Treasure on Lilac Lane: A Jewell Cove Novel (11 page)

C
HAPTER
7

The day of the wedding dawned crystal clear and cool, a perfect fall day. Jess stretched and slid out of the warm covers—no time to dillydally. She had to pick Rick up at eight thirty so they could get the car and make it back in time for her hair appointment. She showered and shaved her legs and put on her favorite lotion before wrapping herself in a robe and heading to the kitchen for her first cup of tea.

Today one of her best friends was getting married to one of her favorite cousins. Abby and Tom were so happy, even though it had been rough going in the beginning. The most important thing was that Abby had opened up her heart to Tom and they’d healed each other. To be honest, it gave Jess a sliver of hope. Maybe someday she’d find someone who would render the past impotent. She couldn’t quite imagine it, but for now, she’d enjoy seeing two happy people pledge their lives to each other.

Jess added a little milk to her tea and took a few minutes to sip it, looking out the window. A teenager on a bike went down the quiet street, throwing newspapers at each walkway. A few seagulls dipped and then caught the draft of the wind, their wings buffeted by the breeze as they soared, looking for any tasty morsel that might come their way. And one solitary boat pulled away from the dock, sliding effortlessly through the still cove, headed out to the bay and beyond for a day of fishing before it got too cold to do so enjoyably.

Jess couldn’t stand gazing forever. She had to get a move on or else she’d be late. She tossed the rest of her tea down the sink and checked her watch. Rick would be expecting her any minute.

He was up and waiting for her when she arrived, and he hopped in her car with a huge mug of coffee to keep him company. The radio filled the morning silence as she drove to Glen’s place, and as she turned off the interstate into Auburn’s town limits, Jess snuck a glance at Rick out of the corner of her eye. Sitting there in the morning light, he looked relaxed, calm. With a start, Jess realized she was seeing Rick completely unguarded for the first time since he’d come home. For once, there had been no fighting, no awkward pauses. It had been strangely comfortable—she hadn’t felt the need to make small talk. What was more, Jess felt safe. Content. Who would have guessed she’d ever feel that way with Rick Sullivan? She was glad now that they’d made the truce. It would make everything so much easier.

Glen’s driveway came up on the left, a wide, gravel road that wound its way to his cabin. In a matter of moments Jess and Rick were out of the car, had exchanged greetings, received the keys to the Mustang, and Jess was back in her vehicle, heading to Jewell Cove, driving behind the gorgeous vintage car.

Rick was ahead of her the whole way, and Jess was pleased he appeared to be doing just fine managing the manual shift. She blew out a breath in relief. Sometimes it amazed her how much Rick could do with his prosthetic. Even things like tying shoes were nearly impossible with one hand. It had to be a huge adjustment.

They split ways at the first stop sign in Jewell Cove; Rick went on to his house while Jess checked her watch and realized she had ten whole minutes before she was due at Shear Bliss for hair and nails. For the first time since Abby had asked her to be her maid of honor, Jess was excited and nervous for the day ahead. She’d be primped and polished and she’d walk down the aisle on Rick’s arm …

Today was going to be perfect.

*   *   *

Just before two thirty, Rick drove up the lane to Foster House and parked the car next to a catering van and a few other vehicles he assumed belonged to the staff working the reception in the garden. Driving the vintage Mustang was fun. Cars just weren’t made this way anymore. There was a substance to it that no amount of flashy accessories or convenience could replace, and as much as Rick would like to really open it up out on the highway, he was being extra careful. It was someone else’s baby he was borrowing.

He was less comfortable, however, about the tux. The collar felt too tight and he hadn’t managed to fasten the cuff of one shirt sleeve, but otherwise he’d gotten into the damn thing just fine. Rick pulled into the designated parking at the side of the house and got out of the Mustang, shutting the door with a heavy
thunk,
before making his way up the walk to the steps leading to the front door. With a snort, he thanked the stars Tom had insisted on a regular tuxedo and not something out of the Foster House attic like the girls were wearing. He could only imagine the look on Josh’s face if he’d been forced into some vintage monkey suit. The jokes would go on for years.

Abby had really poured some of the Foster cash into restoring the mansion, though Rick was pretty sure Tom had given her a good bargain on the renovations when all was said and done. The pillars and railings were perfectly white, the trim on the new windows freshly painted. All the shrubbery had been neatly trimmed—all in all it looked like a new place.

He knocked on the door using the heavy brass knocker, and it was opened shortly after by the bride herself. Rick had to admit his best friend was certainly marrying up. The floor-length dress fell in delicate swaths of ivory satin and lace, and the hairdresser had done something to Abby’s hair, making it soft and pretty around her face. It was all framed by a simple but long veil.

“You,” he said, “look beautiful.”

A smile blossomed on her face. “Thank you, kind sir.” She stepped aside. “We’re nearly ready. Come on in for a minute.”

“We don’t want to be late getting you to the church,” Rick said, stepping into the huge foyer and closing the door behind him. “I saw Tom earlier. He’s so nervous you need to show up and put him out of his misery before he ties himself in knots.”

He’d never seen his friend so keyed up. Rick had left Tom at his parents’ place, having a rose pinned to his lapel while he tapped his foot repeatedly.

“Nearly there. Jess is just putting on her shoes.” As she said it, Rick heard the
tap tap
of high heels going across the upstairs hall.

He swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous and self-conscious in the black tuxedo. Before he could think better of it, he swept his hand over his hair, smoothing it and hoping nothing was out of place.

Footsteps started down the stairs to his right. Her shoes appeared first, navy shoes with a little strap over the top of her foot and feminine hourglass heels. Then the hem of her skirt that swished with each step. Finally the rest of her came into view as she descended the last eight steps. A delicate, pale hand on the bannister, and Jess, stunning in navy satin embellished with antique lace, the shape of the dress making her look willowy and somehow both sophisticated and impossibly young. He ran a finger beneath his shirt collar, which suddenly felt very tight. Her normally natural makeup was amplified for the occasion. The heavier shadow and liner made her deep blue eyes even bluer, and her lips were shiny and begging to be kissed.

Rick blinked as his gaze clashed with hers. As if she’d ever let him close enough for him to kiss her. Though that really wasn’t the point, was it? The point was he actually wanted to. Badly. Wanted to pull her into his arms and find out if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

“What do you think?” she asked softly, turning in a circle at the bottom of the stairs. “Not bad for something stored in an attic for fifty years, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed again … why did his throat feel so tight? “You look great, Jess. You, uh, deserve a better escort than a rough old soldier.”

She frowned. “Don’t sell yourself short. After all, someone needed to drive the car.”

Talk about puffing him up and taking the wind out of his sails in one brief sentence. Rick smiled. Jess Collins might have a soft nature, but she wasn’t one to wallow in sentiment, and he liked that about her.

She came up to him, a sparkle in her eyes. “Your tie isn’t quite right,” she said quietly, and before he could react she lifted her hands and her fingers were right there, an inch away from his throat, straightening the black bow tie while the scent of her surrounded him, soft and sweet.

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice gravelly. He cleared it. “We should get going.”

“We just need our flowers. I’ll be two seconds.”

She disappeared into the dining room where two waxy-white boxes waited, holding the bouquets. Rick looked over at Abby, who was watching him with an amused expression. “So it’s like that,” she observed in an undertone, her eyes twinkling.

“What’s like what?” He played dumb, hoping that the heat crawling up his neck didn’t manifest in a blush. Had he been that obvious?

“You and Jess. You looked like you swallowed a frog when she fixed your bow tie.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that at all. I’ve known Jess since we were kids.”

Abby laughed. “If you say so.”

“You’re getting married,” he replied. “You just think everyone should be as happy as you are today.”

She came over to him and put her hand on his arm. “Everyone
should
be as happy as I am. Everyone. Even you, Rick.”

She noticed his unfastened cuff and, with gentle fingers, did it up for him. He looked down at her, feeling an unfamiliar flood of affection. “Tom’s a lucky man, Abby. You’re a good woman. A good friend.”

“Why, thank you.” She gave his lapels one last brush and stood back. Jess came out of the dining room and handed Abby a bouquet of autumn-hued flowers.

“And now we’re ready.”

Jess followed Abby out the door with Rick bringing up the rear. “Do you want this locked?” he asked, pulling the door shut.

“No, the catering people are in the garden setting up, and guests will be back here before we are. It’s fine left open.”

He caught up to them at the bottom of the stairs and went to the Mustang, opening the back door for Abby to get in. Jess slid in beside her, both girls holding their bouquets in their laps. He started the engine and gave the gas a little rev just for fun. When they laughed something stirred inside him. Had he been so far out of the social sphere that he forgot what it was like to hear someone laugh, to do something silly? He knew he’d hidden himself away, but until now he hadn’t realized how much.

He drove slowly into town, knowing they had a few extra minutes and letting them enjoy the drive. Neither seemed to mind that the top was down on the convertible and the breeze ruffled their hair. As they proceeded through a stop sign he took them down along Main Street on a whim—and proceeded to honk the horn at passersby as they crawled along to the church.

Jess leaned forward and tapped his shoulder. “Good idea,” she said behind him. “Can’t believe you thought of it.”

“It’s a nice day and an extra two or three minutes won’t hurt.”

“You’re full of surprises, Rick.”

Rick smiled at her over his shoulder, liking her praise far more than he wanted to admit to himself.

At exactly three minutes to two, the Mustang pulled up in front of the small, white church—right on time. Rick eased the car in front of the steps and cut the engine. He got out and pocketed the keys and then opened the door and offered his right hand. There was a pause while Jess hesitated, and then she put her fingers in his.

His calloused thumb pressed down on top of her fingers, as he stepped back a bit to help her out of the car. Jess met his gaze briefly, their hands still connected, and he almost jumped at the spark of attraction he felt. He wanted to hold on longer, but instead forced himself to turn away and let go. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her nervously smooth her skirt as he helped Abby from the car.

“You ready?” he asked, turning back to Jess as Abby arranged the hem of her dress.

“Yeah. You go ahead and meet Tom at the front of the church. I’ve got it from here.”

He turned to leave but her voice called him back. “Rick?”

Jess was waiting just to the side, her flowers in her hand. God, she was beautiful. A soft smile lit up her whole face. “Thanks for the lift,” she said. “And for the drive down Main.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, giving her a salute.

Then he jogged off to the back door of the church, where his friend waited.

*   *   *

Jess halted at the church door and took one last look at Abby behind her. Radiant, happy, jubilant. So very certain that she was doing the right thing. So in love, so secure.

The music started—her cue to begin her walk down the aisle. With one last smile, she turned from Abby and straightened her shoulders, made sure her bouquet was centered at her waist, not too high … she stepped onto the carpet as Gloria Henderson played the organ.

The small church was full. Jess felt every eye on her and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She looked up toward the altar and there stood Tom, looking tall and rugged and handsome in a tuxedo. And beside him, Rick, his face unsmiling, but a heat in his gaze that made her stomach flip like it was full of butterflies. It was the same feeling she’d gotten when she’d put her fingers in his outside, and earlier when they’d driven down to Auburn together.

Rick Sullivan was an attractive man, but Jess had assumed her libido would know better. She should run, not walk. Very far away and very fast. She was not equipped to take on a fixer-upper, no matter how she admired his sense of dry humor, his fantastic art, and his chiseled jawline. There was no way it would work.

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Not until she got to the front and moved to the left and the music changed. Then all eyes were on the bride as Abby stepped to the door, angelic in her great-grandmother’s dress.

For a moment Jess’s vision blurred. She blinked a few times to clear it, and discovered she wasn’t the only one getting emotional.

Her gaze fell on her mom, Meggie, sitting with Matt and Susan and Mark and Sarah on the other side. Jess smiled when Sarah threw her a discreet wink. Looking around the church, it felt like the whole town had showed up for Abby’s special day. Jess’s gaze skipped happily over the familiar faces of family and friends when one face in the crowd caused her entire body to freeze. Karen Greer looked thin and gray and wore a scarf on her head because of the chemo. The rumors about her illness all appeared to be true.