Kiss Me Maybe (Princess Cruises Presents: Kindle Love Stories) (7 page)

She pulled one of her hands from his and placed it over his mouth. “Wait. I need to tell you something first. You’ve made these last days incredible. And even though I know Grandma Trini is going to kill me, I really want to . . . I’d like to give dating you a chance. If you’re still interested in that.”

“Interested? Are you kidding me? It’s all I want. But I have to be honest, Megan. I’m not going to be satisfied with dating you for long.”

She sucked a breath.

He chuckled. “What I mean is, I’ve waited a lifetime for you. And I didn’t even know it. We have time to get to know one another, but sweetheart, you’re the woman of my dreams. And I’m not a patient man.”

“So, we move forward?”

He nodded. “What about Richard?”

“Grandma Trini is going to kill me. But I have to live my own life.”

Alexander drew her into an embrace and kissed her like he meant it.

She leaned back, dizzy. “What were you going to tell me?”

He drew her closer. “I was adopted by the Andrews. My birth mother was a young girl who didn’t feel she’d be able to care for a newborn.”

Megan touched his cheek. “Alexander, I don’t care about that . . . any of that.”

“Her name was Amanda . . . Richards.”

Megan drew a quick breath. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was a while before he answered. “I didn’t want you falling in love with a name. I wanted you to fall for me, Megan. And when Richard showed up, I didn’t tell you because I figured you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You were my Richard all along,” she whispered.

“Offering to help you search for him gave me a great way to spend time with you, time for us to get to know one another. Can you forgive me?”

“You lied for the sake of honesty. So we could build an honest relationship, not one based on the prophecy of an old lady.”

He nodded.

“I forgive you. Plus, I have a secret. Tonight, even though I’m dressed in this antique lace gown—”

“Which is quite beautiful,” he interrupted then dropped a kiss on her lips.

“Thank you. As I was saying, I’m dressed, but there is a very specific piece of clothing I’m
not
wearing.”

He blinked, then his eyes trailed down over her.

Megan blushed but also felt emboldened by the night, the man, the stars. She stepped back and grabbed the lower part of her dress. Slowly, she lifted it.

His eyes focused on her naked feet then his gaze danced up to her face. “I’ll admit that’s not what I was expecting.” But he joined her laughter and threaded an arm around her waist.

“Why not?” she coaxed.

He kissed the side of her head as they walked. “Because mermaids never wear shoes.”

It was six months later when Alexander Andrews and Megan Cooper wed at the villa he’d purchased on the island of Roatán. A Princess Cruises ship had carried the wedding party to the villa and a Princess Cruises ship would carry them home.

In those months preceding the wedding, Alexander had become a better boss, according to Margery. Megan was able to quit the salon and devote her time to her beauty blog. Life was good. Even if she was a hillbilly and he was a lotion mogul. Even if their relationship had grown out of his desire to help her find her soul mate. They were a perfect match, and with him, she felt like a true princess. Not just that first week but every single day. And though she didn’t think her heart could contain any more love . . . she knew their fairy tale was just beginning.

Megan stood barefoot at the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking their glistening swimming pool and the guests gathering to watch her walk down the aisle with the man she loved. Her wedding dress dusted the tops of her feet. Her sister, Kalie, stood at her side.

“You sure about this no-shoes thing? I mean it
is
a wedding, even if it is poolside,” Kalie asked, her long hair—as blond as Megan’s was red—tied with a ribbon and a colorful tropical flower.

“I’m sure.” She tilted the dress and there her pink sparkling toes wiggled.

Kalie rolled her eyes. “At least Romeo gave you your own pool. Not to mention the incredible beach.”

They both took in the view of deep, blue-green water and gentle waves. Megan hugged her sister. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course. I mean, I could have gone zip-lining today, but I chose this. By the way, I wanted to tell you thanks for the cruise and thanks for inviting Richard.”

It had seemed good and right with the world to invite Richard to the wedding. But that wasn’t the only reason he was there. Grandma Trini had experienced yet another dream. This one involving Kalie.

“And where is Romeo, anyway?” Kalie toyed with the ribbon in her hair. “And why are you planning to wear that scarf during the ceremony? You didn’t explain it at the rehearsal.”

Megan picked up the scarf she’d worn the first night she’d had dinner with Alexander. She thought about the story of Aquanna. “Because a knot tied by a seawitch and given to a sailor means a soft southwesterly wind. Two knots means a strong wind and three knots means a tempest. To sailors, these magic knots that controlled the wind meant a safe voyage, a successful adventure.”

Kalie stared at her for a long moment. “Uh-huh.”

“When I met Alexander, he was trying to capture the wind. Today, as we wed, I’ll put three knots in the scarf and give it to him.”

“Because you’re the seawitch who has tamed the wind for him?”

Megan smiled and let the scarf slip through her fingers, loving the feel of the smooth, cool silk. “That’s what I thought, but he corrected me on it.”

Kalie frowned. “How so?”

Megan threaded her arm through her sister’s just as the music outside began. “He told me I’m not the seawitch. I’m the wind.”

Hello, beauty lovers! On the blog today I’m addressing the question you’ve all been asking me. What are my top beauty secrets for a fabulous night of perfect makeup?

I have three top tricks that I want to share. Put them in your arsenal. They won’t let you down.

Top Tip #1

Eyes.

Mascara can be a girl’s best friend when it comes to giving us those fluttery, flirty looks that stop gentlemen’s hearts. But same-old, same-old won’t cut it for a special night out. Here’s how to take your everyday lashes to va-va-va-voom status. Before applying your mascara of choice, dab a bit of baby powder over your clean eyelashes. You can use a Q-tip to coat evenly and another one to dab off the excess. Now, apply your mascara as usual and see the difference! For even more drama, apply a second coat!

Top Tip #2

Lips.

Everyone loves luscious, full lips! To give your lips a perfect pout, use a lip liner that is a shade darker than your lipstick. Carefully line the outermost edge, paying extra attention to the corners. From the corners, working your way in, fill in your entire lip area with feathery strokes, but allow the color to lighten as you work toward the center of your mouth—especially the bottom lip. Now, apply your lipstick. You’ll have a perfectly polished look that will last all evening. For a more dramatic look, touch a bit of a light eye shadow to the center of your bottom lip. Perfection! Be ready to fight off the boys!

Top Tip #3

Luminescence.

Everyone needs a bit of sparkle when going out at night. There are lots of fabulous products on the market for creating highlights, but in a pinch, you can use a light and shimmery eye shadow. With your fingertip, apply a tiny amount of shadow on the bow of your mouth just above your lip liner. Next, apply a bit just below the outer edge of your eyebrows. Then a tiny bit at your temples and along the top ridge of your cheekbones. Be sure to blend and enjoy the evening-ready, luminescent you.

Dear Dad,

It
’
s fall here and the leaves are changing. The colors are unusually vivid this season, the deepest red, the brightest yellow, and richest orange I
’
ve seen. Or maybe it
’
s that I
’
ve
been gone so long, staring at endless shades of olive drab, I
’
d forgotten the beauty of autumn.

I drove out to the cemetery yesterday to visit the Havinger family plot where Mom
’
s buried. I wondered if we should contact Grandfather Havinger and see about
having your urn placed there by Mom
’
s grave; it just seems wrong that the two of you aren
’
t together.

But I know that
’
s not what you asked for. Your words echo back to me:
“
We had your mother in life. We can let them have her in death.
”
You were always so
strong, so fair—even with those who didn
’
t deserve it. Of everything you taught me about life, three things stand out. How to be a good man, how to be a good soldier, and how to be a good father.

The first, I daily strive for. The second, well, I suppose
I
’
ve done. The third
. . .
the third I hope to one day do. And I guess that
’
s what this letter is about.

I
’
ve put in my time for Uncle Sam and though the journey was both long and radically difficult, I find myself missing it and wondering what life would
be today had I never signed up. I don
’
t know how to be a civilian, Dad. I
’
m a little bit scared I
’
ll fail at it. What advice would you give me if you were standing here at the water
’
s edge, enjoying the grand display of colors and life? I imagine you placi
ng your hand on my shoulder and saying,
“
It
’
ll be fine, son. Truly, it will all be fine.
”
I wish you were here. I wish I could hear your voice one more time.

Though worlds separate us, you
’
re one of the biggest pieces of my heart.

Your son,

Jeremiah

Jeremiah McKinley wadded the letter and dropped it on the last embers of the early morning campfire. Fog rolled off the lake, great billowing clouds that rose and disappeared as the sun trekked over the mountaintop. It had been the predawn hour when he left his house and walked down to the rock-strewn water’s edge where he’d started a fire with wood and kindling he’d gathered earlier in the week. There was still a chill in the air and it went straight to his bones as he wondered, for the thousandth time, what he was doing back in River Rock, Missouri.

Jeremiah turned to walk back up the winding path to his house, the place he’d throw his time and attention into until he figured out how to be normal again. When he thought of the road ahead, though he was apprehensive, seedlings of excitement had taken root in his heart. He planned to open a hunting and fishing lodge right here on Table Rock Lake. And instead of carrying a gun to kill insurgents, he’d carry one for hunting deer or turkey, maybe even the occasional bear.

Jeremiah shot a glance in the direction of his sister’s land and her ever-odd artists’ colony. Charlee’d found happiness, and that was something Miah wanted as well. Happiness. Contentment.

Peace.

An hour later, he headed into town with the weight of all his questions still heavy on his shoulders. When he spotted the breakfast taco truck, he whipped into the Dairy Flip’s parking lot.

He counted four people in line and glanced down at his watch. 7:25. Miah chewed the inside corner of his cheek. Since he’d been in River Rock, he’d come to love the breakfast taco truck that showed up wherever and whenever it chose. He hated the fact that you could stand in line and at any given moment, the man inside would say, “Sorry, we’re out,” and close the little window. Just like that. It had happened to him twice. Miah tapped his foot and waited behind a guy with three kids in tow. Three customers in front of him, a woman with long, ink-black hair stood on the tiptoes of her tennis shoes, arms folded and propped on the counter while she chatted with the guy inside.