Ain't She Sweet? Part 42

"You still look beautiful," Leeann conceded. "More than beautiful. But Colin's going to have a fit."

"Have either of you seen him?"

"He's probably with Ryan," Jewel said uneasily.

"Or on his way to South America." Sugar Beth kissed Gordon good-bye and stomped out to Jewel's car, her beaded stiletto sandals making lethal clicks on the pavement.

The nostalgic smells of old hymnals, Pine-Sol, and long-forgotten potlucks enveloped her as she entered the back door of the redbrick Presbyterian church. Winnie, stylish in gold silk, waited just inside. Her eyes narrowed with displeasure as she took in Sugar Beth's dress, but she wisely held her tongue.

"Tell me you've seen Colin," Sugar Beth said as Winnie steered her toward a small anteroom just off the narthex.

"Ryan's in charge of Colin."

"So you haven't seen him."

"I haven't had time to look. There was a misunderstanding about the music, and the altar flowers weren't right, then Gigi glittered her eyelids. Did you teach her to do that? Never mind." Winnie's face set in a chipper smile. "We didn't do anything about something old and something borrowed. You have a new dress and blue eyes, but we need the rest."

"When it's your fourth marriage, you tend to lose faith in superst.i.tions."

"This is your last marriage, and tradition is important." She reached into her small beaded bag, drew out Diddie's pearls, and clasped them around Sugar Beth's neck. "Don't get attached. I'm taking them back as soon as the reception's over."

Sugar Beth touched them with her fingers, and her eyes filled up with tears. "Oh, Winnie..." She turned and hugged her sister. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Winnie replied, and promptly burst into tears herself.

The organist began to play the prelude, and they hopped up and down and waved their hands in front of their faces to stop themselves before they ruined their eye makeup. Winnie blew her nose. "Colin's definitely here. Mrs. Patterson never starts to play until everybody in the wedding party has shown up."

"She's hated me ever since my ninth-grade recital when I got to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy instead of her precious Kimmie."

"Everybody in Parrish isn't involved in a conspiracy against you."

"We'll see."

The prelude came to an end. Winnie thrust a cascading bouquet of white Casablanca lilies into Sugar Beth's hands and picked up a smaller bouquet for herself, then drew her out into the narthex. Sugar Beth could only see the last two rows of pews, but even they were filled. "What possessed you to invite so many people?"

"You and Colin are going to be a big part of this community," Winnie retorted. "Everybody deserves to see you married."

"If he's here."

"Of course he's here."

The organ launched into the processional, and Sugar Beth's teeth began to chatter. "I'm not walking down that aisle until you peek around the corner and make sure he's there."

"He has to be. If he weren't, Ryan would-"

"I don't want to hear another word about Ryan!" she hissed. "Your husband has reason to hate me, too. He's probably in on the whole thing."

"True." Winnie lifted her bouquet. "And then there's me." With those ominous words, she stepped around the corner and disappeared down the aisle.

The music swelled. Sugar Beth straightened her shoulders and fought her fear. As she made her way around the corner, the congregation rose, temporarily blocking her view of the altar. She clutched the bouquet more tightly, her palms sweaty. Four husbands! What kind of fool got married for the fourth time?

A sea of faces turned toward her, three hundred of them, but not the one she most needed to see. Until she took her place at the end of the aisle...There he was, with Ryan at his side, both men dressed in black tuxedos. Colin wore his as comfortably as other men wore jeans. The tucked white shirt gleamed against his tan face, which was thinner and more angular than when she'd last seen him. Apparently she wasn't the only one who'd had trouble eating. The knowledge gave her just enough indignant satisfaction to propel her down the aisle.

Colin's heart swelled as he watched Sugar Beth approach him. She was dressed entirely in black. He chuckled, and for the first time in nearly two months, he began to relax.

Her gown was beautiful despite its color. Long, slim, and strapless, it had diagonal panels of tiny black beads that grew wider as they reached the hem. She floated toward him, exquisite in form, countenance, and movement, her blond hair and smooth white shoulders rising from the gown like foam from a stormy sea. The brittleness she'd worn like a second skin when she'd first come to Parrish had broken away. She was softer, more exquisite, more precious to him than he'd ever imagined, but the perilous flash of silver in those pale blue eyes reminded him of what a dangerous game he'd been playing. And it wasn't over yet.

She stopped at his side and pa.s.sed over the bouquet to Winnie. He took her hands. They were cold as ice, but his weren't much warmer.

The ceremony began. He'd have preferred writing his own vows, ones that spoke more personally to the depth of his feelings for this magnificent woman, but then she would have had to write hers, too, and he hadn't trusted her not to curse. Browbeating her was the only way he'd known to slay the dragon that had held this princess as a prisoner for far too long. They belonged together, and he'd been determined to put her out of her misery as quickly as possible.

The minister's voice broke into his thoughts. Pastor Daniels was a traditionalist, and it hadn't occurred to him that he should modify the ceremony.

"Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?"

There was a long pause. The congregation began to stir uneasily. Colin frowned. Ryan smiled and stepped forward. "I do."

The pastor came to his senses after that and quickly deleted the speak now or forever hold your peace part, which would surely have sent people hopping to their feet all over the place.

The vows followed. Sugar Beth spoke hers flatly, almost angrily. He understood. She'd lost faith in vows, and this particular ceremony held a lot of unhappy memories for her. Still, it had to be done.

The rest of the ceremony pa.s.sed in a blur, something to be endured rather than cherished. She had a ring for him, which was a surprise, a simple white gold wedding band. He slipped a perfect two-and-a-half-carat diamond on her finger. She wasn't a woman for subtlety.

More vows and the p.r.o.nouncement. "You may kiss the bride."

He gazed down at her and, as he drew close, whispered against her lips, "Don't bite."

She didn't. But she didn't really kiss him back either.

Ryan and Winnie whisked them to Frenchman's Bride for the reception. The white tent had billows of net at the entrance and a swagged ceiling. Crisp linens draped with sheer gold overskirts covered the tables, each of which displayed a trailing centerpiece of lilies, hyacinths, and ivy. Long serving tables held platters of lobster tails, crab claws, and shrimp, along with an a.s.sortment of hot and cold dishes. He couldn't imagine how Winnie and the Seawillows had managed to do all this so quickly or how he would ever thank them properly. There was no band, no dancing. Winnie knew he and Sugar Beth needed to get through this reception as quickly as possible so they could be alone. He watched Sugar Beth bypa.s.s a tower of chocolate-dipped cream puffs for the relish tray. He frowned.

The guests seemed to have entered into a conspiracy to protect him because no one suggested he and Sugar Beth stand still for wedding photographs, and not a single person tapped a knife on a water goblet to encourage them to kiss. When it came time for the wedding cake to be cut, Winnie jumped up with a panic-stricken expression and said she and Ryan would do the honors. Only Cubby Bowmar seemed disappointed that he wouldn't get to see Colin's face decorated with vanilla fondant.

Sugar Beth spent most of the reception with either the Seawillows or Gigi and her teenage friends. Finally, Winnie drew her away to throw her bouquet, and Sugar Beth aimed right for Jewel, which he thought was a nice touch. No one mentioned a garter ceremony.

As it came time to leave, Winnie retrieved the pearls Sugar Beth had been wearing. "You can't take them back!" his outraged wife exclaimed. "That's what I want for my wedding present."

"Forget it. I have more important plans for these." Winnie kissed her cheek and slipped the pearls into her bag. "Your present will be waiting when you get back from your honeymoon."

"What honeymoon?"

Winnie pushed her toward Colin.

Eventually, he was able to get her to his car, which had been decorated with white streamers and a sign on the pa.s.senger door that read 4th Timz the Charm. Rice flew. Merylinn stuffed Sugar Beth into the front seat. Heidi threw her overnight case in the back. Someone triggered an air horn. And then they were off.

The interior of the car grew tomblike. Sugar Beth stared straight ahead. Colin tried to think of something to say, but he hadn't slept well in weeks. Most nights he'd stayed at his computer till dawn, caught a few hours of rest, then gotten up and begun to write again. Except for a weekly trip to a convenience store, he'd seen no one. He'd forgotten to shave, forgotten to eat. Occasionally he'd subjected himself to brutal day-long hikes in the desert, hoping the exertion would wear him out enough so he could sleep for more than two hours at a stretch, but it seldom worked. He'd had no taste for food, no taste for much of anything except writing and torturing himself with thoughts of Sugar Beth.

They pa.s.sed the Quik Stop, and she finally broke the silence. "What honeymoon?"

"I considered the Virgin Islands, but for now I think it's better if we just head to the lake. Amy and Clint have given us their cottage for the night. Why were you eating cauliflower?"

Her gown gave an angry rustle. "Tell me where you've been for two months."

"A little adobe house I rented outside Taos. Three rooms near an aspen grove. Simple but serviceable."

"You look tired. And you've lost weight."

He heard concern in her voice-a c.h.i.n.k in the armor of her resentment-and his fatigue instantly vanished. "I'm exhausted. Tired to the bone." He gave a weary sigh and studied her reaction through the corner of his eye. "It's been an extraordinarily difficult two months. I haven't been well at all."

"Probably suffering from overacting disease."

He smiled and turned his head to drink in that perfect face. "Do you hate it so very much? Being married to me?"

Her eyes flashed. "We didn't even sign a prenup! And I'm a wealthy woman."

"Are you worried, then?"

"Of course I'm worried! I just got married for the fourth time! But I've never had a lick of common sense, so why should I be surprised."

"You have a great deal of common sense, not to mention an exquisite body...which I intend to enjoy to the fullest as soon as possible."

"Good, because s.e.x is the only reason I'm going along with this."

"I understand."

They remained silent for the rest of the trip to the lake. She seemed resigned, if not overjoyed, and the atmosphere no longer felt quite so oppressive, but he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. He carried her case inside the cottage-his was already there-and wasted no time drawing her toward the bedroom. She came to a dead stop just inside the door. "Oh, my."

Mountains of fresh flowers and ma.s.ses of white pillar candles occupied every corner of the gray and white bedroom. Music played softly in the background, and in a particularly nice touch, the covers on the bed had been turned down to display white rose petals scattered across the pale gray sheets. Even the draperies over the wall of windows that faced the lake had been drawn. Amy's mother had followed his directions to the letter.

"Dreadfully excessive," he sniffed. "These Southerners."

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

"Well, if you think so..." The candlelight caught the black beads of her gown, and her skin looked iridescent, as if it had been dusted with crushed opals. "I have a wedding present for you," he said.

"I have a present for you, too."

"If it ticks, I'm calling the police."

She smiled. His muscles relaxed enough for him to cross the room and retrieve a thick sheaf of papers tied with a red bow from his overnight case. As he handed it to her, he wished he'd had more to drink at the reception. "I...didn't finish until yesterday, so there wasn't time for a fancy gift wrap."

Sugar Beth gazed at him and realized he was nervous. The knowledge gratified her more than anything else that had happened that day, and the final layers of her resentment began to peel away at the corners. She sank into the room's only chair and gazed down at what he'd handed her. "You finished your book."

"Very late last night."

He'd dedicated it to her. That must be his surprise. She smiled to herself and pulled at the lopsided red bow he'd wrapped around the ma.n.u.script. He shifted his weight, cleared his throat. His agitation warmed her even more. And then she gazed down at the t.i.tle page. Her breath caught in a tiny gasp.

A Love Story for Valentine by COLIN BYRNE.

"Oh, my..." A thousand questions sprang to her mind. Her voice, when she finally rediscovered it, sounded thin and faint. "But...what happened to your other book?"

"This needed to be written first."

She ran her fingers over the t.i.tle page, and the hard knot of fear she'd been carrying inside her for longer than she could remember dissolved. In its place she felt a deep-rooted sense of peace. A man who would do this for the woman he loved was a man for the ages. Her smile wobbled at the corners. "When male authors write love stories, the heroine tends to end up dead."

"Not this time, I a.s.sure you." His voice was no steadier than hers. "I'll never be able to hold up my head in literary circles again."

"Oh, Colin..." She drew the ma.n.u.script to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and her eyes filled with tears. The remnants of her fear fell away as she gazed into the eyes of her fourth and last husband. "I do love you, my darling."

"That's what I've been counting on."

He set aside the ma.n.u.script and pulled her to her feet where he began taking the pins from her hair one by one. As it tumbled down, he kissed her neck, her shoulders, whispering sonnets of love that grew earthier and more explicit as their clothes fell away.

"You're exquisite," he whispered as he laid her in the rose petals. She ran her hands over his body, reacquainting herself with its hard slopes and muscled ridges. He found other petals, soft and moist, plump with need, fragrant with desire, and she grew wild with need. Wilder still when he finally entered her and she saw the emotion burning in his eyes.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love you so, my darling."

She whispered her own love words in return, and the sweet storm swept them up.

The next morning Sugar Beth propped herself on her elbow and gazed at her sleeping husband. He'd worked hard last night, making love with her until they were both exhausted. Resisting the urge to wake him, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of panties along with his tuxedo shirt. In the kitchen she found Gordon, a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, and a basket of warm m.u.f.fins. No woman had better friends than she did, and as soon as she got the chance, she intended to throw them a bridal shower in reverse.

She drank a gla.s.s of juice and gave Gordon some love, but left him behind as she made her way through the rear sliders and down to the lake. The early-morning sun sparkled on the extravagant diamond her husband had given her. He didn't want her to forget she was married, as if she could. She smiled, and a sense of peace flowed through her in a deep, quiet stream. Forever was a long time for love to last, but when it came to Colin Byrne, forever felt exactly right.

"Bored with me already?"

She turned to watch her husband coming toward her, his bare feet leaving tracks in the dew-soaked gra.s.s, Gordon trotting at his side. Colin wore jeans and a white T-shirt, all gorgeous and sloppy-unshaven, rumpled, munching on a m.u.f.fin, and as he kissed her, she tasted banana-nut crumbs, toothpaste, and s.e.x.

"Not bored at all." She smiled and brushed his cheek. "I've been thinking about my wedding present."

"I put my heart on every page," he said so sweetly she would have teared up all over again if she hadn't needed to do something else first.

"Not that present," she managed. "My present to you. I hope you like it because I can't take it back."

"It's impossible to imagine returning anything you've given to me."

"Hold on to that thought."

And then she told him.

He looked stunned.

She wasn't surprised. She'd needed time to adjust, too.

Eventually, he recovered enough to ask a few questions. Then he started kissing her again, but just when their breathing got heavy, he broke away. "I'm sorry, my darling. I know it's our honeymoon, but..." He removed his hand from her bottom with the greatest reluctance. "Would it be possible for you to entertain yourself for an hour? Two hours at the most?"

"You're deserting me now?"

"Ordinarily I wouldn't think of it, you understand, but in light of your amazing news..." He gazed down at her, his heart shining in his eyes. "I'm feeling a pressing need to write an epilogue."