Treasure on Lilac Lane (Jewell Cove 2)

Glen’s driveway came up on the left, a wide, gravel road that wound its way to his cabin. In a matter of moments Jess and Rick were out of the car, had exchanged greetings, received the keys to the Mustang, and Jess was back in her vehicle, heading to Jewell Cove, driving behind the gorgeous vintage car.

Rick was ahead of her the whole way, and Jess was pleased he appeared to be doing just fine managing the manual shift. She blew out a breath in relief. Sometimes it amazed her how much Rick could do with his prosthetic. Even things like tying shoes were nearly impossible with one hand. It had to be a huge adjustment.

They split ways at the first stop sign in Jewell Cove; Rick went on to his house while Jess checked her watch and realized she had ten whole minutes before she was due at Shear Bliss for hair and nails. For the first time since Abby had asked her to be her maid of honor, Jess was excited and nervous for the day ahead. She’d be primped and polished and she’d walk down the aisle on Rick’s arm …

Today was going to be perfect.

* * *

Just before two thirty, Rick drove up the lane to Foster House and parked the car next to a catering van and a few other vehicles he assumed belonged to the staff working the reception in the garden. Driving the vintage Mustang was fun. Cars just weren’t made this way anymore. There was a substance to it that no amount of flashy accessories or convenience could replace, and as much as Rick would like to really open it up out on the highway, he was being extra careful. It was someone else’s baby he was borrowing.

He was less comfortable, however, about the tux. The collar felt too tight and he hadn’t managed to fasten the cuff of one shirt sleeve, but otherwise he’d gotten into the damn thing just fine. Rick pulled into the designated parking at the side of the house and got out of the Mustang, shutting the door with a heavy thunk, before making his way up the walk to the steps leading to the front door. With a snort, he thanked the stars Tom had insisted on a regular tuxedo and not something out of the Foster House attic like the girls were wearing. He could only imagine the look on Josh’s face if he’d been forced into some vintage monkey suit. The jokes would go on for years.

Abby had really poured some of the Foster cash into restoring the mansion, though Rick was pretty sure Tom had given her a good bargain on the renovations when all was said and done. The pillars and railings were perfectly white, the trim on the new windows freshly painted. All the shrubbery had been neatly trimmed—all in all it looked like a new place.

He knocked on the door using the heavy brass knocker, and it was opened shortly after by the bride herself. Rick had to admit his best friend was certainly marrying up. The floor-length dress fell in delicate swaths of ivory satin and lace, and the hairdresser had done something to Abby’s hair, making it soft and pretty around her face. It was all framed by a simple but long veil.

“You,” he said, “look beautiful.”

A smile blossomed on her face. “Thank you, kind sir.” She stepped aside. “We’re nearly ready. Come on in for a minute.”

“We don’t want to be late getting you to the church,” Rick said, stepping into the huge foyer and closing the door behind him. “I saw Tom earlier. He’s so nervous you need to show up and put him out of his misery before he ties himself in knots.”

He’d never seen his friend so keyed up. Rick had left Tom at his parents’ place, having a rose pinned to his lapel while he tapped his foot repeatedly.

“Nearly there. Jess is just putting on her shoes.” As she said it, Rick heard the tap tap of high heels going across the upstairs hall.

He swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous and self-conscious in the black tuxedo. Before he could think better of it, he swept his hand over his hair, smoothing it and hoping nothing was out of place.

Footsteps started down the stairs to his right. Her shoes appeared first, navy shoes with a little strap over the top of her foot and feminine hourglass heels. Then the hem of her skirt that swished with each step. Finally the rest of her came into view as she descended the last eight steps. A delicate, pale hand on the bannister, and Jess, stunning in navy satin embellished with antique lace, the shape of the dress making her look willowy and somehow both sophisticated and impossibly young. He ran a finger beneath his shirt collar, which suddenly felt very tight. Her normally natural makeup was amplified for the occasion. The heavier shadow and liner made her deep blue eyes even bluer, and her lips were shiny and begging to be kissed.

Rick blinked as his gaze clashed with hers. As if she’d ever let him close enough for him to kiss her. Though that really wasn’t the point, was it? The point was he actually wanted to. Badly. Wanted to pull her into his arms and find out if she tasted as sweet as she looked.

“What do you think?” she asked softly, turning in a circle at the bottom of the stairs. “Not bad for something stored in an attic for fifty years, huh?”

He nodded and swallowed again … why did his throat feel so tight? “You look great, Jess. You, uh, deserve a better escort than a rough old soldier.”

She frowned. “Don’t sell yourself short. After all, someone needed to drive the car.”

Talk about puffing him up and taking the wind out of his sails in one brief sentence. Rick smiled. Jess Collins might have a soft nature, but she wasn’t one to wallow in sentiment, and he liked that about her.

She came up to him, a sparkle in her eyes. “Your tie isn’t quite right,” she said quietly, and before he could react she lifted her hands and her fingers were right there, an inch away from his throat, straightening the black bow tie while the scent of her surrounded him, soft and sweet.

“It’s fine,” he said, his voice gravelly. He cleared it. “We should get going.”

“We just need our flowers. I’ll be two seconds.”

She disappeared into the dining room where two waxy-white boxes waited, holding the bouquets. Rick looked over at Abby, who was watching him with an amused expression. “So it’s like that,” she observed in an undertone, her eyes twinkling.

“What’s like what?” He played dumb, hoping that the heat crawling up his neck didn’t manifest in a blush. Had he been that obvious?

“You and Jess. You looked like you swallowed a frog when she fixed your bow tie.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that at all. I’ve known Jess since we were kids.”

Abby laughed. “If you say so.”

“You’re getting married,” he replied. “You just think everyone should be as happy as you are today.”