A Moment of Bliss (25 page)

“Jack loves you too and it's okay to be scared, but you go find him right now and you marry him anyway. Don't let your fear and insecurity cause you to lose him.”

Whitney took a deep breath. “But . . . what if—”

“No. No what-if, you go talk to him now.” She sounded more like herself when she was trying to close a deal, except this time she had real conviction behind it, not just a front.

“Then you have to go with me. To find him.”

“This should be a private—”

Whitney grabbed Madison's forearm, squeezing. “Please. You have to come with me, at least until I find him. I'll talk to him, but I can't approach him alone. I'll back out.”

“Okay.” Madison patted her hand. “Let's go find him.” Then she could find Roark, and hope he wouldn't let her back out either.

H
e almost plowed into them as he barreled through the portico in search of Madison.

Whitney stood there, bedraggled in an oversized coat, Madison by her side, staring at him, one of the inn's quilts clutched in her hands.

“Have you seen Jack?” Whitney asked first.

“Yeah, he's . . . come on, he's inside.” He led them over to Jack, Madison eerily still when they reached the great room.

Jack looked up and the four of them stayed frozen that way, until finally Madison cleared her throat, encouraging Whitney with a hand on her arm.

“Go on.” Madison pointed to the chair closest to Jack.

Whitney hesitated. “Is . . . is it okay if I talk to you for a second?” she asked Jack.

He nodded, watching her sit down.

They stared at each other in a painful silence, until Madison spoke up. “Whitney has something she'd like to say.”

Jack studied Whitney, not a trace of resentment or anger on his face, but it still took him reaching over and touching her hand for her to speak.

“I'm sorry that I said us sharing a life would be the biggest mistake anyone could make.”

Jack flinched, pain in the fine lines around his eyes.

“It's . . . that's not at all true. Not in the way I said it.” Whitney slid toward the edge of her seat, closer to Jack. “I meant it's a huge mistake for
you
to get stuck with me. I ran off because I didn't want you to be stuck with me. Because I know how I am and . . .” She looked to Madison, and Madison nodded.

“And I'm scared,” she said.

Jack sat forward too, holding her hand in both of his. “I know. I know how you are too, remember?”

“But what if I'm not enough, what if you only think you love me, but end up hating me later? You deserve someone who isn't so messed up.”

Roark's gaze clashed with Madison's, and he refused to look away.

“I deserve you. I want
you
,” Jack said.

Madison stared back. “Can we . . . ?” She tilted her head toward the veranda.

Roark nodded and strode toward her.

“We need to talk,” she said.

The wash of relief that came over Roark came with anxiety right on its heels. She might only want to remind him that things were over. That she was right after all. That she'd fixed things with the bride and groom and he had no business in Whitney and Jack's business. That she'd never needed him for any of this and he was tromping on toes, as usual.

They stepped out onto the veranda, the early morning air a cold slap in the face. She wandered to the banister, and Roark followed.

Her shoulders curled in as she folded her arms around the quilt, trembling.

“Here.” Roark eased the quilt from her hands and put it around her shoulders. “You mind?” He held an edge up to join her because she wasn't the only one shivering.

They pulled it tight around them, holding it closed in the front.

“I'm . . . I'm sorry I didn't tell you about how much Honeywilde needed this wedding.” It was the first among many things he needed to tell her.

“I know.” She shook her head. “But it's okay. I understand why you didn't.”

“No, it's really not okay. After all we've shared . . . I could've confided in you. I know that.”

Little white lights hung on the topiary trees, ready for a party, casting a glow across the veranda. The first time he'd come out here with her, he was already captivated. In a way, he knew it then. He couldn't figure her out, and that intrigued him. The tough outer shell and the vulnerability underneath that no one got to see—except then he did.

“You wanted to talk?” He had none of his usual certainty. In fact, he wasn't sure of anything, other than Madison wasn't leaving here without knowing how he felt about her. She needed to know he was an idiot for not doing everything in his power to convince her to stay. He'd persuaded her not to wait for them to be together until after the wedding. Convinced her to be with him for as long as she was here; surely he could talk her into being with him indefinitely.

Madison turned, clinging to her end of the quilt. Staring at the center of his chest, she worried her cheek. “When we first started out, I told you that the last thing I wanted was for us to be any kind of thing.”

“I know.” But it'd happened for him anyway.

“Because I was leaving and this was going to be short and sweet. And fun. Right?”

“Right.”

She finally lifted her gaze to look at him, and what Roark saw in her eyes knocked the air from his lungs. Madison open and vulnerable, and scared out of her mind.

“It's not fun anymore.” Her voice shook, as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. “You were supposed to be like anyone else. We'd enjoy each other and it'd be over, and it'd be fine. Same as always. But I'm leaving and I'm not fine, and that scares me because. . .” She glanced away before carrying on. “Because I don't know how to handle feeling this way. This wasn't supposed to be hard. Leaving here, leaving
you
, it wasn't supposed to hurt. But it does!”

Roark reached for her, offering her comfort with a hand on her arm, and she kept going.

“I was so worried—so scared of letting you in, but you're already in here.” She pointed to the center of her chest again. “I know I never said I wanted anything more from you than the here and now, but I was wrong. The thought of leaving you—”

“Stay.” He couldn't get the word out fast enough. “Don't leave. Stay here, with me.” He shifted his hold on her arm to grip her hand. “I don't want you to leave. Since you walked in that front door, I've wanted you here. I want you in my life. By my side. Always.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but he stopped her. Because knowing her, knowing what she'd been through, this mattered. “And I want you to know, even if you say no, even if you're too scared to stay, and you reject me completely, I still want you to know,
I
want
you
. You are worth me taking this chance. And you don't have to say anything else if you don't want to. But I need you to know, I love you.”

* * *

The tears that'd pricked her eyes, threatening to fall, spilled over. The dam she built decades ago, broke. All she could do was bury her face in his chest and let it flow. In her life, she'd never heard those words. Not from anyone. And she never expected to.

“I don't want to go,” she mumbled into his shirt.

Roark stroked her tangled hair. “Then don't. You don't have to go anywhere.”

“But. Why?” she asked moments later, watery eyed and rubbing her face on the quilt.
Why would anyone love me?

“Why what? Why do I love you?”

She managed a sniffling nod.

“Because of you.” Roark shrugged, like it was all so simple. “Have you met you? You're pretty damn special.”

“But you'd put yourself out there like that, for me? Knowing how I am. Knowing I'm messed up. I might run off like Whitney.”

Another shrug. “She came back. That's what love does. It hurts and then it heals. I want to be with you and if you say no or yes, that doesn't change how I feel about you. You need to know that. I can't let you walk out of my life without knowing exactly how much I want you in it, and if I can convince you to stay then you definitely need to know I love you. And if you break my heart, then I give it to you to break. You're worth that risk to me.”

She'd thought she was done crying. But she was wrong.

Roark pulled her close, his strong arms around her as she wept and shook. She cried because she didn't deserve him, and she cried because somehow she'd gotten him anyway.

She kept her face pressed to his shirt. “But I'm such a mess.”

“You've met my family. You'll fit right in.”

Her laugh was watery as she mopped at her face with the quilt.

“I don't want you to go,” he said. “I know you have a life that isn't here. I get that and I don't know how we'll work this out, but I don't want to lose you.”

Madison shook her head. “This is the most life I've ever had. I can do my job anywhere.”

He nodded, studying her face, which could not be a pretty sight right now.

The thought of saying the next few words, of putting the truth out there, made her want to throw up in the topiaries. But she had to say it. She needed to step past the fear of him walking away, for her.

She looked in his pale eyes and prayed for the best. “I
love
being with you. I like your big old inn and family. I like Beau the dog. I don't . . . I don't want to leave you. I want you in my life. You and Honeywilde and all of it. I would be okay . . . being here. In this place. With you.”

He reached for her hands, and with him holding on to her, she grew stronger. Braver. “I want all of this, and that scares me. I can't pretend like it doesn't anymore. Wanting you scares the hell out of me, but the thought of leaving here on Sunday, of driving off and never seeing you again, never feeling the way I've felt the last few weeks, scares me more.”

“You don't have to be scared,” he said. “I should've said it last night or the night before or a week ago when I first felt it. I want to be with you, always, and somehow, we'll figure it out. The rest, all of the hows and whens, we'll figure out together. All that matters is that you'll be with me.”

Madison nodded, her throat knotted up so that all she could get out was, “I will.”

Roark kissed her. Kissed her with all of the affection and desperation she felt. He held her, murmuring the most beautiful words into her ear. The sky began to brighten and, at some point, the quilt fell from her shoulders. But she wasn't cold. She had him and the promise of tomorrow to keep her warm.

“Told you she'd fix everything if you could find her!”

They turned, and Devlin waved at them from the veranda doors. Beyond him, huddled close together on the couch by the fire, were Jack and Whitney.

Roark's chuckle was a warm vibration at her back.

“Should I make coffee?” Dev yelled.

Madison moaned, resting her head against his shoulder. “Oh god, yes.”

“Please!” Roark called back.

He kissed her once more on her temple before brushing her hair back as she wiped her eyes, enough that she looked halfway presentable.

“Think our wedding is back on?”

“God, I hope so.” Roark threw his eyes to heaven. “Let's go make sure and get them hitched before anything else can happen.”

“Agreed.”

“But first.” He pulled her into him and kissed her, as fully as always, but what swept over her was something different altogether. Still the same mix of excitement and lust, but along with it, complete acceptance. Of whatever she wanted to give him, of all that she was, unconditionally.

And for the first time in her lifetime, Madison was home.

W
hitney gave them both a thumbs-up right before Madison shooed her down the aisle to the sound of a guitarist playing Pachelbel's Canon in a version unlike any other.

She hurried to Roark's side, tucking her arm into his and observing the whole beautiful event from the premier seating of the back row.

“She looks amazing.” Pride dripped from her voice. As it should. His Madison had made the impossible happen.

Whitney did look amazing. She practically skipped down the aisle with happiness for her wedding day, and for being strong enough to follow her heart. Jack, biker gang-looking fellow that he was, radiated joy. He glowed with it, and in a million years, Roark figured he'd never see a more contradictory sight.

He brushed his fingers over Madison's where she held his arm, feeling pretty damn glowy himself.

This morning, he'd thought his knees were going to buckle as she spoke. Certain she was going to walk out of his life forever, he'd had to force himself to stand there and listen. Take whatever she had to dish out, because he was sure he deserved it. Then she said she was scared, and his knees really had gone out a bit.

Roark intertwined their fingers and glanced at her. She'd worn her hair
mostly
loose today. Blond waves fell to her shoulders, inviting and touchable, the same way she was—with him. One side was pulled back, a burnt-orange flower pinned there, courtesy of Whitney's insisting that if she had to wear shoes to get married, then all the women had to have flowers in their hair.

Sensing his gaze, Madison looked over.

They'd figure out this relationship stuff. She was here, and that's what mattered. She'd go back to Charlotte in a few days, work on settling things up there so she could home base out of Honeywilde, and then they'd be together.

Home.

He wasn't sure how the logistics would work, and he wasn't the least bit worried. Between the two of them? If they both put their minds to it, and their lists, they'd make it work.

Now that they both knew they wanted the same thing, everything else they'd conquer in time, and together. When they ran upon hard times, they'd solve that together too.

He mouthed the words to her, silently. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she mouthed back.

She told him again later, after dinner was served and the cake was cut. The cake was, of course, a huge success.

“Thank goodness you convinced me to go with some random cake no one has ever heard of.” Madison rolled her eyes over another bite.

Roark used his fork to pick up the crumbs left on his plate. “My pleasure.”

Sophie found them, holding up the corner of the great room. She pointed at Roark. “
You
are in big trouble.”

“What'd I do?”

“I have heard two people ask to speak to the chef and ask if he's available for freelance work. You're probably going to have to give Wright a raise after this because he's not allowed to leave. None of these music hoity-toits are allowed to take him away.”

“He's not going to leave.”

“He better not.” Sophie looked both of them over. “Why are you two over here anyway?”

“We're eating cake.” Roark held up his empty plate. “What's it look like?”

Devlin half walked, half glided up to all of them. “Quit holding up the walls. There's dancing to be done.”

Roark barked with a laugh. “You do not want me to dance. You know this.”

Sophie grinned. “Why do you think
I
want you out there? You make me look like I have skills.”

“Get Madison out there. I'm going to get one more itty-bitty slice of cake.” He nudged Madison in Sophie's direction.

“Oh no. No, sir.” She dug her heels in. “If I have to dance, you have to dance.”

He started laughing as his sister and his girlfriend—he really liked thinking of her in those terms—dragged him toward the dancing. “This is not going to be pretty.”

Madison shook her head. “We're both going to lower the quality of the dance floor just by getting near it.”

The
large
dance floor, to be exact. Devlin had been right, the reception party overflowed even the large expanse of parquet flooring.

He and Madison lucked out though. As they closed in on the crowd, the DJ slowed things down with a ballad.

Dev spun Sophie in some fancy turn Roark would never dare try, and he raised an eyebrow at Madison.

“Don't go getting any ideas. I might be able to manage a little side-to-side for a slow song. That's it.” He took her hand and pulled her into him.

“I've experienced your side-to-side.” She cocked an eyebrow. “
And
your front-to-back. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. Believe me.”

They shared a private smile until Madison began to giggle.

“You know . . . it's that charming little grin of yours that started things in the first place.”

“Oh really?”

“Really. The sheepish little smile on the boss-man? It's irresistible.”

“That is good to know.” He tried his best at a dance turn, making them both laugh.

“You're going to use that little smile on me every day of my life now, aren't you?”

He pulled Madison closer into his arms, holding her tight, promising he'd never let go.

A lifetime sounded like a great plan to him.