by Terra Little
Though he hadn’t bothered to look up from his work in what must have been hours, he knew the exact moment that Tressie joined him in the basement. Oddly enough, he could sense her the way a wolf senses its mate. Without turning around to confirm her presence, he said, “Why did you leave?” He thought he knew, but he wanted to hear her say it.
“Because you didn’t call when it mattered and then when you finally did, you were with her.”
He did look up then, catching her eyes and holding them with his own. Even bundled up in his robe the way she was, he could smell the soap on her skin from her shower all the way across the room. Something inside him stirred and he wondered if she would push him away if he pounced again. “I wasn’t sure what to say.”
“I didn’t think you wanted to say anything, especially after I saw the pictures of you and Pam that were plastered all over the internet. They were suggestive enough by themselves. Hearing her voice in the background when you called was...” She shook her head as if to clear it, looking a little lost. “Very hurtful,” she finally said.
“Whatever those pictures suggested to you was incorrect.”
He watched her push her fingers through her tousled hair and blow out a soft breath. “Listen, Nate, I know that you and Pam have a complicated past and, honestly, that’s about all I care to know. You don’t owe me any expl—”
“You came here,” he cut in almost angrily. “You came here and you seduced me. And I let you, because I wanted you just as much as you wanted me. It was just sex.” Her eyes widened in shock and she tried to look away from him, but he wouldn’t let her. “In the beginning,” he clarified slowly. “In the beginning it was just sex, Tressie. In the beginning. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“I—I think so, yes.”
He could see from the wounded expression on her face that she had absolutely no clue what he was saying to her. “I don’t think you do, sugar. This is all new to me, so I’m not quite sure how to sweet-talk my meaning across to you. Forgive me if I don’t put this to you the way one of those characters in a romance novel would, but I want to make sure I’m very clear.”
Setting aside the cleaning rag in his hand, Nate crossed the room toward her deliberately. When they were standing face-to-face, he reached out and lifted her chin with his index finger and searched her eyes. “I’m not in love with Pam. How can I be when I’m in love with you?”
“Nate...I—I don’t know what to say,” Tressie whispered. A smiled trembled around the edges of her lips, fighting a silent war with the tears swimming in her eyes.
“Say you don’t mind that I don’t have a ring for you right this minute,” he suggested, his tone on the brink of pleading. “Say you don’t mind that I haven’t thought that far ahead just yet. Say you want to keep building on what we’ve started here in Mercy as much as I want to.” A tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek slowly. He wiped it away with the pad of his thumb and flashed her a lopsided grin. “Better yet, Tressie, put me out of my misery and say you love me back.”
A strangled cry broke free from her throat as she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She burrowed into his embrace and unleashed a storm of tears. He might’ve had cause to be concerned about all the crying she was doing if she hadn’t been laughing at the same time. “I told you all this was new to me, sugar,” he said after several minutes had passed and she was still sobbing. “I’m going to need you to actually say something.”
She reared back in his arms and gazed into his eyes. “I love you back, Nate Woodberry. There—is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Damn right,” he said, laughing. As quick as lightning, he shifted her in his arms and helped her wrap her legs around his waist. Then he took the basement steps up to the kitchen two at a time.
“What are you doing?” Tressie shrieked.
“I’m taking you back to bed, sugar. I heard you say you love me and now I want you to show me.”
Epilogue
Boom!
The deafening sound drew all eyes to the night sky just in time to see an explosion of bright colors fan out like a mystical umbrella overhead. Tressie blinked and then smiled, knowing that Jasper Holmes was somewhere behind the bandstand at the far end of Truman Field, having the time of his life. This was only the beginning, a dazzling introduction to what was scheduled to be at least an hour-long fireworks display. And from what she’d seen earlier of the stockpile of supplies that Jasper had amassed, it would definitely be a crowd-pleaser. Not wanting to miss a second of it, she dropped to her butt on the blanket that she’d spread out on the grass, then lay flat on her back so she could see nothing but sky.
The bright white sparkles that shot up into the sky every few seconds were almost as brilliant as the diamond solitaire on her finger, she thought giddily. Almost, because nothing in the world could outshine the ring that Nate had presented her with just three weeks ago.
She’d been completely unprepared for his proposal, such as it was. This past year that they had been together had been wonderful, but he hadn’t so much as mentioned marriage and so she hadn’t brought it up, either.
After last year’s fair, they had left Mercy together and, aside from the time that they spent apart while each of them was on assignment, they’d been pretty much inseparable, dividing their time between his Seattle apartment and her New York loft. Their relationship had fallen into an easy rhythm that was both comforting and exciting, and if she had sometimes secretly longed for more, she was careful to pace herself. Nate wasn’t the kind of man who could be cajoled or coaxed into doing anything, and she’d long since discovered that he was a true Southerner—slow as molasses about some things and lightning quick about others. Unfortunately, marriage seemed to fit into the first category.
Or so she’d thought.
Nate was in Dubai right now, finishing up a story and, she hoped, making his way back to her this very minute. He’d been away ever since the day he’d slipped the ring on her finger and then, while she was sleeping, quietly let himself out of his apartment in search of the nearest airport just before dawn. She had awakened to find the dazzling thing on her finger and a handwritten note, telling her that he loved her, lying on the pillow next to her. But not until she had connected with him via webcam, later that evening, did he speak the words to her and, by then, she was a nervous wreck.
Quickly, he’d said. He wanted to make her his wife quickly because neither of them was getting any younger and he wanted kids, two or three of them, at least. Did she want kids?
At that, she’d had to stop and really think about the question. Did she?
She hadn’t really given it much thought until that very moment, hadn’t really thought she would ever meet a man that she loved enough to make her think about having children. But Nate? Oh, yeah, she thought now as she listened to one explosion after another and marveled at the beautiful results overhead. She wanted every baby that she gave birth to to have his gorgeous hazel eyes and dimpled smile, his smooth chocolate-brown skin and his silky black hair.
Nate had smiled when she’d told him exactly that and said, “Quickly then, sugar. We’ll do it quickly.” As far as Tressie was concerned, he couldn’t make her his wife quickly enough.
Apparently, Moira felt the same way, because she had offered the use of her estate for the ceremony and reception. Tressie hadn’t seen the sense in arguing against being married on the south lawn, surrounded by Moira’s legendary flower garden, especially since Moira had pointed out that the spot wasn’t very far from the creek, where an as yet still-unclaimed pair of pink-lace panties had started it all.
Just thinking about that night made Tressie blush to the roots of her copper-streaked hair. By now just about everyone in town had figured out that the panties were hers, and she’d endured a variety of good-natured jokes about them. But th
en again, she had also been welcomed back to Mercy with open arms, so she supposed the trade-off was well worth it. After they were married, she and Nate would continue to divide their time together between New York and Seattle, at least for the next little while, but she couldn’t imagine being married to the man she loved in any other place than the one they both knew as home.
As if to celebrate her thoughts, Jasper sent up into the sky a series of diving, sparkling things that shot off multicolored blasts of light. One after another, they exploded until Tressie was sure she had gone deaf from all the noise and blind from the brilliance of the light they gave off. She was so caught up in the loud and colorful presentation that at first she didn’t hear her cell phone chiming. During a quick lull in the display, the sound finally registered and she dug the device out of her pocket hurriedly. The text message waiting for her stole her breath, made her heart beat at double time and curved her lips into a secret, feminine smile.
On my way to you, sugar, Nate had texted. I can’t wait to make you mine.
It was late Friday night now, almost Saturday. They would be married in less than twenty-four hours.
Tressie couldn’t wait, either.
* * *
The minute his plane touched down in Atlanta, Nate made a beeline for the exit and quickly claimed his bag from the conveyor belt. Rather than feel the slightest hint of trepidation about what he was about to do, he was literally on cloud nine. He’d been away from his woman for nearly a month now. And the closer he got to Mercy, the closer he got to the reality of feeling her soft touch and inhaling her sweet scent, the more he craved her.
He had come to the conclusion months ago that he was definitely, unequivocally and completely in love with Tressie Valentine.
The ring he’d given her had been his mother’s, passed on to her by her mother, his grandmother, and, truthfully, when it had been passed along to him, he had never envisioned the day that he would slip it onto a woman’s finger and make a solemn promise to her. He had thoroughly enjoyed his life as a bachelor and, now that he was thinking about it, he wouldn’t have traded a day of it for anything in the world. Now he knew that it had prepared him for the here and now, and made him the man that he was today.
Was he scared? Hell, yes, he was. Who wouldn’t be? Pledging your life to another person was risky in the best of situations, and God knew he had never been fortunate enough to witness a truly happy marriage firsthand. But he knew what he wanted, what he planned to build with Tressie by his side, what he was willing to work for, and living his life as a bachelor had succeeded in showing him that.
For the first time in maybe his entire life, he was completely and utterly happy. Globetrotting and risking his life had filled a void in him that he hadn’t realized was there until he’d found Tressie and then had to be away from her while he was on assignment. The stark contrast between the two extremes—foraging for information in hostile jungles on the other side of the world versus sharing his days and nights with Tressie—was glaringly clear. Once, he had believed that his work was all he needed in his life, but now he knew better. Tressie didn’t yet know, but he had been laying the groundwork for scaling back on the overseas assignments that he accepted and setting in motion a plan that would allow him to be home with her as much as humanly possible. Not because he believed that marriage dictated that he should be, even though he believed that it did, but because he wanted to be. Work was work and he still loved it, but it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.
As usual, Julia had arranged for transportation to be waiting for him at the curb outside the airport. After tipping the valet, he tossed his bag into the trunk and then slid into the front seat of a sleek Chrysler SUV. It was a little slicker than he usually preferred, he thought as he eyed the spaceship-style console, with all its buttons and knobs and bells and whistles, but it would do. He pressed a button to kick-start the air-conditioning, found an all-news station on the satellite radio and tapped the in-dash computer screen to shut off the voice-activated navigation system. Before driving away from the curb, he pulled out his cell phone, set it up to recharge the waning battery and shot off a text to Tressie.
On my way to you, sugar. I can’t wait to make you mine.
In less than twenty-four hours, she would be. A smile curved his lips as he reminded himself that he owed Pam an as yet unspecified amount of cash. Every time the topic of whether he would ever get married came up, the amount at stake always increased by leaps and bounds. Of course, he’d always been for the con and Pam for the pro, and bets had been made. One day, she’d sworn, a woman was going to come out of nowhere and knock him flat on his ass. He’d always laughed at her, but, as it turned out, the joke was on him. Once or twice over the years, he had entertained the idea that maybe that woman was Pam, but fate and common sense had disabused him of that silly notion years ago. Pam had never really knocked him on his ass, not the way Tressie had, and now that he was thinking about it, he came to the conclusion that Pam had figured that out long before he finally did.
He was idling in the long line of cars waiting to exit the airport’s parking complex when his cell phone vibrated in the passenger seat. He had an incoming text message.
Tomorrow.
The simple, one-word reply from Tressie wrapped a fist around his heart and squeezed.
Yes, tomorrow, he texted back just before he set aside the phone and turned his attention to the drive ahead of him.
* * *
It was a simple ceremony, with just a handful of close friends in attendance, a beautifully tended flower garden as the backdrop, and the minister who had baptized both Nate and Tressie ages ago officiating. Neither of them had wanted anything lavish. Aside from joining hands to light a candle for his mother and for her grandmother, nothing about the day’s events was traditional.
Moira had argued for a customary wedding dress, but Tressie’s heart was set on an ivory linen shift that she’d found among Ma’Dear’s things when she was packing up the house. She had instantly recognized it, having seen it every time her gaze landed on the photo of her mother that was on the mantel in her apartment, and claimed it for her own. The idea to be married in it hadn’t come until after Nate had proposed to her and the reality of not having any real family there with her on her special day had fully set in. This way, she’d told Moira just that morning, a little piece of Geneva Valentine would be there in spirit.
Now, as she made her way down the grand staircase in the main house and paused in the foyer to take one last look at herself in the ornately framed mirror there, she knew that she had made the right decision. The dress fit her perfectly, with its fitted strapless bodice and flowing calf-length skirt. It was as if it had been just waiting for her to stumble upon it and realize what it was there for.
And maybe it had been, Tressie conceded as her gaze fell upon the delicate strand of ivory-colored pearls around her neck. They were Ma’Dear’s, and her grandmother had worn them to church every Sunday as far back as Tressie could remember. Same with the matching pearl studs, she recalled, and delicately touched a finger to one of the posts in her ears. Wearing them today was the next best thing to having Ma’Dear there with her.
“Stop fussing,” a voice said from behind her. “You look great and I should know, because I did your makeup myself.”
Tressie spun around to face a smiling Pamela Mayes. “Thank you again for that. I couldn’t seem to make my hands stop shaking.” She held them up in front up her and looked at them. “They’re still shaking.”
“Believe me, Nate’s are, too, so you’re in good company. Here, I believe this is for you.” Pam produced a single red rose with a flourish and handed it to Tressie. “Do you need anything else before I go outside?”
Tressie returned Pam’s smile and shook her head, no. They weren’t quite friends but she thought that maybe someday they might get there. “No, I think I’m as ready a
s I’ll ever be.”
“All right, then, I’ll go let everyone know that we’re ready to begin.” Reaching for her hand and squeezing it, Pam turned toward the row of French doors leading out to the back veranda. Tressie watched her through the glass as she descended the steps gingerly in four-inch heels and tipped across the manicured lawn to stand beside her husband in the small crowd gathered on the garden’s brick center island.
Seconds later, a lone violinist began playing a winsome, haunting melody, and Tressie alighted from the main house. On some level, she registered the fact that all eyes were on her as she descended the steps, but she only had eyes for Nate. Months and months ago, she had compared him to a warrior, and the comparison still was true today. A soft breeze played with the silky hair lying on his wide shoulders and rustled the loose-fitting ivory linen suit he wore. He should’ve looked romantic and sensitive, but instead, he was somehow even more fierce-looking. She held his eyes and watched him watch her as she approached and joined him underneath a cedarwood arbor, wondering what he was thinking.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long to find out. They joined hands to light candles for their loved ones and then turned to the solemn minister.
“I can’t help thinking,” the minister began, his gravelly voice reaching out and touching the small crowd, demanding that they pay attention, “that something about the Southern skies makes romance a little more exciting and love a little sweeter.”
Nate caught Tressie’s eye and winked.
“Nothing pleases the universe more than when two souls come together as one,” he continued. “And nothing pleases me more than witnessing two souls that I’ve known ever since they were babies come together as one. Before we begin, Nathaniel and Tressie have prepared their own vows.” He motioned to Nate. “Nathaniel?”
