Kaleidoscope (Colorado Mountain #6)(119)
I watched, deep breathing, as Jacob pulled it out, set the box aside and turned it around in his hands like it was the world’s most precious entity.
And this time, unlike the last, I knew.
I’d had glorious months and months of knowing that those hands moving on me made me feel l just as precious.
“Do you like it?” I whispered, and his eyes shot to mine.
He said nothing.
He didn’t have to.
Staring into his eyes, they said it all.
My breath hitched.
“You best go back to your mother, honey,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” I agreed softly.
Neither of us moved.
“Go, Emme, or the wedding’s gonna be delayed an indefinite amount of time and your hair is not gonna look like that when you stand up in the sanctuary,” he stated.
My hair was in an elegant updo à la Dominic (another Mom decree). It took two hours to achieve.
Mom’s head would likely split down the middle if I had sex hair for my wedding.
In other words, that got me moving.
I nodded but I couldn’t help it. Not in that moment. Not because, in five minutes, we were about to begin building our lives legally, spiritually, emotionally and indelibly connected.
Not after the way Jacob had just looked at me.
So I took my chances, leaned into him, put a hand on his chest, got up on my toes and tipped back my head.
Jacob didn’t touch me but he did bend his neck and give me his mouth.
I pressed my lips to his.
His tongue slid out, my mouth opened, and he gave me a light stroke that felt amazing and tasted unbelievably sweet.
When he was done, against my lips, he whispered, “Go, baby.”
I nodded, my nose sliding against his as I did, and pulled back. I gave him a trembling smile and headed to the door.
“Emmanuelle?” he called when I had my hand on the knob.
I turned to him.
“When we get to the Brown Palace tonight and you see the box the staff are putting on your nightstand for me, I’ll tell you the story about how I tracked down an old guy and told him what I wanted. I’ll also tell you how, until about two minutes ago, I thought he was a total whackjob when he laughed for five minutes before agreeing to make you a kaleidoscope and insisting on doing it for free.”
My hand went from the knob to lay flat on the door as my knees went weak, my heart slid into my throat and the vision of Jacob started swimming.
“Go, baby,” Jacob urged gently.
Hearing his gentle words, seeing his tall frame, it would only be Jacob who could look beautiful even through tears.
“I really, really, really like you, Jacob Decker,” I whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back.
The smile I sent him was seriously trembling before I dashed out the door.
* * *
Deck
Putting the kaleidoscope to his eye, pointing it at the window, Deck turned the dials and his vision was accosted with nothing but beauty.
It was extraordinary to witness.
But by then he was used to it as he had it every day.
As the lights and colors danced, he heard a sharp knock on the door before he heard Chace calling, “Deck. It’s time.”
Deck watched the miraculous dance Emme gave him another long moment before he took the kaleidoscope from his eye, carefully laid it in its box and closed the lid.
He moved to the door and he did this ignoring Chace grinning huge at the box.
He didn’t have time for that shit.
It was time to marry his Emme.
* * *
Harvey
Three years, two months later…
Harvey Feldman moved through the grocery store, his mind on other things, so when he found himself in the aisle with the magazines, an aisle he never needed anything in, he was surprised.
This was happening with more and more frequency.
Then again, he was getting old.
He focused on his list then started moving down the aisle quickly in order to get what he needed and get home.
Now focused, it was a flat miracle that he turned his head and his attention caught on something he would never normally look at, and even if he did, he wouldn’t see.
But since it was a miracle, he saw it.
A magazine on architecture, the cover an aerial shot of a very large home in the mountains with a sweeping front drive, a gracious pool to the left and a lush terraced garden at the back.
At the top of the sidebar, the magazine noted, “Mountain Gem Restored: How the Canard Mansion was brought back to life.”
Harvey stopped and stared at the picture, the words, then he snatched up the magazine, threw it in his cart and whizzed through the aisles, getting the bare necessities, paying for them and getting home.
He left the groceries in the car and took only the magazine with him when he went into his house. He didn’t delay in sitting at his kitchen table and flipping it open, slapping page after page aside until he stopped and caught his breath.
Slowly now, with utter care, he moved through the pages of the article.
Then he went back.
Then he flipped the pages again, slower, studying the pictures.
And finally, he allowed himself to go back.
The title of the article and photo spread was at the top of a full-color, full-page picture. But Harvey didn’t look at the title.
Instead, he looked at the picture of the man, woman, child and dogs standing among the gleaming wood and dazzling crystal of an extraordinary, regal entryway.