What the Heart Wants

by Kelli McCracken

  Sebastian…

  The minute Kyle stepped out of his car; he walked straight over to Dylan and Layne. Turquoise eyes wide. Irritated.

  “Did you see that crazy son-of-a-bitch?” Kyle asked while pointing toward Sebastian’s car. “He’s trying to kill me the night before my wedding.”

  “There ain’t anyone trying to kill you, man,” Sebastian said, as he waited for Scott and Jerry to exit Kyle’s car.

  Great. The gang’s all here.

  Both of Dylan’s guitarists looked as thrilled as he felt. At least Scott flashed him a smile. Jerry had his sunglasses on. They were too dark to see which direction his eyes were looking. The way he was smiling, Dylan was confident he was looking at Kyle, waiting for a retort to Sebastian’s comment.

  Dylan gazed at the slender front man for Chaos. Sebastian had lived in sarcastic mode since they had met a few years ago. The one tour Dylan would never forget. Neither would any of the Alabama State Troopers.

  Gunfire backstage had a way of getting your body slammed to the ground by bodyguards, as well as on-duty police officers.

  Thank God, Emma had come along when she did. If someone from Sebastian’s long list of one-night stands hadn’t hunted him down and killed him, a jealous husband would have.

  Emma sure did straighten Sebastian out. Unfortunately, he passed his playboy crown to Layne.

  Dylan did an internal eye roll. Layne wouldn’t be giving up his chauvinistic ways anytime soon. Not with the way he had behaved on their recent tour. How many women did he have in his room that night in Vegas? Four? Five?

  No wonder so many guys looked at Layne like he was a Greek god. He was living out their fantasies.

  Funny how men like Layne had no problem finding women. But guys like Dylan…the honorable men, not so much. Then again, the women Layne hopped in and out of bed with weren’t the type Dylan would want his mother to meet.

  Dylan refocused on Sebastian and Kyle. Sebastian’s eyes filled with mischief as a huge grin spread across his lips.

  “I can’t help it if you’re a slow driver. Hell, my grandmother can drive faster than you,” he howled with laughter.

  Kyle turned back to look at him, shaking his head in the process. “You’re a crazy bastard, do you know that?”

  Sebastian dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

  This rehearsal was going to be a three-ring circus if this banter kept up. Chelsea would just love that.

  After punching Sebastian in the arm, Kyle’s eyes made it back to Layne and then went to Dylan. He brushed a strand of his auburn hair out of his eyes. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “It’s okay. It's not like we have hot dates waiting for us after the rehearsal,” Layne chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the SUV. “Or maybe we do. I'm ready to meet your fiancée’s friends.”

  “Thanks for doing this for Chelsea and me.” Kyle smiled. “I’m glad I’ll have all my best buds standing there with me when I marry the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “Oh, come on!” Sebastian said in a disgusted tone. His eyes beamed wickedly “You’re going to make everyone throw up with all the mushy crap you’re shoving down our throats.”

  Kyle slumped his shoulders, though his smile said he was anything but upset. “Sebastian talks a lot of shit, but if you want the truth, talk to Emma.” Everyone laughed this time. “Come on; let’s get this show on the road before Chelsea changes her mind.”

  “If she was smart, she would,” Sebastian laughed again, filing into the front door of the church with the others.

  Chelsea stood beside the door to the sanctuary. When she noticed their arrival, her eyes lit up.

  “Hey, you,” she said, wrapping her arms around Kyle’s neck as their lips met.

  Sebastian cleared his throat. “You better save some of that for tomorrow.”

  Kyle pulled away. “There’s plenty where that came from.”

  She nodded her head before casting her gaze at the rest of them. “Hey, guys. Glad to see he made it to the church. Tomorrow, can you make sure it’s on time?”

  “This man will be late for his own funeral so you realize you are asking a lot of us, right?” Sebastian asked.

  Kyle stomped Sebastian’s boot. “You’re so funny. You missed your calling. Instead of singing, you should have gone into comedy.”

  Sebastian winced as he bounced on his other foot. But he still managed to laugh.

  Chelsea’s locks brushed against her shoulder as she laughed at the bantering friends. “Okay, you two. Spar later. Right now, focus on this rehearsal. I need to introduce everyone to my friends who flew in from Ohio.”

  And so the fun begins.

  Dylan held his breath as Chelsea pointed toward him, Scott and Layne. “You three are still up for being their dates, right?”

  No…

  “Of course.” Layne grinned and elbowed Dylan. “And you’re sure no jealous boyfriends or husbands will show up?”

  “I already told you, they aren’t married or in relationships. They’re single, all three of them. And they’re triplets, too. Although they don’t look identical. Well, I should take that back. Heaven and Faith look quite a bit alike. Hope has similar features.”

  “Triplets, huh?” Scott chuckled as Layne pushed his shoulder.

  “Forget it, dude. I know what you’re thinking. If anyone gets all three of them, it’s me.”

  “No way, Layne,” Chelsea smacked him on the back of the head. “You’re not treating them like the groupies you meet on the road. These are my friends. Besides, I’ve already paired you up for the wedding.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Layne grinned, rubbing his head where Chelsea had hit him. “Isn’t one of these girls your best friend or something?”

  “Yes, Heaven is my best friend.”

  Layne waggled his eyebrow at her. “Did you pair us up? I know how much you love me, Chelsea. You’d only want the best for your best friend.”

  “Sorry, Layne, but you’re paired with Faith. Scott is paired with Hope, and Dylan is paired with Heaven.”

  Great.

  Dylan knew it was time to start his performance, as Layne suggested. Being Chelsea’s best friend’s date meant certain expectations had to be met. Chelsea’s expectations.

  Christ…

  “Heaven? Hmm.” Layne shifted his gaze in Dylan’s direction. “Think her name matches her appearance?”

  “Who wants to know?” Chelsea questioned. “You…or Dylan?”

  Ah, hell…

  She let a little chuckle escape her lips. “You know what, don’t answer that. Find out for yourself.”

  As they walked past the open doors of the sanctuary, Dylan’s eyes crossed the room until they fell on Emma. She was talking with a young woman he didn’t recognize. She was pretty. Very pretty. But nothing compared to…

  He had to stop doing that.

  Must he compare every woman to her?

  As if the woman could feel his eyes staring a hole through her, she looked away from Emma long enough to glance their way.

  She wasn’t his angel, but there was something about her smile…

  “That’s Hope, next to Emma,” Chelsea explained, but she wasn’t talking to Dylan. Scott’s smile said as much.

  Yeah, she was a beauty, but that’s not why Scott’s smile resembled a senior on graduation day. Hope was waving at them, but her eyes focused on Scott.

  Perfect.

  Chelsea had chosen correctly.

  Motion at the pulpit drew Dylan’s eyes past the two girls.

  Whoa…

  Dark curly hair…

  He was doing it, again.

  Comparing.

  “The one standing with the pastor is Faith. She’s been keeping him entertained while we waited for you guys to show up. I’ll introduce you when she’s finished,” Chelsea promised while looking at Layne.

  “That’s cool with me. Where is your best friend?” he asked, giving Dylan a sideway
s glance.

  Dylan’s eyes were scanning the room for any unfamiliar faces, but didn’t notice anyone.

  “That’s a good question,” Chelsea answered. “Hey, girls, where is Heaven?”

  “I’m right here,” a voice called from the door near the front of the church.

  Dylan’s heart pumped twice as fast the moment he heard her voice. The hair on the back of his neck stood.

  No way…

  It couldn’t be…but it was so familiar.

  When his eyes found the face that went with the voice, air combusted through his lungs.

  “Dude, what’s up with the look?” Layne’s voice was so low, Dylan barely heard him. “You okay?”

  “It’s her,” Dylan whispered, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. “It’s the girl from my dreams.”

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 7

  Layne didn’t notice Heaven when she spoke. How could he when his babe alarm was screaming in an octave only dogs could hear? And he was a dog. At least, that’s what some of his ex-girlfriends called him.

  Was it his fault that his sex drive was higher than Mt. Everest? Wasn’t every guy’s?

  Okay, maybe not. That didn’t really matter at the moment. The gorgeous brunette with the rockin’ bod really needed to turn around and look at him.

  What could a pastor be saying that held her interest? Hadn’t she seen him walk in?

  Apparently not. She wouldn’t be standing on the pulpit if she had.

  If the Fates were on his side, then she’d be in his bed before the weekend was over. What was he saying? He didn’t need the Fates. Not when he could charm the pants off a Ralph Lauren model…or two.

  At the same time.

  God, life was good.

  He hoped the Fates wouldn’t be cruel. With a body like that, surely to God the face would match.

  Screw it.

  He could close his eyes if not.

  Wait. Where was he?

  Oh, yeah. The dark haired diva with a booty like J-Lo.

  That wasn’t right either. As much as he wanted to focus on hitting the sheets with…what was her name? Faith. Yeah, it was Faith. What was in a name when her body was built like a brick shit…

  Hold up!

  What was up with Dylan’s gaping mouth? And did he just say it’s her? The girl from his dream? What the…

  Layne hadn’t wasted any time looking in Heaven’s direction. When his eyes finally made it to her, his heart stuttered.

  Her smile was angelic. Heavenly. God, did her name fit her. She and Faith shared the same hair color, a beautiful warm brown with toffee-colored highlights, but Heaven’s was a bit longer. Layne’s eyes continued down her body as his mind took mental notes.

  Perfectly shaped breasts stared back at him. Not too big, not too small. More than a handful was too much, right?

  The silk shirt she wore hugged every curve, its neckline revealing just the right amount of her cleavage. Her waistline was slim, leading down to curvaceous hips and long legs.

  Okay. So Faith’s body was a little more toned, but Heaven’s was nothing to laugh at. If this was the girl from Dylan’s dreams…

  Wow!

  Layne understood now. This was why Dylan couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was beautiful.

  Too bad she wasn’t looking in Layne’s direction. He followed her gaze, stopping short on his best friend’s face.

  Could Dylan be any more obvious about his interest? If Dylan didn’t close his mouth soon, drool would pool on his chin. Layne hoped his best friend wouldn’t make a fool of himself. Not if this was the chick Dylan had been dreaming about.

  More like obsessing.

  So dreams did come true. Layne’s gut dropped. Was he an idiot or what? Hadn’t he just tried convincing Dylan to stop thinking about this girl less than ten minutes ago? Even told the guy that the girl wasn’t real.

  Oh, contraire.

  Five foot five inches of divine flesh proved otherwise.

  Layne turned his back to Heaven. He had to stop thinking about her like that. This was his best friend’s dream girl. He just didn’t cross those lines. Besides, weren’t Heaven and Faith supposed to look identical, or pretty close?

  He tossed a glance over his shoulder, looking up at the pulpit once more. If only Faith would look his way…

  Screw it.

  He turned to face Dylan, again. Shocking. Dylan’s expression hadn’t changed.

  “Dude, snap out of it,” Layne whispered as low as he could. “You’re making an ass out of yourself. If she knows you’re interested, she won’t be. Three-second rule, remember?”

  Dylan didn’t look away. Or close his mouth. But Layne was relieved that Dylan found his voice. “She’s real, Layne. My dream girl is real.”

  * * *

  Dylan’s chest ached from the pounding his heart was giving him. He drank in every inch of Heaven’s body. Not one part of her was different from his dream. Soft skin. Curves that needed a warning sign. Bright, golden eyes…

  He was rude for staring at her like a prized trophy. But, damn…how could he stop staring at something that sent his body into overdrive?

  Was she staring back?

  Yes.

  Well, she had been. Heaven’s eyes shifted over to Chelsea, who was rambling on about something Dylan couldn’t discern. Had he made her feel uncomfortable? Maybe he should stick to the three-second rule.

  Or close his mouth.

  The three-second rule sounded more manageable. Okay, so it wasn’t a real rule. Unless you were a guy. And the rule was simple to follow.

  No staring at a woman you’re interested in for more than three seconds. Anything longer would spell desperation in her eyes.

  Or psychosis.

  Dylan didn’t want to appear like a psycho. Or desperate. Granted, he’d waited months to find her. And if it weren’t for the fear of her disappearing like she did in the dreams, maybe he would be able to concentrate on something else.

  But he wasn’t psychotic.

  He had many unanswered questions. Like how he knew every detail of her face, of her body, when he’d never met her. Weren’t dreams repressed memories and images of everyday life?

  And what about the bomb his mom dropped on him at the beach? He’d barely had time to adjust to the fact that he was having similar dreams as a child. Was Heaven the little girl from those dreams, too? If she was Chelsea’s best friend, then they must be the same age.

  Dylan refused to believe that any of this was a coincidence. At this point, anything was possible. For Christ’s sake, he had dreamed about a total stranger. Chelsea had never mentioned Heaven before. Not that he would remember. She sure as hell hadn’t shown him any pictures. He definitely would have remembered Heaven’s face.

  Or the laugh that was passing through those lush lips.

  He wondered if it was minty lip-gloss making her lips shine.

  If only he could get a little closer.

  He shifted his weight, drawing Heaven’s attention for a brief second.

  God, her eyes would be his undoing. He could lose himself in them. In her.

  His skin prickled as he remembered the tarot reading his mom had given him earlier. What had the Two of Cups meant? A perfect union. A bond so powerful that two people could get lost in each other.

  Ah, hell.

  The cards were right. They predicted this event unfolding and now…

  He’d never believed in all of his mom’s New Age, fortune-telling mojo. Not until this moment. How could layers of compressed paper foresee the future?

  How did Chelsea know to pair him with her best friend?

  Meeting Heaven couldn’t be by chance. Something bigger was at work.

  Fate?

  God?

  As much as he wanted to keep staring at her, his gut churned a warning. Look away. He was making Heaven uncomfortable. Dylan wasn’t sure how he knew that. Could he smell another person’s fear? Or feel what they were feeling?

  His p
ulse thumped harder, drowning out the chitchat amongst the group.

  Dropping his gaze to the floor, he focused on the tiny specs of black fibers woven within the sea of red. How boring it was to study carpet when he wanted to study her. Wanted to touch her body. See if her skin felt as silky as it had in the dreams.

  He inhaled until he thought his lungs would burst. The sweet aroma tingling his senses was identical to the one he smelled each time he woke from dreaming of her.

  Sandalwood.

  Dylan fought with his subconscious to keep his eyes on the ground. The longer he forced his eyes from gazing up, the more his chest squeezed. Try as he might, his heart was winning the battle with his mind.

  “And this is Layne Perry.”

  Chelsea’s voice rang through Dylan’s mind.

  His eyes shot back to Heaven as she stood in front of Layne, lips spread warmly at his best friend. When they shook hands, a strange twinge of fire filled him like tiny pricks of a needle, his skin the unfortunate pincushion. The thought of Layne touching her drove him crazy.

  Where was this coming from? Dylan couldn’t think of one time he’d been jealous of any guy, let alone his best friend. Until now. And he had no right to be. Heaven didn’t belong to him.

  Not yet.

  He hoped to change that. Still, it didn’t explain the urge to rip Layne’s head off.

  What gave? Primal instinct? The need to wedge his body between Layne and Heaven rushed to the surface. He dug his fingernails into his palms to fight from acting on his impulse.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Dylan?” Chelsea’s voice plucked at his nerves the same way he would pluck a guitar.

  He looked up, taking in the faces staring at him like a nude model in an art class.

  His cheeks burned.

  “I’m sorry. What did you say?” he asked as his eyes searched Chelsea’s face. He didn’t know what was worse. Chelsea’s raised brow and taut lips, or the smirk teasing the corner of Layne’s mouth.

  Great. Layne’s famous I-told-you-so look.