A Wedding on Lilac Lane Hope Ramsay (general ebook reader TXT) 📖

be annoyed about the young woman who had tripped and fallen or relieved that the accident had prevented him from getting caught with his pants down…literally.

As it turned out, the passenger’s scalp wound was superficial, and there were no signs of a concussion. So he doctored her with the medical kit on board and suggested that she contact her GP in the morning if she had any further symptoms.

He got a round of applause for this minor medical non-miracle. It seemed kind of stupid to be applauded for applying a Band-Aid to someone’s forehead when Coreen Martel had needed so much more from him. Why was the woman’s demise weighing so heavily on him?

He didn’t know. In medical school, they had taught him to remain detached, and he’d thought he’d managed that. Except that Dad was always telling him to care more. Because Dad cared. Dad had cared enough to let Coreen stay at home and be independent even though, strictly speaking, that hadn’t been the best medical advice.

There was more to being a country doctor than what they’d taught him in med school. And he was only starting to learn the truth.

The yacht made it back to dock without further mishap, and Dylan found himself below decks discussing its availability for the engagement party. He allowed himself to be distracted from his sadness and the tug of longing he felt every time Ella turned her big eyes in his direction.

He wanted to take her home because he didn’t want to be alone tonight in the big house he’d once shared with Dad. In fact, the loneliness of his future life weighed on him. He didn’t want to end up like Coreen.

He pushed the negative thoughts from his head as they discussed possible sailing dates with Jude St. Pierre. They didn’t have many choices, and they’d still be up a creek if the weather didn’t cooperate. But they booked the yacht for April twenty-second. Just two weeks away.

“So…” Ella said in a bright, happy voice as they left the yacht and headed down the long pier to the parking lot. “We need to check out caterers right away. We might have trouble booking one.”

“I’ll call around and make some appointments,” he muttered. Talking about catering was the last thing on his mind. What he wanted was to finish the kiss they’d started in the stateroom. But maybe that was a bad idea. Maybe he should disengage.

After all, their parents were getting married. With the yacht booked for the party, the reality settled in. Dad was never coming back to the house. Ella was just a momentary lapse of judgment. His future seemed to open up in front of him like a big, dark, lonely thing.

“We should have a chocolate fountain,” she said. “You know, with strawberries. Mom loves chocolate-covered strawberries.”

She was oblivious to his pain, and her excitement about the party left him sour. “A chocolate fountain on a yacht? Are you crazy?” he said.

She turned as they walked down the pier. “Oh my god. You are such a stick in the mud sometimes. You know that?”

“Do you want to come back to my place?” he asked abruptly. He didn’t want to talk about catering and chocolate fountains or champagne or any of that. He just wanted to finish the kiss. He just wanted company tonight.

She stopped dead in her tracks and hugged herself against the freshening breeze, which had turned chilly now that the sun had set. Was she cold or uncertain? He couldn’t quite tell, so he took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “I told you to dress appropriately,” he said gently, resting his hands on her tiny shoulders.

“What?”

“In my message. Didn’t I?”

She threw back her head and laughed. He had no idea what was so funny, but suddenly he was laughing too. Not just a little chuckle or a giggle, but a big, fat belly laugh that had tears streaming from his eyes. The laugh eased something that had seized up in him this morning when the fire department had delivered the news about Coreen Martel.

When he finally caught his breath, he managed to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“I thought you wanted me to dress appropriately.”

“Well, I did. I looked at the weather forecast and…” His voice faded out, stilled by the look on her face. Her beautiful mouth had tipped up in a winning smile, and her big eyes danced with merriment.

“Right. And since you didn’t say one word about the weather, I interpreted your request to mean that you wanted me to, you know, dress conservative and boring. I thought either you were embarrassed by me or maybe you wanted me to wear something that wasn’t sexy.” She reached up and pulled the end of his bow tie, untying the knot.

“Really? That’s what you thought? Damn, Ella. I’m not sure I could stop wanting you even if you dressed in a gunnysack. And I do hate the dress.”

“Even though it’s got polka dots? We would have matched if you’d worn your navy tie.”

“You are not a polka dot kind of person, and I’m okay with that. I like you the way you are.”

She blinked. “Really? I didn’t think so at first.”

“Well, okay. I need to apologize for judging you when I first met you. I was wrong about it all.” He stepped a little closer. “What I want,” he said in a near whisper, “is to get you out of that dress.”

“I’m trying so hard to be good,” she whispered.

“I know. I am too. But I still want you to come home with me.” He cupped her head and kissed her. She tasted like spring flowers or something growing from deep, dark earth. Elemental. Perfect. He didn’t want it to end, so it lasted for a long time until someone said, “Y’all need to get a room.”

They jumped back as a sixty-something tourist in a loud Hawaiian shirt passed them on the way to one of the houseboats docked up the pier.

“Oh