And Layne had told him to snap out of it. Did Heaven take him for a blundering idiot now?
A quick glance in her direction deflated his concern. Bright eyes gazed up through long lashes. Why was she chewing on her lip? Was he still making her nervous?
“Dylan McBride, I’d like you to meet my dearest friend in the world. Heaven Lewis.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Dylan.”
Oh, God.
His name sounded like magic as it passed over her lips. Did she practice the craft because he was under her spell, for sure? Yeah, that was it. She’d bewitched him.
“Same here.”
A short and simple reply. That’s all he could muster for fear of stumbling over his own words or acting like a big oaf. What he really wanted was to draw her into an embrace, to press his body into hers, and…
His eyes dropped to her hand, watching in awe as she extended it for a handshake. It took him a second before he curled his fingers around hers.
A spark flooded his body, tingling him from head to toe. Something was drawing them together, just as it had in the dream. The sweet smell of her perfume filled his nose, intoxicating his every thought. He continued to stare into her eyes, those hypnotic jewels he knew by heart.
Was she going to pull away?
For her sake, he hoped she would. His resolve continued to crumble each second their skin touched. The way her eyes kept flitting from his eyes to his mouth didn’t help. When she parted her lips, it hit him.
Sweet mint.
Good, God!
“Did I shock you?”
He was about to answer when he heard Layne whisper under his breath, “More than you know.” The words sparked amusement that his lips and cheeks couldn’t hide. Layne knew him too well.
Wait a second…Did she ask if she shocked him? That spark was real?
“No, I thought I shocked you.”
“I think it was my fault,” she said, as her eyes dropped to his lips, again. “I must have picked up static when I walked across the floor. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, unconsciously pulling her closer. When he realized what he was doing, he stopped, but she had already taken a small step toward him.
Could she feel it? The force that drew them together like opposite poles on a magnet. He could. Her energy wrapped around every cell in his body. Their chemistry swaddled him like an infant.
What he wouldn’t give to read her mind…
“Dylan’s your date for the wedding.”
Chelsea’s announcement was like a bucket of cold water.
Heaven pulled her hand away as Dylan released it. He didn’t want to. Every ounce of him wanted to wrap her in an embrace. Maybe it was the fear of losing her. Each time their closeness grew in the dreams, she would disappear.
How could he prevent the nightmare of losing her from becoming a reality? After waiting for months—scratch that—years to find her, would a weekend be his only reward? She’d leave after the wedding.
Unless he found a way to keep her here.
* * *
The longer Dylan stood there, the more Layne wanted to beat some sense into his best friend. He was staring at Heaven as if she were dessert. Although she did look good enough to eat.
Big dope.
So Dylan lacked his suave personality. Big deal. Dylan was an artist. He could put on a damned good show for a crowd of thousands. For hundreds of woman with big tits and lust in their eyes. Why couldn’t he give the performance of a lifetime for Heaven?
Yeah. She was beautiful.
Damned beautiful.
She was the kind of girl you wanted to—
“When were you going to introduce me?”
Layne whipped his head to the right.
Whoa.
Was this the other sister? The Fates were kind. And she did look like Heaven.
A lot.
There were definitely differences. She wore more make-up. Had a cute little mole on her cheek. And those eyes…
Her lips were fuller than Heaven’s. Maybe too full. Was there silicone in those babies? Botox? They were still very kissable. And God how they would feel wrapped around his—
“Yes, Faith. I was about to get you,” Chelsea shot back.
“Mmmhmm. I’m sure,” Faith taunted, folding her arms over her chest. She looked as though she were about to start round two of her bitch session when her eyes found Layne instead.
“Well, hello tall, blond, and handsome.”
Oh, yeah.
It was on.
“You must be Faith.”
“In the flesh,” she said, gliding her hands across her curves. “And you’re Layne Perry, the drummer for Sliders.”
“The last time I checked, yes.”
Was the rehearsal over yet, because his weekend plans just got a lot more interesting. Faith was a little vixen. He could see it in the way her eyes raked him up and down. The way she kept touching her hips every time his eyes left hers. Even the way she tossed her hair screamed “do me.”
Yeah, he knew all the signs. You don’t sleep with four chicks in one night by making the wrong assumption. A knack for reading women paid off when you were a million miles from home with a suitcase, drumsticks, and enough testosterone to put Viagra out of business. If only he could bottle it.
“Is this my date for the wedding, Chels?” Faith asked, though her eyes never moved from his face.
“How did you guess?” Chelsea retorted.
Was Chelsea being sarcastic?
Layne couldn’t peel his gaze from Faith to check. Not that he cared. Chelsea knew him well enough and she’d bragged once before about her matchmaking skills. After meeting Faith, he had to give Chelsea props for her gut instinct. Conquering Faith would be a quest. But God did he love this type of challenge.
“Seriously, Chels. You know I like having the sexiest man in the group.” Faith broke their staring competition to flash his friends a sympathetic look. “No offense, fellas.”
“Then we have something in common. I always get the most gorgeous girl,” Layne said, his voice huskier than usual.
Time to pour it on.
Although, what he said wasn’t exactly the truth. Faith was sexy as hell. But the most gorgeous of the group?
Nope.
Someone else had already won that title.
“I hope you don’t plan on showing my sister too good of a time.”
The third sister. Hope, wasn’t it? Yeah. Well, Layne hoped she didn’t have intentions on screwing up his plans. Scott would keep her entertained. Layne had no doubt about that. Especially with the look Scott was giving her.
Layne didn’t know who needed a date worse, Scott or Dylan. Probably Dylan. At least Scott had dated within the last six months.
“My intentions are honorable,” Layne replied, though he knew it was a lie. But Hope didn’t. Faith wouldn’t. Not if he was reading her like the open book she appeared to be.
He loved a good book.
“Yeah, well, I doubt my sister’s intentions are, so wear a condom. My parents will flip if she comes back home with your seed in her garden. Auntie Hope will come knocking on your door.”
Layne wanted to burst out laughing. These girls were a riot. He hadn’t experienced this much entertainment since their tour in Alabama a few years ago. Sebastian had provided the amusement that night.
If Faith’s eyes rolled any harder, they’d disappear into her brain. “What—ever,” she said, emphasizing the word as she turned back to Layne. “I’m so glad you could meet my mother, I mean my sister, Hope. She’ll be lucky if she ever gets a seed in her garden.”
“Okay, then,” Chelsea snapped. “Why don’t we get this rehearsal started before my mind’s filled with images it doesn’t want?”
“Or before I slap her silly,” Hope mumbled, walking away from the group.
Yep. This weekend would be a blast. It made the missed trip to the Caymans seem like an escape from getting the measles.
Thank God for sm
all favors.
If only he could get Dylan to quit acting like Dopey dwarf.
Yeah, that would take more than a weekend.
* * *
God! Was Layne full of it or what? Did he think anyone would buy his honorable intentions remark? Dylan knew better. So these girls were from out of town. It didn’t mean they were stupid. Or hadn’t heard a line laced with so much bullshit.
Dylan wanted to jot the remark down in the handbook for cheesy pickup lines. How in the heck did Layne get with so many women?
Honorable intentions, my ass. Hopefully, Faith is on the pill, or shot, or whatever women do to prevent pregnancy.
Layne…a father?
The thought made Dylan want to gag. He pitied the poor woman that bore his child. Then again, maybe a kid would settle Layne down. Highly unlikely, but Dylan could always hope.
On the other hand, Dylan wouldn’t mind having kids. Someday.
His eyes shot from Layne to Heaven. She’d make beautiful babies.
Okay, better not put the cart before the horse. He’d only known her, or rather, known she existed for less than thirty minutes. He needed to get to know the real her. Was she anything like the woman in his dreams?
He hoped.
Heaven’s gaze left Chelsea and landed on him. Her cheeks turned a rosy shade. Why was she blushing? Maybe he was staring too hard. Again.
Or maybe she felt the magnetic connection.
He needed to get a grip before she placed him in the same category as Layne. Rude, crude, and after one thing. Layne might be his best friend, but their thought processes were on opposite levels.
Maybe Heaven understood that. Faith’s personality mirrored Layne’s. Then again, Faith could be all talk and no action, but that wasn’t the impression she gave out. Body language said a lot. Faith’s begged for attention. Well, she would get plenty from Layne if sexual attention is what she craved. Dylan smelled disaster on the horizon.
Layne and Faith…a match made in hell.
Dylan moved past Chelsea and Heaven on his way to berate Layne for his behavior. Heaven’s sweet scent enveloped him. Could he take a deep breath without making himself look like some kind of weirdo? He already sensed Heaven’s eyes on him, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Maybe she was afraid he would brush against her as he passed. The way she cuddled her arms against her chest spoke shyness.
Modesty in a woman was a great quality in Dylan’s book. He’d had his fill of women who used their good looks as leverage. One-night stands didn’t interest him. Layne, yeah. But not him. Dylan played for keeps.
Of course, there would be sex. He’d make sure she never wanted another man. But not now. Sex could wait. Layne would flip at the notion.
Screw him.
Layne greeted him with creased brows. “Dude, you and I need to talk.”
“Yes, we do…about your mouth. I swear you’re going to end up like Sebastian. I really don’t feel like being involved in another shootout.”
Layne slapped his back as a deep chuckle rippled from his lungs. “Relax, bro. Chelsea said we had nothing to worry about. There are no jealous boyfriends or husbands.”
“No, but a disgruntled parent is worse.”
“Faith is of age. She can do whatever her sexy heart desires.”
Dylan leaned in closer to Layne’s ear. “So you’re ready for kids?”
Layne jerked his head away. “Yeah, right.”
“That’s what I thought. You better take necessary precautions before you have any fun this weekend.”
Dylan could tell Layne wanted to slam him with a sarcastic comment, but Chelsea cleared her throat to draw everyone’s attention.
“Sorry for the delay. I was looking for the CD with the wedding march on it, but I can’t find it anywhere.”
“You left it in the car,” Faith told her while glancing at her nails. “I saw it lying between the front seats.”
“Chels, I’ll go get it,” Heaven offered, as she wrapped her fingers around keys dangling from Chelsea’s purse. “You get everything set up in here. I’ll just be a minute.”
Dylan’s eyes followed Heaven until she disappeared through the side entrance. Modest and helpful. Did this woman have any faults?
She was meeting all his expectations. But would he meet hers?
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Layne’s attempt at discreet conversation was weak. He had drawn Scott’s attention their way.
“Take a wild guess,” Dylan whispered. His eyes wavered between the archway where Heaven had vanished and the rest of the bridal party.
“Are you certain she's the girl you’ve been dreaming of?”
At least Layne kept his voice down this time. Since Scott was the only other person who knew about Dylan’s dreams, Dylan wanted it kept that way.
“I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve spent the last several months dreaming about her. Oh, wait.”
“Cute…So why in the hell—” Layne stopped and chuckled. “Oops. Think I’ll get struck down for swearing in the middle of a church?”
Dylan shrugged. He’d almost enjoy seeing Layne get a little jolt from the sky.
“Why the heck are you dreaming about Chelsea’s best friend?”
“I don’t know, but I only have a couple of days to figure it out. Do you know how long they’re staying?”
“Not a clue,” Layne answered. “I’m guessing for the weekend?”
“That’s not enough time.”
“Sure, it is.”
Dylan met a teasing grin and waggling brows. “Some of us think with our other head.”
“Really?” Layne raised his hands in front of him. “Joking.”
He grew quiet again, which worried Dylan. A speechless Layne meant one thing. His sick, twisted mind was running wild like the bulls in Spain.
Shifting focus, Dylan’s eyes went back to the archway. Where was Heaven?
Dylan’s felt a twinge in his stomach. Something was off.
“Why are you still staring at the door? Are you that impatient to see her, again?”
“I’m just wondering what is taking her so long.”
“She hasn’t been gone that long.” Layne shook his head, pushing a few unruly strands of hair out of his eyes. “You got it bad, bro. But I think I understand why.”
“What do you mean?”
“Um, she’s smokin’ hot, dude. Duh.”
“I know.” Dylan shoved his hands in his back pockets. His fingers ran across the pick he’d used at the beach. He wished he had his guitar here now to help quiet his mind.
“Faith’s a whole lot of hotness wrapped up like a package of dynamite.”
Layne’s thoughts had shifted back to his favorite subject. Women.
“She’s definitely your type.”
Where was Heaven? God, why did his heart feel like it was about to jump from his chest?
“I don’t have a type.”
“You’re right. You’ll bed anything,” Dylan continued, his eyes rapidly flipping between the side door, the front door, Chelsea’s face…What was taking so long?
“Not true, dude. I have standards.”
“Your standards exist about as much as your honorable intentions.”
Dylan glanced at his wrist. Something definitely wasn’t right. He couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Harsh, Dylan. Harsh. You wound me.”
“You’ll survive.”
Another glance at the doors brought no relief. How long did it take to find a CD?
“Would you stop fidgeting? You’re like a crackhead jonesing for his next fix.”
Dylan was waiting for his next fix. Of Heaven.
“Maybe I should go look for—”
“Where is my sister?” Faith’s words filled the sanctuary. “Does she need a map or what?”
“Maybe the CD wasn’t in the car after all,” Chelsea said as she turned toward the side door. “I should go help her.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll go help,” Dylan announced. A little too eagerly. “That is, if you want me to.”
His good gesture raised a few eyebrows and drew the attention of everyone in the room, especially Faith’s.
Chelsea’s eyes made it to every face in the room before stopping on Dylan’s. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
He waited for the approving nod.
“Thanks, Dylan. I’ll get everyone else in place.”
Dylan didn’t stick around for the objection he noticed on Layne’s lips. He left the bridal party in his dust as he hurried out the side door.
The minute he stepped outside the church, he noticed the sun dipping into the horizon. A breeze blew from the west, calming his nerves, but that feeling left when one of blood pumping confusion replaced it.
This new feeling ripped through his body, pulling him in the direction of the parking lot.
Heaven.
His muscles struggled to keep up with his racing mind as he pushed his body to the limit.
Voices buzzed inside his head. The closer he came to the parking lot, the more he heard them.
When he passed the corner of the church, his heart lurched from his chest.
The business suits and flashing cameras had formed a circle around Chelsea’s car.
And right smack in the middle of all their attention stood Heaven.
Eyes wide and glassy.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 8
Heaven squinted toward the crowd of reporters quickly swallowing her. Their shouts, along with the wall of flashing cameras, had her heart pumping. There had never been this many people in her face, asking so many questions at the same time.
Her eyes burned with each flash. She focused on the ground, praying this mob wouldn’t eat her alive. She couldn’t think, speak, or even pass out. Passing out would have been a blessing at this point.
The paparazzi.
She’d always heard how brutal they could be. How relentless. She was trapped like a caged animal with its tormentors just a foot away, poking sticks into the cage.
Spinning in a circle, Heaven tried to find a breach in the crowd for an escape. It was useless. Each time she thought she found a break in their human wall, a dozen flashes zapped her like stun guns. Her fear became her prison cell.