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The summer darkness was mild and filled with nighttime sounds resembling soft music. Ryan held Melinda's hand as they walked across the grass to the tiny rose garden beside the hotel. She wanted to hug him closer, but didn't dare to yet. They had to talk first. Her heart beat faster, and she searched her mind for the right words to convince him that her feelings for Jared were truly in the past.

She sensed that he wanted to be convinced of it, that he would listen with the right kind of ear, but still she felt as if she was on trial. How could she plead her case? Rehearsing the words in her head felt terrible, so she began to speak them out loud, deciding to trust that the right phrases would come.

"Ryan, I want to tell you —"

"Hey... No." He turned her into his arms and looked down at her, his eyes smoky and hard to read in the blue darkness. He brushed the ball of his thumb across her lower lip, and she took in a hiss of breath, aching to feel his mouth there instead. Need and desire coiled deep inside her. What he did to her was magi

, so strong.

"I know what you want to say, but you can't," he told her.

"Ryan, I —"

"I mean, you mustn't. I won't let you. It's my turn, now."

"Okay."

"I was so wrong to talk about divorce — to threaten you with it, punish you with it, the way I did. I heard my father's voice coming out of my mouth today, and it terrified me. I was wrong about everything I said. I'm not going to ask you for proof or assurances or anything. Mom and I talked...."

"I saw you. I didn't want to interrupt. It was good to see you looking as if you were getting closer to her again."

"I'm not going to tell you what she said right now. There's time for that. Our whole lives, I hope." His arms tightened around her.

"I hope so, too, Ryan." Her voice fogged.

"I trust you, Linnie. That's the only thing I really need to say. I trust the choice you made today. I trust that you wouldn't have made it if you didn't know that the right feelings lay behind it. And I trust your courage. If you'd wanted to go with Jared, you would have had the courage to go." He shook his head. "I — I want to say more, but I don't think there is anything more. There's just this. Trust. And love."

"Mm." Melinda couldn't speak.

Her eyes brimmed. She closed her lids and tears ran down her cheeks. Ryan bent and kissed them away, his lips tickling and feathering her lashes, and when his mouth closed on hers, she could taste the salt.

They needed sugar to take the taste away. "Is that cake calling to us?" she murmured.

"Not until I've kissed you for a whole lot longer."

"Yes, please..."

His mouth was so slow and lazy on hers, you'd have thought they had all the time in the world. His tongue painted her lips with flame, and his fingers braided her nerve-endings into a web of electric sensation. Her whole body was a sigh, a ripple, a song. She anchored her hands to his hips, feeling the strength in him, enveloped in its aura.

Her breasts began to tingle and swell, and heat and heaviness pooled deep inside her, making her throb. She rocked her hips against him and felt how hard he was. Soon she'd have his satin skin beneath her hands and they'd heat each other to the breaking point. She could hardly wait.

"Linnie," he said on a ragged breath. His fingers combed her hair, scooped down to her jaw, lifted her face higher so he could kiss her more deeply. "I want —

"So do I. So much!"

Under the onslaught of his hands, her hair came tumbling down to her shoulders and they both laughed. "Everyone will know...." she protested.

"Good. How about you loosen my tie and unfasten a button or two on my shirt? I want people to know this about us. That we can't keep our hands away. That we melt together when we touch, and the whole universe shifts when I'm inside you. That we belong to each other."

He buried his face between her breasts, and she arched and shuddered, clung to his shoulders, closed her eyes. "Oh, Ryan..."

"What's the tradition on this cake thing?" he muttered. "Someone else can cut it, right? Your sister? The band?"

She laughed again. "No, Ryan. We have to do it ourselves. Together. With your hand over mine."

"That bit sounds good."

"And you should probably refasten your shirt."

She lifted her hands to her hair, intending to check the damage, but he took them away before they got there. "Leave it," he said. And she did, knowing he was right.

Back in the hotel ballroom, they found Sunny, Shallis and Belle locked in an agitated triangle of consultation. Empires might fall, apparently, if that cake was not cut soon.

Shallis swooped down on Melinda and whispered in her ear, "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's great."

Mom elbowed Miss Tennessee aside. "You are your father's girl. It really hit home to me tonight. And I'm so proud of you! Are you all right, honey?"

"I'm fine. I'm fabulous."

A couple of feet away, Belle hugged her son. "I knew you would get it right with your bride. Be a friend to your dad now that you know the truth. You don't take after him nearly as much as you think. Soften him a little if you can."

"I'll try, Mom."

The band had detected the return of the bridal couple to the ballroom. With all eyes riveted on them from the moment of their entrance, detection hadn't been hard. The musicians struck up some introductory bars of music, which quickly died away. Melinda barely heard the announcement about the cutting of the cake as a waiter wheeled the cake table forward. She took the knife, with its ribbon-tied pearly handle, and Ryan's warm hand curved over hers.

They made the first cut together, releasing the rich scent of chocolate into the air from below the thickly piped white frosting. Melinda scooped the first square morsel in her fingers and lifted it to Ryan's mouth. Their eyes met as he took it between his lips and licked every crumb of chocolate from her fingers.

Then it was his turn. She opened her mouth, and the flash from the photographer's camera caught her stretching forward a little to meet Ryan's symbolic offer of food. The ballroom erupted into applause, and they laughed and kissed.

"Is this what your mom means by a Star Moment?" he whispered.

"No, this is what I mean by a Star Moment," she answered. "Even though everyone's looking on, this is just for us, and we'll have moments like this to share forever."

"Forever," he echoed. "If that's how long you want."

"That's at least how long I want," Melinda answered, as the band began to play once more.

The End



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