“She will be when she sees you.” Devon grinned, then winked at Rick before he turned and went back to his duties as the single groomsman.
Rick sat down beside Claire, who smiled at him. “It’s so good to see you again. Jordan wasn’t sure you’d come, but I told her that I knew you’d be here.”
Before he could respond, either by commenting or questioning, the harpist in the corner began playing. A robed minister appeared in front of the altar set up by the fireplace; then Wallace McGee and a young man who looked so much like him that he had to be his son took their places on the left, directly in front of the altar. As the music changed, heads turned and the guests watched while Tammy Harris, in a knee-length pink satin dress and a single strand of pearls, walked down the aisle and took her place on the right. She held a small bouquet of pink roses. Devon followed Tammy and when he reached the altar, he walked over and stood by Wallace and his son.
And then, there she was.
Jordan entered, wearing an identical dress and pearls to those Tammy wore. Her ash-blonde hair was piled atop her head and wispy curls framed her face. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Twenty minutes later, after a traditional wedding ceremony, the guests were asked to join the new Mr. and Mrs. Wallace McGee in the dining room for refreshments. Rick waited in the parlor, hoping Jordan would make her way over to him, but she didn’t, so he joined the others in the dining room.
He caught a glimpse of her talking to and laughing with Claire and Ryan. Suddenly she glanced his way. Their gazes locked instantly. She smiled at him and waved. He smiled back at her.
Just as he made his way across the room, he noticed Roselynne talking to Jordan and then the two of them left the room.
Devon clamped his hand down on Rick’s shoulder. “She’s going upstairs to help Roselynne change into her going away suit. She and Wallace are flying from Atlanta tonight for a two-week honeymoon in Hawaii, so they’ve got to get on the road right away.”
Fifteen minutes later, Rick joined the others at the foot of the stairs in the foyer. How different things were today than they’d been nearly a year ago when he’d stood right here and shook hands with Daniel Price’s widow.
“All you single ladies line up.” Roselynne giggled as she waited for the four single ladies—Tammy, Rene, Kendra, and Jordan—to separate from the others.
Roselynne turned, glanced over her shoulder and tossed the bouquet. Tammy squealed with delight when she caught it.
Rick followed the crowd onto the veranda and, like everyone else, he threw birdseed at the couple as they hurried down the front steps and got into Wallace’s vintage Jaguar.
Suddenly he sensed Jordan. He smelled her delicate perfume. Felt her heat. She came up to him and slipped her arm through his.
“I’m so glad you came to the wedding.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“Are you staying overnight or are you heading home?” she asked.
“I’m heading back to Knoxville.”
“Good. Would you mind giving me a ride to Chattanooga? I drove down with Devon, but he and Rene are going to take Tammy, Kendra and Wes on a vacation to Disney World while Roselynne is on her honeymoon. They’re going to stay here overnight and head out first thing in the morning.”
“Do you like living in Chattanooga?” he asked.
“Yes, I like it very much. I have my own place. One bedroom, one bath. It’s cozy. Kind of like my study here at Price Manor.”
“You’re looking well.” He laughed. “Damn, what am I saying? You look great. You look beautiful.”
She smiled. “Thank you. You look beautiful, too.” She laughed.
“God, honey, it’s so good to see you.”
Tears misted her eyes. “Rick Carson, if you don’t kiss me, I’m going to—”
He yanked her into his arms, lowered his head and took her mouth in a hot, hungry kiss. When they finally came up for air, she grabbed both of his hands.
“That’s all I needed to know,” she said. “You still love me, don’t you?”
“Damn straight, I do.”
“And I love you.”
He slipped his arm around her. “So, am I moving to Chattanooga or are you moving to Knoxville after we get married?”
“Married?”
“You are going to marry me, aren’t you? And if you need a long engagement—”
“I don’t. I’ve wasted too much of my life. I don’t want to waste another minute,” she told him. “As for where we’ll live—I don’t care, as long as we’re together for the rest of our lives.”
About the Author
An avid reader since childhood, Beverly Barton wrote her first book at the age of nine. Since then, she has gone on to write well over sixty novels and is a New York Times bestselling author. Beverly lives in Alabama.
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By the Same Author:
Close Enough to Kill
Amnesia
The Dying Game
The Murder Game
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
AVON
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First published in the U.S.A by Kensington Publishing Corp. New York, NY, 2008
Copyright © Beverly Barton 2008
Beverly Barton asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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EPub Edition © 2008 ISBN: 9780007328925
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