Not in Her Wildest Dreams(56)

She acknowledged that with a trembling smirk. "My enemy's enemy is my friend?"

"Something like that." He stroked his thumb against her throat, expression solemn. "We could leave anytime, Paige. I mean that."

"It'd be nice to be near Brit and the baby," she mumbled.         

     



 

"You're killing me over here. Say you'll be my wife, Paige. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

"Do I have to take your name?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake. I'll take yours." He scooped her up and said, "Where's the bedroom?"

She laughed, locking her arms around his neck, lips pressing to the spot  near his Adam's apple that always made him growl with pleasure.





Chapter Thirty-Five

Six months later and Sterling still tensed to think about how close he'd come to losing her, but she was his now.

He followed her voice outside to their backyard, where the lawn  stretched unbroken all the way through her father's property to the  other street. Kids were playing tag over there, but here people milled  around in suits and dresses, enjoying the light breeze that was bobbing  the heads of the daffodils Paige had planted before Thanksgiving and  were now blooming freely.

His mother was busy advising Paige on the protocol of bouquet tossing.  She'd spent the day dutifully standing beside her husband the Mayor,  only making one sideways comment about the woman here with Grady.

"Patty, you might get lucky," Evelyn told his Best Woman, nudging her to join the single ladies in the scramble for the bouquet.

Patty was still shaking her head at his moving back to Liebe Falls, but  had offered warm approval in his choice in wife after she and Paige had  had their first lunch together.

"She's sarcastic, smart, and hot as hell. Marry her before I do."

He did.

"Hi," he murmured, coming up behind Paige, curling his arm around her waist. "Ready to go?"

She leaned back into him, so the flowers in her hair tickled his chin, fragrant and soft. She reached up to cup his jaw.

"Almost."

"Let Mom throw it. She'll do it right."

His mother was miffed that they hadn't waited until June. She was dying to take control of something.

Paige tilted a smile at him. "I'm going to aim for Brit."

Britta was handing off her newborn daughter to Cam, who cradled the baby with great care, trying not to wake her.

"Help me?" Paige prompted. When she smiled like that, like he was her  own personal hero, it was like looking at sunlight bouncing off water,  the brilliance so intense it made his eyes water.

"I live to serve," he told her. "But I want you to myself. Hurry."

A few minutes later, Paige's ring-his grandmother's-sparkled in the sun  as she threw her bouquet over her head and behind her back. Squeals of  laughter and a small scrum followed with a triumphant shout from a still  plump Britta.

"Oh, good," Paige said when she saw her friend blushing and making eyes at Cam. "That makes me happy."

"That all it takes?" Sterling said with a mock frown.

"Oh, I'm insanely happy," Paige said. "You know that. Lyle said I sound obnoxious with it."

Her brother texted often and they talked over the screen every couple of  weeks, but Lyle hadn't made the wedding. He claimed he couldn't get the  time off work, but from what Sterling could tell, he was taking odd  jobs that weren't exactly binding. It was an excuse. Paige was bummed as  hell about it, but coming back to a big event like this, where booze  was flowing freely and another man was holding his baby, might be a hard  place to stay sober. Sterling cut the man some slack.

And they were detouring on their way home to see him at the end of their honeymoon.

"Let's go," Sterling insisted now.

"The impatient bridegroom," Patty teased as they started making their escape.

He was and didn't care who knew it.

"Where's the honeymoon?" someone asked.

"Mexico. And we're not taking calls," Paige said, laughing over her  shoulder, thanking well-wishers for coming as they wound their way  across the crowded lawn.

At the front of the house, Grady stood talking with Walter and the rest of the usual suspects.

Zack, still in his tux, came down the front steps with a beer in his  hand. "It's for Pops," he said when Paige's brow went up. "I don't  drink. You know that."

His father and the other men came forward to shake Sterling's hand as a  final gauntlet, offering congratulations and playful advice for the  honeymoon. Finally Sterling was able to help Paige gather her dress into  the passenger seat of their new SUV. As he did, the men's voices  carried from behind him.

"You must be proud as punch."

"She could have done better," Grady said, arrogant as ever.

"All fathers feel that way about their daughters. Then the babies come and you don't care anymore. She got a bun in the oven?"         

     



 

"I sincerely hope so," Walter said. "It's about time Sterling became a father."

Sterling smirked, exchanging a look with his wife. She wore the sly, secretive smile she'd been wearing for six weeks.

Yeah. About time.

~ * ~





Don't miss the second story in Dani Collins' Dreams Duet:

ONLY IN HIS SWEETEST DREAMS.

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Excerpt - Only In His Sweetest Dreams

With serious misgivings, Mercedes left her sister's kids in the sunroom  and entered the meeting room where small private receptions were  occasionally arranged for birthdays or anniversaries, and where card  tables were set up for the monthly board meeting.

"Mercedes! Finally." Mrs. Garvey's Finishing School accent silenced the  room as she broke away from the group beside the coffee service at the  counter. Her teabag string waved from the edge of her cup and tea  sloshed onto the saucer as she marched her thin frame across the room.

"I'm sorry." Mercedes caught a brief glimpse of a fresh-faced college kid and a face that was definitely that of a man.

Her heart gave a teensy ba-boomp even before she got a proper look at  him. Mrs. Yamamoto opened her arms for a hug and Mercedes had to bend  way down over the woman's tiny frame then turn to press a light kiss on  Pete Dolinski's cheek. Her vision was completely blocked by Harrison  Michaels's broad shoulders when she accepted his brief, back-patting  hug. He smelled like cotton and cigars and love. Yeah, she loved this  ol' coot.

"Good to have you back," he said.

"Good to be back," Mercedes said, and stepped away only to have her attention demanded by Mrs. Garvey.

"We weren't sure you were going to make it." No affection from Mrs. Garvey. She was like Dayton. Liked her personal space.

"I was waiting for my sister." And waiting and waiting. Cocking her  head, Mercedes tried to hear the children and doubted it was good news  that she couldn't.

"They've been here ten minutes already," Mrs. Garvey said.

In the quiet, her remark carried. Mercedes sent a faint smile at ‘they.'

She had understood from Harrison that four young men had broken into the  back units of the complex, but only one stood across the room. He  looked surprisingly clean-cut for a B&E artist.

However, if the man beside him was a relative-and he must be since they  shared the same dark coloring-then it explained everything. The older  brother or uncle or whatever he was, looked like cheap beer, dirty talk,  and sweaty sex.

He smiled at her as if he knew she possessed a learning disability where guys like him were concerned.

Clenching her stomach against flutters of intrigue, Mercedes dredged up a  cool smile and approached with her hand extended. "I'm Mercedes  Kimball, the Manager of Coconino."

In his mid to late thirties, the man straightened from a slouch against  the wall, giving the impression he was on the wrong side of pulling an  all-nighter. His hair was in need of cutting or combing. Both really,  and his jeans looked clean, but were faded and frayed. He hadn't shaved  in days and he had to know that old-fashioned senior types like the ones  in this room expected a tidier appearance for important meetings like  this.

Then again, a man like him didn't usually give a damn.

"L.C. Fogarty." He shook with an all-encompassing grip that could easily  lead her to the nearest broom closet. He kept her hand while he said,  "My son, Zack."

"Son," she said with mild surprise and eased her tingling hand free, smiling at Zack.

Zack didn't meet her gaze, too busy giving his father a weird look.

"What?" L.C. asked.

Zack shook his head, held out his hand for Mercedes, and said, "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Kimball."

Really the kid was too much a contrast to the punk father, his hair  freshly cut, his slacks and collared shirt clean and ironed, his  attitude respectful rather than knowing and wicked. He had shaved. Maybe  the wrong Fogarty had been copped for the crime.

Mercedes drew back and briefly introduced the board before saying, "I'm  not sure why you requested this meeting, Zack. I understood the school  and police settled everything yesterday."