The wedding would start any minute. But Jack’s words about resolving conflict followed him like a stubborn shadow, niggling at the back of his mind.
With a deep breath, he stepped onto the porch, flinching as the door slammed shut behind him.
His mother turned from her kneeling position at the edge of the garden, and as Grant approached, he observed her red, puffy features.
At first, it looked like she’d spent several hours crying. Then he noticed the rash covering her neck and arms.
“You got poison oak?” he asked, though he could hardly believe it. While the poisonous plant was pervasive, his mother meticulously kept anything remotely resembling the leafy pest from attacking her pristine flower beds. She must have been particularly distracted to have come in contact with her bare skin.
Surprise flickered in her pinched eyes. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the wedding?” As she spoke, the inflamed flesh around her mouth cracked.
Grant cringed. Each word must be torture.
“I wanted to talk, but I can see you’re in a lot of pain. I’ll come back later, when you’re feeling better.” He turned to go.
“Wait.” Harriet winced as she carefully rose to her feet, causing Grant to suspect the rash had spread to her legs as well. “I have something for you.”
As she crept toward the house, Grant could hardly stand to see the discomfort evident in every step she took.
“Mom, whatever it is, don’t worry about it right now.”
She waved her hand in dismissal before disappearing inside.
While he waited, Grant glanced around the backyard, searching for a shrub with the telltale clusters of three leaves, usually bright green this time of year. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand how she’d become infected. His mother was always methodical; carelessness wasn’t in her nature. He wondered if their quarrel had somehow contributed to her inattentiveness.
Grant shifted his weight, conflicted between his concern over her present condition and his anger at what she’d done. Anger that felt completely justified.
But deserved or not, he couldn’t live with the bitterness. Not only had it slowly deteriorated his relationship with his father, but it had eaten away at his soul for years. In some ways, his unforgiving spirit had been more infectious—and damaging—than his mother’s poison oak. He needed to confront the issue. But he wasn’t sure how….
When she returned, she held something clasped in her hands, now clad in thick oven mitts. “I put these on first, just in case…” Her gaze dropped to her raw, itchy skin.
“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Dragging his teeth across his bottom lip, Grant drew in a breath. His chest tightened, making it difficult to exhale. “Listen, Mom. This may not be the best time, but we need to talk.” He resisted the urge to back down, meeting her swollen, bloodshot eyes. “I know what you did to Eliza. To me. To your own grandson, for that matter. And it’s—”
“Wait. Please.” Her tone earnest, Harriet splayed her hands, revealing the mysterious object.
Grant inhaled sharply, his gaze darting to her face.
His mother’s dry, cracked lips trembled. “I’m so sorry, son. And I know this doesn’t… I don’t deserve…” Her voice broke as a small sob escaped. “This belongs to… Eliza.”
Startled, Grant blinked. She’d said Eliza’s name. No sneer. No grimace, as though the letters arranged in that particular order provoked an involuntary gag reflex. She hadn’t even called her that girl.
Grant’s features softened as he drew his attention back to the item in her hand.
Wrapping his fingers around the smooth velvet, he knew exactly what it was.
And what it meant.
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
While mending their relationship would take time, Grant held out hope.
That maybe… just maybe…
They could all be a family one day.
Chapter 32
Eliza had promised herself she wouldn’t cry.
But as she took in the ethereal beauty of the town square, transformed for Luke and Cassie’s wedding, she couldn’t help it.
A tear slid down her cheek as she caught sight of Maggie sitting in the front row, gazing at her son who stood beneath the arch he’d built with his own hands, her eyes shimmering with unspeakable love and joy.
Eliza’s breath hitched. That would be her someday, when it came time for Ben to get married.
Another tear escaped, gently following the trail of the first.
Strong, warm fingers slipped through hers, and Grant gave a comforting squeeze, reaching over to wipe the tear from her cheek.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered, his gentle breath ruffling the wispy curls framing her face.
Too emotional for words, she squeezed back, grateful Luke and Cassie had gone with an unconventional wedding party—Jack, Penny, and Reed on one side, Colt, herself, and Grant on the other. Ben squirmed by Grant’s side, looking far more eager to sit with Vinny, who lounged dutifully by Donna’s feet in the front row.
As the processional music shifted, the dulcet melody of the “Christmas Waltz” floated across the lawn, the guitar and violin lending a magical quality to the familiar notes.
Eliza’s lips curled into a smile. Only Luke and Cassie could pick a Christmas song in summer and have it fit with utter perfection.
A low rumble drew everyone’s attention to Main Street, where a glimmering 1951 Chevy convertible parked at the end of the square. Sunlight gleamed off the deep-purple paint, highlighting its elegant curves as the sun dipped behind the trees.
Frank Barrie emerged from the driver’s seat, gallantly clothed in a tailored suit the color of rich French roast. He confidently strode around the car and opened the passenger door, offering Cassie his arm.
At the look of intense pride on his face, Eliza nearly broke down completely, recalling the warmth in Cassie’s voice when she’d recounted asking Frank to walk her down the aisle. They’d been sipping coffee on the front porch, and according to Cassie, Frank had cried. Although in true Frank fashion, he’d insisted the moisture in his eyes stemmed from the steam radiating off the freshly brewed coffee. But Cassie hadn’t been fooled for a second.
A collective gasp stirred the crowd as she emerged from the vehicle, a breathtaking vision in vintage ivory lace, her dark curls cascading down her back in silky tendrils.
While everyone stood, turning their attention to Frank and Cassie as they glided down the aisle, Eliza stole a glance at Luke.
He stood perfectly still, barely even breathing as his gaze locked on his bride, tears pooling in his warm, hazel eyes.
As Cassie drew closer, Eliza caught Luke’s lips move almost imperceptibly, forming the words I love you.
Her gaze flitted to Cassie, and she observed her mouth the same words back to Luke.
As the music swelled, Frank handed Cassie off to her groom. But not before planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. Leaning in to Luke, he shook his hand while whispering something in his ear.
Luke’s eyes crinkled in an affectionate smile as he gripped the old man’s hand, shaking on whatever promise he’d just made.
Everyone sat as Pastor Bellman began the ceremony with a few jokes, followed by a brief message on love and the significance of marriage.
Then came Eliza’s favorite part: the wedding vows.
Her heart fluttering in anticipation, she handed Cassie the leather-bound notebook containing her handwritten vows, trading it for her bouquet. As she clasped the arrangement of white roses dotted with bright red berries, Eliza smiled, remembering how Cassie had wept the first time she’d laid eyes on Reed’s special addition.
Per Luke’s request, Reed had spent nearly six months cultivating the coffee shrub in his green house, babying the tropical plant until the blossoms transformed into vibrant cherries. All the care and effort wasn’t lost on Cassie, who’d gushed over the surprise for hours, touched by the thoughtfulness.
; Tearing her gaze from the perfect arrangement, Eliza focused on Cassie, moved by the look of complete and utter adoration on her friend’s features.
“The first time I saw you…” Cassie began, her voice shaky. “You were wearing a Frosty the Snowman sweater. And I confess to thinking you were a little bit crazy.”
Luke chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as Cassie beamed at him.
“But it didn’t take long to realize you were more than crazy about Christmas. You were also the most generous man I’d ever met. Generous with your time. And with your love.” Her voice broke, all attention to her journal forgotten, her gaze fixed on Luke. “You showed me what unconditional, unfailing love looks like. You taught me to hope. And that hope blossomed into assurance.” Passing the vows back to Eliza, Cassie reached for Luke’s hands, her trembling fingers steadying as they laced through his. “I, Cassandra Marie Hayward, vow to never give up hope. To persevere through whatever trials come our way. And to love you more than I love myself. And yes, even more than I love coffee.”
Laughter and sniffling rippled across the sea of guests as Luke kept his grip on Cassie’s hands, ignoring the booklet Colt offered containing his vows.
With his gaze anchored on his bride, Luke cleared his throat. “The first moment I saw you… spitting the coffee I’d made back into your thermos, I fell for you. Literally.”
Luke grinned as Cassie smiled through her tears. “And the more I got to know you, the more I realized your beauty ran far deeper than I’d ever imagined. Your caring heart is visible in the way you love others, from your family to those you barely know. I admire your courage and kindness. And loving you makes me strive to be a better man. I, Luke Ryan Davis, vow to pursue you no matter what. To fight with you and for you. And to joyfully accept the bad with the good. And that especially goes for the cuckoo clock.”
Sharing the laughter of their private joke, they squeezed each other’s hands, earnest desire to seal their vows with a kiss evident across both of their faces.
Eliza sucked in a breath, struggling to keep the tears of joy at bay.
Grant squeezed her hand again, and she stole a glance in his direction, flushing as he winked before returning his gaze to the bride and groom.
Oh, what she wouldn’t give to know exactly what he was thinking in that moment.
“Now, for the exchanging of the rings.” Pastor Bellman gestured to Ben whose bored expression lit up in excitement.
Proudly handing Colt the rings, he beamed at Eliza, and she whispered, “Good job,” as he skipped back to Grant’s side.
Holding out the diamond-encrusted band, Luke slid it on Cassie’s finger. “Ru, do you take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” Cassie said empathically, a slight catch in her throat. Accepting the solid, tungsten ring from Colt’s grasp, she held it out to Luke. “Sprinkles, do you take me to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
His lips twitched. “I do.”
“You may now kiss your bride.” Pastor Bellman took a step backward as Luke eagerly swooped Cassie into his arms, kissing her for so long, the pastor had to clear his throat.
After he pronounced them husband and wife, Luke led Cassie down the aisle to the boisterous cheers of their friends and family, his arm looped around her waist as though he had no intention of ever letting go.
“Shall we?” Grant held out his arm.
Eliza hooked her hand through the crook of his elbow, gazing fondly after the newlyweds.
Someday, she hoped it would be their turn.
And she could hardly wait.
Her pulse skittering, Eliza observed Grant lean over Tommy Jensen, a high schooler and volunteer DJ, and whisper something in his ear.
Flashing a toothy grin, Tommy gave him a thumbs-up.
As Grant strode toward her, the sultry notes of “It Had to Be You” spilled across the dance floor. He offered her his hand, his tender gaze stealing the breath from her lungs.
She floated into his arms, thankful Tommy had chosen the slow, silky rendition crooned by Frank Sinatra, the Sultan of Swoon.
Resting her head against Grant’s chest, Eliza relished the way he nuzzled her hair, whispering the lyrics, low and husky, sending shivers tiptoeing across her bare shoulders. She drank in his intoxicating scent, unaware of anyone else in the world.
“I have something for you,” Grant murmured, pulling back to look at her.
Eliza glanced up, hoping he meant a kiss.
He tucked his hand inside his breast pocket, retrieving a small velvet box.
Eliza froze, her gaze darting from the box to Grant’s face.
“Eliza Lansbury Carter… you deserve the kind of proposal that takes world-domination-level planning, with a thousand moving parts and surprises wrapped in chicanery, tied with a bow of subterfuge.”
Eliza giggled. “But I hate surprises.”
“I promise… when it happens, you’ll love every single second.”
At the look of intensity in his eyes, Eliza’s breath sputtered, stalling in her throat. Heat swept across her cheeks, and every inch of her body, for that matter.
Grant cleared his throat. “Until then… I believe this is yours.” He popped open the lid, revealing a delicate rose gold band. The intricate engravings shimmered in the glittering lights overhead, bringing tears to her eyes.
Grant plucked it from its resting place with one assured motion. “Lizzy, my promise to you has never changed. You are, and always will be, the one and only woman I’ve ever loved. And I will continue to cherish you with each and every breath I take, for as long as I have air to breathe. And delicious desserts to sample.”
Laughing through her tears, she nudged him with her elbow.
Grinning, he slipped the ring on her finger, his deep-blue eyes glistening behind his glasses.
As the smooth, familiar metal grazed her skin, a tear tumbled down Eliza’s cheek.
Tenderly brushing it aside, Grant grasped her newly adorned hand, drawing her against him, swaying to the dulcet notes they’d both long since memorized.
Eliza slid her arms around his shoulders, clasping them behind his neck. “Tell me what it says,” she murmured, although she knew every word by heart.
“What?”
“The inscription.”
A smile teased Grant’s lips as he gazed into her dark eyes, his own glinting with affection. “One life…”
“One love,” she finished on a whisper. Rising onto her tiptoes, she gently brushed her lips against his, quivering as her pulled her closer, deepening their kiss.
As her eyes fluttered closed, she could still see his face, no longer a shadow engulfed in a crowd.
Steady. Constant. Devoted.
A truth she could count on.
For the rest of her life.
Epilogue
Standing on the outskirts of the dance floor, Colt Davis didn’t notice the lively music, boisterous laughter, or swirl of colors as couples spun and twirled past him. He couldn’t take his eyes off Penny Heart, an arresting vision in a coffee-colored dress that accentuated her slender figure and perfect coloring. Although he’d teased her for her red hair and copper eyes in school, he’d never seen a more remarkable combination. He only wished he’d been brave enough to tell her back then.
As he brought a bite of cheesecake to his mouth, cold metal prongs collided with his front teeth. Wincing, he glanced down at the empty fork before noticing the white smear on his silk tie, then the glob of whipped cream on the tip of his Oxford shoes.
He suppressed a groan.
“Maybe you should consider wearing a bib?” Jack teased, handing him a napkin.
“Or stop staring at Penny long enough to make sure the cheesecake makes it all the way into your mouth,” Reed added with a chuckle.
“You two are hilarious.” Rolling his eyes, Colt scrubbed at the stain in agitation. “Really, you should take your comedy act on the road.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Jack
grinned. “Now, let me give you some. Give up now. Penny will never go out with you.”
“Yeah,” Reed agreed. “Especially after you asked out Eliza.”
Colt grimaced. Admittedly, that had been a mistake. Selfishly, he’d hoped dating a single mom would push him toward a sense of responsibility and stability. But the decision had been impulsive. Desperate, even. And he wasn’t proud of it.
But Penny… she was unlike any woman he’d ever met.
Ever since she’d unleashed that tiny yellow ball, plunging him into an unpleasant ice bath, she’d unleashed something else….
An intense desire for something real. Something like Luke and Cassie shared.
For the first time in his life, Colt had met his match.
No, scratch that.
Penny was his superior in every possible way.
And she made him want to do better. To be better.
Even if that meant facing how his father’s death had changed him.
“Who says I want to ask out Penny?” Colt asked, attempting to gauge how obvious he’d been.
“Oh, the fact that you’ve been staring at her for twenty minutes straight.” Jack grinned, loosening his tie. “Unless you’re just trying to get some pointers on how to eat a piece of cake properly.”
Reed joined in Jack’s laughter.
“Ha-ha,” Colt mumbled. Although, he had to admit Jack was on a roll tonight. “I was thinking I’d ask her to dance. That’s all.”
“You can try,” Jack snorted.
Gathering his courage, Colt squared his shoulders.
The odds were definitely against him. But part of turning over a new leaf would require persistence and patience. Two skills he lacked, miserably.
Wadding up the napkin, he tossed it onto a nearby table, acutely aware his pulse had picked up tempo, matching the rhythm of the music being pumped through the speakers.
He’d never been nervous to pursue a woman before.
But this time, everything felt different.
For once, his heart was on the line.
The Truth in Tiramisu (A Poppy Creek Novel Book 2) Page 20