The Bouquet List: a Weddings in Westchester novel (Entangled Bliss)

by Barbara Deleo

Now that Nick knew the truth, there was no stopping this relationship, and now that it was all out in the open, there was no need for anyone to get hurt.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lane pulled on the emergency brake and killed the ignition outside the Palace later that night, and Yasmin undid her seat belt. The journey from the Bluebird Club had been mostly filled with discussion about table settings and the press visit tomorrow, but Yasmin had been waiting for Lane to say something about the conversation she’d witnessed between him and Nick when she’d come back from the roof with Rachel. It had been serious, but ended with smiles and a handshake, and she had an uneasy feeling the two men had “come to an understanding.” About her. As if she were a child.

  “Do you still want to come in and check the new tables before tomorrow?” she asked as she rested her hand on the door.

  A small frown creased his brow. “Would you like me to? I get the feeling something’s bugging you.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to do anything that was going to be a problem for you.” That sounded snarky. She hated snarky, and she hated that she’d responded in a way that she’d promised herself she wouldn’t. Seeing Lane with his group of friends and his life that she’d so conveniently forgotten about when he was here with her caused a sick feeling that was growing by the minute. It wasn’t his fault. If it was anyone’s fault it was hers, for not thinking about what would happen between them in the longer term.

  And that just sounded like a big old cliché. Images of Lane talking and laughing with his friends reeled through her head. They were people who were so unlike her now they may have been aliens teleported from another planet. A relationship with Lane meant becoming part of his world, the same world she’d vowed to leave behind in her search for a new truthfulness. But where did that fit with the growing need to be with him, the deepening feelings she had for him, and the ticking time bomb that was his departure in a matter of weeks?

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She scrubbed her hands over her face and then interlaced her fingers in her lap. She’d never felt more tired. “But yes, there are probably a few things that are bugging me.”

  “Start with one,” Lane said, his voice calm.

  “Did you tell Nick about us?”

  Lane undid his seat belt and turned toward her. “Yes. I’m proud to be with you. I don’t think we should hide it anymore.”

  Her stomach dipped. Was this the end of everything? Now that her brother knew about them there would be expectations about how things should work and what should happen next. She smoothed her palms down her skirt and looked straight ahead into the dark night. There would be pressure about what this relationship should be and how it should unfold, and none of that had factored into her silly little wish to seduce a man like Lane. She’d only considered what would be good for her, not him or anyone else.

  She nodded. “If you’d given me warning that you were going to tell him tonight, then maybe we could both have worked out what we were going to say to him.” And if you hadn’t said anything I could have gone on pretending this was some little fantasy.

  Lane put his hand on her arm, but she didn’t turn toward him. She couldn’t believe he’d made the decision to tell Nick—something they’d acknowledged was a big deal—without talking to her about it. He’d treated her just like her family would have. Not as an equal partner, who should have a say in the things that affected her. She couldn’t live like that anymore.

  “I thought you understood my frustration with being protected my whole life, Lane. I thought you understood that the whole reason for me wanting to live my own life now was because for so long I’ve been suffocated. And yet what do you do when you know my brother’s going to be at the party tonight? You decide to tell him without discussing how and what we say to him. You take it all into your own hands and do things the way you want to.”

  “I think you’re missing the point here,” he said warily. “I was able to convince him. He’s fine with it now.”

  She twisted in her seat so she could see him more clearly. “No, I think you’re missing the point. I don’t need to have things fixed for me or be looked after, Lane. Not by you or anyone. And it’s none of Nick’s business what’s happening between you and me. Telling him just gives him more reason to tell me what to do.”

  He regarded her for a moment. “Yasmin, Nick asked what was going on between us and I wanted to tell him the truth. Like it or not, I’ve been his friend longer than I’ve been in a relationship with you, and I believed I owed him that courtesy.” He speared his fingers through his hair. “Was it only me telling Nick that bothered you? I got the feeling you were upset before that.”

  She breathed deeply through her nose and kept her eyes fixed on the windshield. “I didn’t fit in with those people, Lane.”

  “What do you mean? They all loved you.”

  “They don’t know anything about me. Their lives are so different from mine. Their goals and their priorities.”

  “They’re just like me,” he said. “People looking for solid relationships and a stable life.”

  A chill swept over Yasmin’s skin. “Look, this is not the sort of conversation to have in a car,” she said and opened her door. This couldn’t be happening. Was Lane just turning into another person who had misplaced expectations of her?

  She stepped out onto the pavement and was vaguely aware of a feeling as if all the blood in her head was rushing to her toes. She grabbed hold of the car and heard Lane calling her name.

  “Yas, are you okay?” His voice sounded far away. “Yasmin, what is it?”

  She tried to fight an overwhelming feeling of dizziness but it became too great. And then she let a soft blanket cover her eyes as she slipped beneath it, the heavy sound of her breathing echoing loudly in her ears.

  When she came to, Lane was touching her face. The pavement was cold and hard beneath her back. “Hang in there, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

  “No,” she managed to say, speaking over what felt like a mouth full of cotton wool. “I don’t need an ambulance. I’ll be fine, please don’t call. I know what’s wrong. Can you help me inside?”

  He lifted her into his arms and carried her through the gates, her bag slung over his shoulder. The security lamps were on and the fairy lights in the old sycamore tree twinkled. She snuggled into his neck as she saw Monty’s enclosure in the distance. Feeling caged and restricted like Monty was all in her head. She was free to spread her wings and fly away any time she wanted. Free to finish her bouquet list. The thought didn’t give her the same buzz as usual, but that wasn’t a surprise given the night she’d had.

  Lane held her close and then stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “We’re not looking at the tables tonight,” he said in a low voice.

  “But we’ve only got three days to go. And the press will be here tomorrow.”

  “We’re on target. I’ll deal with the press while you rest tomorrow. We’re going to make it, Yas. After all our hard work, we’re going to make it. I just wish you’d told me you weren’t well.”

  He began to move up the stairs.

  “Then we might not have made it.”

  Once they were inside, he laid her on the couch and put her bag on the floor beside her. She sat up and pushed damp hair from her face as she looked into Lane’s eyes. “I should have told you from the start but I was worried you wouldn’t let me work on the project with you. I didn’t want to worry Mom or Dad, either.”

  A frown dug into his forehead and he held her hand. “Tell me what, Yas?”

  “I nearly died in Borneo. It’s the reason I came back earlier than expected. It’s the reason I’ve put my studies on hold.”

  “And the list,” he said.

  “I called it my bouquet list.” His eyes widened, then he nodded in understanding so she continued. “I had dengue fever and I’m still recovering. I’m usually fine but I get tired.”

&nbs
p; “But why didn’t you tell me?” he said, reaching for a bright red throw before gently placing it over her. “I’ve been pushing you ’til all hours of the night, not letting you have any time off. Why wouldn’t you tell me something like this?”

  “Because I didn’t want to be treated any differently. I wanted to do my share, not be cosseted and sheltered like I’ve been most of my life. The only person who knew was Genie. She’s the only person who understands why I need to be taken seriously.”

  “I take you seriously.”

  “Do you?”

  “Of course I do, but I’d have thought we were close enough by now that you’d have told me something so huge. It must have been terrible being so sick on the other side of the world.” He sat closer and laid a hand on her cheek. “I’m sorry about telling Nick about us, before you were ready, but it’s turned out fine.”

  “Thanks for saying sorry,” she said, but she knew tonight had changed everything. She had to accept what they had for now. “You know that my mom’s considering not coming back?”

  He squeezed her hand, and for the first time since she’d heard the news about her mom, she felt teary. When Lane drew his face close, then kissed her softly, all the tension from the last few hours simply melted away. “I’m here for you, Yas. Whether you’re sick, or you’re dealing with what’s happening in your family. I’m here to help you through all of it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, snuggling against him. “I’ll be fine. Once the relaunch is over I can rest, and I promised I’d Skype with Mom tomorrow morning.”

  “Will you talk to her about not coming back?”

  Yasmin sighed. “No. That’s not the way we operate. We pretend everything’s fine and don’t mention what’s really going on.”

  “Like you not telling them you’ve been sick?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “I want you to know that telling Nick about us has changed nothing,” he said. “You and I are both consenting adults who like spending time with each other and who happen to make a great team.”

  Triiiiing!

  She slapped her hand on her bag. “I’m taking that damned app off my phone. It seemed like such a great idea at the time, but now it’s just irritating.”

  He touched her chin with his fingers and turned her face toward him. “I kinda like it now. It’s made me more determined to have what I want in my life. And that’s you.”

  Maybe Nick’s knowing hadn’t changed things, but had Lane seen how out of her depth she was at the party tonight? Did he understand that what they had right now could never last beyond a summer fling between two friends? Something in her heart told her he didn’t.

  …

  Lane opened his eyes with a start. He’d been dreaming he was fighting a duel with Nick, and that they’d reached the edge of a cliff and the person who won the next point would have the power to push the other over the edge. All he remembered was looking in Nick’s eyes and knowing that he could do it, that if he was challenged long and hard enough, he could push his friend off.

  He blinked and focused on a spot on the ceiling as his heart rate returned to normal. Telling Nick about his relationship with Yasmin had been difficult last night, but he knew deep down that no matter which way his friend had reacted, Lane would still be here lying next to Yasmin.

  This bed with its colorful quilt and curled iron headboard had become familiar to him now, as had the soft sound of Yasmin’s breathing as she slept. He turned his head and her face was only inches from his on the pillow, her eyes closed, lashes soft against her olive skin.

  He’d finally gotten her to open up about her illness last night, but she’d made him promise not to treat her any differently now that he knew. She was so fiercely independent and determined to see this through that he’d had to agree with her. Didn’t mean he couldn’t bring her extra cups of tea and make sure she was eating well.

  He lifted his wrist to look at his watch. Quarter past nine. She’d mentioned Skyping with her mom at nine, and he’d organized a nine thirty meeting with Grace before the press arrived for a walk-through at ten thirty. He touched a finger to her cheek, and slowly her eyes fluttered open.

  “Good morning, sleepy,” he whispered. “How are you feeling?”

  She murmured, shut her eyes again, and wriggled closer to him. He took a moment to appreciate the feel of her curves against his body before trying again. This time he nuzzled her shoulder, then laid a kiss on the warm skin exposed. “We’ve slept the morning away and it’s nine fifteen. As much as I don’t want you going anywhere, you said you needed to speak to your mom.”

  She gasped and dragged herself upright, pulling the sheet with her so it nearly covered his head. “Yikes! I need to call her before she goes to work. It’s one of her saint’s days.”

  She scrambled out of bed, pulling the sheet with her, but he held on to the end closest to him and grinned. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  There was a momentary tug of war and then she let go, laughing, and stood before him, her beautiful body lush in the sunlight. She dragged open a drawer, pulled out underwear, and hurriedly slipped it on. “It’s so hard to leave you in there,” she said. “You look so lovely and crumply and sleepy. Will you wait there until I’ve finished talking to Mom? I want to come back and be crumply and sleepy with you.”

  He propped himself against the headboard. “I’d love to, but we have the press coming in at ten thirty and I have to meet with Grace now, and you have those waitress stations to finish before tomorrow. What say we meet in the restaurant before lunch? We can work through the afternoon and if we get everything finished, tonight I can take you out for dinner, if you’re feeling okay, that is.”

  “That would be lovely, and I’m feeling fine.” She grinned, then started searching for something on her nightstand. “Where’s my comb? Mom’s made so many comments about the color of my hair I don’t want her to think I haven’t brushed it this morning yet.” She lifted her bag from the floor and scrabbled through until she found it. She dropped the bag on the nightstand and then dragged the comb through her hair. How could anyone look so radiant after a night out and sleeping half the morning? Even the little diamond stud in her nose seemed alive as it twinkled in the sunlight.

  “Where’s your butterfly necklace?” he asked.

  “I took it off when I wasn’t feeling well last night.”

  “You should put it on again. It suits you.”

  As she pulled her dress over her head he watched her wriggle her hips, trying to make the fabric slip down, and he groaned, wishing she were back in bed, pressed close.

  Yasmin quickly reached over her shoulder, zipped up the dress, then came and sat on the bed next to him. She tucked one foot underneath her and grabbed his hand. “I should go. I don’t want to miss Mom.” She winked. “Don’t suppose I should tell her who and what kept her waiting.” She leaned in and kissed him.

  “Say hi to your mom for me. I’d like us to tell her soon, but it would probably be best if we do it when we don’t both have bedhead.”

  He watched her move out of the room, and when she was gone, he lay back on his pillow and sighed in satisfaction as he thought about their future.

  He was glad that he’d pushed past his own doubts about beginning a relationship with her. Now that they’d started, he never intended to stop. He’d give them time to settle into the relationship and everyone around them to get used to the idea, then he’d propose. It would have to be somewhere special for his Yasmin—somewhere as unique as she was. He had time to think of the perfect place. He smiled, thinking of her face when he popped the question. And the ring would have to be unique. Perhaps an amethyst surrounded by a circle of tiny diamonds?

  Grinning, he threw back the covers and knocked the bag from the nightstand, scattering Yasmin’s things across the floor. He bent down and gathered them up. Her phone, a book, a makeup purse, and a piece of card covered in Yasmin’s flowing script in a small plastic sleeve. He read the title. So,
this is the famous bouquet list.

  His eyes scanned down the list to number five. Seduce a man who’s out of your league. Tall, dark, and mysterious. No chickening out!

  His chest pulled tight. Tall, dark, and mysterious? Out of her league? He’d thought he was on her list? He’d obviously misunderstood when she’d said it, but she hadn’t tried to correct him, either.

  He heard her speaking loudly in Greek in the room next door, and the momentary pang that it hadn’t been his name written there dissolved. So what if it hadn’t been him she’d thought of when she wrote this list? What did it matter? He hadn’t been part of her world for ten years when she was ill and wrote out her life goals. That she’d chosen him now was enough; it was everything, and what they had together was probably so much more than even she’d imagined.

  He moved to put it back in when he caught sight of number six on her list.

  A trip to Rome. He grinned as he imagined them soaking up the color of Italy on a vacation together, indulging in the food, and dancing until their feet ached. And she’d been learning Italian. He’d heard her reciting phrases from her online course as she sat with an earnest look on her face, her headphones in her ears, so she was well on her way with that, too. Maybe their honeymoon could be in Italy. Rome in the spring would be the perfect place to start their life as a married couple.

  Number seven, learn to dance, was crossed out and he frowned. She certainly didn’t need dancing lessons; they’d moved together so well at the wedding. Maybe she’d thought so, too.

  He was about to put the list back when he noticed the very last thing and his blood turned to ice. Find my artist lover in a country far away from here and spend the rest of our lives traveling, tied to nothing and no one.

  His heart thudded in his throat as the world fell away beneath him. At least with number five he fit all the criteria, even if she hadn’t mentioned him by name. With the last entry he fit none. In fact, that description was completely contrary to who he was and how he intended to live his life.

  She wanted to spend the rest of her life with a man who was the opposite of him.