Moonlight Kiss cc-5

by LuAnn McLane

  But when Rick entered the room with the plastic bag of crushed ice Maggie looked up and smiled, slicing through his gloom like a ray of warm sunshine. Keeping his distance wasn’t going to be easy.

  12

  Reality Bites

  REID LOOKED UP AT THE STRIPED AWNING ABOVE Addison’s bridal shop and read, “From This Moment.” The scripted name reminded Reid of the dance they’d shared together at Sully’s. He inhaled sharply, trying to chase away the memory of having Addison in his arms. He was here on business, not pleasure, and he’d best remember that little fact. Although Addison’s grand opening wasn’t for a couple of weeks, Reid knew that she was already taking orders for dresses and was available for consultation. He knew this because Sara had already spoken with Addison about the whole barn-wedding idea that Sara just wouldn’t let go.

  Reid flexed his fingers, trying to maintain his cool, but it irked him that instead of dissuading his sister, according to Sara, Addison was actually on board with the harebrained idea. Someone like Addison had money to burn and no worries about her future, but his sister didn’t have that luxury. If Addison’s fancy little boutique went under she could move on to the next pet project, giving her mother a nice little tax write-off.

  Reid rolled his shoulders, trying to regain his composure before confronting Addison. He’d deliberately left his dusty work clothes on, including his boots, to drive home the fact that he and his sister were hardworking farmers rather than a rich girl playing with Mama’s money. He’d probably arrived after hours, but the lights were on in the boutique and with luck the front door would still be open.

  After their make-out session, Addison had filled his thoughts for nearly two weeks. He’d vowed to take it slow but Reid didn’t think he could last much longer before seeing her again. He’d had every intention of asking her out for dinner, until while he was checking out at the grocery store he’d seen Addison’s picture on the cover of one of those tabloids. She’d been kissing Rick Ruleman. Unable not to, Reid had picked the magazine up and read the article detailing how Addison had an affair with the rock legend, ending her engagement to Rick’s son, Garret, who was reported to be heartbroken.

  Sara had warned Reid that those papers were full of crap, but the picture was pretty damning. No wonder Addison was hiding out in Cricket Creek. Her mother was probably embarrassed as hell. Looked like he’d been right about Addison being pretty wild and not his type at all.

  After another deep breath, Reid pushed open the deep red door and entered the shop. He clumped across the gleaming hardwood floor, feeling a little bit like Pigpen in the Charlie Brown comics. Soft music played through hidden speakers, and the air smelled like vanilla and flowers. Wedding gowns were artfully displayed on both sides of the middle of the big open room. Overhead lighting glinted off white fabric, making the details sparkle. Lighted display cases showcased jewelry and beaded purses. Antiques, white linen—all created an air of elegance. He would have been impressed that she’d pulled this together so quickly if he hadn’t been so pissed.

  Reid looked around, trying to see where Addison was hiding, but wondered if she wasn’t upstairs and had forgotten to lock the front door. Sara had told him that Addison had moved from the condo to the loft apartment. He felt a flash of concern and then squashed it, reminding himself that she wasn’t the sweet and innocent little thing that she’d pretended to be.

  And then he saw her.

  With her back to him, Addison struggled with a big box, tugging it into the room from what appeared to be a storage area. She wore jeans and a plain pink T-shirt. Her long dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and if he wasn’t mistaken she was barefoot. He wondered why she didn’t seem to hear him but then noticed earphones. She paused and bobbed her head and shoulders to the beat and then did a cute little wiggle thing while snapping her fingers. Lifting her arms she hummed for a minute, sang a word here and there. She did a shimmy to the left and then to the right. She bobbed and weaved, started singing again as if she couldn’t help herself. Reid grinned but then reminded himself that nothing about her was amusing. Still dancing but a little bit more subdued she opened the flaps on the top of the box. “Addison?” he called out, but she must have had the music turned up pretty loud because she didn’t respond.

  “Oh!” her soft, throaty exclamation of delight teased his senses and he smiled, forgetting for a moment how pissed he was at her, and he stood rooted to the spot. She lifted up a wedding veil and examined it tenderly, cooing over the pearls and details. She stood in the soft lighting, looking so damned pretty that his blood stirred. She bent forward and pulled out some tissue paper, letting it flutter to the floor, and then examined another veil, handling it with care before putting it on a linen-covered display table. “Oh, pink rosebuds!” she said with a sense of wonder that for some reason Reid found super-sweet but somehow sexy. He decided it was time to make his presence known.

  He started clumping across the room toward her. “Addison?” he said, but she started bopping her head again before bending back into the box. Finally he walked closer and tapped her on the back.

  “Eeeek!” She quickly stood up and then stumbled backward, tripping over the edge of a round Oriental rug and she fell, landing on her butt with a grunt. The veil she clutched went flying upward and fluttered to the floor with a light clink.

  “Oh, crap. Are you okay?” Reid towered over her while she blinked up at him.

  “How did you get in here?” She tugged the earbuds out and gave him a decidedly unfriendly stare.

  When she ignored his outstretched hand he crossed his arms across his chest. “The front door was open.” He tilted his head in that direction.

  “Well, we’re closed,” she said shortly. “I thought I’d locked it.”

  Reid understood her anger. She’d thrown herself at him and he’d responded, but he hadn’t called her since that night. For a second he felt like an ass. Then he remembered the picture of her kissing a long-haired, leather-clad rock star.

  “Well?”

  Reid looked down at her. “I need to talk to you.” Her feet were indeed bare. Peach-tinted toenails seemed to beg for his touch. “You’re barefoot,” he said without thinking. Her delicate feet looked even more feminine next to his big clunky boots.

  “I have a blister from my shoes,” she explained, but then shook her head as if clearing it. “What do you want, Reid?”

  I want to know why you were kissing Rick Ruleman.

  “Well?” Her chin came up in defiance but then she seemed to catch herself. When she put her palms on the floor and pushed upward he saw her wince, and some of his anger faded.

  “Are you okay?” He held his hand out but she ignored it once more.

  “Just . . . sore. I’ve been doing a lot of bending and lifting.” She sliced her hand through the air. “As you can imagine.”

  Reid nodded and he knew the polite thing to do would to be to tell her how great the shop looked, but he didn’t. “About this thing with my sister . . .”

  “I’m sorry, Reid, but I did my research and Sara is onto something. Barn weddings are popular. With Wedding Row in place she would really develop a thriving business. I had to be honest.”

  “Honest?” He all but growled the word, making her eyebrows shoot up. “Do you even know the meaning of the word? Look, I know you just do what you want . . . take what you want.”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyes widened, but he kept on talking.

  “And this shop is a fun little distraction while you hide out here in Cricket Creek from your . . . indiscretions.”

  “Indiscretions? Who even says that?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Really?” she asked flatly. “Enlighten me.”

  “Let’s not go there. But listen. My sister doesn’t have money to play around with, unlike you. I asked you to discourage her from sinking her retirement into this little game, and you had to go and do the direct opposite. Were you trying to get back at me? Is that it?”<
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  Addison blinked at him.

  Reid knew he was being an ass but he was fueled by anger and jealousy. “Well?”

  “You seem to already have all of the answers,” she answered tightly, but her voice shook.

  “No, I don’t. That’s why I’m here.” For the first time Reid noticed slight shadows beneath her eyes. What was keeping her up at night? Guilt?

  Addison gave him a level stare and then swallowed hard. “For the record, I don’t owe you any explanations. And I’m not about to defend myself. But here are the facts: If you’re referring to my supposed affair with Rick Ruleman, that was fabricated either by his camp to fuel his bad-boy image or by Garret to get big ratings for his reality show. A show I would have no part of because I value my privacy and my reputation. The picture that keeps showing up of me seeming to kiss Rick was taken at my engagement party to his son. It was completely innocent. And the funds to open this shop came from my own personal investments. I have a degree in business and I’ve been taught well by my mother, who I’m sure you’re familiar with, since you seem to have been digging into my personal life. I know a thing or two about money.”

  Oh . . . shit. “Addison . . .”

  She held up her index finger. “Oh no, please allow me to finish. And as for your sister’s risk in hosting wedding receptions?” She tapped her chest. “I am prepared to be an investor in the renovation of the barn. In fact, I have talked to several of the shop owners in Wedding Row and they were all interested in helping to get this off the ground. Here’s another fun fact: Sara’s own wedding is going to be virtually free because we’re taking the opportunity to showcase our shops. The gown, the cake, catering, tuxedoes, flowers . . . you name it. Jason Craig was even willing to throw in most of his labor for renovating the barn in exchange for having his wedding to Madison Robinson on your farm. It’s called bartering, and, according to Sara, I understand farmers still do a lot of that.”

  Addison walked over to a desk and picked up a sheet of paper. She tapped the side of her cheek. “Let’s see. I have Mia Monroe’s wedding on the list. I assure you that it will be quite an affair. Maggie McMillan, the real estate lady in the corner shop, said that her son, Tristan, and Savannah Perry are interested as well. She even offered to add a link on her Web site to help book weddings with out-of-town clients. All of this, and we haven’t even advertised. It’s all just word of mouth.” She tilted her head to the side. “Was there anything else you wanted to know? I’m kind of busy.”

  Speechless, Reid looked at her. Although he towered over her even more than usual in his work boots with her being barefoot, he suddenly felt very small.

  “Nothing more? Super.” She pointed to the door. “Oh, and just a simple a word of advice: Don’t believe everything you read and don’t listen to gossip. I’m just sayin’.” She abruptly turned her back on him and reached into the box of veils.

  Reid stood there for a moment, wondering what in the hell to do. Sorry wouldn’t even begin to cut it. He thought the best thing to do would be to simply leave, but when he saw the slight hitch of her shoulders Reid thought she might be crying. Shit.

  Reid simply could not stand to see a woman cry. His mother knew it and so did Sara and they weren’t above using tears to their advantage, but this was different. He had made Addison cry. He had to make her stop. After clearing his throat he said, “Addison?”

  She went very still but failed to turn around.

  “Listen . . .”

  Addison whirled around so fast that her ponytail looked like a helicopter blade. “No, you listen.” She pointed at him, lest there be no mistake. “You think you know all about me, don’t you, Reid Greenfield? That I’m a spoiled, rich socialite born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Well, I’m not!” She patted her chest so hard that Reid winced. “I grew up in a middle-class suburban neighborhood outside of Chicago. My dad was an art teacher at the local high school, and my mother tried without much success to sell her books on finance. They struggled. In fact, my mother is a Seminole Indian raised on a reservation in Florida, and my dad is the son of a plumber.”

  “Addison, I—”

  “My mother didn’t set out to become famous, only to help real people manage their money. She certainly saw plenty of poverty. They are two of the most humble, grounded people I know.” She swallowed hard, but, thank God, held her tears in check. Reid quit trying to stop her. Raising her hands she said, “I went to college on an academic scholarship and got engaged to my best friend before he became famous. Aiden and I weren’t meant to get married, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t deeply hurt when he cheated on me. I lost his friendship out of the whole mess and had to weather the gossip and mean accusations. And Garret? Yeah, I rebounded with Garret, who made me laugh like crazy and brought me out of my nerdy shell and helped me fit into a society that I never felt comfortable around. Yeah, he’s a big kid, selfish and spoiled and terribly insecure. But I didn’t cheat on him with his father. I’ve never cheated on anyone or anything, despite what everyone is saying about me behind my back and to the media. You can believe me or not believe me . . . I really don’t give a damn what people believe anymore. Especially you.” She pointed at him again.

  “Why especially me?”

  “Because . . . because you’re a judgmental jerk with your head so far up your ass you can’t see daylight.”

  Reid almost laughed. Curse words coming out of her mouth just seemed funny. But he didn’t laugh because, unfortunately, she was right. With her hands fisted on her hips, she angled her head at him and glared, even as her eyes glittered with unshed tears.

  “Now get out of my store before . . . before I . . . pick you up and . . . toss you to the curb,” she sputtered. She stomped her foot, apparently forgetting she was barefoot, and winced.

  Reid jammed his thumb over his shoulder. “You want to grab a cold beer? I think you could use one. I know I’m dusty, but I can fit in at Sully’s.”

  “Are you serious? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “No, I’m serious.” He gave her a slight shrug. “But you’d have to wear shoes.”

  She looked down at her feet and then back up at him. She took a couple of steps closer and then tilted her head up.

  Reid held his breath.

  “I wouldn’t drink a beer with you if you were the last man on earth.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”

  “You think?”

  Reid nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

  “Well, and I hate to tell you, but I’ll be a frequent visitor on your farm. Renovations to the barn will begin soon, and I’m going to be consulting with Sara whether you like it or not. I would appreciate if you’d stay out of my way.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.”

  “But, Addison?”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “I’m sorry. I was way out of line. And I’m really impressed with the shop.”

  She remained still and silent, unrelenting, and yet there was a vulnerable set to her mouth that hit Reid in the gut. He knew he’d been dead-ass wrong, and he’d screwed up his chance with a beautiful, funny, smart woman. The urge to pull her into his arms and hug her tightly was so damned strong but he was pretty sure he’d get a knee where he didn’t want it, and so he nodded once more and turned around and walked out of the store.

  13

  Defying Gravity

  ADDISON IGNORED THE THUMPING OF HER HEART AS SHE pulled her Mustang into the front driveway of the Greenfield farmhouse. If she ran into Reid she’d smile politely and give him the cold shoulder. Of course, seeing him actually made her body warm instead of cold but she’d never let him know it. She supposed, however, that Reid had gotten the message after her tirade last night. Afterward she’d felt a little bit embarrassed, especially when she realized much later while lying in bed that he must have seen her dancing and singing along with CeeLo Green. Why did it have to be that song? Sh
e gripped the steering wheel and shook her head. “Because that’s the way my life goes, apparently.”

  At least the Sunday afternoon sunshine felt good on her cheeks. Although the upcoming grand opening of From This Moment sent a nervous flutter through her stomach, getting away for a while and taking in the country scenery felt amazingly freeing. She reminded herself that beautiful inventory filled every nook and cranny of the shop and that for all intents and purposes she was ready to open. She’d hired a local seamstress, and for now she’d concentrate on the paperwork and wedding planning. If the consulting end of the business accelerated, she’d hire an assistant to help her out. Mia promised to do what she could, but her job at the baseball stadium picked up with the beginning of the season, and coupled with watching Cam play baseball, she wouldn’t be around much.

  Stepping out of the car, Addison smiled at the picture-perfect farmhouse appearing before her, serene and welcoming. Abundant flowers provided a burst of color against the white background. Wicker furniture and fat baskets of ferns on the front porch called for lazy afternoons of sipping on sweet tea. A big oak tree graced the front lawn, reaching up to the sky with open arms. A tire swing hung from a thick branch, making Addison imagine laughing children—but definitely not an adorable young Reid—being pushed high in the air. The top of a tall silo peeked over the house, as if watching over it. Addison’s smile deepened. This was a slice of Americana, a postcard into the past, and she admired Sara for doing all she could to preserve her family farm.

  Addison inhaled the country air, fragrant with cut grass, sweet flowers, freshly turned earth, and a hint of hay. The late-spring day felt almost hot, but thankfully lacked the steamy summer humidity hovering right around the corner. Still, Addison was glad she’d worn cool white shorts and a short-sleeve light blue blouse. A thin gold belt and plaid Sperry Top-Siders gave the casual attire a touch of class with a businesslike edge.