A December Bride (A Year of Weddings Novella) (7 page)

BOOK: A December Bride (A Year of Weddings Novella)
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He pressed a kiss to her head. “I’d never joke about a honeymoon.”

Epilogue

L
ayla slid into a chair in the darkened corner of the town hall and slipped off her heels. The McKinley family had transformed the hall into a wonderland of silver and ice blue. Circular tables dotted the room, covered with white cloths and featuring small flower arrangements. People milled in groups, chatting, laughing, dancing.

She settled into the chair, twisting the rings on her finger, admiring the antique set. When Seth had presented his grandmother’s rings, she’d known it was the set she’d wear the rest of her life. The platinum band featured a round brilliant-cut diamond. A curved row of channel-set diamonds filled out the other band, curling intricately around the larger diamond.

One of her favorite country tunes began, and Layla considered another turn on the dance floor, but her aching feet said no.

The past several days had been a whirlwind. The Silent
Night Tour of Houses had been a raging success. Seth’s home had taken the People’s Choice Award, and Layla had walked away with a contract from Malcolm Realty.

She took a moment to breathe a prayer of thanks. She was going to be very busy in the coming weeks. Busy doing what she loved. Busy starting her new life with Seth.

After the tour ended, Madison had taken her dress shopping. They’d found a simple but beautiful dress at a boutique in Louisville. Madison said she was stunning in it, and if the look on Seth’s face as she came down the aisle was any indication, he agreed.

Her eyes scanned the crowd for her groom, and she found him walking toward her, his eyes fixed on her. He looked so handsome in his crisp white shirt and bowtie—he’d ditched the suit coat shortly after arriving at the reception.

She watched him approach, taking in his broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. His dark hair, free for once from his baseball cap, curled enticingly at the collar of his shirt. His eyes sparkled under the lights, and his lips curved in that adorable half smile of his.

All mine.

And she couldn’t wait to get him alone. They were spending their wedding night at his place. Tomorrow they were off to Maui. A whole week of sand, sunshine, and Seth. She couldn’t help the giddy smile that formed as he neared.

He dropped into the seat beside her and leaned in close, his thigh pressing against hers. “What put that pretty smile on your face?”

“You.”

He rewarded her with a long look and followed up with
a lingering kiss. The kind that made her wish the evening was over. He palmed her face, deepening the kiss. His fingers threaded into the loose hair at her nape, sending shivers down her arms.

The song wound to a close, and the microphone squealed.

“All right, everyone,” Mr. McKinley said over the intercom. “I’m told it’s time to see the couple off. Gather out front, please.”

Seth drew away. “I hope it’s okay. I told him we were ready.”

She gave him a final kiss. “You read my mind.”

Seth tugged her to her feet.

“My shoes!” she said, scrambling for them.

He helped her slip them on, and they made their way toward the door where the crowd was gathering out front. She gave last-minute hugs to her family.

Madison appeared, slipping Layla’s coat around her shoulders. “You’re going to need this.”

“Did someone pull the car around?” Layla asked Seth as they stepped outside into the crowd. Birdseed rained down on them. She squealed and ducked her head against the onslaught.

Seth grabbed her hand, pulling her through the tunnel of well-wishers. They emerged unscathed at the sidewalk, laughing and brushing the birdseed from their hair and clothes.

When Layla raised her head, she paused at the sight on the street. A horse-drawn sleigh waited curbside. In the front seat Mr. Stephens, holding the reins, winked at her.

“Come on, wife,” Seth said. “Your ride awaits.”

She gave Seth a huge smile as he helped her into the backseat. The sleigh teetered as he entered behind her. He set a blanket over their laps, then they waved to the cheering crowd as the sleigh pulled away.

A few moments later only the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves and the shush of the runners broke the silence of the night.

Seth adjusted the blanket and tucked Layla close. “Warm enough?”

“Yes.” Though the air was chilly, she felt snug under the thick blanket, curled into her husband’s side. “I can’t believe you did this.”

He leaned close, his warm breath stirring the hair at her temple. “It’s going to cost you.”

She stifled a smile, remembering their bet and the subsequent payout.

“And I’m not settling for a kiss this time,” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He leaned in and feathered her lips with a kiss. “But we’ll start there and see where it goes.”

Her smile quickly faded as he kissed her again, and soon all she heard was the beating of her own heart.

Discussion Questions

1. Who is your favorite character and why?

2. Layla went to a lot of extremes to reach her goal of working with Stanley Malcolm. Have you ever gone overboard in trying to reach your goals? What was the outcome?

3. Layla worried too much about how others perceived her. How did this affect her decisions? Do you worry too much about what others think of you?

4. Layla blamed Seth for her breakup with Jack because she needed someone to blame. Have you ever found yourself in a similar situation? How did it work out?

5. How is Layla’s profession a reflection of how she views herself?

An Excerpt from Barefoot Summer

M
adison McKinley scanned the crowded town hall, wondering how many of her friends and neighbors she’d have to fight to get what she came for. Half of Chapel Springs had turned out to support the fire department. The faint scent of popcorn and coffee from last night’s Rotary club meeting still lingered in the air, and the buzz of excitement was almost palpable.

When she reached the front of the line, she registered for her paddle, then looked for her mom. She spotted Joann McKinley seated on the left, near the old brick wall.

Before Madison could move, Dottie Meyers appeared in the busy aisle. “Madison, hello, dear. I was wondering if I could bother you about Ginger. I found a little knot behind her leg. I’m worried it might be something serious.”

Last time it had only been a burr. Still, Madison set a hand on the woman’s arm. “I’m sure it’s fine, but I’ll have Cassidy call you tomorrow and squeeze you in, okay?”

“All right, everyone,” the emcee was saying into the mike. “It’s about that time.”

“Thank you so much, dear,” Dottie was saying. “I’m so excited about this year’s play. It’s called
Love on the Line.
You are planning on coming out again, aren’t you? You’ll be fabulous as Eleanor.”

Auditions were still two months away. “Looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.” Madison participated in the town’s production every year. She enjoyed the theater, and the proceeds supported the local animal shelter, a cause she was committed to.

She turned toward her mom and ran straight into a wall.
“Ooomph.”

Or a chest. A hard chest.

She looked up into the face of the one man she least wanted to see, much less slam into. She jumped back, looking square into his unfathomable coal-colored eyes.

She nodded once. “Beckett.”

He returned the nod. “Madison.”

His black hair was tousled. He wore a Dewitt’s Marina work shirt and at least two days’ stubble. His jaw twitched. She hadn’t spoken to him since she’d confronted him two weeks ago—for all the good it had done.

“Please take your seats,” the emcee said.

Gladly.

She stepped to the left at the same time as Beckett. He was wide as Boulder Creek and twice as dangerous. She’d always thought so. The incident with her little sister had only confirmed it.

“Excuse me,” she said.

He slid right and swept his arm out as if to say,
After you, princess.

She shot him a look, then hurried down the aisle and slid into a metal chair beside her mom.

“Hi, sweetie. Good day?” Mom’s short blond hair and blue eyes sparkled under the fluorescent lights, but it was her smile that lit the room.

“Twelve dogs, seven cats, two bunnies, and a partridge in a pear tree.”

Beckett passed her row and slid into a seat up front by his sister. Layla had long brown hair and a model-pretty face. Their mom must’ve been beautiful, though Madison didn’t remember her. Beckett leaned over and whispered something to his sister.

Madison tore her eyes away and loosened her death grip on the auction paddle. She refused to think about Beckett O’Reilly tonight.

The emcee took the podium and spoke about the importance of the fire station and their financial needs, then she introduced the auctioneer—hardly necessary since he also ran the local gas station. Moments later the bidding was under way.

Madison’s eyes swung to Beckett’s dark head. She could swear he was stalking her lately. He seemed to be everywhere she turned. If anything, the man should be avoiding her. Should feel ashamed of … well, whatever he did to Jade.

Madison tracked the auction items, ticking off each one as they sold to the highest bidder. A handmade quilt, piano lessons, pie of the month, a cabin rental at Patoka Lake, and dozens of other things generously donated by the community.

Someone had made a miniature replica of the town’s sign. W
ELCOME
TO
C
HAPEL
S
PRINGS
, I
NDIANA
, it said. P
RETTIEST
R
IVER
T
OWN IN
A
MERICA.
A writer from
Midwest Living
had used the phrase twelve years ago, and the town had squeezed every last drop from it.

Evangeline Simmons, eighty-five if she was a day, amused all by driving up the bids. It was no secret that the fire department had saved her beloved Persian from a tree last month. So far her generosity had left her with two items she probably had no need for. But money was no object for Evangeline.

People trickled out as the auction wore on. Beckett left after losing a tool kit. Over an hour later, Madison grew tense as her item came up. The auctioneer read from the sheet.

“All right, ladies and gentlemen, this next one’s a winner. Dewitt Marina has kindly donated a sailing/regatta package. Lessons taught by sailing enthusiast Evan Higgins. Learn how to race on the beautiful Ohio River, just in time for our 45th Annual River Sail Regatta, and sail with Evan Higgins, winner of the regatta for two years running! Now, who’ll give me five hundred?”

Madison’s grip tightened on the handle, waiting for the auctioneer to lower the bid. Her breath caught in her lungs.
Patience, girl.

“All right, a hundred, who’ll give me a hundred? A hundred-dollar bid …?”

Casually, Madison lifted her paddle.

“A hundred-dollar bid, now a hundred fifty, who’ll give me one and a half …?”

In her peripheral vision she could see her mom’s head
swing toward her just as Evangeline raised her paddle—and the bid.

“A hundred fifty, who’ll give me two, now two …?”

Madison lifted her paddle, keeping her eyes straight ahead.

“Two hundred, now who’ll give me two fifty, fifty, fifty …? Got it! Now three, three hundred, who’ll give me three …?”

Madison sighed, waited a moment before nodding.

“Three, now who’ll give me three and a half, three fifty, fifty, fifty …?”

Evangeline turned toward Madison, her eyes twinkling. She raised her paddle.

Evangeline.
Madison hadn’t counted on spending so much. Would serve the lady right if she dropped out. Just imagining the spry old woman on the bow of a boat, trying to manage the ropes and sails and whatnot, all four-foot-eleven of her … It was tempting.

Madison could, after all, just go down to the marina and buy the lessons, but then she wouldn’t be virtually assured of a win, would she? She needed Evan Higgins for that.

“Three fifty, do I hear three fifty …? Got it! Now four, who’ll give me four …?”

A murmur had started in the crowd that remained, a few chuckling at Evangeline’s antics.

The woman lifted her paddle.

“And now we’re at four and a half, four and a half, who’ll give me five, five, five …?”

Madison clenched her jaw. She glared at Evangeline’s silver head.
It’s a good cause. It’s a good cause.

“And we have five, five, who’ll give me five fifty, five fifty, five and a half …?”

The rumbling had grown louder, though half the crowd was gone now that the auction was nearly over. The remaining people were being rewarded for their patience with a good show.

“Five fifty, fifty, fifty …?”

Evangeline turned, and their eyes met. Her thin lips widened into a grin, then she folded her hands on top of her paddle.

“I’ve got five, now, five fifty, five fifty … anyone, five fifty …? And … sold at five hundred to Madison McKinley.”

Madison expelled a heavy breath. She was five hundred dollars poorer, but she had her lessons. She was going to learn to sail, and she was going to win the regatta. For Michael’s sake.

The story continues in
Barefoot Summer
by Denise Hunter.

About the Author

D
enise Hunter is the best–selling author of many novels, including
The Trouble with Cowboys
and
Barefoot Summer.
She lives in Indiana with her husband, Kevin, and their three sons.

Also by Denise Hunter

Novellas included in
Smitten
and
Secretly Smitten

T
HE
C
HAPEL SPRINGS NOVELS
Barefoot Summer

T
HE
B
IG
S
KY
R
OMANCE
S
ERIES
A Cowboy’s Touch
The Accidental Bride
The Trouble with Cowboys

N
ANTUCKET
L
OVE
S
TORIES
Driftwood Lane
Seaside Letters
The Convenient Groom
Surrender Bay
Sweetwater Gap

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