The Police Chief's Bride
Page 7
“Oh, wow,” she said, a smile painting over her pain. “This is a week’s worth of food, Wyatt.”
“Hey,” he said, picking up his fork. “We all have secrets, don’t we?”
Chapter Ten
Deirdre smiled to herself as she lit a pretty, pale pink candle and gently lowered it into the water. “There.” That was the last one, and as she looked down the table, a sense of peace and joy filled her.
The vines were gorgeous, and false ones wouldn’t have been nearly as stunning. Relief and gladness spread through her that Jungle Plants had been able to get the order in on time. Katelin was going to be radiant and beautiful too, and she deserved a dance, dinner, and reception to match.
Aiden moved around the already finished parts of the ballroom, snapping pictures of all the details. He was an exceptionally good photographer, and Deirdre appreciated that he could make all the things she’d brought together look so brilliant.
“The wind is picking up.” Meg’s voice came through Deirdre’s earpiece, and she lifted her head to the wall of glass that took up the back of the ballroom. The beach and bay spread before her there, and sure enough, something tumbled by, fueled by the wind. “She may want to go with the short veil.”
Deirdre picked up her phone and spoke into it. “Let’s watch it. We still have an hour before she needs to decide that.”
Katelin and Hiro had arrived a couple of hours ago and were sequestered upstairs in the bride’s and groom’s rooms, their friends and family with them as they all got primped and proper for the nuptials. Deirdre looked down at her list and turned her attention to the cake table. The vines and flowers sat there, but no one had touched them yet.
First, she went around and blew out all the candles. The wicks would light better once they’d already burned, but she didn’t need them burning for an hour before the event even started. With smoke tendrils lifting into the air, Deirdre walked over to the counter-height table for the cake. Before she could move a single vine, the main entrance opened and someone said, “Cake incoming.”
Deirdre swept the live greenery to the back of the table as she stepped around it, pleased as a tall woman came inside, carrying a towering, pristine wedding cake on a cake board. The man held the door, and another woman darted through after the first to help with the board.
“Right here,” she called. They came toward her slowly, one step at a time, communicating the whole way.
“All right, Suze,” the tall woman—Micah McBride—said. “Get the spatula.”
Suze, clearly the other woman, released the board as Micah rested it on the edge of the table. But the man was already there, extending a long pizza oven spatula toward Suze. The two women wore chef’s jackets smeared with purple and silver frosting, and Deirdre wondered what time they’d gotten up that morning.
She’d barely been able to sleep, what with this huge wedding today and a beautiful, romantic date with Wyatt last night. He’d been charming and flirtatious at precisely the right moments. Caring and tender after she’d explained the full situation behind Emma’s claims. Not that she’d been able to give every single detail. If she had, they’d still be in that booth at The Indian House.
Deirdre had let her emotions get away from her, but Wyatt hadn’t seemed like she’d done anything wrong at all. Dalton was forever telling Deirdre not to get so “worked up” about things, and she hadn’t spent a lot of her adult years crying over things. Her therapist had told her she had a right to be upset over the lies Emma had told, and that was the first time Deirdre hadn’t been ashamed of how she felt.
Last night was another time where she’d felt completely comfortable letting how she truly felt come to the surface. Wyatt hadn’t judged her in the slightest, and he’d moved right on to something else without any awkwardness. Deirdre sure did like that about him. She’d worried about a kiss on the way back to her house, but Wyatt had been nothing but a gentleman as he walked her to her door and hugged her good-night.
Truth be told, Deirdre wouldn’t have objected to kissing him. She just wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He’d spoken of his wife several times, and Deirdre liked that he didn’t keep Christine in a closet, as if she’d never existed.
“Easy,” Micah said as Suze slipped the large pizza spatula under the cake. “There. It’s loose.” She pulled the board back slightly, and Suze dragged the cake forward. It stopped just short of the middle of the table, but Deirdre was impressed by where they’d managed to get it.
“Micah,” she said. “This is simply stunning.” The cake spiraled from a wide base up to a tiny layer twelve stories up. The delicate white fondant had been decorated with silver accents and light purple and dark blue flowers. Everything played together remarkably well, and Deirdre remembered the day when Katelin had brought in her rough sketch to meet with Micah.
She’d taken the concept to fruition, and Katelin was going to freak out when she saw it.
“Thanks,” Micah said. “You let me know when you have another bride like Katelin. She’s been so amazing to work with.”
“Isn’t she great?” Deirdre would’ve said that whether Katelin was the biggest Bridezilla or not. Suze got to work fixing the bottom of the cake, and Deirdre started laying the flowers and vines around the cake in the just-right spots.
“Get pictures of this one, Bob,” she said. “Have you met my husband?” She beamed at the man and then looked at Deirdre.
“I haven’t.” Deirdre smiled and shook his hand while Micah introduced her. “Nice to meet you.”
“And you.” He clicked pictures on his cellphone and stuck it in his back pocket. Suze finally finished up with the frosting and accents she wanted, and then stepped back.
“I’m satisfied.”
“Thank goodness,” Micah said dryly, and Deirdre giggled at the pair of them. They owned one of the best wedding cakeries in Getaway Bay, and Deirdre had to book six months out to get them. The Cake Walk was a fancy shop too, though they didn’t sell from a storefront.
“Thanks, ladies,” Deirdre said. “You got the payment yesterday?”
“Yes,” Suze said. “It arrived. Thanks so much.”
“Thank you,” Deirdre said. “You make me look good.” She hugged both of the women, and they all left.
Deirdre consulted her list again, her feet beginning to ache. She ignored the pain, because she still had miles to go before she could relax in a bubble bath, a bowl of lemon drops on the edge of the tub and soft music playing from the Bluetooth speaker on her bathroom counter.
She finished the dinner and dancing area and went to check on her bride. From the second floor, she saw guests starting to arrive, and some of the women were holding their skirts against their legs because of the wind.
After knocking lightly on the bride’s door, she said, “Katelin, it’s Deirdre.” The door opened, and the bride turned toward her. “Oh.” Deirdre pressed one hand to her heartbeat, tears pricking her eyes.
Katelin was simply stunning with her hair all curled and pinned up. Her makeup done just right. Her face glowing with love and happiness. All Deirdre could think about was her own daughter and how she might not get to ever experience this with her.
She’s only fifteen, she told herself. There’s still time.
But Deirdre felt like the gulf between her and Emma was as wide as the Pacific Ocean. She could row and row and row and still never get back to her daughter.
She pulled herself together as she hugged Katelin. “The wind is a bit breezy. You might want the shorter veil.”
Katelin stepped over to the window and looked outside. “Yep. All right, girls. Short veil.”
“Thank all the starfish in the ocean,” Katelin’s sister said, and a chorus of giggles broke out, Deirdre’s included.
Deirdre didn’t drag herself out of bed until almost ten o’clock the next morning. By the end of the wedding, her back ached, and her feet hurt, and no amount of lavender-scented bubble bath and hot water had helped.
&
nbsp; Painkillers had worked their magic, and she’d been watching a show in bed for an hour before she finally swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Her first thought—after she found some coffee and made toast—was to find out what Wyatt was up to that afternoon. She couldn’t imagine a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than with her hand in his as they walked the beach. A sunset kiss….
Deirdre distracted herself with caffeine and buttery bread, finally pulling out her phone to text Wyatt after she’d put out some cat food for the strays. What are you doing today? Want to grab some fish tacos and wander the cliffs?
There was nothing as amazing as the bluffs overlooking the point where Getaway Bay joined East Bay. One of the Your Tidal Forever’s wedding planners, Charlotte, lived up on the bluff with her husband, Dawson.
There won’t be any people, Deirdre added. It’s private property.
She didn’t particularly like crowds, and she knew Wyatt detested them. He didn’t like the scrutiny, and he always wanted to sit with his back to as many people as possible. As if everyone on the island wouldn’t know his stature.
“Maybe that’s just you,” she muttered to herself as she waited for him to reply. He didn’t immediately, and she went into her backyard to check on her fruit trees. They’d gotten an insect last spring, and she’d been treating them for months to get rid of the pests.
They seemed to be doing well, and she couldn’t wait to have fresh apples, avocados, and limes again.
Her phone chirped, and Deirdre pulled it out of her pocket. Will we be trespassing? That’s a crime, you know.
Deirdre smiled at her device and quickly tapped the phone icon. She could text him, sure, but it was so much easier to talk, and she was tired.
“You called?” he answered.
Deirdre felt like someone had stuck a light bulb in her mouth and switched it on. If someone could see her now, she supposed she’d look like Katelin had yesterday—glowing and oh-so-happy.
“My friend Charlotte owns the land. She lets us come up there and explore. The view is spectacular, and we can go down some steps to the beach too.”
“If I can bring my dog, I’m in,” he said. “He’s been home alone a lot lately.”
“I’m sure you can bring your dog,” she said. “What is he again? A German shepherd?”
“He’s a mix of some sort,” Wyatt said. “His name’s Tigger.”
“That’s right.” Deirdre turned back to the house. “Do you want to pick me up in that Jeep of yours about two?”
“Are we eating at two, or going through dinner?”
“Going through dinner,” she said. “Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m just planning when I can eat next.” He chuckled, and Deirdre did too. “Oh, and I have your dishes. I meant to bring them last night, but I forgot.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “See you in a bit.”
A couple of hours later, she put a portable battery for her phone in her beach bag and declared herself ready. She’d just opened the front door and stepped onto her porch when Wyatt pulled up in that black Jeep.
He got out though she came down the steps, both of them smiling at one another. “Look at you,” he said.
Deirdre did a little twirl for him so her black and floral swimming suit cover-up would flutter around her knees. She laughed at the same time he caught her around the waist, his deeper laugh joining hers.
“And you,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear shorts.” And today, he did. Bright, blue and white tribal patterned shorts, paired with a gray T-shirt that had a police badge printed on the front of it.
“Well, you said beach,” he said. “And bluffs, so I wore real shoes.” He glanced down at her feet. “I see I chose well.”
“Nobody ever said you were dumb,” she said, and he grinned at her.
Before she knew it, he leaned down and swept his lips across her cheek. “It’s great to see you, Deirdre,” he said.
Very few people said that to her, and she basked in the warmth moving through her body. “Thanks,” she said. “It’s good to see you too.”
“I can’t wait to see what this private property looks like,” he said.
Deirdre laughed and shook her hair over her shoulders as they got moving toward the Jeep. “I think you might be disappointed. But let’s go.”
Chapter Eleven
Wyatt didn’t think he’d be disappointed by anything that afternoon. He was with Deirdre, and she made everything into an adventure for him. They could literally sit in his Jeep, and he’d be satisfied.
But they were only in the Jeep for about twenty minutes before she directed him to turn left onto a dirt road. “This must be the private property,” he said. Sure enough, he spied a bright yellow sign declaring it as such as he passed a fence that looked like it was meant to keep cattle contained. “It’s pretty up here.”
The ocean was a smear on the horizon, and Wyatt loved the view in that moment. He’d always loved the island, and he’d never wanted to leave to live somewhere else. He’d never seen snow, and he couldn’t even imagine what true cold felt like. He had lived through tsunamis and volcanic eruptions and hurricanes. But he’d never wanted to leave Getaway Bay.
“So you can go past the house,” Deirdre said. “That’s where Charlotte and Dawson live.”
Wyatt looked at the stunning house that someone obviously spent a lot of time on. “Charlotte is great,” he said. “She did Jen’s wedding.”
“Oh, oh course.” Deirdre scoffed and shook her head. “And here I am talking about her as if you don’t know who she is. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Wyatt continued down the road, his thoughts wandering to his daughter. “She hasn’t called in a while.”
“Who?”
“My daughter.”
“Park right here,” Deirdre said, and Wyatt eased the Jeep to a stop. After getting out, he shouldered a backpack he’d put water and snacks in and took Deirdre’s hand.
“How long is a while?” she asked as she led him down a narrow trail and through the rocks. Some of them were definitely the remains of a volcano, and they were beautiful. Plants and shrubs grew anywhere they could, as well as a wildflower Wyatt didn’t know the name of.
“A couple of weeks,” he said.
“Where is she?”
“Her husband’s going to school in California,” Wyatt said, and the ocean between him and Jen hadn’t bothered him until that moment.
“You have a phone too, Wyatt.”
Surprise punched him in the lungs, and he took a breath to try to get the stinging to stop. “You’re right,” he said. “I do.”
“If you want to talk to her, give her a call.” Deirdre glanced over at him, and Wyatt felt like a fool. She couldn’t call her daughter to talk to her, and he wondered what that could possibly feel like.
Probably a lot like losing his wife, like a piece of herself had died.
He paused, and Deirdre did too. She turned toward him, peering up at him through her sunglasses. “What?”
“Deirdre,” he said, his mind misfiring as his mouth turned dry. “I sure do like you.”
A smile bloomed on her face, and Wyatt didn’t waste another second. He took her into his arms, glad when she came easily. Thrilled that she fit so well. He’d never kissed this woman, and he honestly thought he was about to crash and burn.
Big time.
“I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time,” he whispered.
“Are you scared?” she asked.
“Terrified,” he admitted.
“I’ll help you,” she said, closing the distance between them, which wasn’t much. Wyatt touched his mouth to hers, not quite sure what to expect.
He hadn’t known fireworks could explode down his throat, or that his heart could beat that fast and not burst.
He suddenly remembered what to do, and he growled in the back of his throat when Deirdre pulled away. She didn’t go far though, and Wyatt kissed
her again easily, everything male in him firing with color and sound and light.
Kissing Deirdre brought new life to his soul, and Wyatt thought that maybe that piece of him that had died was coming back. Growing bigger. Brighter.
He finally pulled away, his head swimming and his chest tight. He pulled in a deep breath as Deirdre tucked herself into his arms. “See?” she murmured. “That was beautiful.”
“Beautiful,” Wyatt repeated, swaying with her in his arms. Yes, he could get used to afternoons like this, and he hoped he and Deirdre would have many more of them.
“There’s two tickets to the luau on your desk,” Norma said a few days later when Wyatt stopped at her desk for his morning messages. “And I did book that hot air balloon ride over Lobster Bay for you and Deirdre for next weekend.” She made a check mark next to something on the notebook in front of her. “And your mother called.”
Wyatt finally moved a muscle in his face, and that was to lift his eyebrows. “Must not have been an emergency status call.”
“She’s heard.” Normal adjusted her glasses and set her pencil down.
“Heard what?” Wyatt needed to be in a meeting with his detectives about the shooting-slash-car accident at the business building from last week in five minutes. But his mother calling definitely came first.
“About you and Deirdre,” Norma said matter-of-factly. “I calmed her down, which is why this wasn’t an emergency.” She handed him a piece of paper. “There are the high points. I said you’d call before she went to bed tonight.”
Wyatt sighed, though Norma had given him plenty of time to call his mother. “How can she possibly know? We went to dinner one time, on Friday.” True, about five days had passed since then, and it was very possible Nita Reddy had seen his mother around the island. Though she was nearing eighty, she didn’t let her age stop her from doing anything. Mom did water aerobics every morning at the aquatic center, and she played golf almost every afternoon.