she tossed over her shoulder, “We proved last night we could both sleep in it without using it to its full potential. I think we can control ourselves again tonight.”

  She got ready for bed, washing her face clean of makeup and changing into the sleep cami and short set she’d bought. Stepping out, she peeked around the door to the bedroom. “The bathroom’s free.”

  He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her legs. “Thanks. I got some sweats from my Jeep to sleep in.”

  She snuggled on the bed as he took a shower. When he stepped out of the bathroom, billows of steam followed him.

  “I forgot to buy sheets,” she told him. “So we’re using the comforter as the base, and I unzipped your sleeping bag for our blanket.” She lifted one edge of the sleeping bag. “Climb on in.”

  He did and stared at the ceiling as she snapped off the light. His body was tense, edgy, and Savannah knew it was going to be a long night for both of them.

  Tossing his hand behind his head, he blew out a breath.

  “Hank?”

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “Can you not take this the wrong way?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but flipped over onto her side, rested her head on his shoulder, and flung an arm over his chest.

  “Uh . . . ?”

  “I’m not changing my mind about sleeping with you tonight, but I don’t want there to be inches of space between us.” She lifted her head, scooted a little closer, and settled back down. “Is this okay?”

  He brought his arm down and rested his hand on the small of her back. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he told her. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled deeply and pulled her closer.

  She yawned. “Good.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded drowsy. “I can’t remember ever sleeping as well as I did last night in your arms.”

  Cupping her elbow at his stomach, he ran his thumb up and down her skin. “Go to sleep,” he said, his voice gruff.

  Savannah smiled. No, Hank wasn’t big on talking. But by holding her like this, not pushing her on having sex, he was showing her everything she needed to know.

  Chapter Six

  Savannah zipped up the sleeping bag and brushed the wrinkles out of the bed’s comforter. It was Monday, but she didn’t have to hurry to her job. She’d taken the next two weeks off, expecting to be on her honeymoon. But that didn’t mean she could laze about. She’d stuck her head in the sand for two days, and it was time to face up to the firing squad back home.

  Padding to the kitchen, she spotted another white box. She lifted the lid and saw the pastry choices for the day were bear claws and cherry Danish. Hank was a god among men. Danish in mouth, she pulled the piece of paper out from under the box and read Hank’s note.

  A smile tugged at her lips. Who would have thought the boy who’d rolled his eyes at her and yanked on her pigtail could be so sweet? And why couldn’t he have moved back to Serendipity two years ago? This whole mess might never have happened.

  She picked up a bear claw and pulled off one of the little toes. It was a good thing she’d run away in leggings. The way she was eating, she’d need the elastic waistband.

  Trudging into the living room, she flopped back on the sofa. If she’d connected with Hank sooner, the mess with Chance might not have happened, but she was kidding herself if she thought it would have been smooth sailing. Hank was right about her parents—they wouldn’t approve of her relationship with an Evans.

  She shoved a bite of pastry into her mouth. And would she have gone along to get along with her parents? Turned Hank down if he’d asked her out two years ago?

  The bear claw turned to dust in her mouth. She’d been such a coward. Following the path her parents chose instead of forging her own. And because of her weakness, she’d hurt a lot of people.

  The key turned in the lock, and Savannah’s gaze darted to the door, her heart leaping at the thought that Hank had forgotten something.

  Kat Gonzalez stepped through the door. She jerked to a stop when she caught sight of Savannah. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have knocked.”

  Rolling to her feet, Savannah shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” She started to run her hand through the rat’s nest she called hair, remembered she was holding a bear claw, and lowered her arm. “I wasn’t expecting you to come back until next weekend. Do you have another showing today?”

  Closing the door, the woman dropped her purse on the narrow counter. “I was in the neighborhood and decided to swing by to see if anything needed to be straightened up.”

  Savannah curled her toes into the wood floor. “Because of me?” She cupped her other hand under her pastry to catch any errant crumbs. “I bought some supplies. I’ll make sure to clean everything today.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” Kat tipped her head, and her sleek ponytail slipped off her shoulder.

  “So, you were in the Army?” Savannah asked. She looked at the woman’s skirt suit and immaculate makeup. Except for the acres of toned leg that you only got from jogging every day, it was hard to believe the beautiful woman had been in the military. “Hank told me about you.”

  Kat smiled. “I know my persona now is deceptive, but I loved the Army. I would have re-upped if my parents hadn’t thrown a fit. They wanted their baby girl back home popping out grandbabies.”

  Laughter burbled up Savannah’s throat. “I get that. I almost married a really decent man to please my folks.”

  “A decent man?” Kat mock shuddered. “The horror.”

  “You have no idea.” Savannah turned toward the kitchen. “Hey, you want a pastry?”

  The real estate agent followed her in, and peered into the box. “I’ll have to add another two miles to my run tonight.” Picking up a Danish, she took a big bite. “Worth it,” she said around her mouthful.

  Savannah smiled. She had a feeling she and Kat could be kindred spirits.

  “I remember when Hank brought me food in the morning when we were dating.” Kat swirled her finger in the cherry jelly and licked it off. “Talk about a decent guy.”

  Savannah’s stomach plummeted to her toes. “You and Hank used to date?”

  Kat stopped chewing. Eyes wide, she swallowed her bite down. “I thought you knew. You said Hank told you about me.”

  “No. Yes. Of course.” Savannah dropped her half-eaten claw in the box. “He said you were friends. I just didn’t realize how close.” She tugged on the hem of her tank top. So this was Hank’s type? Professional, strong, and sensible? She looked down at her bare feet. The red nail polish seemed frivolous. Her escape had been a train wreck. Hank had met her on one of her worst days. She’d been one red-hot mess. How would that image measure up to the image of his tough-as-nails former flame?

  “It wasn’t a big thing.” Kat wiped sugar off her hands. “It was just for a couple of months when we got out of the Army.”

  “No need to explain.” And no need to prolong the embarrassment. “I’m going to get started on the cleaning.” Savannah took a step toward the door and paused. “Oh, but I should tell you that there’s a small stain on the comforter. I spilled some nail polish remover on it.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’ll replace it.”

  “No worries. I can get a new one before this weekend.”

  “At least let me give you some money—”

  Kat wa
ved a hand. “I’ll charge Hank for it,” she said with a wink. “Well, I should get going. I have a new listing I need to work on. It was nice talking to you, Savannah. I hope you enjoy your stay in Dallas.”

  Friendly and professional to the end. It was hard not to like Kat, even though Savannah really wanted to try. Kat and Hank should have worked as a couple. Savannah wondered why they hadn’t lasted.

  “Thanks.” She followed the woman to the door and waved good-bye before closing it. She leaned against the frame and let her head fall back against the wood. Her stomach churned. She felt adrift. Like she was being tossed about by a tornado with no way to control her landing.

  And it was time she got her life together.

  Pushing off the door, she got to work cleaning all traces of her visit from Hank’s condo. She packed up her things and dropped her bag by the door. She picked up her bluebonnets and wandered to the kitchen. Dumping the water and throwing out the OJ bottle, she wrapped the flowers in a paper towel, but didn’t have much hope that they’d survive the trip. But she’d try. The pastries, however, she’d have to leave behind. They wouldn’t fit on the Ducati. And maybe it was time she got control of her eating, just as she planned on taking control of her life.

  She flipped over the piece of paper Hank had written his note on and penned one of her own. He hadn’t said anything, but she suspected he would come back to the condo tonight. And stupidly, she’d never gotten his phone number.

  With one last look at what had been her haven, she scooped up her keys and left Hank’s home. It was time to face the music.

  * * *

  Hank pointed his speed gun at the red pickup barreling down the highway. Fifty-three. Not high enough to pull it over. He dropped his arm outside the open window of his patrol truck and sighed. He enjoyed the slower pace of being a country cop. The lack of stress.

  But when he was itching to get back to Dallas, to Savannah, the hours with little to do seemed to stretch into eternity. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glanced at the dashboard clock. Again. And still an hour left on his shift.

  Picking up the receiver to the radio, he called in to dispatch. “Hey, Janine. Anything going on I can get involved in? A robbery? Drunk and disorderly?” He dropped his head against the seat rest. “Hell, I’ll even take a shoplifting case right about now.”

  The radio crackled. “Sorry, sweetie. All’s quiet on the home front.”

  Perfect. Why did his hometown have to be so damn law-abiding? He glanced at the clock again. Not even a minute had passed. He hung up the receiver in disgust.

  A trail of dust signaled a vehicle approaching. Hank waited, and waited, and didn’t even bother raising the speed gun as the aged Corolla limped past.

  He needed another Savannah tearing out of town on a Ducati to liven things up. His lips twitched. God, she’d been cute. And sexy. Long hair blowing back with the wind. Bare feet on the pedals. Not much was hotter than a woman on a fast bike. A woman like her would be hell on wheels to handle, and Hank looked forward to the opportunity.

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he slid it out, looking at the screen. He answered. “Hey, Kat. What’s up?”

  “You’re not with Savannah right now, are you?”

  He sat up taller in his seat. “No. Why are you asking?”

  “Well, I had a little conversation with her this morning,” she said. “I went to buy a new comforter for your bed, and when I got back she was gone.”

  “Okaaay. So?” Tossing the speed gun on the seat beside him, Hank rubbed his neck. “She’s probably out sightseeing.”

  “Well, in our conversation, I might have mentioned that you and I used to date. I don’t think she was too happy to hear it.”

  “Why would you tell her that?”

  She sniffed. “I thought she knew. It’s not like I’m a dirty secret.”

  “No. Of course not.” He dug his knuckle into his breastbone. “I’m sure it will be okay. I’ll talk to her.” Why hadn’t he told Savannah that he and Kat used to date? It shouldn’t have been a big deal. He and Savannah both had pasts, and Hank hadn’t thought it worth mentioning. If he’d told Savannah when he’d said he and Kat were friends, it wouldn’t have been a thing.

  “Yeah, well, like I said, I’m back in your condo. And she left you a note.”

  Hank waited. “Well,” he said, beating a tattoo on the steering wheel. “What’s it say?”

  “Maybe you should come read it yourself.”

  “Kat.” His tone showed he was out of patience.

  She cleared her throat. “‘Hank. I’m going to find Chance. I know you think he’s partly responsible for my mess, but he’s a good man, and I treated him horribly. It’s time I grew up and did the responsible thing. The adult thing. I hope you understand. P.S. Thank you for the bear claws.’”

  Hank’s knuckles went white around the steering wheel. “‘Thank you for the bear claws’?” Savannah was going back to her pansy fiancé, and all Hank got was a thank-you for the pastries?

  “She did seem very polite,” Kat said. “I liked her. I hope you two can make it work.”

  “Thanks, Kat,” he bit out. “Gotta go.” Hanging up, he tossed his phone next to him in disgust. Make it work? How could any man make it work with a woman who was a constant flight risk?

  Was she with Worthington now? Had Worthington forgiven her for ditching him at the altar? Everyone in town thought the man was a great guy. Nice. Decent. Why wouldn’t he take Savannah back?

  So that was that. For a couple of nights Hank got to hold an amazing, impulsive woman, and now her wild and spontaneous time was over. She was going to grow up, whatever the hell that meant, and marry the man her parents approved of.

  His heart burned, and he dug the heel of his palm into his chest. It was as it should be. Savannah would be well taken care of. And Worthington was the luckiest bastard alive. Right now, he was probably holding her, tasting her, burying his nose in her sweet mop of hair....

  Hank turned the key in the ignition. To hell with that. The damn fool woman might think she was doing the right thing, but she would die a little bit inside each day if she married that wuss. That flame inside of her would darken each day until it was snuffed out.

  Hank wouldn’t allow it.

  He flipped on his sirens and hit the gas. The F-150’s wheels spun, then the truck fishtailed in the dirt before he straightened it out and rolled onto the highway. He lifted the radio receiver again. “Janine, I need you.”

  The radio crackled. “Well, that didn’t take as long as I’d thought. I had a five-year plan to slowly seduce you, and you caved in three months. I’m better than I knew.”

  He didn’t have time for her jokes today. “I need you to get on the local grapevine and give me a location on Savannah Loving. It’s urgent.”

  “Police business urgent? Is she in trouble?”

  “She’s only in trouble with me.” Hank blared past Serendipity’s welcome sign, the early evening sunlight slanting across it, and eased his foot off the accelerator.

  “On it,” Janine said. “Give me five.”

  It was three minutes before she came back on the radio. “Savannah’s back at the scene of the crime. At the Bluebird Inn.”

  Hanging a U-turn, Hank looked at the nearly empty road and gunned it toward the inn. “Thanks, Janine.”

  “So, why are you looking for our runaway bride? Did she—”

  Hank turned off the radio. The gossip mill was an amazing tool, and he had no doubt he would be a part of it tonight. But he didn’t need to make it easy for people like Janine.

  The grand Victorian came into view, its elegant roofline standing out against the blue sky. The yard was empty, and there was only one vehicle, the Ducati, in the parking lot—a far cry from the hive of activity it had been on Saturday. Pulling off the road, Hank cut the engine and jumped out of the truck. He pushed through the inn’s front door and strode past the unmanned reception desk, to the parlor. Empty.
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  Pulse pounding, Hank turned in a slow circle. She couldn’t be upstairs in a room with the yahoo. There was no way they’d wait two years only to give in to hot, steamy make-up sex. Grinding his teeth together, he ran for the stairs. If that son of a bitch was touching his woman—

  He froze, hand on the railing, and peered out the window alongside the staircase. Savannah sat cross-legged in the backyard, head tipped back to take in the sun’s dwindling rays. And luckily for Worthington’s face, she was alone.

  Hank turned and made for the garden. He hadn’t been invited to the wedding, but he recognized the spot where she sat. It was where the temporary altar had been set up under an ivy-draped pergola. Where she was to have spoken her vows.

  Pushing through the garden gate, he stalked toward her. The grass was flattened in a long line stretching from the gate to Savannah, where a carpet runner must have smashed it down. “Where is he?” Hank asked as he got close. He dropped to a squat before her and frowned. “Are you okay?”

  She lowered her head and gave him a brilliant smile. “I’m perfect.”

  “You’re a damn fool, is what you are.” Plucking up a stem of grass, he chucked it down again. “You won’t be happy with him. You ran away for a reason. Can’t you see that?”

  She leaned back on one hand and brought the other up to shield her eyes from the sun. “Won’t be happy with who? What are you talking about?”

  “You and Worthington.” Hank swallowed down bile at that name. “Just because you got angry with me is no reason to go crawling back to that man. If he didn’t make you happy in the two years you were together, he’s not going to make you happy for the rest of your life.”

  She pursed her lips. “I’m not mad at you. Why?” She narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”

  He scratched his jaw. This conversation wasn’t going as he had expected. “You were mad because you found out I used to date Kat. It wasn’t serious, Savannah.”

  “I wasn’t mad about that.” Rolling her eyes, she got to her feet. Hank stood as well and helped her up.