Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

Whitney stood in the back of the pavilion with Taylor. The bride’s silky white dress flowed smoothly over her protruding belly and stopped short of her sparkling sandals. Whitney wore the salmon colored strapless dress Taylor chose from the bridal store in Boston. The silk shantung flowed to her knees, stopping there and exposing her shapely calves.

When the hired quintet from the hotel began Mendelssohn’s bridal march, Whitney stepped forward slowly. Taylor’s fiancé waited next to the minister with his best friend. Guests occupied the three dozen rented white chairs decorated with elegant salmon ribbon bows.

Whitney knew more than half of the invited guests because of her long friendship with Taylor. But there was one invited guest in particular she hoped to see. Her eyes scanned the rows of chairs as she smiled and tried to look straight ahead while walking slowly and holding her maid of honor bouquet. When she got to her place by the minister, she temporarily halted her scanning of the guests. All she wanted to see was her best friend, radiant, stepping slowly down the aisle.

The white lights of the pavilion twinkled in the early evening twilight. The fresh white paint of the newly repaired pavilion gleamed in the glow of the lights that were Chris’ idea and his doing. Whitney looked up at the lights, her eyes filled with tears, then back at Taylor as she completed her walk down the aisle. It was magical, just as she had hoped it would be.

There had been many days in the past two weeks where she feared this wedding would be ruined by Hurricane Destiny. Now, it seemed, Destiny had something in mind for her as well. But she had no idea where it was leading her. Taylor handed her the bridal bouquet and took both of her fiancé’s hands in hers. They all turned toward the center to hear the minister speak the familiar words.

When Whitney turned slightly to direct her attention to the vows, she saw him. Seated in the third row back, clear on the outside of the pavilion. Perhaps he didn’t feel comfortable crowding toward the center when he hardly knew Taylor. But he had come. Whitney had known he would.

His eyes were on her. She met his gaze and caught the unspoken acknowledgement as his eyes dropped to her necklace and then raised to her eyes again. He nodded slightly. She smiled broadly. No one would mind. Smiles at her best friend’s wedding were exactly what people expected to see.

She had done it. The pavilion and gazebo and everything else at East Pointe were perfect. As a maid of honor, she had come through.

In addition to celebrating that success, she had something to look forward to at the reception. She hardly finished her ceremonial walk down the aisle after the bride when she saw Chris heading straight for her. He wore a black suit fitting his broad shoulders perfectly. His smooth shaven face showed off his happy grin and his blond curls were tamed to perfection.

He stopped only inches from her, his magnetism almost indecent with so many people around. Fortunately, they were all busy rushing to congratulate the bride and groom or queuing up at the food tables. The quintet struck up a lighter piece of classical music and the sounds wafted over the manicured lawn.

“You wore it,” he said.

“How could I resist?”

“The jeweler told me it was the one you tried on.”

“So that was you. I thought I caught a glimpse of your reflection, but then you were gone.”

Chris picked up her hand and raised it to his lips. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

Whitney smiled and stepped a little closer, resting her free hand on the lapel of his coat. “It was right after that that I discovered the clue that explained Chris Maxwell to me. Or should I call you Robin Hood?”

“Not in this crowd,” he said in a mock whisper. “That wouldn’t be too popular with the aristocracy here.”

She looked at him curiously. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Tell you?”

“That you used the insurance check to help dozens of other people instead of fixing up the play lands of the rich?”

“Would you have understood?”

“Understood?” she asked. “Yes. But, it wouldn’t have changed anything. I still needed this work to get done, and you still did something that was—”

“Criminal?”

Whitney put a finger over his lips. “Forget all those things I said. I know the truth now about you. But I still wonder one thing.”

“Ask anything,” he said.

“Why? Why do you feel so compelled to help others even at risk to your own business?”

Chris looked seriously down at her and hesitated. “Do you remember what I said about my Dad always being driven by the bottom line?”

“Yes,” she said, understanding coming over her.

“I don’t want to be like that. We didn’t see eye to eye on the profit margins, and I thought it was best if I went my own way.”

“You went pretty far,” she said.

Chris nodded. “I love it here,” he said seriously, and then he grinned and kissed her on the lips. “Besides, I was tired of snow.”

“I don’t miss that a bit,” she said.

“Speaking of which…”

“Yes?” she asked.

“I was talking to Mr. East about your business in Boston.”

“Really? You were discussing my business?”

“We have testosterone. It’s our job to want to solve problems.”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “So, I’m curious, did you decide whether I should gamble the future of my company by borrowing money to buy a chunk of land? Should I take the giant leap of building my own apparel manufacturing facility?”

“Yep.”

“Yep? As in, yep you decided what I should do about all of that?”

Chris grabbed two glasses of champagne from a strolling waiter and handed her one. “We think you should build the factory and dive in.”

“Oh,” Whitney said. Going back to gray Boston where the lease was up on her ex-boyfriend’s apartment and burying herself in work might have sounded like a decent idea a few days ago, but now the warm breeze on her skin and the incredible freedom and happiness she found right here made it the last thing on earth she wanted to do.

“You don’t sound happy about it,” Chris said. He grinned at her and leaned in close, brushing his lips over hers. He tasted like champagne and that wasn’t the only intoxicating thing about the kiss. “Perhaps you should hear out the rest of the plan.”

“By all means, what did your testosterone figure out?”

“You want affordable land for one thing, especially land that comes with tax breaks for creating jobs.”

“Of course, but that’s hard to come by anywhere near Boston.”

“You’d want a workforce of reliable people. Good weather helps, too.”

Whitney started to think there was some creativity at work here. “Are you suggesting—”

“And, of course, you’d want a reliable builder. Someone you already have a relationship with.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ve built a business here. I’ve found a home here. I’m just missing one thing.”

“I’m missing one thing, too,” she said slowly. This was incredible. Could she move here, build a business here, leave her old life behind? Perhaps the real question would be…could she have it any other way? Could she stand to leave this island and leave Chris?

He watched her intently. “Will you stay?”

Would she? Could she? Kelly could manage the business in Boston. She could run the facility here. She would still see Taylor’s family when they came to this home. And Chris was here.

“I think…I think I have to stay,” she said slowly and raised her eyes seriously to his face. “I can’t give up Mavis’s chicken.”

Chris pulled her close and kissed her. This kiss held all the tension and desire of their previous ones, but something more, too.

It held long days working together on storm damage.

It held sunshine, sand, and water.

It held shared meals and stories.

It was possessive, suggesting more to come.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said in a husky whisper.

Whitney pulled back slightly. “Can’t,” she said. “Maid of honor duties.”

“How long?” he said.

She slipped her hands under his coat and ran her fingers over the smooth white shirt beneath. She brushed her fingers over his hard chest muscles. “Two hours, tops,” she said. “Dinner, a short speech, cut the cake, some dancing, and then we’re free.”

“Won’t Taylor miss you if we slip out of here later?”

Whitney glanced over to Taylor and Jackson holding hands and talking with guests under the twinkling white lights. She looked radiant and happy. Whitney knew her old friend wouldn’t begrudge her some happiness for herself.

“No,” Whitney said, “I think she’ll get along fine without me tonight. But I did promise to tell her our whole story one of these days.”

“Well, then,” Chris said, taking her arm and leading her toward the edge of the lawn. “It all started about two weeks ago. I was at the airport when I noticed the most beautiful girl I had ever seen trapped in a revolving door with an enormous red suitcase.”

Whitney punched him on the arm. “Better just skip to the part where we live happily ever after,” she said.

They walked through the lighted pavilion now deserted by the other guests in favor of the food and drink tables. He pulled her close under the twinkling lights and kissed her and suddenly took one step back. Whitney hardly had time to react before she realized he was down on one knee in front of her.

“I love you, Whitney.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

“Will you live happily ever after with me?” he asked.

She could hardly breathe. Maybe it was the warm tropical air, the excitement of the beautiful wedding, the lights. No, she knew what it was.

“Yes,” she said. He stood and crushed her into a powerful embrace.

“Do you think they rent this place out for weddings?” he asked.

“I think you might have to know the owners,” she whispered, emotion rushing through her voice.

Whitney looked into Chris’ eyes, the white lights reflecting in the blue like the sun on the waves. She felt a rush of heat and love as he pulled her close and kissed her with such abandon that several guests noticed and started clinking their spoons on glasses.

“Then I think I’d better get busy making friends with them,” he said.

 

THE END