Wishing in Wisconsin (At the Altar Book 3) Read online

  He took her hand and placed it on his arm, patting it gently. "I wouldn't have let anyone else do it. You're as much our child as Cissie is."

  Cindy smiled, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for always treating me like a daughter."

  Lachele came back to the room, sticking her head in. "It's time. Stop being all sentimental and get out here."

  Cindy laughed. "We're coming!"

  Lachele's hair looked more purple than usual that day, and Cindy wondered absently if she'd just dyed it again as she followed the older woman to the back of the church. She loved Lachele's hair, wishing she had the guts to do strange color with hers, but she knew she never would.

  She looked around the church almost as if she was seeing it for the first time. Cindy knew her grandparents, and her parents had been married in the same church before her, and she was thankful her future husband had agreed to a wedding there.

  They stopped in front of the closed doors at the back of the sanctuary, and Cindy took deep breaths. She hoped she'd find him attractive!

  The doors opened and her eyes moved to the man waiting at the front of the church for her. He had dark hair and a short beard. Yes, he was just scraggly enough to make her happy. Hopefully he would be as kind as he looked. She raised her chin, her eyes meeting his, and she walked confidently to the front of the church.

  Trey stood watching his bride walk toward him. He started to look behind him to see if there was another man she could be smiling at so sweetly. Didn't she realize she was walking to him? He was the nerd, the guy girls always avoided. So why was this beautiful woman walking toward him with a smile on her face?

  When she reached the front of the church, her father placed her hand into Trey's, kissing her cheek. Her father moved to the front pew to sit beside the woman who must be her mother.

  He looked down at her delicate hand in his, her nails painted a pale pink, and he squeezed her hand tightly. Together they turned to face the minister, but he wanted to simply stare at her. She was beautiful. She couldn't really be marrying him, could she?

  The wedding flew by. He didn't recall being asked to take her as his bride, but he must have. What he remembered best was the preacher saying, "You may kiss the bride." He turned to her, and saw her looking up at him, a sweet smile on her face.

  He cupped her face in his hands, leaning down and brushing his lips across hers. He could have stood there kissing her all day, but he knew that would be inappropriate. He would wait for another time to kiss her the way he really wanted to.

  When he raised his head, she was standing facing him, her lips parted slightly and her eyes closed. He couldn't resist. He lowered his head and kissed her one more time, lingering this time. He heard a snicker from the congregation, and he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. She was his. He couldn't believe it.

  As they walked to the back of the church, with her hand on his arm, he wondered what her name was. He knew it would have been mentioned during the ceremony, but he didn't remember it. When they reached the back of the church, he led her into the bride's room and closed the door with a snap, happy to see the lock on the door, which he quickly clicked.

  She looked up at him with surprise. Why is he locking the door? He doesn't think we're going to consummate right here, does he? Because if he does, he's truly lost his mind.

  He took her shoulders in his hands, his eyes meeting hers. "I need to kiss you again," he said softly, his head lowering to hers.

  Cindy raised her lips eagerly. She'd never dated much, being too serious about her studies, and then her business, to attract much male attention. She liked kissing him, though, and would do it all day if they could get away with it. His slow Southern drawl lit a fire within her she hadn't realized was there.

  She knew she should be shy, and probably shouldn't want to be touching him yet, but she'd waited her entire life for her wedding day. She'd read more romance novels than most women did in a lifetime. Ready to get on with the physical aspect of her marriage, she saw no need to play coy. Why should she act like someone she wasn't?

  Raising her hands to his shoulders, she pulled him down to her, parting her lips for his kiss. He pressed his lips firmly to hers, his tongue stroking her lips. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her more firmly against him. When he pulled away, he felt her breath on his lips, and it felt almost more intimate than the kiss itself had. "You're so beautiful."

  Cindy smiled, her hands stroking his beard. "I like this," she said.

  "My beard or kissing?" he asked with a grin.

  "Both!"

  He laughed. "Let's sit for a minute."

  She nodded, following him to two chairs side by side against one wall of the room. Even as she sat beside him, she made sure her hand was in his, touching him. She didn't want to let go, afraid he'd disappear. She'd expected to feel nothing, but found she felt everything all at once. How could a stranger make her feel so much?

  "First off, can you tell me your name? I know the preacher must have said it, but I was in a daze!"

  Cindy laughed softly. "I'm Cindy Lambert."

  "Cindy Zayne now," he said, his finger rubbing against her bottom lip.

  She smiled. "Cindy Zayne," she repeated. "And you're Stephen Zayne."

  He groaned. "My friends call me Trey. I'm a third."

  "Trey. I like that." She leaned toward him, raising her lips to his once again.

  Trey leaned down and took her lips with his, pressing her close to him. She was something else.

  "Lachele said you needed me to move to you," he said between kisses. "You have a job here?"

  Cindy nodded, her hand against the side of his neck. "I own a bed and breakfast."

  He looked into her blue eyes, startled by their brightness. "Is that where we'll need to live?"

  She nodded. "My bedroom is on the first floor, and there's a space for an office. Lachele told me you could work from anywhere. The guests have the upstairs."

  "Sounds reasonable," he said, kissing her softly once again.

  She sighed. "We really should head to the bowling alley for the reception," she whispered.

  He grinned. "Our reception is in a bowling alley?"

  She nodded. "My best friend's parents have always owned the bowling alley in town, so when we decided to marry, it seemed like the place to hold it. There's a big room that people rent out to one side of the place."

  "Will we get to bowl?" he asked, picturing her wearing bowling shoes with her wedding dress, and it was all he could do to keep from laughing aloud.

  "Of course not. We can another time, though, if you like to bowl." She shrugged. "It's one of the most popular activities in town. In the summer, we swim and hike. In the winter we snowmobile and we bowl."

  "Snowmobile? I've heard that's fun!" He couldn't wait to try it.

  "You've never been snowmobiling? Where are you from?" It was hard to believe there were people alive who had never done something so basic.

  "Texas."

  "Oh. I guess there's not much snow there."

  "It ices more than it snows." He shrugged. "I love the idea of having four seasons."

  She laughed. "If you can handle winter starting in October and going through April, you'll love Wisconsin." She got to her feet. "Let's go to our reception and pretend we want to spend the evening with everyone."

  "We don't?" he asked, standing and putting an arm around her to keep her at his side.

  "Oh, I like people, especially the ones who came to our wedding, but...I'd rather be alone with my new husband."

  He stopped, moving his index finger beneath her chin and tipping her face up to his. "Is that so?"

  She nodded, her tongue sneaking out to lick her lips. "That's so."

  He lowered his head, kissing her softly. "And if we were alone? What would you want to do?"

  She blushed, burying her face in his neck. "Well, what most newlyweds like to do comes to mind." If she was being too bold, then he'd just have to live with it. She wasn't about to pretend to be someone she wasn't.

  His eyes widened. He'd truly expected her to ask for more time before they consummated the marriage once they met, but not his bride. How did he get so lucky?

  *****

  The reception went way too quickly for Trey's tastes. He wanted to get to know her friends and family, and he found he was more and more nervous about the wedding night. He'd never been with a woman before, and he was afraid she'd realize it.

  They cut the cake and fed a piece to each other. He lost his breath when she licked his fingers clean. It was such an intimate act. He wanted to groan at her touch, but too many people were watching them.

  He wished the wedding had been later in the day, because it was only four when the reception was over. What would they do for the remainder of the time until he could take her to bed? He thought about his truck that needed to be unpacked, but that didn't seem nearly glamorous enough for a wedding day.

  "Did you drive?" he asked as they stepped outside. "My truck is still at the church."

  She laughed softly. "I live less than half a mile from here. We'll walk it."

  He eyed her dress skeptically. "Your shoes won't hurt your feet?"

  She lifted the edge of her gown and showed him her flats. "They're certainly at least as comfortable as your shoes."

  He grinned. "I still need to get my truck. I need something to change into."

  She nodded, and they walked back toward the church, which was only a block over. When she saw his truck, she smiled. "I like your truck. What year is that thing?"

  "It's a '56 Ford F-100," he said proudly. "I bought it when I graduated from high school, and spent the whole summer fixing it up so I could drive it to college."

  She walked toward it as if in awe. Once she was close enough, she reached out and touched the side with the palm of her hand. "It's beautiful." She grinned at him over her shoulder. "My grandpa and I fixed up cars together. It was our thing. I had a '67 Camaro when I graduated. I drove it to college."

  He grinned, thrilled they had something like that in common. He assumed she had only done the painting and interior work, but that was okay. They'd still make a good team. "We'll have to fix one up for our kid."

  She blushed at his words, thinking about what it would take to make a baby. "I'd like to work on a car with you."

  He put his key in the door and unlocked it, taking her hand and helping her into the truck, tucking her skirt around her so it wouldn't get stuck in the door. "We can't ruin your dress."

  She started to say that she hoped their daughter would wear it someday, but she bit her tongue. It felt too strange talking to him about the possibility of children when they'd just met. Of course, he was her husband.

  He ran around to the driver's side of the truck and got in beside her, shifting the truck into gear after starting it. "Where to?"

  "We need to go to the B&B," she responded.

  "How do I get there?" he asked.

  She laughed softly. "I'm sorry. I'm used to everyone knowing where everything is." She gave him directions, that included, 'Turn at the big oak tree. You can't miss it.'

  He had no idea of the difference between an oak tree and a maple tree, but he started driving, hoping she'd tell him when he'd reached the correct tree along their journey. It only took a minute or two for him to pull into her driveway. He got out, running around the truck to open the door for her.

  Trey eyed the huge house, wondering just how many guests she would have at a time.

  As if she'd read his mind, Cindy told him, "I didn't take any reservations for tonight. We have one night alone, and I'll have to get back to work tomorrow."

  He was relieved. "At least we'll be alone for our wedding night," he said, then immediately blushed. He hadn't meant to say that aloud.

  Cindy looked at him with a grin. "Yeah," she said with a grin. "We'll be alone tonight." She loved the way he blushed anytime anything intimate was mentioned. She may be a virgin, but she certainly wasn't as shy as he was about it.

  Chapter Three

  They'd only had finger foods served at the reception, so Cindy changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top and went to the kitchen to fix them a quick supper. Trey wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed that they weren't going to start their wedding night immediately. Sure, he was physically ready for anything, but he was nervous.

  He waited in the living room while she changed, and then changed into something more suitable himself. He needed to get his things unpacked. Truly, he had sold most of his furniture, at Lachele's request, but he'd kept a few things he needed. It wasn't a ton, but it was enough that it would take him a while to get settled.

  Once he was in his shorts and a comfortable tee-shirt, he wandered into the kitchen, watching her chop potatoes with a knife. He'd never seen anyone chop anything quite the way she was. His mother had preferred drive-thru to a home- cooked meal, and he'd never really learned to cook as a result.

  "You're really good at that," he said finally.

  She grinned at him over her shoulder. "I learned to cook watching my grandmother. She didn't use mixes for anything."

  "What are you making?"

  "Oh, just potato soup. It's one of my grandmother's favorite recipes."

  "Was she at the wedding?" he asked, wanting to know more about her.

  Cindy stopped chopping for a moment, wishing–wishing he knew not to ask that in her grandmother's kitchen while she was doing something Cindy had done with her grandmother a million times. "No, she died three years ago. A few days before we were supposed to open our doors for the first time."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

  She shrugged, dashing a tear from her eye. "She would have liked you."

  "Did you spend a lot of time with your grandparents when you were little?"

  "I lived with them until I went to college."

  "Oh, your dad seemed nice when I talked to him at the reception. Why did you live with your grandparents?"

  Cindy briefly explained about her parents' deaths. "My grandparents brought me home from the hospital. There was no one else. The Rivers were like parents to me, but they just helped my grandparents when they could."

  "So who are the Rivers? Was that the man who gave you away?"

  Cindy nodded. "He was. He is my best friend's dad. She was my maid of honor."

  "I saw her in the corner talking to Dr. Lachele after the ceremony. Is she going to take the plunge?"

  She laughed. "Take the plunge? Did you feel like you were diving into ice cold water by marrying me?"

  He blushed. "Only a little."

  She scooped up the chopped potatoes and dropped them into a pot of water, putting the pot on the stove. After turning on the burner, she walked across the kitchen to him, putting her right hand on his chest, over his heart. "I hope you feel comfortable with me soon." She stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his, her hands going to his shoulders and kneading them.

  He caught her by the waist and pulled her to him, her hips flush against his, leaving no doubt about his desire for her. After a moment, he pulled back, looking deep into her eyes. "I guess I should bring my junk in while you finish dinner."

  Cindy debated saying she could feel his junk pressing against her, but she decided not to be so risqué. She would enjoy seeing him blush, but even though she thought it, she wasn't sure she could say it in a calm enough way that it wouldn't ruin it. It wasn't like she was exactly sexually experienced. Instead she said, "You do that. Dinner will be ready in less than an hour."

  He nodded, leaning down to kiss her quickly once more before heading out to the truck. It didn't take long for him to carry everything into the house. She had shown him an office they'd share at the opposite end of the first floor from their bedroom. He grinned when he thought about actually sharing a bedroom with her. Every single night for the rest of their lives. No, he didn't know her yet. He couldn't say he loved her, but he was definitely in lust, and that was a good start for him.

  Cindy put the food on the table and called him in to supper. "Did you finish?" She had watched him go in and out with lots of boxes. She hoped he was close to finished, because there wasn't a lot of room for more.

  "Just brought in the last box," he told her, wiping sweat from his brow. He picked up the water glass she'd filled and swallowed it all in one gulp. He walked to the tap and refilled and drank the second down as well. When he refilled a third time, he put it on the table where it had been.

  She watched him with wide eyes. "Are you part camel?"

  He made a face. "Texas is hotter, but Wisconsin is a lot more humid."

  She sat at her place at the table, and looked at him, waiting for him to sit. "I'm sure Texas is hotter, but I've never been. Do you think you'll miss it?"

  He shrugged. "Can you ever leave the state you've lived in for more than thirty years without missing it?"

  "I wouldn't know. I left for college, but that was only four years."

  "Do you wish you'd had a chance to be gone longer? Or are you glad you came home when you did?"

  "I would have liked more time on my own, but my grandmother needed me. I don't regret spending her last days with her in any way at all. I was where I needed to be. Now, though, I'm tied down to the B&B. Maybe someday I'll get to do a bit of traveling, but it would mean hiring someone to take my place for a while, which would be a pain."

  "Someday then," he said, leaning over to take a bite of his soup. "This is really good!"

  Cindy smiled. "Thanks. It's one of my favorites."

  "I think it'll be one of mine, too!" He took another bite. "Do you provide food for the people who stay here? How does that work?"

  "I provide breakfast. Some people have me pack a lunch for them, especially if they're going to be out on the water all day, but there's a fee for that. I never do dinner, though."

  "Water? Is there a lake near here?"

  She laughed. "This is Wisconsin. There are lakes everywhere! We're about fifteen minutes from Petenwell Lake."

  "I have no real concept of where we are. I bet winters are a bear this far north, though."