Honeysuckle Dreams

by Denise Hunter

  So she didn’t know why she was suddenly nervous as they walked up her apartment stairs. This was hardly a normal first date. She’d already told him about her first-date policy, so there shouldn’t be any “will he or won’t he” tension going on.

  Nevertheless, her hands were trembling as she unlocked her door. She turned around wearing a ready smile to find him standing closer than she’d expected.

  He got even closer as he set his palm on the doorframe over her head. The rich, spicy scent of his cologne was nice. Masculine. She breathed it in and took a moment to appreciate his smoothly shaved face and the sharp turn of his jaw.

  “I do believe you’re leaning,” she said.

  “Leaning?”

  “Haven’t you ever seen While You Were Sleeping?”

  “I guess I missed that one. Does it have something to do with that first-date policy of yours?”

  “No, it has to do with leaning.”

  “Is that against your first-date policy too?”

  “According to Bill Pullman’s character in the movie, leaning has certain . . . implications.”

  He gave her a sideways look. “Now you have me curious.”

  “We’ll have to watch it soon then.”

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Sounds like a second date to me. How about next Saturday. We’ll have Sam, but I can make you supper, and we can watch it after I put him down.”

  “I do like a man who cooks.”

  “Not to mention a man who subjects himself to what I can only assume is a romantic comedy.”

  “You assume correctly, Mr. Collins.”

  He gave a playful scowl. “You may have to wake me up for the leaning part.”

  “I’ll let you pick the next one—and I say that knowing full well you’re a sci-fi fan, so that should tell you how very flexible I am.”

  He held her gaze, an inscrutable look on his face. She watched as he took her in, his eyes dropping to her lips, his lashes dark shadows against his cheeks.

  “What’s that look for?” Her voice wasn’t quite steady. “You’re not thinking of disregarding my policy tonight, are you?”

  “Hmm . . . No. I think I’ll save it until you just can’t wait another minute.”

  “There’s that male ego. I was beginning to wonder if you had one.”

  “I might even make you beg for it.”

  She laughed. “That’s some imagination you have there, Collins.”

  She was still smiling a moment later as he leaned even closer. Until his scent wrapped around her. Until his warm breath caressed her face.

  Then his lips were on her forehead. Soft and warm and sweet.

  She told herself the tightening in her chest was surprise, not disappointment.

  He slowly drew away, a tender smile on his lips. “I had a great time tonight, Hope.”

  “Me too. Thank you for a lovely first date.” The best she’d had in years, she realized. He was just so much fun. And so easy to talk to. He wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes either.

  He pushed away and gave her one last smile before he headed down the stairs. She opened her door and entered her apartment, still feeling the imprint of his lips on her forehead.

  chapter twelve

  Hope entered the small lounge off the ladies’ restroom, smoothing the skirt of her white gown. It rustled quietly with each step, keeping tempo with the heavy thuds of her heart. She couldn’t believe it was already her wedding day. The last month had flown past. Minutes from now she’d be Mrs. Brady Collins.

  Deep breaths.

  As she entered the room Zoe straightened from the mirror, her tube of lipstick poised midair. “Hope . . . You look gorgeous.”

  “Just look at you!” Josephine said. “That dress is perfection.”

  “Oh my lands.” Daisy fanned her face. “I’m gonna cry, y’all.”

  “Don’t do that,” Josephine said. “You’ll mess up all my hard work.”

  “Come over here in front of the mirror.” Zoe ushered Hope in front of the full-length mirror, and her three friends gathered around. They wore short, black dresses of varying styles paired with silver jewelry.

  Hope’s eyes swung to her own reflection, hardly able to believe what she saw. “I love the way you did my hair, Josephine.” The half-up, half-down style included complicated braiding and a waterfall of curls. It sure helped having a hair stylist for a friend.

  Not to mention a flower shop owner. “And the flowers are gorgeous, Daisy. I took a quick peek before I started getting ready. I love the way the honeysuckle drapes from the arrangements. And I could smell the sweet fragrance the minute I walked in.”

  “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding.”

  Hope’s parents had arrived a week ago and helped with the last-minute details. It was so good to see them and catch up. They’d known Brady back in high school, but he’d done a lot of growing up since then. Her dad picked his brain about cars while her mom fussed over Sam. They all got on just fine. She wished they could stay longer, but Ecuador was their home. They were out greeting guests now, and soon her dad would escort her down the aisle.

  Deep, deep breaths.

  “That dress fits you like a glove,” Josephine said. “You’re simply stunning.”

  Daisy palmed Hope’s bare shoulder. “Brady’s going to faint dead away when he sees you coming down that aisle.”

  Hope bit her lip. She hadn’t spoken to her fiancé all day, much less seen him. She’d never realized what a stupid tradition that was. She wanted to look into his eyes and reassure herself that they were on the same page. That he hadn’t changed his mind. That he wasn’t going to be a no-show at his own wedding. Were they crazy? Were they doing the right thing?

  Hope’s eyes fastened on her friends’ in the mirror. “Is he here yet?”

  “Of course he’s here.” Zoe fiddled with Hope’s skirt. “This material is like a cloud. So pretty.”

  “So you’ve actually seen him?”

  Josephine chuckled. “Listen to you.”

  “He’s in the back room getting into his suit with the other guys,” Zoe said. “Relax, everything’s fine.”

  “Is he nervous?”

  “He’s excited.”

  “Is that code for nervous?”

  Josephine laughed. “It’s code for he’s the luckiest man in the world, and he knows it.”

  “Oh!” Daisy said. “That reminds me. I just went in to put on their boutonnieres, and he gave me a message for you. He said to tell you he still has a ‘raging case of permanent insanity.’ I think I got that right . . .”

  Hope froze for a long beat, then threw her head back and laughed. The weight of worry slid right off her shoulders. That guy. She could hug his neck right now.

  Zoe was looking at her, wearing a speculative smile. “That’s more like it.”

  Hope couldn’t seem to stop smiling. She couldn’t believe how just a few words had lifted her spirits. Assured her that this was right. That’s how it was with Brady. She’d truly enjoyed their closer relationship these last two months.

  She touched up her lipstick. “I can’t believe it’s already my wedding day. It seems like he just put the ring on my finger.”

  Zoe smirked. “He did, honey. You had a two-month engagement. If you’d told me a few months ago that you’d be getting married before me, I would never have believed it.”

  Hope’s eyes found Zoe’s, worry of a different kind pressing in. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? I hope you don’t feel like we stole the spotlight.”

  Zoe squeezed her hand. “Not at all. I just want what’s best for you and Brady. My own wedding day will arrive soon enough—in six weeks, to be exact.”

  “And it’s going to be perfect.”

  Daisy checked her phone. “Speaking of arriving, y’all. It’s about that time.”

  “All right, ladies,” Zoe said. “Let’s do this.”

  Brady stuck a finger under his st
iff collar and tugged. He straightened his bow tie, then fiddled with his hair. Stupid cowlick. Couldn’t do a thing with it today. He shrugged into the black suit coat, giving himself a once-over in the mirror.

  He wondered if it was normal to be this nervous. Wondered if Hope was feeling the same way. Then he started second-guessing the message he’d sent through Daisy. What if Hope had taken it the wrong way? What if they were making a big, huge mistake?

  He closed his eyes, whispering a prayer until he felt peace settle over him like a spring fog over the valley. All right. It’s going to be okay. He drew in a deep breath as the need to hyperventilate left him. Smells mingled together in his nose: cologne, flowers, musty hymnals.

  A hand clapped down on his shoulder, startling him.

  “Dude. Relax,” Cruz said, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “It’ll all be over soon.”

  “Wow. Thanks for that.”

  Cruz chuckled, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Everything’s fine. Pastor Jack said it’s time to get out there.”

  Two minutes later Brady, Cruz, Noah, and Pastor Jack stood in front of the small crowd. Mrs. Hammond began a sweet melody on her violin, and the attendants started down the aisle. Brady tried to look around them, hoping for a glimpse of Hope. He needed to see her face. Lock onto her eyes, see that confident smile blooming on her face.

  Zoe and Cruz’s daughter, Gracie, came down the aisle next in a white sundress. She was cute as could be, her red curls framing her face, her skirt bobbing with each careful step. Her eyes found her daddy’s as she neared the front, looking a little lost and uncertain. Cruz pointed toward Zoe on the other side of the aisle, and the crowd chuckled as Gracie scuttled toward her.

  As Gracie settled into place beside Zoe, the violin music segued smoothly into the rousing notes of the “Wedding March.” The crowd stood, turning toward the back of the sanctuary.

  Brady’s heart lurched in his chest as his eyes fixed on the doorway. Hope stepped into the space on the arm of her father.

  Brady’s lungs took a breath and held it hostage. She was gorgeous. Like an angel in her white dress with the light flooding in all around her. Her eyes locked on his, a smile stretching her lips. That smile. It could calm every fear. Brighten every corner. Negotiate peace treaties.

  Mine, his heart whispered.

  She wore no veil, allowing him free access to the twinkle in her eyes as she neared. She was thinking about his message right now, he just knew it. She’d understood. Why had he ever worried? They’d always been on the same wavelength.

  His lips twitched, and she winked at him as Pastor Jack asked who gave her away. Mr. Daniels performed his duties, then took a seat in the pew beside his wife.

  In the next few minutes Brady barely heard a word Jack said. He was too busy thinking about Hope, standing so close beside him. About the amazing gift she was giving him. About how beautiful she was—he was dying to take another peek.

  Instead, he brushed the back of her hand with his, and she laced her fingers with his, squeezing tight.

  A few minutes later her voice was steady as she repeated her vows. And after he recited his, he slid the band onto her finger. It stuck a little on her knuckle, and heat surged up his neck before the ring finally glided over, slipping into place. He released a breath.

  The crowd gave a nervous chuckle as Brady met her smiling eyes. He somehow knew she was thinking about the stuck engagement ring and the ham-swollen fingers that had gotten them both into this.

  Hope’s eyes were locked onto Brady’s as Pastor Jack gave a few last thoughts. Brady’s thumb swept over the sensitive skin on the back of her hand, somehow calming her. She took in his solemn face, his steadfast gaze, and knew a moment of pure certainty.

  Here was a man who would not let her down. A man who would put her before his own desires. A man she could trust and respect. They didn’t come any finer than Brady.

  Her eyes swept over his familiar face, from the smooth line of his jaw to the straight slash of his brows, and upward to the adorable cowlick. It was stiff with product. He’d tried to tame it for their big day. Her heart softened at the thought.

  “Therefore,” Pastor Jack was saying, “by the authority vested in me, and in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I now pronounce you husband and wife. What God hath joined together, let no one put asunder.” He turned to Brady with a crooked smile. “You may kiss your bride.”

  Brady turned toward Hope, his eyes serious and searching hers. He leaned down, his breath a mere prelude, before his lips swept over hers, slow and soft. Her pulse skipped a beat, reminding her how long it had been since she’d been kissed.

  It would’ve been enough, that gentle whisper of a touch, to satisfy the requirement. But he drew her closer and swept his lips over hers once again as if the first taste hadn’t been quite enough. And this time she realized the little pulse-like flutter hadn’t merely been her lack of recent experience.

  Collins could flat-out kiss.

  His lips were the perfect blend of pliant and firm. Reverence and passion. Brady kissed like kissing was the whole point, not a brief stop on a journey to some better destination.

  When he drew away, her eyes fluttered open to meet his heavy-lidded stare. Oooh, those eyes.

  “Not bad, Collins,” she said on an unsteady breath.

  “Not so bad yourself, Daniels.”

  She arched a saucy brow. “It’s Collins now, mister.”

  Something flickered in his eyes. But before he could reply Pastor Jack turned them to face the crowd. His voice boomed across the sanctuary. “I now present to you . . . Mr. and Mrs. Brady Collins.”

  Hope gave Brady a sideways look as the crowd cheered. “Told ya so.”

  Hope’s toes were pinched, and her jaw ached from smiling by the time Brady drew her onto the dance floor for what she assumed was the last slow dance of the night.

  Her boss at the Rusty Nail had hosted the reception as his wedding gift. The food he’d provided at cost, making the whole thing ridiculously affordable. Her parents and attendants had strung the place with white twinkle lights and tulle, transforming the space into a rustic wedding celebration.

  They’d made it through the first dance, the toasts, and the cake. They’d made the rounds, gulped down their food, and joined the wedding party on the dance floor for numerous line dances. It was loads of fun, this wedding stuff. And exhausting.

  She’d only thought about her high school sweetheart twice today. Once when she’d awakened this morning and again when Aaron’s parents had come through the receiving line. Both times she’d pushed the thoughts into the recesses of her mind. It was all such a long time ago. There was no point reliving the past. She had to move forward now. With Brady. And you know what? She could think of worse things.

  She slipped into his arms, sliding her hands up his shoulders, pausing only to straighten his bow tie. She drew in a deep breath, catching a hint of spicy cologne that was all Brady.

  They still had a long drive to Gatlinburg tonight. He hadn’t told her a thing about where they were staying, but after the rushed planning and the tiring day, she was ready for a little getaway.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Brady’s arms came around her as the nostalgic strains of “The Way You Look Tonight” began. His hand made little circles on the small of her back. “Really, Hope. I feel pretty darn lucky—for a lot of different reasons.”

  Her aching jaw managed another smile. “Me too, Brady. And you look awfully handsome yourself. Half the women in Copper Creek are probably going into grief therapy tomorrow.”

  He laughed. “You’re outrageous. And I love that about you.”

  He twirled her around, spinning her gracefully. Flashes flared in the twinkle lights as she came back into his embrace. He tightened his arms, bringing her against him as they moved together as one.

  She’d known he was a good dancer, but he was taking it to a whole new level tonight. “Smooth, Collins. I had no idea y
ou had so many moves.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  She arched a brow at him, but he only chuckled as he led her through another graceful spin. The dance floor grew crowded, so they finished out the dance with Hope’s cheek pressed to his shoulder.

  As the last notes rang out, the memory of his sweet kiss lingered in her mind. A smile curled her lips as she wondered what the rest of the night would bring. What the rest of the weekend would bring. And just for tonight, she didn’t bother looking any further ahead than that.

  chapter thirteen

  Brady unlocked the cabin door and pushed it open, letting Hope enter first. Behind him, beyond the cozy porch, crickets and katydids chirped from a darkened pine grove.

  “Oh!” Hope stopped just inside the door. “I love it!”

  He set down the bags as she spun around, taking in the high-beamed ceiling, the floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace, and the log railing leading to the second-floor loft. The cabin smelled pleasantly of pine cleaner and woodsmoke, and a crackling fire pushed back the evening chill.

  He never would have booked such a rustic place for Audrey, who’d liked things sleek and shiny. But this somewhat luxurious little charmer seemed right up Hope’s ally. He was delighted his instincts had been right on target.

  “Who lit the fire?” She stopped on her way to the hearth, gasping at the bouquet of fresh flowers, which included a cascade of white honeysuckle. “And brought the flowers?” She shot him a you-shouldn’t-have grin.

  He lifted a shoulder. “Just did a little prearranging.”

  She paused to take a whiff of the nearest bloom. “Mmm. Thanks, Brady. You’re such a sweetheart. You’re making me feel guilty for taking you off the dating market.”

  He gave a gruff laugh. “What dating market? I’ve been out of circulation a long time.”

  “Well,” she said, “I’m a lucky girl, and I know it.” She put her hand over her mouth to cover a wide yawn. It was well after midnight, and it had been a long day for both of them.

  “A tired one too, by the looks of it. Why don’t we go ahead and hit the hay? There’s a trail nearby that boasts a beautiful sunrise view.”