Honeysuckle Dreams Page 10

  Her smile fell. “Sunrise? As in the hour when the sun comes up?”

  “That would be the one.”

  “You’re going to kill me this weekend, aren’t you?”

  He gave her a look. “You said you loved to hike.”

  “In theory. I like to walk . . . I like pretty views.”

  “Well, you’re going to get plenty of both.”

  “Um, are there going to be spiders?”

  “What? In the woods? In the mountains? Of course not.”

  He ignored her adorable whimper as he walked over and made sure the firebox was well covered. The flames were already low and would extinguish themselves soon. He hefted their bags and started up the stairs.

  Hope followed behind him, soon forgetting the hiking as she began oohing and aahing over the knobby railings and the hand-stitched quilt hanging against the wall.

  He stopped at the first door at the top of the stairs and ushered her in. “Madame, your room.”

  She stepped inside, taking in the generously sized master suite, tastefully decorated in neutral tones. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

  He set her suitcase just inside the door as his gaze swept over the huge rug that hugged the wood floor and the king-size bed that dominated the room. It was so high that, even with those long legs of hers, she’d almost need a stepladder to crawl into it.

  She wandered over to the adjoining bathroom, which he knew featured a large garden tub and a walk-in shower. “Wow.” She disappeared inside the room. “I’m used to water stains and a clingy shower curtain, you know. This is quite the step up.”

  When she returned, she stopped on the bathroom’s threshold. “So . . .” She leaned against the wooden jam with an enigmatic look. “We never really talked about, uh, sleeping arrangements . . .”

  He cleared his throat and nodded his head toward the hall. “I’ll be right across the hall. I have my own bathroom too.”

  Her eyebrows hiked up below her sideswept bangs. Her hair was still in that messy, sexy updo, exposing her graceful neck. He wondered what she’d do if he pressed a kiss to the tempting spot between her neck and shoulder.

  “Are you sure? I mean . . . It’s a big bed. I might not even know you’re there.”

  “When I share a bed with you, wife, I most definitely want you to know I’m there.”

  Surprise flickered in her eyes before she gave him a most sexy smile. “Well said.”

  “I’m courting you, remember? Maybe it’s been a while, but I wasn’t in the habit of sharing a bed with my dates.”

  She cocked her head. “Well, you weren’t exactly married at the time either.”

  He smirked. “Sorry, Mrs. Collins. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to wait.”

  Her laughter floated like a melody as he turned to leave the room.

  “Waiting for me to beg? Like I had to beg for that kiss today?” she taunted.

  “That was an order from an ordained minister,” he said over his shoulder. “It was strictly obligatory.”

  “It sure didn’t feel obligatory.”

  He paused in the hallway, his lips curling at the sass in her voice. “Careful, sweetheart. I might start thinking you enjoyed it.”

  In the beat of silence he could count the ticks of the mantel clock, hear a quiet series of snaps from the fire below. Where was the saucy laugh? The snappy comeback?

  “You got nothing, Collins?” he asked. Something warm engulfed him as he used her married name. His name.

  “Good night, husband,” she called in a singsongy voice.

  He could picture the indignant thrust of her chin that probably accompanied that tone. “Good night, wife.” His smile widened as he set his feet in motion. “Don’t forget to set your alarm for six o’clock.”

  She groaned, and he heard the unmistakable whoosh of a body falling onto a mattress.

  He chuckled. And he was still smiling minutes later when he drifted off to sleep.

  chapter fourteen

  When they finally reached the peak of Mount Torture, Hope was a wreck. She’d hit snooze when her alarm went off and had to choose between a shower and coffee. She’d chosen poorly. So poorly.

  She blamed lack of caffeine for the fact that her legs wobbled and her eyeballs hurt, and also that she was about to die.

  She stopped a few feet behind Brady, placing her hands on her knees. “I’m equally in need of caffeine and water. And oxygen. The air’s thinner up here, huh? It’s like I’m breathing, but there’s no oxygen.” She sucked in four quick breaths. “I think I’m hyperventilating.”

  Even in the predawn dimness she could see his droll look.

  “We’re barely at three thousand feet, Hope.”

  “So I’m out of shape, is that what you’re saying?”

  He put his palms up. “Hey, I may be a rookie husband, but I’m not stupid. Besides . . .” His gaze raked over her, from her messy ponytail to her hip-length T-shirt to the tight yoga pants, and northward again. “Your shape looks pretty good from over here.”

  Her lips tugged upward in a smug smile; she suddenly felt much better. “You catch on quick, Collins.”

  He slid the backpack from his shoulders and set it on a boulder that was large enough to seat twelve. “Come sit down.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

  As Brady unzipped the backpack, Hope surveyed the view while she caught her breath. A valley opened before them, immense, she assumed from the magnitude of the climb she’d just endured.

  Across the valley the dark mountains shielded the sun. But a golden orange glow swept low across the sky, heralding the eminent sunrise. The colors faded upward into light blue, then into the inky darkness that the sun would soon push back. In a few minutes it would be a stunning panorama.

  She drew in a lungful of fresh mountain air, catching the scent of pine and loamy earth. Somewhere nearby a bird chirped good morning, and a cool breeze rustled the canopy of leaves.

  “Here you go.” Brady handed her a Thermos mug, filled with precious coffee.

  Praise Jesus. “I love you,” she said heartily, then took a careful sip.

  “My plan is working already.” He settled on the rock next to her, balancing his own cup.

  “And just what plan is that?”

  “Always leave them wanting more, baby.”

  She laughed. That he could make her laugh, uncaffeinated, at o’dark hundred said a lot.

  A glowing sliver of orange peeked through a break between two mountains. “Look. Here it comes.”

  As if by agreement they watched in silence as the orange ball rose slowly over the horizon. Even the sounds of nature seemed to hush in awe of the moment as the sun became a half circle and then a globe, resting like a glowing ball between the two mountains.

  “Wow,” she said, looking at Brady when the sun grew too bright. “That was stunning.”

  He arched a brow. “Worth the hike then?”

  “If I say yes, are we going to make this crack-of-dawn climb again tomorrow?”

  “I might let you sleep in.” He reached into the backpack, withdrew a white box, and pulled back the lid for her.

  Half a dozen gourmet pastries were nestled inside. She sucked in a breath. “Where did those come from?”

  “Prearranged. Pick one.”

  “Just one?” She selected a raspberry Danish, looking at him sideways as she chewed the sweet, gooey pastry.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Do you have any flaws? Any at all?”

  “What? Of course I do.”

  “What are they?”

  He took his time chewing a bite of the chocolate muffin he’d selected. “Well, for starters, I’m obsessed with sports cars, and I tend to care too much . . .”

  “That’s a flaw?”

  “And I can be a little insecure sometimes. What about you?”

  She wanted to explore that last one, but later. “Mine aren’t exactly a secret. Sometimes I speak without thinking. I tend to ex
aggerate. I can be a wee bit bossy. And also my thighs.”

  He choked. “Your thighs?”

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  “There is nothing wrong with your thighs, Hope.” His gaze dipped south and back up. “Not a thing. Geez. Women are so hard on themselves.”

  “We’ll talk again after you’ve actually seen them.”

  “Thighs,” he muttered, shaking his head, a crooked little smile on his face. “And for the record, I didn’t know we were opening this up to physical flaws.”

  She snorted. “As if you have any.” She’d seen him shirtless on more than one occasion. He had a six-pack, arms of steel, and tanned, flawless skin. Not that she’d noticed.

  “I have a crooked nose—and I can’t even make it cool by saying I got it in a fight. I have a deviated septum. Sexy, huh?”

  She laughed. “Where? You do not.”

  He pointed. “Right here.”

  She ran her finger over the alleged crook. “You’re crazy. It’s straight as an arrow.”

  “And then there’re my hands.” He held them out, palms up.

  She looked, though she didn’t need to. She’d noticed his hands a long time ago. They were quite nice. Strong, capable, manly hands. “What’s wrong with your hands?”

  “They’re all calloused and stained. No matter what I scrub them with I can never get them completely clean.”

  She ran her fingers over his work-roughened palms. “I don’t know how to break it to you, buddy, but women find hands like these pretty hot.”

  “They do not.”

  “Trust me. They’re very manly and rugged and definitely do not count as a flaw.”

  “Well, I haven’t even mentioned my cowlick.”

  “That’s not a flaw either. It’s cute.”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “It’s pointy, and it sticks up high enough to perch a bird.”

  She threw a wadded-up napkin at him, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

  Maybe it was the fresh air or the caffeine or the delicious sustenance. Or maybe it was simply Brady. He was so much fun to be with. And so sweet. He’d gone to a lot of trouble for their pseudo honeymoon. She hadn’t expected that.

  What she had expected was a moment or two after the ceremony when she questioned her sanity. When she wondered if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life. A mistake that couldn’t be easily corrected. But so far, no signs of that. At least for her. She was enjoying herself too much.

  She nudged his shoulder, waiting until his eyes locked onto hers. The sunlight made the blue flecks almost silver. “No regrets?”

  He held her gaze for a long, pulse-stirring moment. “No regrets.”

  His eyes were smiling. He’d have laugh lines as he grew older. Probably go a little gray at the temples and be more handsome than ever, the jerk.

  “You’d tell me if you did?” she asked.

  “I would. But what about you? Has your sanity returned yet?”

  She laughed, remembering his message the day before. “I guess not. And, by the way, thanks for that pre-ceremony message. I was fretting a bit.”

  His gaze sharpened on her. “Doubts?”

  “Not about me. I was afraid you’d changed your mind. Getting downright neurotic about it, in fact.”

  “You didn’t have to worry about that, Hope. I think life with you is going to be pretty darn fun.”

  “Well, it won’t be boring, I can assure you of that.”

  His gaze roved over her face until heat flared up inside her. “I think you’re right.”

  Something fluttered in her belly. She remembered his wedding kiss—who could forget? She could almost see the reverent way he’d looked at her as he leaned in. Feel the gentle brush of his lips. Once. Twice. Not enough. She’d like to try it again, without the audience.

  As if reading her mind, his eyes dropped to her mouth.

  Her heart thumped, and her lips parted in anticipation.

  But instead of leaning forward he turned back to look at the valley.

  Her breath whooshed out. She told herself the clenching of her stomach was just hunger. Right. Hunger. She needed sustenance. She took a tasteless bite of the Danish.

  Brady finished off his muffin. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

  “We burned a lot of calories this morning.” She took a sip of her coffee, rebounding from the moment. “And supper last night was a little rushed, huh?”

  “It was a crazy night. Good, though. I think our friends enjoyed themselves. I know I did.”

  He’d been a prince about the whole wedding thing. She was glad she hadn’t settled for a quick after-church ceremony. She would’ve regretted it, and her mom would’ve been disappointed.

  “Thanks for going through with all that. I’m glad we had a real wedding.”

  He grinned at her. “Me too. Thanks for not being a bridezilla.”

  She smiled, thinking of all the late-night planning talks after his long days in the garage. He’d never once become impatient with her indecision or argumentative about details.

  She thought of all he’d been through the last year with Audrey. How the woman had jerked his heart around. He hadn’t deserved that.

  “I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead,” she said softly. “But Audrey was crazy. I hope you know that. She had no idea what she had in you.”

  He shot her a look before taking another muffin. “Thanks for saying that.”

  “It’s true.”

  As they finished breakfast they talked about their plans for the rest of the day. Hope was glad he had more than hiking on the agenda. They decided to do the scenic chairlift in Ober Gatlinburg, catch lunch in town, then go back to the cabin for a nap. Now that was a plan she could get on board with.

  After taking some selfies, they started down the trail. The hike down was much easier, Hope was happy to find. They even managed to carry on a conversation.

  “So this car obsession of yours . . . ,” she said as he helped her over a log in the path. “Do you have a favorite? A dream car?”

  “The McLaren F1.”

  She laughed. “That was quick. What makes it your dream car?”

  “Well, first of all it’s rare. Only sixty-four of them ever made. And it’s fast, of course—has a top speed of 243 mph.”

  “That is fast. So is that what you’re working toward someday? To own a McLaren F1?”

  “I’d be happy just getting to work on one. Buying one would set me back about ten million.”

  Hope’s eyes bulged. “Ten million dollars? Yeesh!”

  “I’d settle for a McLaren 720S, though, if you’re making my Christmas list.”

  “I’m afraid to ask what that one costs.”

  “It’s only $254,000. But it can take you from 0 to 60 in a mere 2.8 seconds. See, I’m willing to compromise.”

  She laughed. “That’s more than your house is worth.”

  “Our house. Told you . . . obsession.” He checked his watch as he maneuvered around a boulder in the path. “I want to check my phone when we get back. Make sure Sam’s all right.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine. But I miss him.”

  “Me too.” Something in his tone tugged her eyes to him. He had the worry frown between his brows.

  “Hey, none of that worry stuff. We’re on our honeymoon. Just check in with Heather when we get back, and you’ll see Sammy’s doing just fine.”

  He spared her a smile as he held a branch for her. “You’re right. Is your schedule clear this week to stay with him?”

  “All except for Thursday. I have that interview at the oldies station. Maybe we can ask Ruby if she wouldn’t mind—”

  He stopped so suddenly she almost ran into him. “An interview? I thought that job was a done deal.”

  After their first-date conversation about the opportunity, he’d brought up the job regularly. He really wanted this for her. “It is. This is just a formality.”

  His eyes pierced hers, concern in the bl
ue depths. “You sure?”

  “Stop worrying. It’s all in God’s hands.”

  The frown between his brows didn’t go away. Nor did the worry in his eyes. “The commuting thing isn’t bothering the folks at the station? Hope, I’d feel like dirt if you lost this job because of what you did for me.”

  Didn’t he realize how much he had to offer? What a terrific human being he was? And that was before she even added that adorable baby of his into the mix.

  An ache welled in her throat, and she touched his arm. “I’m starting to see what you meant by insecurity. Brady, the job will be great. Commuting won’t be an issue. But even if I lost it somehow, I wouldn’t regret marrying you. The real gift is you and Sam and the promise of a great future as a family.”

  She meant that—and it worried her a bit. Was she falling back into an old pattern? She’d been willing to follow Aaron to Duke, and all of that had fallen through with his death. She’d ended up settling for a local college. Was she settling again? No, she wouldn’t have to settle. The job was hers, and Brady was willing to make sacrifices to see that happen.

  Brady’s frown lines had smoothed out, the worry in his eyes beginning to morph into acceptance.

  “I’m excited about our future, job or no job,” she said. “I mean, I definitely want the job . . .”

  He huffed a laugh. “You deserve the job. That job has your name written all over it.”

  “And I’ll get the job. So let’s just take one step at a time, all right?” She poked him in the side. “And stop fretting over everything.”

  He gave her a wry grin. “I’m starting to see your bossy side.”

  “Well, get used to it, mister. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

  chapter fifteen

  They decided to spend their last day in Gatlinburg hiking to Midnight Hole. So Brady took the dirt road to the trailhead, and they started the one-and-a-half-mile trek down Big Creek Trail.

  As they walked, Brady looked up at the towering white pines shading the needle-strewn path. Branches creaked in the wind, and the air was heavy with the smell of decaying leaves. It was easier than yesterday’s hike, with only a moderate incline.

  When they came to a spot where the trail dropped steeply to one side, he took Hope’s hand and pulled her away from the drop-off. Even after the danger was past, he kept hold of her. It felt natural to have her hand in his.