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Bespoken: An Opposites-Attract Standalone Romance (Carmel Cove Book 2)

Page 35

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp


  She was distracted as her phone buzzed. “Oh, looks like everyone is in place and waiting for us.”

  “What? Are we that late?” My pulse picked up.

  “It’s fine. You and I figured out the whole ceremony procession, so it’s not a big deal. You know I didn’t even want to do one of these things anyway,” she assured me, and I couldn’t argue.

  She hadn’t wanted to do anything big or fancy for the rehearsal. In fact, up until maybe two weeks ago, I was working under the assumption there would be no rehearsal. But then, almost out of the blue, Laurel told me there was definitely going to be a rehearsal with a dinner afterward. I figured she’d talked to Eli and he must’ve changed her mind.

  I pulled down the drive to the Lookout, passing Ash and Taylor’s house on the way.

  Everyone was definitely here.

  The parking lot in front of the cliffside restaurant was full of cars I recognized. The setting sun bathed them in a magnificent red-orange glow.

  Eli. Miles. Ace. Dex. Eve. Gwen. Gwen?

  She wasn’t part of the wedding party—

  “Let’s go!” Laurel exclaimed, hopping out as soon as the truck was in park.

  “Laurel!” I called after her, leaving the keys and the rest of my stuff on the seat for now. “I have to go first!”

  Adjusting all the edges of my dress, I sped after her. At least, she’d paused at the front door to wait for me.

  “Oh, wait, let me make sure you’re all good here,” she said, reaching for me.

  Her hands made quick work of smoothing my neckline before they went for my hair. It was half pulled back from my face but still left to hang long down my back. I hardly ever wore my hair completely up anymore.

  “Don’t worry about me!” I laughed and brushed her hands away. “You’re the bride!”

  Her hand returned. “And I need to make sure my maid of honor doesn’t look like I put her through hell to get me here.”

  I laughed and let her do whatever she felt she needed.

  “Perfect.” She beamed.

  “Hey, why is Gwen’s car here?”

  I half-turned to point out the Mini Cooper in the lot and, as soon as I did, Laurel grabbed my wrist and tugged me through the restaurant toward the back door.

  The ceremony tomorrow was taking place outside behind the restaurant, along the cliffs. It was going to be exquisite and intimate and Taylor was going to hang so many twinkle lights around the back of the property she’d said it would look like a fairy’s land.

  “Laurel! Slow down!” I told her, my feet forced to keep up with her gait. “We’re not that late!”

  We reached the back door, and I saw some of the small group of people standing outside.

  Wow, they really had started without us here.

  Strange.

  “Take this.” She handed me a small, placeholder bouquet of daylilies, tied with a simple blue string.

  “Are you okay?”

  The answer I received was another strangling hug, followed by a thickly murmured, “I’m so happy.”

  I swore she’d said for you at the end, but it was so soft I had to have been imagining it.

  “Laurel, I—”

  “Time to go.” She pulled opened the door and pushed me through it.

  And I was instantly grateful for the years of walking on heels over every terrain because that balance prevented me from stumbling out onto the deck.

  I wanted to whip around and ask her what the heck was going on, but I held back, the small crowd on the lawn in front of the deck, completely focused on me.

  I found Mick’s eyes first.

  I always found his eyes first.

  And my smile grew impossibly wide.

  Adjusting my hold on the flowers, I walked forward with measured steps across the wood of the back patio and down the few small steps onto the grass.

  The trees to my right were covered with twinkle lights and tea candles hanging from mason jars suspended from the branches.

  I caught Gwen and Josie standing off to the side, both beaming, and Gwen with her phone raised for photos.

  That must be why Laurel asked her to come. To take some pictures.

  The aisle was outlined by similar candles and white rose petals as it led to the twisted vine arch and the people standing on either side.

  As I approached the bridal party, Eve and Taylor’s faces lit up with excitement.

  Goodness. I couldn’t imagine what they’d look like once Laurel walked out.

  On the other, I saw Ash on the end, then Miles, both watching me with strange grins. And then Mick. He stood next to Eli—so close, he looked like a bodyguard rather than a groomsman. From his expression, I knew the world around him had ceased to exist except for me.

  Love burst in my chest, catching my breath and swelling my heart.

  One day, this would be us.

  My eyes began to water and, even though I continued to walk forward, they never left him.

  My gorgeous Goliath.

  I was a few steps from the end—moments from when I’d turn to the left, take my place next to Eve, and wait for Laurel to walk down and meet us—when Eli shifted, his movement stealing my attention from Mick.

  My brow furrowed as he stepped to the side—the other side—of Mick. Lips parting, my head tipped and I was about to ask Mick what was going on when his hands came out from behind his back.

  “Mick…”

  He moved directly in front of me as I reached the end of the aisle.

  And then he dropped down onto one knee.

  Oh. My. God.

  Now, my knees shook—my whole body shook.

  My head whipped side to side, realizing everyone knew—they were all in on this.

  This wasn’t a rehearsal.

  This was a proposal.

  I cupped a hand over my mouth, Mick letting out a warm chuckle as he gently took the bouquet from my weakening grasp and set it on the ground next to him.

  Claiming my free left hand for himself, he brought it to his lips, the soothing kiss he placed on the back, grounding the unsteady disintegration of my senses.

  “Mick,” I breathed his name, nothing short of pure blissful anticipation sustaining my heart.

  “Darlin’,” he began, clearing his throat and the emotion clogged there. “I’m no good with speeches, only simple truths.” His thumb rubbed over my knuckles. “And the simple truth is, I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you. Your goodness. Your strength. Your heart. Your voice. They all amaze me each and every day.”

  “Mick.” I choked, love making my chest burn and want to burst at the same time.

  He chuckled thickly, his dimple making a quick appearance before he continued, “I’ve been told a few times that I’m too much of a gentleman. And I figured a gentleman wouldn’t disrupt his best friend’s rehearsal and steal the spotlight. A gentleman would be content walkin’ his girlfriend down the aisle tomorrow and watchin’ our friends get married. But I’m tired of bein’ a gentleman.”

  A small noise somewhere between a cry and a laugh escaped and then was choked to silence when he raised his hand, releasing mine so he could grip the top of the small velvet box.

  I remained speechless as he went on, his drawl rumbling even deeper with emotion, “I want to be the good man who takes the opportunity of all our family and friends bein’ gathered, so they can be a part of this. I want to be the good man who refuses to walk down any aisle next to the woman of his dreams without the promise of forever between them. I want to be the good man who doesn’t give a damn about anything except makin’ the woman I love mine for the rest of our lives.”

  His face blurred through the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. He was everything. Everything I wanted. Everything I needed.

  “I love you,” I whispered thickly.

  He was everything I loved.

  “I want to be your good man, Jules.” My eyes cleared and turned to saucers when he flipped the ring box open, a beautiful oval sapphi
re ring, the colorful gem surrounded by diamonds, nestled in the cushions. “And it would be the greatest honor, darlin’, if you would make me the happiest good man in the whole damn world and promise me forever?”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed, tipping forward and crushing my arms around his neck as I sobbed happy tears.

  Crush was a strong word.

  Mick stood, lifting me and clasping me to him with the strength of one arm as I shook against him.

  “I love you, Mick.”

  “I love you, too, darlin’.”

  Distantly, the cheers and claps from our group of friends filtered into the beautiful moment.

  Setting me down, he cocooned me in his chest until I wiped my face and felt steady enough to face everyone.

  “May I?” His chest rumbled and the ring appeared in front of me—still in the box because I’d cared more about saying yes than having it on my finger.

  “Yes,” I repeated, the word taking on such an incredible power in this moment.

  His fingers took care, plucking the ring from the box and reaching for my left hand once more.

  I’d worn countless pieces of jewelry over the years. Massive, gaudy pieces worth a king’s ransom.

  But this ring, its worth was immeasurable. And, instead of a being a weight on me like the others, it rested on my finger as light and as lasting as the promise it stood for. And I never wanted to take it off.

  “I’m so happy for you,” Laurel bawled, the first in line to pull me into her arms and hold me tight.

  “You knew all along,” I accused with complete happiness at the fact.

  “Of course.” She let out a watery laugh. “I wasn’t going to have any of this until Mick wanted to propose. Then it became the perfect cover.”

  I laughed and nodded. It definitely had.

  “Thank you.”

  Time passed like a cloud of happiness as we hugged and accepted everyone’s congratulations. An extra special moment was when I realized Gwen had caught the whole thing on video.

  When everyone finally began to head inside, Ash having dinner ready and waiting, I turned back to Mick and slid into his waiting arms. I wanted just a few moments alone with him as the sun finally set.

  I looked down at my hand, admiring the ring with only him for the first time.

  “It’s breathtaking, Mick.” I looked up to him.

  “Told you, darlin’,” he drawled softly. “Breathtakin’ takes a whole new meanin’ once a person meets you.” Bending down, he pressed the softest, most promising kiss to my lips—one that made me both want to linger in it but also rush through dinner so we could get home… and be alone.

  “Love you, Jules.”

  “I love you, too.” I settled against his chest, wondering if it was possible to feel as happy as I did, knowing what I’d gone through to get here.

  But the beginning wasn’t the important part. It was everything after that—after I started where I was that defined me. That made me stronger. That brought me here—to the edge of the ocean with the man I loved and who loved me.

  And that was really the key to it all—to be loved. All the wealth and power and status of the world, it never stood a chance. Because in the end…

  Love wins.

  Keep reading…

  Did you love Mick and Jules’ story? Then you don’t want to miss Miles and Eve’s enemies-to-lovers, unrequited romance in BESOTTED, the third book in my Carmel Cove series!

  You can get your copy of BESOTTED here.

  Keep reading to check out the prologue of Besotted!

  And be sure you’ve checked out Laurel and Eli’s story, BEHOLDEN, the first book in the series. If you’ve already devoured that, there’s also Ash and Taylor’s book, REDEMPTION! This emotional, surprise pregnancy romance is set in Carmel, but takes place before the events of the Carmel Cove series. It can be read as a complete standalone.

  Want to be the first to know about Carmel Cove updates and book news? Sign up for my mailing list!

  Eve

  “Here, stand front and center,” I instructed Jules with a giggle, placing her directly in line behind her cousin, Laurel, who stood a few feet in front of us with her back turned, her white lace train fanning out behind her, waiting for the signal to toss the bouquet.

  “You’re going to catch this,” I added with a grin and a wink. “You’re next.”

  The gorgeous brunette who I’d been working side-by-side with at the local coffee shop in town, Roasters, threw her head back and laughed before informing me, “Mick proposed yesterday. I think that means I’m out of the running for the bouquet.”

  “The bouquet just confirms it,” I teased, and took my place by her side.

  We’d all been there yesterday. Laurel and Eli’s rehearsal had been a cover-up for Mick’s proposal—and it was one of the most romantic things I’d ever seen.

  We’d all watched Jules, Laurel’s maid of honor, walk down the candle-lit aisle at sunset. At the last moment, Mick had switched places with the groom and dropped down onto one knee. So today, she’d walked down the aisle as his fiancée instead of just his girlfriend.

  And, even though I couldn’t be happier for my friend, I wasn’t going to let her out of this bouquet toss.

  “I think you’d be eager to get rid of any competition for the flowers,” she returned, arching her brow.

  I sighed. The fact that I was a hopeless romantic was as obvious as a coffee stain on a white wedding dress.

  “I don’t want to rush my Prince Charming,” I told her, jokingly. “He seems to be taking his grand old time to get here, I’d hate to interrupt what I’m sure are copious grand romantic gestures he’s planning for when he enters my life.” I sighed. “Either that, or he got washed away in a mudslide.”

  We both laughed, and any further conversation was drowned out by the DJ’s voice booming through the space, gearing everyone up for the toss.

  While the DJ spoke, my attention slid to the sides of the dance floor that had been cleared at the far end of Larry’s Lookout, a local restaurant owned by good friends of ours, Ash and Taylor. Normally, the Lookout was an alcohol-free establishment in honor of Laurel’s grandfather, Larry, but tonight, they’d made an exception for her reception. It was probably the one and only time there would be an event like this held here. Because of Larry and how he’d helped the owners, they couldn’t—wouldn’t—say no to Laurel.

  Happy faces lined the large windows that overlooked the cliffs of Big Sur, the Pacific Ocean, and the setting sun that glimmered red and orange along the horizon.

  As I perused the crowd, my gaze stopped on Mick Madison whose eyes were locked possessively and lovingly on Jules. It wasn’t hard to be stopped by the sight of him, the man was huge; Laurel didn’t call him the Friendly Giant for nothing.

  But he wasn’t really what snagged my attention.

  Instead, it was the almost-identical man next to him—the man I’d walked down the aisle with earlier.

  Miles Madison.

  Not quite as large, but a thousand times more devastating stood Mick’s twin. Dressed in the same navy suit that all the groomsmen wore, it was striking how different he could look from his brother—and how much his presence affected me.

  They were both big Texas boys, and the fact they worked their own construction business made their muscles that much more well-earned. Thick and perpetually tanned, they’d moved to Carmel over a year ago like two Southern gods looking to expand their mortal reach.

  Mick’s suit looked like it had been wrapped around his bulk. But Miles? His suit hadn’t been wrapped. It had been cut along the hard and harsh planes of his body, carved like steel armor to hide the chainmail underneath.

  Armor to protect him from what, I had no idea. Maybe from himself.

  Compared to his brother’s clean-shaven face and neatly trimmed dirty blonde hair, Miles’ locks looked permanently like the dark color of wet sand, with a few light streaks from working out in the sun. He kept his hair longer—long enoug
h that it was pulled back and neatly tied behind his head for tonight. He looked like the Southern, sun-kissed version of Jason Momoa but with fewer tattoos. Instead, Miles seemed to carry scars, invisible on his skin but unmistakable in his demeanor.

  Everyone knew the Madison twins—two sides of the same coin. Mick was the chivalrous gentleman, and Miles the troublemaking recluse.

  Reserved. Reticent. He was never an outright ass—at least not to me or any other woman. (I wouldn’t speak for how the boys treated each other.) But he could be quiet to the point of coldness. Short to the edge of snide. And sometimes, careless, mostly with himself, to the point of callousness.

  Still, the swarm of butterflies that moved into my stomach the day he came to town, had yet to leave. In fact, they had yet to awake to any prodding except Miles Madison’s presence.

  As though feeling my stare, Miles’ gaze whipped and locked on mine, causing my breath to catch and those clumsy butterflies to flip and land with an oomph. And, just as quickly as it hit me, those tumultuous eyes were gone.

  I shifted my weight to my other hip.

  Off and on, I’d caught glimpses of him all night. His face fading from happiness to grim as soon as he wasn’t paying attention to it.

  I wondered if he ever softened. I wondered what it would taste like to lick along the tight seam of his lips, wondered what it would taste like if they just relaxed for a moment—for a kiss.

  Heat pooled between my legs—a familiar circumstance when I thought about the gorgeous but guarded man for too long.

  And one that happened more frequently than it should.

  “One… two… THREE!” I jumped, snapping back to my current situation just in time to see Laurel’s bouquet of lilacs and white roses sail smoothly through the air and head straight for me.

  Oh no.

  I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut. My arms instinctively reached in front of me to protect my face and returned with the flowers secured in their grip.

  Oh mercy.

  The scent of the fresh flowers was almost as suffocating as the presumption that came along with them. Sputtering out the petals that worked their way inside my lips, I gulped and peeled my eyes open.

 

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