Unpredictable Love Page 14

  “Are you trying to turn me off?”

  He grinned. “Just being honest. I don’t want to paint a picture of a future with me as a bed of roses, ’cause it won’t be. Any girl who ends up with me, well…” his voice tapered off.

  “Are you looking for someone to ‘end up with’?” She cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Men are always looking.”

  “But not for permanent. Just for the night. Usually.”

  “Some, yeah. That’s true. Never known one to turn down a free night with a pretty girl.”

  “And you?”

  He blushed redder than she’d ever seen. “Let’s not go there. The military. Well, you know.”

  “I don’t. I don’t think I want to.” She dropped her gaze to her hands.

  There was silence. Having finished his cake, he toyed with his fork. She picked at the corner of her napkin.

  “I wasn’t looking for anyone. Just going day to day. Then, you came along and changed everything.”

  Her head snapped up. “I did?”

  “Yeah. You were more, someone I could talk to. You got me. Before I got messed up.”

  “I didn’t get you in the hospital?”

  “You did, you did. But I mean, before. I didn’t expect it. I expected just what Amber said. A couple of short letters and a polite brush-off. You didn’t do that.” Trent slipped his hand over hers. “I don’t want to lose you. If you’re willing to take a chance on a broken down guy like me, I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

  She listened, searching for a reply, when she cast her gaze on the sideboard. A wrapped package caught her eye. “What’s that?”

  “What?” He turned. “Oh, that. It’s for you. Can’t believe I forgot to give it to you.” He pushed up from the table and snatched up the gift then handed it to her.

  Jory unwrapped it. Inside was a used book. The dust jacket was torn in a couple of places. She read the title. World So Wide by Sinclair Lewis.

  “Oh my God. World So Wide! Where did you find this?”

  “At a garage sale. Can’t get it new anymore. It’s not in eBook, either.”

  “You remembered?”

  He nodded. “You said it was the only Sinclair Lewis book you’d never read. It’s hard to find. But I managed to run across it hawking books at a few garage sales.”

  “I can’t believe you remembered.” She shook her head slowly as she thumbed through the book. Emotion tumbled through her.

  “I remember everything you ever said or wrote me.” His smile eased, his brows knitted.

  In an instant, Jory was out of her seat and in his arms, sobbing.

  “Don’t cry, honey. Be happy.” He stroked her hair. “I love you, Jory. You took a chance on me before. Please, do it again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let me make your dreams come true,” he whispered. “Last week, you asked me to never leave you. I won’t. I can’t. Marry me. I need you. We’ll be together forever.”

  She stepped back to gaze at him.

  Trent dropped to one knee and pulled out a small box. “This is my mother’s ring. If you don’t like it, we’ll buy a new one together.” He opened it to reveal a modest, round diamond in an antique, white gold setting.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “Jory Walker, I love you. Marry me. I promise to do everything in my power to give you a good life, to take care of you. To be a faithful, loving husband and stay with you forever.”

  Warmth surrounded her heart. “I love you too. Yes, I will marry you.”

  He stood up and slipped the ring on her finger. She tilted her chin up, and he lowered his mouth to hers. Love filled her heart. She touched his face, and he swooped her up in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

  Saturday morning, the sound of birds fighting at the feeder woke Jory. She yawned and stretched her arms. A smile lit up her face as she rolled on her side to study the naked back of her lover. She had had the best night’s sleep in months, maybe years. Trent had made love to her three times, and though she’d expected to be exhausted, energy bounded through her veins.

  Regardless of his leg surgery, the man was in great shape, as evidenced by his stamina and abilities the night before. His enthusiasm for her body had taken her places she hadn’t been before. Well, maybe once or twice before, with him. Basking in the afterglow, she gazed at the small ring on her finger then out the window, watching the chickadees aggressively intimidating the goldfinches, hoping to chase the iridescent yellow creatures away.

  A deep voice startled her. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, in a lazy drawl.

  She rolled over, pulling the sheet up over her chest.

  Trent leaned on his elbows, hovering over her. “Hey, you’re spoiling the view,” he said, easing the covering down.

  Embarrassment warmed her face. He bent to kiss her breasts before she could hide them. His tender touch excited her and soothed at the same time. Trent would soon be her husband, no reason to be self-conscious in front of him, she told herself, but old habits die hard.

  “Shy?” he asked.

  She nodded. “A little.”

  He chuckled. “That’s cute.”

  “Cute?”

  “Yeah. That you’re shy in front of me. It’s real cute.” He raised his lips to hers. “Just can’t resist you.”

  “You didn’t get enough last night?”

  “Honey, it’s gonna take a lifetime to get enough of you,” he murmured.

  They made love in the cool air of the June morning. After, they lay in each other’s arms.

  “Jory,” he said, as his breathing slowed to normal. “Didn’t you say something about pancakes?”

  She burst out laughing, slipped out from under him, and threw open the covers. “Coming right up.”

  He slapped her butt playfully as she pushed out of bed.

  ****

  Sunday afternoon, Jory drove to Pine Grove to meet her aunt for lunch and make a wedding list. Nan had omelets waiting.

  “Okay, I’ve started a list. Here’s what we need to do. Get dresses for you, Amber, and me. Make a guest list, send out invitations, get a caterer, decide on flowers, pick a minister…”

  “Whoa! Slow down.”

  “When do you want to get married?”

  “Hmm. It’s June now. How about September 15th? It’s still nice out then.”

  “That’s not much time.”

  “But we’ll have a very small guest list, right?”

  “Your dress will take time.”

  “Where does one buy a wedding dress?”

  “I think we could hire Hattie Carter to make one for you. What do you think?”

  “Great idea! I know just what I want.”

  Jory put up a second pot of coffee as the women conferred. The small guest list, which started at ten, quickly rose to fifty.

  “And she’s absolutely the last person on the list,” Jory said, crossing her arms.

  “What about Archie and Marla?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Yep. He’s a lowlife.”

  “Sure is. And easy to forget, too.”

  “Let’s split the tasks up, things’ll go faster that way.”

  “Okay. I’ll talk to Laura,” Jory volunteered.

  “She’ll have good ideas about what to serve.”

  “Right.”

  “I’m excited,” Nan said, her eyes glowing.

  “I wish Amber was here,” Jory said, emotion constricting her throat.

  “She’ll be here for the wedding. According to her last email, she and Troy are doing fine.”

  “I know. I’m glad she’s happy, but I miss the little doofus.”

  Nan chuckled. “So do I. She’s going to come for a week before the wedding. That should give her plenty of time to mess up a couple of things.”

  “Yeah, then I won’t miss her so much when she goes back.”

  Jory stopped off at Laura Dailey’s
house on her way back to Oak Bend.

  “You want me to cater a wedding for fifty?”

  “We inviting fifty, Laura. I bet they don’t all come.”

  “Really? To your wedding? People will be fighting for an invitation. We should plan for at least sixty.”

  “What can we serve?” Jory asked.

  “Hmm. Chicken marsala works real well with a large crowd. Easy to serve and eat too.”

  Laura went on to mention several other dishes and had Jory’s mouth watering before the young woman climbed back into her car and headed for Route 55.

  Nan had piled half a dozen bridal magazines in the backseat. The bride had strict instructions to go through all of them and pick a design so Hattie could get started. She arrived home in the late afternoon. After mixing a vodka and tonic, she took three magazines and went out on the deck to watch the birds.

  Her cell rang. It was Trent.

  “Whatcha doin’?”

  “Looking through bridal magazines.”

  “Picked a date yet?”

  “September 15th. Can you make it?”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding, right? I’ll be there, baby, tux and all.”

  “Nan’s telling Dan, and he can get you the right duds.”

  “Got good news today.”

  “Oh? What?”

  “Armstrong and Lee Advertising offered me a full-time job.”

  “Oh my God! Really? That’s fabulous, Trent. Wonderful news.”

  “So, I’m moving to Oak Bend.”

  “Perfect!”

  “I’ve been working out of Dan’s place.”

  “So, you’ll be moving in with me, right?”

  “If that’s okay. Or we could get a new place.”

  “No, no. You move in here. The birds are already set up. I’ll clean out a couple of drawers and buy a few hangers.”

  “Don’t clean out too many. I don’t have much.”

  “You’ll need some new clothes if you’re going to go to work every day.”

  “Probably. Can I take you shopping with me?”

  “I’d love it. When do you start? When do you want to move in?”

  They chatted for an hour. Jory couldn’t stop smiling. Trent had been spending weekends at her place, but she missed him terribly during the week. Now, they’d be together all the time. Her heart sang. Luck was breaking her way.

  Jory sat back and watched the chickadees and juncos as they pecked away at the seed in the feeders. She’d never imagined she’d have the life she’d always pictured. After her folks had passed, getting from week to week had been a struggle.

  She sighed, melancholy mixing with happiness. She wished her parents could have been there to see her get married. She knew she’d cry at not having her father give her away. But Nan would have to do. She rubbed her eyes and turned her thoughts to the good things happening. She opened another magazine, took a sip of her drink, and thumbed through the pictures of gorgeous, white gowns, each one more stunning than the previous one.

  Before she had gotten through three magazines, her cell started to ding with text messages. George Hanson at the feed store—hope I’m on your wedding list. Essie Parker, her high school teacher—I know I only had you for one year, but coming to your wedding would mean a lot. Homer Thompson, owner of Homer’s Restaurant—if you have your wedding here, I’ll give you a discount, especially if you invite me.

  Wondering how everybody had gotten her number, she guessed they must have passed it around. She shook her head and smiled.

  Jory picked up her phone.

  “Nan? Remember the guest list? We’d better make it seventy-five.”

  Chapter Eleven

  September 13, two days before the wedding

  Amber slipped out of the house early, with Troy. They got behind the wheel of his car.

  “Where to, baby?”

  “Oak Bend.”

  He headed for Route 55. Amber’s nerves kicked up. She chewed a nail as she stared out the window. Opening her purse, she checked her wallet for the twentieth time. Yes, the five hundred dollars in cash was still there.

  Ever since she’d gotten word that Jory was getting married, Amber had started to save her money. Troy had come upon her stash and questioned her about it.

  “You’re not buying drugs, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Not selling them, either?”

  “Troy! Don’t be ridiculous. I need five-hundred dollars before Jory’s wedding.”

  He had pushed her for an explanation, and she couldn’t hold out on him. She had done a bad thing—a very bad thing, she explained. It had been years ago. When her parents were killed, the coroner had turned over their mother’s wedding band. Her aunt had put it away for safekeeping. Amber knew she had intended for Jory to have the band on her wedding day.

  Amber began to sweat. She didn’t remember why she needed money that day so long ago, maybe to go away with her friends on a forbidden weekend trip? Of course, Amber had not learned to save. After all, she had only been eighteen. She’d searched the house, turned Nan’s room upside down, until she’d found the ring, tucked away in the attic.

  She had hitched a ride with a friend. They had gone to the pawnshop in Oak Bend where Amber had pawned her mother’s wedding band for two-hundred and fifty dollars. She remembered feeling a little guilty at the time, but wiped it away by declaring no one should make a girl like her stay cooped up in a small town every weekend.

  Her other justification had been that Jory was lightyears away from getting married anyway. The ring was just sitting in a box in another box, gathering dust. Why shouldn’t she use it? Why should Jory get everything? Recklessly, she had snatched the ring from its hiding place and turned it into cash.

  After she had realized what she’d done, shame filled her. Driven by guilt, she’d been back a couple of times to check on the piece of jewelry. There it stood, proudly in the window. Amber had panicked when she’d first seen it there. What if the Florentine engraving caught someone’s eye? She had entered the store and, using major flirting, persuaded the owner to put it in a cabinet inside.

  Every year, she’d returned, and it was still there. Now, she had saved up the money. She was going to offer the man up to twice what he’d originally given her to get the ring back. As Troy drove, she uttered silent prayers that it would still be there.

  If the owner refused to sell, she’d convince Troy to scare him into complying. She had to have that band back. Jory deserved it. Their mother would have wanted it that way. Her stomach knotted as they drew nearer to the small town of five thousand that dwarfed tiny Pine Grove.

  “Are you sure this place’s still there?” Troy asked, stopping for a red light.

  “It had better be.”

  “Is this a wild goose chase?” He looked at her through narrowed eyes.

  “No, no. I swear. I called. The store is still there, or was before we left Orlando.”

  “Okay, just checking.” When the light turned green, he depressed the gas pedal.

  Amber was grateful her husband was such a good driver. No way could she be calm enough to man the wheel today. Her pulse thudded in her ear as they approached Main Street. There were only a couple of days left ’til the wedding. She had to get that ring today.

  She directed him to a parking space near the store. She fairly ran up the block. There was a “Be back in ten minutes” sign hanging on the door.

  “Shit! It’s closed.”

  “It’ll be open in ten minutes. Let’s go across the street for coffee, baby.” Troy took her arm and escorted her.

  Amber sat in a booth by the window. She ordered coffee, but barely touched it, keeping her eyes glued to the window.

  “What would happen if you didn’t get the ring?” Troy sat back, savoring his beverage.

  “Don’t say that.”

  “No, I mean it. Really. Would Jory not get married? Would the world stop revolving on its axis? Would we all blow up and die?”
<
br />   “You don’t get it. I stole something. I’m a thief. And it’s my dead mother’s ring. And it’s supposed to go to my sister. My sister who did everything for me. Who put her life on hold at seventeen and took my mom’s place. And did that for fifteen years. I’ll go straight to Hell for this, and Jory’ll hate me. She’ll know I’m just a selfish baby with no morals.”

  “I doubt all that’s true.”

  “Yeah? Well, what if you’re wrong? She’s the only family I have.”

  “What about Nan?”

  “She’ll hate me too.”

  “No one’s going to hate you, Amber. From what I’ve heard from Jory, you’ve done some pretty crazy things in your life, and she still seems to care about you.”

  “But nothing this bad. Nothing directed at her.” Tears welled in Amber’s eyes. “What was I thinking? I’d never do anything to hurt Jory. If I can’t fix it, she’ll never forgive me.”

  “Yes, she will. You’re being melodramatic.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand. You have a normal family.”

  He laughed. “If any family can ever be called normal.”

  Amber jumped. “Look! There he is.”

  “The pawn shop guy?”

  “Get the check. Let’s go.”

  Amber was out of the booth before Troy could answer. He chuckled, shook his head, and smiled at her. She couldn’t stand still, waiting for traffic to slow to cross Main Street. She danced in place, whispering a mantra, “Please let it be there, please let it be there, please let it be there.”

  Two cars with young men behind the wheels stopped to let her pass. They ogled her body as she walked. One was even bold enough to whistle. Troy, right behind, scowling, raised his fist.

  “Guys are pigs,” he muttered, accompanying his wife.

  She opened the door. “Hey, Mr. Groman, remember me?”

  “You? Yes, yes, the young woman with the ring.”

  “I’m back and ready to buy it. Where is it?”

  Amber perused each case, anxiety growing in her belly when she didn’t find it.

  “Oh, that ring? The one with the nice markings?”