A Wedding in Apple Grove

by C. H. Admirand

  Miss Trudi patted Meg on the hand. “Now, dear, you know they love stories of derring-do.”

  Mrs. Winter nodded in agreement. “Dan’s rescue is such a dashing tale.”

  Meg nodded. “It is. Too bad about the other night—”

  “What night?” Miss Trudi asked.

  Meg felt her cheeks growing warm as she tried to backpedal and keep from confessing that she was turned inside out with frustration not knowing who Dan had been cooking for the other night.

  “Don’t just sit there like you swallowed a mouthful of castor oil,” Mrs. Winter said. “Tell us.”

  Meg looked at Honey B., who was smiling like the cat that ate the canary. She sighed and gave in. “Dan was cooking a special meal for someone the other night. Whatever he’d put in the oven smelled delicious,” she admitted, “but it was the single red rose he’d laid across the plate that’s been keeping me up nights.”

  Miss Trudi and Mrs. Winter shared a knowing look. Meg didn’t want to know what that might mean—well, she did, but she wouldn’t admit it. Honey B. distracted her again when she tapped her arm a second time. Meg looked over in time to watch the McCormack sisters, Cindy Harrington, and Beatrice Wallace working their way through the growing crowd.

  “I happen to know who Dan invited over that night.” Mrs. Winter was waiting for Meg to turn back around. “Would you like to know who it was?”

  Meg shuddered. She wanted to know but hesitated to ask. What if her suspicions were correct and it was one of the McCormack sisters? Then her initial feelings for Dan would be crushed out like a smoldering cigarette that someone had finished with and then discarded. “I guess if it was any of my business, which it isn’t, Dan would have mentioned it.”

  “When?” Honey B. asked. “You’re always working. When you’re not working, you’re ordering and restocking the supply room at Mulcahy’s.”

  “That leaves just enough time for getting a good night’s sleep.” Miss Trudi was watching her intently, so Meg nodded, agreeing with the woman.

  “You’re too young to spend your nights sleeping,” Mrs. Winter said.

  “But I—”

  “I’ve got a fresh-baked cherry pie sitting on my counter that says you’re too busy to walk over there and ask Dan Eagan out to dinner.”

  Meg practically salivated at the thought of another cherry pie with her name on it. “Now why would I want to do that?”

  Miss Trudi leaned forward and whispered, “It’s called a date, dear. It’s been so long, you might not remember what it’s like.”

  Meg bit her tongue to keep the caustic reply to herself, while Honey B. started to laugh.

  “Not so fast, missy,” Mrs. Winter cautioned Honey B., leaning in close. “We have some work to do tonight. I want to put your profile up on at least three dating sites tonight. Melanie said that she’d let me in after hours, so no one else knows what we’re doing.”

  Meg was grateful that she was no longer the center of attention. She wanted to tease her friend but didn’t want the older ladies to start harping on her again. Besides, it gave her a chance to see if the crowd had shifted and she could see Dan. If she were sixteen again, she’d have to admit to having a crush on him. But she wasn’t—she was pushing thirty and women her age didn’t develop crushes; they had affairs with men who interested them. At least that’s what she’d been told. She’d spent too much of her late teens and most of her twenties burying herself in her work and had missed out on that particular part of life. Was it too late to catch up and start living it to the fullest, starting with a certain broad-shouldered hunk who was a bona fide chick magnet?

  Maybe that was why she had been so tempted when Dan had caught her in his arms. Meg noticed that Dan was still surrounded by well-wishers congratulating him on his heroic feat.

  “Meg!”

  “Hmmm? What?” She turned around and a strand of hair got caught on her eyelashes. She tucked it behind her ear and wondered why she listened to Honey B. She liked her hair in a ponytail—it stayed put. She rarely wore it down.

  Three faces were staring at her and she knew right away that something was up. “Are you plotting against me?”

  Miss Trudi shook her head. “We’re plotting for you, Megan dear.”

  That took the wind out of Meg’s sails. “I guess I’d better hear it now instead of tomorrow when I’m trying to wrestle Mr. Ainsley’s ancient plumbing into submission.”

  Her friends smiled. “Well then,” Mrs. Winter said. “As I said, I have that cherry pie just waiting for someone brave enough to walk on over to that crowd and push her way through to save Dan.”

  “From what I’ve heard, he’s a hero,” Meg insisted. “What would I be saving him from?”

  “He really doesn’t like crowds,” Miss Trudi said quietly.

  Meg processed that particular tidbit that Miss Trudi provided and knew then that she was hooked. For all of his size and obvious strength, Dan Eagan had a human weakness after all. Her gaze met Miss Trudi’s and she gave in. “All right, I’ll do it, but you ladies don’t fight fair using my weakness for pie against me.”

  They were giddy with excitement by the time Meg pushed to her feet and brushed her damp hands on her thighs. With a glance over her shoulder, she received the encouragement she needed when the group gave her the thumbs up.

  Digging deep for the strength to not just turn and walk out the door, Meg walked over to the group surrounding Dan and tapped the first of a dozen men on their shoulders.

  Before she could get to the middle of the crowd a wolf whistle sounded nearby. Meg huffed, crossed her arms, and looked around for the source.

  “I haven’t seen you in tight-fitting jeans since we were in high school.”

  She glared at the man brave enough to bring that up—Jimmy’s cousin Clint. “That’s because it’s hard to get beneath a sink wearing clothes like this.”

  “I’d forgotten just how pretty you are.”

  She felt her face go hot at Clint’s comment. The last thing she needed was a reminder of her past. She shook her head. “Well, tomorrow when I get to the third job on my list, you won’t even recognize me,” she promised. “I’ll be invisible again.” Clint shook his head as if he didn’t believe it.

  “What’s up, Meg?” Peggy asked, sliding through the mass of people to stand beside her.

  She was about to answer when Katie joined her sister, saying, “You look great, Meg.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dan had that deer-in-the-headlights look on his face as people moved closer to shake his hand and congratulate him. There were folks she hadn’t seen in a while gathering around the reason they made a special trip to town. Meg realized his aunt had been right. He was uncomfortable and did need saving. “Miss Trudi wanted to ask you something if you have a minute, Dan.”

  His look of gratitude warmed her.

  Dan glanced at the crowd and said, “I’ve… uh… got to go. My aunt needs me.”

  Meg’s heart picked up the beat when Dan placed a protective hand to the small of her back and leaned close. “You are a lifesaver,” he whispered. “I’m not used to being the center of attention like that.”

  Mrs. Winter and Miss Trudi were smiling up at them when the returned. Miss Trudi said, “Daniel, do you still think you’ll be able to help out Saturday morning?”

  He pulled out a chair for Meg. When she sat, he walked over to stand by his aunt. “With everything that happened today, I forgot that I was going to ask Doyle and Hawkins to help. Maybe a few other team members would be interested in helping.”

  “How about if I promise fresh cinnamon rolls and coffee for when we’re finished?”

  “That sounds great. I’ll ask tomorrow at practice.”

  “Wonderful,” Miss Trudi said, patting him on the hand he’d rested on the back of Meg�
��s chair. “Oh, by the way, did I thank you for that wonderful meal you cooked for me the other night?” She turned toward Meg and said, “The night your power went out.”

  Meg felt as if she’d had the wind knocked out of her. She couldn’t draw in a breath or let one go. He’d prepared that wonderful meal for his aunt? When she messed up, she messed up big time.

  As if sensing her dilemma, Honey B. leaned close and whispered, “Just breathe.” Her friend slowly stroked a hand up and down Meg’s spine to help her relax. When she had her breathing under control, she glanced over at Dan and his aunt and knew she owed the man an apology.

  A quick look at Miss Trudi confirmed that the crafty old woman knew all about Meg’s hint of jealousy where her grandnephew was concerned. She wondered if she were that transparent and that everyone knew what she was thinking. Mrs. Winter took her hand and squeezed it. “Isn’t that sweet? Instead of unpacking boxes, he was making dinner for his aunt.”

  “Yes,” Meg answered. “It is.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I, uh… thought—”

  His solemn look bothered her, but she couldn’t apologize with an audience. “You thought…” he prompted.

  Damn. She owed him that apology now. “I’m sorry, Dan,” she blurted out. “I thought your emergency that night was that you had a hot date and it ticked me off that I was tired and wanted to go home to relax but had to drive to your place to fix whatever the problem was so you could make dinner for Peggy.”

  The look on his face was priceless. “But I told you it was for my aunt.”

  She felt like a fool but worse, acted like one. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Now, Daniel,” his aunt interrupted, snagging his attention. “Why don’t you drive Meg home. Honey B. is driving Amelia Winter and me over to meet with Melanie, and Meg looks dead on her feet.”

  Meg knew a plot when she heard one. “No thanks. I can walk.” He hadn’t accepted her apology, and it had scraped her guts raw just getting up the courage to say she was sorry only to find out she’d wasted energy being angry for no reason. She had to leave now before her Irish was up. If her temper bubbled any closer to the surface, the lid was bound to blow off.

  She made it outside and breathed a sigh of relief. It was a nice night, warm for October. The walk to her apartment might just help her clear her mind. Five minutes down the road, she realized just how dark it was with the moon hiding behind the clouds. “Should have noticed that before you let your temper do the talking.”

  The sound of an engine coming closer had her focusing on the road ahead; the last thing she needed to do was stumble and fall into the path of a car. Careful not to misstep, she didn’t notice that the car had slowed down until she heard her name being called. “Let me drive you home, Meg.”

  Dan. It figured. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  “It’s pitch black out here—I can’t let you walk home. If you don’t trip and break your neck, some car won’t see you until it’s too late and you’re roadkill.”

  She had to stop because she was laughing so hard. “Roadkill? You really know the way to get a woman’s attention.”

  He’d parked the car and was walking toward her. “Got yours,” he said, reaching for her hand. “Come on, Meg.” He sounded tired. “I really don’t need any more guilt piled on top of the shit storm my day turned out to be.”

  Wondering if this was the real Dan talking to her now or the stressed-out Dan who’d saved two of his student’s from being run over by a freight train, nearly causing one of them to drown in the process, she decided she wanted to find out and took his hand. “It sounds like you need a friend to talk to.”

  He squeezed her hand, but didn’t let go until he opened the passenger door for her. “I can’t decide if I’m the cause of their brush with disaster or their savior.”

  The turmoil inside of Dan called to her. She could almost feel the knots tightening around him. “I’m not trying to come on to you, Dan, but I could brew a pot of coffee or make you a cup of tea if you want to talk—as friends.”

  He nodded and shut her door. When he was in the driver’s seat, she gave him directions to her new apartment. “It’s kind of empty right now, but I’m saving up to buy a small sofa.”

  His deep chuckle eased the knots forming at the base of her neck. “Sounds like my house,” he admitted. “I’m hoping to be able to buy a sleeper sofa by Thanksgiving.” Dan pulled into the long driveway and parked in front of the garage. “Don’t you have a car?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t needed one. I drive my dad’s truck during the day.” Her eyes met his. “I don’t go out at night.”

  “So tonight’s special?” he asked, reaching to tuck a strand of auburn behind her ear.

  His touch had her skin tingling. Meg had to clear her throat to speak. “Yes. It’s not every day that someone rescues two teenagers from disaster.”

  He shook his head. “I’m still not sure about that.”

  She wanted to tell him how proud of him she was, that she’d have been scared spit-less if she had been in his shoes. But what she wanted to say was getting tangled up with what she needed—to be touched by him, kissed by him—and that was a problem because she’d already promised that she’d invited him up as a friend.

  His fingertip traced the line of her jaw and tapped against her bottom lip. “You look different with your hair down… softer.”

  Her mouth went dry at his touch. “Maybe I wouldn’t be much help tonight.” The reality of him being so close in the dark had her belly fluttering and parts of her anticipating what she had no business even thinking about!

  “So you’re not going to make me a cup of tea?”

  He sounded so forlorn that, against her better judgment, she caved. “Well, maybe one cup.” She got out of the car and warned him, “But that’s all—just a cup of tea and some friendly conversation. Deal?”

  He got out of the car and walked to where she stood. “Meg,” he rasped. “Is that all you want from me?”

  Her heart skidded to a stop as his arms banded around her. When their lips were a breath apart, he brushed his lightly across hers. “Tell me I’m reading you wrong and that you don’t want me to kiss you again.”

  She melted against him. “I can’t.”

  He captured her lips in a tongue-tangling, heart-pumping kiss. Meg got caught up in the rapture of his mouth molded to hers and distracted by the strength of his hands as he slowly traced the line of her spine from the back of her neck to the top of her backside.

  He paused for air and urged, “Ask me inside, Meg.”

  “My apartment?”

  He groaned. “That’ll do for starters.”

  She knew what he was asking, and at this moment, standing in the dark, locked in his arms, she knew she wanted more—she wanted it all. “Come upstairs with me, Dan.”

  Chapter 5

  Dan couldn’t seem to hang on to any thought save one: he wanted Meg—needed her more than his next breath. He’d been waging a silent battle with himself to take things at a slower pace. Fast and furious had only ended in disaster. But Meg had been on his mind and in his heart since the first moment he saw her walking on that fence. Today had pushed him to the limits of his endurance. He’d never been so scared in his life. He was trembling on the inside and using every ounce of strength not to let it show.

  He needed to channel the emotions rioting inside of him before they consumed him. Gathering Meg in his arms to soothe the ragged remains of what could have been a devastating disaster was all he could think to do. Where it led from there might just be the balm he needed to soothe the adrenaline beast inside of him.

  When she closed the door behind him, he crushed her against him and dug deep for honesty. “I’m not thirsty for tea.”

  Her groan nearly sent him to his knees; he’d been right. She wanted him too. Nuz
zling her neck, he gave in to desire and pressed his lips to the tendon beneath her ear, flicking the tip of his tongue across it, tasting the sweetness of her skin. “Do you taste this good all over, Meg?” Would she let him find out?

  “I, uh—”

  He was too impatient to let her finish. Lifting her up higher, he let his lips savor the salty sweetness of her collarbone and used his teeth to tug the neck of her shirt and bare her shoulder. He nipped it, then soothed it with his lips. “God, Meg. This isn’t me—I’m not like this.” His hands started shaking. “But I’ve been dreaming of making love with you since you fell off that fence and into my arms. I wanted to wait and take things at a slower pace.”

  “Don’t,” she rasped, moaning his name as he set her back on her feet and stripped her shirt up and over her head. Drawing her in close, he pressed his palms to the middle of her back so he could let his mouth and tongue sample the creamy, smooth skin he’d bared. He found the hook to her bra and flipped it open. Her breasts spilled into his hands and he knew then he wouldn’t be waiting to get to know her before he made love to her.

  “Tell me to stop now, Meg. I’m not strong enough to resist you tonight.”

  She stroked her hands up and over his shoulders and drew his head down to her breasts. “It’s been a long time for me, so don’t expect too much.”

  He clamped his jaw shut and breathed in through his nose. “Don’t expect too little.” Lifting her into his arms, he drew her breast into his mouth and suckled, drowning in the taste of her, reveling in the gift she was giving him—her sweetly curved body.

  He let his tongue torment her left breast until she was squirming against him, then he let go of it and sucked her other breast into his mouth. She had a delicate build but packed a lethal punch. “Tell me what you want, Meg. I need to give it to you.”

  She buried her head against his chest. “Equal time, Dan. I want to drive you over the edge.”

  His chuckle sounded rusty. Before she could ask, he started walking. “Where’s the nearest bed?”