Page 5

Kat

W e were forty-five minutes late for lunch at the Yankee Rebel Tavern, but I didn’t mind one bit.

That time I spent with Owen, alone and uninterrupted, proved to be a deeply insightful and revealing experience.

He was just as fun to be around as he always was, but there was a seriousness to him as well that made him super sexy.

And when I’d tripped, conveniently falling into his arms like some romance movie heroine, I so thought he was going to kiss me.

At the time, I didn’t know if I was ready for that or not.

But after seeing the way he’d looked at me while taking pictures of me with the lilacs . . . whew . . . my blood was still boiling.

It was time to stop fighting my attraction to him. I had to figure out a way to make him mine.

But then again . . . what if I was reading too much into it? What if I only saw what I wanted to see in his eyes? What if, while he’d held me against his hard chest―cue full body shiver―I only imagined his gaze lingering on my lips? What if I made a move and he pushed me away?

Devastation.

That’s what.

I’d be destroyed.

I’d never be able to show my face in front of him again.

He was my brother’s best friend. I wouldn’t be able to avoid him if disaster happened.

No.

I couldn’t risk it.

Our friendship was more important than my starving lady bits.

Shocker . . . that thought had my mind turning to how mind blowingly amazing I imagined being with him would be. I’d wanted him since I’d read my first romance novel and understood what sex was. Knowing him, I'm sure he would show the same level of generosity in bed as he did in life.

My fantasy bubble burst as I heard my name. “What?”

“The rings,” Todd was saying. “You didn’t forget the rings, right?”

I rolled my eyes. It was so like my brother to think I’d flake out on something so important even though I’d never flaked out on anything my whole life. “Of course not. They’re locked up tight in my room.”

“Good. Because we can’t get married without them.”

The conversation moved on from there, and several times throughout the meal, I noticed Scott and Stephanie with their heads together as if discussing something important, just like Owen had mentioned during the bicycle incident.

I noticed Owen's gaze lingered on them, his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, and realized he had been observing their behavior as well. I wasn’t a suspicious person by nature, but even I couldn’t ignore the weird vibe they were throwing off.

As everybody rose to head outside for the next wedding weekend event, croquet on the lawn of the Grand Hotel, of all things, Tria’s phone rang. Her dismay during the conversation with the caller caught everyone’s attention.

“No! Oh, my God. No!” She plunked down in a seat as if her legs couldn’t hold her up anymore.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Todd asked as he crouched down beside her.

“Flowers,” was all she managed to croak out while holding up her phone. The faint sound of the other person’s voice on the line made me realize the call was still connected, so I grabbed her phone.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Dowd,” the person said. “We have no idea how this happened. We will, of course, refund your deposit.”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted. “Could you start at the beginning? What happened?”

“The refrigerator where we’d stored your wedding flowers got unplugged. This has never happened before. It must have occurred sometime last evening. Unfortunately, the flowers have all wilted beyond saving. And there is not enough time to get a new shipment of flowers in to replace them.”

My gaze swept across the faces of my friends and family, their expressions a mixture of concern and anticipation as they waited to hear about the crisis. But it was Stephanie’s barely perceptible smile that snagged my attention and sparked suspicion. Was this her doing? And if so, why?

My mind raced with possible solutions as the flower shop owner poured out her apologies. I interrupted once more as an idea came to mind. “If I can get my hands on some fresh flowers, do you think we have enough time to put together a few bouquets and some other decorative arrangements?”

“I-I suppose,” she hedged. “If I had enough help.”

“Great. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll see what I can do.”

Hanging up with the flower shop lady, I turned to my best friend, who was on the verge of a meltdown. The bride was starting to unravel, so I put on my maid of honor hat and prepared myself to offer some much-needed reassurance and guidance.

“Okay. So, this is just a temporary setback,” I started. “We are not going to let this derail your wedding. I have a plan. Your job now is to wipe your face and go play a kickass game of croquet.” That got a giggle out of my best friend, whose defeated mood seemed to lift just a bit.

After a few more reassurances, I got the wedding party moving on to the next event.

I stood on the sidewalk outside one of the many fudge shops on Main Street and watched them head away toward the Grand Hotel.

That familiar presence that had been so prevalent by my side the last few days was a comfort I didn’t know I needed.

“So, what’s the plan?” Owen asked.

“Time to start knocking on doors,” I stated.

Owen was a trooper. He didn’t once question the insanity of my plan. His quiet support was invaluable, providing me with backing, comfort, and a sense of security as we moved forward with the plan.

Our first stop was the flower shop to see what kind of damage we were dealing with. While there, I purchased cutting shears and a giant basket to carry everything we were going to gather. Positive thinking . . . it was the only way I was going to make it through the afternoon.

By the end of two hours, I’d lost track of the number of doors we’d knocked on, but the wonderful people of Mackinac Island had come through for us.

They’d let us carefully snip blooms of lilacs to help save my best friend's wedding.

The basket was filled to the brim with the vibrant display, their fragrance creating a sweet and delightful atmosphere.

Back at the flower shop, the owner had gathered a small group of her friends, who were all eager and willing to lend a hand. Overwhelmed with emotion, I excused myself to the small restroom at the back of the shop before the threatening tears could embarrass me.

But of course, as soon as I was done composing myself, I walked out of the bathroom and straight into Owen’s arms. He wrapped me up in a tight hug and whispered in my ear, “You did good, Kit.”

It was the use of the nickname, this time spoken with such tenderness and affection, that caused my emotions to swell. The backs of my eyes were already stinging and his words just made it worse. I stood nestled within his embrace, feeling the comforting warmth of his body against mine.

I never wanted to leave.

I drew back, tilting my head up to look at him. His expression was one of such raw emotion, it took my breath away. “Thank you for your help,” I murmured, at a loss as to what else to say. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I was sure he could hear it in the quiet of the hallway.

Slowly, almost reverently, his hands made their way up, finally coming to rest upon my cheeks. His fingers left a soft tingling sensation as he cupped my face. "You amaze me," he said, his voice a warm whisper, and my heart took flight, soaring on the wings of his words.

Then his mouth was on mine and the taste of him filled my senses. I was lost.

Utterly and completely.

His tongue swept across my lips as if seeking permission, which I granted. I was unsure if the moan I heard when his tongue slipped into my mouth was his or mine. All I knew was that his kiss was everything I dreamed of and more.

And more was exactly what I wanted.

I didn’t remember putting my hands on his chest, but just then I was sliding them up and into the back of his hair, gripping the strands.

That time I knew the moan came from him.

His hands left my cheeks, gliding down my back until he was grabbing my other cheeks.

The pressure he applied was so intense that I found myself pressed firmly against him, from chest to pelvis. And I felt everything.

And I do mean everything.

Grinding against him, I felt a primal, animalistic desire take over me. I couldn’t get close enough. I couldn’t feel enough.

His mouth did wicked things to mine, and I wanted to beg for more. A sudden gasp and muttered apology startled me, jolting me back to reality with the force of a cold bucket of water being dumped on my head.

Owen lifted his head and spoke to whoever had interrupted our moment, his eyes never leaving mine. “Sorry,” he apologized to whoever had interrupted us. “We’ll be out in a moment.”

My face flushed with heat, and unable to bear the weight of my awkwardness, I lowered my head to his chest, hoping to disappear into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, God,” I mumbled into the material.

His chuckle was a deep, rumbling sound that I felt as much as I heard. “You okay, Kit?”

“I'm aware that you can't actually die from embarrassment, but it sure feels like a possibility right now. I can’t believe I just did that! Please tell me I didn’t just climb you like a monkey in front of a stranger.”

“You didn’t just climb me like a monkey. But for the record, I’d be completely on board with that,” he teased. I groaned and slapped my palms to my cheeks, hoping my hands were cold enough to cool them down. No such luck.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me down the hall to the front of the shop. “Let’s get out of here and let the ladies work.”

“Any chance of a back door escape route?”

His laugh made me smile and momentarily forget my crushing embarrassment at having been caught making out with a man like a horny teenager.