The Wedding that Wasn't Page 9

  When they pulled into the driveway of the Bluebird Inn, Felicity could have sworn she saw a flash of blue zip by. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the possibility.

  “Was that a bluebird?” she asked Tom.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Was it?”

  “Let’s go see.” She hopped out of the car.

  “Slow down,” he said, following her. “You just had surgery.”

  “Biopsy. Minor. I’m fine.” She plunged ahead, plowing through the garden gate, Tom on her heels.

  He caught up to her by the time she reached the edge of the peach orchard. Felicity stopped in her tracks.

  For there, flitting among the birdhouses, were dozens of bluebirds.

  A shiver of joy passed over her. The moment was so miraculous that she dug her fingernails into her palms to see if she was dreaming.

  “Look,” she whispered. “Just look at all the bluebirds!”

  “Wow,” he breathed, slipping an arm around her waist. “We did it,” he whispered. “We brought the bluebirds home.”

  Home.

  Such a lovely word, warm and hopeful and full of promise. This place was her home . . . but not his. Maybe it could be if she stopped pushing him away. Stopped erecting those boundaries to protect her heart. He said he’d had an epiphany, and she believed him.

  “This is amazing,” he said. “Absolutely amazing.”

  “They’re here. You brought them back. You did this.”

  “We did this.”

  “So much happiness,” she whispered. “It’s magic.” Did she dare hope that with the coming of the bluebirds, her jinx had been broken?

  For a long time, they stood in the orchard, hugging each other, watching the bluebirds flit in and out of the peach trees. There were things they did not say. He was a solitary, independent man, and she had to admire that. She wished she could be so self-contained, but she needed people. Always had, always would.

  “They are such a good omen.” Tom tightened his grip around her waist, pulled her closer. “I take this as a sign everything is going to be fine.”

  He didn’t say the word biopsy, but she knew what he meant.

  “The best omen,” she whispered, locking eyes with the man who’d brought her back to life. She wanted him to kiss her, make love to her so badly she couldn’t stand it.

  Feeling air-starved and dizzy, Felicity realized she’d been holding her breath. She exhaled deeply. Her skin felt cool, but, inside her, blood pumped wild and hot.

  In soft sunlight he smiled at her, and she could see that he was feeling it too.

  He held out his hand, and her heart thudded crazily. His lashes lowered to half-mast over bedroom eyes.

  Shakily, she reached out and took that warm, welcoming palm.

  Tom interlaced their fingers, pointed at the bluebird perched in the doorway of one of the nesting boxes. “Just look at what we did. You and me. We can build anything together.”

  Suddenly shy, she briefly dropped her head to his shoulder. “And here I was skeptical that you could really bring the bluebirds home.”

  “Oh ye of little faith,” he said softly, and led her up the steps to the back door. “Together we can do anything.”

  She hesitated on the threshold.

  “What is it?” he whispered, his eyes shining bright with desire.

  “I’m glad you gave Savannah the keys to your Ducati. I know you feel bad about it. I know it was rough on Chance—”

  “And you.” He squeezed her hand gently.

  “But if you hadn’t given her the keys, she might not have had the courage to go through with it, and, if she hadn’t run away, Savannah would be miserable and Chance would be miserable and you wouldn’t have had anything to feel guilty about and you never would have stayed and we never would have had . . .” Felicity swallowed, met his eyes, squeezed his hand right back. “This.”

  “Felicity,” he whispered, and her name on his tongue filled her with longing so thick and hard she couldn’t speak. “I want to kiss you more than I want to breathe. May I kiss you?”

  “Please,” she said. “Oh, please do.”

  He swept her into his arms, their bodies in full contact. He buried his nose in her hair, took a deep breath. Laughed. “You smell so good. Like flowers and sunshine.”

  “So do you.” She giggled and looked deeply into his friendly eyes that offered so much love. She opened her mouth, waited.

  He dipped his head.

  Her heart was hammering, knocking and knocking and knocking.

  His kiss was light, exploring, as if memorizing every part of her—lips, tongue, teeth. As if wanting this to last a lifetime. His chest rose and fell against her breasts with every breath he took.

  Her body melted into his. She felt boneless. Liquid. Like stardust and rainbows.

  Tom swayed with her in his arms, rocking her, his mouth still on a great getting-to-know-you-better adventure. He tasted of peppermint and salt, cool and earthy.

  Salt of the earth, she thought dizzily, and went up on tiptoes, telegraphing that it was okay to take the kiss deeper.

  But instead, he stepped back, bent down, and scooped her into his arms.

  “Oops, whoa!” She giggled. “What are you doing?”

  “Sweeping you off your feet.”

  He carried her to the front porch and only set her down because she kept insisting. They were still high on bluebird magic.

  “Are we all alone?” he asked.

  “No guests,” she said. “But Aunt Molly might be here.”

  “Her car wasn’t in the drive.”

  “She lives three doors down. She usually walks.”

  “Her car was in the drive when I came by earlier.”

  Felicity opened the back door, stuck her head in. “Aunt Molly?”

  No answer.

  “Aunt Molly?” she called again, louder this time.

  Silence.

  “I think the coast is clear.” She turned back to Tom, touched his back, felt his warmth through his cotton shirt. “So where is that kiss you promised me?”

  He dipped his head, and she leaned in to kiss him softly.

  Tom kissed her back, and, when they came up for air, he whispered, “That’s the second best kiss I ever got.”

  “What was the first?”

  “The first time I kissed you.”

  “Really? Second best? I can’t top the first time? At this rate, the hundredth kiss will be one hundredth best.”

  “Nah, just means we’ll have to work harder to make each kiss more special than the last.”

  “Oh, game on, buddy.” She kissed him again, throwing in every ounce of passion she had inside her. She wanted forever, but she wouldn’t ask for it. Couldn’t ask for it until she knew for sure the lump wasn’t cancerous. In the meantime, there was nothing wrong with celebrating the return of the bluebirds by loving each other’s bodies fully and completely.

  Leisurely, as if the world were their oyster and time, that abstract concept, had ceased to exist, he braced her against the door frame, and they kissed on the back stoop.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “Look up.”

  Felicity raised her head. Perched on the roof gutter above them were two bluebirds. He slipped his arm around her waist again, and they stood holding each other and admiring the bluebirds, until finally the birds flitted back to the peach orchard.

  “If there was only one thing in the world that could make you happy,” she whispered, “what would it be?”

  His smile was tender, soft-edged. “Being with you. No, not just being with you, but really being together. A couple. Man and wife. Because, sweetheart, I will never love anyone the way I love you.”

  “Even if I have cancer?”

  “No matter what, Felicity. There’s a reason they say in sickness and in health. I mean it, no matter what, I’m all in.”

  “Oh, Tom,” she said, and kissed him again, the way she’d been aching to kiss him from the minute he’d walked into the inn
. “Why are we standing outside talking, when we could be inside making love?”

  “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter Ten

  Tom and Felicity celebrated the return of the bluebirds in the best way possible.

  In her bed.

  Tom undressed her tenderly, filled with concern for her health. She assured him she was fine and that she wanted this more than she wanted to breathe. She stood naked before him, feeling completely comfortable and at ease, knowing this was the right thing.

  He smiled down at her with such love in his eyes she could scarcely believe how lucky she was. In the tree outside her window, she could hear the sweet warble of a bluebird, and she matched Tom’s smile.

  “I can’t believe how beautiful you are.” He tugged her into his arms. “I love to feel your heart beating against mine.”

  “Oh, Tom.”

  He bestowed on her a hundred kisses, each more passionate than the last. “Making up for lost time,” he gasped, then dove in again for more.

  Tom delivered a merry-go-round of kisses until they were both giddy and dizzy with it. He dropped down on one knee.

  “Are you okay,” she asked, grasping his shoulders, her head spinning, her lips swollen and tingly.

  “Marry me, Felicity.”

  “What are you doing?” A bit of panic set in. “You promised we’d be in the moment.”

  “I am in the moment. This glorious, rare moment when I’m asking you to marry me. I don’t have a ring, and I’ll do it up proper later, but I don’t want to make love to you until I know you’re in this as much as I am.”

  “Ask me again after we find out the biopsy is benign.”

  “No,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about this. I want you to be my wife. Just as you are. I love you and I need you and I want you and there’s no sense in holding back. We’ve already spent two weeks apart, and that’s far too long. Say you’ll marry me, Felicity. Make me the happiest man on earth.”

  “Tom—”

  “I want to wake up to you every morning, go to bed with you every night. I want to stop rambling and settle down with you. You’re my anchor, Felicity, my lifeline.”

  “And if I’m sick?”

  “We’ll deal with it and live every moment as if it’s our last. That’s what we’ll do no matter what.”

  “What if I’m not sick and somewhere along the line you decide you want children?”

  “I already do want children. We’ll adopt.”

  Adopt! Her heart leapt at the thought of having her deepest dreams come true. A man who loved her and children to call her own? It was almost too good to be true. Did she dare hope she could have it all?

  “What if you want biological children?”

  “Stop stalling with the what ifs.” His tone was firm, but his smile was gentle. “Nothing is guaranteed. All we know is that we love each other right here, right now. That’s enough for me. Is it enough for you?”

  Tears misted her eyes. He stood up and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him until neither one of them could catch his or her breath. She was madly in love with this sweet, wonderful man.

  “Say it,” he gasped.

  “Yes, Tom,” she said because she could resist him no longer. Didn’t want to resist. Wanted to fall headlong into the dizzy whirlpool of his love. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He took her hand and led her over to the bed. She undressed him, slowly, filled with delight at everything she discovered. Once he was naked, they tumbled onto the bed together, smiling at the happiness they’d found and giggling with excitement.

  Felicity felt as if she’d been a wilted flower, dehydrated and thirsty, and Tom the life-giving water that roused her. He touched her everywhere, kissing her all over her body, in warm secret places that sent shivers through her, loving her the way she’d dreamed of.

  They weren’t kids anymore. They were mature adults who’d weathered life’s slings and arrows, but that was what made this beautiful second chance so much richer than anything they’d ever experienced before.

  Truly, they were in the moment. No thoughts of a future or past. Absorbed in the timelessness of each other. Wrapped up in the physical, mental, and emotional expression of their newfound love.

  Bluebirds sang outside the window serenaded their joining, and, when it was over, they lay in each other’s arms, spent and spooning close. He curled himself around her, moved her hair aside to kiss the back of her neck.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his hand carefully touching the small bandage over the biopsy site.

  “Wonderful, perfect. No pain at all.”

  “That’s awesome,” he said. “You want to do it again?”

  “You’re up for that?” She giggled. “At forty-two?”

  He pressed his hips against her, and she discovered, that oh, my yes, he was definitely up for another round. “When I’m with you, I feel twenty-two.”

  Tom turned her in his arms, kissed her hard and long, lit a toasty hot fire inside her again, and they were off once more on the magic of their love. This time was slow and tender as they explored the map of each other’s bodies, learning, revering, cherishing the beautiful, abiding present.

  The third time, near midnight, was a blaze of unending passion, the culmination of everything that had gone before. The crescendo to the opus of their love story. Their bodies intertwined, their hearts beating together, souls connected in an irrevocable way.

  Just before she fell into a deep, untroubled slumber, Tom kissed her forehead and said, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Felicity Patterson, and I will love you to the end of my days.”

  * * *

  They woke the next morning to the smell of coffee, bacon, and eggs. They sat up at the same time, looking at each other, wide-eyed and ravenous.

  “Who’s in the house?” Tom asked.

  Felicity threw on a bathrobe, just as a knock sounded on the door. Tom pulled the sheet up to his neck.

  She opened the door, peeked out.

  There was Aunt Molly with a tray of food. Two plates and a small vase with a red rosebud cut from the garden.

  “Breakfast in bed is in order,” Aunt Molly said efficiently.

  “Mmm, why is that?” Felicity stood so that she blocked her aunt’s view of the room.

  “Well, for one thing, you finally have a man in your bed again. Hi, Tom.”

  “Hi, Molly,” Tom called out from behind Felicity.

  Aunt Molly smiled slyly. “I’m happy for you both.”

  “You warned me off Tom, remember?”

  “That’s before I knew he had staying power.”

  “How do you know he has staying power?” Felicity accepted the tray her aunt passed to her.

  “He didn’t tell you he registered to get his master’s degree at TCU?”

  “Thanks for spoiling the surprise,” Tom hollered.

  “Oops, sorry. Remember, you’re living in a small town now. The grapevine is very efficient. Everyone has already heard about the bluebirds, which is why I made blueberry pancakes.”

  “That was so sweet of you.” Felicity stood in the doorway, holding the tray, grateful for the food, but wishing her aunt would scoot.

  “There’s some more good news,” Aunt Molly said.

  “What’s that?”

  “One, Savannah called to reserve the Bluebird Inn for a wedding. She’s getting married after all.”

  “What? She and Chance got back together?”

  “Nope.”

  “Who is she getting married to?”

  “You’ll have to get out of bed if you want that bit of gossip.” Aunt Molly’s eyes twinkled.

  “Not right now,” Tom called.

  Aunt Molly’s grin was huge. “I saved the best news for last.”

  The tray was getting heavy, and Felicity couldn’t wait to dive back into bed with Tom and celebrate the news that Savannah was willing to take another chance on the Blue
bird Inn. “What’s that?”

  “The doctor’s office called. The lump is benign.”

  Oh, happy day! Joy shot straight to Felicity’s heart.

  “Now, go have breakfast with your man,” Aunt Molly said, then turned and went back downstairs.

  As soon as Felicity closed the door with her foot, Tom was out of bed, naked as the day he was born. He took the tray from her, set it on the dresser, and pulled her into his arms. “Did you hear that? No cancer.”

  She bobbed her head, flooded with bliss. “And you’re going back to school!”

  “I decided this county needed another extension agent.”

  “It does!” she said, her heart overflowing.

  “And,” he said, “I’ve decided a cold breakfast isn’t so bad.”

  “What do you have in mind?” she asked, leaning in and kissing him lightly on the lips.

  “Showing you all over again just how much I love you.” He led her back to bed.

  Tears misted the corners of her eyes. Felicity could hardly believe her good fortune. She had found a man who loved her; she had a clean bill of health and a new booking for a wedding.

  And outside her window, bluebirds sang in the trees, a beautiful symbol of all the happiness that lay in store.

  Lori Wilde creates more magic in

  HAPPY IS THE BRIDE

  New York Times Bestselling Authors

  LORI WILDE * JANET DAILEY * CAT JOHNSON *

  KATE PEARCE

  1 Wedding, 4 New York Times Bestselling Authors, 5 Happily Ever Afters!

  Stirring up all the romance and excitement a bride could hope for—plus a healthy dose of unforeseen shenanigans—four of today’s most dazzling bestselling authors deliver the wedding of the year, where there’s something—and someone—for everyone . . .

  Opposites attract when a wealthy cattleman and a penniless artist decide to get hitched at a Texas dude ranch in tornado country—and the whirlwind festivities are as filled with surprises as their love . . . especially when the guest list includes: one pretty party crasher on a mission, a sheriff known as the One-Night Stand King, and a workaholic event planner who definitely did not plan to fall for a laid-back cowboy. Toss in a shocking behind-the-scenes bet, a fateful power outage, and a man of honor and a best woman determined to see the worst in each other (between hot kisses), plus thrilling lessons in love at first—and second—sight, and the celebrations are going to go all night long!