Return to You

schedule."
    Yes, that was unfortunate but it couldn't be helped.
"You didn't see her yesterday when you arrived?"
    Michael snorted. "You know how those women are."
    He did know. The day before he and Elaine were wed
he almost broke the door down to get to her, which earned him a
severe scolding from Mae. That wasn't an experience he cared to
repeat.
    The door opened and Elaine popped her head in.
"Everett, we're ready."
    Michael jumped up. "Thank God. I'll go wait on my
spot." He practically mowed Elaine down on his way to the
altar.
    Elaine grinned. "Eager, isn't he?"
    Parker's chest tightened. Damn, she was so
beautiful. She wore a dusky rose silk sheath. It was what she had
on underneath that intrigued him. Lace the same color as her dress
and thigh high stockings.
    He fingered a strand of her hair that had come loose
from the intricate twist. Later he was going to take great pleasure
in slowly letting her hair down.
    As if she could read his mind, her cheeks flushed
and her gray eyes melted. Her body swayed into his. In her high
heels she fit perfectly against him. "Everett, there's no time
now."
    He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her clean scent that
drove him crazy. He whispered in her ear, knowing how it affected
her. "I want to see you in nothing but your stockings and
shoes."
    Her hand snaked between them to check how aroused he
was. She looked up at him mischievously. "Olivia's waiting for
you." With a squeeze, she turned and slowly sashayed out the
door.
    He adjusted himself. Later she'd pay for that little
bit of teasing, and they were both going to enjoy it.
    He strode down the hall to Olivia's room. As he
opened the door, he was assailed with feminine laughter.
    Eve raised her champagne flute. "To everlasting love
and eternal happiness."
    The pixie one—if he remembered correctly her name
was Gwendolyn—lifted her glass. "To hot men who know what to do
with chocolate sauce."
    The women guffawed and tinked their glasses
together.
    Parker cleared his throat to let them know he was
there. There were just some things he didn't need to know about his
daughter. "Excuse me. I believe it's time."
    Gwendolyn gave Olivia a thumbs up. "Break a
leg."
    Eve rolled her eyes. "Come on, Gwen. We should take
our seats." She squeezed Olivia's hand and smiled at him as she
dragged the other woman out.
    His first unobstructed view of his daughter rendered
him speechless. For a moment he was back thirty years and seeing
Lily coming down the aisle to him. Only now, the memory was full of
joy instead of pain.
    Olivia fingered the simple tulle skirt. "It's mom's
dress."
    "Yes, and you look as beautiful in it as your mother
did." Like a fairy princess, Lily would have said. "She'd be so
happy for you."
    Olivia tipped her head and studied him. "For you too
I think."
    Yes, he imagined. Lily, the incurable romantic,
would have been thrilled on both counts. If he were whimsical, he
might even believe she orchestrated the whole affair from
beyond.
    He walked to Olivia and brushed his fingertips along
her jaw. "Ready?"
    "Is Michael out there?"
    "He should be under the canopy waiting impatiently
as we speak." Parker smiled wryly. "He practically ran down
Elaine."
    She grinned. "Let's go put him out of his misery
then."
    He tucked the hand she offered him into the crook of
his arm. They walked outside, down the path someone had lined with
rose petals, to the open field beyond Mae's gardens.
    There was a sea of people and at the end the lacy
canopy where the minister and Michael waited.
    Parker and Olivia paused at the crest, waiting for
the wedding march to start. Everyone turned around, beaming, and
the hum of conversation stopped.
    Parker glanced at his daughter. Elaine may believe
he meddled in their lives, but he couldn't feel sorry about it. In
fact, he felt damn satisfied.
    The music started. Olivia squeezed his arm. "Thank
you, daddy," she whispered, her eyes trained Michael.
    He smiled, patted her hand, and walked his little
girl to her man.
     

About Kate
     
     
    When Kate was a little girl, all she dreamt
about was moving to France and living in a stone castle while
painting the Provencal countryside. To prep herself, she studied
French, stocked up on berets in every color, and practiced her
shrug for hours in front of the mirror.
    But then, because indentured servitude
seemed more attractive than eating baguettes and drinking wine, she
took a detour into the world of high tech. Mostly, she worked as a
lackey for companies