When Bruce Met Cyn (22 page)

Cyn got snatched into the tight group hug she'd avoided only moments before, along with some shrill girl shrieks and a little dancing and jiggling and carrying on.

Never in her life had Cyn done the “girl” thing, and she thought it was pretty damn silly. Everyone in the florist shop was staring at them, and sort of smiling in tolerance.

Shay said, “I'd love to!”

And Luna added, “Me, too! And I know Julie will be thrilled.”

And then, before she knew it, Cyn found herself bouncing with them, laughing, too, full of excitement—until Bryan came barreling around the corner with muscles tensed and murder in his eyes.

He pulled up short when he saw the women all squeezed together and going in circles and he rolled his eyes. Lips tight, he pointed a finger at Shay, started to speak, tried again, and finally drew a deep breath instead. “Okay, so no one is attacking you?”

Biting back a grin, Shay lifted her shoulders in apology. “No.”

“This is”—he flapped a hand at them—“girl stuff?”

Luna raised her chin. “That's right. And you're not a girl, so go away.”

He narrowed his eyes, shook his head, and said something too low for the women to hear. With a nod to Cyn, he groused, “Sorry for the interruption.” He stalked off, mumbling to himself, and Luna, with one quick look at Shay, fell into berserk laughter again.

“Get used to it, honey,” Shay told Cyn. “Men are like that, always on guard and always hovering.”

Luna managed to stifle her hilarity enough to say, “Joe is the absolute worst, but I wouldn't have him any other way. The kids feel cherished, and truthfully? So do I.”

“Same here,” Shay agreed.

Because Bruce was just as bad, or just as good, according to your perspective, Cyn didn't need the warning. The man was making the ultimate sacrifice for her. She knew all about overprotective men. “Joe and Bryan will stand up with Bruce?”

“Bruce asked yesterday,” Luna told her. “I know Joe will pretend otherwise, because he hates suits, but he'll be honored.”

“And Scott will have his hands full with Alyx. She does love to bedevil him.” Shay grinned. “One of these days, Alyx is going to let Scott think he caught her, when she's been the one doing all the chasing.”

“Poor Scott just doesn't know it,” Luna agreed.

“She's a female version of Joe, and I swear, if that isn't enough to curl your hair, then I don't know what is.”

“I want Jamie to come, too,” Cyn told them, but both women gave helpless shrugs.

“Unless we see him between now and then, there's no way to invite him. He doesn't have a phone and the mailman doesn't exactly scale the mountain to drop off correspondence.”

“You can wish it,” Luna added, “but you won't know if he's coming until he shows up. That's just Jamie's way.”

Cyn decided that was good enough. She turned back to the floral clerk. “I want a small bouquet with a few sweetheart roses.”

“And baby's breath,” Luna added.

“And forget-me-nots, for tradition,” Shay insisted. “Ohh, maybe in pale blue to match your eyes!”

Bowing to their better judgement, Cyn asked, “And rose boutonnieres?”

“Perfect,” Luna said, and hooked her arm through Cyn's. “Now let's wrap this up. I need to buy a dress for a wedding.”

It was a beautiful, sunny day with a light breeze coming in off the lake and the scent of wildflowers in the air. Julie, Shay, and Luna wore simple sheaths of pale, frosty blue, and they were all radiant.

But Cyn, now his wife, was more beautiful than anything Bruce had ever seen. She had her thick hair piled up on top of her head with some sparkly, delicate thing entwined in her dark locks. The dress left her creamy shoulders and upper breasts on display, and at the moment, even her ears were turning him on.

He'd asked his dad to keep the vows simple and fast, to spare Cyn. She alternated between looking totally lost and afraid, and glowing with joy. After picking out her dress, she'd confided that not once, ever, had she attended a ceremony. No birthday parties, no graduations, no weddings and no funerals. She'd been a hooker, but she didn't like being center stage. She'd gleefully engage in a fight with a trucker, but she didn't like special attention.

And so his dad had kept it short and sweet, and Cyn, right on cue, had whispered, “I do.” Now she was married, bound to him for all of his life. Bruce couldn't be happier. Or more aroused.

The past few weeks had served as prolonged foreplay and he was so primed, so hungry to have her, that he shook every time he looked her way. And he couldn't stop looking. She smiled and his heart raced. She laughed and he wanted to throw her over his shoulder and—

Joe whacked him on the back. “Get a grip, man. You're embarrassing me.”

It wasn't easy, but Bruce drummed up a modicum of control. He was on a bench near the house, watching his wife—
his wife
—talk with Joe's children, Austin and Willow. Someday, they'd have kids, too. Cyn would make an incredible mother—

Bryan laughed. “Give up. He's a goner.”

“He's been celibate too long,” Joe said. “I told you it wasn't healthy.”

Bryan sat down so close, Bruce had to scoot over an inch. Only he couldn't, because Joe was there. They hemmed him in, and Bruce knew they were anxious to rib him over his newly married bliss.

“Yeah, well, his celibacy will be over in…” Bryan glanced at his watch, “…oh, two or three hours.”

Bruce stared at him. “No, I won't make it that long.”

And both Joe and Bryan roared with laughter.

“All right,” Bryan said, “I'll take pity on you.”

He stood and called the single men to line up for the ritual removing of the garter.

Bruce got dragged to his feet reluctantly. “I don't want all you yahoos staring at her legs.”

“Tough,” Joe told him, and then got distracted with Scott. “Look at him, the poor sap. He looks like a turkey on Thanksgiving Day.”

Bryan laughed. “That's because Alyx is ready to pounce.”

Bruce stared at Alyx Winston. Like his wife, Alyx had long, dark hair, only Alyx had left hers loose and now it danced in the breeze. She'd worn a beautiful, light green, sheer summer dress that landed just at her knees and she'd already removed her shoes to stand barefoot, feet planted apart, in the warm grass. And she did, indeed, look ready to tackle Scott.

To Bruce's mind, Alyx resembled a female warrior. Not that she was brawny, far from it, but her attitude was that of a conquering Amazon, and she put real grit in everything she did.

As she looked at Scott, Bruce smiled in amusement. “She is rather concentrated on him, isn't she?”

Bryan nodded. “The woman's a terror.”

“She never terrorized you,” Joe reminded him.

Bryan shrugged. “She was never really after me.”

Scott, who was doing his manly best to ignore Alyx, stood next to Joe's ten-year-old son, Austin, and behind them both was Jamie Creed. Bruce had no idea how Jamie had known about the wedding, but he was glad he'd shown up because Cyn would have been upset otherwise.

Even Bryan and Bruce's father joined the bachelors.

Bruce went to his radiant wife, knelt on one knee, lifted her skirt, and, ignoring the cheers, slid her garter down. Just doing that, and with Joe and Bryan heckling him, had him at the end of his fuse. He needed to get her alone, and soon.

Bruce looked out in the crowd, aimed for his father just for the fun of it, and shot the garter.

Unfortunately, it smacked Scott right in the forehead. He groaned and pretended to reel while Austin tried laughingly to keep him upright. Scott scooped the boy up and they both went down in the grass.

Alyx hurried over with false sympathy and a seductive, “Poor baby,” that had Scott rigid in only a heartbeat. But he wasn't fast enough to remove himself. Alyx was already on her knees and easing his head in her lap. Scott's only defense seemed to be playing dead. It didn't deter Alyx, but the moment Cyn prepared to throw the bouquet, Alyx dropped his head with a
thunk
and pushed back to her feet.

There were only three available females in the group. Because Willow was only fifteen, and because Julie was totally disinterested in giving up her newfound freedom, the two of them chatted a few feet away while Alyx stood with her hands on her hips, ready to nab the prize. Cyn turned her back, closed her eyes, and pitched the flowers into the air.

Grinning, Alyx reached up. But just as the bouquet would have landed in her arms, Scott, who was still on the ground, grabbed her ankle and sent her toppling into his lap. Out of sheer instinct, Julie caught the flowers against her chest.

That brought hilarity to everyone but Alyx, who tried to yell, but couldn't—not with Scott kissing her.

Bruce looked at all his wacky friends, laughed with the sheer joy of it, and returned to his wife.

“Hello.”

She was breathless, flushed. Stunning. “Hi.”

In such a short time, she had become the most important person in his world. Bruce cupped her face and stared down at her, wishing she could understand what she meant to him, how much joy she'd brought to him. “I think that finishes all the ridiculous rituals and now I can finally get you alone.”

“Finally,” Cyn agreed, and her eyes were sparkling in anticipation.

Julie approached them to hand Cyn back her bouquet. “I think brides like to keep these things.”

Bruce hugged Julie into his other side. “So what do you think? Has your romantic future been given a nudge by fate?” He nodded at the bouquet that Cyn now held.

Julie said, “No,” at the same time that Jamie said, “Yes.”

With a comical look on her face, Julie reiterated,
“No
. I don't believe in that nonsense.”

Jamie shrugged. “Catching flowers has nothing to do with it. Things are happening for you. Your life is about to take a drastic turn.” And with a frown: “You should use caution.”

Julie prissed up real quick. “Yes, thank you. I'm sure you mean well, Jamie, but you sound just like my uncle, wanting me to be circumspect in all I do.” She smoothed her hair back with haughty disdain. “But now is the time for me to embrace life, not retreat from it.”

“Sometimes retreat is a good thing.”

Julie wasn't convinced. “I, ah, I'll just go help Shay put the presents in the car.” She nodded to Jamie. “It was lovely seeing you again.”

He returned her nod with a very empty look that somehow managed to convey smirking tolerance.

Julie dismissed him. “Bruce, Cyn, congratulations.”

Cyn hugged her. “Thank you. For everything.”

Jamie pulled Bruce to the side. “It's not over.”

Bruce wasn't surprised. “I know. He'll come, but we'll be prepared.”

“For the threat, yes,” Jamie said, “but I think it's your wife you need to be prepared for.”

“She is unpredictable.”

Jamie frowned a moment, considered the situation, then shook his head in helpless confusion.

“She loves you very much. It was always clear to me that you'd take care of her.”

“But?”

“I don't know. Sooner or later I'll figure it out.”

Bruce took his hand. “Thank you. We appreciate your concern and your effort. If for any reason you want to talk, about Cyn and what's happening with her, or about yourself, your life here, I'm always available.”

Suddenly wary, Jamie released Bruce's hand and backed up a few steps. “I need to go.” He bumped into Cyn, and an expression of resignation crossed his features.

“Jamie.” Cyn faced him with huge eyes, hesitated, then she launched herself against him and squeezed him tight.

Jamie turned stiff with alarm. He had no idea how to react to Cyn's affection, or how to free himself from her hold, and Bruce couldn't help but smile. The man wasn't used to human contact.

It was just like Cyn to realize that, and to remedy the situation.

Jamie tolerated the embrace for all of five seconds before he caught Cyn's arms, peeled her loose, and set her beside her husband.

It was impossible to tell if his beard-covered cheeks were ruddy with embarrassment, or if he'd just had too much sun. But for once, his fathomless eyes weren't blank.

Jamie harrumphed and gathered his thoughts while appearing ready to flee. “Listen to me.”

Cyn smiled. “We're listening.”

“The threat still exists. Until I tell you otherwise, it's there. Don't be fooled.”

Bruce put his arm around Cyn. “I'm not going to let anyone hurt her.”

“I understand that. And it's good that you're married. But…” Jamie seemed almost pained in his inability to verbalize his worries. “Something's not right.”

“Okay,” Bruce told him gently. “We'll be very careful, and if you have any news for us, please let us know.”

Jamie agreed, glanced at Cyn with wary regard, and bid his farewells. For once, he didn't vanish. He just turned and wandered off, his hands in his pockets, his head down in deep thought.

No one said a word to him, but Bruce noticed that the ladies were tracking him with compassionate gazes. Not only that, but both Bryan and Joe watched him with concern, too.

They cared about Jamie, despite their claims to the contrary. And for the first time, Bruce wondered if, in fact, it wasn't Jamie who suffered the most risk—for always trying to help them all.

 

Cyn stood behind Bruce, watching him stack the gifts they'd received around the bedroom. When he finished that, he removed his suit coat and hung it in the closet, dropped his cufflinks on the dresser, sat to remove his shoes.

And not once did he look at her.

When he stood again to unbutton his snowy white shirt—keeping his back to her—Cyn thought to herself,
Not this time.

Her heart beat too fast and her stomach was fluttering with excitement. “I need help with my dress.”

Bruce went still for heartbeat before shrugging out of his shirt. “Just a moment.”

Cyn moved up behind him, slid her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek to his bare shoulder. His skin was hot and sleek all over. “Let's go to bed.”

Every muscle in his body tensed. “I need a shower. It was warm outside and—”

“Help me undress first, and I'll shower with you.”

She felt his chest and back expand on a deeply drawn breath. Too much cheerfulness colored his tone as he faced her. “All right. The gown is beautiful, and perfect for you, but I can see it'll be tricky to undo.”

Cyn turned. “Not all that tricky at all. It just looks like a row of tiny buttons, but there's a long zipper underneath.”

Bruce hesitated. “I see.” His hands didn't touch her.

“The zipper, Bruce? It won't open itself.”

But it wasn't the zipper he touched. Cyn felt his mouth, warm and damp, pressing to her nape. His tongue came out, tasting her skin, and she quickened. Heated breath brushed the damp spot he'd left behind, and she shivered, leaning into him.

“I have to tell you something, honey.”

Alarmed, Cyn started to pull away, but Bruce caught her rib cage, just below her breasts, and kept her pinned against him. He nuzzled her ear, lightly bit her throat, and said, “I'm not going to last. I already know it.”

Smiling in satisfaction, Cyn reached back and put her hands on his hard thighs. “That's all right. We have all night.”

He shook his head. “You really don't understand, but you will. Eventually.” His tongue dipped into her ear, teased, and Cyn wanted to melt on the spot. “You know what I kept thinking about all day?”

Her heart pounded. “Tell me.”

“Slipping my hands into this bodice and freeing your breasts. At times, I swear I could almost feel your nipples on my palms. It made me nuts, especially with everyone watching me.” His tongue left a damp path from her ear to the top of her shoulder. “I think I'll do that now.”

Lost in the soft murmur of words, in the feel of his mouth teasing her flesh, she was startled when Bruce's hands slid up and over her breasts, to the top of the bodice where his fingertips teased a few moments.

“Bruce…”

He worked his fingers beneath the stiff material. “Shhh. I don't want to rip your dress. Relax back against me.”

Her plans for seducing her husband flew the coop; she relaxed back as instructed.

Hot, rough fingertips touched her nipples, already stiff and aching, and she could feel his smile on her throat. “I love your breasts, Cyn.” With his left hand, he pinched her nipple just enough to make her groan. “You like that.”

She swallowed, then said, “Duh.” But her heart wasn't in the sarcastic response, and Bruce knew it.

Laughing, he eased her forward and worked the back zipper halfway down. It loosened the bodice enough that her breasts were completely free, yet held up by the bunched material beneath them.

Keeping her turned away from him, he whispered, “Perfect,” and went back to flicking, plucking, and rolling her nipples until Cyn thought she might scream.

“That's enough.”

“No.” He held her locked into place against him with one arm snug around her waist. His fingers caught her nipple and tugged.