Willow stood, narrowing her eyes at Haven from behind Heath’s mom.
“Thank you,” she said.
Once the older woman was out of the room, Haven rounded on her best friend. “Why did you keep pinching me?”
“Because you share weird facts when you’re nervous.”
Willow was right, but still…she never knew how to respond to compliments. “Maybe I should check out a book by Emily Post.”
“What?”
Haven blinked. “Nothing. I’m ready. Are you ready? We’re ready.”
Willow took Haven by the shoulders. “Everyone is ready. Are you?”
“I didn’t get to thank you for the dress,” Haven said. “I’d planned on wearing—actually, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
“I know you didn’t.” Willow smiled. “Promise me one thing.”
In light of all that Willow had done for her, she’d promise her anything. “Sure.”
“Consider making your marriage to Heath permanent.”
Except that. “Why?”
“Because divorce sucks.”
“Says the woman who’s never been married.”
“No, but the couples I’ve planned weddings for,” Willow’s blue eyes turned sad, “half of them split up. So, for me, maybe you could try?”
“I’ll think about it,” Haven said grudgingly, but she couldn’t bring herself to promise. She hadn’t even seen Heath since he agreed to marry her.
“Follow me,” Willow sang as she opened the bedroom door.
Heath’s brother, Luke, waited at the side entrance. Wait a minute. That wasn’t Luke—that was his twin brother—
Willow froze in her tracks and Haven almost rammed into her. “Logan,” she whispered.
“Ladies,” Logan began. “I’m hoping you can help me surprise my mother. My unit got back early, and no one knows. In return, Luke and I will be y’all’s escorts down the aisle.”
“Sure,” Haven said. At first, she’d planned to walk down the aisle by herself, right after Willow, but this morning when Luke stopped by to offer his escort services to his new sister, she couldn’t refuse.
Logan held out his elbow to Willow, but she still didn’t move. He frowned. “You okay?”
Haven gave her a light nudge, and Willow stumbled. “Fine,” she practically shouted, then delicately cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Just going through all the details in my head to make sure everything is perfect for Haven and Heath.”
Logan gave her a friendly smile before turning his attention elsewhere. Haven’s heart sank as she watched them walk outside. Her little friend wasn’t even on his radar.
“You shouldn’t look so sad on your wedding day,” Luke said as the music changed.
“I’m not sad for me,” she said, then wanted to slap her hand over her mouth.
“He’ll find out sooner or later. His girlfriend isn’t even here.” Luke took her by the arm. “She made up some stupid excuse about driving from Virginia in the middle of the week being too much for her.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. Luke had no clue she meant Willow’s unrequited feelings. “Let’s hope for his sake, that he finds out sooner rather than later.”
Luke gazed at her. “I’m glad you and Heath worked out things. I never thought he’d get over… the one who broke his heart.”
“First loves are hard to get over,” she said. In fact, she’d never gotten over hers, and worse, he never even knew she felt that way about him.
As if reading her mind, Luke nodded and said, “Sometimes, you never get over them.”
*
Heath led Haven out onto the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple. He almost laughed at the thought.
This was their first dance ever, much less as a couple.
She practically shimmered under the twinkling lights. Her light pink hair was swept up in an intricate style that suited her. The gown she wore was sleeveless, but the heaters that had been turned on in the tent seemed to be keeping her warm.
She shivered in his arms. “Would you like my coat?”
“No.” Her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. “I’m not cold.”
The first notes came over the speakers, and Haven’s eyes widened. “Do you approve?” he asked with a smile.
“It’s my favorite song. How did you…?” She shook her head. “Did Willow pick it?”
He gathered her closer. “No.”
“Then how?”
“That night we talked on the phone—I listened to you.”
A bemused look covered her face. “Oh.”
“Speechless?”
A fine blush covered her skin as she nodded.
Man, she was pretty. He never noticed just how much until now. Her skin was flawless and her eyes…usually they were narrowed so tightly when she looked at him, that he never knew the exact color. Grey with flecks of blue and gold—an unexpected color combination.
Do you see her, Heath? Do you really see her?
“Guess that’s a first for you,” he gently teased, trying like hell to see past the façade Haven presented him with.
“I’m sure you’re hoping it won’t be the last time,” she said, then smashed her lips together.
The reminder of their temporary marriage threatened to dampen his good mood, but he refused to concentrate on that. Instead, he would dance, laugh, eat, drink, and be merry. He would enjoy this time with his family and friends with Haven at his side.
“It won’t be,” he said in a cocky tone of voice sure to get her riled.
“You’re so conceited.”
“Just the way you like it.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Yeah, you do.”
She fought a smile and lost. “I’ll never admit it.”
“Just the fact that I know you do is enough for me.” He spun her around and dipped her.
She laughed, her breasts rising and falling. He wondered what her nipples looked like. How her breasts would feel in his hands. She was most definitely endowed in that department, and he sure as hell had always appreciated that. Even more so the older he’d gotten. When he was younger, he didn’t give a damn as long as they were actual breasts.
But now, with this woman in his arms… the heat of her, the nearness of her curvaceous figure, was enough to get his erection rock hard. He wanted her, badly.
He wanted inside her. His imagination ran wild, filling his head with images of them at the beach house in the hot tub, her taking him in her mouth. Him pulling her down on his cock. Watching her breasts bounce and sucking a hard nipple into his mouth.
Her laugher died. “Stop staring at me like that.”
There was no way she knew what he was thinking. “Like what?”
“Like you’re ready to do me in the middle of the dance floor.”
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t that good at hiding what he was thinking. “I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
She sounded so annoyed that he couldn’t help but reply, “Actually, I was thinking about our honeymoon. Do you prefer being on top, or would you rather I fuck you from behind?”
Her mouth opened and closed, but she didn’t miss a beat of the music. Neither did he.
Laughing, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Another secret uncovered. All I have to do to render you speechless is do something thoughtful, or talk about sex.”
“Guess I know what I’ll have to listen to the entire drive.”
“Would it shock you to learn that I actually want to do both?”
She nodded, and her eyes began to glisten.
Shit. He made her cry. His protective instincts rose in full force. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because today wasn’t supposed to be this perfect.” She glanced away. “You weren’t supposed to be this perfect.”
Briefly, he closed his eyes and held her closer, kissing her forehead and every other spo
t within reach. What had she expected from him, from this arrangement? Indifference?
Unsure of what to say, he simply held her until the song ended. The guests clapped and she started, pulling away from him so quickly that she almost left him standing in the middle of the dance floor.
He didn’t understand her at all, but he had four days to discover everything about her.
Chapter Nine
‡
Haven laced her fingers with Heath’s as they ran down a rose-petal strewn aisle, while well-wishers blew bubbles and showered them with birdseed.
Given her experience with changing the sheets of brides and grooms who’d stayed at Chesson House for their first honeymoon night, she was fairly certain that she’d be picking it out of her hair for the next week.
Heath laughingly pulled her along, stopping suddenly in the middle of it all to capture her mouth in a long, hot kiss that made her toes curl.
“What was that for?” she asked dazedly.
“Giving them a show¸ and I wanted to do,” he said. “Hope that’s all right.”
Better to ask for forgiveness than beg for permission. Yet she hadn’t told him no. All she’d done is reach for him when he would lean in close. “Yes.”
With a smile, he took her hand and began to head for his truck again, his long strides eating up the distance. Due to the practical, light pink Chucks she wore under her gown, she was able to keep up with him.
Another round of birdseed hit them, and he whirled her around, pressing her against the truck. She gazed into his eyes. He was going to kiss her again and she knew it, but this time, it was as if he were waiting for permission.
“Heath,” she said, closing her eyes and tipping up her chin. Blindly, she searched for his mouth.
“Right here, sweetness,” he said, brushing his mouth slowly over hers. The pressure was light and tantalizing.
How was it that each kiss was more powerful, more consuming than the next?
With gentle insistence, he coaxed her mouth open and slid his tongue inside, kissing and stroking her like she was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
She clutched at his shoulders, then at the nape of his neck, her fingers lightly scratching him there. A groan rumbled from his chest.
“You’re really good,” she said. At making this look real. How could she have forgotten to add that? That moment of weakness on the dance floor was just that—a moment of weakness that she vowed would never happen again.
“So are you.” He kissed her again, a chaste kiss to her forehead that left her wanting more. But they had a crowd.
He opened the passenger-side door and lifted her easily inside, helping tuck the skirt of her wedding dress inside with her. His gaze fell to her shoes, and a grin kicked up the corners of his mouth.
“Those are unexpectedly hot,” he said.
Unnerved by his pronouncement, she tried to take back control of the situation. “As in freakishly hot? Not what a proper southern belle like—”
“As in, I dig the shoes, Haven, because they’re you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He closed the door and jogged around to the other side, dodging more birdseed from his brothers. Every miss that hit the truck instead of him sounded reminded her of the rain sticks they used to make in social studies while studying Native American cultures.
“Ready to go to the beach?” he asked as he slammed the door shut.
“We could drive around for a couple of hours, then I can go home and do the B&B thing while you go home and play with your balls,” she said sweetly.
“Rather you play with them.” He accompanied the words with a look so hot that she was shocked her panties didn’t melt. “But people are expecting us to leave Holland Springs.”
She sighed. He had a point. “So leave.”
He cranked up the truck, the vibrations from the muffler making her seat move. She gasped, and he laughed.
“Like that, huh?” He revved the engine, and the vibrations grew stronger.
This Heath, she could handle. The one who told stupid jokes and got into mock fights with his brothers at his own wedding was familiar territory to her. It fit his dumb jock image, an image she didn’t find intimidating in the least.
However, the man he’d been giving her glimpses of was an entirely different creature—one she wasn’t sure what to do with.
Grabbing the oh-crap handle by the door, she glared at him. “You are so juvenile.”
“I know how to have fun.” He shifted into drive, and the vibrations slowly faded away. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you back before Sunday. Mrs. Ambrose.”
“Ms. Crawford,” she reminded him, unwilling to play along.
His dark blue eyes bore into hers. “For the next four days, you are, for all intents and purposes, Mrs. Ambrose. Now tell everyone goodbye.”
Tipping up her chin, she pasted on a smile and waved at everyone. “You are so not the boss of me.”
“Pretty sure the preacher said I was.”
Almost growling, she turned to him, ready to chew him up one side and then down the other, but his mouth twitched.
“Didn’t you pay attention to our vows, sweetheart?”
She tapped the side of her face and looked to one side, pretending to think about their vows. “Now that you mention it, I do remember that—and the part about how I get to kick you in the nuts every Tuesday.”
Heath didn’t take her threat as a threat, or a hint to shut up. Oh no. That irritatingly sexy man threw his head back and laughed. “Good thing it’s Wednesday.”
*
Once they were less than twenty minutes away from his family’s beach house, Heath finally asked about what had been on his mind. “Did the will specify how long we have to be married?”
Her expression went from annoyingly gleeful to completely stunned, as if she hadn’t considered the possibility or that he was the one to think of it. Either way, it wasn’t a compliment to him. Then again, she’d never thought well of him. Always wrinkled her nose at him like he smelled like dog shit or something.
Except when he kissed her. Maybe he should kiss her more often.
“I don’t think so, but I don’t remember.” She twirled a long, thick strand of cotton candy-colored hair around two fingers, then let it unwind. It bounced against the tops of her breasts.
Heath swallowed hard, fighting his reaction. If she were any other woman, he would have thought she was being flirty, but not Haven. And especially not with him.
Husband or not.
“We can wait until Monday to give your lawyer a call.”
“She’s gone on vacation for the next two weeks.”
“That long?”
“Slow time of year,” Haven said, still twirling and un-twirling her hair.
“Don’t you have a copy of the will?”
Haven frowned. “It’s not something I wanted to keep. I have enough reminders of their deaths.”
Sympathy rose inside of him. That he could understand. “If I didn’t say it before, you looked beautiful today.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Honestly, I’m surprised you wore something so traditional.”
“Did you think I’d wear black combat boots or something?” she snapped, all defensive.
“The ones you wore in high school?”
“No. I have new ones.”
“They’re pink, aren’t they?”
“Maybe.”
That meant yes, her combat boots were very pink. “Honestly, I thought you would wear something more colorful.”
“Why—so everyone could talk about me?”
He glanced at her, noting the hurt on her face. “If you care that much about what people think of you, then why do you dress and talk the way you do?”
“Why would I change myself to fit their standards?”
“I didn’t say you had to, but you know how people are.”
“That’s why nothing changes.”
More than a little i
rritated by the direction their conversation had taken, he tried again. “I’ve never had a problem with the way you dress, your hair color, or your tattoos.”
“Isn’t that special.”
Keep ignoring her insults, he reminded himself. “In fact, I’ve always thought you were sexy.” He glanced at her again so he could see her reaction.
She turned to him. “You’re a horrible liar.”
“Not lying.”
“Whatever.”
“Believe what you want, but I’m telling you the truth.”
She grew quiet. He turned up the radio and began to hum along.
Leaning forward, she cut the volume down. “I wore the dress for your mother. Willow bought it for me. She tailored it and added more sparkly sequins and beads to make it more to my liking.”
“She’s a really good friend.”
“You’ve always had really good friends.” An image of Bella flashed in his mind, all of sixteen years old and scared to death as he held her hand in the emergency room.
“Figures,” she muttered, along with something else he couldn’t make out.
“What?”
“The light’s changed.”
A horn honked behind him.
He pressed on the gas.
The closer they got to the beach, the more Haven fidgeted. She played with her skirt, then adjusted the volume of the radio before tapping her fingers against her thigh. Then her leg started shaking.
She was nervous. Did she think he was going to throw her over his shoulder and take her to bed?
They both hit it and quit it.
Involuntarily, his hands tightened around the steering wheel. That was exactly what she thought would happen with them, even if she would be the one quitting him by getting a divorce. She had already set them up for failure before the ink was even dry on the marriage certificate.
But what could he do about it? Did he want to do something about it? Or just let things naturally progress? Honestly, he was in all-new territory. Not only was he married, but he was married to a woman who’d practically hated him his entire life and wanted a divorce as soon as possible.
The entire thing was fucked up on every level, but Heath knew what he had to do.
The Temporary Bride Page 6