A Timeless Romance Anthology: Summer Wedding Collection

by Melanie Jacobson

  Adam’s mind whirled. How to move from here? They were both single. And he was no longer tied to Seattle. As long as he had an internet connection, he could handle his freelance clients from anywhere. But he couldn’t just jump into all of that randomly, throwing himself into her life. Maybe she didn’t want marriage anymore. She’d made a great life for herself in New York, a life he had no part of.

  The silence between them stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable; he stroked the back of her hand. It felt familiar and warm. Natalie breathed out, relaxing around Adam for the first time since her arrival.

  As she reached for her drink Adam knew he had to blurt out what he wanted to say or regret never saying it. “We could do it, you know. Here. Tonight.”

  She sputtered on her drink and coughed as she set the glass down. “You aren’t serious,” she said, pulling her hand back so she could grab a napkin and cough into it.

  But he was serious. He had no way of answering her question without looking like a fool.

  She lowered the napkin. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

  He lifted one shoulder in what he hoped was a casual a shrug. “We’re in Vegas. Why not?” Stupid, stupid. You’re sounding like marriage is nothing but a tourist activity.

  “Because we’re adults,” Nat said. “With lives and responsibilities. Because that would be insane.” She picked up the napkin and began worrying it into shreds. Why was she suddenly nervous again? “What would we do? Get married, say good-bye, and go home?”

  Adam couldn’t answer; it did sound stupid. But marrying her tonight would give him a chance to fully woo her later. He could reignite the old spark. If her pink cheeks were any indication, she still cared. At least a little.

  “We both have lives to go back to, right?” she said under her breath.

  He leaned in and put his arm around her waist, gently pulling her near. She didn’t resist. “Would it be so awful?” he whispered into her ear.

  He stayed there, smelling her hair and wanting to move just enough to kiss her. She closed her eyes. What was she thinking? Feeling? Was it her flute holding her back?

  The thing is portable! He wanted to shout it, but he knew it wasn’t just her flute. It was her life with the symphony.

  Her eyes sketched over to his beer glass—‌he was on his third refill—‌as if wondering whether his words were ones of a drunk man.

  When she said nothing, he pressed his lips to her jawbone, just under her ear, something that used to, in her words, make her “toes curl.”

  “What do you say?” he whispered.

  “We hardly know each other anymore.” Natalie argued, but her voice was breathless.

  He stroked her hair and pulled away a few inches. “You don’t seem to have changed that much, and neither have I.” When Nat began fiddling with the napkin again, he released her. “We’ve both grown up, but at the core, you’re still the old Nat, and I’m the same old Adam.” He licked his lips with disappointment and took a pull on his beer. “But I suppose it would be a crazy, stupid thing to do.” With his thumb, he wiped some condensation from his mug.

  He couldn’t help but look over and gaze into her eyes with all the hopes and fears and love he still felt—‌and hoped she sense it and felt the same love in return. “It could be crazy. But it could also be pretty great.” She chewed her bottom lip as if she was seriously considering his idea. He took both of her hands in his and gave her one last thing to calm her worries. “We wouldn’t have to tell anyone if you wanted to give it a trial run.”

  Natalie looked at their clasped hands then stared back into his eyes as if warring emotions clashed in her chest. Did she feel the same old emotions he did? She leaned closer, her gaze dropping to his lips. His heart hiccupped in its rhythm. Was she about to kiss him? When she didn’t pull back, he drew nearer, until their lips almost touched. He hesitated, wanting to be sure she wanted this. Nat closed the distance, pressing her lips hard against his. He cupped her head in his hands and poured seven years of longing into his kiss. As it intensified, his hands slipped around her waist, and hers wrapped around his neck as her mouth sought his with an emotion he hadn’t dared hoped to sense in her.

  The noise and buzz in the bar faded into the background as fireworks erupted in his veins. Kissing Nat was familiar, yet strange—‌and better than his fantasies. She pulled back before he was ready to end it.

  Her eyes shot over to his mug and back again. Yes, he’d drunk almost three beers. He wanted to say that no, he wasn’t drunk, that he’d wanted this for years. Her hand came to her lips as if the kiss still burned there. Then, suddenly, as if her mind was made up, Nat took the straw out of her glass, downed the rest of her drink, and popped the cherry into her mouth. She pulled out the stem, tossed it onto the counter and said, “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Six

  With the ghost of Adam’s kiss lingering on Natalie’s lips, she took his hand and pulled him toward the exit before she could change her mind. Or come to her senses. Or both. Because she did care. Always had. From the moment she first saw Adam today, she’d known the truth. The kiss, which had left her feeling heady, had only cemented that knowledge

  “You’re serious,” Adam said with a surprised laugh as he tossed several bills onto the counter to cover their tab.

  “It was your idea.” In the lobby, Natalie stopped and looked up at him. “Unless, you know, you were kidding.” She tried to keep her voice light, but her eyes pricked with the thought. I’m probably going to be Mrs. Adam Bradford in a few minutes. It might not last, but somehow, she couldn’t shake the idea that this would be worth the momentary insanity of marrying in Vegas on a whim. Even if she was the only one who really cared. Adam obviously felt something; she doubted he would have looked at her and touched her the way he had if he didn’t find her at least passably attractive. But she’d been the one to initiate the kiss...

  Adam squeezed her hand, shaking his head as he laughed. “Maybe you have changed. The old Nat hated spontaneous stuff.” He tugged her hand and led the way outside. “Come on. Let’s get a marriage license.”

  Marriage license. Marriage. Natalie’s insides felt like she was headed down a giant hill on a roller coaster. She clung to Adam’s hand to steady herself. He must have interpreted the action as happiness or something, because he squeezed back and grinned.

  The sun was setting, but the bright signs the strip and downtown Vegas were lit up. Even with the fading sun, the air was hot and dry; Natalie felt like she was walking—‌nearly running, now—‌through a wall of heat. Adam moved left and right between pedestrians, pulling her behind him, like they were moving along a slalom course or a racetrack. Then he stopped, and she nearly ran into him. She managed to climb into the cab Adam had just hailed.

  “We need a marriage license,” Adam told the driver. “And then a ride to the nearest wedding chapel that isn’t cheesy.”

  “No Elvis?”

  “No Elvis,” Adam repeated.

  “You got it,” the driver said with a nod.

  Natalie had no idea if you could get a wedding license at a wedding chapel or what getting one involved, but clearly, they weren’t the first couple to make a similar request. She almost added that the chapel couldn’t be drive thru either, but bit the words back and leaned against the upholstery of the cab. What did it matter where this crazy thing happened at this point?

  The cabbie pulled into a parking stall and gave directions to the correct office in the red building. In a bit of a haze, Natalie followed along through the halls, produced her ID when needed, and returned to the cab, which took off through the city streets again. Her mind kept trying to argue that this was foolish, that she’d regret it, and that of course this wouldn’t work out. Why was Adam so insistent on marrying her now anyway? Was he hoping for a wild wedding night before filing for an annulment? Her eyes burned with tears from a million emotions.

  The cab ride was both the shortest and longest of Natalie’s life. Before she knew i
t, Adam was leading her into a miniature white chapel. Natalie eyed the banner over the receptionist’s desk: “Chapel O Love.” A step up from Elvis, she supposed. And not a drive-thru.

  In no time, they filled out the paperwork, selected a wedding package, and the minister—‌wearing a clip-on tie and sneakers, and his wife—‌the receptionist-turned-organist waited in the chapel proper.

  Natalie stood at the head of the aisle, just like she had earlier today—‌yet everything was different. She held a bouquet of fake flowers. How many other last-minute brides had held the same bouquet? She looked across the small room, which was flanked by three rows of pews, all empty. With relish, the minister’s wife began the bridal march on the old organ.

  At the first note, Adam looked over from his spot at the end of the aisle and grinned. Natalie felt as if her heart had been jump-started by the organ. She forced herself to take a step forward, and then another, but each was harder than the last. Did that smile of Adam’s means this really was a big joke? Some blast from the past, wild thing to do for old time’s sake?

  Halfway down the aisle, she was painfully aware of the empty white pews. Her parents and siblings should be here to see her married. And Sierra. But the bitter feeling growing inside her was more than that.

  Does Adam really love me?

  She took two more steps and stopped at the minister. She looked up at Adam and searched his face, but didn’t know what she read there. She still cared for him as much as ever, but if he really loved her back, why hadn’t he ever contacted her? Why had he broken up to begin with?

  None of this is real. And it’s not worth it.

  The minister held a Bible open with what looked like a cheat sheet for his script resting on top. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of…” He had to consult the paper to get their names right.

  Pastor Jones from home should be performing the ceremony. He’d known her since she wore pigtails.

  The minister’s voice droned on, but Natalie’s brain seemed to be yelling at her. What do you think you’re doing?!

  She’d felt drawn to Adam all day, finally admitted that she’d never gotten over him. She still loved him. And yes, she wanted to be with him. But not because of a silly promise they’d made on a spring night more than seven years ago. Not as a joke. Not temporarily.

  And most importantly, not if Adam didn’t love her the same way.

  His three beers came back to her mind. Adam had to be drunk—‌tipsy, at least. He’d surely lost his inhibitions. That was what had landed them here. That, and one amazing, intoxicating kiss.

  The minister paused and looked at her, and Natalie realized that it was probably her cue.

  She shook her head and pushed the bouquet toward the minister. It hit the top of the Bible and fell to the ground. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, but I can’t do this.”

  Natalie raced out of the wedding chapel. She hailed the first cab she saw and climbed in, giving the driver instructions to just drive, but fast. She locked the door, and the cab raced away.

  She covered her face with her hands. What an idiot I’ve been.

  Chapter Seven

  “Where to now?” The cabbie looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Driving for a long time ain’t cheap.”

  “I just need a minute.”

  “Alright,” he said, pressing the gas pedal when the light turned green. “It’s your money.”

  Natalie leaned to the side and rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window separating her from the desert heat. She didn’t care what this ride cost. She couldn’t return to the hotel yet; the chances of running into Adam were too great. He might even be waiting for her in the lobby. She couldn’t face him right now. Not when he’d made a joke out of marrying her.

  Or maybe he’d figured out that she still had feelings for him. She could not abide his pity.

  The cab stopped at another red light. “You sure you want me to keep going?” the driver asked. He nodded toward the ticking fare.

  The total had crept up awfully fast. Natalie choked. She checked her watch. It had been over half an hour. Surely Adam had gone back to the hotel by now. He could be in one of the restaurants, but it was probably safe to slip through the lobby and get to her room without seeing him. “How close is the Wynn?”

  “Just a couple of blocks. Should I drop you off there?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  After paying a tab close to the cost of her flight, she went into the hotel senses on high alert. She hurried along the elegant hallway to the elevators and successfully made it inside. When the shiny doors slid shut and the elevator began moving, she leaned against the back and let out a huge breath. No more facing Adam. Ever.

  Except that in a few hours, she’d not only have to face him, but she’d have to walk down the aisle with him as Sierra’s bridesmaid. She hadn’t thought that anything in the world short of death could keep her from her best friend’s wedding, but jilting Adam at the altar might be enough.

  No. I have to be there for Sierra.

  Just like Adam had been there for her after the accident. Not Adam again. In frustration, she hit the elevator wall with her fist. She had to stop thinking about him and everything about him she’d fallen in love with. Tomorrow at the wedding, she’d ignore him and pray to whatever powers that be to not blush. Then she’d escape after the ceremony.

  Maybe Adam will ditch the wedding. That was a vain thought. Adam wouldn’t miss Jason’s wedding any more than Natalie would miss Sierra’s.

  The doors opened to her floor, and Natalie stepped out of the elevator, only to freeze at the sight of a dark-haired man. He had Adam’s build, but on closer inspection, she relaxed; he wasn’t Adam. She headed down the hall to her room with shaky legs, fishing through her purse for her key card and wishing she knew which floor he was staying on. When she was safely inside, she kicked off her shoes and undid the twist in her hair. She sat on the bed and massaged her aching scalp as she took in the gorgeous view of the city from the window.

  The next several hours were painful. First Natalie lay on her pillow, still in her dress, and stared at the ceiling. The luxury of the Wynn was entirely lost on her. She didn’t care about the slippers laid out by the bed or the other amenities. She wanted to hide. Too bad she couldn’t tell Scotty to beam her to Manhattan and be done with it.

  She’d be miserable even at her apartment, though; she knew that as well as she knew anything—‌like the fact that she still loved Adam Bradford.

  Refusing to cry, she sat up and massaged her feet, realizing that after the day she’d had, they were beyond sore. With her knee up, her hem slid down her thigh, revealing the old scar. A flood of emotions crashed through her again. Her index finger carefully traced the pale pink line.

  I kissed him today. The thought brought a twinge of joy along with pain. She could hold on to that brief moment, relive it over and over in her tiny apartment. Alone. The old hole in her heart felt bigger than ever, gaping. With a fierce shake of her head, she lowered her knee and pulled down her hem. No more thinking about Adam and what might have been. Of what she’d thrown away. Yes, she loved Adam and always would. Might as well accept the truth that this was no teenage crush.

  If he’d ever felt the same, he wouldn’t have broken her heart on that hill. He wouldn’t have been silent. In spite of the hurt from the past, she thought of the chance she’d almost taken— the chance to marry Adam.

  “What did I throw away?” It came out as a whimpered plea, and the answer hit her with a thud. She’d thrown away nothing. Not really, because the marriage wouldn’t have meant anything to him. But oh, how she would have given anything—‌even her flute, which cost more than many cars—‌for Adam to love her back.

  The thought was sobering. She’d given her life to her instrument.

  She stood and paced. This whole thing was making her nuts. What she needed was someone to talk to. A good chat with her best friend would
clear her mind and make everything better. Natalie grabbed her phone from the mattress but hesitated. She couldn’t call Sierra now, wake her up and cry on her shoulder hours before her wedding.

  She sat on the bed and lay back again staring at the ceiling and wishing away the ache in her chest. At some point she must have fallen asleep, because she opened her eyes groggily and checked the clock. It was after five. Her body was sore from being in an awkward position for too long.

  As she tried to orient herself, the kiss, the marriage license, the chapel—‌all of it rushed back. She closed her eyes to block it out, to fall back asleep, but her mind spun, not letting her rest any longer. She needed something peaceful and calm to distract her. Maybe looking at the slow, winding lines of traffic and glowing lights below would do the trick.

  She got up, deciding to check out the observation atrium she’d noticed on one end of the floor, a glassed-in area where you could look eastward over the city. She grabbed her phone and key card but left her shoes by the bed.

  When she reached the atrium, she was in luck—‌it was empty. But then, only crazy people would be city gazing at nearly six in the morning. She stepped inside, right to the edge of the glass. The view was breathtaking, but it wasn’t what she’d expected—‌a black sky and bright lights from the Strip. Instead, night was gradually yielding to morning, and the sun was making its appearance, peeking above the mountains. The gold, almost orange, glow seemed to be pure light and took Natalie’s breath away. She’d always thought Manhattan sunrises were gorgeous, with shades of pink and purple. They looked like Debussy’s “Claire de Lune” moving across the sky as an Impressionist painting.

  This sunrise held none of the mystique, but all of the wonder. It looked more like Grieg’s “Morning Mood,” a favorite because it not only brought the power of morning claiming victory over night, but it also had a strong flute part. The light quickly took over the darkness, just like in Peer Gynt, dissipating the night like a hand gently drawing a blanket of light over the valley.