Dreams of Perfection (Dreams Come True) (24 page)

Epilogue

The Following May

Darcy’s satin slippers floated three feet above the lawn of her parents’ house, Josh’s hand clasped in hers. Everyone was there, all the people who meant so much to her, especially her Aunt Rosie, who’d opened her eyes to the true meaning of love and happily-ever-after. Even she couldn’t have written such a wedding celebration. In the space of a single baseball season, Darcy’s fairytale had come true.
Check that.
Her dream had come true.

The picture-perfect sky, all rich blue and white fluffy clouds, complemented the white bedecked tables and chairs set around the lawn beneath canopies strung with pale coral, turquoise, and green tulle. Alabaster roses topped the tables, matching the flowers in Darcy’s posy bouquet. The photographer followed along snapping memories—some candid, some posed. Champagne flowed like water, and the delicious hors d’oeuvres were served by none other than PrincessLeia22 and SluttyGirl.

She waved to Kelly as she and Brandon made their way to the dance floor. Kelly and Daniel had become members of their extended family, and Darcy counted her among her dear friends. Millie stood on the fringes, as she always seemed to do, talking with David. Anne looked beautiful in her bridesmaid’s gown, her face aglow as she and Matt swayed to Lifehouse.

Darcy had already performed the traditional wedding dance with her father and her first dance with her husband. Now free to enjoy the reception until the cake-cutting ceremony and bouquet toss, she walked with Josh, sipping champagne and secretly toasting her good fortune.  

Josh had managed to completely surprise her. When she’d stepped out of her parents’ house on her father’s arm and onto the runner for her walk down the aisle, she blinked in confusion. At the end of the aisle, just in front of the flower-covered arch sat Josh on the back of an enormous white horse, Daniel standing next to him as best man.

A giggle had escaped her, and she whispered to her father, “Did you know about this?” His knowing grin had said it all.

Darcy thought about all those years daydreaming about her knight charging across the lawn to whisk her away, making her dreams come true, and there he sat atop his white horse.

Once she’d reached the arch, Josh dismounted and gave her a sweeping bow, as a young man led the horse away.

Now, as they strolled toward the enormous main tent where guests danced to the “Cupid Shuffle,” she gave her Prince Charming’s hand a squeeze and he glanced down at her, a question in his eyes. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“For loving me so perfectly.”

Josh stood mes
merized by the love shining in his bride’s eyes. Love for him and him alone. She’d chosen him, without a word from him, without knowing if he returned her love. She’d chosen him, and he vowed never to make her regret that choice.

When she’d walked down the aisle in a cloud of white, her golden brown hair a cascade of curls around her shoulders, he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. No bride had ever looked so beautiful. His legs shook and he thought he’d fall trying to dismount. He hadn’t ridden since summer camps as a boy and feared the horse would bolt, or he’d get his foot caught in the stirrup and do a face-plant. But seeing the brilliance of Darcy’s smile when she saw him made any fear worth it.

He bent to brush his lips across hers. “Ditto, Mrs. Ryan.” He tasted her lips once more, then retreated a step. “You keep looking at me like that and the honeymoon will start sooner than planned.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” she said with a lusty grin.

Gloria watched the festi
vities with a sense of satisfaction in a job well done. Darcy looked every bit the fairy princess she’d always dreamed about in her white tulle confection, the white Swarovski crystals sprinkled about the skirt, catching the sun and tossing it back. Josh stood beaming by her side, an arm around her waist, dapper in a gray morning suit. One down, two more to go.

Gloria scanned the crowd until she found Millie, looking very un-Millie-like in her turquoise chiffon bridesmaid’s gown, her usually drab brown hair gleamed in an elegant twist, her lips a luscious Merlot color. “She cleans up well,” Gloria murmured to herself, though she’d heard Laura practically had to cuff her to the vanity chair so the stylist could work her magic.

Speaking of Laura, she scanned the crowd before spotting her, ever-stunning in her customary stilettos, her blond hair back in a sleek ponytail that fell almost to her waist, her coral bridesmaid’s gown showing off every curve.

“No rest for the weary,” Gloria said to herself as she rose and moved to stand next to Laura and her father and mother. Milton might as well have stayed home for all the attention he paid to the ceremony and reception. She’d have to give him a swift kick in the pants if he did this at Laura’s wedding. But right now his addiction to his smartphone worked to her benefit.

Spying her maid-of-honor acros
s the dance floor with Cherise and Milton, Darcy wove her way through the guests, accepting warm congratulations along the way. The photographer had announced the bouquet toss, and she wanted Laura front and center. Not that she expected Laura to settle down any time soon, if ever. Still, she’d like to see Laura catch it. Her height and athleticism gave her a definite advantage, but Darcy planned to aim well. Her friend deserved the same happiness she had found with Josh.

Milton looked up from his phone just as Darcy joined them, and said, “I just received an email from Jackson Jeffries, CEO of Imperial Cruise Lines—one of the largest luxury ship lines in the world, and our best customer—” he added for Darcy’s benefit. “They fired their advertising agency.”

Laura choked on the mouthful of booze she’d just swallowed.

“Laura, can’t you swallow your drink without making a scene?” Cherise chided. “If you can’t handle your alcohol, you shouldn’t be drinking it. Gracious, where are your manners?”

Darcy patted Laura’s back and offered her some water.

Milton turned to Cherise. “Doesn’t Mitchell McCutcheon’s son own an ad agency in Manhattan?”

“Now why on earth would I know something like that? Laura, do you know?”

Milton went back to his phone, fingers tapping on the screen.

Finally able to catch her breath, Laura blurted out, “I
work
for an ad agency! Why would you tell my competitor?”

Her father waved his hand dismissively. “Your agency could never handle such a large account.”

“Giddings-Rose is one of Madison Avenue’s oldest ad agencies. Of course we can handle the account.”

“Doesn’t matter now, I’ve already forwarded the email to Mitch.”

“We’ll see about that,” Laura muttered.

“What’s that? Speak up when you talk.” Cherise patted a hair back into place.

“Time for the bouquet toss.” Laura set her drink on a passing waiter’s tray.

Darcy shot a worried glance at Laura. Instead of the anger and frustration Darcy expected to see, she saw a predatory gleam in those cool blue eyes.
Ruh-roh
, she knew that look and it didn’t bode well for anyone who got in her way.

“Alrighty then.” Darcy gathered up her skirts in
one hand and her bouquet in the other. “Let’s do this.”

Josh and Darcy dashed through a shower of birdsee
d to the waiting limo emblazoned with the words JUST MARRIED across the back window. The wedding guests crowded around the car shouting best wishes for eternal happiness, salted with a few bawdy comments about the honeymoon activities.

As the car drove away with Josh and Darcy kissing in the back seat, Gloria raised her glass in a silent toast to happily-ever-after.

Also from
Soul Mate Publishing
and
Rebecca Heflin
:

RESCUING LACY

When tough battle-scarred photojournalist-turned-wildlife-photographer Lacey Sommers travels to Costa Rica in a last-ditch effort to save her job, she meets beach-bum-gorgeous Luke Hancock, an outdoor guide, environmentalist and expert on economics and sustainability, who’s been hired by her magazine to serve as her pilot and wilderness guide for the duration of her stay.

It’s clear from the outset there is a powerful physical attraction between the two, but strong personalities, pre-conceived notions, an unexpected and contentious family connection, and the scars from a tragic death and a terrifying event threaten to keep them apart.

Will Lacey shed the mantle of Kevlar she’s worn for so long and allow Luke inside her heart? Or will her ostensible strength be her downfall?

Now available at Amazon.com

http://tinyurl.com/plfdqqu

THE PROMISE OF CHANGE

Sarah Edwards loves stability, but now finds life has other plans for her. Divorced, bored, and twitchy, she’s convinced her impulsive, sometimes irrational decisions are the sign of a mid-life crisis, and the contradictory actions and emotions are giving her family and friends mental whiplash. Her abrupt resignation from her job is the final straw. But a two-week trip to England seems the perfect pick-me-up for this Anglophile and Austenite.

Enter Alex Fraser, a.k.a. the Earl of Rutherford, who although a member of the lucky sperm club, prefers to be known for what he’s accomplished, rather than a fate of birth. Despite his family’s disapproval, he is determined to work in his chosen profession of acting. He’s always preferred casual flings with beautiful women who have no illusions of marriage. That is, until he literally bumps into Sarah in an Oxford pub.

Despite an idyllic week together, Sarah gets cold feet and returns to the States determined to come back down to reality. A year later, the realization of Sarah’s life-long dream unexpectedly brings Alex back into her life, in what she believes is an ironic twist of fate. Will Sarah’s decisions leave her life in shambles, or will they lead to the promise of change?

Now available at Amazon.com

http://tinyurl.com/pztw9qh

Coming Soon from
Rebecca Heflin
:

SHIP OF DREAMS

Book #2 of the Dreams Come True series

BLURB

Advertising diva Laura Armstrong meets her match in Nathan Maxwell when he turns out to be her biggest obstacle to bagging a major account and a corner office. Will Nathan sink her ship of dreams before it ever leaves port, or will the way to love be smooth sailing?

EXCERPT

Laura Armstrong strode toward the building housing the New York offices of Imperial Cruise Lines. Her stiletto heels clicked a staccato on the sidewalk as she tested the limits of her snug pencil skirt.

Tapping out a message on her smart phone, her mind five steps ahead, she nearly took a header when the heel of her shoe plunged into a sidewalk seam. The text message all but forgotten, she twisted and turned, unable to dislodge the stubborn heel.

Risking a tear in the cherry red patent leather of her sky-high Louboutin ankle-straps—the ones with the plunging vamp revealing her sexy toe cleavage—wasn’t an option. But between the ankle strap and her figure-hugging skirt, she couldn’t slip out of the shoe, nor could bend over and unfasten it either.

Perfect.
She’d be late for her meeting with Imperial’s CEO.

Daddy Dearest thought Giddings-Rose couldn’t handle an account the size of Imperial.
Check that.
He thought
she
couldn’t
win
an account the size of Imperial.

Determined to prove her father wrong, she’d get the account and the corner office. That was if she could pry her heel out of the sidewalk.

Bustling New Yorkers in suits and skirts just stepped around her, dodging her like an out-of-place trashcan. “Well, sh—”

“Hold still, Sugar, or you’ll break the heel.” The masculine voice called to mind the mellow sweetness of the fine Kentucky Bourbon she’d once sipped at the Derby. Rich and mellifluous, with a hint of Southern graciousness. Even so, there was no denying the authoritative tone. “And that would be a damn shame.” The hand that wrapped around her ankle from behind was broad and masculine, but well-manicured, topped with an elegant Cartier watch.

Not her type. She preferred her men with a little more grit than polish. So why did tantalizing warmth spread up her leg?

With adept fingers, he unbuckled the ankle strap and lifted her foot from the still-lodged shoe. Having no other choice to avoid either resting her bare foot on the filthy Manhattan sidewalk or the humiliation of falling on her face, she reached back and grabbed his shoulder.

Hmm. No padding there.
Nothing but muscle beneath that expensive tropical weight wool suit. She caught a glimpse of charcoal gray fabric, dark hair, and Italian shoes in rich mahogany leather.

But she’d yet to lay eyes on her rescuer’s face.

Nathan Maxwell took advantage of the up-close and personal view. Trim ankles met shapely, muscular calves, and judging from the fit of her skirt, a firm derriere topped off those swimsuit-model legs. Beneath his touch, soft skin beckoned further exploration. Long honey-blond hair hung almost to her waist in a sleek ponytail. The fragrance of her haute couture perfume drifted over him, reminding him of magnolia-scented summer nights.

Focusing on the task at hand, he gently pried the heel from the sidewalk seam and examined it. “No harm done.” He grasped her ankle and settled her foot back into the shoe and fastened the strap, but not before noticing the firecracker-red nail polish. He laughed. “Here you go, Cinderella.”

The warmth of his laugh slid over her, knocking her a little off balance even though she’d placed her foot firmly back on the ground. “Thank you, uh . . .” She turned and looked up into golden brown eyes the color of that same sweet Kentucky Bourbon. 

“Nathan, Nathan Maxwell. My pleasure, ma’am.” He flashed a devastating grin, igniting gilded sparks in his eyes.

There was that Southern drawl again—subtle, like the peach undertones of a fine Pinot Gris. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“My accent give me away?” Her sardonic smile weakened Nathan’s knees more than any toothy grin ever did.

“No, your courtesy.”

Nathan chuckled. “My grandmother would have expected nothing less.” Her eyes, cool blue like the May sky overhead, captured his and held. No shrinking violet, this one, he mused. A full, determined mouth painted to match the red of her toenails set off an arresting face with high cheekbones, a stubborn chin, and aquiline nose.  

“Well, thank you, Nathan.” Maybe she should add suave polished men with a hint of Rhett Butler to her menu, Laura thought. Her phone, all but forgotten in her hand, buzzed. “I, uh, I’ve got to go. Thanks again, Nathan Maxwell.” Something about the way his name rolled off her tongue. She answered the phone as she walked away. “This is Laura.”

Nathan watched as she strode down the sidewalk, hips swaying to some inherent rhythm. “Come on, Laura, glance back.”

She turned and gave him what he wanted, another look at that bold, beautiful face.

“It’s going to be a great day.” Glancing at his watch, satisfied with the outcome of the errand that had brought him to this part of Manhattan in the first place, he hailed a cab back to his office.