Читать книгу Once Upon a Bride - Helen Lacey - Страница 7

Chapter One

“You made a what?”

Lauren Jakowski shrugged her shoulders and bit down on her lower lip, musing whether she should repeat her words. But her two best friends’ imploring looks won over.

“I made a vow,” she said, and glanced at both Cassie and Mary-Jayne. “Of celibacy.”

The other women snorted through the drinks they were sipping, sending liquid flying across the small poolside table. It was her brother’s wedding, and once the bride and groom had cut the cake and shared their first dance, her bridesmaid’s duties were officially over for the night. So she’d left the hotel ballroom and met her friends by the pool.

“Yeah, sure you did,” Cassie said with a laugh, wiping her face.

“I did,” Lauren insisted. “When my marriage ended.”

“So you, like—” Mary-Jayne mused slowly as her dark hair swayed in the breeze “—made a commitment to never have sex again?”

“Exactly,” she replied. “Not until I’m certain he’s the right one.”

“He being this dull and passionless individual you think you’ll find so you can have your mediocre happily ever after?” Cassie asked, watching Lauren over the rim of her glass of soda.

She ignored how absurd it sounded. “Yes.”

Cassie’s brows came up. “And where are you going to find this Mr. Average?” she asked. “ReliableBores.com?”

“Maybe,” Lauren said, and pretended to drink some champagne.

“So no sex?” Mary-Jayne asked again. “Even though you caught the bouquet, look sensational in that dress and there are at least half a dozen single men at this wedding who would happily throw you over their shoulder, carry you off and give you the night of your life?”

“I’m not interested in anything casual,” she reiterated.

Mary-Jayne’s eyes widened. “Not even with—”

“Not with anyone,” she said firmly.

“But he’s—”

The original tall, dark and handsome...

“I know what he is. And he’s not on my radar.”

Which was a great big lie. However, she wasn’t about to admit that to her friends. Lauren stared at the flowers sitting in the center of the small table. She had caught the bouquet. But she didn’t want some meaningless romp at her brother’s wedding.

And she certainly didn’t want it with Gabe Vitali.

In the past six months, she’d been within touching distance of the ridiculously good-looking American several times. And avoided him on every single occasion. He was exactly what she didn’t want. But since he was her brother’s friend—and Crystal Point was a small town—Lauren accepted that she would be forced to see him every now and then.

“I like Gabe,” Mary-Jayne said, and grinned. “He’s kind of mysterious and...sexy.”

Lauren wrinkled her nose. “Trouble.”

“But still sexy?” Cassie laughed gently. “Come on, admit it.”

Lauren let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, he’s sexy. He’s weak-at-the-knees sexy.... He’s handsome and hot and every time I see him I wonder what he looks like out of his clothes. I said I was celibate...not comatose.”

The two women laughed, and Lauren pushed aside the idea of Gabe Vitali naked.

“Still, you haven’t had sex in over two years,” Mary-Jayne, the more candid of the two women, reminded her. “That’s a long time. Just because you got divorced doesn’t mean you can’t have sex.”

Lauren shrugged. “Isn’t there an old saying about not missing what you don’t have?”

Mary-Jayne shook her head. “Please tell me you’ve at least kissed a guy since then?”

“No,” she replied. “Nor do I intend to until I know he’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

“You mean, planning for,” Cassie said, ever gentle. “You know, there’s no neat order to falling in love.”

“Who said anything about love?” Lauren pushed back her blond bangs.

Cassie’s calm expression was unwavering. “Is that really what you want? A loveless relationship without passion and heat?”

Lauren shrugged. “Marriage doesn’t have to be about sexual attraction. Or love.”

She saw her friends’ expressions, knew that even though they were both fiercely loyal and supported her unconditionally, they still thought her thinking madness. But she wasn’t swayed. How could they really appreciate her feelings? Or understand what she wanted?

They couldn’t.

But she knew what she wanted. No lust, no crazy chemistry. No fairy-tale love.

No risk.

“That’s just grief talking,” Cassie said quietly. “When a marriage breaks down, it’s natural to—”

“I’m not mourning my divorce,” she insisted. No, definitely not. Because she knew exactly what mourning felt like. “I’m glad it’s over. I shouldn’t have married a man I hardly knew. I’ve tried being in love, I’ve tried being in lust...and neither worked out. Believe it or not, for the first time in a long time, I actually know what I want.”

“Which is?” Mary-Jayne prompted, still grinning.

Lauren smiled at her friend. “Which is an honest, uncomplicated relationship with someone I can talk to.... Someone I can laugh with...have children with...grow old with. You know, the usual things. Someone who’s a friend. A companion. And not with a man who looks as though he was made to pose for an underwear ad on one of those highway billboards.”

“Like Gabe?” Mary-Jayne suggested playfully, and drank some champagne. “Okay, I get it. You want short, chubby and bald...not tall, dark and handsome. But in the meantime, how about we all get back to the ballroom and find some totally complicated man to dance with?”

“Not me,” Cassie said, and touched her four-month-pregnant belly. Her boyfriend was a soldier currently on tour in the Middle East. “But I’ll happily watch from the sidelines.”

Lauren shook her head. “I think I’ll stay out here for a while. You two go on ahead.”

Her friends took another couple of minutes to leave, and when she was alone, Lauren snatched up the colorful bouquet, stood and walked the ten feet toward the edge of the pool. Solitude crept over her skin, and she sighed. Weddings always made her melancholy. Which was unfortunate, since she owned the most successful bridal store in Bellandale. Weddings were her life. Some days, though, she thought that to be the most absurd irony.

Of course, she was pleased for her brother. Cameron deserved every bit of happiness with his new bride, Grace Preston. And the ceremony had been beautiful and romantic. But she had a hollow spot in her chest that ached with a heavy kind of sadness. Many of the guests now inside the big hotel ballroom had witnessed her union to James Wallace in similar style three years earlier. And most knew how it had ended. Tonight, more than ever before, Lauren’s sadness was amplified by her embarrassment at being on the receiving end of countless pitying looks and sympathetic greetings.

She took a deep breath and exhaled with a shudder. Somehow, her dreams for the future had been lost. But two years on, and with so many tears shed, she was stronger. And ready to start again. Only this time, Lauren would do it right. She wouldn’t rush into marriage after a three-month whirlwind romance. And she definitely wouldn’t be swept off her feet. This time, her feet were staying firmly on the ground.

Lauren swallowed hard, smoothed the mint-green chiffon gown over her hips and turned on her heels.

And was unexpectedly confronted with Gabe Vitali.

Stretched out on a sun lounger, tie askew and with his black hair ruffled as if he’d been running his hand through it, he looked so gorgeous, she literally gasped for breath. He was extraordinarily handsome, like one of those old-time movie stars. His glittering, blue-eyed gaze swept over her, and a tiny smile creased the corners of his mouth.

And she knew immediately...

He’d heard.

Everything.

Every humiliating word. Heat raced up and smacked her cheeks. Great.

Of course, she had no logical reason to dislike him...other than the fact he was good-looking and sexy and made her insides flip-flop. But it was enough to keep her from allowing her fantasies to take over. She gripped the bouquet tighter and planted her free hand on her hip in a faux impression of control, and spoke. “Whatever you might have thought you heard, I assure you I wasn’t—”

“How are the knees?” he asked as he sprang up.

He was tall, around six-two, with broad shoulders and a long-legged frame. And he looked way too good in a suit. Resentment burned through her when she realized he was referring to her earlier confession.

“Fine,” she replied, dying of embarrassment inside. “Rock solid.”

He came around the lounger, hands thrust into his pockets. “You’re sure about that?”

Lauren glared at him. “Positive,” she snapped, mortified. She wanted to flee, but quickly realized she’d have to squeeze herself in between him and the sun lounger if she wanted to make a getaway. “I think I’ll return to the ballroom now, if you don’t mind.”

His mouth curled at the edges. “You know, just because someone knows your vulnerabilities, it doesn’t necessarily make him your enemy.”

Lauren’s skin heated. “Vulnerabilities?” She sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t quite know what you mean by that, but if you’re insinuating that I’m vulnerable because I haven’t... Because I... Well, because it’s been a while since I was...you know...” Her words trailed off as mortification clung to every pore. Then she got annoyed as a quick cover-up. “Let’s get this straight. I’m not the least bit vulnerable. Not to you or to anyone like you.”

He grinned. “Whoa. Are you always so prickly?”

Prickly? She wasn’t prickly. She was even tempered and friendly and downright nice.

She glared at him. “Do you always eavesdrop on private conversations?”

“I was simply relaxing on a pool lounger,” he replied smoothly, his accent so delicious, it wound up her spine like liquid silk. “And I was here before you, remember? The fact you spoke about your sex life so openly is really no one’s fault but your own.” One brow rose. “And although it was entertaining, there’s no need to take your frustration out on—”

“I am not frustrated,” she snapped, figuring he was probably referring to her being sexually starved in some misguided, macho way. Broad shoulders, blue eyes and nice voice aside, he was a jerk. “I just don’t want to talk about it anymore. What I’d like is to forget this conversation ever happened.”

“I’m sure you would.”

Lauren wanted a big hole to open up and suck her in. When one didn’t appear, she took a deep breath. “So we have a deal. I’ll ignore you, and you can ignore me. That way we never have to speak to each other again.”

“Since this is the first time we have actually spoken,” he said, his gaze deep enough to get lost in. “I don’t think it will be a hardship.”

He was right. They’d never spoken. She’d made sure of it. Whenever he was close, she’d always managed to make a quick getaway. Lauren sniffed her dislike, determined to ignore the fact that the most gorgeous man she’d ever met probably thought she was stark raving mad. And she would have done exactly that. Except she turned her heel too quickly, got caught between the tiles, and seconds later, she was tumbling in a cartwheel of arms and legs and landed into the pool, bouquet flying, humiliation complete.

The shock of hitting the water was quickly interrupted when a pair of strong hands grasped one arm, then another. In seconds, she was lifted up and over the edge of the pool and set right on her feet.

He still held her, and had his hands intimately positioned on her shoulders.

She should have been cold through to her bones. But she wasn’t. She was hot. All over. Her saturated dress clung to every dip and curve, her once carefully styled hair was now draping down her neck and her blood burned through her veins like a grass fire.

“Steady,” he said softly, holding her so close she could see the tiny pulse in his jaw.

Lauren tried to speak, tried to move, tried to do something, anything, other than shake in his arms and stare up into his handsome face. But she failed. Spectacularly. It was he who eventually stepped back. When he finally released her, Lauren’s knees wobbled and she sucked in a long breath to regain her composure. Of which she suddenly had none. He looked at her, over her, slowly and provocatively and with just enough male admiration to make her cheeks flame. She glanced down and shuddered. The sheer, wet fabric hugged her body like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination.

She moved her lips. “I should...I think I should...”

“Yes,” he said quietly when her words trailed. “You probably should.”

Lauren shifted her feet and managed one step backward, then another. Water dripped down her arms and legs, and she glanced around for a towel or something else to cover herself. When she couldn’t find anything suitable, she looked back at him and noticed he still watched her. Something passed between them, a kind of heady, intense awareness that rang off warning bells in her head and should have galvanized her wobbly knees into action. But she couldn’t move.

Seconds later, he shrugged out of his jacket and quickly draped it around her shoulders. The warmth from the coat and his nearness enveloped her like a protective cloak, and Lauren expelled a long sigh. She didn’t want to feel that. Didn’t want to think that. She only wanted to escape.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I appreciate—”

“Forget it,” he said, cutting her off. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold,” he said, and then stepped back.

Lauren nodded, turned carefully and rushed from the pool area, water and humiliation snapping at her heels.

* * *

One week later Gabe pulled the for-sale peg from the ground, stuck the sign in the crook of his arm and headed across the front yard. The low-set, open-plan brick-and-tile home was big and required a much-needed renovation. But he’d bought the house for a reasonable price, and it seemed as good a place as any to settle down.

And he was happy in Crystal Point. The oceanfront town was small and friendly, and the beaches and surf reminded him of home. He missed California, but he enjoyed the peacefulness of the small Australian town he now called home instead. He’d rented a place in the nearby city of Bellandale for the past few months, but he liked the seaside town much better. Bellandale, with its sixty thousand residents, was not as populated as Huntington Beach, Orange County, where he’d lived most of his life. But it was busy enough to make him crave the solitude and quiet of Crystal Point. Plus, he was close to the beach and his new job.

He liked the job, too. Managing the Crystal Point Surf Club & Community Center kept him occupied, and on the weekends, he volunteered as a lifeguard. The beach was busy and well maintained, and so far he’d only had to administer first aid for dehydration and a couple of jellyfish stings. Nothing life threatening. Nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing that made him dwell on all he’d given up.

Gabe fished the keys from his pocket, dropped the sign into the overgrown garden bed and climbed the four steps to the porch. His household items had arrived that morning, and he’d spent most of the day emptying boxes and wishing he’d culled more crap when he’d put the stuff into storage six months ago. His cousin, Scott, had offered to come and give him a hand unpacking, but Gabe wasn’t in the mood for a lecture about his career, his personal life or anything else.

All his energy would go into his job and renovating the house, which he figured would keep him busy for six months, at least. After that, he’d tackle the yard, get the place in shape and put the house on the market again. How hard could it be? His brother Aaron did the same thing regularly. True, he wasn’t much of a carpenter, and Aaron was a successful builder in Los Angeles, but he’d give it a shot.

He headed inside and flicked on some lights. Some of the walls were painted black, no doubt a legacy from the previous tenants—a group of twenty-something heavy-metal enthusiasts who were evicted for cultivating some suspicious indoor plants—so painting was one of the first things on the agenda. The kitchen was neat and the bathrooms bearable. And although the furniture he’d bought a few months ago looked a little out of place in the shabby rooms, once the walls and floors were done, he was confident it would all look okay.

Gabe tossed the keys in a bowl on the kitchen table and pulled his cell from his pocket. He noticed there were a couple of missed calls. One from Aaron and another from his mother. It would be around midnight in California, and he made a mental note to call them back in the morning. Most days he was glad the time difference let him off the hook when it came to dealing with his family. At least his younger brother, Luca, and baby sister, Bianca, didn’t stick their nose into his life or moan about his decision to move to Crystal Point. As the eldest, Aaron always thought he knew best, and his mom was just...Mom. He knew she worried, knew his mom and Aaron were waiting for him to relapse and go running back to California.

He’d come to Crystal Point to start over, and the house and job were a part of that new life. Gabe liked that his family wasn’t constantly around to dish out advice. Bad enough he got lectures on tap from Scott. Hell, he understood their motives...he might even have done the same thing had the situation been reversed. But things had changed. He’d changed. And Gabe was determined to live his life, even if it wasn’t the one he’d planned on.

The private cul-de-sac in Crystal Point was an ideal place to start. It was peaceful, quiet and uncomplicated. Just what he wanted. A native bird squawked from somewhere overhead and he stared out the kitchen window and across the hedge to the next house along just as his cell rang. He looked at the screen. It was an overseas number and not one he recognized.

Uncomplicated?

Gabe glanced briefly out the window again as he answered the call. It was Cameron Jakowski, and the conversation lasted a couple of minutes. Sure, uncomplicated. Except for his beautiful, blonde, brown-eyed neighbor.

* * *

The thing about being a go-to, agreeable kind of person...sometimes it turned around to bite you on the behind. And this, Lauren thought as she drove up the driveway and then pulled up under the carport, was probably going to turn out to be one of those occasions.

Of course, she could have refused. But that wasn’t really her style. She knew her brother wouldn’t have called if there was any other option. He’d asked for her help, and she would always rally her resolve when it came to her family.

What she didn’t want to do—what she was determined to avoid doing—was start up any kind of conversation with her new next-door neighbor. Bad enough he’d bought the house and moved in just days after the never-to-be-spoken-about and humiliating event at the wedding. The last thing she wanted to do was knock on his door.

Ever.

Lauren had hoped to never see him again. But it seemed fate had other ideas.

She took a breath, grabbed her bag and jacket and stepped out of the car. She struggled to open the timber gate that she’d been meaning to get repaired for the past three months and winced when the jagged edge caught her palm. Once inside her house, she dumped her handbag and laptop in the hall and took a few well-needed breaths.

I don’t want to do this....

But she’d promised Cameron.

And a promise is a promise....

Then she headed next door.

Once she’d rounded the tall hedge, Lauren walked up the gravel path toward the house. There was a brand-new Jeep Cherokee parked in the driveway. The small porch illuminated with a sensor light once she took the three steps. The light flickered and then faded. She tapped on the door and waited. She heard footsteps before the door swung back on its hinges, and she came face-to-face with him.

And then butterflies bombarded her stomach in spectacular fashion.

Faded jeans fitted lean hips, and the white T-shirt he wore accentuated a solid wall of bronzed and very fine-looking muscle. His short black hair, clean-shaven jaw and body to die for added up to a purely lethal combination.

He really is gorgeous.

Memories of what had happened by the pool came rushing back. His hands on her skin, his glittering gaze moving over her, his chest so close she could almost hear his heartbeat. Mesmerized, Lauren sucked in a breath. He knew all about her. He knew things she’d told only her closest friends. He knew she’d thought about him...and imagined things.

But if he dares say anything about my knees being weak, I’ll...

She finally found her voice. “I’m here...”

One brow cocked. “So I see.”

“Did Cameron—”

“He called,” he said, and smiled as he interrupted her.

“Is he...”

“He is.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and toward the door behind him. “Safe and sound and flaked out in front of the television.”

She ignored the smile that tried to make its way to her lips and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

When she didn’t move, he looked her over. “Are you coming inside or do you plan on camping on my doorstep all night?”

“All night?” she echoed, mortified that color was creeping up her neck. The idea of doing anything all night with Gabe Vitali took the temperature of her skin, her blood and pretty much every other part of her anatomy up a few notches. “Of course not.”

He dropped his arms to his sides and stepped back.

Lauren crossed the threshold and walked into the hall. He was close, and everything about him affected her on a kind of sensory level. As much as she didn’t want to admit anything, she was attracted to him. And worse luck, he knew it.

Her vow of celibacy suddenly seemed to be dissolving into thin air.

She walked down the short hallway and into the huge, open-plan living area. The furniture looked new and somehow out of place in the room. And sure enough, on the rug in front of the sofa, was her brother’s one hundred and fifty pound French Mastiff, Jed. Fast asleep and snoring loudly.

“Thanks for picking him up from my brother’s place,” she said as politely as she could. “When Cameron called this morning, he said the house sitter had left quickly.”

He nodded. “Her daughter is having a baby. She took a flight out from Bellandale after lunch and said she’d be back in a week.”

Lauren bit down on her lip. “A week?”

“That’s what she said.”

A week of dog-sitting. Great. As much as she liked Jed, he was big, needy, had awful juicy jowls and a reputation for not obeying anyone other than Cameron. Too bad her parents had a cat that ruled the roost, or she would have dropped him off there. She had to admit the dog seemed comfortable draped across Gabe’s rug.

She looked around some more. “So...you’ve moved in?”

“That was the general idea when I bought the house,” he replied.

Lauren’s teeth ground together. “Of course. I hope you’ll be very happy here.”

She watched his mouth twist with a grin. “You do? Really?”

“Really,” she said, and raised a disinterested brow. “Be happy, or don’t be happy. It’s nothing to do with me.”

His blue eyes looked her up and down with way too much leisure. The mood quickly shifted on a whisper of awareness that fluttered through the air and filled up the space between them. A change that was impossible to ignore, and there was rapidly enough heat in the room to combust a fire.

Warmth spread up her neck. He had a way of doing that to her. A way of heating her skin. “I need to...I need...”

“I think we both know what you need.”

Sex...

That was what he was thinking. Suddenly, that was what she was thinking, even though turning up on his doorstep had nothing to do with her lacking love life or her vow to stay celibate. Lauren’s cheeks burned, and her knees trembled. “I don’t know what—”

“You don’t like me much, do you?” he asked, cutting her off with such calm self-assurance, she wanted to slug him.

“I’m not—”

“Or is it because you do like me much?” he asked, cutting her off yet again. “And that’s why you’re so rattled at being in my living room.”

Conceited jerk! Lauren sucked in some air, pushed back her shoulders and called Jed to heel. By the time the dog got up and ambled toward her, she was so worked up she could have screamed. She grasped Jed’s collar and painted on a smile. “Thank you for collecting him from Cameron’s.”

“My pleasure.”

Pleasure? Right. Not a word she wanted to hear from him. Not a word she wanted to think about in regard to him. And when she was safely back in her own home, Lauren kept reminding herself of one thing...Mr. Right was not Mr. Right-Next-Door.