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Sweetheart Bride
Lenora Worth
BACK HOME TO THE BAYOU Saying goodbye to Fleur, Louisiana, was all part of Brenna Blanchard’s grand plan. Coming back to the quaint tiny town after a failed art career and broken wedding engagement, however, was not. When architect Nick Santiago recruits her to help restore a beautiful old mansion, it’s just the distraction she needs—and growing close to handsome Nick is an unexpected bonus.Except he has a heart in need of restoration, too. All business, the only thing Nick can’t manage to construct is a life outside of work. Unless Brenna can finally help him arrange his priorities—with love as number one.
Back Home To The Bayou
Saying goodbye to Fleur, Louisiana, was all part of Brenna Blanchard’s grand plan. Coming back to the quaint tiny town after a failed art career and broken wedding engagement, however, was not. When architect Nick Santiago recruits her to help restore a beautiful old mansion, it’s just the distraction she needs—and growing close to handsome Nick is an unexpected bonus. Except, he has a heart in need of restoration, too. All business, the only thing Nick can’t manage to construct is a life outside work. Unless Brenna can finally help him arrange his priorities—with love as number one.
“I think we’re both at a crossroad.” And his seemed to be leading straight to Brenna.
She leaned against a thick column. “Yes, I guess so. We’ll see what happens, which way we both go.”
A thick silence hung between them like a low, moss-draped cypress branch hanging over dark water.
“I enjoyed supper,” Nick said, using the term her father had used. “I hope I can repay the favor one day.”
“I enjoyed riding in that souped-up car,” she replied. “Now go. I can tell you’re eager to get to work.”
“You know me already.” Nick took her hand, held it there between them. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Bright and early.” She pulled away.
He wanted to bring her back. But then, she might get the impression that he wanted more.
And Nick wasn’t sure he could give her more.
So he got in his car and cranked the engine.
When he turned to wave, she had already gone in the house.
LENORA WORTH
has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Love Inspired Books spans close to fifteen years. In February 2011 her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence made the New York Times bestseller list. Her very first Love Inspired title, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won an RT Book Reviews Best Love Inspired for 1998. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for the Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense lines. Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance for years with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-six years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping...especially shoe shopping.
Sweetheart Bride
Lenora Worth
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.
—1 Peter 5
To Linda White. Thanks for reading my books!
Contents
Chapter One (#u2b6de913-76c0-51c6-888b-815ed4a7d7da)
Chapter Two (#ub48bbee6-196c-5bb0-bbbe-5de80276ec85)
Chapter Three (#u4ebcbe46-ec35-5d55-a04b-455d027a860a)
Chapter Four (#ub5a623a3-ec6c-5f7d-8b38-2693744d0718)
Chapter Five (#u94c43955-4747-5dfd-91a9-6535b39e8542)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Questions for Discussion (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
The soft sound of wedding music flowed through the quiet church. A hush fell over the crowd of people gathered to celebrate the wedding of Alma Blanchard and Julien LeBlanc. Candlelight gave the tiny sanctuary a muted, dreamy glow. The groom beamed a bright, loving smile as his bride seemed to glide up the aisle, escorted by her misty-eyed father.
Alma’s older sister Callie, the maid of honor, looked radiant in a light golden silk dress with a flowing skirt. She smiled at her sister, her expression full of love and hope.
The other bridesmaid, wearing a similar dress with a fitted skirt, tried hard not to squirm and fidget. Brenna Blanchard sent up a little prayer for courage and self-control.
Dear Lord, please don’t let me bolt out of this church.
She couldn’t, wouldn’t do that to Alma. Alma and Julien were so in love. They’d been in love since high school, but circumstances and stubbornness had torn them apart for ten long years. It was their time to shine.
Brenna could hang on for a few minutes. As long as she didn’t think about her own broken heart and the fact that technically, she should have been the one getting married, she’d be okay. Concentrating on the beautiful arrangement at the center of the aisle, she marveled at how her sister Callie could take sunflowers, mums and yellow roses and turn them into something exquisite. And what was the deal with all the Louisiana irises, anyway? Maybe Alma had a thing for irises?
Brenna forced herself into a serene pose as she smiled at her sister. Alma did look lovely in their mother’s reworked wedding dress. Hadn’t Callie worn that same dress on her wedding day? Wouldn’t that sort of jinx the dress because she’d gotten a divorce?
No, this was their maman’s dress. Lacy and flowing and full-skirted, with a portrait collar. Beautiful.
Brenna’s eyes misted over, the ache in her heart still an open wound. She wished their deceased mother, Lila, could see Alma now. She’d be so happy.
I’ll be happy for you, Mama, Brenna thought now, her gaze scanning the crowded church. I won’t be sad no matter how much I miss you, no matter how much I wish I could be the one walking up that aisle.
Brenna had a brief flash of pain, like a thorn from one of Callie’s beautiful roses, as she thought of her ex-fiancé and wondered why she’d had love and lost it. Oh, wait, according to Jeffrey, her former fiancé, she wasn’t good enough for him. He’d never said that out loud, but he’d shown it, loud and clear. Jeffrey hadn’t said a lot of things, but she’d found out so much about him too late. Never again would she be interested in a man who held everything inside or kept things from her.
Never.
But in her heart she knew she really hadn’t loved Jeffrey the way her mama and daddy had loved each other. She’d never loved him the way Alma loved Julien. She’d kind of stumbled upon Jeffrey and decided he’d make a perfect groom and a good husband.
Not. Maybe the brooding type wasn’t her type, after all.
Brenna saw Alma’s smile light up when her gaze settled on Julien, saw the way his grin went from happy to awestruck to humble with each step her beautiful sister took toward him.
I want that kind of love, she thought as she stood tall and held her head high. I want someone who will look at me the way Julien is looking at Alma right now.
Brenna glanced out into the crowd and locked eyes with a man sitting toward the back on the outside aisle, a man with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in what else—a dark suit.
Who’s the good-looking stranger? she wondered.
And why did he keep staring at her?
* * *
Who’s the looker? Nicholas Santiago wondered, his gaze lingering on the second bridesmaid on the left. The bridesmaid who looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else but here.
She had hair the color of the tallow tree leaves falling outside, a rich golden-hued auburn that only burned brighter against the creamy gold of her dress. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he’d guess they were a vivid green or maybe a vivid hazel. She shouted fire and heat, which probably meant she also liked a bit of drama.
Well, so did he.
But lately, he’d had too much drama. And coming to a sweet wedding simply because his new friend Callie Blanchard Moreau had invited him had seemed like a good idea when he rolled into town a few weeks ago. Now, Nick wasn’t so sure. Too many bad memories.
“Please come, Nicholas,” Callie had said. “Weddings are a good way to meet people. If you’re going to be here for a while, you need to meet everyone. And we’ll feed you. Alma insisted on cooking most of the food for her own wedding. You might even get a mention in Mr. Sonnier’s ‘Ain’t that Good’ column because he’ll be here covering the wedding to help promote Alma’s gumbo. You know, he’s helping her to mass-produce it and sell it all over Louisiana. She hopes to expand in the next couple of years.”
Callie was a talker, but the woman knew her flowers. And he’d need her help once he got the old Dubois estate, known around here as Fleur House, renovated for his picky client. They’d been good friends since he’d first come to Fleur a few months ago to check out the old antebellum mansion and purchase it for his secretive boss. Nicholas had remembered his mother’s birthday, and Callie had helped him wire some flowers to her back in Texas. After they’d talked about the renovations at Fleur House and how he needed help decorating it, Callie had mentioned one of her sisters was an art expert. And that the sister would be at the wedding, of course.
So here he was, being courteous, being neighborly, by attending a quaint little wedding in a simple little church on a crisp fall Friday night.
And a good thing, too. He really wanted Callie to introduce him to that fidgety, adorable redhead and he sure hoped she was the sister who knew her art.
* * *
Brenna checked her lipstick and turned to head back in to the reception. The church fellowship hall was beautiful. Callie had outdone herself with the fall theme. And irises everywhere. She must have forced those to bloom this time of year, or found some that rebloomed in the fall. Callie could do anything with flowers. She’d managed to make this big, plain white room turn into what looked like a fall garden.
Shaking her head, Brenna rounded a corner and ran smack into him. The one she’d named Tall, Dark and Dark.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He grabbed her by both arms, holding her steady while she stared up into those well...yes...dark eyes. “I should watch where I’m going.”
“I’m okay,” Brenna said, touching a hand to her upswept hairdo. “Nice reception, isn’t it?”
How dumb could she be? Did he actually care about the reception?
He gave her a once-over. “Very nice.”
Brenna hoped he didn’t notice the blush popping out over her freckles. She did not blush prettily.
“See you later maybe?” He waved a hand in the air and Brenna immediately noticed his expensive gold watch. So like Jeffrey’s.
That turned her off enough to start walking away. “I should get back.”
“Hey, don’t leave in such a hurry.”
He had a bit of an accent. Hispanic maybe. That would explain the hunky dark good looks.
She turned, smiled at him. What would it hurt to flirt with a nice-looking man? He wasn’t wearing a wedding ring and...neither was she. She needed to stay in practice, didn’t she? But she couldn’t find the courage to have her heart stomped again.
“I have bridesmaid duties.” She thought hard, but couldn’t remember exactly what those duties might be.
“Very important job,” he said, coming to stand with her while they gazed out on the crowded room. “The first being, of course, to stand around and look gorgeous?”
Brenna giggled. “You’re not serious, right? I mean that’s a line, isn’t it?”
He grinned and the brilliance of it sizzled the paint on the walls. “Did it work?”
Well, she was laughing. That was something new. But Brenna didn’t want to laugh. So no flirting, no laughing. And nothing left to say. Awkward.
“Oh, good, you two have finally met each other.” Callie twirled and pranced toward them. “Brenna, this is my friend Nicholas Santiago.” She smiled at him, then touched a hand on Brenna’s arm. “And this is my baby sister. I think I mentioned her to you. She’s home for a while from Baton Rouge.”
The man gave Brenna another one of those smoldering looks. “So you’re the little sister. Wow.”
“That’s me,” Brenna said, smelling a setup. “Wow. Nice to meet you, Nicholas.”
“Nick,” he said, taking Brenna’s hand. “I was about to introduce myself. Once we got out on the dance floor.”
Brenna bristled. “I didn’t say I’d dance with you.”
