Chapter 20
After spending the day catching up with his parents, Dylan had actually been looking forward to tonight’s party. He’d thought it would be nice to go to a fancy event and get to meet some of their friends, as well as the sultan, the host of the party. All that changed, though, when he saw Kinsley. It hadn’t dawned on him that she might’ve gotten an invitation to the party too, but it made sense that had as she was one of the city’s top brokers. It didn’t help either that she looked more beautiful than ever in that silver dress. Sophisticated and sleek described it. She stood out in the room like a spectacular butterfly surrounded by moths.
When he saw her make a toast with her friends, members of that No Brides Club, no doubt, he felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room and if he didn’t get out soon, he would die.
To see her in her world and how she fit so perfectly in it, while he came from a similar background, but didn’t, was too much to handle. There was only one thing for him to do and that was to go back to Camille. He fit at the sanctuary like she fit at the penthouse. He made up a story for his parents that he was needed back there right way. He didn’t know if they fell for it or not, but neither one said anything to imply that they didn’t. They were just sorry that he had to leave and hoped he could come back soon. He hated to fib to them, but how could he tell them the truth? What would he even say? I’ve fallen for another city girl and this time didn’t work out either… No, he’d rather they not know at all than to think of him as a loser.
The ride home had been miserable. It was a relief when he pulled up in front of his small house. He kept seeing Kinsley with that champagne glass in her hand, laughing with her friends, and although he was glad she has happy, it tore him apart that he wasn’t. He even had started to think maybe he should take her up on her offer, if it still stood, to buy his property. It was beginning to seem like the best thing for him would be to move on, find someplace new and start fresh. He was mulling that over when Sunny jumped off the couch and ran over to the window barking. Madison and Benny joined him, and the three dogs started making more noise than an entire kennel. Could that coyote have come back? He was heading into the bedroom for his rifle when the doorbell rang. Who would be at his house at this hour? It was after midnight. He looked outside, but it was too dark to see anyone. The darn floodlight must’ve burned out. Hopefully, it wasn’t the sheriff. If that gate was left unlatched again, someone was going to be in a lot of trouble. Dylan swung open the door, expecting the worst. What he found was Kinsley, wearing the gorgeous silver dress she’d had on at the party and holding a bottle of champagne and two flutes.
He stood there for a moment in stunned silence. She was an ever-changing mystery. “What are you doing here?” he finally managed to ask.
“We have unfinished business.”
“At this hour?”
“Some things can’t wait.” She scooted around him, not waiting for him to ask her inside.
“Come on in,” he said sarcastically, following her into the living room. The three dogs were jumping around her legs. “Hey, guys, easy. I’m sure she doesn’t want you slobbering all over her dress.”
“That’s okay. I don’t mind. I probably won’t wear it again anyway.”
“Why not? Can’t be seen wearing the same thing twice?”
She shot him a dirty look. “No. I just don’t plan on going to any more parties, unless you go with me.”
His body stiffened in shock. He was caught off guard by that. “What are you talking about?”
She set the bottle and glasses down on the coffee table and then sat on the couch next to Benny. “I saw you in Manhattan earlier at the West Ridge penthouse. You were there with your parents. Your dad is the sultan’s accountant.”
He drew a deep shuddering breath as his shock turned to anger. “What are you spying on me?”
She rolled her eyes. “I wanted to talk to you, but by the time I got across the room you were gone, so I asked the man I’d seen you with where you went, never thinking it was your father. Actually, I didn’t even think you were you. I thought maybe you had a body double or something. I mean, I couldn’t imagine why you would be in Manhattan, let alone at the sultan’s penthouse. But you were. You grew up in Brooklyn, not the country like you wanted me to believe.”
“Wow! My parents told you a lot. I’ll have to warn them in the future not to give my personal information to strangers, or it might be used against me.”
Kinsley ignored him and continued to explain. “Your mom was very informative. She explained why you don’t like the city. She even told me why you don’t want to get involved with city women because of a past relationship.”
“That’s a lot of information. Did you ever think you should’ve become an investigator, instead of a real estate broker?” he asked with bridled anger in his voice.
“You can play the victim all you want,” she shot back, “but I’m glad I met your parents and found out what I did.”
“What difference does it make?”
“It makes a ton of difference. Your mom is amazing. She made me see things in a whole new way. She even helped me with my dipper wish.”
“How’d she do that?”
“By confirming that it’s possible to have it all, both love and a career.”
“And you think you can do that?”
“I know I can.”
“How?”
“By moving back here and being with you. That takes care of the love part, and I’m working on the career. I have appointments lined up next week to interview brokers. There’s no reason I need to do everything myself. This way I can spend a few days in the city and the rest in the country.”
Dylan could barely believe his ears. Maybe he was asleep, and this was a dream. To prove it wasn’t, he took hold of Kinsley’s hands, pulling her up onto her feet, then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close enough to smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume. But if was the feel of her warm, soft lips on his when he kissed her that told him this was no dream. This was very, very real.
When their lips parted, he asked, “Did I hear you say something about love?”
“You did indeed. I love you, Dylan Reese, and I’m not afraid to say it. I don’t want to spend my life alone. I want to spend it with you, looking for loose bears and fighting off coyotes and anything else that might happen on this wonderful sanctuary.”
He felt a bottomless peace and satisfaction. “I love you too, Kinsley King. I love your spirit and resolve, your strength and intelligence, but most of all I love your kindness. You’ve got everything I’ve ever hoped to find in a woman, and it’s all wrapped up in one gorgeous, spunky package.”
Happiness radiated from her eyes. “You have quite a way with words.”
“I have a way with other things too,” he replied, covering her mouth with his own.
Chapter 21
Tonight there were no shadows across her heart. All Kinsley’s worries were gone, replaced with a warm glow that flowed through her. When she’d left the party, the only thing on her mind was talking to Dylan, but she wasn’t sure how receptive he’d be to her showing up at his house at midnight. It had been a little rocky there at first, and a couple of times, she thought he might ask her to leave. Especially, when she told him about the conversation she’d had with his parents. Thankfully, his anger didn’t last long, and they were able to finally express how they felt about each other. Kinsley had never been in love before, so this crazy, giddy feeling was new to her.
She watched as Dylan removed the foil wrap from the champagne bottle. “Careful,” she urged, as he untwisted the wire loop to loosen the cage that protected the cork. If it was removed too quickly, the cork could pop, and they’d wind up with a champagne shower.
“Don’t worry. It’s under control.” Once the cork was almost out, he twisted the end, grasping it firmly, until the cork slid smoothly out of the bottle.
“I’m very impressed. Where’d you learn
how to do that?”
He winked. “I can’t give up all my secrets.” After pouring them each a glass, he made a toast. “To new beginnings that last a lifetime.”
“And to believing that wishes can come true,” she added, clinking her flute against his.
“I always did deep down, you know.”
“I did too. I just refused to let it out, until I was lucky enough to talk to your mom.”
“Speaking of moms,” Dylan said as he disappeared into the bedroom for a moment. He returned holding a little black velvet box. “My grandmother gave me this before she died.”
When he lifted the lid, Kinsley gasped. Inside was a beautiful heart shaped ruby surrounded by diamonds.
“It was her engagement ring. She hoped one day I’d present it to the woman of my dreams. I’d given up hope of that ever happening until I met you.”
Kinsley’s eyes filled with tears.
“I know it might seem a little soon. After all, we haven’t known each other very long, but I feel like we have. Besides, we’ve already got the house, which reminds me, I need to give you this.” With his other hand, he reached into his pant pocket, pulled out the key to the Victorian, and placed it in her palm. “And we have the dogs too, so I figured we might as well get engaged.”
When he dropped down on one knee, her tears spilled onto her cheeks, but they were the happiest tears she’d ever cried in her life.
“Kinsley, will you marry me?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”
His hands were trembling when he slid the ring onto her finger, and to make the night even more perfect, it fit just right. No adjustment needed.
They curled up on the couch together, with the dogs on each side of them, and made wedding plans. Of course, it would be held at the Victorian, and the No Brides Club members would be her maids of honor.
They agreed on everything, except what to do for their honeymoon. Dylan wanted to go to some exotic tropical island, and she didn’t want to go anywhere.
“Why do I have to go somewhere when I have everything I want right here?” she asked.
“I don’t know. That’s a good question.”
She rested her head on his chest and looked up at him. “Does this mean you’re starting to agree with me?”
“Don’t you know, that all I want is to make you happy?”
Before she could answer, his mouth covered hers hungrily, and spirals of ecstasy shot through her.
Epilogue
Kinsley hurried into the Briarwood Tavern, anxious to tell her friends her news. The usual crowd was at the bar. She made her way around a group of Wall Street types, flashing her ring at them when one offered to buy her a drink. “All the good ones are always taken,” she heard somebody say before she made her way into the dining room. The group was at their usual table, and she slid into one of the tufted leather banquettes beside Melody.
“You look different,” her friend said.
“I do? In what way?”
Melody studied her more closely. “I don’t know. Kind of glowy. Did you get a facial?”
“No.”
“A new moisturizer?” Rachel guessed.
“Nope. Maybe it’s this,” Kinsley shouted, slapping her left hand down on the middle of the table so they could all see her ring.
Georgie’s eyes grew wide. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It sure is,” Kinsley beamed.
“How is that possible?” Julie asked. “You go to some sanctuary way out in the country, and you come back engaged?”
She shrugged. “There’s no telling where or when your Mr. Right will come along. You just have to be smart enough not to pass him up.”
“I didn’t think we were looking.” The corners of Kate’s mouth were turned down slightly. “What about the club? Is this the end of it?”
“Of course not,” Kinsley said quickly. “We’re friends forever. That’ll never change. Besides, all we have to do after the last of us gets engaged is to drop the No from our name and we become the Brides Club.”
“I like that,” Rachel said with a grin.
“I do too,” Julie added.
“I guess that means you’re all ready to celebrate with me?” Kinsley asked hopefully.
“You bet.” Melody took hold of her hand and held it up so that the other guests could see Kinsley’s ring. “Look. She’s getting married! Isn’t that great?”
Sneak Peek
Read the first chapter of NO TIME FOR LULLABIES book 2 of the No Brides Club…
“Melody, I know you’re in the zone. But it’s almost seven, and all you’ve eaten today is a granola bar.”
Glancing up from the studio piano, Melody was surprised to find Claire, her personal assistant, gazing at her from behind the control room glass.
“Not true. I had a banana, too.”
Rolling her eyes, Claire walked into the rehearsal studio while Melody continued to play. She’d been working on the same song for hours. The lyrics, like always, flowed easily. It was the chord progression in the bridge that was giving her a migraine. And carpal tunnel. Sure, she could’ve worked on the song upstairs in her office, but Melody liked the seclusion of the studio. Besides her apartment, the rehearsal studio was her favorite place to write.
“I didn’t realize you were still here,” Melody said. “Don’t you want to get home to that pretty little girl?”
Claire’s face morphed into a dreamy smile. “Is it that obvious?”
Melody grinned. “Just a little. Get out of here.”
“I thought we should go over your schedule one more time.”
“Might as well,” Melody said with a sigh. “I’m stuck on this section, anyway.”
“And you need to eat. I think I saw some leftover pizza in the lounge. I can heat some up and meet you in your office?”
“You’re an angel, Claire.”
One of the many perks of being a songwriter and music producer—besides having a personal assistant—was her high-rise office in the Big Apple. As she gazed out the window at the beautiful city below, she couldn’t help but feel proud of herself.
Melody had just been a kid when she moved to Nashville. Brokenhearted and desperate for a new life, she waited tables and performed at open mic nights just to get her music heard. She knew she wasn’t a great singer, but her songs caught the attention of an exec at Harmony Music who offered her an internship and freelance writing position. When Melody wasn’t delivering coffee to some of the most famous singers on Music Row, she was gazing longingly at the platinum records and Grammy awards that lined the shelves. Whenever she had a free minute, Melody was chained to her desk in a tiny cubicle, writing until her fingers were ready to fall off.
Two years later, she wrote her first number one song and won her first Grammy. And with that success, she was promoted to staff songwriter and transferred to the main office in New York City.
Still a simple girl at heart, she argued with management that she didn’t need a fancy office of her own. All she needed was a desk. But eight years later, she was a successful songwriter and music producer, and she was grateful to have her own space on the tenth floor of Harmony Music in the heart of Manhattan.
And her six Grammys looked amazing on her shelf.
With a contented sigh, Melody made herself comfortable on the love seat just as Claire walked in with a slice of pepperoni pizza and a bottle of water.
Melody’s stomach growled immediately. Claire smirked.
“I guess I am hungry. Thanks.”
“No problem,” Claire said, slipping off her heels before curling her feet beneath her on the couch. “I hope you don’t mind. I wore slippers for six weeks. My feet are killing me.”
“Not at all. And I’m sorry I kept you here so late. I just lost track of time.”
“Please don’t apologize. I’m so happy to be back at work.”
“But you miss your baby. I get it.”
Claire sighed softly. “I do
miss her. It’s hard. So much harder than I thought it would be. But I’m determined to juggle both my family and my career. I can do this.”
Melody gave her assistant a sympathetic smile. Claire’s first week back from maternity leave had been an emotional time for the new mommy—filled with spontaneous eruptions of tears that struck fear in the hearts of all the men in the office. Melody—completely out of her element but desperate to help her friend—had tried to be a constant source of pep talks and tissues.
“Of course you can do this. You are doing it. I’m so proud of you.”
Claire smiled. “Thank you. Now grab your phone and let’s go over your calendar, because it’s killing me. Who knew you could make such a mess of it while I was on maternity leave?”
With a laugh, Melody took a few bites of her pizza before setting it aside and reaching for her phone. Besides her guitar, her phone was her most prized possession. It was basically a high-tech Rolodex, with a contact list that read like a Who’s Who of the biggest artists in music today. Most importantly, her phone contained thousands of random lyrics. Being a songwriter was both a blessing and a curse. It was fantastic when the royalty checks rolled in. It wasn’t so great when words and phrases woke her up at two in the morning. Luckily, her music studio app was always handy, just waiting for Melody to record song lyrics in the middle of the night.
She glanced at the week ahead on her phone. Claire was right. Her calendar was a mess. The only bright spot was Thursday night—her weekly night out with the No Brides Club.
“Wow, my calendar is a scary place.”
Claire frowned. “No kidding. Now, I know we’ve been over this, but I still think you should let me clear your schedule for next week. You’ve had a death in the family, and the funeral is nine hours away. I know you have vacation days.”
“Claire, I can’t be away from the office that long.”
No Time for Love: No Brides Club, Book 1 Page 12
