What the Heart Wants (6 page)

“We don’t have many cards left. Please allow me to finish,” she begged.

“I can’t. I really need to go.” He stood up and turned to walk away.

“Will you at least let me tell you about your last two cards?”

He stopped short of escape. Why did she insist on doing this? Had she found something in the cards that she felt he had to know? Hanging his head, he let out an impatient sigh before turning toward her.

“I don’t mean to be irritable toward you, Mom. I hope you know that. This is just too much to take in right now.”

“You don’t have to explain. The Hanged Man already warned me.”

Dylan gazed at the card she pointed to. The image of a man hanging upside down on a pole struck him as odd.

“I guess this is the part where I ask you what the card means, so lay it on me.”

“If you hang on to your fears and doubts, you will lose what you hold closest to your heart. Don’t be afraid to let someone else get close to you. Surrender to what your heart wants.”

But what if he couldn’t have what his heart wanted?

“I’ll take that into consideration,” Dylan said, forcing a smile onto his face for his mother’s benefit.

“I hope you do, because if you let go of your fears,” she said and pointed toward the last card, “your results will be rewarding. You see, this last card is the outcome. For you, it is the Two of Cups. On a spiritual level, this card means an emotional balance. But this card also represents a union of two people, a bond so powerful that you and the other person can be lost in it.

“If you heed the warning of The Hanged Man and cast your fears aside, your heart will guide you to the place you need to be. Listen to your heart, Dylan. You will get what it desires.”

Dylan’s eyes grew larger.

“Are you sure about this?”

Her nod filled him with a sense of hope.

His mother pushed her chair out and came to a stand. She wasted no time in walking toward him, hands reaching for his.

“Baby, will you tell me what’s going on now? I mean, I have a sense of what’s going on, but I want to hear it from you.”

Gazing down at his mother’s hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze before pulling back. He walked over to the large bay window overlooking the shore. The storm wreaking havoc over the beach reminded him of the dream’s effect on his mind. The waves beating against the rocks were like his dreams beating against his subconscious. Both wanted a release, but kept hitting a roadblock.

As he thought about the cards and what they represented, he tried to make sense of what it all meant. How could he get his heart’s desire if what he wanted most was a figment of his imagination—or divine intervention?

“Dylan? Please. What is it?”

He let out a long sigh before turning his head toward hers.

“It’s the angel, Mom. She’s back in my dreams …and she’s all grown up.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 4

Heaven stepped aside as Ms. Cheryl dragged a large garment bag inside the room and placed it on the hook beside the changing room. The zipper growled on its journey to the floor. Ivory lace peeked from within, grabbing Heaven’s attention. She sucked in a gasp.

As her eyes swept across the tulle fabric, the ache in her heart throbbed a little harder. Though the dress wasn’t the classic style she envisioned for her own wedding, she knew it would look fabulous on Chelsea. Especially the corseted empire waist. It would hug Chelsea’s body perfectly.

Heaven’s eyes fell to the clover-colored bridesmaid dress that lay across the settee by the dressing room. Her face heated as she imagined white silk and lace in its place.

Would she ever get the chance to wear such a beautiful garment?

The bridesmaid dress was beautiful and sexy. She might have a chance to look sexy for the first time in her life. But who would appreciate it?

No one. At least, no one that she wanted.

Like
him.

His appearance in her dreams had plagued her for months. Why couldn’t she shake him from her mind today? Maybe if she could remember more than espresso eyes and russet hair, the longing inside her heart would dissipate.

And that smile…

No one else’s smile made her feel like she was floating on air.

Chelsea’s fidgeting broke the magical trance. Like a sixteen-year-old who had just passed her driver’s exam, Chelsea lit up the room with her smile.

Time to put the daydream aside. This was Chelsea’s day. Not hers.

“You will look amazing in that dress,” Heaven said, mustering up her best smile when their eyes met.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Chelsea asked. Her eyes moved from Heaven and back to the gown. “I can’t wait to wear it.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Heaven walked to the garment bag and removed the dress. The silky softness continued to feed the longing in her heart. She released a sigh.

Not the best reaction.

She gazed up at Chelsea, noticing the smile on her face falter.

“You okay, Hev?”

“I’m fine. Just trying to grasp the reality of this.”

“You and me both. It’s my wedding, and I’m having trouble realizing that I’m about to get married. But seeing this,” Chelsea paused to touch the dress hanging across Heaven’s arm, “this makes it more real.”

“Okay, I gotta say something here,” Faith chided from behind. “Granted, it’s a pretty dress, but I thought you would at least go with a designer label.”

Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Where’s the duct tape?

“Would you shush, already?” Hope grumbled.

Heaven turned just in time to see Hope elbowing Faith in the ribs.

Finally.

What had taken Hope so long? Normally she would have smacked Faith upside the head before now.

Heaven turned to face Chelsea, hoping Faith’s rudeness hadn’t gotten the best of her, yet. Lord knows Faith was bouncing on Heaven’s last nerve.

“Oh,
Faith
,” Chelsea began, “you should know me by now. I’m not going to let wealth or social status change my way of life.”

“So you’re marrying a celebrity, but you aren’t going to have any designer clothing?” Faith flipped her hair behind her shoulder and then crossed her arms as she scowled at Chelsea.

Chelsea simply smiled. “You look really nice in the bridesmaid’s dress, Faith. Green is definitely your color.”

“
Please
, I could make a potato sack look like haute couture,” Faith snorted, “but that’s not the point. We’re talking about you. Why aren’t you taking advantage of your future husband’s wealth and buying a dress that’s going to make the paparazzi stutter?”

“Because I don’t want the paparazzi involved in this.”

Chelsea blinked away the water forming in her eyes. She grabbed Faith’s hand, drawing it to her chest. “Everyone I want at my wedding is here. My family, my friends, and my fiancé. That’s all I need.”

Heaven waited for Faith’s snarky comeback. But she was surprised when Faith’s lips turned upward. And her eyes. Were they tearing up?

Chelsea had done it, again. Brought out the best in even the worst person.

 “Speaking of your fiancé,” Heaven began as she noticed the boutique owner walking out of the room. “You were about to tell us who you are marrying before Cheryl walked up.”

“I know; I’m sorry.” Chelsea released Faith’s hand and reached for Heaven’s “My fiancé is—crap!”

“Nice name,” Faith retorted.

Chelsea’s attention shifted to the front of the boutique for a heartbeat or two. If her eyes grew any wider, they’d pop out of their sockets. She squeezed Heaven’s hand, spinning them both around as Heaven stumbled forward.

Biting her lip, Heaven tried not to shout at the pain traveling up her arm. Had Chelsea dislocated her shoulder?

Worse, she might need stitches. Chelsea’s nails were leaving indentions in her arm. Heaven was afraid to glance down for fear that blood would be trickling from open gashes.

First duct tape, now a fingernail file. Where’s the nearest Walgreen’s?

At least Heaven managed to keep the wedding dress from falling to the floor.

“What’s wrong, Sis?” Brooke asked as she moved toward them like a guard dog ready to protect its master.

“Oh, my God, Susan is here,” Chelsea whispered.

“Who?” Faith asked as she turned around.

“Susan? As in Susan Jenkins? What the hell is that witch doing here?” Brooke asked in a low voice. “Stupid paparazzi.” Brooke clenched her jaw as her eyes flitted from Heaven and Hope to Faith. “You know those reporters who run celebrities off the road just to get a picture and then write a story claiming the person was drunk? That’s Susan in a nutshell. Bitch.”

“Brooke, if she finds out about this wedding…” Chelsea couldn’t continue. She tucked one hand under her arm as she hugged her chest. The other hand massaged her temple.

“Relax, Sis,” Brooke paused, sneaking a quick peek behind them. “I’ll get rid of her.”

“Great!” Chelsea whispered. “Don’t make a big scene.”

“It’s okay, Chels,” Heaven said bouncing the gown still folded across her arm. “You’re not wearing your dress. She doesn’t know you’re getting married.”

“Welcome to L.A., Heaven. She doesn’t need proof to start a rumor. Besides, she’s not stupid. There are rumors flying around about my wedding. If she finds out, it will be front page news by tonight.”

Heaven could feel their privacy slipping away as the reporter closed in on them.

“Chels,” she said, softening her voice. “Who the heck are you marrying? Is the guy that famous?”

“I promise that once we get rid of her, I will tell you. And yes, he’s pretty famous.”

Heaven stepped away from Chelsea and turned to look at the reporter. Something about the woman’s walk spoke self-assurance. Her head held high. Piercing eyes. Even a little swagger in her step.

Would they be able to fool her?

“Well, if it isn’t Brooke and Chelsea McConnell—and company,” she paused, shooting a frigid glance at the triplets. “What a surprise it is to see you here.”

“Susan, your reputation precedes you. Have you been reduced to searching dress shops for your latest story?” Brooke hissed.

“Hardly. I’m here on official business. I’m covering the wedding of…never mind. It’s not important. Just why exactly are you and your sister here? Are the rumors true about Chelsea and—”

“Is there a problem, ladies?” Miss Cheryl’s stern voice shattered the fog of tension as she walked back into the room.

The crease in Brooke’s forehead deepened. She gave Cheryl a quick nod while daggers shot from her eyes. “This woman is a reporter who is trying to dig for her latest story. She is bothering our group.”

“Is this true?” Miss Cheryl asked as she glanced at a wide-eyed Susan.

“Only the part about me being a reporter, but I’m not bothering anyone. I recognized these women from pictures I’ve taken of them and their celebrity acquaintances. I came over to congratulate whoever is getting married.”

“It’s me,” Heaven announced.

All eyes went to her.

“You?” Susan snorted. “And who are you, exactly?”

“Heaven Lewis.”

“How interesting,” Susan answered. “I guess congratulations are in order. May I ask who the lucky guy is?”

Oops.

Maybe Heaven should have made a better plan before stepping up to the plate. But she had to get Susan’s attention off Chelsea.

Now what should Heaven say?

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Ms. Cheryl butted in, “but we have a fitting we need to finish. My schedule is tight.” The store owner’s eyes left Susan and darted to Heaven and the wedding gown in her arms. “Heaven, are you ready to try on your dress?”

Thank, God. Ms. Cheryl was playing along.

“I’m ready,” Heaven answered, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Miss Lewis, I would love to see you in your gown. I promise not to get in the way,” Susan smirked as she took a few steps back toward the archway. “In fact, I’ll wait over here.”

Maybe this would be the best way to convince Susan that Chelsea really wasn’t the one getting married.

“That’s fine with me, but will you leave after that? We really have a lot to do today.”

“Of course, I will. Thank you for allowing me to watch. I love weddings. Since I won’t be attending yours, this is a special treat for me.”

Sure, it was.

Heaven glanced around at her sisters and friends. All seemed to be playing along with the ruse. Faith handed Brooke her dress while Hope and Chelsea waited near the fitting room for Heaven.

If Heaven could pull this whole thing off, she deserved an Emmy. Her acting skills sucked.

Once she stepped inside, a breath of air rushed from her lungs when Chelsea shut the door. Heaven began to apologize, but Chelsea shook her head.

It’s okay
, Chelsea mouthed.

Slipping off her clothing, Heaven eyed the wedding dress, hoping like hell it would fit. If it didn’t, she knew Susan would catch on.

Both Ms. Cheryl and Hope helped Heaven into the dress. She shimmied the satin bodice past her thighs and waist until it covered her bra.

Chelsea helped Hope spread out the dress as Ms. Cheryl zipped it up. When the trio stepped away, Heaven gazed into the mirror.

Her heart stopped.

Even though it wasn’t her ideal dress or anything close to what she had envisioned, the image staring back at her took her breath away.

“Wow, Hev,” Chelsea said, stopping to clear her throat of emotion. “You’re beautiful.”

Heaven met her best friend’s eyes. It wasn’t jealousy Heaven saw in them. It was sincerity.

Taking a quick peek at Hope and Ms. Cheryl, she saw both were nodding their heads.

Heaven grew speechless. The silky fabric itched. Not her skin. Her soul.

If only he…

“I can’t wait to see your dress,” Susan shouted.

Would Susan pick up on Heaven’s yearning?

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Chelsea brushed Heaven’s shoulder with her hair as she leaned in and whispered, “Knock her dead.”

Heaven’s heart raced as the fitting room door swung open. Walking in the dress wasn’t as easy as she thought it would be. She took baby steps.