First Star I See Tonight (Chicago Stars #8) - Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page 0,125

would work.

Jonah came up to him. “You want me and the boys to go get her?”

Coop was so tempted, but he shook his head. “She has to do this on her own.”

“Risky, boss. Very risky.”

Nothing he didn’t already know.

Six o’clock arrived. The doomsday hour. Everyone had appeared. Everyone except the bride. He was crazy to have given her an ultimatum. Nobody liked being backed into a corner, but that went triple for Piper Dove.

Another five minutes passed. Then ten more. He’d have to go out on the terrace soon and make the humiliating announcement that the wedding was off.

Just then, the elevator doors opened, and there she was.

She wore a stricken expression and a short lace off-the-shoulder dress that she’d probably bought at H&M and that reminded him of vanilla cake frosting. She’d pulled her hair away from her face with a narrow rhinestone headband that showcased her cheekbones. Every inch of her was perfection. Except for those big blue eyes, which were as close to terrified as he’d ever seen.

He was at her side in three long strides. As she gazed up at him, he saw something he’d never imagined. Something so inconceivable, he thought it was a trick of the light. But it was no trick. Piper Dove’s eyes were brimming with tears.

The sight made his own eyes sting, and he clasped her hands. “Babe . . .”

She looked up at him, a single, beautiful tear caught on her bottom lashes. “I’m scared.”

He’d never loved her more than at that moment. As crazy as this was, they were doing the right thing. “I know you are.” He kissed the corners of her eyes. Tasted the salt. Understood what it cost her to reveal so much.

“You aren’t scared?” she said.

“Not now. But a couple of minutes ago . . . You don’t want to know.”

Her glossy lips trembled. “You were afraid I wouldn’t show up.”

“Terrified.”

“I couldn’t do that to you. I love you too much.”

The swelling in his throat made his voice husky. “I can see that. Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”

She pressed her palms to the lapels of his suit coat. “I don’t know anything about being a wife. Are you sure about this?”

“Sixty percent.”

That made her smile, the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, a smile so beloved he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “How about this for a plan?” He brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth. “Once we get through the next couple of hours, we’ll pretend tonight never happened. We’ll live together, go about our lives, and never mention the word marriage again.”

She beamed up at him. “You’d do that for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, then.”

He took her hand and slipped it through his bent elbow. “Pretend it’s a bad dream.”

“Not bad at all,” he thought he heard her whisper.

He led her across the living room to the terrace door. Together, they stepped out into his fairyland of a rooftop garden.

A softly glimmering crystal chandelier hung from the center of a white canopy swagged with dozens of strands of twinkle lights. Flowers in big gold urns showcased all the colors of fall: plum dahlias, burgundy roses, green hydrangeas, and orange calla lilies. The guests, seated in gilded Chiavari chairs, turned as they entered, and he heard more than one sigh of relief followed by a piercing wolf whistle from Jonah. Piper managed a wobbly smile. He’d flown Amber in on a private plane from Houston as a surprise. She waved at Piper and began to sing “Come Away with Me” in her exquisite coloratura soprano.

Twists of brown and mulberry velvet ribbons marked the makeshift aisle, and the chandelier made her rhinestone headband glitter in her dark hair. She was so caught up in Amber’s solo that she didn’t notice who waited for them at the front of the aisle, not until the final chorus faded and he began to lead her forward.

Her fingers dug into his arm. “You didn’t!” she whispered.

“We needed somebody to marry us,” he whispered back.

“But . . .”

The last notes of the song faded away. He cupped his hand over hers as it rested in the crook of his arm and led her the rest of the way down the aisle to the place where Phoebe Somerville Calebow, the owner of the Chicago Stars, waited to marry them.

***

“I warned you from the beginning that I’m a user,” Piper told her husband that night as she lay in his arms, all woozy and satiated from their