Kiss the Bride (23 page)

Skye rode River out of the arena and walked him toward the lean-to. Once there, she dismounted and quickly set about removing his saddle and bridle.

“You're going to be a champ,” she said as she slipped his halter on. “Aren't you, boy?”

The horse's ears flicked forward and he turned his head away from her. She had to follow right along with him in order to fasten the buckle. That's when she saw Grant walking toward her.

An already perfect day got instantly better.

“Hey, Skye.” Small clouds of dirt rose behind his boots as he walked.

“Hey, Grant.” Her heart did a little trill in her chest.

They had spoken on the phone several times since his last dance lesson, but this was the first she'd seen him in person in several days. It surprised her, how the sight of him made her feel.

“River looked great out there,” he said, stopping nearby.

“You saw?”

“Some. I stayed in my Jeep. Didn't want to take a chance of disturbing him.” He paused. “Or you.”

One more thing to love about Grant. He knew better than to interrupt a horse in training. He was willing and able to be patient.

She said, “I thought you were working all day at the Leonards'.”

“I am. But I wanted to see you before I start cooking again.”

She didn't know if she should be delighted or worried. Was it something urgent? Or was it something he'd rather not say over the phone? Such as he couldn't go to her parents' home for Sunday dinner. Her mom would be disappointed if that was what he'd come to say.

“Come here, you.” He took hold of her upper arms and
drew her to him. “There. That's better.” He embraced her, holding her close.

“I'm all horsey.”

“I like horsey.” He kissed her on the forehead.

“And gritty.”

“I'll take my chances.” He lowered his head so their lips could meet. A long, slow, luscious kiss.

River snorted hard, spraying them both.

They broke apart. Neither of them spoke. Then, in unison, they laughed.

“River,” Grant said, “you're a real killjoy.” He reached for Skye's left hand and drew her away from the lean-to and the horse. “I've got something important to say, and I need your full attention.”

She sobered. “Okay. You've got it.” Her mouth went dry, and she found it hard to swallow.

“Skye Foster, since the day I met you, I haven't been able to think straight.”

Now she didn't seem able to breathe.

“But I feel like I know you better than some people I've known my whole life. I told you last Sunday that I wanted to see where things might go between us. That's not quite true anymore.”

“It isn't?” she whispered.

“No, because I already know where it's going. I already know what I feel.” He took a half step closer to her. “Call me crazy if you want, but . . . I love you.”

He loves me?

“I've never said that to a woman before. Never said it to anybody who isn't a member of my family. Never.”

You haven't?

“I'd like you to become a member of my family, Skye. Will you marry me?”

Vision blurred by unexpected tears, Skye's happiness bubbled over into laughter. Grant took a step back from her, and she realized he thought she was laughing at him, at his proposal.

“Wait. Grant. No. I mean, yes. Yes, I'll marry you.”

“You will? Wahoo!”

He picked her up underneath the arms and spun her around and around. Her legs flew out like swings at the carnival. The first thing he did when he set her down was kiss her again. Only the kiss was different this time. The kiss claimed her for his own. She felt winded by the time he straightened.

“I've gotta get back to work,” he said. “I don't want to, but I've got to.”

“I know. It's all right. Go.”

“I don't have a ring for you yet.”

“It's okay.”

“Can I come to your house tonight when I'm done at the Tamarack? It'll be late.”

She grinned. “That's okay too. I'll wait up.”

It was close to midnight before Grant pulled his Jeep into Skye's driveway. The light above the front stoop was on, shedding a warm yellow glow several feet in all directions. Another light inside the house told him he was expected.

He hopped out of the vehicle and strode to the front
door. Rather than ring the bell, he rapped lightly. The door opened in seconds. Skye looked up at him, eyes sleepy. Or would he call them dreamy?

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hi.” She shoved tousled hair back from her face.

“You were asleep.”

“On the sofa.”

He cupped the side of her face, leaned forward, and kissed her. “I shouldn't have asked you to wait up.”

“Yes, you should have. I needed to see you. I needed to know I wasn't dreaming earlier today.”

“You weren't dreaming.”

Holding on to the front of his shirt, she drew him over the threshold. He caught the open door with his fingertips and swiped it closed. He became instantly aware of how alone they were in this little bungalow. He remembered how easy it could be—with the right words, with the right look in his eyes, with the pressure of his lips—to help a girl let down her defenses.

Careful
, he warned himself.
Be careful
.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, intruding on the silence. “There's Coke in the fridge, or I could make some decaf.”

He wasn't thirsty, but a little distance between them might be a good thing. “Decaf would be great.”

“I'll get it for you.”

She turned and headed into the kitchen. He followed a few moments behind. On the opposite side of the kitchen bar, he sat on a stool and watched as she filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffeemaker's reservoir.

“Did you tell anybody?” he asked at last.

She faced him but stayed where she was. “No. I didn't know if you wanted me to yet.” She tipped her head slightly to one side. “Did you tell anyone?”

“No.” He smiled. “But it was hard not to with so many people in and out of the kitchen tonight. I thought I'd explode with the news. I didn't expect that. Then again, I didn't expect any of this. People tried to tell me it would be like this. My parents. My brothers and sisters. Have I mentioned the Nicholses are a romantic lot? I didn't think I got that particular gene, but I was wrong.”

“Not sure you told me about them being romantics. However, I can tell your parents raised you with good manners. When I'm with you I feel . . . protected.” She returned his smile. “Cherished.”

Who knew it would feel this good to hear her say something like that? And it made him determined to keep her feeling protected and cherished, determined not to hurt her or abuse her trust in even the smallest of ways.

“Grant?”

“Hmm.” It was hard not to get off the stool and go take her in his arms again.

“Let's wait to tell anybody here in Kings Meadow until after we have dinner with my parents on Sunday. Is that all right with you? I'd like the two of us to tell them in person first.”

The sounds and scent of coffee brewing filled the kitchen.

“Sure. That's fine with me. Do you think they'll take it all right? It happening so fast, I mean.”

She nodded. “I think so. As soon as they really get to meet you, they'll know we're right for each other.”

“I'll wait to call my parents until Sunday night.”

“Will they take it all right?”

He chuckled. “All they'll want to know is when do they get to meet you and how soon is the wedding.” Surprise shot through him when he realized how he wanted to answer them. “Can I tell them it will be soon?”

Her large, dark eyes widened, all traces of sleepiness long gone. “How soon?”

“How about at the end of September or early October?”

She walked toward him, stopping with the bar still between them. “Yes. The colors will be turning by then. A perfect backdrop for a wedding. It will be beautiful.”

“You're
beautiful.” He leaned across the kitchen bar and kissed her. “It may sound corny, Skye, but you've made me the happiest guy on earth.”

The way Skye felt, she couldn't believe the entire congregation
couldn't see the truth for themselves. It was a wonder everyone didn't come over at the end of the service and start shaking Grant's hand and congratulating them both.

But if anyone guessed she and Grant were engaged, no one let on, and the couple made it to her parents' home with their secret still intact. The next half an hour was pure agony while her mom and dad asked Grant questions and he answered them. But Skye could only hold back the announcement for so long.

When a lull in the conversation occurred, she reached over and took hold of Grant's hand. “Mom. Dad. Grant and I have something to tell you.” She tightened her grip. “We're getting married.”

“What?” her dad exclaimed.

Her mom shushed him. “Let her talk, Rand.”

“We know it seems fast,” Skye said. “We've only known each other a few weeks. But we're sure, Dad. We love each other. And we aren't rushing straight to the altar. We thought this fall would be a good time for the wedding.”

Grant cleared his throat. “Sir, I love your daughter.” He looked at her father with a steady gaze. “I'm as sure of that as I've ever been sure of anything. I promise I'll take care of her, be a good husband to her, cherish her always. You've got my word on it.” He put an arm around Skye's shoulders and hugged her close.

Her dad was quiet for a long while, then said, “Neither one of you are kids. You're old enough to make decisions for yourselves. I don't know you well, Grant, but I respect the men who are your friends. That says a lot about you. And Skye, you know your own mind. I never had to worry about you the way I worried about your brother and sister. You were always more focused and self-disciplined than they were. So if this is what you want, then God bless you. I hope you'll both be as happy as your mom and I have been all these years.”

Tears slipped down Skye's cheeks as she got up to hug her father. When she turned toward her mom, she saw that she was sniffling. Happy tears, judging by the smile on her lips.

After they'd exchanged a hug, too, her mom said, “I'd best get that roast out of the oven before it turns to charcoal.”

“I'll help.” Skye took two steps toward the kitchen, stopped, and turned to look once again at Grant. After several heartbeats, she mouthed the words,
I love you
. Then she left the room, her heart tripping with joy.

The meal was over, but they lingered at the dining room table over cups of coffee. Grant felt accepted by Skye's parents. No small thing. It was easy to envision a future full of friendly dinners like this one.

Midge rose from her chair and began to clear the table. Skye got up to help her. Soon, running water and the clatter of plates and clink of glasses could be heard from the kitchen.