Wildflower Wedding

PRAISE FOR L
U
ANN M
C
LANE'S

CRICKET CREEK NOVELS

Moonlight Kiss

“A sweet love story set in the quaint Southern town of Cricket Creek. Reid makes for a sexy hero who could melt any heart.”

—Romantic Times

“Alluring love scenes begin with the simplicity of a kiss in this romantic southern charmer.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“A very charming story, and I would be more than happy to read the entire series.”

—The Bookish Babe

“McLane nails the charm, quirks, nosiness, friendliness and sense of community you'd experience in a small Southern town as you walk the streets of Cricket Creek . . . engaging and sweet characters whose chemistry you feel right from the start.”

—That's What I'm Talking About

Whisper's Edge

“This latest foray to McLane's rural enclave has all the flavor and charm of a small town where everyone knows everyone else and doesn't mind butting in when the need arises. With a secondary romance between members of the slightly older generation,
Whisper's Edge
offers a comforting read where love does “trump” insecurities, grief, and best-laid plans.”

—
Library Journal

“Visiting Cricket Creek, Kentucky, feels like coming home once again.”

—
Romantic Times

“A charming Southern romance that will keep you amused with its laugh-out-loud humor!”

—Harlequin Junkie

“Cute, funny, and full of romance.”

—Love to Read for Fun

“LuAnn McLane has a rich and unique voice that kept me laughing out loud as I read.”

—Romance Junkies

Pitch Perfect

“McLane packs secrets, sex, and sparks of gentle humor in an inviting picnic basket of Southern charm.”

—
Ft.Myers & Southwest Florida

“A delightful . . . charming tale.”

—
Romantic Times

“Entertaining [and] lighthearted.”

—Genre Go Round Reviews

Catch of a Lifetime

“I thoroughly enjoyed this amusing tale of baseball fanatics and a quiet little town that everyone falls in love with. The residents are all amusing and interesting . . . pure entertainment!”

—Fresh Fiction

“LuAnn McLane has created a delightful small-town romance that just captivates your heart and has you rooting for these charming characters. . . . I thoroughly enjoyed this romance, and I know that readers will want to spend more time with these handsome baseball players.”

—Night Owl Reviews

Playing for Keeps

“A fun tale.”

—
Midwest Book Review

“Charming, romantic . . . this new series should be a real hit!”

—Fresh Fiction

“McLane's trademark devilish dialogue is in fine form for this series.”

—
Publishers Weekly

“No one does Southern love like LuAnn McLane!”

—The Romance Dish

ALSO BY LUANN MCLANE

CONTEMPORARY ROMANCES

“Mistletoe on Main Street” in
Christmas on Main Street
anthology

Moonlight Kiss: A Cricket Creek Novel

Whisper's Edge: A Cricket Creek Novel

Pitch Perfect: A Cricket Creek Novel

Catch of a Lifetime: A Cricket Creek Novel

Playing for Keeps: A Cricket Creek Novel

He's No Prince Charming

Redneck Cinderella

A Little Less Talk and a Lot More Action

Trick My Truck but Don't Mess with My Heart

Dancing Shoes and Honky-Tonk Blues

Dark Roots and Cowboy Boots

 

EROTIC ROMANCES

“Hot Whisper” in
Wicked Wonderland
anthology

Driven by Desire

Love, Lust, and Pixie Dust

Hot Summer Nights

Wild Ride

Taking Care of Business

Wildflower Wedding

A CRICKET CREEK NOVEL

LuAnn McLane

SIGNET ECLIPSE

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

New York, New York10014

USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

penguin. com

A Penguin Random House Company

First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

Copyright © LuAnn McLane, 2014

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

ISBN 978-1-101-63834-7

PUBLISHER'S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

 

 

This book is for Stevi
e

“For Once in My Life”

Acknowledgments

I would like to take this opportunity to thank small-business owners for all of the hard work and the dedication it takes to keep the doors open. I find such joy in strolling down Main Street in a small town, eating at the local diner, trying pastries at the bakery, or shopping in a quaint boutique.

Thank you to the wonderful staff at New American Library. From the gorgeous covers to the detailed copyedits and everything in between, I couldn't ask for a better team in my corner! I want to give a special thanks to my editor, Jesse Feldman. I enjoyed working with you, and I will miss you but wish you the best of luck. A heartfelt thank-you goes to Danielle Perez for making the transition to a new editor seamless. I already love working with you, and I'm looking forward to future Cricket Creek adventures.

As always, thank you so much to my amazing agent, Jenny Bent. We have been working together for over ten years, and I have enjoyed the journey.

Thank you ever so much to my readers. Your support and encouragement mean the world to me and keep my fingers on the keyboard. My wish is to bring a smile to your faces and a happy ending to your hearts.

Top Shelf

“J
UST WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS I THINKING WHEN I PUT
those up there?” Gabby frowned at the neatly stacked spools of ribbon stored up out of her reach. Tapping her cheek, she glanced around her flower shop for her step stool and grinned at the row of garden gnomes staring back at her. “Don't look at me like that. I know I need to be more organized.” Gabby walked past potted plants and ducked beneath hanging ferns before pausing to straighten a display of dainty African violets. Sighing, she inhaled a deep breath of floral-scented air, then remembered that she'd taken her step stool upstairs to her apartment. “I need to start carrying the doggone thing around like a backpack,” she grumbled. At her five feet three, everything seemed just beyond her reach.

With her hands fisted on her hips, Gabby angled her head at the shelf. Her stomach took the opportunity to growl in protest of missing lunch, but she'd ordered a pepperoni pizza from the new pizza parlor a little while ago, so it should be delivered shortly. She hoped the pizza was good. Cricket Creek was known for some pretty wonderful restaurants but had been sorely lacking in great pizza. Although the dining area of the restaurant wasn't officially open, River Row Pizza had started to offer pickup and delivery on a limited basis. But at this point even so-so pizza would do.

“Maybe I can get it.” Biting down on her bottom lip, Gabby stepped forward and reached for the elusive pink ribbon she needed to finish the Get Well Soon flower arrangement she'd been working on for the past half hour. When her middle finger touched the spool, she rose to her tiptoes and stretched forward as far as she could go. Wiggling her fingers, she inched the spool forward until it finally toppled over and bonked her on the head before hitting the floor. “Yes!” Feeling victorious over being vertically challenged, she bent down and picked up the elusive item. “What? Red?”

With a little growl Gabby slapped the red ribbon onto the table and then looked around for something to stand upon. Spotting a wooden crate, she pushed it over beneath the shelf. After putting one foot on the lid, she pressed downward, testing the strength. “Should hold me,” Gabby mumbled even though she knew from personal experience those three little words might come back to haunt her, but she decided if she worked fast she'd be okay.

Inhaling a deep breath, Gabby stepped onto the crate. She felt the wooden slats give just a little, so she quickly grabbed the prize, but as she turned to step down the bell dinged over the door, drawing her attention.

Oh my . . .

Gabby's gaze passed over a pizza box and zoomed in on a snug-fitting red T-shirt hugging the contours of a very nice chest. Bulging biceps stretched sleeves that exposed a teasing glimpse of armband tribal tattoos. Her gaze traveled up to a strong jaw shaded by sexy stubble, full lips, a straight nose, and eyes the color of decadent dark chocolate. Nearly black hair fell across Pizza Guy's forehead and brushed the top of his shoulders in a messy but sexy just-out-of-bed way. Hot damn.

“You ordered pizza?”

“Yes.” Wait . . . recognition sliced through her ogling. She knew him. “Reese . . . Reese Parker?”

“You guessed right, but I go by Marino now, Mom's maiden name.” He grinned slightly and nodded while he walked closer and placed the cardboard box and a white bag onto the counter. “Hi, Gabby. My uncle said you own this place?”

“I . . . I do.” Gabby nodded, clutching the ribbon harder.

“Wow.” Reese glanced around and his grin widened. “I'm impressed.”

“Thank you. Cricket Creek has been growing by leaps and bounds lately. Things are finally looking up.”

“I noticed.”

Gabby could only manage a nod. Reese had been the hottest guy in high school, oozing edgy, bad-boy danger. Although Gabby and Reese had played together as children, she'd steered clear as a teenager but admired him from afar, a difficult task since they'd grown up in the same trailer park located on the outskirts of town.

“Well, good for you, Gabby.”

She cleared her throat, not really ready to explain how she'd come to own the shop. “I ran into your mom up in town a few weeks ago and she said the guy who was opening the pizza parlor was her brother, but she said you were staying in Brooklyn.”

“You asked about me?”

“Well . . . of course,” Gabby admitted, but felt a bit flustered. She tucked a lock of her short blond hair behind her ear. “So you've moved back?”

Reese nodded. “I had some unfinished business in Brooklyn, but yeah, I'm back.” When Reese walked closer her heart did a little tap dance in her chest. “You always did love flowers,” he commented with another look around.

Gabby's heart skipped a beat. Really? Reese remembered that about her after all of these years? “Yes,” she answered softly, and his gaze came back to land on her face. “It all started with seedlings in milk cartons at school and I was hooked.”

He nodded. “Yeah, you helped bring green beans back to life or I would have gotten a big fat F.”

Gabby chuckled. “Oh, I remember that now. You overwatered, I think.”

“Hey, I'm really sorry about your mother.” Reese's dark eyebrows edged closer together and with a tilt of his head he gave her a look of such sympathy that her breath caught.

“How did you know?” Gabby asked, and was a little surprised at his gentle demeanor. The last time she'd seen Reese he was a troubled teenager who was hell-bent on self-destruction.

“My mom told me. Musta been rough.” His voice held a hint of Brooklyn, not surprising since he'd been living there for the past eight years.

“Yeah.” Gabby swallowed hard. “I sure do miss her.”

Reese stepped even closer until he was near enough that she could have reached out and touched him. Because she remained on the box, he had to tilt his head up but just a little bit. “You doin' okay?”

Gabby nodded. “She's been gone over two years. Time heals. Now I can think of Mama and smile instead of cry,” she replied, but when she curved her lips to demonstrate, she felt the corners of her mouth tremble. “Most of the time, anyway.”

“I remember how much you and your mom loved to garden.” Reese shook his head. “I was always amazed how you took that little patch of earth and produced so many flowers and vegetables.”

“You remember all that?” Gabby asked, and then felt a blush warm her cheeks.

“I remember a lot about you.” Reese gave her a look she couldn't quite read, but it made her pulse continue to race.

“Like what?” Gabby hadn't meant to voice the question, but there it was, hanging between them. She had a habit of blurting things out that she should keep to herself.

“Like how you would sing off-key while pulling weeds.”

“I do not sing off-key!” But she had to grin. She still loved to sing or hum while she worked.

“And how you'd always had a streak of dirt on your cheek. Like now.”

“I do?” Horrified, she rubbed her cheeks.

“Gotcha.” He laughed but then tilted his head. “I'll never forget how you stood up for me,” Reese continued but without laughing this time.

Her chin came up. “You were innocent.” Her simple statement carried some heat. The Riverbend Trailer Park kids were often blamed for things without any evidence and sometimes called river rats by a few people behind their backs.

“You sure about that?” he asked with a slight twist of his lips, but something flashed in his eyes that told another story.

“You might have been a troublemaker but not a vandal or thief. You didn't steal anything from the concession stand.” Gabby shuddered at the memory of Reese being accused and then slammed to the ground by the big old mean sheriff, Bo Mason. She'd been watering plants in the high school greenhouse when she heard the commotion and ran out to see what was going on . . .

•   •   •

“Caught you red-handed, son!” Bo Mason shouted before pressing a knee to Reese's back, so he couldn't get up.

“Doing what?” Reese's voice was muffled from having his face smashed against the concrete.

“Stealing from the concession stand.”

“I didn't take anything! Let me up.”

“You're a liar and a thief. You ain't goin' nowhere till I git the truth outta ya. Now, where did you stash the cash you stole from the drawer?”

“He didn't do anything!” Gabby shouted as she jogged forward, seeing red when the big sheriff added some weight to his knee planted in the small of Reese's back. “Get off him!”

“And just who are you, missy?”

“I'm Gabby Goodwin. President of the gardening club.” She was the only member, but he didn't need to know that. “I was watering tomato plants in the greenhouse and I saw Reese picking up trash in the parking lot. He was nowhere near the concession stand.” Gabby pointed in the opposite direction.

“Picking up trash? Ha, Good Samaritan, are ya?” The sheriff looked down at Reese and let out another laugh before looking back at Gabby. “Ya gotta come up with something better to save your boyfriend here.”

“Reese had detention,” Gabby answered stiffly. “For disrupting class. I know because I was in the classroom when he got in trouble.” She tilted her head toward the Dumpster. “Reese just put his plastic bags in there if you want to look.”

The sheriff looked unhappy that he was being challenged. “If you didn't take the money, then who did, son?”

“How do I know?” Reese answered, and was rewarded with a harsh tap to his head.

“'Cause of the crowd you run with. Cough up a name.”

“I'm going to get Mr. Davenport if you don't let him go right this minute,” Gabby said sternly even though her knees were shaking. To her relief the sheriff pushed up to his feet. “You can't harass students like this.”

“Yeah, well, I got my eye on you, Reese Parker. Ain't like you haven't been in trouble before,” he added before lumbering off toward his cruiser.

•   •   •

“Bo Mason,” Gabby muttered at the memory.

“That old coot still the town sheriff?”

“Unfortunately. I don't know who votes for him. It sure isn't me,” Gabby assured him hotly. Reese chuckled. “You were always a quiet little thing until something got you riled up. Then you'd better run and duck for cover.”

Gabby shrugged. “My mama taught me to stand up for what you believe in. I believed in your innocence.”

Reese dipped his head slightly. “Well, thank you. Not many people did,” he said, and then looked as if he wished he hadn't gone down memory lane. But then his cocky grin returned.

“You can come down off your soapbox now.” He gestured toward the crate.

“Oh.” She wobbled a little bit and was about to step down, but his gaze locked in on her mouth just long enough for Gabby to wonder if he also remembered . . .

The kiss
.

The kiss that happened later that same night remained burned into her seventeen-year-old memory, and she unfortunately used her bone-melting response as a measuring stick for all other kisses afterward, all of them coming up short. Maybe it was because she'd fantasized about kissing Reese from the time she'd turned about thirteen. Or perhaps it was because he represented the forbidden bad-boy fruit her mother knew about firsthand and repeatedly warned Gabby against.

Maybe the reaction was something more
slid into her brain. She tried to mentally shove the thought away, but it refused to budge. Would kissing Reese feel the same way now that she was beyond teenage hormones and infatuation with the resident leather jacket?

Curiosity coupled with desire had her swallowing hard and the spool of ribbon slipped from her fingers, landing with a thump and rolling away unnoticed by either of them.

As if he'd read her thoughts, Reese's eyes suddenly sparked in silent challenge. Gabby had been one of the few girls who refused to fall at his feet, even after the epic kiss. Well, the sexy bad boy might be back in town, but Gabby was striving hard to make something of herself in the community and she wasn't about to risk her reputation by falling into Reese's arms . . . arms that were suddenly reaching toward her. Oh. Well, maybe just this once . . .

“Can I help up you down?” He angled his head sideways toward the counter. “Your pepperoni with mushrooms and extra cheese is going to get cold.”

Great, so she'd been reading Reese all wrong. Wow, he must find her doe-eyed longing quite amusing. With a swift intake of breath, she raised her hands to smack his offer away, but she suddenly heard the sound of splintering wood. When the lid started caving in, Gabby yelped and then lunged at Reese, tipping the box forward. Surprise registered in his eyes, but he caught her.

Gabby flung her arms around Reese's neck, and when he stumbled backward, she went with him, her toes dragging across the floor as if they were suddenly doing a tango dance move. Reese swerved slightly to avoid a colorful display of tulips and then ducked to miss a fat green fern suspended from the ceiling. He clipped a rack of Get Well cards, spinning the display and sending a few fluttering to the floor before it came to a stop between two tall tin pails packed with cheerful sunflowers that seemed to be watching their little dance with amusement.

Reese gave her a lopsided grin. “I always knew you wanted to throw yourself at me.”

“I didn't
throw
myself at you!”

Reese raised his eyebrows. “Coulda fooled me.”

“I was in . . . peril,” she sputtered. Really? Who said peril? Gabby grimaced. “You know, the splintered wood could have . . . hurt me.” Okay, probably not since she was wearing jeans.

“Uh-huh.” Laughter twinkled in his eyes.

“Let me go!”

“Um, you're the one wrapped around me like kudzu.”

“Well, you have your hands on my . . . my
derriere
.” Dear God, whose vocabulary was she channeling? Scarlett O'Hara?