Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4)

by Sarah O'Rourke

  “Ohhhh, dirty deeds done in the barn! You got my time in the walk-in freezer with Cain beat,” Faith giggled.

  “Well, now, that puts a new light on things,” Harmony murmured with a grin.

  “My, my, my,” Maggie breathed. “Stall sex sounds simply divine.”

  “We were in the hayloft!” Honor replied, clapping a hand over her mouth when she realized she’d just confirmed everyone’s suspicions.

  “Even better!” Maggie praised. “Tell us everything!”

  “No detail is too big or small,” Aunt Orla added with an eager nod.

  “I am not sharing any details with y’all, big, small or any other size. Suffice it to say that the barn is a place that I treasure. I want to get married there. Zeke agreed to restore it for me so that we could say our vows there. And that is the only detail that you nosy gals are gettin’! Now, what’s this nonsense about birds or butterflies, Harmony?”

  “Which of them do you want released after the ceremony? Butterflies would be cheaper, but the doves are soooo much more elegant.” It was beyond obvious which choice Harmony was hoping Honor would choose.

  “Not if the bird craps on the bride’s head,” Patience pointed out with a smirk.

  “We’ll go with the butterflies, Harm.” Honor chose quickly.

  Harmony’s face fell. “Fine,” she grumbled, making a note on her legal pad before taking a deep breath. “Now, it’s time to talk about your wedding party, and this time, you aren’t going to make an escape until you choose a Maid of Honor to stand with you. Zeke’s already chosen Ice as his Best Man, but you’ve yet to name your Maid of Honor. You and Zeke indicated that you only wanted one person each standing up with y’all and it’s time to choose that person, sis, so that you can choose the dress she’ll be wearing.”

  Honor had known this decision would have to be made sooner or later and she’d known it would be difficult. She hadn’t wanted a huge wedding party because she’d always found them pretentious. On the other hand, the last thing she wanted to do was offend anybody. And she was terrified she would. She’d been agonizing over the decision for weeks, but she still wasn’t any closer to making up her mind now than she’d been a month ago when Zeke had asked Ice to be his best man over supper one night. “This isn’t fair,” she mumbled. “Zeke only had one brother. Making up his mind was a breeze.” Looking from Harmony to Faith to Patience to Maggie, she sighed and shook her head. “I have three blood sisters and another that’s a sister in our hearts,” she decreed, gesturing to a faintly smiling Maggie. “It’s impossible for me to choose just one of you. It would be like asking a parent to pick her favorite child. It can’t be done!” Honor threw her hands up in the air. “It just can’t!” she cried.

  “Child, calm yourself before I hold your nose and pour some of Jethro’s moonshine down your throat the way I used to make you swallow your cough medicine when you were a little ‘un,” Orla warned as she reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a handful of tooth picks. All eyes watched as the old woman made a show of counting out four toothpicks and breaking the tip off one of them. Putting her hands underneath the table to get them in order, she finally lifting one hand and pushed it into the center of the round table where they were all seated. “Alright, girls,” she said, looking around at everyone except Honor, “Get in here and grab a toothpick from my hand.”

  Honor held her breath as each woman leaned forward, one after the other, and chose a skinny toothpick from Orla’s closed fist until none remained.

  “Now, hold ‘em up. Short stick stands up with Honor at the wedding,” Aunt Orla decreed.

  “Not me,” Harmony grinned after she took a look at her unbroken toothpick.

  “Me either,” Faith added, dropping her toothpick to the table and looking around at the other women.

  “I’m out,” Maggie announced with a little shake of her vibrant red head..

  “Looks like it’s you and me, baby sister,” Patience declared with twinkling eyes as she held up the broken toothpick. “Don’t you worry about a thing. Your bachelorette party is going to kick ass!”

  “Oh, crud,” Honor muttered. “No naked men, Pitty Pat,” she quickly mandated, instantly knowing her older sister was mentally flipping through a catalogue of strippers. It wouldn’t be hard for her to locate one given the fact that their bartender, Verlena, had been what she delicately called an ‘adult entertainer’ once upon a time. Seeing her siblings crestfallen expression, Honor quickly added, “You know Zeke wouldn’t like it and neither would Abel.”

  “You say that like it’s a deal breaker,” Patience pouted.

  “Let’s put a pin in the bachelorette party and go back to the dress. What do you want Patience to wear, Honor?” Harmony asked, tapping her ink pen against the yellow pad impatiently. “You chose sapphire and antique rose as your wedding colors. Which would you prefer she wear?”

  “Ohhhh…say sapphire,” Patience begged, momentarily distracted from all thoughts of muscled hunks dancing around in thongs. “Raleigh, over at the hair salon, suggested an idea for aqua-inspired highlights that would ROCK that color dress!”

  “Go for it,” Honor agreed with a smile at her excited sister. If there was one thing Patience McKinnon Turner LOVED, it was a new hair color to highlight her blonde, chin length tresses. The wilder, the better. “My only request is that the dress be at least knee length. Any shorter and it’ll look weird next to my full length wedding gown in the pictures.”

  Faith snapped her fingers. “Speaking of pictures, I spoke to Ben Atkins when I went into Dawson’s Studio to pick up the baby’s nine-month photos, and he said that he still needs to shoot that engagement photo for you and Zeke if you want it in next week’s Sunday edition of the paper.”

  Honor’s nose curled distastefully, but she nodded at her sister. She hated the idea of having to pose like a mannequin for a picture, but she knew it was also the most expedient way to invite anyone that they might have missed mailing an invitation. Since Zeke was an elected public figure and she owned a business in town, neither one of them could afford to offend anybody. She should be grateful that Ben had reminded Faith about the photo. He was one of the most in demand photographers in the state. The man had won awards for some of the photographs he’d taken of the Smoky Mountain Range. But since Ben and Zeke had become friends when the off-duty Sheriff had stopped and helped the stranded photographer out last winter when the guy had gotten a flat tire in the middle of a snow storm, he’d offered to take their wedding pictures for free as his wedding present. All they’d be responsible for was purchasing their final pictures, and Honor certainly wasn’t going to turn her nose up at that generous gift. “I’ll ask Zeke what his schedule will be like tomorrow and call Ben in the morning.”

  “What about the wedding dress? Have you called Violet yet to schedule your fitting?” Maggie asked, frowning when Honor narrowed her eyes at her. “Uh oh, I smell a lecture coming on,” she drawled, rolling her bright green eyes.

  Honor nodded, relieved there was finally something mentioned that she had actually handled already. “Yep. I go in next Monday. I still can’t believe you went and bought my wedding dress behind my back, Mags. I told you it was way too expensive,” Honor chastised, shooting the red-haired woman a stern, reproving look. God’s truth, she loved Maggie Winstead as much as any of her sisters, but the woman had entirely no sense when it came to the value of a dollar. Old money on both her mother’s and her father’s side kept the woman flush with cash, and the long and short of it was that Mags could buy and sell practically anyone and everyone in Paradise if she wanted to. In spite of that fact, the fiery vixen still worked as Patience’s husband, Abel’s, para-legal and office manager. It was not because she needed the paycheck, but because she insisted she’d miss all the good gossip if she quit her job – and losing her pipeline to all of Paradise’s juicy scandals was simply not acceptable to Maggie.

  “You loved that dress. Don’t you dare deny it,” Maggie retorted,
unmoved by Honor’s censorious look.

  “Of course I loved it! It was Vera Wang, Maggie!” Honor returned, shaking her head.

  “So?” Maggie shrugged.

  “Maggie, that dress was thousands of dollars! It was spotlighted in Cosmo, for heaven’s sake!”

  “I’m rich, Honor,” Maggie returned in a bored voice.

  “We’re not!” Honor hissed, nearly vibrating in her seat.

  “Honor,” Maggie said, softening her voice as she stared at the younger woman, “I loved my mother, but she’s gone now. I have a brother I barely know, don’t see or speak to, and you’ve met my bastard of a father. The only thing my mother was able to leave me was her money, and I can’t take it with me when I die, hon. You, Patience, Faith, Harmony and Aunt Orla are the family I got to choose. Just like Cain, Abel, and Daddy Seth. I saw your face light up when you saw that dress last month, girl. It was the dress. It was written all over your face. I had the power to make that particular dream come true, so I made it happen. It made me happy. Let me have that, sweetie.”

  “Lord, I sound like a brat,” Honor groaned, reaching out for Maggie’s hand. “I am grateful, Mags. I love you to the moon and back, but you should save your money for when you get married and have you own kids…”

  Maggie recoiled at that, a look a dismay descending over her face. “Take that back, Honor McKinnon!”

  “What?” Honor asked blankly, her eyes widening.

  Maggie straightened in her chair in much the same way a queen would shift on her throne, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin regally. “Much like parenthood, I will not be doing that. Sacrificing myself at the matrimonial altar doesn’t sound nearly like the party you McKinnon ladies have purported it to be.”

  “Mags, with the right man, a baby is a gift from God. So is a husband,” Faith enthused as she propped her chin in her hand and stared at the other woman with a serene smile.

  Maggie titled her head as she stared at the optimistic woman. “Tell the truth, Faith. You take valium, don’t you? Or maybe a little Xanax?”

  “Maggie!” Honor admonished, nearly choking on her laugh.

  “What? Nobody can be that freaking happy all the time without medical intervention,” Maggie insisted.

  “Preach,” Patience agreed, nodding energetically with a wide grin.

  “Yoga, a macrobiotic diet, and clean living,” Faith asserted. “Those are my only drugs, my friend.

  “Sure, but you follow all that up with an Ativan chaser at night, right?” Maggie questioned sweetly.

  “I don’t care what you say. A baby would be good for you,” Faith proclaimed, ignoring Maggie’s playful verbal jabs. “Look how much it’s softened Patience over here,” she claimed, jerking her head toward her now fuming sibling.

  “Oh, those are fightin’ words,” Aunt Orla cackled, rubbing her hands together.

  “Oh, heck, everybody grab your glass of sweet tea,” Harmony ordered, smoothly reaching out to snag her heavy, sweating glass from the table as Patience stiffened.

  “Excuse me!” the McKinnon sister in question barked. “I am STILL a hard ass!”

  “Is that why I caught you singing the Itsy Bitsy Spider instead of AC/DC this morning while you were washing dishes? For heaven’s sake, Pitty Pat, you’re even wearing a Rainbow Brite tee shirt instead of one of those obnoxious band shirts you used to wear every day. Not softened, my hiney!”

  Seeing her sister’s eyes dilating, Honor laid a calming hand on the woman’s arm. “Patience, remember, you’re holding a baby. Use your big girl mommy words.”

  “I’ll have you know this shirt was a gift from my husband last week because my orange highlights reminded him of Rainbow Brite!” Patience growled. “And Rainbow Brite is badass.”

  “Yeah, I bet she can blow a rainbow right out her hoo-ha,” Aunt Orla declared with a straight face.

  Clearing her throat, Maggie held up a hand. “My point is that other than you insane fools, I have no family, Honor. If I wanna buy you a wedding dress that makes even me want to bow before the couture angels, I’m gonna do it and you’re gonna like it! Got it?”

  “Got it,” Honor agreed with a soft smile. “And thank you. I’ll treasure it always. And you never know, maybe one day, you can wear it in your wedding – like a kind of tradition.”

  “I don’t think so. Marriage would require a man, sweetie, and a man would require me to at least try to act like I care about what he thinks. Over the years, I’ve found that I’m not a very good actress,” Maggie replied easily, smoothing the seam over of expensive pencil skirt down the side of her legs.

  “With the right guy maybe you wouldn’t have to pretend,” Harmony pointed out.

  “You can’t deny that you and my future brother-in-law seem to have a certain… chemistry,” Honor suggested delicately. It was true, too. For the last six weeks of family dinners, when Maggie and Ice got within yelling distance of each other, sparks flew. They rubbed each other the wrong way… or, maybe they rubbed it each other just the right way. Honor wasn’t sure yet. The only certain thing was that where Maggie was concerned, Honor had seen genuine interest burning in Ice’s usually chilling gaze over the last several weeks.

  “The Manolo murdering prick? Not interested,” Maggie retorted, her cheeks darkening with color as her eyes narrowed.

  “She’ll never forgive that man for her shoes,” Patience said sadly.

  Honor grinned. It was probably true. A couple years back, Ice had driven by Maggie when she’d been pulled over on the side of the road checking her tire and ruined one of her prized couture outfits, shoes included. And if there was one thing Maggie couldn’t forgive, it was ruining one of her prized outfits. It didn’t matter that she could buy a dozen more to replace the one she lost. The contents of her closets were her treasured possessions, and she hadn’t taken kindly to Ice’s marked lack of concern over his social faux paus.

  “He killed those heels in cold blood, Patience. There is no forgiveness when you desecrate a pair of Manolo Blahniks!”

  “You tell ‘em, sister,” Harmony said sympathetically before tapping her pad again. “One last thing, and we can go. Honor, we’ve got to book a band. Take these,” she said, passing her sister two DVDs without cases.

  “What are they?” Honor asked, reaching for the discs.

  “Those are DVDs of two very good bands at weddings they played last winter. Pick which one you like so that we can book one. Please?” Harmony shot her sister a pleading look. “Otherwise, the only band you’ll get is Buddy Fitzpatrick strumming his banjo.”

  “I’ll do it tonight. I’ve got to make some orders out for the restaurant this afternoon. I’ll put them on in the kitchen and watch while I work.”

  “Great!” Harmony announced, slapping her hand against the table. “Then I think we’re done here.”

  “On that note, I hereby declare this meeting of the matrimonial minds adjourned,” Honor pronounced, pumping her fist into the air as the women began to scatter.

  Distracted waitresses ran between tables freshening their customers’ coffee while the lone cook of the afternoon took a brief break to come out to the dining room and visit with his wife. None of them - certainly not the chattering McKinnon family - were aware of the tall man keeping to the shadows along the wall as he made his way toward the café’s kitchen.

  No one saw his arrogant smirk when he slipped into the restaurant’s office, unnoticed, and drop a seemingly harmless DVD of his own in the center of the neat desk. No one saw him trail his gloved fingers against the service as he reached for the sweater Honor had left hanging on the back of her chair. No one saw him lift the soft material to his nose and inhale deeply, groaning low in his throat as if he was in ecstasy.

  And still, no one saw him slip out just a few moments later, unobserved by anyone, to go on with his day.

  But everyone would later wonder how the hell they missed seeing the man responsible for nearly destroying Honor McKinnon for the second tim
e in her life.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  August 18, 2016 – The McKinnon Barn

  4:30 pm

  Zeke

  “Seriously? A barn?” Slade Cansler grunted, offering his favorite cousin’s man a disbelieving sidelong look. “This was her idea? For real? Because I know I’ve been gone for a while, but I just can’t imagine little Honor agreeing to marry your ass in a barn. Of course, when I left to take that construction job down in Savannah, I never imagined when I got back you’d have convinced her to marry you, either, so what do I know?” he continued, clapping Zeke on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Can’t say I’m disappointed, though. I know you’ll take good care of her.”

  “He better,” Uncle Jethro’s aging voice threatened as he leaned heavily on his cane.

  “Oh, he will,” Jake Stone declared, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s got three strapping brothers-in-law that will collectively kick his ass if he steps out of line,” his deep voice warned.

  Zeke rolled his eyes at Jake’s threat as his gaze shifted from Jake to Abel to Cain. “You morons do realize that I played a role in getting all three of you asshats hitched to the McKinnon woman of your dreams, right?”

  All three men blustered and Zeke snorted as he propped his hands on his lean hips. “Cain, without me talking Honor into pleading your case, you’d never have gotten your second chance with Faith,” he informed the scarred doctor with a glare. “True or false?”

  Cain’s lips twitched. “I like to think my charm would have eventually won her over, but I suppose you’ve got a point.”

  “And you, Mister Former Undercover DEA Agent who thought it’d be a good idea to lie to the woman he loved about who he was for months,” Zeke growled to Jake. “If I hadn’t pled your case before the Court of McKinnon, you’d still be trying to beg your way back into Harmony’s bed, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’d have eventually gotten there,” Jake grumbled. “Wildcat would have eventually forgiven me.”