Wish Upon a Wedding

by LuAnn McLane

  Easton explored her body with his hands, his mouth, and when he grazed his teeth over her nipple she gasped.

  “Please . . .”

  “Please what?” He rubbed his thumb over her wet nipple.

  “Please . . . don’t stop.”

  Easton laughed low in his throat. “There is zero chance of me stopping unless you want me to.”

  “Negative zero chance of that . . .”

  “You feel good, taste good, and I can never get enough of you.” He began a trail of kisses down her body and then parted her thighs.

  “I want you inside me.”

  “Just one . . . taste,” he said and flicked his tongue over her core. She arched her back, gasping. “You . . . I’m going . . .” she said, but he came up and silenced her protest with a hot kiss and then entered her with one sure stroke. She wrapped her legs around him and moved in a slow seductive rhythm. Easton threaded his fingers with hers and made love to her the way he’d dreamed about all day long.

  Oh, but the reality was so much better. He was learning the nooks and crannies of Carrie Ann’s body, her pleasure points, and he made sure to pay close attention to each and every one of them. She liked to be kissed and nuzzled on the tender side of her neck, and his nipping her earlobe with his teeth made her breath catch. And her breasts . . . She loved to be caressed and teased; it drove her wild. The other night, after dinner, she sat between his legs and he’d brought her to climax by kissing the back of her neck and stroking her beautiful breasts.

  Easton thrust deeper, faster. When she grabbed his shoulders and cried out, the sound of his name on her lips pushed him over the edge. But Easton’s sweet release was so much more than physical. For the first time in his life, he felt desire to have a woman in his life and by his side. He pulled her close and held her. Brushing her hair to the side, he kissed her shoulder.

  For a few moments neither of them spoke. Easton wanted so much to tell her that he loved her, but something told him to hold back. He knew when she didn’t utter any wisecracks or playful banter that she was feeling the intensity of the moment, the shift of their relationship to something deeper, lasting.

  He kissed her shoulder again, wondering if he should just take the leap of faith and say it . . . Let her know how much he cared for her. But would she say I love you back or run for the hills?

  The words were on the tip of his tongue and he decided that he should just go for it. . . .

  “Carrie Ann, I—”

  “You worked up an appetite?” she asked as if somehow knowing what he was about to say.

  “Yeah, I sure did.” He tugged at her shoulder so that she rolled over to her back. Smiling down at her he kissed her lightly. “Let’s go eat.”

  She smiled back but her eyes appeared stormy.

  “Carrie Ann,” he said and rubbed his fingertip over her bottom lip. “I want us to be . . . exclusive.”

  Her eyes widened slightly and she cupped his cheek. “Of course. Easton, you’re the only man I want in my life.”

  “I mean, I knew that after—well, after this—that we would be but I wanted to say it. You’ve been my friend for a long time and now you’re my girl.”

  She chuckled. “I like being called a girl. Makes me feel young.”

  “You’re my girl,” he repeated.

  “I like the sound of that,” she said, and although something flickered in her eyes, she seemed to relax.

  Easton told himself to be content with this for now but he wouldn’t wait long before telling her that he loved her. They weren’t spring chickens and they’d lost years of what could have been nights like this. He only hoped that she would soon realize how good it could be from this day forward. He planned to do his best to chase away any remaining fear she had of commitment. He thought again about taking her away somewhere . . . Yes, then he’d tell her so there wouldn’t be any chance of her running away.

  “Why do you suddenly look as if you’ve got something up your sleeve?” she asked with a touch of her usual sass.

  “Um, as you well know, I’m naked. No sleeves here.”

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  Easton shrugged. “I think there’s something to be said for a little bit of mystery,” he said with a hint of smugness that he knew would intrigue her to no end. When she opened her mouth to protest he silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Oh, sweet pea, you’re just gonna have to wait.”

  “Come on, Easton.” Carrie Ann narrowed her eyes and pouted but Easton wasn’t about to tell her that he planned to sweep her away for a romantic vacation.

  Easton rubbed his fingertip back and forth over her bottom lip. “My granny used to say that patience is a virtue.”

  “Something I am lacking in, by the way.”

  “And that makes this even more fun,” he said, but when she tried to protest again he covered her mouth with a kiss. And a moment later, she forgot all about fussing at him and melted into his arms.

  10

  On and On

  Sophia stopped shelving shampoo and conditioner and watched her new washing machine in the throes of a spin cycle. The massive machine spun so fast that the towels were nearly dry by the time the cycle ended. Sophia blinked at the stainless steel machines with wonder. Who would have thought that a washer and dryer would bring her such joy? She smiled and did the Snoopy happy dance. Her joy wasn’t really just about the washing machine, but the reality that she was the half owner of her own bridal hair salon!

  Carrie Ann had given Sophia full rein to run the creative end of the business while she tended to the books, which was perfectly fine with Sophia. She needed a budget and guidelines or she’d overspend, not in a frivolous way but with too much enthusiasm. So instead, she’d had fun this past week shopping at thrift shops and antiques stores, searching for bargains in and around Cricket Creek. The result was a shabby-chic look, and Sophia adored the elegant results.

  Sophia brought one of the freshly dried oh-so-soft towels to her nose. She inhaled the delicate scent of lavender knowing all too well that brides-to-be needed the calming effects of aromatherapy. The piped-in playlist consisted mostly of laid-back jazz and old-school love songs setting a soothing mood. Brides needed to be handled with care, and over the past few years, she’d become an expert in the field of frayed nerves.

  Earlier that morning, Sophia had coffee with Nicolina Diamante Monroe, owner of Designs by Diamante, a lovely jewelry shop two doors down from her salon. Nicolina showed her sketches for a complete line of White Lace and Promises hair jewelry that would be created exclusively for Sophia’s clients.

  Later in the week, Sophia had a meeting set up with Addison Greenfield, owner of From This Moment bridal salon, and Gabby Marino, the florist from Flower Power. Together, they could provide a total bridal party experience, all within walking distance of one another on Wedding Row. Grace was already working on pamphlets for the shops to share and a Facebook page chock-full of wedding planning tips. Her sister’s unending ideas and suggestions were enough to make her head spin as fast as the new washing machine. Well, maybe not that fast.

  But in fact, White Lace and Promises was coming together at a much faster pace than she and Carrie Ann had imagined. She’d already landed a few gigs for several weddings and they hadn’t even had their grand opening celebration as of yet.

  Grace assured Sophia that everything would fall into place but in truth a little bit of panic slipped its way past her excitement. Closing her eyes, Sophia inhaled another deep breath of lavender, rubbing the soft towel against her cheek.

  Zoe Dean was scheduled to come in later in the week for a consultation. She thought of Avery and nibbled on the inside of her lip. She thought of Avery a lot . . . as in all the time. But while Sophia and Avery had been out and about in Cricket Creek for the past couple of weeks, Zoe apparently hadn’t totally gotten the message that she and Avery
were a thing . . . or at least pretending to be a thing. Zoe continued a push for Avery to hang out with her, Ashley, and Max. And even though Avery resisted, taking Sophia all around town, Zoe just wouldn’t totally give up on the hope of reuniting Avery and Ashley.

  The pretending part wasn’t going so well for Sophia. In fact, her pretense was pretty much a complete fail. Try as she might, the hand-holding and public displays of affection felt all too real. In addition, Sophia thought about Avery throughout the day and looked forward to spending time with him. And while he ended all of their outings on Sophia’s doorstep, thoughts of making love to him made for a fitful night’s sleep.

  Usually good-natured, Sophia found herself getting a little bit grumpy over little things that she would normally shrug off or even laugh about. So even though she remained extremely excited over the opening of White Lace and Promises, a little cloud hovered over her head, causing bouts of irritability that she couldn’t seem to control. Unlike headstrong Grace, Sophia was a worrier and could slip into a blue funk now and again.

  Like now, when she reached deep into the washing machine for a towel that was suctioned to the back of the tub. The towel remained stubbornly out of reach, making her spitting mad over something so small.

  “Grrr . . .”

  She leaned in farther, causing short-girl problems to raise its ugly head. “Damn it!” she grumbled and leaned in farther. “Aha, you little bugger,” she said, using one of her mother’s English terms that came out of her mouth every so often. “Come to mama!”

  Her toes left the floor and she finally managed to pluck the towel away but when she lifted her head to ease out of the washing machine, the lid decided to flop down and smack her in the small of her back. “Well, damn it all to hell and back! I should have gotten the front-load model!”

  Clutching the towel, she attempted to disengage herself only to realize that she was sort of . . . stuck. While she could rock back and forth, the lid remained shut and her toes failed to touch solid ground. Sophia let out a little squeal of pure frustration. “This is not happening!” She pushed with her hands and legs but had somehow managed to wedge herself even farther into the washing machine.

  Normally Sophia would remain calm, maybe even laugh and then find a way out. But today she cursed a blue streak and her earlier good mood evaporated like rain on a summer sidewalk. To add insult to injury, her phone rang from where it rested on the table where she’d folded towels earlier.

  Dear God, how long was she going to remain here before anyone came to her rescue? With renewed determination she wiggled and managed to move a bit sideways, thinking if she could get at least one arm free she could hoist herself up. Her phone rang again. “I can’t answer; I’m stuck in a damned washing machine!” she shouted.

  A couple of hours passed, okay more like a few minutes, but Sophia couldn’t recall being this totally pissed off. As a hair stylist she’d learned to deal with crisis situations all the time. She had her share of color gone wrong, and she’d even snipped an ear a time or two. But for some reason this little incident had her totally annoyed. She struggled with renewed vigor but managed only to bang her head and bruise her ego.

  And then she started to cry.

  What began as a rather sad whimper quickly escalated into sobs that sounded really hollow and weird while submerged in a washing machine. For a wild second she wondered if this was the way she was going to die, but once she realized there was zero chance of her demise occurring, she calmed down just a tiny bit.

  “Okay, just settle down.” She inhaled what was supposed to be a calming breath, but for some reason, being stuck in this ridiculous situation forced her to take a look at her life or, more accurately, a look at her love life. Her fake love life that wasn’t really so fake—well, at least on her end. Unrequited love really, truly sucked.

  Seriously, her half brother Garret was happily married to sweet Mattie and their daughter, Lily, was the cutest baby in the whole wide world. Grace and Mason were totally in love and Sophia wouldn’t be surprised if Mason popped the question sometime soon. And independent Grace had been adamant that she needed her freedom to wander all over the globe and could never be tied down. Ha! Funny how falling in love changed her sister’s entire attitude about being tied down. While in Cricket Creek for the birth of Lily, her English-born fashion-icon mother met and fell head over high heels for Jimmy Topmiller, former world-class pro bass angler. Sophia didn’t know that a person could become rich and famous for catching fish but apparently it was a real thing. Seriously, who would have thought that her city-born mother would end up with an outdoorsy type? That her mother would become an outdoorsy type? And that Rick Ruleman, Garret’s famous rock star father, would give up his wild leather-clad ways and marry Maggie McMillian, a local real estate agent. Oh, and that Addison Monroe, Garret’s former fiancée and owner of From This Moment bridal salon would marry Reid Greenfield whose sister, Sara, plans lavish barn weddings on their family farm!

  This list in her head went on and on . . . and Sophia would like to make the Cricket Creek falling-in-love list too! Well, if you came right down to it she was already on the falling-in-love-with-a-local-boy list. She was just missing the all-important detail of having Avery’s name on there with her.

  “Well, this is just plain silly.” Sophia inhaled a sharp breath of Tide-scented air. “Okay, sister,” she grumbled, “you need to concentrate on the problem at hand, not the state of your love life. Seriously, who gets stuck in a washing machine?”

  Surely, at some point someone would realize she’d gone missing. Wouldn’t they? Her stomach gave a little growl reminding her that she’d had only a not-so-tasty, hard-as-a-brick granola bar for breakfast instead of the bacon and egg biscuit that she really wanted. And soon she’d have to pee. She had a bladder the size of a doggone walnut and it was quickly responding to the bottle of coconut water she’d guzzled earlier.

  Sophia was contemplating if she should immerse herself farther and push up with both hands when she thought she heard her name being called. Cocking her head to the side she stopped and listened.

  “Sophia?” She heard faintly.

  Yes! Her savior had arrived. The UPS man? She hoped it wasn’t someone she knew.

  “You in here?” She heard more clearly.

  Oh great . . . just her luck. Not the UPS man. Her savior was Avery. How embarrassing. Maybe she’d just keep quiet until he went away, but her bladder gave a cry of protest.

  “Back here!” she shouted, hoping that her muffled voice reached him.

  “Sophia?” Avery shouted again.

  “Back here! In the laundry room!”

  “So-phi-a?” When his voice sounded dimmer she wiggled, panicked, and hit her head again. Her phone rang, probably Avery.

  “I. Am. In. The. Ouch! Laundry . . . Rooooooom!” She felt as if she was stuck on a desert island with a flare that failed to signal the rescue plane. She wanted to jump up and wave her hands. Panic gripped her. “Aaaaa-ver-eeeee!”

  “Soooo-phia?” His steps sounded louder, closer.

  “Here!” She panted. “Laundry room!” Who knew that being stuck could cause her to get out of breath?

  “Oh my God!” His boots clumped in rapid fashion over the tile floor. “What the hell? Are you okay?”

  “Define okay,” she replied in a muffled, mortified, slightly watery tone.

  “Here . . . let me . . .” he said a bit uncertainly. He lifted the lid upright off her back. “Stay still.”

  “Right . . . like I can move.”

  “So, you’re stuck?”

  “No, I decided I needed deep cleaning in the washing machine rather than a shower.”

  “What?” he sounded confused.

  “Yes, I’m stuck!”

  “Oh, well, I got this. I’m going to put my hands around you and hoist you straight up and out of there.”

 
“Okay,” reverberated in the washing machine. She felt his big hands on the waist of her jeans and realized with another hot flash of humiliation that her bum was in his face with a few inches of skin showing, most likely including the lace of her pink panties. At least it wasn’t the whale tail of a thong. She didn’t know how women wore those things wedged up their bum. His long fingers gripped her and as promised he lifted her up and out of her stainless steel prison. When her feet touched the blessed floor, she stood up quickly causing the blood to rush to her head. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she swayed.

  “Sophia, God, are you okay?” The humor was gone from his voice.

  “I . . .” She swallowed hard and inhaled a deep breath, trying to stop her world from spinning. “I think . . . so. I’m a bit light-headed. Just let me lean back against you for a minute.” Or ten. All day might be nice, too.

  “Sure, just take it easy.” His arms remained around her. “Can I get you anything? Water?”

  “My dignity would be lovely.”

  He gave her an uncertain chuckle. “Hey, I’ve gotten myself in worse pickles than this. You sure you don’t want some water or something?”

  “No, thank you.” She shook her head, which was a big mistake when one was dizzy. She groaned thinking she might get sick to her stomach. Wouldn’t that just top it off like a cherry on a sundae?

  “Still dizzy?”

  “High on Tide fumes, I think,” she replied with a weak little chuckle.

  “I have to ask. How did this even happen?”

  Sophia raised the evil little towel still clutched in her hand. “I had a stray and had to lasso it.”

  Avery laughed.

  “And you fell in?”

  “Short-girl problems. And then the lid closed and well . . . I think you get the picture.”

  He laughed harder. She could feel the vibrations in his chest and his arms tightened around her.