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

She hadn’t wanted to play that kind of music back then. Did she want to now?

Staring up at Cody, she honestly didn’t know.

And then the universe threw her a curveball because Dylan sat down at her table right next to her, facing Cody and the boys. He wasn’t wearing a bow tie today, probably because he’d taken it off. Otherwise he was dressed in his usual doctor uniform of khakis and oxford cloth button-down shirt. The top button was undone today though.

He looked good enough to kiss, but that wasn’t what she needed, even if she wanted to kiss him like never before.

*  *  *

Dylan stared into her big blue eyes, kind of lost. How had he ended up here at her table? He wasn’t sure. Only that the urge to move had overwhelmed him, just about the time he’d polished off his second bourbon and paid his bill.

He’d intended to walk away before she noticed him sitting in the corner. But his feet had carried him here. Maybe because he needed to tell her how he felt. Maybe because he needed to fight for her. Or something.

But he didn’t exactly know how to fight for her. Besides, the guy up onstage didn’t seem too happy to see him take a seat at Ella’s table. Was that the famous Cody?

The guy was a few pounds overweight and a little red in the face. Maybe he had high blood pressure and troublesome triglycerides. Maybe he’d have a heart attack at a young age from hard living. A longneck bottle sat beside him on the stage, as if to prove the point.

Of course he was only wishing for the guy’s early demise because he was handsome from a certain angle. In a dissipated, biker-boy way.

Damn. The jealousy flared a little hotter. What would happen if he got up and punched the dude in the mouth? What would happen if he leaned across the table and kissed Ella the way she’d kissed him that night she’d gotten toasted?

Nothing good. There were three other dudes in the band, all of them equally large and thoroughly tattooed. Besides, Declan O’Toole, Rafferty’s owner, was a friend.

Declan wouldn’t appreciate Dylan starting a brawl out here on the deck. And Dad would be furious too. Who wanted a family doctor who got drunk and took potshots at people?

Clearly he’d lost his mind. He should never have come over to her table.

“Why are you here?” she asked above the music. It was a simple question with no easy answer.

He had no clue what to say in order to change the situation. He wondered if he should tell her that he was like a magnet and she was his true north.

Nope. He wasn’t going to say something wimpy like that. That was the alcohol talking.

“Why are you?” he asked instead. The answer was obvious, but he wanted to hear it from her own mouth. She was going back to that guy up onstage.

Her shoulders tensed, confirming his worst fears. “I thought I’d come down and say hi, you know?” She looked up at the band and frowned at something, almost as if she didn’t like what they were playing. But maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe she was frowning because her ex was looking down at her with a thunderous expression.

“You know,” he said, leaning in, “I hate it when you lie.”

Her gaze snapped back. “You’ve been drinking.”

He shrugged. “Yeah. Tough day at the clinic.”

“I’m sorry.” Her eyes got that deep, concerned look in them that made everything feel better. He remembered the way she’d lifted his spirits the day Coreen Martel died. He could get used to that kind of care and attention, but he wasn’t about to admit that. To anyone. Least of all the woman he could never have.

“I’m a big boy,” he said. It was a lie. He felt like a child who wanted to be loved but was afraid to ask for attention.

“So, what? Are you planning to go back to Cody?” he asked, somewhat savagely.

Her gaze narrowed, like a laser pointer, aimed at his heart. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He knew a moment of hope.

“Look. I need to get on with my career, you know? And it’s not happening here in Magnolia Harbor. So I’m thinking about rejoining the band, after the wedding.”

He glanced up at the band, which was playing some god-awful tune that didn’t sound like country music to him. It was too loud, and he couldn’t understand the lyrics. But the kids on the deck were digging it, so who was he to judge.

Maybe he was too conservative for her. Maybe this was never going to work out no matter what. But the idea of Ella going off with that red-faced guy with the skull tattoo on his biceps left him cold.

“You could do so much better,” he said.

She frowned at him, a parody of her mother’s favorite expression. “And now you sound just like my mother.”

For once, Dylan could understand exactly how Brenda felt. If that was the guy Ella had run off with, he wouldn’t have approved either. He stood up and then leaned over the table, pressing his palms into the surface and getting right up into her face.

“Yeah, I guess I do sound like her. And since she’s not here, let me remind you that Cody was never faithful to you. Maybe he fooled you when you were a little girl in Muncie, Indiana. But you’re a full-grown woman now. Don’t forget that, Ella. Ever.”

*  *  *

Ella’s heart pounded in syncopated rhythm to the band’s drums as Dylan strode across the patio and down the steps to the boardwalk. He could have passed as one of the many well-heeled boat owners who called Magnolia Harbor their summer home. But she would never belong here the way he did.

Still, his parting words had warmed her heart in some wonderful, awful way. He thought she was a full-grown woman. The urge to follow him almost set