“Unless Lacey’s not worth it …?”
He spun on his heel, bludgeoning a finger in the air while he glared. “Fifteen freakin’ minutes, Preacher Boy, and I’m outta here, ya got that?”
Chase grinned, rankling Jack even more. “Yeah, I got that, Jock Boy.” He ambled toward the door as if they had all the time in the world. “So, tell me, Doc, how do you like your coffee?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it, Rev, I’m not gonna be here that long.”
Chase hesitated with a palm to the door, the grin fading into a solemn smile that somehow stemmed the tide of Jack’s temper. “Sure you are,” he said softly, too soft for a bruiser of a man who used to kick butt in the Navy. “I’ll make it black and strong because something tells me we’re gonna need it.” He gave the door two sharp taps of his palm before offering Jack an understanding smile that completely disarmed the rest of his anger.
“Because between you and me, looks to be a pretty long night.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lacey did her best not to cry, but once Chase pronounced them man and wife and introduced Mr. and Mrs. Matt and Nicki Ball to the crowd, there was no stopping the waterworks. Nicki looked beautiful, of course, and Lacey couldn’t be happier for her and Matt. They both glowed more than the twinkle lights strung around the gazebo in the pink haze of dusk, and there was no question that theirs was a match made in heaven.
Swiping the moisture from her face, she peeked at Jack out of the corner of her eye, standing with the groomsmen on the other side of the gazebo steps. His heart-melting grin caused her stomach to tilt, those blue eyes agleam with quiet laughter over something Nate whispered in his ear. A wistful sigh drifted from Lacey’s lips. Talk about eye candy! In black tails and tie, he made her mouth go dry, surging her pulse as much as a year’s supply of Lindt truffles.
His gaze converged with hers, and a slow grin eased across lips she’d once kissed more times than she could count. Hair in a messy updo of tangled curls, she was certain everyone could see the blood crawling up her neck at the memory, and when he sent her a wink, she thought she just might faint. Heart thudding, she jerked her gaze to the gazebo where Matt and Nicki were doing some serious kissing of their own, rallying the intimate crowd of one hundred with cheers, catcalls, and deafening applause. Lacey whooped and clapped with the rest of them, her joy genuine despite the tears that slipped from her eyes. A marriage made in heaven, indeed. She forced a bright smile to hide the ache in her heart. Something she and Jack might have had once.
But not anymore.
The string quartet crescendoed into the wedding march, and Nicki and Matt stepped from the gazebo in a spray of bubbles and rice. Face flushed with joy, the bride clung to Matt’s arm while he beamed like the sun that was sinking over the Skidaway. Every tree, trellis, and shrub twinkled with little white lights that lent a fairy-tale shimmer against a watercolor sky, while lace and linen tables sparkled with candlelight and china.
“Oh, Nick, I’m so happy for you two!” Lacey flung her arms around her cousin, no stopping the tears as they both laughed and cried together. She pulled away to hold Nicki at arm’s length, scanning her cream off-the-shoulder gown. Its clean and simple lines were adorned by a scattering of seed pearls on the fitted bodice while the tulle skirt flowed to a white rayon runner emblazoned with And the two shall become one. “Even after crying through the entire ceremony, you still look gorgeous!”
“Thanks, Lace. I couldn’t have done this without you, Cuz.” She skimmed a finger along the short off-the-shoulder sleeve of Lacey’s lavender chiffon dress. “And you look beautiful, too, not only managing to find a dress that looks great on you, but on both Sarah and Kelly too.”
Lacey looked around, admiring Sarah and Kelly as they chatted with the groomsmen—or in Kelly’s case, flirted with Jack a little too much. “They do look pretty, as do the groomsmen in those tuxes Matt picked out—hubba-hubba!” Her heart did an annoying flip when Jack glanced her way, but she quickly pivoted to scan Mamaw’s yard, its transformation into a romantic and intimate reception nothing short of stunning. Guests milled and mingled around lace and linen-clad rounds tucked here and there among lush gardens and trees. Off to the right of the gazebo the string quartet played at the edge of a cozy dance floor surrounded by potted plants and ferns, their lilting dinner music soon to be switched out by a DJ just setting up. “I’ll tell you what, Nick, Uncle Cam spared no expense, that’s for darn sure.”
Nicki glanced at her father—home from his naval commission in time for the wedding—now chatting with Tess, Shannon and Cat at Mamaw’s table while Davey and Spence swooped Power Rangers through the air. Her smile tipped. “Yeah, the poor guy felt so guilty for being gone so long, he insisted on carte blanche, but having him home means more than anything.”
“Hey, they’re serving the head table, woman, and I’m hungry.” Matt slipped his arms around Nicki’s waist, making her squeal when he nibbled her neck.
“Me too,” Jack said into Lacey’s ear, sidling close to drape a hand over her shoulder.
Lacey jolted, the heat of his hand on her bare shoulder and the warmth of his breath against the exposed skin of her throat zinging sparks through her body. Her jaw tightened as Jack ushered her to the head round in the center of the yard, its satin tablecloth shimmering with candlelight and a spray of calla lilies. Get a grip, Lacey, she thought as Jack seated her, this is your best friend, not a date.
Yeah, that was the problem.
This was Jack. The best friend who’d begun plaguing her dreams, stealing her sleep, invading her thoughts. This wasn’t supposed to be happening, she silently groused, outwardly laughing as the guys heckled Matt. Blame it on the magical fairy-tale wedding or the fact that Jack looked like a Dolce and Gabbana ad in his tux, jaw shadowed with a bare rasp of beard. Or even the frequency with which she’d been hanging out at the O’Bryen’s of late, fishing on the dock, dinner with the family, horsing around like she was just one of the kids.
Only she wasn’t.
Tess wasn’t her mother, Shannon and Cat weren’t her sisters, and Jack was definitely not her brother. Not the way her heart had begun to race whenever he entered the room. For whatever the reason, she was beginning to feel things for Jack again that she had no right to feel. He was going with Jasmine, after all, and Lacey had no intention of falling for a man without faith.
Too late.
“Speech time, so wish me luck, Carmichael, and in case I haven’t mentioned it, you’re a knock-out in that dress.”
Halting mid chew, Lacey glanced up with prime rib bunching her cheeks, not sure if it was the horseradish sauce or the potent look in Jack’s eyes that sent a brain freeze crackling through her body. Either way, her hands were sweating and her throat closed up.
Rising, Jack ting-ting-tinged his champagne flute, drawing everyone’s attention as he raised his glass in Matt and Nicki’s direction. “I’d like to propose a toast to the man who’s been both best friend and brother as well as a cousin … and to the woman who finally took him off our hands.” Chuckles tittered through the crowd as Jack entertained with stories that elicited both laughter and tears, priming Lacey for her own toast where she literally broke down and cried.
The evening was a blur, from the flip of the garter—snagged by Jack in a good-natured scuffle with Chase—to the toss of the bouquet, handily won by Kelly after she bludgeoned Lacey’s toe. Pictures were taken and cakes were cut, and when the music started, Lacey felt ready to drop. Glancing up, she saw Jack laughing with the DJ and was grateful he wasn’t around to ask her to dance. Sagging into her satin-covered chair, she eased her heels off and massaged the foot that Kelly had trounced, not inclined to further punishment on the dance floor.
“On your feet, Carmichael—I’m in a tux, which is the only time I’m prone to dance, so take advantage.” Tugging her up, Jack didn’t even give her a chance to respond, simply dragged her barefoot across the grass to a dance floor already swarming with people. I
gnoring her protests, he looped his arms around her waist and studied her in a squint. “Have you always been this much of a shrimp, Mike, or am I getting taller?”
“Only your ego,” she quipped, wishing her best friend didn’t look so darn sexy, jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled to reveal thick forearms, veined and scattered with hair.
“Hey, blame it on the tux, not me.” He gave her a slow grin that pooled heat in her belly when the music began to play. “Can I help it if girls think doctors in tuxes are hot?”
She looked away, annoyed by the fire flaming her cheeks. “Hotshot, you mean,” she countered, just aching to wipe the smirk off his face and not really sure why.
His low laughter rumbled beneath her ear when he tugged her to his chest, the strains of Randy Travis’s Forever and Ever, Amen finally registering in her brain. Oh, goodie. Jack’s favorite song to sing during their moonlight floats in his dad’s dory. With a confidence and skill that suddenly ticked her off in the face of her own unease, Jack melded them into the music as if he were on Dancing with the Stars, his moves fluid and totally in control. “Ah, jealous, are we?”
“Ha! You keep thinking that, Dr. Romeo.” A smile shadowed her lips as she closed her eyes, sinking into the warmth of his hold with a quiet sigh. Well, if nothing else, she could enjoy this one dance with a man who spiked her pulse before she shot down anymore slow dances the rest of the night. He started humming the song in her ear, voice husky and low, and her eyelids could do nothing but sink under his spell. The heat of his body and scent of Obsession cologne disarmed her completely, confirming that Jack O’Bryen was quickly becoming an obsession in which she could no longer indulge.
Not as a boyfriend nor as a best friend.
His low baritone hushed to a whisper when the husky lyrics blew warm in her ear, a man pledging his love forever and ever, until the day that he died ...
Against her will, hot tears pricked, and Lacey pushed away from his chest with a plastic smile, determined to break the spell of a “best man” who was anything but “best” for her. “Not too close, O’Bryen. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not risk Jasmine slashing my tires.” The distance she put between them helped to clear the fog from her mind, and lips in a slant, she scanned the backyard. “Speaking of the little missus, what time is she coming tonight?”
“She’s not.”
Lacey’s gaze snapped to his, mouth sagging open. “Are you serious? Why on earth not?” She tried to deflect her shock with a casual air, brushing imaginary lint off his gray satin vest before teasing with a slide of her palm down a shirtsleeve taut with muscle. “Goodness, if I had a boyfriend who looked like you in a tux, Brye, I think I’d be here to protect my interest.”
He didn’t let go when the song came to an end, his hands all but burning through the chiffon when they firmly anchored to the small of her back. “Because a best man has an obligation to the maid of honor, Miss Carmichael.” The tease in his tone quickly faded to soft when his gaze flicked to her lips and back. “Especially when his interests are at stake …”
Blood shot to her cheeks, all but asphyxiating her as she stumbled back, her knees as weak as her smile. “I need air,” she rasped, not sure she knew what he was talking about, but not willing to stay and find out. A gulp wobbled her throat. “And something really cold to drink …”
She whirled around to bolt away, only to bounce against his chest when he tugged her back, locking her in a powerful hold. “There’s air all around you, Lace,” he whispered, so close she could smell the Godiva chocolate on his breath from the wedding favors strewn on the table. “But a walk to the dock would be nice. I’ll grab a couple of waters on the way.”
She tried to squirm free as politely as possible, pulse pounding harder than the bass of the Third Day song the D.J. was now blasting into the night. “Jack, my feet are killing me, so I’m afraid I need to pass on both walks and dances—”
His sober look stopped her dead in her tracks. “We need to talk, Lace,” he said quietly, “and for me, it’s pretty serious.”
She stared, dread crawling in her stomach at his solemn look. She swallowed hard. “All right—you get the waters, and I’ll grab my shoes.”
Her mind and her stomach were awhirl as she snatched up her heels at the table, grateful that the wedding party was out on the dance floor and not likely to notice where she and Jack went. What could he possibly want? And what on earth could be wrong? In a slow blink of those deadly blue eyes, it seemed as if he’d morphed into the Jack of old—serious and intense, with that fierce gleam in his gaze that told her he cared way too much. A tremble rippled through her as she put on her shoes, well aware that that Jack was far more dangerous to her state of mind than the man about town.
Especially now.
“How are your feet?” he asked as she carefully picked her way through the grass in Mamaw’s front yard where a vermillion sun leaked ribbons of gold over the roof of the community dock at the end of the street.
She gave a slight shrug, taking the bottled water he handed her while avoiding his eyes. “Nothing three hours in a hot soak won’t cure.” Praying she wouldn’t trip in her heels, Lacey winced as she limped along toward the dock a block away. Mid-wince, she gasped when Jack halted to swoop her up in his arms, swirling heat in her stomach. “What on earth are you doing, O’Bryen?” she squeaked, grateful it was getting dark so no one would spot her in his arms.
He stopped midway, enough dusky light in his face to see the jut of his brow. “You’re going to break your neck in those stupid heels, Lace, and frankly, I don’t want to ruin Matt’s wedding with a trip to the emergency room, all right?”
She squirmed in his arms, attempting to get down. “I’ll take them off, then.”
“Nope.” He continued to stride toward the deserted dock, now washed in shadows of purple and pink. “You’re a tenderfoot, remember?”
“Fine.” She unleashed a loud bluster of air, not at all comfortable with the tingles from the constant bump of her body against his. Neither spoke while he carried her to the far edge of the dock, the sounds of the night cocooning them in a familiar setting far more magical than any fairy-tale wedding. The strains of music seemed to melt into the background, giving way to the croak of tree frogs and the distant hoot of an owl. Lazy squeaks from the dock sounded as they shifted on the water, their moonlit shadows appearing to roll along with the river. An eerie beauty that had always both seduced and soothed.
Especially in Jack’s arms.
He carefully set her on a chipped and peeling Adirondack loveseat facing the river as if she were just as fragile, sliding in beside her and tugging her close. They sat side-by-side, silently staring into the moonlit waters while she reluctantly rested her head on his shoulder. The gentle lap of the waves were a welcome tranquilizer for Lacey’s ragged nerves. A tranquility that immediately fled at the whisper of his very next words.
“I love you, Alycia Anne.”
Her body stiffened against his while her breath seized in her lungs. Swallowing hard, she sat up, gaze pinned to his sculpted profile. “I … love you, too, Jack,” she managed in a casual tone, determined to ignore the intensity in his. “And I thank God He’s allowed us to be friends.”
Before she could even move, his large palm curled around hers, knitting their fingers together in a tender hold that notched her pulse by several degrees. He turned his head to lock her in a powerful gaze that literally numbed her to the chair. “We’re far more than friends, Lace, and we both know it.”
No! Fighting his spell, she jerked free and shot to her feet so quickly, she tottered on her heels, the beds of her nails white as her fingers balanced on the arm of the chair. “I can’t go there, Jack—”
In a single thud of her heart he rose, facing her with a firm brace of her arms. “And I can’t go anywhere else.”
His tender look seared both her soul and her body with a rush of desire so potent, she nearly drowned in a sea of want.
“I
’m desperately in love with you, Lacey, and the truth is, I’ve never stopped, even with a mountain of hurt and hate piled on top.” His voice lowered to a husky whisper while his thumbs coaxed with a slow graze of her arms. “I need you in my life, Lace—as my friend, yes, but also as my wife and lover.” Fire licked through her veins when his gaze lowered to her mouth, eyelids sheathing closed as he slowly bent in.
“No!” She shoved him away, breaking his hold. Her breathing was erratic while she held him at bay, the flames of desire igniting her temper as well. “In the name of decency, Jack O’Bryen, what kind of man cheats on his girlfriend?”
The edge of his mouth twitched as if a smile hovered beneath. “I’m not ‘cheating’ on her, Lace, I’m trying to declare my love for her.”
She folded her arms with a huff. “Well, I imagine Jasmine would have a few choice words to say about that.”
The smile broke free as he scooped her close again, holding her captive in the circle of his arms. “I imagine she would, but since I broke up with her last night, she doesn’t carry much weight, you know?”
Her body went limp. “You b-broke up w-with Jasmine?” Mind racing, she tried to think back over the last few weeks when Jack always seemed to be around whenever she hung out with Shannon and Cat. Her heart stuttered more than her words. “For h-heaven’s s-sake, why?”
He caressed the edge of her jaw, his eyes as tender as his touch. “Because I’m still in love with my old girlfriend, Mike, the one who was supposed to be my wife.”
Her heart seized. “I can’t, Jack,” she whispered, her voice a rasp as she struggled to break away. Moisture stung in her eyes. “I can’t marry a man with no faith.”
His palm gently brushed the hair from her face. “I do have faith, Lace. Faith in the fact that we were always meant to be together and that both of us are still in love with the other.”
She shook her head vehemently, desperate to dispel any notion he might have of getting back together. “I’m not in love with you, Jack, not that way,” she said loudly, more to convince herself than him. “I do love you, but as a friend and nothi—”
Isle of Hope Page 34