What the Heart Wants

  “Ignore her,” Hope begged.

  “She’s so stupid,” Heaven grumbled. Her curls tossed about her shoulders as her head twisted from side to side. “That song isn’t even about a mental hospital.” She cast her eyes back to Hope.

  “I didn’t just pass out at the boutique. You know what happens when my blood sugar drops. We hadn’t eaten since the flight. And I wasn’t in la-la land. I was looking at that tree.”

  Hope’s eyes followed the length of Heaven’s outstretched arm until her eyes drifted in the same direction.

  “What’s so unusual about a willow tree?” Hope smiled. “It is your favorite tree.”

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Heaven retorted.

  The crease between Hope’s eyes deepened.

  “Watch it!” Hope replied as she folded her arms and tapped her open-toe shoe against the asphalt parking lot. “Faith’s snark is rubbing off on you.”

  Heaven winced at the thought. Being compared to Faith was as enjoyable as rolling in honey and facing a nest of hornets.

  “Sorry. I don’t mean to be grouchy. I have a lot on my mind.”

  Hope cocked her head to the side. “Like?”

  She couldn’t tell her. Maybe after the wedding. But not now. Chelsea came first.

  “It’s the dream, again. Isn’t it? The mystery guy?”

  Just like Hope to figure it out. Darn it.

  Bass pounding through the speakers of a passing car startled Heaven. She flinched as she turned to see a silver Escalade driving by. The rapid beat vibrated the tinted windows and her eardrums. Her eyes trailed after the vehicle in annoyance until it disappeared down the crowded street.

  “I’m not comfortable sharing something that could give you reason to commit me. You already mother me enough.”

  “Only because I worry about you. You shut down after all the drama with Mick. Then these dreams started.”

  “Please don’t bring him up.” Heaven choked back the lump in her throat. The last thing she wanted was to think about her ex, or the hell he’d put her through. Her dreams had nothing to do with him. In fact, the dreams helped her get over the trauma he had caused.

  “Relax. If I could give anyone a permanent vacation to a white padded room, I’d choose Faith. She’s always been crazy,” Hope chuckled.

  The warmth on her lips quieted the buzzing in Heaven’s head. Deep down, she knew Hope’s protectiveness was nothing to fear.

  “Sometimes talking helps.”

  Hope could be persuasive, but Heaven just couldn’t.

  “I’ll tell you more after the wedding.”

  The smile once teasing Hope’s lips gave way to tense brows. “At least tell me what he looks like.”

  “What part of ‘I’ll tell you later’ don’t you get? We’re here for Chelsea. Remember?”

  Another breeze blew, carrying the scent of honeysuckle in it. Had they been standing outside during the dream? Is that why the sweet aroma rushing through her nose or the swaying branches of the tree made her heart long for him that much more?

  She shouldn’t be thinking about him at all.

  “Don’t make me reconsider committing you, instead of Faith.” She wouldn’t dare. “I’m worried. Just answer a few questions and I’ll leave you alone. For now.”

  Heaven sighed. “What do you want to know?”

  “Is it someone you know?”

  “No. There, I answered your question. Happy?” Heaven moved to the trunk, ready to stick in the key when Hope grabbed her arm.

  “I said a few questions. Not one. What does the guy look like?”

  Was this a police station? It sure seemed like an interrogation.

  “I don’t know. He has dark eyes and wavy hair. And he’s tall. Next question?”

  “Is he hot?”

  Now she wanted to make jokes?

  “What’s your point?”

  Hope released her arm and backed away. “Just curious. I don’t think you’d be obsessing over an ugly man.”

  “Other than his eye and hair color, I don’t have much more I can tell you. I don’t know what he looks like.”

  It wasn’t the whole truth. No, she wouldn’t recognize him on the street. But yeah, she knew the exact shade of his eyes and hair. Knew how full his lips were and how much she wanted them. She even knew he had a body to swoon over. But she couldn’t tell Hope anything else.

  Not until the wedding was over and she could think about her happiness, not her best friend’s.

  “Oh,” Hope said. Her hands fell to her sides, shoulders slumping in disappointment. “So you don’t recognize him?”

  “Nope.”

  Heaven’s stomach lurched and knotted. The bitter taste of longing made her lips pucker. That restlessness grew each time she thought of him.

  “One more question and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “I already told you what I could remember.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Hope paused as she ran her finger across the trunk of the car, “but what were you doing in the dream?”

  Good God. How could she get around this answer?

  Feeling her cheeks heating, she hugged herself. She fought back the urge to run away and pull some of her hair out.

  “Talking.”

  Hopes eyes went to the trunk. “Just talking?”

  “Yeah. Are we done now?”

  Hope sighed. “I guess, since you want to be so evasive.”

  “I’m not being evasive. I’m trying to be a good maid of honor. I have to put Chelsea first right now.” Guilt gnawed at her when Hope’s lips turned down. Heaven stroked her arm. “I promise to tell you more after the wedding. Okay?”

  “Fine. I’ll let it slide for now,” Hope said as she swung around to face Chelsea’s car. “Let’s get the rest of these decorations into the church. Lord, we have a lot of decorating to do.”

  “Grab something and go. I’m right behind you,” Heaven told her.

  Hope heaved a box from the trunk. As she turned to walk away, she paused and glanced over her shoulder at Heaven. “Don’t dawdle. If I have to come looking for you, you’re going to do all my research papers next semester.”

  Heaven waved off her threat and leaned into the trunk, lifting the final box. Resting the cardboard against her hip, she forced the lid down until the lock clicked. The clacking of her heels on the pavement steadied the rhythm of her heart.

  She had a purpose today. Sitting around and sulking over tall, dark, and gorgeous wasn’t on the agenda.

  Having already disappeared into the church, Hope’s perfume still lingered in the air. Heaven didn’t want to dawdle, as Hope had put it, but if she didn’t collect her thoughts before entering the building, Chelsea would read her like an open book.

  She didn’t want that. Her best friend deserved to be happy today and especially tomorrow.

  The less Chelsea knew about her problems, the better.

  Inhaling until her lungs burned, Heaven’s eyes climbed the outer brick wall until she spotted the steeple. The perfect golden cross at the top sent a peaceful feeling cascading to her core. She tried to absorb as much of that feeling as she could.

  Get through the next couple of days for Chelsea. After that, she could relax or fret over the dream for the rest of her stay.

  woo-oo-OO-OO-OO

  Heaven’s heart went into overdrive. Her legs felt like lead casts. A mourning dove. She’d recognize the call anywhere. As her heart leapt, she scanned the trees surrounding the grounds. Where was the bird that called to her soul? The one that reminded her of the one thing she couldn’t have. Was it taunting her?

  “It’s an unmated male calling for a mate.”

  Heaven spun around toward the intruding voice. She met rich brown eyes, long dark hair, and a smile as warm as the rays beating down on her.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 6

  They were beautiful brown eyes. Heaven couldn’t deny that. But much lighter than the ones she’d expected. The ones she’d hoped to find starin
g back at her.

  Not the same ones from her dreams.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  The woman’s laugh, like the cooing of the dove, taunted Heaven. Not intentionally. In fact, the chortle at the end seemed a sure sign of awkwardness.

  “It’s okay. I’m a little jet lagged is all,” Heaven assured her, still staring rudely.

  “You must be Heaven,” the beauty said as she stretched her hand forward.

  Heaven balanced the box on her hip. Brushing her hand against her jeans, she clasped the woman’s hand.

  “Yes, I am. And you are?”

  “Emma Nichols. I’m a friend of Chelsea’s. Actually, I’m one of her bridesmaids.”

  “Oh, okay. Kyle mentioned you’d be meeting us here for the rehearsal,” Heaven said, moving the box back into both hands. She watched Emma’s eyes move past her, toward the willow tree.

  “Are you a bird watcher?”

  “No,” Heaven answered, brushing the loose curls from her face with her shoulder. She tossed a glance back at the willow tree, noticing the gray feathers of the dove for the first time.

  “It’s kind of a hobby of mine. Well, I’m a photographer. I shot some photos for National Geographic once, before I accepted a job with a couple of record companies. Instead of photographing nature, I work with rock stars.” She giggled. “I’d rather work with the birds. They’re not as cranky.”

  Heaven broke into a hearty laugh. “I imagine.”

  “That’s how I know that dove is an unmated male. We did a piece on a few birds during mating season and I found the dove the most interesting. The male seeks out the female. His coos are like a song. So in a sense he’s singing to her.”

  “Seriously?” Heaven asked as they listened to the gentle coos.

  “Yep. Then he flies around in a circle before descending to a perching spot. When he and the female come face to face, he’ll strut around and bow before her. If she accepts the courtship, they’re mates for life.”

  “That’s amazing,” Heaven said. She thought back to the dove she had heard cooing in her dream.

  Did it signify something?

  Was this man in her dreams her mate?

  Was he seeking her out through the dreams in an attempt to court her?

  No, that’s crazy. It’s just a dream.

  Heaven felt Emma’s eyes measured her. She glanced over at Emma, forcing a smile on her lips. “Guess we’d better get inside before Chelsea comes searching for us.”

  “Sounds good. I believe you have a couple of sisters I need to meet, too.”

  “Yes, Hope and Faith. Although I don’t know if I’d look forward to meeting Faith. She’s a bit of a diva.”

  “I’m used to divas. Remember, I work with rock stars,” Emma teased as she held open the door for Heaven.

  * * *

  “Are you sure this is it?” Dylan asked as he slowed the SUV.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. That’s Chelsea’s car right there.”

  Dylan’s eyes fell on the car, recognizing it at once. Steering the oversized SUV into one of the tiny parking spaces, he shifted into Park and killed the engine before glaring at his best friend.

  “I can’t believe you. Do you like driving around in circles?”

  “Dude, I told you to quit screwing around with this stupid thing,” Layne said, tapping on the screen just above the radio. “I have an awesome internal navigation system. It puts your SUV’s to shame.”

  “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  Dylan’s eyes locked on the side door of the church. He exhaled. Years of dealing with the paparazzi taught him one thing.

  Always find an escape route.

  Though dealing with the press seemed highly unlikely this evening, the less attention they drew to the main entrance the better. Having a star-studded bridal party was a recipe for disaster, especially when the bride didn’t want security hanging out.

  “Looks like we beat Kyle. Shocker,” Layne said as he adjusted the review mirror until it hit him dead on.

  “Need some lipstick?” Dylan teased.

  “Screw you. I’m making sure there’s nothing between my teeth. You know, Italian food. Spices. Little black specks of whatever they put in the sauce.”

  “Aww, are we feeling a little sensitive about our girly side?”

  Dylan didn’t bother waiting for the evil eye he knew Layne was giving him. The palpitations in his heart left a prickly tingle with each lub-dub. He swiped his hands across his jeans, trying to distract himself at the thought of entering the church.

  “If you don’t want to impress Chelsea’s friends, that’s your loss,” Layne continued. “I plan on having one in my bed tomorrow night.”

  “Friends? What friends?”

  “You know. The ones she brought in for the wedding. One of them is her best friend. Chelsea owes me a date. She screwed up my plans for the weekend. I could be down in the Caymans right now. Kicking back with a beer. Chillin’ with some busty beach-bunny. No, instead I’m here, dressing up in a tux tomorrow. It’s bullshit.”

  Dylan gripped the steering wheel, regretting the whole decision to be in the wedding. The shit he did for his friends.

  “Don’t blame this on Chelsea. Kyle asked us to be in the wedding.”

  “It’s cool. If her friends are the hotties I saw here in the parking lot earlier, I’m all for being here this weekend. One of them has a bod I’d kill to have under mine.”

  The chiming of the door rang through Dylan’s head as Layne stepped out of the SUV. He sucked in a deep breath and joined him.

  “I get the feeling this is something I’m supposed to remember? The whole friends-from-out-of-town thing.”

  Layne’s eyes peered at him over the roof of the vehicle. “Because we agreed to be their dates” —Layne made air quotes— “for the wedding.”

  “Christ,” Dylan mumbled. The muscles in his face tightened. “I forgot all about that. Man…” he paused, rubbing the tension from his temples.

  “What’s wrong with having a date to the wedding?” Layne asked, his grin more cheesy than a fondue bowl.

  “I don’t feel like socializing with some friend of Chelsea’s.”

  Layne tossed a stick of gum at him and laughed when it bounced off his forehead. Why did he deal with Layne’s crap?

  “Dude, you don’t have to marry her.”

  “I have a girl driving me crazy in my dreams…now I have to entertain this chick; someone who I am sure is completely unavailable, even if I were interested. Which, I’m not.”

  “I never said she was unavailable,” Layne griped as he shut the door. “In fact, I remember Chelsea stressing that when she asked us to do this.”

  “Guess my mind was elsewhere during that chat,” Dylan grumbled, running his fingers through his hair. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in anyone but …”

  “Cool, then you won’t mind if I have first dibs after the reception, even if I’m interested in your date?”

  “Do whatever you want. You always do.” Dylan’s gruff voice trailed as he turned his back to Layne. His back pressed against the hood of his SUV, soaking the heat from the engine into his aching muscles.

  God, did he need a vacation.

  “Man, you need to lighten up,” Layne urged. “You’re gonna be a big downer if you don’t get your head out of your ass.”

  Dylan hung his head, his dark hair shadowing his face from the sun. He didn't want to argue with Layne, especially when his best friend made a good point.

  “I know. I shouldn’t have agreed to be in this wedding. I’m not in the mood to celebrate anything.”

  “So your goal is to make everyone else miserable with you?”

  Dylan stepped away from the car. Even though his long bangs prevented him from seeing Layne’s face, he sensed his best friend’s concern.

  “I’m not trying to make anyone miserable.”

  “But you are. Look, I know you’re frustrated. Even sleep
deprived, but you gotta snap out of this funk. At least for the weekend. You’re a performer. Put on your best show.”

  Dylan gazed up at him. “But this is not a concert. I’m not going before thousands of strangers. I’m going to be with people who know me. The real me. Not the performer.”

  Layne tapped his fingers against the hood. “The only person you need to perform for is your date. Pretend she’s the chick from your dreams.”

  “It’s not that easy,” Dylan said, forcing a chuckle from his throat. He raised his eyes upward, watching the clouds coast by. “If she were real—”

  “But she isn’t real,” Layne growled.

  “Don’t say that,” Dylan shouted. His eyes shot to Layne’s face. He clenched his jaw once the words flew out of his mouth. His lips parted. An apology on the tip of his tongue. Then he closed them and cast his eyes back to the church door.

  “It’s the truth, Dylan.” Layne slammed his hands against the hood. “She is a figment of your imagination. To let a real chick screw with you is one thing. But to let one who doesn’t exist is just crazy. You have to let this go.”

  “I’m fine,” Dylan said, closing his eyes.

  His chest deflated as he opened them, again. Holding onto the dreams was taking him down Isolation Road.

  Next stop. Crazy Town.

  His mother’s words from earlier crept into his head. The final two cards of his tarot reading. The Hanged Man. What had it meant? To let go of his fears and doubts. If he did, then the Two of Cups would come into play. The card of new relationships. A union so strong that two people would get lost in each other.

  Was it possible?

  Did such a woman exist?

  For him?

  Looking back at Layne, he nodded his head.

  “You’re right. I need to forget about her. Get on with life.”

  “See, now you sound like my best friend, again.”

  “No, now I sound like you.”

  Layne walked around to Dylan’s side of the SUV and planted his hand on Dylan’s shoulder. He gave it a pat as his smile returned.

  “Relax, bro. This wedding will be fun.”

  Squealing tires filled the air as both turned in time to see Kyle’s black Aston Martin V-12 Vintage pull onto the lot with a silver Bentley Continental hot on his tail.