One More Night

by Jennifer Mckenzie

  “Why?” She wasn’t sure he heard her over the roar of the surf, the street noises that were part of city life. But relief showed on his face.

  “I promise that everything will become clear. But you need to get on the plane.”

  She didn’t want to think about the sweet look on his face, the hope in his eyes. Just because he thought he’d changed didn’t mean he had. But she didn’t move her hand from his chest. “And if I say no?”

  “Then I’ll take you out for dinner in the city or a walk or a movie or whatever you want.”

  She felt some of the tension knotting her muscles slide away. “But this is important to you.”

  “Like I said, it’s all part of my plan.” He brought her hand to his mouth, brushed his lips across the back. She felt the sizzle all the way to her toes. “But I would understand if you’d prefer not to.”

  Grace exhaled away the last of her reservations. She was already out here, had already said yes to giving him a chance. Who was she to say no to a plan?

  She looked at the tiny plane bobbing on the water and nodded.

  “Thank you.” He kissed her hand again and this time, she was pretty sure the sizzle went through her toes and around again.

  She’d been on a float plan before, but this plane was nothing like that one. Rather than the shoulder-to-shoulder setup she’d been expecting, the cabin was pure first-class with wide leather seats that were swiveled to face a sofa and a fold-out table in bird’s-eye maple. It would have looked like a businessman’s paradise except that the table held a massive vase of red roses and a bottle of champagne.

  Grace turned to look at Owen. He’d stopped to chat with the pilot, who was looking over the plane. He seemed to sense her gaze and smiled that smile that nearly knocked her backward. She gripped the side of the door, hovering half in and half out of the plane until he finished his conversation and moved to join her. “Owen?”

  “You were expecting someone else?”

  “What is all this?”

  “Just part of the surprise.” He bounded up the stairs in two long strides.

  Grace looked back at the setup. It was beautiful. And quality. She stepped into the cabin when Owen nudged her. The petals of the roses were velvety soft and their scent tickled her nose. There had to be three dozen. She bent her head and inhaled. “It’s gorgeous.”

  But it didn’t prove that he’d changed. He used to bring her flowers before. Just because these were on a plane didn’t mean anything was different. But it was hard not to linger over the blooms and wonder.

  She took a single seat across from Owen, buckling up and trying to get control of her breathing. Slowly, her Pilates training shone through and her inhalations slowed and steadied, which was more than she could say for the little plane as it bucked out of the water and into the air.

  Owen barely waited for it to level out before he undid his own seat belt and came to kneel before her.

  “Owen?” What was he doing? Why was he out of his seat? The pilot hadn’t said it was safe to move about the cabin yet.

  “I can’t wait.” As she watched, he put a hand in his pocket and slowly produced a black velvet box. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask.”

  She stared at him. At the box. At him. At the box. He flipped the lid to show off a stunning French-set halo diamond band that she was sure would glint and sparkle even in the dimmest light. Awe made her mouth go dry.

  “Grace Gaia Monroe. Will you marry me?”

  She looked at him and tried to swallow. What was he playing at here? Why now?

  “Grace?” His brow furrowed.

  She didn’t know if she could say yes, but she knew she couldn’t say no. So she just looked at him. A small bead of sweat appeared on his brow. “Why?”

  “Because I love you. Because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever. But, Grace—” his throat bobbed “—you’re really going to need to give me an answer or this is going to get embarrassing.”

  Now Grace was confused. Embarrassing? It wasn’t as though she hadn’t said no before. Of course, he hadn’t had a ring nor had they been en route to some likely romantic location, but embarrassing didn’t seem the right description. “How so?”

  “Well, aside from the fact that I’m down on one knee waiting with bated breath, there’s the small issue of our wedding party waiting for us at the other end.”

  Grace jolted back. Wedding party? “You mean engagement.”

  “No.” A second bead of sweat joined the first. “Wedding. As in our wedding. All our family and friends. Waiting to see us tie the knot.”

  “Before I even said yes?” She glanced down at the gorgeous ring again.

  “Hence the embarrassing part.” She saw his throat bob. “I thought it would show you that I’ve changed, that I’m serious about this, about us. But—” another throat bob “—I see now I might have put you in an awkward situation.”

  “You might have.” Her eyes met his, saw the fear and the hope in them. “If I was going to say no.”

  “So is that a yes or do I have to ask again?”

  “It’s a yes.” She held her hand toward him, shivered when the cool metal slid along her finger. Even the fit was perfect, tight enough so the weight of the stone didn’t make it spin, but not so tight that it felt uncomfortable. She held her hand out so she could look at it properly. The way it picked up light and refracted it back. How good it felt. How Owen looked when he saw it on her. “But maybe you could ask again, now that I’m ready.”

  “Grace Gaia Monroe. Will you marry me?”

  Grace didn’t need to think about it this time. “Yes.” She threw her arms around him and held on tight. “Even though you called me that horrible name.”

  “What? Grace?” He kissed the side of her neck as he lifted them both to a standing position.

  She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in, well, forever. “I hope you’re not poking fun at my name.”

  “It’s just that Gaia has such a nice ring to it.”

  Grace snickered. “Oh, good. Then you won’t be upset if I tell my mother you’re considering changing your name to be at one with nature.”

  She felt the lift of his eyebrow and the curl of his smile. “Would you?” He sank back onto the couch, bringing her with him so she landed on his lap and carefully removing her suit coat. Then he flicked open the top three buttons on her shirt, his fingers trailing across her skin as he did, making her shiver and yearn.

  “Yes.” Grace let her eyes drift shut to enjoy his attentions. “She’ll make you drink her special tea and do a ceremony, too.”

  He pushed back her shirt to expose her shoulder and upper chest and kissed his way down. “Will she read my tea leaves?”

  “Only if you’re lucky.”

  “Well, then I hope my luck holds.” He licked the side of her neck.

  Grace was distracted by him kissing her again and by her ring when the sun flashed across it. “Owen?” She leaned back. Her suit jacket had been tossed aside and her shirt was completely unbuttoned.

  “Yes.” He kissed her neck again.

  “We’re getting married tonight?” What about dress, flowers, invitations? Where was it happening? She hadn’t had time to plan it, not any of it. Even an elopement required that she book a wedding officiant, apply for a marriage license and choose the pseudo-altar. “You can’t just decide to get married. You have to plan and organize.” And she should know.

  “Which is why I started planning last month.”

  “Last month?” Who was this man and what had he done with Owen?

  He nodded, looking mighty pleased with himself and awfully handsome. He reminded her of a little boy proudly showing off his schoolwork. Or arts-and-crafts Christmas ornaments. But still. She gestured to her business suit, now r
umpled and more than half off. “I can’t wear this.”

  “Give me some credit.” But he didn’t look upset, more amused. “There are dresses at the venue. And before you panic, Mal took Hayley with her to pick them out.”

  Hayley was in on this? And she hadn’t said a word, or even given a hint. She had to credit her young employee for her ability to keep things quiet. Was she the only one unaware that her wedding was being planned right under her nose?

  “But you had some say. You picked the flowers.” He grinned when she frowned at him, having no recollection of doing any such thing. “Hayley said you have a favorite that you always try to steer brides toward, but they never choose it. Some sort of waterfall thing? She promised she’d take care of it.”

  Grace swallowed, both touched and surprised that Hayley had noticed and remembered her favorite bouquet—simple white peonies bundled together with glossy white ribbon and a cascade of small trumpet-shaped white flowers that reached almost to the floor. It seemed she was an even better employee than Grace had realized. “Did she?”

  “Hayley was a big help once I convinced her that I was serious. Mal helped with that, and between the two of us, along with some family input, I think we did okay.” He reached out to cup her face. “But if there’s anything you don’t like or you want to change, we’ll just call tonight an engagement party and hold our wedding later.”

  She hadn’t seen what he’d done, she had no clue about what was awaiting her, but when she opened her mouth to tell him, all that came out was, “It sounds perfect.” Because at the end of the day she’d be married to Owen Ford.

  And that was all that mattered.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  OWEN STOOD AT the front of the altar, set up on Cedar Sparrow Farm in front of the small pond with the sun just beginning to set. He felt keyed up, but it was anticipation and excitement for the life he was about to start rather than anxiety.

  He’d decided against having his brother or anyone stand up with him, though he had asked Donovan to be a witness. Because this moment was about him and Grace and it felt right not to have a traditional bridal party. Nothing else was particularly traditional about the wedding, so he saw no reason for the ceremony to be any different.

  Mal and Julia were in the main house with Grace and her parents. The other guests were seated in the simple white chairs set up on the field. His family, her brother and his girlfriend, some of the neighbors who’d watched Grace grow up, her staff and some of his. It wasn’t large, not even thirty people in attendance, but it was just right.

  Donovan had held the big wedding, the one that invited all the family’s business interests and acquaintances they’d collected over the years. And that had been right, too. Donovan was guiding the company, the one people would look to both now and in future. While Owen was happy to take on a slightly smaller role, one that was more hands-on.

  It suited him, like the more intimate wedding suited him. And everyone he wanted here was here. His eyes landed on Travis, who looked uncomfortable in his suit, or with the prospect of seeing Mal. Maybe both.

  Owen was distracted from his thoughts and whether he should give Travis an assist in talking to Mal when the musician, a local guitar player Grace’s parents had recommended, changed from his low-key strum to a rhythmic pluck. Owen’s heart began to race even before he saw Julia and then Mal appear.

  They both looked beautiful in their strapless, knee-length white dresses. So did Sparrow, in a flowing white dress that ended midcalf and had crocheted stripes. It was completely Sparrow as was Cedar’s white suit, which Sparrow had proudly announced was made from hemp and hand-sewn by a woman who lived on the other side of the island.

  Owen had worried about having an all-white wedding. A little too nontraditional, not enough focus on the bride, but then he saw Grace’s face, the awe, the wonder, the love shining through, and he knew he’d been right to trust Hayley.

  Even surrounded by a sea of white, she stood out. Her pale blond hair down, smooth and sleek like a film star from the forties, and her luscious body hugged by a sheath dress. He wanted to peel her out of it now. Even with her parents standing on either side of her, walking her down the white runner they’d laid to where he and the officiant waited.

  He wanted to run toward her in his new, specially purchased white kicks. He’d been worried that he might look too Elvis or too Bieber, but Hayley had assured him he would look great and she’d been right. She’d been right about everything, if the look on Grace’s face was anything to go by. And then she was beside him, a secret smile playing over her lips, and the officiant was calling everyone to attention to begin the ceremony.

  It passed in a blur. Owen knew he did the right things because no one had to nudge him along or ask him to repeat himself, but he didn’t really absorb any of it. All he thought about was Grace and getting her out of that dress later to show her just how much he loved her.

  They moved to the backyard of the main house after the ceremony, Grace and Owen holding hands the whole way. Hayley had been busy back here, too, dressing the place up while still maintaining the simple pleasures Owen recalled from his previous visit. He pulled Grace toward one of the amazing wooden chairs and took a seat, tugging her down on his lap. “Have I told you how excited I am to see what you’re wearing under that dress?”

  She looped her arms around his neck, a casual and familiar gesture, and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Who says I’m wearing anything?”

  “Not even married an hour and you’re already punishing me in unusual and cruel ways.” He grinned when she laughed and grinned harder when she promised she’d make it up to him later.

  Their intimate crowd mingled, drinking champagne and wine, beer and soft drinks, and enjoying a mix of food. Canapés and hors d’oeuvres conceived and prepared by Julia and a few of her staff, and down-home, rustic bites from Grace’s family and neighbors. Homemade jams spread on crackers made with locally milled flour and topped with cured meats.

  Owen sipped his water and watched as Grace moved through the crowd. Her pale hair glowed in the starlit night, as did her eyes when she looked at him.

  “Get a room.” Travis slapped him on the shoulder and dropped into the wood seat beside him.

  “I intend to. Just as soon as it’s not considered rude to leave.”

  “Look at you all well-mannered and responsible.” Travis sipped from a bottle of water, too. “I almost don’t recognize you.”

  “That’s because you’re not looking at me.” Owen shot a pointed look in the direction Travis was looking, at his sister. “Have you talked to her?”

  Travis ducked his head. “No.” He didn’t give further explanation.

  Owen waited a moment. “So you’re just going to sit there and study her from afar?” Because he knew Mal and she wasn’t going to approach Travis unless she had to. Travis shrugged. “Fine.” Owen pushed himself up. “And once this is over, you remember you owe me.”

  “Owe you?”

  But Owen was already halfway across the patio and less than twenty seconds later, on his way back with his sister in tow. “Owen.” She stumbled over a root. “What are you doing? I was talking to those people.”

  “It’s my wedding. I’m allowed to steal you away.” But he slowed slightly and navigated a little more carefully until he halted in front of the wooden chairs.

  He heard Mal’s sharp intake of breath, felt her nails bite into his arm and saw the hungry look in Travis’s eyes. “I’d like to see the two of you talk.” He gave Mal a small nudge when she tried to take a step back. “You do whatever you want after, but talk now. Consider it my wedding gift.”

  “I already bought you something,” Mal said.

  “I’d rather have this. For both of you.” He saw the bob of his sister’s throat, the way Travis’s hand reached up to loosen his collar, and knew
he was right. They might not make up. They might not even make nice. But they both needed this for closure. Satisfied, he turned on his heel.

  “Where are you going?” Mal called after him.

  “I’ve got a date. With my wife.” And he used the line again to pull Grace away from the small crowd of well-wishers gathered around her and lead her around the side of the house.

  She clung to him, her scent and body surrounding him. “Where are we going?”

  “Sex house?”

  She laughed and stopped him with a light touch on his shoulder and a brief kiss on his neck. “With all these guests to entertain? What if they followed us?”

  “They wouldn’t.” He skimmed a hand down her side. Her dress was a cool, silky material.

  “Have you met my mother? She would. And very possibly give us a lecture on safe sex.” She sighed in his ear and Owen’s body responded.

  “We’re married now.” He brushed her hair off her neck for better access.

  “Then she’d give us a lecture on prenatal care.”

  “Okay, no lectures of any sort. They ruin the mood.” But he skimmed his hand down her side again, which fixed it. Or maybe that was just Grace. “Thank you.”

  She leaned back to look at him. “For what?”

  He smiled. Believing in him, expecting more of him, challenging him. “Everything.” He kissed her and then allowed her to lead him back to the reception. “Sex house later?”

  She glanced back over her shoulder, a sweet, sexy glance that made him want to scoop her up and take her there now. “I don’t know. You might have to convince me.”

  He stopped and since she was holding on to him, she stopped, too. Then he turned them so her back was against the house and bracketed her body with his. He saw her chest rise and fall more quickly as her breathing increased. His increased, too, watching her body stretch and strain against the thin material. He licked the length of her neck, the way he knew she liked. Drawing out the movement and then blowing, warm then cool. Her breathing was raspy when he finished. “Like that?”