Love in Bloom (39 page)

“I was writing for Bobbi,” she insisted.

“Were you?”

His intense scrutiny felt like the sun's rays through a magnifying
glass. She took another long drink from her bottle. “You know, you can't be in love with my sister one minute and chasing me the next.”

“Who said anything about being in love with your sister? I never did.”

“You were sure acting like it.”

“Bobbi's fun, but I wasn't in love with her. And I never slept with her,” he added as if reading Hope's mind. “Look. I'm sorry I didn't get more into you to begin with. I should have. You've got what I want.”

“What do you want?” Why was she bothering to ask?

“I want a woman who likes to hike in the woods, who's happy to sit by the lake and drink wine coolers. I want you.”

“I need another drink,” Hope decided.

He opened another bottle for her and handed it over with a sly grin. Probably thinking he was going to get lucky. Well, there was luck and there was luck.

He reached up and began playing with the last of her chemo curls which swirled lazily over her neck. “Where'd you get these, from your mom or your dad?”

“From my oncologist. This is how it grew in after the chemo.”

She didn't look at him, but she could feel the charming smile smothering under the heavy dose of stark reality. “God.”

That about summed it up. “I said that a lot myself, mostly in prayers. ‘God, please let me live through this. God, why did I have to get this?' ” She turned and offered him a smile to ease the awkward moment. “Mostly now, though, I simply say, ‘God, thanks that I'm alive.' ”

“You're amazing.”

He was looking at her like she was some kind of saint. “No, I'm not. I get grumpy and ungrateful and jealous, and . . .” Loose lipped. She looked at the half-empty bottle in her hands. No wonder her head was buzzing and her lips were flapping.

“Jealous of who?”

“You know, I think I need to cool off,” she decided. She hopped up and ran for the lake.

“Good idea,” said Jason, coming after her.

He caught up with her at the water's edge and she saw he'd shed his shirt. And he was closing the distance between them like a man with a purpose. “Come here, you,” he teased.

She stumbled backward and went down, tangling herself in the water lilies. She came up sputtering and he caught her.

He brushed her wet hair out of her face and chuckled. “I'm beginning to wonder if you're accident prone.”

“Only around you,” she managed.

With her drenched top plastered to her, she looked like a contestant in a wet T-shirt contest, the last thing on earth she wanted to resemble. She opened her mouth to tell Jason she needed to go home. Now. But he didn't give her time to speak. Instead, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Good and thoroughly, and all she could think about was how much she wanted this man. She shut her eyes, wrapped her hands around his neck, and binged.

Five minutes later, he was scooping her up and carrying her out of the water, laying her down on the bank. And then his hand was sliding up her thigh, turning her into a one woman Fourth of July fireworks display. If ever there was a time to say stop, it was now. But she couldn't.

Not until his hand started creeping up her midriff. The fireworks stopped instantly and she sat up. “I can't.”

“Oh. Too soon. You're right.”

“No, it's not that.”

“Well, then what?” He sounded completely puzzled.

She kept her eyes firmly on the lake, dazzling in the summer sun. “I lost a breast.”

“Okay.”

He said it like he wasn't tracking. She let out an angry hiss. “You don't want to see me naked.”

“How do you know?” He reached up an arm, trying to coax her down to him.

She inched away. “I'm serious. I had replacement surgery. It didn't go well the first time. The second wasn't much of an improvement. I'm scarred and imperfect.” She came to a sudden stop, the tightness in her throat making it impossible to say more. She'd said enough anyway. Too much.

He let out a big sigh and sat up next to her. “Look at me.”

She shook her head and kept her face averted.

He took her by the chin and turned her face to his. “Maybe I haven't made myself clear. I'm looking for the whole package in a woman. I don't want just a pretty face and a hot body.”

“A body is pretty important.”

“They come in handy when you're having sex,” he said. “But I've got to tell you, if the only thing keeping you from wanting to be with me is this less than perfect breast, you can stop worrying right now. I'm a leg man.” And to prove it, he grazed a hand over her thigh, starting the fireworks all over again.

“Every man likes boobs.”

“Well, sure,” he admitted. “But we don't care if they're fake or not. And who cares about some scarring?”

“I do,” Hope insisted. She wanted to cry, and she wasn't sure whether it was from frustration or gratitude.

“You women worry about things that don't make the radar with guys,” he said, giving her neck a gentle rub. “And, hey, you want to talk scars.” He pointed to a long, white lightning bolt of a scar running along his upper arm.

It took up a lot of arm space. She wondered why she'd never noticed it.

“I got that when I was eleven. Ran through a sliding glass door.” He shrugged. “Life happens.”

Well, that was touching, but . . . “It's not the same.”

Now he frowned. “The hell it's not. People get hurt or sick all
the time. Then we need to get patched up. So, you had to get patched up. The important thing is, you're here. You're well.”

“For the time being. But I don't know if it's gone for good.”

“Well, I don't know if I'm going to fall off a roof tomorrow and end up in a wheelchair,” he said. “But I'm sure not going to let that stop me from living my life right now. Here.” Suddenly, he had the bottom of her shirt and was easing it up.

She tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”

“We're going to settle this right now.”

“No!” Panic swamped her and she started to struggle.

“Hold still,” he commanded.

“Someone will see.”

“Okay, then.”

He stood and pulled her up after him. Then he led her back to the house and inside. It was shadowy and cool compared to the sunny lake bank. She began to shiver. “Now,” he said gently. “Come here.”

There was no sense postponing this. Hope shut her eyes and let him pull the top over her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears sting her cheeks as he slipped off her bra.

Outside a robin was starting to sing. Inside the half-built home, there was nothing but silence.

“Hope.”

He said it gently. He was going to let her down easy.

Her eyes shot open in amazement as he bent and kissed her scarred breast. “I want you.”

And then she cried.

And then she took his face in her hands and kissed him, putting her whole heart and soul into it. It was a perfect kiss.

And a perfect beginning.

THE WEDDING BOUQUET

 

Why do brides often carry roses and baby's breath
in their bouquets? Besides the fact that they look
beautiful, these flowers speak the language of
marriage. Baby's breath signifies everlasting love.
White roses represent eternal love, red roses say “I
love you,” and pink roses stand for perfect
happiness. Orchids are nice to carry with a small,
white Bible. They stand for love and beauty. And
every bride is beautiful in her own way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

J
ASON PROVED HOW
much he wanted Hope when he proposed to her in August as her family picnicked on the site of what was going to be her parents' future summer home.

“It's about time,” said Bobbi, hugging them both. “I want to do the flowers for the wedding.”

But when they got married two weeks later, they didn't need flowers, other than the elaborate bouquet Bobbi and Jason planned together. Mother nature gave them plenty. The ceremony took place at the community garden, with family and friends gathered around. Altheus surreptitiously wiped his eyes as Hope stood among the blooms with Amber and Bobbi as her bridesmaids. Duke and Jason's brother served as groomsmen, and the looks flashing between Duke and Bobbi spoke of another wedding soon to follow.

The minister asked Jason if he took Hope to be his wife in sickness and in health, and Jason smiled at her and said, “Absolutely.”
And, when the minister told him he could kiss the bride, he laid a protective hand over her scarred breast and whispered, “I want you.” And if the words weren't enough to convince her, the kiss certainly was.

They picnicked in the park, their feast of scones and tea sandwiches catered by Ty and Amber. They were about to cut the lavender cake when Amber nudged Hope and said, “Look.”

A butterfly perched on the nearby vase of lavender, fanning its wings.

“I think Millie approves,” Amber said.

“I think so, too,” Hope said with a smile. Millie was right, life was short. And she was going to live hers to the fullest.