“Because it doesn’t matter. I like what it represents; the past and you’re my future.” He reached his hand around the door but kept his face back to keep Mags from stabbing him with her stiletto. Her fingers intertwined with his, and he couldn’t fight the smile that stretched his mouth. “I’m so ready to marry you.”
“I’m ready to marry you.” Kat giggled.
“Then go on.” Mags shooed them.
“See you soon, Doc.” He let go and headed down the hallway that ran the length of the ballroom.
The guys followed. Midway down the hall, a side door opened so quickly he couldn’t duck. The thick wood smacked into his shoulder and sent him crashing to the ground. He was up and ready for the attack in seconds.
A red-faced and cutely pregnant Piper Noble gasped in the doorway. “Ay! Dios!” The Base Branch operative shook her hand as though it hurt, but Hunter soon realized it was one of her expressive gestures. “I’m so sorry. It took us forever to find the bathroom, and I was worried we’d miss the ceremony.”
“There won’t be one if we take out the groom.” Her husband, Ryan Noble, held her close and smoothed a reassuring hand down her bare shoulder.
“Hush now. He’s tough. I’m sure he’s fine,” Piper chided. Her gaze found his. “Are you okay?”
“You’re just making sure I don’t lose my edge,” Hunter assured.
“Like any of you could.” She grabbed her husband’s tie and pulled him through the doorway and across the hall to the ballroom’s side entrance.
“What exactly were y’all doing in the bathroom?” Tyler readjusted the cowboy hat he’d shined up especially for the occasion.
“Not your business, Tyler Grace.” Ryan ushered his wife inside and headed for their seat.
When Hunter and his two groomsmen stepped into the room, all eyes followed them to the front of the room to Law, who’d agreed to officiate the ceremony.
“Ready for this?” Law asked.
“More than.” Hunter shook his hand, hugged his best men, and then turned toward the back of the room.
Several minutes later, the music started. The back doors opened, and no eyes were on him any longer. They watched a sweet and sunshiny Magdalena walk regally down the aisle. “She’s got them all fooled,” Hunter whispered to her husband.
“Not the ones who matter.” Law chuckled and waved to his baby who was in the first row in Sloan’s arms and oblivious to his fatherly attempts at communication.
Next, Trish Austen preceded her daughter, walked to the front, and stood as her matron of honor with the biggest smile on her face he’d ever seen…until the doors opened wide.
Kat and a slimmer Patrick Austen beamed so hard their smiles alone might light the place. The two walked arm in arm up the aisle.
His wife to be rocked his world yet again. She wore a sheer cream-colored gown that hugged her to the hips and then cascaded down in wavy layers. The delicate embroidery on the top added the perfect touch, accentuating her femininity along with her loose flowing locks. He couldn’t wait to touch her.
When Pat kissed his daughter’s cheek, tears glittered in his eyes. He turned and offered Hunter his hand. He took it. The man squeezed harder than he remembered. “I wouldn’t trust my daughter to anyone except you, Hunter. May you love each other as completely as Trish and I do.”
“Thank you, sir. I know we do.” Hunter took his soon-to-be wife’s hand, kissed it, and took just a moment to stare in wonder at the beauty about to promise to love and cherish him forever. “I’m one lucky bastard.”
“You’re my lucky bastard.” Kat kissed his hand.
Together, they turned toward Law who welcomed their dearest friends and family, defined love and marriage per Kat’s dictionary obsession, and then got to the goods. “Are you ready to state your vows in front of your chosen witnesses?”
“We are,” they agreed.
“I, Hunter Masters, choose you, Katherine Austen, to be my wife. I promise to trust and respect you, to honor and adore you, to lean on you in times of sorrow, and lift you up when you need my strength. I love you always.”
Trish sniffled.
Kat beamed. She squished his hands in hers. “I, Katherine Austen, take you, Hunter Masters, to be my husband. I promise to trust and respect you, to honor and adore you, to lean on you in times of sorrow, and lift you up when you need my strength. I love you always.”
“The rings.” Law signaled to Oliver and Trish.
He and Kat grabbed them and turned to each other. Kat’s feet danced under her long lace gown. It forced a laugh from his throat that wasn’t accustomed at the wedding, but then again, he wasn’t accustomed at weddings. When she joined in, nothing mattered except them.
Hunter took her hand in his and eased on the double X banded rose gold ring with its hexagonal framed slice of translucent moonstone. “This ring is a symbol of my heart.”
Kat smiled, but a well of tears formed in her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you, Doc.”
She took his hand and slid on the thick gray tungsten carbide band with its sliver of rose gold curved through the center. “This ring is a symbol of my heart.”
“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I pronounce you husband and wife.” Law looked at Kat and jutted his chin Hunter’s way. “Kat, you may kiss your husband but remember small children and your parents are watching.”
“Which means you’d better kiss him good,” Trish whispered.
Kat handed back her bouquet and rubbed her hands together.
“Looks like I’m in for a wild ride.” Hunter laughed.
“Looks like we both are.” Kat grabbed him by both lapels and gave him a hint of their wonderful life to come.
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Excerpt from For All to See
A Bureau Novel
Chapter 1
Madelyn heaved the sturdy door to Paradise Bar. The sun-bleached wood worked double-time as a drunk-o-meter. Those only a little tipsy added a Herculean flare to their efforts, grunting and shoving the door into submission. Pass the line into too-intoxicated-to-drive and their wrestle with the door typically ended with a face-plant in the gravel parking lot. The real lushes usually gave up after a few tries and passed out under a nearby table.
Success greeted her as the tinny beat of a scratch band on center stage and the spice of a sizzling mango salmon filet. A waiter held the bubbling dish high in the air along with several peach-colored slushy drinks that frosted the glass mugs. Her mouth watered while her shoulders relaxed into the easy rhythm of the island. In front of her three bartenders manned the square mahogany bar with its faux thatched roof, working their smiles, skills, and tropical shirts.
“Maddy!” The feminine voice cut through the crowd and the music. Not a wonder. On a daily basis the woman’s pipes trenched the boisterous noise only elementary school-aged kids could maintain for hours on end.
She turned away from the band and dance floor to the left and skirted through the sea of tables toward her best friend—second best friend, since Deacon slept in her bed at least two nights out of any given week. Nichole held up a half-syphoned coconut mango-rita in one hand and hurried her over with frantic flaps of the other.
“You’re a half a drink behind. Sit and sip.” Nichole sat forward and gestured at the untouched beverage complete with a salt halo and cherry on top.
Madelyn shrugged her purse, hung it on the back of her chair, and leaned across the table. Their lips met in a smacking kiss. “Please, tell me that’s your first.”
“It is, but it won’t be my last.” Nichole held up a hand. “Not another word until you down it.”
Before she finished the last sip the waitress presented another round. Good thing it was hotter than hell outside. Otherwise, the frosty drink would have chilled her brain.
“We still have to get through tomor
row,” Madelyn reminded.
“I’m testing in almost every subject. And a dab of concealer will cover up the dark circles.”
“Pfh, you haven’t ever had dark circles under your eyes.” Madelyn scoffed.
Open mouth. Insert foot.
The sole of her sandal tasted bitter. On a blink the memory of Nichole bloody and bruised stained the back of her lids. Her friend had indeed had a black circle under one eye. An eye that had been swollen shut.
Nichole’s gaze hit the floor. Her long lashes nearly caressed her cheeks.
“Hey, I’m sorry.” Madelyn groaned.
Inky, arrow-straight hair slipped off Nichole’s shoulder and curtained a high cheek bone. The waist-long mane grabbed the light, reflecting an ebony gleam. Madelyn reached across the table and covered her friend’s hand with her own. Her sun-kissed skin literally paled in comparison to Nichole’s toasted almond complexion.
“Hey, are things okay…at home?” She hated to ask, but she refused to shy away from the important things just to soothe her friend’s feelings.
Nichole’s amber gaze lifted and a wide smile spread across her face. Though, tension remained in the crease of her brow. “Things between Jim and I have been really great.”
“Then why the look?”
“Because…” Nichole gnawed her lower lip. “You’ll never forget that night.”
“You’re damn right I won’t. And you shouldn’t either.” Madelyn squeezed the cold hand beneath hers.
“It was one time. I’ll never forget. Of course I won’t. But I chose to stay. I chose to believe in him. And I won’t drive a wedge between us by holding on to the past, to a mistake he knows he made. Things are so good between us. He’s not drinking like he used to. He hasn’t missed a day of work this season.”
Madelyn bit her tongue so hard she expected the tang of copper to fill her mouth. The peak season for mahi-mahi had just begun. And she knew by the end of last season, Jim had missed more hours of work than the impressive number of fish he’d caught in the first half of the harvest.
“I have this look because,” Nichole lowered her voice to a whisper, “no matter what I say you’ll only see the bad in him. And that sucks because Jim and I have real love, Maddy. It’s messy sometimes and our disagreements are heated, but our passion is stronger.”
Madelyn released Nichole’s hand and grabbed the frosted glass. She pulled a long drink of the fresh glass of bitter-sweet nectar, needing fortification for this conversation.
“When he holds my hand my heart races. When he kisses me it steals my breath.”
“I feel the same way before I ride a roller coaster.” Madelyn’s words sounded as sharp in her ear as the salt tasted on her tongue, but she couldn’t stop them. “And it usually ends with me puking. It’s called fear.”
Nichole’s palms flew up as if she were calling on the Lord or summoning his angels to deal with her. “Oh, you’re an expert on fear. You use it like a force field to push people away. You keep everyone at a distance. Even me.”
Wow. Truth packed a punch. Madelyn folded her arms around her middle to ease the pain of the blow.
Nichole splayed her hands on the lacquer table and leaned forward. Her lips thinned and her eyes softened. “I understand you’ve been hurt, Maddie. But you shouldn’t give up on people because one wronged you. I refuse to give up on Jim because he made a mistake. Just like I won’t give up on you.”
“You always see the good in things. And people. I can’t decide whether it’s your gift or curse.”
“We’re human. Fallible. Completely imperfect. But the beauty of that is we can learn from our mistakes. We can change and grow, if someone loves us enough to put in the effort. To show us we’re not a lost cause.”
Madelyn gave a weak smile and then pulled her gaze from Nichole’s intense stare. She longed to be a lost cause, had moved to the middle of nowhere to be one. Darn her gorgeous, glass-half-full friend. Madelyn’s gaze danced across the far wall of glass that opened to the deck. Strands of bare bulbs illuminated the exterior. Beyond it the forest of lounge umbrellas stabbed into the sand and the last whips of color drained from the sky.
Paradise Bar and Grill hopped with locals from lunch through breakfast every day of the week, but tonight it boasted its fair share of tourists. A group of college kids, their Greek letter emblazoned like a Superman symbol on their T-shirts, lined the exterior bar mirroring the row of shots in front of them. She only had a handful of years on some of the collegiates, but their inhibitions subtracted time from their worldly ages.
Two of the students showed more interest in choking each other with their tongues than drinking. The guy’s wide hand plowed into the woman’s dark corkscrew curls. The coed’s greedy hands roved the man’s lean pecs, and then slipped south toward his crotch.
Madelyn’s gaze leaped back inside. Her cheeks flamed. Not yet ready to deal with her friend, she thought to study the band, but the headline on the flatscreen caught her attention. Inman Trial Begins on Anniversary of Field-Dresser Killings.
She nodded to the television. “You have to admit, some people are lost causes.”
Herself included.
Four pictures filled the screen. Each candid shot displayed a brunette beauty with a bright smile.
“You’re not a lost cause,” Nichole admonished while turning. Her breath caught. The tip of her pointed nose scrunched. A sneer curled her upper lip. “Why don’t they just slit his wrists, toss him overboard, and let those girls’ families watch the sharks tear him apart?”
“Brutal.”
“No, that monster is brutal.”
Madelyn blinked wide eyes and struggled to lift her jaw from the floor. “I’ve never heard you talk like that.”
“I don’t know how in the world a person could kill another, much less…” Nichole’s strong jaw jerked from the report and her gaze flew heavenward. “Much less do what he did to those poor women.”
And yet she defended Jim.
Love. What a damn fool thing.
“So,” Madelyn cleared her throat. “You admit not all people can be saved?”
“Of course.” Nichole’s honey gaze prodded Madelyn’s. “But you and Jim can. Despite your sketchy track records. I know you can.” Nichole grabbed her own drink and pushed the orange concoction toward Madelyn. “Now pick it up. We’re here to have a good time.”
She didn’t know which was more likely to give first—Jim’s drinking or her pledge to steer clear of men for the rest of her life. Her poor friend had her work cut out for her.
“To what are we toasting?” Madelyn asked.
A smile gradually stretched Nichole’s mouth. Her eyes skittered this way and rolled that, and then settled. “Okay.”
Madelyn lifted her glass.
“To the future. To living one little step at a time.”
“I can handle that.”
Their glasses clinked.
“Can you?” Nichole shimmied in her seat. “Because I was thinking Harvey Thompson would look so dashing on your arm.”
Madelyn cupped her mouth to keep the chilled liquor from spewing across the table. She swallowed and choked a laugh. “Yeah, right.”
“What could you possibly find wrong with him?” Nichole fanned herself. “He’s hot.”
“Yeah, in that been-around-the-island, knows-every-woman-intimately kind of way.”
“Just think how great he’d be in bed.” Nichole waggled her brows.
“Wish I could, but I’m too busy thinking about how quickly he could screw me over to think about how well he’d just plain screw me. Besides, the first time I met him didn’t go so well.”
Nichole’s whooping laugh drew several glances. “I almost forgot about that. Tell me again.”
“No. You laughed at me for a week after. It’s all your fault anyway.”
Her friend steeled her face. “I’ve matured since then.”
“It was three months ago.” Nichole drained the last of her ’rita and
flagged the waitress for another round. “It’s not like you threw the drink in his face.”
“No. But I threw it in his fancy restaurant.” She tipped the last of her drink down her throat and winced at the sharp pain gathering behind her eyes.
“I can’t believe you chunked your wine in Evan Whitman’s face,” Nichole howled.
Her fingers pressed against her forehead.
“Brain freeze?”
She grunted and rubbed her tongue onto the roof of her mouth. When the stabbing ceased, she eyed Nichole. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into going out with him. What a pompous ass.”
“He’s the most eligible bachelor in all the Virgin Islands.”
“And I’m sure some bimbo with more fashion than common sense would be happy to land him.”
“He just wanted to get you naked,” Nichole shrugged. “I don’t know a man in this place who wouldn’t want to do the same.”
“Wanting to get my clothes off is one thing. Lack of tact is another. Telling me I’m a prude because I refused to go back to his yacht before we’d even finished appetizers earned him a thousand drinks in the face, if you ask me.”
“Sad thing is…” Nichole clutched her side and panted between giggles. “That wasn’t the worst date you’ve let me talk you into.”
Yep, Tommy Templeton had been the grandest of dating disasters.
Whether it was the liquor warming her from the inside or her friend’s gleeful expression at her failed matchmaking, Madelyn cracked a smile. Then the bottom dropped out. They hooted and howled in a free-for-all of delight.
“It was so bad,” Madelyn cackled.
She shouldn’t laugh at Nichole’s attempts to set her up. The last thing on earth she wanted was another man. In the bedroom B.O.B. worked just fine. Out of the bedroom, Deacon and Nichole filled her need for companionship.
That Nichole tried so tenaciously showed her friend’s love. Post-date reports also provided hours of entertainment and an abdominal workout. Madelyn clutched her side. “Stop. You have to stop. You’re making my guts hurt.”
Tears slipped from Nichole’s eyes and ran down her rose-hued cheeks.
Captor Mine (Base Branch Series Book 13) Page 22