Come Away with Me (With Me in Seattle, #1)(88)

“There you are!” I turn at Stacy’s excited voice and hug her tightly.

“Well, hello pretty girl! I told you when we bought it, that dress is a knockout.” I stand back and admire her beautiful white off the shoulder dress. It fits her body perfectly and she glows with happiness.

“Thank you. Yours is stunning too.”

Isaac pulls me into a hug. “Hey, brat.

Thanks for helping Stacy find that dress.

It’s torture. I have two more weeks before I can touch her and I think I’m going to die.”

We all laugh at his pained expression and I pat his cheek. “Poor boy. I think Sophie’s worth it.”

“Yeah,” his face transforms into a sweet smile. “She is. Hey, dance with me?”

I look up at Luke and he shrugs and turns to Stacy. “Do me the honor, beautiful?”

Stacy blushes bright red and takes his hand as he leads her onto the floor. I know how she feels, he’s a heart throb.

Isaac isn’t too bad himself. He’s tall and toned and tan, with dark blond hair and killer brown eyes. I had a crush on him for years.

“Are you having fun?” I ask him.

“Yeah, Stacy is especially, so I can’t complain. Luke’s a good guy. I wasn’t so sure about him at first, but I like him.”

“What brought that on?”

“Dad and I had a conversation with him the other day.”

“What?” Why didn’t I know about this?

“Yeah, you were working, and he invited all of us guys out for lunch.” He shrugs and smiles like he’s hiding something. I know Isaac. The man is like Fort Knox. If there’s a secret, he won’t spill it.

“Oh. He didn’t mention it.”

“Didn’t he?” he shrugs again, like it’s no big deal. “Well, my point is, I like him.”

“Wow, am I getting the big brother stamp of approval?” I widen my eyes and drop my jaw sarcastically.

“As long as he minds his manners, yes.”

“I like it when he doesn’t mind his manners.” I wink at him and laugh as he cringes.

“TMI. Jesus, I don’t want to know that. Are you happy?” He peers down at me, serious now, and I can’t help but feel loved.

“I am. He’s a good man, Isaac. He loves me. It’s not about what he does for a living, or what I’ve done in my past, or how much money either of us has. It’s about who I am when I’m with him.” I shrug, a bit embarrassed. “He makes me feel special.”

“Ah, Nat. You are special, honey, I’m just glad you finally figured it out. It’s a pleasure watching you fall in love.” We winks down at me. “Now, before I get too mushy, can you babysit one of these nights? I need some serious alone time with my wife.”

I laugh. “Sure, shall we say in two weeks?”

“Oh, God, yes. Thank you.”

***

As the evening draws to a close, Luke pulls me out on the dance floor for one final dance. My feet are killing me, but I can’t refuse him. I love swaying in his arms.

I realize that the band is playing Norah Jones’ Come Away With Me and I turn my startled gaze up to his. He’s smiling down at me tenderly.

“I do believe this is our song. You look as beautiful tonight as you did that night, in the vineyard, in these pearls.

You take my breath away, Natalie Grace Conner.”

Oh.

I feel the tears in my eyes, as I gaze up at him. I run my fingers through his soft blonde hair. “You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet, Luke Edward Williams.”

His eyes skim over my face as he moves me about the room. I swear, we’re the only two here and I don’t care who’s watching us.

He leans down and gently presses his cheek to mine. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“For what?” I whisper back.

“For being mine.”

***

When we reach Luke’s house he leads me inside and shuts the front door. He tugs my hand gently, pulling me into his arms.

“You were wonderful tonight. You charmed everyone,” he murmurs in my hair.

“I had a great time. Your family is wonderful.” I nuzzle his chest and inhale his sexy Luke scent.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us having the family here in the morning for brunch?”

“Of course. I’ll even help you cook.”

He chuckles. “Thank you for your service.”

“It’s a good cause. Let’s go to bed.”

I pull away but he stops me, his eyes suddenly serious.

“Not yet.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m more than okay. I have something to show you.”

“Oh, okay.”

He takes my hand in his and leads me through the room. He stops by the sound system and fires up his iPod and something bluesy and slow starts to pour out of the speakers. He leads us to the deck, opens the French door, and flips a switch and I gasp.

The deck has been transformed into soft and romantic. Bouquets of red roses with tiny white pearls tucked in the petals cover every surface. There are twinkling white lights strung back and forth, high along the ceiling of the space, and a small table is sitting by the loveseat with a bucket of ice and champagne and two glasses.