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“Oh no, we can,” Becca says, her expression brightening. “The pavilion on the bluff isn’t officially on their land. That’s village property. We’ll be there.”
“With bells on,” Sally says with a happy clap of her hands. “And then we’ll be able to see who you’re crushing on, cutie.” She wags a finger my way. “No, don’t tell me. I want it to be a surprise. A girl has to get her kicks where she can find them in a town this small.”
Becca rises from the sofa in the corner. “Which reminds me, Abigail is doing tarot card readings tonight at The Pug and Crone. You want to come, Sally?”
“Totally,” she says. “Just let me put the towels on to dry and we’ll head out.”
“How much do I owe you for the dress?” I ask as I hurry toward the front door.
Becca waves a hand. “We’ll settle up next time you’re in. No worries. I know you’re in a hurry.”
“No, I want to pay,” I say, worried I might not have the cash if I wait until later.
I haven’t landed any jobs aside from Sally’s shelves and most of the people I’ve asked about fixing their sagging front porches or repainting their siding gave me blank looks. Home improvement doesn’t seem like a priority around here, which means I’m probably going to have to travel outside of Nightfall to find work.
But the closest villages are forty minutes away and who has time for that kind of commute when there’s a wedding barreling toward the altar in barely a week?
Becca finally consents to give me a price. I hand her my last sixty bucks and wobble out the door in the high-heeled cowgirl boots Sally loaned me for the evening. They look surprisingly perfect with the elegant dress, softening the formality and giving it a dash of fun.
Hopefully Darcy, Colin, and the rest of the core wedding party will be so distracted by my new look they won’t notice that I’ve kept them waiting.
By the time I catch the trolley that chugs up the side of the mountain—I can’t climb up the back way from the beach in high heels and a dress with a slit up one thigh—I’m nearly twenty minutes late and creepy organ music is already bellowing from the small chapel behind the mansion.
I’m about to tug off my boots and make a barefoot dash across the grounds, now dotted with flickering torchlight and looking much spookier than during the day, when the air beside me explodes with vampire.
I curse and stumble to the side, my heart hammering at my ribs. “You have to stop doing that,” I hiss. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”
“Doubtful,” Darcy’s deep voice rumbles from beside me. “You’re in excellent shape. One of the steadiest heartbeats in town, in fact. You’re also late.”
I flip my hair over my shoulder. “Makeovers take time. Next time I’ll wear my overalls and be ten minutes early. I promise.”
“You’ll do no such thing. You look…” His eyes rake down my frame, from the top of my high-lighted hair to the tips of my toes, and everywhere in between. My slowing heartbeat picks up the pace once more, making me blush as I realize Darcy must be able to hear it.
How else would he know that I have the steadiest pulse in town?
“I look?” I finally prompt, vowing not to smack him if he says something mean. I’m the bigger person here. And I tried to fulfill the assignment. If he wanted something specific, he should have given better directions.
“Dangerous,” he murmurs, his eyes flashing in the near darkness as he rests a possessive hand at the small of my back. “Don’t leave my side. Not even for a moment. Do you understand?”
“Okay, but why?” I ask, allowing him to guide me toward the chapel, ignoring the way things low in my body tighten and tingle as he keeps his hand firmly parked in that mysteriously sexy place.
The small of the back…
Who knew it was an erogenous zone?
Not me, not until Darcy made that “his spot.” But now I know, and I can’t stop imagining Darcy’s lips where his hand is right now, his tongue dragging in slow circles at the small of my back as he guides my legs apart and settles between them.
Gulping air and forcing my thoughts back into less spicy territory, I ask again, “Why, Darcy?
He mutters something too soft for me to hear, but before I can ask him to repeat himself, Baron emerges from the chapel doors and rumbles, “Five minutes. With or without her.” His dark eyes widen slightly as we close the distance to the front steps. “Oh. She’s here.”
“She is,” Darcy says tightly.
“Hello, Blaire,” Baron says, before adding in a troubled voice, “you look beautiful tonight.”
“Don’t worry,” Darcy says as we pass his blood brother. “I’m on it. Just keep an eye on Janet for me. If for some reason Blaire and I are separated and Janet makes a move, escort her outside for some fresh air and keep her there until the ceremony is over.”
Baron grunts and follows us inside, closing the doors behind us.
