look when you hold a camera, or hunch at the computer. I have dozens of images, pictures, and moments of you in my head. In my heart. I want a lifetime more. Marry me.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.” He drew her to him, held on. “She said yes. Let’s get married in June.”
She pulled back. “June? We’re booked solid. That’s—” When he grinned, she narrowed her eyes. “You’re a funny guy, Carter.”
Laughing, he wrapped his arms around her once more. “I’ll take the first open date, if that suits you.”
“That’s a deal. Speaking for my partners, let me say Vows is thrilled to provide its services, and promises to give you a perfect wedding.”
“I’ve got you. It’s already perfect.”
She held him, strong and close, through the kiss. Then she laid her head on his shoulder with a sigh.
From the bookshelf their faces smiled out at her. Moments came and went, she thought. It was love that bound them together into a life.
She had love.
KEEP READING FOR A SPECIAL PREVIEW OF THE NEXT BOOK IN THE BRIDE QUARTET BY NORA ROBERTS
BED of ROSES
COMING IN DECEMBER 2009 FROM BERKLEY BOOKS
SINCE DETAILS CROWDED HER MIND, MANY OF THEM BLURRY, Emma checked her appointment book over her first cup of coffee. The back-to-back consults gave her nearly as much of a boost as the strong, sweet brew. Basking in it, she leaned back in the chair in her cozy office to read over the side notes she’d added to the entries for each client.
In her experience, the personality of the couple—or often, more accurately, of the bride—helped her determine the tone of the consult, the direction they’d pursue. To Emma’s way of thinking, flowers were the heart of a wedding. Whether they were elegant or fun, elaborate or simple, the flowers were the romance.
It was her job to give the client all the heart and romance they desired.
She sighed, stretched, then smiled at the vase of petite roses on her desk. Spring, she thought, was the best. The wedding season kicked into full gear—which meant busy days and long nights designing, arranging, creating, not only for this spring’s weddings, but the next as well.
She loved the continuity as much as the work itself.
That’s what Vows had given her and her three best friends. Continuity, rewarding work, and that sense of personal accomplishment. And she got to play with flowers, live with flowers, practically swim in flowers every day.
Thoughtfully, she examined her hands, the little nicks and tiny cuts. Some days she thought of them as battle scars and others as medals of honor. This morning she just wished she’d remembered to fit in a manicure.
She glanced at the time, calculated. Boosted again, she sprang up. Detouring into her bedroom, she grabbed a scarlet hoodie to zip over her pjs. There was time to walk to the main house before she dressed and prepared for the day. At the main house Mrs. Grady would have breakfast, so Emma wouldn’t have to forage or cook for herself.
Her life, she thought as she jogged downstairs, brimmed with lovely perks.
She passed through the living room she used as a reception and consult area, and took a quick scan around as she headed for the door. She’d freshen up the flowers on display before the first meeting, but oh, hadn’t those stargazer lilies opened beautifully?
She stepped out of what had been a guest house on the Brown Estate and was now her home, and the base for Centerpiece—her part of Vows.
She took a deep breath of spring air. And shivered.
Damn it, why couldn’t it be warmer? It was April, for God’s sake. It was daffodil time. Look how cheerful the pansies she’d potted up were. She refused to let a chilly morning—and, okay, it was staring to drizzle on top of it—spoil her mood.
She hunched inside the hoodie, stuck the hand not holding her coffee mug in her pocket, and began to walk to the main house.
Things were coming back to life all around her, she reminded herself. If you looked closely enough you could see the promise of green on the trees, the hint of what would be delicate blooms of dogwood and cherry blossoms. Those daffodils wanted to pop, and the crocuses already had. Maybe there’d be another spring snow, but the worst was over.
Soon it would be time to dig in the dirt, to bring some of her beauties out of the greenhouse and put them on display. She added the bouquets, the swags and garlands, but nothing beat Mother