Kiss the Bride (21 page)

“You bought me a gift?”

He pointed a finger at her. “I’ll be right back.”

Puzzled, Delaney watched him leave the room. She heard the back door creak open and then slam closed again a few minutes later.

Nick was back. Holding a pretty pink box wrapped with red ribbon.

He’d bought her a present. She was touched.

“Here. Maybe this will help you decide.”

She untied the ribbon, lifted the lid. There, nestled in tissue paper, she saw his hula doll. Stunned, she raised her head and met his gaze. “Oh, Nick, I can’t accept this. Your mother gave you Lalule to help you deal with your grief.”

“It’s not Lalule,” he said. “I bought you your own hula doll. She’s to remind you that when life gets too bland and predictable, you need to shake things up.”

Delaney took the hula doll out of the box and gently thumbed her hips. The doll shook and shimmied.

Shake it up.

She looked at the white walls.

Shake it up.

She thought about what she wanted, but it was hard trying to figure out exactly what she did want. She’d spent so
many years pleasing everyone else. Delaney had forgotten how to express her own desires.

Shake it up.

She looked at Nick and put the doll back in the box. She wasn’t convinced shaking things up was the smart way to go. “Thank you. I’ll treasure this.”

“So what’s your decision?” he asked. “Do we keep on painting white? Or do we make another trip to Lowe’s and exchange the paint for something exciting?”

“I want to help your grandmother sell her house.”

“Forget about that for a moment. If you could do anything with this house, what would you do?”

“I’d go for it. I’d make this place special. I’d make magic.”

“Look out, Lowe’s, here we come.” He laughed and the sound warmed her from the inside out. Nick reached over, took the box from her hand, and then walked over to set it on the windowsill along with his beer.

He turned back to her, grinning his cocky grin, eyes glistening with the same out-of-control impulses that were simmering through her blood. He took a step closer. She did not move away.

Nick took another step and then another.

Her heart pounded.

He reached out a hand.

She stopped breathing.

His thumb came down to rub the tip of her nose. “Smudge of paint,” he explained.

She exhaled heavily.

“If we were in a romantic movie,” Nick said, “this would be the point where I’d kiss you.”

“But this isn’t a movie.”

Their gazes fused.

“No.”

“And you’re not going to kiss me.”

He leaned forward until his lips were almost touching hers. “No.”

“That’s very good,” she said, “because I’m engaged to be married.”

“I know. I’ve seen the rock. It’s big enough to choke a two-headed Clydesdale.”

She smiled. “It is rather ostentatious, isn’t it?”

“From a cop’s point of view, it’s dangerous. You might as well wear a neon sign that says, ‘Rob me.’ You’re just asking to have your finger cut off for that thing.” He reached over and picked up her left hand. “And I’d sure as hell hate to see any harm come to that hand. Whenever you’re in an unsafe area you should turn your ring around to the palm side and close your fingers around it.”

He turned the ring to demonstrate. Closed his hand over hers. Over her engagement ring. His touch shook her. Fully. Completely. Upside down and inside out.

“Chopped-off fingers are not romantic,” she said. “It isn’t even remotely like something Tom Hanks would say to Meg Ryan. You are not making my knees weak.”

“Good,” he murmured and looked her straight in the eyes. “Because mine are weak enough for the both of us.”

Now
that
was romantic.

“You
do
want to kiss me,” she said. “Admit it.”

“Woman,” he answered softly, “you have absolutely no idea how much.”

A thrill blitzed down her spine. His warm breath tickled her skin. He smelled so good Delaney could scarcely remember her own name, much less Evan’s.

You can’t let Nick kiss you. You mustn’t let him kiss you. This cannot happen.

She raised her hands and clutched them together in front of her chest, building a barrier between them. It was weak, but it was all she could come up with.

“Please…,” she whispered, meaning to add “don’t,” but her throat was so tight and his eyes were so dark and she was caught up in the strange magic surging between them.

He reached for her hand again and he turned the ring back where it belonged. Back where they could both see that she was spoken for and could not forget it.

“If you didn’t have the ring on your finger…” His eyes flashed a promise of the wonderful things that could happen if she were unattached.

“But I do.”

He nodded, took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“It’s an engagement ring,” she said, not really knowing why she said it. “Not a wedding ring. Not yet.”

“Marriage is supposed to be for a lifetime,” Nick said. “Like with Grampa and Nana. The vows don’t read, ‘Until some guy you like better comes along.’ ”

Sympathy tugged her heart. He was thinking about his ex-wife. What was her name? Oh, yes. Amber. She could tell by the way he screwed his mouth up tightly, absentmindedly rubbed his injured knee, and stared off into the distance. Delaney wanted to make things better for him. She wanted to take away his pain.

It was the only excuse she could come up with for what happened next.

She was acutely aware of a very important line being crossed, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from crossing it. The question was, how far across that taboo line was she willing to go?

Delaney touched Nick’s shoulder.

He looked at her and their eyes wed.

She felt everything all at once.

It was like an earthquake rocking her chest. Lust and chemistry. Longing and yearning. Guilt and loneliness. Hunger and sadness and hope. It fell in on her, heavy and warm and too much, too soon.

What had she gotten herself into?

His gaze was hot. Lightning that lingered.

The look made her lips tingle.

Neither of them moved.

He cupped his palm under her chin and tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

She stiffened. Wanting him to kiss her, but scared, scared, scared of where it might lead.

He dropped his hand, backed up.

No,
something inside her whimpered.

Compelled by a force she couldn’t understand or explain, Delaney stepped forward. She just knew that she had to kiss him or die, but it wasn’t in her nature to act so boldly. She was accustomed to finding roundabout ways to meet her needs. She couldn’t bring herself to initiate the kiss, but she could make him kiss her.

Wantonly, Delaney slipped her fingers through the belt loops of his blue jeans and held on tight.

He arched his eyebrows, making sure he understood what she wanted.

She swallowed, moistened her lips. Nodded.

His eyes lit up and a smile tipped his mouth. It was like watching a drawbridge drop. And behind the door of the fortress, hidden beneath the tough-guy image, Delaney spied a center of tenderness she’d never imagined.

“Aw, Rosy,” he murmured and lowered his head.

Her pulse danced, light as the sunshine dappling the freshly painted walls.

The kiss was quieter than she thought it would be, languid and deep, a slow opportunity to taste and smell and feel. A chance to settle, by layers, into a dreamy ease. The teasing of his tongue against hers brought a helpless response so acute, she felt faint, like she was falling.

Delaney locked her fingers in his hair and made him kiss her harder, deeper and harder still.

The taste of him!

Like returning home from a long, arduous journey. Recognizing every part of him with her lips and hands and body and yet at the same time he felt fabulously foreign—and strangely familiar.

While the world shrank down into the minute width of mouths, she opened herself up to possibilities as yet undreamed. She was completely disarmed. With any other man the quick intimacy and astonishing sensuality would have appalled her, but with Nick everything was different.

Her lips shuddered against his mouth and her body molded to his. His hands roved over her back and she strained into him, her breasts crushed against his chest. Instantly, she experienced a sense of peace and safety. In Nick’s arms, she felt special.

And that very sensation scared her.

In her need to put some magic in her life, was she grasping at straws? Was she mistakenly reading something into this kiss that wasn’t really there? Was she confusing passion for something substantial? How could she begin to compare the history, companionship, and compatibility she shared with Evan to this explosive, red-hot rocket of sensation with a man she’d only known for a little over a week?

Delaney dithered, caught between doubt and desire.
She did not like this push-pull of emotions. For years, she’d been living life on autopilot, melding with her mother’s wishes, putting on a pleasant face, getting through life by putting things in soft focus. She did what felt safe.

But the power of Nick’s kiss drove home the fact that she’d done so at the price of her vitality and aliveness. That’s what scared her most. This arousal of aspects of herself she’d always chosen to ignore.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do it. I wanted you so badly I thought I could ignore my conscience, but I can’t.” She splayed a hand against his chest and pushed him away.

“Because of your fiancé,” he said, fingering her engagement ring again. “That you love. But not in the right way.”

She nodded.

“Leave him.”

“You’re talking crazy. We don’t even know each other.”

“Forget about me. Leave him for your sake. For his sake. You can’t marry this guy if you want me that badly.”

Panicked, Delaney pressed a hand to her forehead, still tingly from where his lips had branded her. It was true, but it was not that simple. “I’ve been dating Evan since I was sixteen. We were high school sweethearts. I’ve never been with anyone else but him. You’re just…”

“Just what?” Nick pulled back, his eyes glinting darkly in the light. “Exactly what am I to you, Delaney?”

“Just something to get out of my system.”

There was no mistaking the hurt on Nick’s face. Without another word, he turned and walked away.

“I’ve done a terrible, terrible thing,” Delaney told Tish and Jillian and Rachael early the next morning as they struck the warrior pose on side-by-side yoga mats at a chic, women-only gym in downtown Houston.

“You?” Tish, who was positioned on Delaney’s left, tipped her body into perfect alignment. “What did you do? Eat dessert with your salad fork at your mother’s latest dinner party?”

“I’m serious, Tish.”

The teasing expression on her friend’s face changed. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a guy.”

“A guy?” Jillian said from Delaney’s right.

“What did she say?” asked Rachael, who was on the other side of Jillian. She was having trouble hearing over the Eastern-flavored music.

“She met a guy,” Jillian relayed.

“But she already has a guy. She’s engaged.” Rachael broke her form to lean around Jillian and glare at Delaney. “What are you thinking?”

“I know.” Delaney’s legs wobbled as she struggled to hold her pose. Trust Rachael to be the voice of her conscience. “I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

“You’re not horrible,” Tish said. “You’re human.”

“Trust me. I’m horrible. You haven’t heard the worst of it,” Delaney said.

“What’s the worst of it?” Jillian dared.

“It gets worse?” Rachael groaned.

“I kissed him. No, he kissed me. No, we kissed each other. Oh, I don’t know what happened. I’m so confused.” Delaney pushed away a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail and into her face.

All three of her friends lost their poses as they turned to stare at her. Delaney looked straight ahead, keeping up the pose, keeping up appearances.

“What?” Rachael gasped.

“Naughty girl,” Tish said.

“I didn’t believe you had it in you.” Jillian shook her head. “Way to go.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Rachael snapped. “This is serious. Delaney has broken her vow to Evan.”

“Lighten up, Rach. They’re not married yet,” Jillian said. “She just had to get it out of her system.”

“That’s exactly right. That’s what I told Nick.” Delaney nodded.

“Evan’s the only guy she’s ever been with,” Jillian said. “Cut her a break. It was just a little kiss, right, Del?”

Just a little kiss? That was like calling the Grand Canyon a little crack in the ground.