A Timeless Romance Anthology: Summer Wedding Collection

by Melanie Jacobson

  He reached for his cell and stopped short with a laugh.

  Dude, you could text. You want an excuse to talk to her and this is it. Be real. He thought back to the email flirting they’d done that afternoon. He wasn’t nervous; talking to women had never been a big deal. But what if talking to her wasn’t as cool as texting? Or emailing? Or instant messaging? What if they didn’t gel? Part of him wanted to wait until Hawaii to discover that and enjoy the entertainment for a few more days. But part of him kind of just really wanted to talk to her.

  Yeah, okay. He was being stupid.

  Dallen: Hope you’re not busy. You must stop everything and help me with the crazy people.

  Bree: Am wandering through my kitchen while wearing a towel on my head, waiting for something to magically appear in my fridge. Towel is not, in fact, a magic turban. Guess I can put fridge stalking on hold.

  She could tease smiles from him without effort, and he dug it. Screw it. He highlighted her number and pressed send.

  It rang three times before she answered. Good. Not too eager to pick up. No making him wait too long. Not that games mattered. Still, it was good form.

  “Hi.” Her voice was mellow and slightly husky.

  “Hi, yourself. Sorry I have to call under such disastrous circumstances. Also, I air quoted disastrous.”

  “I won’t hold it against you,” she said. He could hear the smile in her voice. “Are we talking an actual Titanic disaster, or a there-are-no-puce-flowers disaster?”

  “Let me backtrack. First, it’s good to talk to you.”

  “You too,” she said, and he liked that she was direct about it instead of deflecting the compliment.

  “Second, this is a potential disaster, but it’s all on Slade’s side because if this doesn’t come together, Addison will never know it didn’t happen. Remember how obsessed she was with finding the bridesmaids a nail polish?”

  “I have nightmares about it.”

  Addison had flipped out trying to find something that not only matched their dresses but that had a name symbolizing love and happiness. Enter Love Blush. Whatever color that was.

  “Slade is at that level.”

  “Interesting,” she said. “I’ve only hung out with him that one weekend when they came out for the engagement announcement. Seems kind of unlike him.”

  “It’s completely unlike him. I’ve been underqualified for this best man gig from the start, but now I’m about to flunk out of Advanced Best Manhood.”

  “Lay it on me,” she said. “Let’s see what we can do.”

  Easy. It was just as easy talking to her as the texts and phone calls had been. He cleared his throat. “Slade wants to do some huge gesture for Addison to match all the effort she’s put into planning the wedding.”

  “Not possible.”

  “Right. Mission: Impossible.”

  “We should call it Mission: Unnecessary. She doesn’t need him to do anything like that.”

  “That’s why he wants to.”

  “It does make it more perfect,” she admitted. “Did you threaten to boycott the ceremony on the grounds that he didn’t think of this sooner?”

  “I should call him back and do that.”

  “Nah. Let’s just dive in. What kind of big gesture are we talking here?”

  Dallen sighed. “I heard the words ‘flash mob.’”

  “Were they followed by the word ‘overdone?’”

  He laughed. “Worse—‌the words ‘viral,’ ‘You Tube,’ and ‘line dancing.’”

  “Yeah, you’re going to need to kill that right now. Because those words are things Addison hates.”

  “I might have made some of that up. What he really wants to do is somehow recreate the night they met. Can you convince her to bring her puce dress to Hawaii without letting on why?”

  “I can handle that. What else?”

  Dallen leaned back and relaxed into the cushion. Having a teammate, especially one who could make him laugh, made everything much more doable. As he explained Slade’s vague outline for a surprise, Bree made a few suggestions, and then the conversation drifted. They covered the weather, books they were reading, and what they liked to do for fun.

  Dallen didn’t realize how much time had passed until Bree startled him with a surprised squeak. “It’s almost midnight there! You’re so nice to stay on the phone and act wide awake, but I should let you go.”

  Was that a hint to let this conversation drop? “I’m fine.” He paused for a tiny second. “You’re better than coffee for keeping me awake, and that’s a good thing.” He winced at how stupid that sounded. He’d never been a guy to use lines with girls, but he was usually smoother than this.

  “It’s not that I want to get off the phone,” Bree said. “It’s more that I think my hair may dry into a turban shape, and it’s kind of curly, so I gotta go tame it before it rebels.”

  He pictured the soft, medium-brown hair he’d seen falling around the pretty face laughing from Addison’s phone. She had a girl-next-door quality about her that appealed to him, something much more uncomplicated than the beautiful but high-maintenance women he’d dated lately. There was a kind of... honesty in her look, maybe. Like what you see is what you get.

  “I hate when I get turban hair,” he said. “So I’ll let you go. Thanks for talking me through this. If you’re cool with helping, I think we can make it work.”

  “I hope we can make this work,” she echoed.

  And he wondered as they hung up if she meant making more than Slade’s surprise work. Because he was beginning to hope so too. He had to wait four more days to find out.

  Chapter Six

  Bree threw open the hotel room balcony doors and stepped into the warm wash of Hawaiian sunshine. She’d left a gray June inversion for this perfect, smog-free paradise. Even the Pacific sparkling in the near distance looked bluer and cleaner and warmer here.

  The scent of hibiscus flowers tickled her nose; she plucked a purple one from the branch near her and tucked it behind her ear, laughing at herself. It had taken her all of one night’s sleep in Hawaii to go native.

  “I love it!” Addison said behind her.

  Bree turned to smile at her best friend. “Thanks. Seemed like the right thing to do.”

  Addison swept her into a hug. “Thank you for being here. And for putting up with my crazy. And for being you and helping put together this wild dream.”

  Bree returned her squeeze. “I’m glad to do it, and I’m so happy for you.” She leaned back and framed Addison’s face with her hands. “You deserve it all, and it’s worth being nuts to see you happy.”

  Addison grinned and whirled toward the balcony doors. “The nuttiness is just starting. I’m getting married in two days—‌two days!” she hollered at the ceiling as she collapsed backward onto her bed in giggles. “I love Slade Banks, and two days is too long!”

  Bree took a flying leap, landed on the bed next to her, and swatted her with a pillow. “He’s the most brilliant, handsome, talented man in the universe. He still doesn’t deserve you, but mazel tov and all that. Now focus: what’s on tap today?”

  Addison shot up. “You mean you don’t have it all committed to memory? I expected to see it tattooed somewhere on your skinny self.”

  Bree brushed a dark strand of hair out of her face and smiled. “Thanks for noticing.” She’d landed late last night and let herself into their shared suite as quietly as possible so as not to wake Addison.

  “How could I not notice?” Addison said, scanning her from head to toe again. “Stand and do a twirl for me.”

  Bree obeyed, sending the skirt of her white sundress floating out and ending it with a curtsy and a laugh. “You don’t think I went too dark with my hair?”

  “Definitely not,” Addison said, eyeing the rich brown. “I think those highlights are genius, and the contrast with your eyes makes them pop. I’d kill for your green.”

  Bree laughed again. “Your hazel is pretty. And you got the best of eve
rything else, so maybe it’s fair I got interesting eyes.”

  “And curves! And fab hair! Never get skinnier than you are right now. You look awesome.”

  “I’m still ten pounds over what I was in college.”

  “You were too skinny in college. All pointy cheekbones and sharp elbows. You look great.” Concern dimmed her smile. “Do you really not see that?”

  Bree smoothed her soft pink sarong over her round hips and lost the fight against a huge grin. “Actually, I do.”

  “Work it, girl,” Addison said. “Speaking of work, first up after breakfast is working on our tan. Pull out your cutest bikini, and let’s take it on a tour of the pool. I’ll get the other girls.”

  “I thought you’d be dying for the beach after Chicago rain.”

  Addison pointed at her toenails painted in Love Blush coral. “No way. I’m not jacking these tootsies up by dinging their paint job until I walk out on that sand for the ceremony.” She narrowed her eyes at Bree. “You’d better not either.”

  Bree held up her hands. “No, no. The pool sounds great. I’ll change.”

  Addison nodded her satisfaction and disappeared to rouse the girls in the suite’s other bedroom. Shayla and Jen were already here, and Michelle and Whitney would be arriving later today. Addison’s wedding madness hadn’t extended so far as having an enormous bridal party.

  Bree opened her suitcase and pulled out her new swimsuit, the fabled itty bitty, teenie weenie, yellow polka-dot bikini. Well, not itty bitty. She wasn’t that bold. But it definitely highlighted more of her assets than she’d put on display in a very long time. When she’d spotted it on the rack and the lyrics ran through her mind, she hadn’t been able to resist. Looking at it now, she sort of wished she had. It was tame as bikinis went—‌it covered all of her bits admirably—‌but it seemed small now that it was time to greet any poolside gawkers. She’d barely gotten comfortable running near her apartment in a tank top and shorts.

  She held the swimsuit at arm’s length and studied it with a critical eye. Unfortunately, she’d been so stunned by how not awful she looked in it that she’d bought three more in other prints to celebrate.

  No, not unfortunately. Time to get that out of her head. She’d looked good in this polka-dot confection. She’d look even better in it today if she wore it with a little confidence, or so said the article she’d read in a fitness magazine about how confidence was the best accessory. She slipped the suit on and turned to face the mirror.

  “Sexy!” Addison said, walking back in.

  Bree grinned. “Not bad, right?”

  “Freaking awesome is more like it.” Addison’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Dallen is a goner the second he sees you. Just wear that everywhere. He’ll fall at your feet.”

  With a snort, Bree scooped up her sarong and slipped it on. “I’m eating yogurt then hitting the pool,” she called into the suite’s small lounge area to the other girls. “Last one down is a dirty, stinky bridesmaid.”

  Giggling and the soft shuffle of bare feet on carpet met her announcement as Shayla and Jen scrambled back into their room to change. Bree was scraping up the last bit of yogurt with her spoon when they reemerged in cover ups, beach bags on their shoulders.

  “Ready, Addison?” Bree asked, sticking her head around their door.

  “Ready.” Addison looked like the poster child for glowing brides to be, her blonde hair hanging around tanned shoulders, a smile in her eyes. “Let’s go. We’ve got three hours to relax, and then it’s time to get cracking.”

  Bree rolled her eyes. “When you put it that way, how could we possibly not relax?” She grabbed Addison’s wrist and hauled her out. “Better get a move on, bridesmaids. We have to relax and stay on schedule!”

  They joked at Addison’s expense all the way to the pool. Within minutes of the girls claiming a row of lounge chairs, Bree felt Hawaii creeping into her bones, working its magic. The scent of flowers and suntan lotion drifted on the light breeze and lulled her into a delicious daydream where a cabana boy who looked an awful lot like Dallen brought her a cool drink and offered to rub her back. At least part of the daydream proved irresistible—‌chilled fruit juice and sliced pineapple sounded like the only way to improve on heaven. She stood and made her way to the pool’s bar, not realizing until she was halfway there that she’d forgotten her sarong. Huh. More progress.

  A guy wearing board shorts and an appreciative grin checked her out. He elbowed his friend, who glanced at her and nodded agreement. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she was glad she’d worked on her tan enough in LA that the blush wouldn’t show, especially when there would have been so much of it to see. She’d worked hard to get healthy, and now she looked good. She knew it whether guys checked her out or not.

  Not that it hurt to have it confirmed.

  Her smile only grew bigger when she dropped back into her chair to see a text from Dallen.

  So. Breakfast in the a.m. I’m going to sit across from you and text so it feels normal.

  Addison caught Bree’s smile. “Let me guess. Dallen?”

  “No, baseball scores. My Angels are looking good.”

  “Liar,” Addison said, smiling back. “Let’s make it a double wedding.”

  Bree balled up her sarong and threw it at her. Addison batted it away with a laugh. “Fine. No double wedding. But you guys are totally going to hit it off.”

  Bree typed a response. If it’ll make you feel better. But conversation seems to come easy, yeah? Looking forward to it.

  So much. The thought of meeting Dallen sent a warm wave rolling through her, a heat that made her scalp tingle, mixed with the giddy anticipation she used to have as a kid on the night before her birthday. She had the sense of being on the verge of something special. She’d kept far back from the edge, but their phone call and their ease with each other, added to the hundreds of times he’d made her laugh in the last two months, had yanked her to the brink. She was ready to take the next step and discover would happen.

  Chapter Seven

  . . . the conversation seems to come easy, yeah? Looking forward to it.

  Dallen smiled at the message. That’s what he liked about Bree—‌her straightforwardness. Looking forward to it. He liked how uncomplicated it was to talk to her, yet how she constantly forced him to bring his A game to keep up with her lightning-quick wit. Her jokes ranged from baseball digs against his beloved Cubs to comparing wedding duties to Middle Eastern politics. The places her mind went fascinated him. Everything about her fascinated him. If he could have figured out a non-creepy way to ask Addison to send him the picture of Bree, he would have spent ridiculous amounts of time studying it, trying to figure out what could make someone smile with such pure happiness.

  He set his phone on the hotel nightstand. He hadn’t been able to wait for Hawaii, as he spent a useless day of work distracted by packing and the wedding. And by Bree, really. So he’d cleared it with his boss and come in a day early, texting Bree before takeoff and landing in time to steal a nap and re-humanize before he’d drop in on dinner to surprise Slade. And Bree. The biggest surprise of all was how much he was looking forward to that.

  He lay back and stared at the lazy circles the ceiling fan made, drifting to sleep on images of warm sand, sunshine, and Bree, wondering what her eyes looked like behind the sunglasses in her picture. Big and brown, he bet. Damn, she was cute...

  The sound of a happy shout through the open window woke him. He struggled upright, squinting at the hotel clock radio, wondering how much time had passed. Just after five. Good. Plenty of time to get ready for dinner. He sent a quick text to Slade.

  Arrived early. How’s dinner looking?

  His phone lit up immediately with a reply. Stoked. Dinner is looking like a pig in palm leaves. Worth the flight just for that. Reservation at 7. Find me in #429 when you’re ready to grub.

  Two hours later, Dallen tapped on Slade’s door, now showered, refreshed, and curious about how the night would go. Slade pu
lled the door open and gave him a back-thumping hug. “Glad you’re here.”

  “Thought I’d better make sure I didn’t need to hold you together so Addison had something to marry on Saturday.”

  Slade grinned. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I have no fear, man. I can’t wait for Saturday.”

  “Lucky guy,” Dallen said. “You didn’t tell her I’m here yet, did you?”

  “No. She’d spill it to Bree. They’re expecting me and Deacon down there about now. The other guys get in tomorrow. Ready to do this?”

  Dallen savored the rush of adrenaline in his veins. Nothing like the thrill of the hunt. “Let’s get some dinner.”

  “And hot Hawaiian action, friendly bridesmaid style.”

  Dallen punched his arm. “Shut up.”

  Slade grinned and led the way to the dining room. The entire west side of the tiki-themed room tapered into the sand, where guys in the hotel’s standard red aloha shirts tended a pit in the ground. Fragrant steam rose and drifted toward Dallen on the breeze. “You weren’t kidding about the pig.”

  “I never joke about food,” he said as his stomach growled, making Dallen laugh.

  Their friend Deacon stood and waved them over, and Dallen gave Slade a sliver of attention as he recounted his wipeouts while learning to surf that afternoon. He focused the rest of his attention in a sweep of the dining room, looking for a head of wavy, light-brown hair. A few women caught his eye and smiled. On any other day, he might have returned them. A brunette seated by herself caught his eye and gave him a small smile, but she was more like the high-maintenance beauties in Chicago. He kept looking.

  When the hostess seated them, he gave up and asked Slade, despite the teasing he knew it would earn him. “Where’s Addison?”

  “By Addison, do you mean Bree?”

  Dallen shrugged, refusing to give Slade more to work with.

  He grinned. “Addison’s got a tickle in her throat, so she’s resting and calling in every favor the universe has ever owed her to make sure she isn’t getting sick. The other girls are supposed to be around here. I’ll look for them.”