Wind Chime Wedding (A Wind Chime Novel Book 2) Page 5

  Becca’s insides twisted…for a different reason this time.

  Tugging her heel free, she smoothed her hands down the front of her dress, trying to regain her composure. But when she glanced back up, and caught his heated gaze following the path of her hands, every muscle in her body contracted.

  His eyes were so intense. So blue.

  His gaze lifted back to her face, and she braced herself for another comment about the shoes.

  Wearing them had definitely been a mistake.

  But he didn’t say anything about her shoes. He just stood there, close enough so she could smell the soap on his skin and something else—something strong and masculine and uniquely Colin—and continued to study her.

  “Did you do something different to your hair?” he asked.

  “What?” she stammered, pushing at the curtain of brown hair that fell to her shoulders.

  “It looks different.” He reached up, touching the ends. “Longer.”

  Her mouth went dry when his fingers grazed her collarbone. He was right. It was longer, probably because she’d spent an hour flat ironing it before she’d left the house tonight. She couldn’t believe he’d noticed. Men never noticed things like that.

  “I like it,” he murmured.

  A traitorous curl of attraction took root inside her. It started low in her belly, coiling and spiraling as it spread. She remembered something that Will had told her once, that Colin had been one of the best snipers on the SEAL teams before his career had been cut short. He would have to possess an incredible attention to detail to have earned that kind of reputation. And it probably wasn’t something he could turn on and off at whim.

  But she wasn’t sure how she felt about that attention being focused on her.

  Taking a step back, she gathered her hair into a hasty ponytail at the back of her neck and searched for something—anything—to talk about that would make him stop looking at her like that. “You have an apartment downtown, right?” she managed finally, forcing the words out.

  He nodded.

  “That must be nice.” She gazed past him at the historic streets that spiraled out from the harbor, focusing on the colorful potted plants that graced many of the brick stoops to avoid meeting his eyes. “To be so close to everything.”

  “It is.”

  “Are you going to hold onto it so you have a place to stay when you come up to Annapolis?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” He continued to watch her for several more moments before finally nodding for her to walk with him toward the strip of restaurants along the north side of the harbor. “I’ll be spending most of my time on the island so I don’t know if it makes sense to keep it.”

  As soon as his attention was focused elsewhere, she released her hair and fell into step beside him. “You’re renting the Murphy’s old place, right? The one by the marina?”

  “Temporarily.” He steered her around a group of teenagers attempting a series of tricks on their skateboards. “I’m still looking for the right place to buy.”

  She looked up at him, surprised. “You’re thinking of buying?”

  He nodded, pausing at the edge of the curb, waiting for a few cars to pass.

  “I didn’t realize you were planning to stay that long.”

  Now it was his turn to look surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “I thought you were just moving to the island to help Will get the business started.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I thought the inn would be more of a stepping stone for you—the first of many projects you’d start for veterans.”

  He seemed to ponder that as they started across the street.

  “How long are you planning to stay?” she asked.

  “For good.”

  Becca’s brows shot up. “You want to move to the island for good?”

  “Yes.” He laughed, pausing again when they reached the opposite curb. “Why is that so shocking?”

  “Because…”

  “Because…what?”

  “Because…people like you don’t move to Heron Island.”

  “People like me?”

  Becca watched the wind blow a lock of black hair into his eyes and she fought the urge to reach up and brush it aside. “We don’t get a lot of people who are”—young, single, attractive—“unattached moving to Heron Island.”

  “Ryan’s unattached.”

  That was true, Becca thought. Ryan Callahan, one of her best friends from childhood, had recently moved back to the island to open an environmental center. But Ryan was an anomaly. And he was from the island. That was different. “Ryan grew up on Heron Island. It’s his home.”

  “Annie moved there and she was unattached.”

  Becca bit her lip. That was true, too. But Annie’s circumstances had been so unique. She’d needed a place to escape to, a place for her daughter to heal. “Annie was trying to get away from something.”

  “So what are you saying?” Colin asked. “Unless you’re attached, originally from there, or trying to get away from something, you can’t move to Heron Island?”

  “No. It’s just…unusual.”

  “But not unheard of?”

  “No, I guess not.” She blew out a breath. “I didn’t realize you liked it there so much.”

  “I love it there.”

  Becca’s heart flooded with a rush of warmth. He loved it there? Enough to spend the rest of his life there?

  “Is that why you’re marrying a guy who lives in D.C.?” Colin asked. “Because there aren’t enough single men to choose from on the island?”

  “What?” Becca froze, stunned by the bluntness of his question. “No. I… Tom and I have been together forever.”

  “So it’s comfort? Familiarity?”

  “N-no,” Becca stammered. “Of course not. We love each other.”

  “Do you want to move to D.C.?”

  Becca stared at him. Yes was the obvious answer. Yes was the answer she gave to everyone else. But when she opened her mouth, the word caught in her throat and a bubble of panic welled up inside her.

  There had to be a part of her, at least a small part, that was looking forward to moving to D.C. She wanted to live with Tom. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. She was in love with him. “It’s going to be an adjustment,” she admitted finally, lifting her chin, “but I think it’ll be good for me.”

  “How?”

  “I’ve never lived in a city,” she said, falling back on one of the arguments Tom always made when she voiced her own fears. “Everyone should live in a city at least once in their life.”

  “Cities are overrated.”

  Frustrated, because he was echoing all her own thoughts, she turned and started walking toward the restaurant. She was getting married in three weeks. She was getting married to a man she had met in high school, who she had known almost her entire life. They were going to start a family. They were going to live happily ever after. That was the end of the discussion.

  “What neighborhood does your fiancé live in?” Colin asked, his long strides catching up to her easily.

  She noticed that he didn’t use Tom’s actual name. For some reason, that pissed her off. “He has an apartment in Woodley Park, but he wants to buy a house in Georgetown.”

  “He?”

  “We,” she corrected quickly, squeezing her eyes shut. “I meant, we.”

  Colin reached for the door handle when they got to the restaurant. “Georgetown’s a pricey neighborhood.”

  Yes, Becca thought. It was very pricey. And it would mean that she would have to let go of her home on the island—a topic she and Tom had had several long discussions about recently.

  Tom wanted a place where he could entertain clients and host dinner parties on the weekends, a place that would impress the other partners at his firm.

  All she wanted was a place in the country to escape to.

  The rent in Woodley Park was high, but nowhe
re near as high as Georgetown. If they kept the apartment Tom lived in now, they could afford to swing both his rent and her small mortgage payment on their joint incomes.

  Colin held the door open for her, and she walked inside.

  The scent of lemons and horseradish pulled her into a large dining room filled with at least two hundred people. Laughter and conversations swirled through the air and several waiters in white shirts and black pants circulated with trays of canapés and refreshments.

  Several people glanced their way. A group of middle-aged men in khaki pants and sport coats nodded their greeting to Colin. An elderly man wearing a Vietnam Veteran ball cap lifted his beer in a silent salute. Two younger men in polo shirts peeled off from their groups in mid-conversation and headed their way.

  Becca felt a sudden sucking sensation, like she was about to be swallowed whole. Resisting the urge to flee, she looked over at the bar, where a cluster of women in their mid-thirties stood with their heads bent together, each of them giving her a dirty look.

  Three hours, she thought, squaring her shoulders. Three hours and she’d be back in her car, alone, where she’d have plenty of time to think about why she didn’t have better answers to Colin’s questions, why her body felt like it was on fire when he touched her, and why it had never felt that way when Tom touched her.

  Until then, she needed to make sure it didn’t happen again.

  Colin watched Becca’s whole body stiffen as she took in the scene before them. He didn’t blame her. He’d grown up in this world. He should have been used to it by now.

  He wasn’t.

  Part of the reason he’d joined the military was to get away from all this.

  He would rather take a dull saw to his good leg than suffer through another evening filled with mind-numbing cocktail party chitchat. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to support his father. He liked his father. He respected his father.

  In the past four years as governor, his father had done some good things for the state and a lot of good things for veterans, despite his own public objections to the wars. But no matter how decent the man behind the name on the ticket was, there was always a certain amount of pandering, posturing, and saying whatever the public needed to hear to get the vote.

  In the end, everything in politics came down to winning.

  When he spotted the two men heading toward them, heirs to the largest casino chain in Maryland, he moved closer to Becca. They thought that since their father had made a sizeable donation to the veterans’ center they deserved something in return. He knew the names of every single person in this room, and what each one hoped to gain in return for their support. It was only a matter of time before more people spotted him and they were swarmed.

  Feeling an unexpected surge of protectiveness, he placed his hand on the small of Becca’s back. She flinched at the contact and immediately shifted two steps to the right. Interesting, he thought, letting his hand drop back to his side. So he wasn’t the only one who felt something when he touched her.

  It had caught him off guard when he’d grabbed her arm out on the street earlier to keep her from falling. He’d liked the way her skin had felt in his hands—soft, warm, and feminine. He’d liked the way she’d smelled, like honeysuckle and vanilla. And he’d liked the way her pupils had dilated slightly, making her brown eyes appear darker and more mysterious.

  What he did not like was the way she’d answered his questions about her fiancé.

  After what Annie had told him two days ago, he’d begun to recall a few passing comments that some of the other islanders had made about Tom over the winter. Once he’d taken the time to think about it, he’d remembered that even Ryan Callahan had gone uncharacteristically quiet whenever Tom’s name had been mentioned. Ryan was one of the most easygoing people Colin had ever met. If Ryan had a problem with Becca’s fiancé, there had to be something wrong with the guy.

  Which left him with one question: if none of her friends liked him, why was Becca marrying him?

  “Colin.” His stepmother swept through the crowd, her blond hair pulled back in a sophisticated knot, a pair of diamond studs winking at her ears. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She lifted up onto her toes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Your father’s running late and there’s a man at the bar who wants to talk to him about funding for the new medical center in Calvert County.”

  “I can talk to him. What’s his name?”

  “Don O’Brien.”

  He turned back to Becca. “Want to head up to the bar with me? Grab a drink before my father gets here?”

  “Sure.” She looked hesitantly at his stepmother.

  Right, Colin thought, not everyone was used to meeting the First Lady of Maryland. “Becca, this is my stepmother, Natalie Foley. Natalie, this is Becca Haddaway.”

  Becca smiled shyly, offering her hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Foley.”

  Natalie Foley was rarely caught off guard. After a lifetime of working the same political scene—first as the daughter of a judge, then as the communications director for a long standing Maryland senator, and now married to his father—she was always at least two steps ahead of every other person in the room when it came to who was who.

  But Becca wasn’t part of their usual circle of acquaintances.

  The startled, and unexpectedly pleased, expression that crossed Natalie’s face made Colin pause. He had brought Becca tonight so she could talk to his father about the school and so he could get a night off from his stepmother’s relentless matchmaking attempts, but he hadn’t considered how Natalie might react to her.

  Even in three inch heels and a dress that hugged and flattered in all the right places, Becca still oozed girl next door sweetness. She wore very little makeup and almost no jewelry, except for the single gold charm that hung around her neck. She looked nothing like any of the women Colin had ever brought to one of his father’s campaign events.

  Natalie recovered quickly, taking Becca’s hand, but there was no mistaking the spark of curiosity in her green eyes. “Please, call me Natalie.”

  “Becca’s a teacher on the island,” Colin explained. “She’s hoping to talk to Dad about some of the challenges her district is going to face in the upcoming budget environment.”

  “Oh?” Natalie said, surprised. Most of the women he brought only had one goal—to be seen with him as much as possible. “I didn’t realize…”

  “I’d like to introduce them when he gets here,” Colin said. “Would you tell him to come find us when he arrives?”

  “Of course,” Natalie said, looking back and forth between them. “But there’s no need to rush off.”

  Actually, there was, Colin thought. It wouldn’t take long for his stepmother to notice Becca’s engagement ring and he was hoping to put her off at least until they sat down to dinner. As soon as Natalie realized Becca wasn’t a potential match for him, she would start scanning the room to find someone else she could introduce him to. “Becca just got out of the car from a long drive. She could probably use something to drink.”

  Natalie simply lifted her hand and a waiter appeared out of nowhere carrying a tray filled with over a dozen glasses of white wine. She smiled as she plucked a glass off the tray and handed it to Becca. “Here you go, dear.”

  “Thanks,” Becca said, smiling back at her. “I really enjoyed the speech you made at the charter school in Frederick last week, the one on bullying awareness and prevention.”

  Natalie paused, her wine glass halfway to her lips. “Were you there?”

  “No.” Becca shook her head. “I saw the clip on the news later that night. All of us, at least all the teachers I work with, are grateful that you’re putting a spotlight on such an important subject. The more people who are aware of what’s going on, the better our chances are of figuring out how to deal with it.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Natalie glanced back up at Colin. The spark of curiosity had bloomed into full-fledged admiration.


  Colin stifled a groan.

  None of the women he’d ever brought to a campaign event had bothered to ask his stepmother anything about her political initiatives. They were much more interested in complimenting her designer clothes and gossiping about mutual acquaintances.

  He knew how seriously Natalie took her role as First Lady. Becca had just scored major points.

  “Colin,” Natalie suggested, “why don’t you head up to the bar on your own? I’m happy to keep Becca company while you talk to Don.” She smiled warmly at Becca, her expression a little too eager. “I’m sure we’ll find all kinds of things to talk about.”

  “Natalie,” Colin warned.

  “What?” Natalie glanced back up at him innocently. “I just want to find out how the two of you met.”

  “How we met?” Becca asked, confused.

  Colin sighed. So much for getting the night off. He should have known Natalie wouldn’t waste any time pouncing on the mystery woman he’d brought. He might as well put a stop to the charade before his stepmother got her hopes up any higher. “Becca and I met last fall on my first trip down to Heron Island. I invited her tonight so she could talk to Dad about her school. We’re friends, Natalie. That’s all.”

  Natalie blinked. “Friends?”

  “Just friends.”

  “Well,” Natalie said, undeterred, “your father and I were friends for years before…”

  Colin reached for Becca’s left hand, lifting it up so his stepmother could see her engagement ring.

  Natalie trailed off, staring down at the tear-shaped diamond. “You’re…engaged.”

  Becca nodded, confusion clouding her eyes as she looked back and forth between them. “I’m getting married in a few weeks…at the inn where Colin’s opening the veterans’ center.”

  “Oh.”

  Natalie looked so crestfallen, Colin couldn’t help feeling a prick of guilt. He knew his stepmother meant well. She might have only been married to his father for the past three years, but she’d been more of a mother to him than his own ever had.

  Natalie was the one who had come to sit with him every day when he’d been recovering at Walter Reed last year. Natalie was the one who had cared for him when he’d been discharged from the hospital and he’d spent the first few weeks stumbling around the house on his new prosthesis, ready to take out his anger on anyone who came near him.