by Melissa West
“Thirty minutes?”
A smile played on his lips, and Becca pointed at him. “This doesn’t mean a thing. I’m just curious.”
“Of course,” he said knowingly.
“I hate that you know me so well.”
Nick nodded, slower this time. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Not for that. Not for any of it, actually. You shouldn’t be sorry for how you feel just because I was hurt in the process.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but Becca threw up her hand. “I can’t do this. If we’re going, let’s go. But I don’t want to talk about this.”
Nick cleared his throat and took a step back. “Okay. No talking. I’ll drive.”
“Fine.”
They settled into Nick’s car, and Becca drew in the smell before she could order her nose to be good. Fresh linens and soap and just a hint of spicy cologne. It was so Nick, and instantly she remembered that smell overwhelming her as he hovered over her, his eyes on hers as they moved together.
God, what was she thinking agreeing to this? Her heart had just begun to cope and now she’d thrown it back into the fight, no warning and no hope of protecting it.
“Are you cold or too hot? Maybe too hot.” Nick hit the A/C and cold air blew into the small space. Becca shivered and he hit the Off button. “Sorry, you’re normally . . .”
“I know. And it’s fine.”
Their eyes met at a traffic light, and Becca felt her throat closing up, but then the light turned and they continued on to wherever they were going.
Nick tapped the steering wheel nervously as he drove, and Becca was wondering what all of this was about when she started recognizing things. The gas station on the last street, the CVS on the corner.
After another familiar turn, Becca sat up taller. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I know this street.”
Nick swallowed. “I know.”
Nick spotted his destination and pulled into the driveway, his heart beating so rapidly it might give out at any second, but he couldn’t freak out. Not now. He’d worked through all the things he’d say, all the small, sweet things he felt might convince Becca that he cared for her and only her. But as his gaze landed on hers, eyes wide in question at him, only one thing came out.
“I love you. I know I should have told you that a long time ago, but there it is. And I had this list of things I wanted to say to you, but now you’re looking at me, and you’re so damn beautiful, and you’re finally fulfilling your dream, and all I can think is ‘damn, I love her so much.’ I love you, Becca. And I’ve screwed up. A thousand times, probably, since I met you, but the biggest screwup of all was allowing you to walk away when what I should have done was beg you to stay. Ego aside, beg on my hands and knees. Because see, we’re going to have issues. We’re going to fight, and I’m going to be difficult sometimes and stupid even more often. But I want you, and only you. For the rest of my life.” He waved a hand at the house. “Here, if you’d like. Or even if not, even if you say no and tell me to leave. This is yours. And not because I’m trying to buy your love, though I would if I thought that would work, but because you’ve been my best friend for all my life and I love you. I want you to be happy ... even if it isn’t with me.”
Becca’s eyes turned glassy and she peered back at the white house, the picket fence, then again at Nick. “So, what you’re saying is that this ... you . . . you bought me the white house?” Tears brimmed in her eyes, one breaking free in a slow trail down her face.
Nick reached out and gently swiped the tear away. “I bought us a house. If you’ll have me. I know you think I’ll never love you like I loved Britt, but that’s where you’re wrong. I loved you long before I met Britt. And while I’ll always respect and remember her for the wonderful woman she was, Britt never had my heart. I gave it away the moment I met you. I realized that I was holding on to the past for fear that I would continue to experience the pain there, but that isn’t the way to live. And I’m ready to live now. With you. I signed over my share of Industries. I’ve fixed things with my brothers and now, if you’ll let me, I want to fix them with you. And maybe you’ll never forgive me, maybe—”
“Shut up.”
Nick pulled back. “Becca, please, I—”
Becca unbuckled her seat belt and climbed over the armrest until she was sitting in his lap. “You had me at ‘I love you,’” she said, changing up the line from Jerry Maguire, a movie they’d watched together a thousand times. And then she leaned in and Nick’s hands cradled her face, his mouth on hers, tears soaking their faces, but he didn’t care.
For once, he knew what he wanted out of his life and she was right in his arms.
Epilogue
The time was ticking by too slowly and Becca thought she might go crazy any second. For some reason, when she’d pictured this day, she’d envisioned it at the beach, overlooking the waves. But instead it had become “an affair to remember.” Or that was what the invite in the Tribune had said.
“Look who’s in love.”
Becca turned around in search of the familiar voice and grinned wide when she found Priscilla in Room 1, beaming despite the cast around her left arm. “What, did you get in a fight with Caroline over the mayor?” Becca joked.
Priscilla scoffed. “Like that would be a competition.”
“True enough.” Becca reached for Priscilla’s chart, read through the specifics, and then tsked at the patient. “Fell climbing a tree? What in the world were you doing in a tree? You’re in your sixties; you realize that, right?”
“Says my birth certificate, not my mind. And Curly Tom crawled up the tree. What was I supposed to do? Let my cat fall to his death?”
Becca thought better the cat than you but knew better than to say it. “Cats are built for that kind of climbing, and he would have survived the fall just fine. Haven’t you ever heard that cats land on their feet? Priscillas? Not so much. You could have called the fire department or that mayor you’re spending time with these days.”
Priscilla grinned again. “I let him know when I need him, don’t you worry.” Then she took in Becca’s name tag and the grin spread to take over her face. “I always knew you would do it, ya know?”
With Becca’s emotions already so high, she had to look away, blink back the tears that threatened to pour down. When had she become such a crier? She needed to fix that, stat, or else she was going to lose all respect in the ER. “I know you did. Thank you for that. For everything. But now, if you’re good, I need to head out. They tell me I have someplace to be.”
“Becca . . . what time is it?”
Becca shrugged innocently. “I don’t know, four?”
“You’re getting married in an hour. One hour. And you’re here working? Your mother would have your hide if she knew it. You’ve got makeup and hair and all that other mess to do. Pictures! Your photographer is probably beside himself.”
“Something tells me they’ll wait for me. I’m the bride, after all. Surely that means something, right?” She winked at Priscilla, but all joking aside, it was possible her mother was indeed freaking out and driving everyone else up the wall trying to figure out where Becca was and why she hadn’t made it to the church yet. And it wasn’t that Becca was trying to avoid getting married; she just wanted to avoid the whole giant wedding thing.
Who knew a town of so few could put together a wedding of so many? At last count there were supposed to be 500 people there, and that was 499 more than Becca cared about. All right, so maybe her parents. And her niece and nephew. But the rest? She could take them or leave them. The same with the fancy dress and crazy makeup and hair that she would never be able to brush out. The whole thing oozed a lifestyle that wasn’t her.
But then she thought of Nick again, of the proposal in Fiji after one of their dives, the assurance that he would love her forever. She wished she could have frozen the moment and lived in it forever, happiness surrounding her.
They should have gotten married there in Fiji, without all the hoopla of the event that was the Stark-Hamilton wedding. With the board of trustees involved and the invite in the paper, it had turned into a giant affair, and Becca had never been one to enjoy this much attention.
Sure she couldn’t avoid it any longer, Becca said good-bye to the rest of the staff and walked out of Triple Run Memorial, a new skip in her step. She had completed her degree, was officially a nurse, and was well on her way to finishing her physician’s assistant certification. Everything was wonderful in her life, happiness overflowing. Until she reached her Highlander and found her mother’s car parked beside it, said mother seething as she stepped outside the car and marched toward her.
“Now, Becca Reed Stark, I know you’re a mess of stubbornness, but this is too much. The whole town’s expecting you to show and you do this? What will Nick think? He must be beside himself.”
“Mama, I still have an hour.”
“Are you insane? Your wedding started . . .” She checked her watch. “Six minutes ago.”
“No, no, no. My watch clearly reads six after four, not five.”
With a loud and dramatic sigh, her mother grabbed her arm and directed her toward the car. “You didn’t set your watch after the time change last night, did you?”
Time change? “Oh my God. Oh my God! I’m late for my own wedding.”
Her mother waved through the air. “I think I already said that. I’ll text them that we’re on our way.”
“But there’s no time for the dress and makeup and I look crazy. I can’t get married in scrubs. Oh my God.”
“Deep breath, baby girl. We’ll get you there.”
And she wasn’t lying. They sped out of the hospital parking lot, ran two traffic lights, and Becca thought she might not survive this trip, let alone make it to the wedding. The tires screeched as her mother threw the car into park.
“Let’s go, let’s go.”
Becca jumped out of the car and raced toward the door of the church, ignoring the crowd around the doors, the whispers that once again a Stark had pulled a Stark.
The main doors to the congregation were open, and she peered down the aisle, planning to just glance at it, take in the decorations, but then her eyes found Nick, in his beautiful suit, looking like he’d stepped out of a magazine. His eyes lifted and a smile as big as the sun spread across his face.
“There you are,” he shouted. “Way to worry a man. Get on down here.”
Becca’s cheeks burned as all five hundred people in the congregation turned to look at her.
She held up a finger. “I’ll be right back. Five seconds. I need my dress and makeup and . . .” Her eyes found Nick’s again, and he started for her slowly, his gaze never leaving hers.
He reached out to her once they were face-to-face, his fingers threading through hers. “I don’t care about the dress or the makeup or any of the rest of that. I only care about you, and to me, this is you.”
“I’m in scrubs.”
Nick shrugged. “Details. I never much liked those giant dresses anyway.”
Becca laughed at the glare he would surely receive if her mother heard him say that. “I love you.” Becca reached up to kiss him, and he held her close.
“So much,” he said back. “Please marry me and put me out of my misery. Every second I wait to call you my wife is a second too long.”
A loud huff sounded from behind them, and Becca’s mother pushed her father at them. “She’s at least walking down the aisle.”
Nick grinned. “Fine. I’ll just go back to my post. See you in a second, Becca Stark.”
Becca’s heart filled with warmth and she thought yes, this, this was the moment she’d waited for her entire life.
She walked back out with her parents and the ushers closed the doors to the congregation.
“He’s a keeper, you know,” her mother said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “Not every man would agree to marry you looking like that.”
Becca rolled her eyes. “Thanks, Mama.”
And then the string quartet someone had hired for the event—Becca had no idea who—started playing, and Becca expected to hear the wedding processional. Instead they played “Bless the Broken Road” by Rascal Flatts, and there was no holding back her emotions.
The ushers opened the doors and everyone stood, but Becca’s eyes were locked on one person, the boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago, now the man who would forever hold her heart.
Nick mouthed the words to the song he’d sung in her ear the night he proposed, dancing under a star-filled sky, unwilling to let go long after the band stopped playing and the crowd had dispersed. Because one thing Becca knew for sure: they had both traveled down broken roads, but those roads only ever had one end.
“I love you,” Becca said as she reached him. “I will forever love you.”
“I love you, Becca Hamilton.” And then, ignoring the rules, the crowd, the head shakes of disapproval, Nick pulled her to him and kissed his best friend, his love—his wife.
About the Author
Melissa West writes heartfelt Southern romance and teen sci-fi romance, all with lots of kissing. Because who doesn’t like kissing? She lives outside of Atlanta, GA, with her husband and two daughters, and spends most of her time writing, reading, or fueling her coffee addiction.
Connect with Melissa at www.melissawestauthor.com or on Twitter@MB_West.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
LYRICAL SHINE BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2016 by Melissa West
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Lyrical Shine and Lyrical Shine logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First Electronic Edition: May 2016
ISBN: 978-1-6165-0829-6
ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-830-2
ISBN-10: 1-61650-830-2