Big Sky Wedding (29 page)

Brylee stared at him, blinked once or twice, but since most of the English language remained just out of her reach, she said nothing. Her mind, though, was in overdrive.

Zane Sutton
loved
her? Yikes. Did she love him back?
Yes,
her soul cried out, though her tongue was still in dry dock.

“Listen up,” he went on, calmer now, but his tone as matter-of-factly blunt as ever. “This is how it’s going to be. We’re giving this relationship six months. We’ll ride horseback, go out to dinner, take in a movie once in a while—hell, we can even play miniature golf if you take the notion—but I’m not walking away from whatever’s happening here, and, by God, Brylee, neither are you.”

She finally found her voice, though it was little more than a squeak. “Did you just say you love me?”

His chiseled features softened almost imperceptibly, but Zane still meant business, that was just as clear. “That’s what I said,” he practically growled. He was still braced against her desk, his face was still a fraction of an inch, if that, away from her own. “Tell me you don’t feel the same way, Brylee, that we don’t have something special happening here, and I’ll walk out of here and never bother you again. But that’s the
only
thing that will do the trick.”

Brylee stumbled over options for a moment. She couldn’t tell Zane she didn’t love him—because she did. She knew that, knew it with everything she was and everything she had.

This was, just as he’d said,
special.
As in, probably never-again special.

“I love you, Zane Sutton,” she said. “I wish I didn’t, because that would be safer and simpler, but I do.”

Zane grinned then, and relief glimmered in his eyes now. “You agree to the plan, then?” he asked, after a few moments, during which the earth seemed to alter its orbit around the sun, at least for her. “Six months of getting to know each other, a normal courtship?”

Brylee swallowed, blinked back another spate of tears, happy ones this time. She nodded, managed a misty smile. “And I won’t even insist on a round of miniature golf,” she offered.

He threw back his head and laughed at that, and the sound was filled with joy.

“You could kiss me now,” Brylee suggested.

Much to her surprise, Zane straightened his back then, eyed her solemnly and shook his head no.

“That might lead to sex,” he explained gravely, and in his own sweet time.

“Well, not
instantly,
” Brylee responded, in full blush, at last trusting her legs to hold her up and getting to her feet. “Not here in the office, I mean...”

When she stood facing him, a mischievous grin curling her lips at the corners, Zane took her shoulders gently but firmly into his hands.

“No sex,” he repeated.

“Are you kidding?” Brylee asked, once she’d caught her breath. “Last night was—”

“Last night was all the proof either of us should need that we’re good together in bed,” he interrupted, serious as St. Peter guarding the pearly gates, keeping the would-be crashers at bay.

“But...this is—”

“But nothing, Brylee,” Zane said. “Sex complicates things, muddies the waters. This is the most important thing that’s ever happened to me, and I want to get it right.”

Brylee’s eyes widened. Another shift altered the terrain of her heart, which was still raw from the
last
upheaval, swapping deserts for oceans and stony canyons for green meadows.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. But it just so happens that I have a stipulation to make myself.”

His grin slanted, and love danced in his eyes. “Shoot,” he said, and waited to hear her terms.

She slipped both arms around his neck. “We’re not sealing this deal with a handshake, mister,” she informed him. Then, her lips a breath from his, she whispered a command. “Kiss me, cowboy. Right here and right now.”

EPILOGUE

Six months later

T
HREE
T
REES
F
IRST
P
RESBYTERIAN
church was packed with wedding guests that mid-December evening, as fat flakes of crystalline snow drifted lazily from a twilight sky.

Candles flickered, casting spells all their own, and the bridesmaids—Amy, a Madonna-pregnant Casey and Clare—wore red velvet gowns, floor-length and trimmed in white fur, with hats to match. In lieu of flowers, they carried muffs embellished with sprigs of holly, and the giant evergreen in the entryway behind Brylee and Walker perfumed the air and splashed white fairy lights over the bride’s veil and white velvet gown.

Up front, with the minister and Nash and Landry, Zane looked downright elegant in his perfectly fitted tuxedo. His gaze, along with that of everyone else in the sizable church sanctuary, was riveted on Brylee, her face covered by a billowing, rhinestone-studded veil, her arm linked with Walker’s.

Brylee’s heart tripped into a faster beat, and happiness brimmed to overflowing within her, but she was only human, and a little trepidation, especially considering her
last
wedding, seemed natural.

The first chord of the march sounded, ringing through the familiar church.

Casey looked back, winked at Brylee and started, with remarkable grace for someone due to give birth in approximately fifteen minutes, toward the altar.

Amy followed, beaming with delight, and not just because Brylee was
finally
getting married for real. Amy had just been made acting CEO of Décor Galore, and she and Bobby were in counseling, too, with every hope of working their way back to each other.

Clare, the last to make the long, measured walk, took a moment to turn around, hug her aunt hard and whisper, “This is
it,
Brylee.
Be happy.
” With that, she, too, headed up the rose-petal-scattered aisle.

Walker looked down at Brylee, smiled and squeezed her arm. “Ready?” he asked.

Brylee drew a very deep breath, let it out slowly. “Ready,” she replied.

Then it was zero hour. The moment had come.

Brylee closed her eyes briefly, offered up a silent and very fervent prayer and allowed Walker to guide her, since she was in a daze, seeing nothing but the gossamer netting of her veil and Zane, standing tall at the front of the church, waiting for her, watching her with a love she knew to be solid, true and forever.

Still, the midway point was something of a milestone, that being where Hutch had announced that he couldn’t go through with the rest of the ceremony the last time around, but Zane’s gaze never wavered. He seemed to be
willing
her forward, to take her place at his side, not just for that night, but for always and always.

For Brylee, everything happened in slow motion after that.

Walker gave her away, his voice gruff with pride and love, and tears rolled down Casey’s, Amy’s and Clare’s faces, even as the brightness of their smiles rivaled the candlelight.

Zane moved to stand beside her and subtly took her hand, gave her fingers a gentle squeeze, full of meaning.
I’m here to stay, babe. For good.

Brylee’s throat tightened and went so dry she was afraid her vows might come out as gruff croaks, but the whole ceremony went without a hitch, right down to “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

After the kiss, though, Zane broke tradition by sweeping his bride up into his arms and
carrying
her back down the aisle, while the wedding guests laughed and cried and even applauded.

The reception, over at the Somerset Inn, passed in a blur, just as the wedding had. There were photographs to pose for, and the usual, precious routine of feeding each other cake while cameras clicked all around them.

There was that first dance, with Brylee and Zane alone on the floor at first, while the band spun out the old standard “At Last,” the music unfurling like bright, multicolored banners and causing more clapping, laughing and crying among the guests.

“
Now
can we have sex?” Brylee whispered to Zane, a couple of hours later, when the celebration was finally beginning to wind down. Six months of close but hands-off proximity was all she could stand, and she made no secret of it, with her new husband at least.

Zane laughed. “Well, not
now,
” he retorted, with a twinkle. “But the moment the door of the bridal suite closes behind us? Hold on to something, Mrs. Sutton, because I’m planning on taking you down.”

Everything inside Brylee crackled at the prospect. Six months was a long, long time to abstain, but they’d managed it. Somehow.

Soon after the spicy exchange with Zane, Brylee danced with Walker, who informed her, with a sparkle in his eyes, that Casey thought she might be starting labor, so they’d be heading straight for the small hospital in Parable, in short order. Clare had her driver’s license now, and she’d get herself, Shane and Preston home just fine.

Brylee said she was worried about road conditions, but Walker silenced her with a brotherly kiss on the forehead.

“This is your wedding night, sweetheart,” he reminded her. “And that’s all you need to think about.”

The song ended, and before Walker could lead his kid sister off the dance floor, Hutch appeared in front of her, grinning. He and Kendra had a son now, in addition to their two daughters; they’d been cheek to cheek during the reception, even when the music wasn’t playing. Both of them were lit from within.

Brylee smiled up into the face of the man she’d once believed she loved, and was destined to spend the rest of her life with. “Thank you,” she said, very softly.

Hutch arched one eyebrow, pretending to be puzzled, but his grin was unchanged. “Told you so,” he teased. “Remember?”

“I remember,” Brylee confirmed, as they moved in time to the music. She was getting tired; she wanted to get out of her beautiful but cumbersome dress and especially her high heels, but this moment was almost as much a part of her wedding as the vows and the music and the flickering candlelight. “You said I’d thank you for calling it off someday, when I met the right man.” She scanned the couples surrounding them, spotted Zane waltzing with Clare, his head thrown back as he laughed at something she’d said. “And you were right, Hutch. Once again, thank you.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead, much as Walker had done, and when the set was over, he squeezed her hand, grinned again and walked away.

Zane was immediately there, taking her into his arms.

“Happy?” he asked.

“Happy doesn’t begin to cover it,” Brylee replied, gazing up at him. “I love you, Zane Sutton.”

“And I love
you,
Mrs. Sutton. Now, what do you say we sneak out of here and get started on our honeymoon?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Brylee said, grinning.

* * *

B
RYLEE
WONDERED
,
AS
Zane set her back on her feet inside the modest but beautifully decorated bridal suite, if any bride had ever gotten naked as quickly as she did.

She took a look around, saw that a cheery fire crackled on the hearth, champagne cooled in a silver bucket full of ice, fat snowflakes were falling beyond the windows, and the floor, as well as the bed, had been liberally sprinkled with all-color flower petals, bright as the pieces of a broken rainbow.

And she practically scrambled out of the magnificent dress and the heavy petticoat beneath, tore off the twinkling veil, kicked away the satin shoes that had been pinching her feet from “I do” onward and stood before her groom in silk stockings, a teddy, what was left of her summer tan, and the elegant silver cuff bracelet Zane had given her a few months before, as a sort of pre-engagement gift. The exquisitely fashioned horse-head in its center represented their shared love of animals, and, like her rings, she rarely took the piece off.

With an appreciative chuckle, Zane locked the door behind them without turning away from her. He divested her of the stockings and then the teddy, and then, hooking a finger under the knot of his string tie, he worked that loose. Pretending to remember something crucial, he snapped his fingers and said, “Damn. I forgot to bring condoms.”

Brylee helped him out of the fancy tuxedo coat, the cummerbund, the snow-white shirt with its pleated front. “Good,” she said, splaying her hands over his wonderful chest. “We can make a baby.”

He laughed, kissed her teasingly, ran his hands over her shoulders, her breasts, the curves of her waist and hips. “That’s a fine idea,” he said, as though pleasantly surprised by her decision.

In truth, they’d agreed weeks ago to start their family as soon as possible, and they’d both been busy rearranging their lives, making room for each other.

Zane’s house had been transformed, thanks to the amazing Cleo, probably still kicking up her flashy heels at the reception, and her devoted construction crews. Toby had already been installed in the renovated barn, along with Nash’s horse, Luckdragon, and, of course, Blackjack. Nash was now Zane’s legal ward, a permanent part of the family, and he seemed to love it.

Brylee, for her part, wasn’t ready to sell Décor Galore outright, or to go public, but in a year, when her personal sabbatical ended, she might just do that. In the meantime, Amy was definitely rising to the challenges of running a major company, blossoming under the increased responsibility and certainly the much larger paycheck, and Brylee knew she could trust her friend not only to take care of her “baby” but cause it to thrive.

Zane kissed away every coherent thought in Brylee’s head over the next few minutes and, somehow, they wound up lying on the fake-fur rug in front of the fireplace, Zane as naked as she was.

Brylee ached to be joined to him again, and she knew Zane felt the same way, but his damnable self-control was the stuff of legends—very private ones, of course.

He still knew where to touch her, where to kiss, where to nibble or use his tongue, and in no time at all, he’d transformed her into that fitful she-wolf she’d been before, moaning and writhing with primitive need.

Finally, in complete desperation, Brylee locked her fingers in his love-tousled hair and pulled him into another kiss, this one so steamy, so commanding, that Zane was doing all the groaning.

“Inside me,” she rasped, when the need for air forced them to pause. “I need you
inside me,
Zane.”

He took her quickly, with a hard, deep thrust, and if she hadn’t been so busy flexing with the instant climax that resulted, she might have been surprised, given the way he’d drawn things out that night after the barbecue at Hutch and Kendra’s.

But the sweet violence seizing and then reseizing, in the innermost parts of her kept her fully occupied.

Finally, with a sigh, she was satisfied—only to feel yet another release building inside her, more slowly this time, and even more treacherously, deliciously powerful.

Zane, meanwhile, moved upon her, inside her, at an exquisitely slow pace. He told her he loved her, that she was beautiful, that she was
his
now, as much as she was her own.

Could love break a heart?

Yes, Brylee concluded breathlessly, moving in rhythm with her husband, climbing, climbing, arching her back to take him deeper, not only into her body, but into her soul itself. Love was breaking
her
heart, in those glorious moments of fast-approaching ecstasy, breaking it
open,
enlarging the mysterious interior and flooding it with light, making room for Zane and for their children, and for their children’s children.

With a lusty shout, Brylee gave herself to her man, completely.

And she received all of Zane Sutton in return. For keeps.

* * * * *

Look for Linda Lael Miller’s next Parable book,
BIG SKY SECRETS, on sale
from Harlequin HQN in January 2014
at your favorite retail outlet.