Beneath a Billion Stars
Julie Carobini
Beneath a Billion Stars (Sea Glass Inn, book #4)
Copyright © 2019 Julie Carobini
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Dolphin Gate Books
Cover by Roseanna White Designs
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.
JULIE CAROBINI writes inspirational beach romances and cozy mysteries … with a twist. RT Book Reviews says, “Carobini has a talent for creating characters that come alive.” Julie lives in California with her family and loves all things coastal (except sharks). Pick up a free ebook here: www.juliecarobini.com/free-book/
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Welcome to the magical Sea Glass Inn novels, where secrets are revealed and hearts are mended. Read all four in the series!:
* * *
Walking on Sea Glass (book 1)
Runaway Tide (book 2)
Windswept (book 3)
Beneath a Billion Stars (book 4)
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Dear Reader
Also by Julie Carobini
About the Author
Chapter 1
Priscilla stood at the edge of the path overlooking the sea and watched Wade Prince try to make up his mind. She had been up since early morning and every inch of her body ached. But Sophia and Christian’s big day had arrived and she was not about to miss it.
Wade, however, did not seem quite as committed.
She considered him, his jaw firmly set. “Well, are you going in?”
Wade’s chin snapped up as if he’d been confronted by a wild animal. His brows lowered, darkening his eyes. “Pardon?”
She quirked her head to the side and put her hand on her hat so it wouldn’t fall off. They were yards from the chapel at Sea Glass Inn and an early spring breeze began to lift the hem of her sundress. “It’s going to be a beautiful wedding, Wade.”
His frown deepened. “You know me.”
“Of course, I do, darling. I’m Priscilla Cornwall. Meg and I have been friends ever since we met unexpectedly in Italy.” Meg, the bride’s sister-in-law, was married to Jackson, president of the family-run company that owned the inn.
“Hmm.”
“I’ve been on staff in the spa for several months now ... you know, as a hairstylist?”
He continued to stare at her, his gaze less-than-dawning.
“I have seen the many changes to the inn that you’ve helped implement, and well, they are just fabulous.” Priscilla didn’t mention that she had also witnessed one of the happiest moments of Wade’s life, nor the eventual, crushing fallout after his uber-romantic plans were dashed.
He nodded, that scowl marring his handsome face.
Too bad.
Priscilla did not let that look bother her, though, because she had seen his smile before, and wow—high wattage, that one. If Wade Prince had not gone into consulting or business management or whatever it was that he did for a living, he could be quite the contender for the silver screen. His fitted white dress shirt, with its French cuffs, hugged a body that had, no doubt, spent ample time at the gym. And with his skin agreeably tanned, the chiseled edges of his face gave him a youthful look, as did the slight wave in his hair, black and salted at the edges like a margarita.
A musical prelude reached her ears. “Oh, they must be starting.” Priscilla stepped off the path and onto the soft grass where the pencil-sharp heels of her strappy shoes plunged deep into wet ground. She gasped, falling forward, nothing between her and the earth ... except for Wade.
He caught her mid-fall.
She jerked her head up, her hat slipping backward, her rust-colored hair in disarray—certainly career suicide for a hairdresser.
“So sorry!” Priscilla gripped Wade’s upper arm, torn between crying out in pain from the twist of her ankle or commenting on the firm shape of his bicep. The scent of his cologne tickled her nostrils, in a good way, like a potent essential oil she longed to breathe in deeply.
She tried to avoid eye contact, but couldn’t.
He frowned, concern showing in his eyes. “Careful there.” He helped her stand, his grip steady.
Priscilla continued to hang onto his arm with one hand while settling her floppy hat firmly back onto her head with the other. “Thank you. I can’t imagine what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.” She flashed him a small smile. “You were my knight in shining armor.”
Wade stiffened, his smile restrained, those dark brows of his still pushed together. “Yes. Well, perhaps flat shoes would be a better choice next time.”
She let go of his arm.
See? Wade Prince was exactly what Priscilla did not need in her life—another grumpy, devastatingly handsome man. She had married one of those, and look where that got her—a broken heart and a nest egg only a fraction of what she had expected at her age. Not that she was old. But maybe if she had paid attention to the signs, she would not have wasted time marrying Leo, which meant he wouldn’t have been able to cheat on her while she worked to support them both.
She bit back a sigh and reminded herself to “chin up.” Priscilla still could not believe that Leo had left her for Marnie. The woman had been her neighbor. She had given that woman cuttings of her favorite lavender plants … straight from her garden.
Priscilla shook off her disappointment, reminding herself how far she had come. The sound of the rushing sea just beyond the path soothed her shaky nerves. She ran a hand down her dress, smoothing the wrinkles, and righted her hat once again before zeroing in on the front door of the chapel. She gasped.
Wade turned around and followed her gaze. A small gasp left him too.
Sophia, the bride, stood at the back of the church, steps from the entry doors, looking more radiant than ever. Behind her, Meg fussed with her veil while Sophia’s beloved brother, Jackson strode toward them both with a smile that could light a small city.
Priscilla moistened her lips and took one more glance at Wade. “I know she broke your heart.”
If looks could crack a stone, Wade’s might have made her crumble. But she didn’t crumble easily. Had she been bitter when Leo, who had been on disability due to an injury, took up with her neighbor—a woman who had called her friend? For a little while, yes.
But bitterness solved nothing. That, she had learned.
She noted the way Wade swung his gaze away from her, back to Sophia, and then to her again. He turned fully toward her now, his chin dipped, as if she were something of a curiosity to him. “I want nothing but the best for Sophia,” he said. “But thank you for your concern.”
She shrugged off the edge that had crept into his voice, but before she could respond, another voice split the air between them.
“Priscilla!” Meg waved at her like a mother l
ooking for her young. “Can you help?”
She nodded and assured Meg with a wave back that, yes, she would absolutely help the bride with her veil. A quickening in her chest caught her by surprise. Priscilla hadn’t felt needed in a long while—too long. She had lost her purpose after caring for an injured spouse who ultimately cheated on her. She didn’t care to have him back, but purpose? Priscilla would not mind finding that again. Not at all.
Priscilla caught Wade’s gaze. “Thank you again for catching me. See you inside?”
He pressed his lips together for a moment, as if assessing her. With all the commitment of a toddler under strict orders, he shrugged and said, “I might be there.”
Meg hugged her. “You’re a life saver, Priscilla. My hair is perfect and Sophia looks like royalty! Thank you so much for getting up early to spoil us.”
“It was my pleasure.”
“Who knew that our serendipitous meeting in Italy would turn into such a friendship?”
“Divine intervention. That’s what I always say.”
Together the women stepped back and watched as Jackson offered the crook of his arm to his sister. The smile he gave her faltered, his eyes watering.
Meg pressed a hand to her cheek. “Now I’m going to cry.”
Priscilla whipped out a tissue and handed it over. “You go ahead and cry, honey. My purse is full of them for just such an occasion.”
The string quartet paused, the anticipation in the air palpable.
Sophia swung a look toward Meg and Priscilla, her smile wide and glowing. “Thank you both so much,” she whispered.
Meg blew her a kiss as an usher the size of a linebacker appeared. “Ready to take your seat?”
She nodded. “Yes, absolutely!” Meg turned back and latched onto Priscilla’s arm. “Sit up front.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t. I’ll just find a place in the back.”
“I insist! You’ve ... you’ve become like another sister to me,” Meg said, that hitch in her voice. “Liddy’s holding a space for you, right in front of my mother and Jax.”
Priscilla smiled at the mention of Meg’s newborn son. She guessed that Meg’s close friend Liddy would have her young son with her too. “All right.”
Quickly, Priscilla made her way to the front of the chapel and found her seat. Liddy leaned toward her and gave her a squeeze. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“There’s so much love in this place, I can’t stand it. The groom’s been pacing like a lion.”
Christian, the groom, fidgeted up at the front of the chapel, not in an anxious way, but with a face full of anticipation. He wrote fantasy novels with a touch of romance and had fallen headlong into a happily-ever-after of his own.
When the first few notes of “The Wedding March” began, Priscilla stood and turned, the bride’s presence ushering in sighs all around. She had been a bride once, too, and she had meant her vows with all her heart. Unfortunately, the other side of that equation had not. When temptation came calling his name, he grabbed the apple, so to speak.
Priscilla shook off thoughts of the past and reminded herself, for the second time today, to “chin up.” She took in the beauty of the bride as she floated toward the front of the chapel like an angel. After the bride met her groom at the altar, Priscilla cast a glance back over her shoulder, across the rows of whitewashed pews behind her. But Wade wasn’t anywhere in view.
Chapter 2
Wade allowed the wine to take the edge off of an already tense situation. He had a difficult time swallowing, well, all of it.
Laughter rang out and he snapped a look up. The first dances had all been completed and the rest of the visitors had flooded the compact dance floor that the inn had set up on this precipice overlooking the Pacific Ocean. With so many people twirling and sliding out there, calling attention to themselves, he would have a better chance of laying low at his table along the perimeter of the guests.
He took in the vast sky and flickered his gaze at the calm sea. A sigh helped him to release pent-up emotion. William, the man who had built this place, would be pleased at how his inn was being used this day. Admittedly, Wade spent more time here than necessary, but he had a soft spot for the inn. William had been a mentor to him many years before, and when Wade added consulting and marketing to his list of businesses, Riley Holdings was his first client. Since then—and especially after William’s death—Wade had made the inn a priority.
He glanced at William’s children, Jackson and Sophia, who were both out on the dance floor, a testament to lives restored.
“She’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Meg’s voice interrupted Wade’s musings.
He nodded. “Your sister-in-law makes a beautiful bride. No doubt there.”
Meg shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about Sophia, although, of course, she is so lovely.” She glanced toward a table at the edge of the dance floor. A woman with flowing red hair sat watching the dancing. “I meant Priscilla.”
“Your friend who works in the salon.”
“Right. You were talking to her before the wedding, right? I thought maybe ...”
He looked at her, his mind blank. “You thought?”
Meg gave him a confident smile. Jackson’s wife was the hotel’s sales director, and she was good at convincing people of what they needed. Usually.
The tip of her tongue stuck out between her teeth. Another smile. “Maybe you should ask her to dance.”
Wade took another sip of his wine and pulled an envelope out of his suit coat pocket and handed it to Meg. “Actually, I’m about to leave as I have another matter to attend to. Will you see that the happy couple receives this?”
Jackson swooped in between them, just as Meg reached for the envelope. “What are you two whispering about over here?”
Meg gave her husband an admonishing scowl. She took the envelope from Wade. “I hope I didn’t say anything to drive you away. I just ... well, we all want to see you happy.”
“I agree with my wife.” Jackson put a hand on Wade’s shoulder. “It’s incredible that you decided to come today. Meant the world to Sophia. And to me, especially under the circumstances.”
Wade leveled a gaze at Jackson. “Circumstances?”
Jackson glanced at the bride and back to Wade. “Not too many men would attend their ex’s wedding and wish them well.”
Meg nodded solemnly.
Wade waved a hand at them. “Trust me—I don’t think of Sophia as my ‘ex’. She’s your sister and the daughter of a man who I hold in high regard, even these years after his passing.” He shook his head. “I apologize if my demeanor has given you the impression that I did not want to be here.”
“Completely understood,” Jackson said. “I couldn’t help but notice how you’ve stepped up your traveling lately. All I can say is that I’m glad you have your work to keep your mind busy.”
Wade smiled his regret. “I don’t think you do understand. I am preoccupied with a ... particular business matter this weekend. Again, my apologies.”
Trace, the inn’s longtime concierge, joined them. She was known for her direct and eccentric ways. “Hey there, Mr. Prince,” she said. “Just stopping by to offer my condolences. You gave it your best shot, though, right? That’s all you can do.”
“Trace!” Meg said.
Trace chuckled, her eyes still on Wade. She leaned forward. “Don’t worry. I have your back. In fact, now that I know the type of woman you’re after, I’ll be sure to alert you when I meet someone like that.”
Jackson cleared his throat. “Trace, I’m sure Wade can handle his personal life without your assistance.”
Wade stood. While Trace had surprised him, it was Jackson’s reaction that brought a smile to his face—and a distraction he needed. “Thank you, everyone. Excellent event, as always.”
The convention services manager showed up and touched Jackson’s elbow. “Sir? I have a few items I would like to discuss with you. Would now be a g
ood time?”
Jackson nodded.
Wade and Meg watched Jackson walk away from the event with the manager. He was about to turn and say his final goodbye to Meg when he noticed Priscilla moving toward them. She wore a translucent gown that fit her body well, yet moved like angel wings around her.
He turned away.
Truthfully, he had been a little put off by his encounter with Priscilla earlier today. She certainly was a beautiful woman, but something seemed too set up there for his taste. Been there. Done that. In the six months since he had fallen hard so quickly for Sophia—and lost her to another man—Wade had done some soul searching. Had spent time with God and began to see all the ways he had been neglecting his other pursuits.
He had heeded that call, which is one of the reasons that a new, discouraging development had soured his mood so swiftly.
“You made it after all.” She approached him, her mouth smiling. She seemed close to laughter and he might have thought it was alcohol had her eyes not been so clear and focused on him. “Such a beautiful wedding. And this band!” She swept an arm toward the stage from where big band sounds emanated. “Aren’t they fabulous?”
“They are indeed.”
She took another step toward him, her scent like fresh rain. He darted a look at Meg, sending an SOS her way.
But Meg did not appear to notice. Or she chose not to.
Priscilla reached out a hand to him. “Dance with me?”
He teetered. It would not be polite to turn her down. On the other hand, he had something he must take care of. Besides, if he were to suddenly begin spending time with another woman so closely associated with the inn, the Riley family would think he was preying on their most beautiful people.
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