Rachel chuckled along with everyone else, not so much fatigued now as sleepily sated. The food was excellent, and the company was enjoyable. She savored her chicken fajitas while Lilah confessed her top-ten list of things she worried would go wrong at the wedding. They swapped humorous tales of faux pas they’d witnessed, including the ceremony David and Rachel had attended early in their own marriage where the bride’s veil had been singed during the lighting of the unity candle—particularly ironic since her groom, the one responsible, was a fireman.
“I remember your wedding,” Tanner said, smiling at Rachel and David. “Flawless. The two of you are so organized, so perfect together.”
Rachel squirmed in her chair, startled when David took her hand, his fingers caressing hers briefly.
“Rach deserves the credit for that. The ceremony was at her family’s church, and she took care of all the details.”
“What was it like?” Lilah asked, snuggled against her fiancé’s shoulder.
“It was raining that day,” Tanner began.
“Which is supposed to be lucky,” Rachel interjected, “but I’ve never understood how people risk having outdoor weddings.”
“The storm let up during the ceremony. We all went outside to wait and throw birdseed as they got in their limo.” Tanner’s face grew more animated as he described the scene for Lilah. “I kid you not, just as they emerged on the church steps, the sun broke through the clouds and a rainbow appeared over their car. You can see it in some of the wedding photos. It was like they were driving off into their own Hollywood ending.”
Rachel bit her bottom lip. Hollywood ending? If they weren’t careful, it would be more like a tragic independent film with a depressing soundtrack.
“I don’t remember the rainbow,” David admitted. He was responding to Tanner’s story but staring into Rachel’s eyes. “I barely remember anything about the day, except how beautiful you looked, watching you walk down that aisle toward me and knowing I couldn’t possibly deserve you.”
The golden boy of Mistletoe not deserve her? But his aquamarine eyes radiated so much sincerity she couldn’t think straight. “David …”
“I know, I know. I’m giving them a run for their nauseating and mushy title. I should stop.” He managed to tear his gaze away, his voice more composed when he glanced at Tanner and Lilah. “If poor Ari were here, she wouldn’t be able to keep down her food. Thanks, though.”
Tanner raised an eyebrow. “For?”
“Reminding me of that day, how lucky I was. The wedding goes fast. All those months of planning, and then it turns out to be this blur. Try to hang on to it. Keep those memories, and don’t ever take each other for granted.”
Lilah’s gaze was watery. “If you’re making me cry now, I can just imagine the damage you’ll do during the toast!”
“Wear waterproof mascara,” Rachel suggested. “That’s my plan.” For getting through the ceremony, anyway. She was no longer certain how she was going to make it beyond that. When David said things that were so sweet and devoted, it was hard to remember why she’d ever believed they should be apart.
THE BABY book Rachel had retrieved from the very back of her closet warned that pregnant women were prone to vivid dreams, something to do with estrogen fluctuations and their effect on REM sleep. The book also assured mothers-to-be that in a time as emotional as pregnancy, nightmares were common and shouldn’t be taken as omens that something was wrong. Rachel was not having nightmares, though.
Far from it.
Saturday night, after the drive back to Mistletoe in the intimate dark of early evening, her husband’s body so close to hers in the cramped backseat that she could feel his heat through her clothes, David had stayed on her mind long after she’d fallen asleep. She’d awakened in the middle of the night from embarrassingly detailed erotic dreams, tangled in sweaty sheets with her body still throbbing in pleasure. Sunday night had brought more of the same, dreams that haunted her thoughts while she got ready for work on Monday. It was difficult to focus on something as mundane as mailing labels when, at random moments, she’d reexperience the slide of David’s muscled body against hers.
During the middle of one such flashback that afternoon, she tugged at the collar of her sweater, suddenly feeling as if it was about ten degrees too warm in here. Good thing May had run to the bank with the afternoon deposit, or Rachel would be fielding questions about her clearly flustered state.
She was jarred back to reality by an insistent buzzing, a printer alarm that signaled a jam. Bending her knees, she squatted down to correct the situation. With a little effort, she wrestled the crumpled papers free and hit Continue. The cranky printer claimed the next two sheets as sacrifice, eating them, as well. Swearing softly, she turned the machine off, then back on, waiting for a blinking green light before she tried again. The first page had just printed successfully when she heard the front door open.
“Hello,” she called, standing to greet a potential customer. “I’ll be right—” Tunnel vision pressed in around her, darkening rapidly to no vision whatsoever as her head went balloon-light and floaty. She thought she managed to squeak out a final word, though she wasn’t sure what, before she fell.
When she came to, Rachel was too disoriented to know how much time had passed. She was on the floor by the industrial printers, her feet propped on a carton full of paper. May was fanning her with a spiral notebook, worry pinching her face as she spoke into the phone cradled at her shoulder.
“Oh, you’re awake! Thank God. David, she’s awake.”
Rachel blinked, still dizzy.
“You want something to drink, sweetie? Maybe I should get you a glass of water. Here, you can talk to David.”
Rachel didn’t feel much like talking to anyone, but she was too dazed to do anything but accept the phone pressed into her hand. “H-hello?”
“You stay right there,” David said, his voice taut with concern. “I’m on my way.”
Her thoughts began to clear enough for a twinge of humor. He wanted her to stay exactly where she was? “You don’t have to …”
“Rach, I’m coming over. It’s nonnegotiable. See you in a minute.”
Then she was left with only a dial tone as May fussed about what to do next. “You probably shouldn’t lift your head to drink, but I can’t find a straw. Am I supposed to have you breathe into a paper bag?”
That didn’t sound right. “I think for fainting, it’s supposed to be head between the knees.” Although it was probably too late for that in her case. Rachel swallowed, taking stock to see if she was hurt and whether her heart rate was normal. “Really, I think I’m okay.”
May continued wringing her hands as Rachel sipped the cool water. “You scared the dickens out of me. I walked in the door, you popped up from behind the counter, then just crashed over like a tree. All that was missing was someone to yell Timber! It took ten years off my life when I couldn’t get you to answer me.”
“Sorry. Was I out long?”
“Nah, just a moment or two. Felt like more when I was panicking. I probably should have called 911, but I dialed David over at the store without thinking.”
“No, I’m glad you didn’t call 911,” Rachel said. As it was, she was already mortified. “I’m fine now.”
She was fine. A horrible thought struck her, making her tremble with sick apprehension. Was the baby okay? Falling couldn’t be good for the pregnancy. She didn’t have long to obsess over that, however, before David burst into the shop.
“Rachel!”
May stood, waving at him. “Back here.”
He rounded the counter at top speed, his gaze frantic and his skin ashen.
Rachel was stunned. He looks worse than I do. At least, he looked worse than she imagined she did.
Kneeling next to her, he cupped her face in his large hands, his touch infinitely tender. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just stood up too fast. But—” She broke off, scared to put her fears into words.
“I called Dr. McDermott’s office and told them I was bringing you in. She didn’t hit her head or anything when she fell, did she?” he asked May.
“Not really, just toppled over.” May sent another agitated glance toward her only full-time employee, trying her best to look jovial. “You go with the big guy here and let him pamper you for the rest of the day, okay?”
Rachel braced herself to stand, but David had already slid his arms around her.
“I’ve got you,” he said.
“I can—” She lost her words as he scooped her against him.
Mmm, nice. She was reminded of their wedding night, when he’d carried her over the threshold of their hotel room, kicking the door shut behind him and not stopping until he’d reached the four-poster bed. She thought about pointing out that being pressed against him was not helping her light-headed condition, but by then they’d reached his car, and he had to set her on her unsteady feet to open the door for her.
“I feel very silly about this,” she said as she buckled her seat belt.