Buch lesen: «The Bridal Bouquet»

To my wonderful friends Tiffany and Christian.

Thanks for the inspiration, Christian. Your stories really lit a fire under me.

Contents

COVER

BACK COVER TEXT

INTRODUCTION

Dear Reader

TITLE PAGE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

KADY LAWRENCE DODGED the raucous wedding party eagerly heading for the reception-bound vehicles idling in the parking lot. Now that the photographer was concentrating solely on romantic bride-and-groom shots, Kady could transport the floral arrangements from the beach ceremony to the Grand Cypress Hotel ballroom.

Her feet sank into the cool, smooth sand, her flats keeping a minimum of the sugary grains from shifting into her shoes and tickling her toes. The sun shone bright on this seasonably cool January day, making this postcard-perfect weather in Cypress Pointe, Florida. The azure-blue sky played backdrop to fluffy, scuttling clouds above. A bride’s dream come true, she thought. She glimpsed the couple staring into each other’s eyes, the crystalline waters of the Gulf of Mexico a stunning vista in the background.

A brisk wind had whipped through during the ceremony, rustling the skirts of the bridesmaids’ dresses. But the bride lifted her face to the sky and laughed, welcoming the heady bluster with unbridled delight. The air settled after the brief swirl, but the gulf waters continued to churn, a vivid reminder of the natural elements surrounding them.

While the couple laughed and enjoyed their special day, Kady’s thoughts ran more along the lines of asking the photographer if she could place some of his wedding prints on display in her family’s flower shop. She had three goals in life—number one, to make The Lavish Lily the one-stop floral shop for brides and all bridal-related events. Working with fellow wedding professionals could only propel her dream forward.

Her other goals fed off the first—upgrade the family flower shop and win the wedding-bouquet category at the annual florist convention this year. Goals she was determined to fulfill, no matter what roadblocks stood in her way.

The late morning ceremony had been performed on a wide wooden platform situated directly on the beach, with rows of bow-festooned chairs lined up for the guests. On either end of the platform were waist-high white pillars, a beautiful flower arrangement placed on each for the ceremony.

Kady approached the first arrangement, sinking her nose into the fragrant collection. She adored the scent of fresh flowers, never tiring of the sweet aroma that touched her soul. Instead of going with a dozen traditional red roses, the bride had requested all white to go with her lovely gown, which was complemented by a red waist sash. Kady had designed a combination of gardenias, snow-white dahlias and white larkspur for height. Baby’s breath was nestled throughout, the arrangement set in crystal containers and each accented with a bright red bow. Quite stunning, if she did say so herself.

“Kady,” Nellie, the bride, called out as her new husband took her hand to help her step from the platform onto the red aisle runner. “The flowers are gorgeous. I didn’t think you’d be able to create exactly what I wanted.”

Why did everyone doubt her? She prided herself on being a competent floral designer and took each and every arrangement to heart. She knew from the beginning which flowers would please the bride and her mother, then sold them on her vision.

“Wait until you get to the reception.”

Nellie beamed. “We’re headed there now. See you there.”

Kady nodded. “Just let me get these arrangements into the van. I’m delivering them myself.”

“You are staying for the party, aren’t you?”

Kady had been surprised at the impromptu invitation the last time she’d met with the bride. Normally she placed the flowers and other reception decor the bride had ordered, then left. But when Nellie asked her to join in the reception, she’d been honored.

“Thanks. That’s so nice of you but I’ve just got a lot on my plate right now.”

“I have a bunch of single cousins...” The bride left her suggestion open-ended, trying to wheedle Kady into changing her mind.

“I’m not in the market for a guy.” Too many things to focus on at the moment, like pouring her time and energy into marketing the shop to brides. She had future weddings lined up and needed to prove to her parents that birthdays and funerals weren’t the only ways to sustain their business.

Besides, she wasn’t dressed for the occasion, even though she always looked appropriate when making a delivery. Today, she’d matched a fitted coral blouse with a flowing, patterned skirt. Pretty, but definitely not wedding attire. She’d pulled her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way while she worked.

“Come on. Every girl dreams of her special day,” the bride teased.

“Not me.”

Kady had never jumped on the crazy-bride bandwagon. Not after falling for a guy and having had him stomp on her heart. Instead, she was content to design flowers and hope her parents someday saw the talented woman she had grown into, rather than the aimless youth she’d once been.

“Let’s go, babe,” Dean, the groom, said. Nellie waved and the couple headed for their limousine.

It took three trips and fifteen minutes for Kady to get the flowers and pillars secured in the van before she set off for the reception. As she drove, she reviewed her mental checklist. She’d placed centerpieces and additional arrangements around the ballroom in advance of everyone arriving. The extra bridal bouquet, to be tossed into the group of single women at some point during the party, was waiting on a side table. Kady had even come up with what she dubbed a bouquet-docking station, a safe place for the bride and attendants to store their bouquets so they didn’t get lost or ruined during the reception. Satisfied, Kady stepped on the gas. The sooner she delivered these ceremony flowers, the sooner she’d be done.

She’d just parked in the hotel lot when her cell phone rang. She swiped the screen and frowned. Her brother’s number.

“Hey, Will.”

“What time will you be back at the shop?” Right to the point, as always.

Kady held back a groan. Her older brother, the “doer of no wrong,” checking in on her. She was thirty years old, for Pete’s sake. When would her family stop thinking of her as a screwup? Okay, so years ago she’d gotten sidetracked and forgotten to take the work van to get an oil change. And yeah, yeah, the engine had blown. And yes, she’d botched a big order from the wholesaler one time when she’d been in her Save the Manatee phase and spent more time gathering names on petitions than doing inventory.

Always curious by nature, her mind switched gears with each new adventure calling her name. The more unique the challenge, the more Kady embraced it and stored away the experience, sure she’d later use the knowledge she’d gained. Her parents, spending long hours running the flower shop, were either too busy or frustrated to redirect their inquisitive daughter. Especially when Kady’s behavior continued well into her twenties.

It wasn’t until she’d gone to live with her beloved aunt Cynthia, after her parents had thrown up their hands at her behavior, that Kady began to focus. Her aunt, who designed and hand-made her own jewelry, stumbled upon the artistic nature in her and began to tap into Kady’s energies. She encouraged Kady to assist her and Kady quickly realized she loved being creative. Her openness to so many different ideas made her excel at designing. And renewed her love for the floral shop. Merging her two passions together, she decided, The Lavish Lily would become her destiny.

For three years now she’d been full-time at the shop. She’d slowly taken over designing duties, making most of the deliveries and manning the front counter. No mishaps. No mistakes. So what if it had taken her a while to figure out what she wanted to do with her talent and abilities, traveling down a twisty, turning path instead of being on the straight and narrow. She’d made it here, finding purpose in her life. Why couldn’t her family credit the change in her?

“I’m at the hotel. Let me get the delivery inside, make sure everything else is in place. Then I’ll be there.”

“How long?”

“Not sure. I’ll call you when I leave.”

“We’re waiting.”

Kady grimaced as she ended the call. She hated these family meetings. No good ever came from them, especially for her. Her parents had been acting oddly lately and Will, an accountant who didn’t have the least interest in flowers, was hanging around the shop all the time. Yes, he had a share in the family business, but he’d never been involved with the day-to-day running of it. And had even been MIA for a long while. Why show up now?

She’d ignored their abrupt silences whenever she walked into the place, tried not to speculate why, lately, she alone worked the long hours filling wedding orders. Something was up, and by her brother’s hounding, she figured it would be revealed this afternoon.

Brushing off the useless foreboding, she went to the back of the van to remove the first arrangement. Will would do what he wanted and her parents would be fine with it. All she could do was concentrate on getting new customers, brides specifically, and grow the business. Then maybe her parents would look at her with pride, like they did at Will.

Loud chatter spilled from the banquet room as Kady entered. The place was filled with milling guests congratulating the newly married couple. A few restless children raced around the dance floor, ignoring their mother’s sharp tones imploring them to calm down. The DJ played soft music while people mingled. Lunch would be served soon if the delicious aromas wafting from the kitchen were any indication. Her tummy growling, Kady went about her job, blending in, while checking one last time to make sure all the arrangements she’d placed earlier were in good shape.

At the center of each table, white pillar candles flickered in tall hurricane glasses. The same floral theme—simple white flowers cascading around the glass—made a dramatic effect against the deep red table linen. The menu, printed in raised gold script, rested upon milk-white plates. The crystal glasses sported gold rims. The utensils, wrapped in a red napkin circled with a white-and-gold ring, tied the table ensemble together.

Subdued and elegant. Just what the bride dreamed of. Exactly what the wedding planner and Kady had delivered.

On her last trip with the final arrangement, Kady made her way around the far wall intent on the gift table. Only a few steps from her destination, she was suddenly under siege by a half-dozen playing children. She went into football mode, dodging first to the left, then to the right, spinning to avoid a rushing child as she held on tightly to the container of flowers. After evading the possible disaster, she grinned, impressed by her running-back skills. Who knew she was so light on her feet? The path clear now, she moved forward until she stepped on an abandoned toy left behind by one of the kids. Her ankle turned. Bracing herself, she securely locked her arms around the crystal container, holding on for dear life. But instead of going down, strong hands gripped her upper arms and kept her from falling.

Relieved, she looked over her shoulder, glimpsing the most unusual pair of blue eyes she’d ever seen. Actually, blue wasn’t entirely correct. A hint of silver turned them an unusual shade of metallic gray. The man’s somber expression matched the concern she read there and his very handsome face garnered her full attention.

“Steady there.” His husky voice spoke close to her ear, sending shivers over her skin.

Rattled, she set down the flowers and turned to face her rescuer. “Thanks. That could have been a disaster.”

“Then it’s a good thing I happened to be nearby.” A half grin curved his lips.

Kady’s heart thumped in her chest. Talk about fantastic timing. She sneaked a peek at him. Yeah, she was going with not spilling the flowers to explain her racing pulse.

Mr. Awesome Eyes narrowed said eyes and stared down at one of the boys, perhaps the ringleader. “You should take the kids outside, Mikey. Otherwise I might have to get your daddy after you.”

Mikey paled before nodding. “I will. Please don’t tell Dad.”

“Then quit running around when your mother asked you to stop.”

The inherent command in his deep tone brooked no disobedience. Something told her she wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of this man.

The youngster rounded up the remaining children and they scurried out to the pool area before heading off the patio to a wide manicured lawn at the side of the hotel. Plenty of free space to run unchecked out there.

The stranger focused on her. “Bored kids and distracted parents. Not the best combination at a wedding reception.”

“No.” She knew she should leave now, get back to the shop, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot. His cologne enveloped her. She tried to sort out the elements in the spicy fragrance like she always did when defining new scents, but his nearness made her jittery. Tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, she tried not to squirm.

The stranger stuck out his hand. “Dylan.”

She accepted his warm, strong grip, surprised by a zing of awareness. “Kady.”

He held on to her hand a few seconds longer than necessary. In that time, she noticed more about him. Tall. Hair razor-cut. Military? Even with the short look, she noticed a hint of gray peppering his temples. Tanned olive skin, as though he spent many hours outdoors. He filled the black suit paired with a charcoal shirt and red tie to perfection, his broad shoulders straight, his lean build steady.

She gulped. “I should probably go.”

“You just got here.”

“Only to deliver the flowers.”

He tilted his head, his strange-colored eyes regarding her with unwavering scrutiny. “You’re the most fascinating person at this party.”

Fascinating? That was new. Why not throw sublime into that description, she thought, and hid a laugh. Still, she’d take it. Compliments had been few and far between lately.

“Um, thanks. I think.”

“The way you saved those flowers? Classic football move. You got my attention right away.”

He grinned, his serious expression lifting. Her breath caught at the transformation. When somber, he was handsome. Grinning, he was downright gorgeous. Okay, who was she kidding? She was way out of her element right now.

Before she could remind him she’d saved the flowers thanks to him, he was speaking again.

“I was debating a cheesy line about how your beauty struck me from across the room. Guess you’re a bit too savvy than to fall for that.”

“Yeah. Every woman hates to be called beautiful.”

He chuckled. “In that case, it’s true. I did notice you as soon as you came through the door.”

“It was either that or the commotion from the kids.”

“Nah. I really did notice you.”

What should she say now? She felt her face flush and hoped beyond measure her cheeks didn’t light up like a neon sign flashing her guilty pleasure. How often did a good-looking guy notice her from across the room? Ah...never?

“Despite your line, I am glad you were here when I tripped.”

“I live to serve.”

She half expected a formal bow, like the staid British lords she read about in Regency novels. “So... I need to get going.”

“You can’t stay a few more minutes?”

She wanted to. More than anything. “I’m busy. Besides, this looks like a family reunion as well as a reception. I don’t want to overstep.”

“To be honest, that’s kind of why I’d like you to stay. My cousin is the bride, so yeah, this is a reunion. I haven’t seen most of my relatives for a few years and I’m all talked out. If my grandmother asks me one more time when I’m getting married, then points me to one of my cousin’s single friends, I may lose it.”

“Gee, that’s tough. Dealing with people who love you.”

He had the grace to smile disparagingly. “I’m a rotten grandson.”

They both chuckled. Despite his complaining, she heard the affection in his tone for his grandmother. “So why haven’t you seen your family in a while, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“My job, mostly.”

A waiter passed by, carrying a tray of sparkling champagne in crystal flutes. When he stopped, Dylan removed two, handing one to Kady.

“Oh, no. I shouldn’t. I’m working.”

“How about a quick toast. To new friends.” He clinked his glass to hers.

“To new friends,” she agreed.

She took a sip, noticing Dylan did the same. She was glad to see he didn’t knock it back like some of the party animals she’d run across at other receptions.

They stood in awkward silence. Finally, Kady placed her glass on the table beside her. “So, it was nice meeting you.”

“Maybe we’ll run into each other?”

“Are you staying in Cypress Pointe long?”

“Depends on the coin toss.”

“Excuse me?”

His mouth curved at the corners. “Inside family joke. Sorry.”

She opened her mouth to ask him to elaborate, when an older gentleman approached Dylan and started a conversation. Boxed into the corner, she couldn’t leave until one of the men moved. After a few long minutes of trying not to eavesdrop, she cleared her throat. Dylan glanced her way.

“Uncle Frank, give me a few?”

Uncle Frank looked at Kady, then back to Dylan, and winked. “Sure, son.”

Dylan slanted her an amused glance. “See.”

“I get it now. Is your entire family comprised of matchmakers?”

“Yep. And I have three brothers who are also single. We try to stay low-key during family events. Keeps the meddlers from focusing on us.”

“So you’re saying I actually rescued you?”

His stunning eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, I’d say you had.”

“Rescuer and floral designer.” She pantomimed a motion of wiping her hands. “My work is done here.”

Dylan laughed, his eyes filled with...admiration?

“Sure I can’t convince you to stick around?”

“Sorry. I have a meeting I can’t miss.”

“Too bad. With you, this reception might have been fun.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

At his wink, her heart thumped.

“Anytime.”

* * *

DYLAN MATTHEWS WATCHED Kady as she weaved through the crowd, stopped to hug the bride and then exited through the same doors she’d first walked through. He wasn’t kidding when he dropped the line about noticing her from across the room. She’d caught his eye at first glance and he was immediately fascinated.

Was it because the light draped her just the right way when she’d entered the room? What else explained how his gaze lit on her pretty face? He rubbed a hand over his cleanly shaven jaw. He’d been cooped up far too long. That would explain the unusually poetic notions rummaging around in his head.

As she’d drawn closer, he noticed she was tall, not as tall as his six feet, but it wouldn’t take much effort for their eyes to meet. Her brown hair was pulled into a ponytail, with little fly-away strands framing her face. She’d smiled, her cheeks flushed as she went about her business.

When he’d braced her arms with his hands to keep her from falling, he’d caught a whiff of something fruity as he pulled her close. Raspberry? Her expression, when she turned, was shaken but grateful. Then he got up close to her honey-brown eyes. A jolt seared his gut and he hesitated letting go of the connection.

When was the last time he’d recognized such a buzz of attraction? A long time, if he was honest. And he always tried to be honest with himself—good, bad or otherwise.

Best of all, she traded quips like a pro. Didn’t miss a beat. Had to be the best quality about her. After talking with her, he realized he’d enjoyed every minute.

Something he hadn’t experienced in quite a while.

With a sigh, he set down his glass beside Kady’s. Too bad she took off. He would have liked to get to know her better. Her good humor had lifted some of the darkness that hung over him.

Before he had a chance to dwell on the past, his older brother, Derrick, joined him.

“Mom’s worried about you.”

“When is she not worried?” Dylan countered.

“When we’re all at home under her roof where she can keep an eye on us.”

“She does realize we’re grown men, right?”

“She’s a mother. According to her, we’ll always be her babies.”

Dylan shuddered. “Heaven save us.”

“I saw you talking to a woman. Did Gram send her over?”

“No.”

“You scare her off with your brooding Heathcliff imitation?”

“No, she had to work. She’s the florist who supplied the flowers for the wedding.”

“Huh. Nice job.”

“Since when do you notice flowers?”

“Since I’m trying to be evolved.” Derrick looked to the closest table where Kady had left an arrangement. “Hey, these are pretty.”

Dylan laughed. “Evolved, hmm?”

“Complaints from the last two women I dated.”

“And you’re listening to their suggestions? After they dumped you? I’m impressed.”

Derrick shrugged his shoulders as if brushing off Dylan’s jab. “So how are you doing? Leg okay?”

At the mention of his injury, Dylan reached down and rubbed the back of his thigh where the exit wound still seemed raw. The gunshot damage had taken longer to heal than he’d hoped. On the bullet’s journey through his thigh, it nicked the femur and splintered the bone. Multiple surgeries removed the fragments. Repairing structural damage had laid him up. Not that he was complaining. If the bullet had hit his femoral artery, it would have been lights out. Physical therapy had finished two weeks ago, but the ache still haunted him.

Besides the physical pain, there was the emotional as well. A constant reminder of whom he’d lost. A partner and a good friend. The grim reality Kady had eclipsed a few minutes ago returned with a vengeance. The constant enemy who never left his soul.

“I’m fine.”

“Not true. I saw you favoring your leg when we walked into the hotel. Too much activity today?”

“Since when is sitting at the beach and walking into a building too much activity?”

“When you’re recovering from a gunshot wound.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated through clenched teeth.

Derrick held his hand up in defense. “Hey, man. If you say so.”

He wasn’t fine. Not by a long shot. But he wouldn’t burden Derrick, or his other brothers, and especially not his mother, with his problems. The burden and the guilt were his and his alone to carry.

When Dylan started as a special agent for the DEA ten years ago, he’d gotten into a few tight spots. Some moments had even been dangerous, since he went after guys who would rather shoot first and run later. He was relentless when pursuing dealers who put drugs on the streets. His good fortune finally came to an end when he ticked off the wrong guy.

He and his partner, Eddie, had spent many months in Miami planning to cut off the pipeline of a major dealer who didn’t appreciate them gumming up his operation. Esposa was an especially tenacious criminal, moving operations whenever he and Eddie got a lead on his location. They’d played cat and mouse for so long, Dylan wasn’t sure if he’d ever arrest this guy. He made headway by securing an informant within Esposa’s organization. Every time the creep turned around, Dylan was right on him. But with that success, Dylan had made an enemy—an enemy who wanted him out of the picture permanently. Here Dylan was still breathing, while Eddie’s wife and son grieved the man they’d loved.

Six months. Six long, hard months recovering from the wound. He had survived. Eddie had taken a fatal bullet. The shot meant for Dylan. Nothing could make him forget that fact. And nothing would stop him until the shooter paid.

Except that he was on desk duty at the division office for the foreseeable future. He was only thirty-five. Was his career over?

His jaw tensed as he thought about his fate, when his brother interrupted.

“Heads up, bro. I overheard Mom talking to Aunt Betty.”

Derrick stared at Dylan, waiting. His brother loved to draw out a moment.

“And?”

“The florist convention is next week.”

Dread immediately gripped Dylan. “How did we not know this?”

“Because Mom lulled us into a false sense of complacency. Since she hasn’t mentioned it, our guards were down,” Derrick replied. “She’s sneaky like that.”

Jasmine Matthews loved her boys. Enough to guilt or con them into doing her bidding and not feeling the least bit of remorse.

“To make matters worse, the convention is at this very hotel. I’m sure her evil plan is to get one of us to agree to stay since we already have rooms here.”

For a man who didn’t panic over much, Dylan’s fight-or-flight response kicked in. “We gotta get out of this.”

Every year since their father died, their mother guilted her sons into attending the convention with her. Since she usually won some award, she claimed she needed a date to the banquet. Dylan had lucked out of this duty for five years now, but he was on borrowed time.

Belatedly he understood why his mother hadn’t made a fuss about not supplying the flowers for his cousin’s wedding. For the most part, she created arrangements for all the family affairs. He assumed she hadn’t done so this time because of the distance, since she lived in Cocoa Beach, on the other side of the state from Cypress Pointe. Although a very capable woman, she would have had to work with a local florist due to the logistics of the ceremony and reception. Now he realized she had a much greater goal in mind.