When Dreams Collide (2 page)

How would she manage to walk the length of the banquet room’s red carpeted aisle without tripping and landing on her butt, knowing that annoying man was standing at the front of the room, visualizing the pink panties hidden under her dress? And she didn’t doubt for a second that’s exactly what he would be doing.

*

Dusty MacFarland utilized every degree of his self-control to keep himself from looking back to spy on Susan. Had she headed off to check on the bride? Or were those stunning aqua blue eyes of hers watching him and Jeremy walking toward the banquet room?

Finally, they reached their destination, and Dusty couldn’t stand it a moment longer. He glanced back hoping to catch her staring at him. She was nowhere in sight. He could have sworn sparks flew for a moment in the cloakroom when he had his hands up her dress, but maybe she hadn’t found him attractive. The only ring on her finger was the one tangled in the hem of her voluminous skirt. She was definitely single. Always a good sign. Unless she was involved with someone, which would be just his luck.

Damn, he hadn’t met such a splendid example of womanhood in ages. She’d held her own when he’d questioned what he’d caught her doing in such an unorthodox place. And answered his teasing with equally witty quips. The image of those pink panties and her long shapely legs was burned into his brain forever, and he quickly adjusted his trousers to accommodate his body’s reaction to that memory. He’d never met a woman who turned him on so thoroughly and so quickly, both physically and emotionally, as Susan.

And here he’d thought this wedding would bore him to tears.

“Okay, man, I’m ready. June 30th is going to be my favorite day for the rest of my life. I can’t wait to tie the knot with Amanda,” said Jeremy. “Hey, man, you should find yourself a wife of your own. I highly recommend it.”

“Yeah, right. What’s that old adage about ‘misery loving company’ or something like that?” teased Dusty, checking in his pocket for the wedding rings, knowing if he lost them Jeremy would have his left one. And he didn’t mean ear.

You should find yourself a wife of your own.
Jeremy’s words echoed in his head. For a brief moment, Dusty imagined himself married to Susan Sanders. The image of her sitting across from him at the kitchen table every morning brought an unexpected smile to his face.

A wife. Had he just met the most likely candidate for the position a few minutes ago in the poorly-lit cloakroom? First, he had another project in mind for Ms. Sanders. If that collaboration proved successful, then marriage might be a possibility. But only if he could convince her to help him.

“Nothing I like better than a challenge,” he whispered aloud, as he accompanied the groom around the perimeter of the room to where the minister and best man stood waiting.

*

“Where on earth have you been?” demanded Amanda, patting her veil’s headpiece with long slim fingers. She wore a heavily-beaded ivory silk empire-waist gown to accommodate the five months baby bump. A lacy veil covered her dark curly hair, and her hazel eyes popped with artfully applied makeup.

Susan stood, gaping. A year and a half ago, when Amanda lay in bed fighting for her life, her body ravaged by the chemo treatments following surgery, Susan had despaired ever seeing her friend in a wedding gown about to be married. Her eyes welled with tears as she whispered, “You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. Totally, unequivocally, gorgeous.”

“Thank you so much. Mom just left to be escorted to her seat before the ceremony started.” Amanda smiled and slowly turned for the full effect. “Do you think Jeremy will approve?”

“Approve? I hope one of your guests knows CPR. Someone is going to have to start his heart again,” teased Susan, peeking into the wall mirror to check her appearance a final time.

Aside from a slightly flushed face—and she knew whose fault that was—she looked fine. But dozens of butterflies inhabited her tummy, and she swallowed hard. She excelled in her position as bank manger for the Helena branch of the Ellis Bank, but the thought of being the first to walk up the carpeted aisle with dozens of eyes on her scared her silly.

“Are you okay, Susan?” inquired the matron of honor. Catherine Branigan was married to Jeremy’s brother David and the mother of four-month old twin boys. “Don’t tell me the unflappable Susan Sanders is succumbing to a serious case of nerves?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Susan grimaced. “If I recounted everything I’ve been through since I left this room, you’d never believe me.”

“Oh no! Was there a problem? What happened?” Amanda’s smile faded, replaced by an expression of sheer terror. “Did the minister not show up?”

“Nothing’s wrong. The minister’s here. And the groom and the best man. Even that Dusty MacFarland guy showed up.” Susan managed to smile in spite of her nerves. “Everyone is just waiting for the bride.”

“Oh my God, am I late?” Amanda peeked at her watch.

“For heaven’s sake, Amanda.” Catherine swatted her hand. “You’re wearing a watch on your wedding day! A bride is expected to be late. The slowpokes don’t miss anything, and they don’t feel badly about interrupting an ‘I do’.”

Amanda sighed. “Thank goodness, I hate being late.”

“Worked out okay a few months ago when you told Jeremy you were ‘late’.” Catherine burst out laughing when Amanda’s mouth dropped open.

“Enough teasing. Let’s get this over with so we can party,” shouted Susan.

“I’m still breast feeding,” observed Catherine, shaking out the billowing skirt on her dress identical to Susan’s. “No alcohol for me.”

“And I’m pregnant,” added Amanda, taking a deep breath and pulling her shoulders back. “We ordered a case of sparkling cider specifically for Catherine and me.”

“Hanging out with you guys used to be a lot more fun.” Susan shook her head.

“Get married.” Amanda and Catherine spoke in unison and then burst out laughing.

Susan wouldn’t admit it, but since she encountered the handsome Mr. Dusty MacFarland in the cloakroom, she’d been fantasizing along those same lines. She could see herself waking up every morning beside that hunky body with the gorgeous brown eyes and killer smile.

“Let’s get Amanda hitched first, okay?” Susan strode toward the door.

Catherine handed Amanda her huge bridal bouquet overflowing with white orchids and teal-tipped white roses before they followed on Susan’s heels.

Amanda’s father stood in his tux, smiling broadly, patiently waiting in the hallway. “You look absolutely stunning, my beauty,” he whispered.

“Thanks, Dad.” Amanda pecked her father’s cheek and flashed Susan and Catherine a thumbs-up sign. “Now remember to walk slowly so everyone can admire those beautiful dresses.”

“Love you, girl,” whispered Susan.

“In a few minutes I’ll get my wish, and you’ll become my sister-in-law,” added Catherine.

“Stop it, you guys. I’ll start crying and ruin my makeup,” scolded Amanda, beaming. She hooked her hand around her father’s arm, and whispered, “Show time, Dad.”

Susan closed her eyes for a second, recalling in her mind exactly how the room appeared. She, Catherine, Amanda and several cousins had turned the cold, boring banquet hall into a magical world. A multitude of tiny white fairy lights covered the entire ceiling, serving as the sole illumination as the bride and her attendants entered the room. Huge bouquets of multi-colored summer flowers occupied the buffet tables and the floor area designated for the official ceremony. Teal streamers hung in scallops across the ceiling and matching bows were tied to each chair back. Lit candles sat atop pristine tablecloths, providing a mesmerizing glow for added atmosphere.

Susan opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

The moment she entered the banquet room, two hundred guests rose to their feet. She silently coached herself as she slowly walked up the wide strip of red carpeting.
Don’t look at Dusty. Don’t look at Dusty. Whatever you do...don’t look at Dusty
.

Soft classical music played while Susan, Catherine, and then Amanda and her dad made their way toward the archway where the minister stood with the groom and his attendants. Finally, Susan arrived at her designated spot up front. Her greatest fear—tripping, her skirt flying over her head, providing the entire room with a view of her now infamous pink panties—hadn’t happened. She whispered a silent prayer of thanks.

An appreciative murmur from the guests moved through the room as the bride entered and walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. What a picture the bride made. Her dark hair contrasted with her ivory dress and white bouquet, and her radiant smile signified her happiness.

The ceremony passed in a haze for Susan. The stern coaching she’d given herself was forgotten the second she glanced over at the groom’s attendants. When Dusty caught her staring at him, he winked at her. She felt her face redden, and she almost dropped her bouquet. Darn him anyway. She felt like a ditzy schoolgirl, experiencing her first crush. What the heck was wrong with her?

The ceremony concluded with the traditional kiss. The beaming bride and groom walked down the carpeted aisle and exited the room to form a receiving line in the hallway. David and Catherine followed, and Dusty linked arms with Susan as they trailed behind them.

When they reached their places in the receiving line, Dusty leaned in and whispered something in her ear. The intoxicating aroma of his aftershave shut down her senses. She looked deep into his eyes. The sudden sparkle she saw there surprised her, and she wondered what had captured his interest?

“What did you say?” she asked, too stunned by his closeness to pay attention to his words.

“Could I meet with you at your bank on Monday morning?”

“Why?” she blurted.

“I need to discuss something important with you,” he explained, his expression hopeful.

“Um, um, sure,” she stammered, taken aback by his totally unexpected request. “Would ten thirty work for you?”

“Ten thirty would be perfect.” Dusty beamed.

Susan gaped as she silently asked herself one question. What the heck was Dusty MacFarland up to?

Chapter 2

Susan glanced up at Jeremy, dancing a two-step with the handsome groom. She’d never enjoyed a wedding reception so much. “This country band you hired at the last minute is really good.”

“The first cousin of one of our neighbors knew someone. But these guys sound awesome.” Jeremy twirled her around the floor and then passed her back to Dusty.

“Treat her right, cowboy.” Jeremy slapped his buddy on the shoulder.

Dusty glared at his best friend, whispered something in his ear that she didn’t catch, and Jeremy laughed.

“Hello again, darling,” whispered Dusty in her ear as the band ended the two-step and started right into a waltz.

Susan had already danced twice with the groom and once with the best man, but she preferred dancing with Dusty. Being back in his arms felt like coming home, safe and comfortable. They moved together like seasoned dance partners seldom missing a step. His hands moved lower, lingered on her waist. Of their own accord, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she felt cherished in his embrace.

“You are a wonderful dancer, Mr. MacFarland. I’m impressed.” If she’d questioned whether or not he felt an attraction to her, the evidence pressed against her while they waltzed plastered together, eliminating any further speculation.

When the band stopped for another break, Dusty and Susan continued discussing shared topics of interest: ranching, horses, hiking, camping, and banking. Yes, even banking. He’d stunned her when he initiated a discussion about the current stock market trends and investments. She considered the possibility he’d brushed up on Stock Market 101 just to impress people, although she couldn’t imagine why. He probably hadn’t a clue about the facts and statistics he spouted, but he certainly could talk the talk. Mesmerized by the deep voice resonating in his chest, she smiled. That voice could convince any woman to purchase a seaside cottage in Nevada.

They danced every dance together the rest of the night. And all too soon the band stopped playing and packed up their instruments. When the hotel staff herded the last hangers-on out of the banquet room, a dozen wedding guests, including Dusty and Susan, headed for the lounge to continue the party.

At five a.m., the lounge closed.

“Steer ush in the direct shun of home, darlin’,” mumbled Dusty, slurring his words slightly.

“I think home is this-a-way, cowboy.”

Together, Dusty and Susan stumbled down the hallway to the row of elevators. They rode to the third floor while tightly wrapped in each other’s arms. They took two attempts at exiting the elevator while still plastered together, and then Dusty escorted her to her hotel room door.

“Thank shou for a wonnerful time.”

“You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself immensely.” Susan attempted to focus on his handsome face.

And then he curled her toes with a breathtaking goodnight kiss.

Dusty watched while she opened her door and stepped across the threshold.

“Shee you in the morning,” he called over his shoulder as he maneuvered his way down the hallway.

Susan peeked out of the doorway and watched him head to his own room apparently situated three doors down on the right.

The gorgeous man had embarrassed her, tormented her, and teased her since the moment she met him. He’d aggravated her even further by leaving her at her door, breathing heavily and totally turned on.

She had a weakness for cowboys. She’d pass up a guy in a suit and tie any day for a handsome hunk of manhood dressed in jeans, a plaid shirt, and a Stetson. A cowboy in a tux and cowboy boots wasn’t bad either. She reminded herself they had only met a few hours ago, but at the moment, her libido couldn’t recall a single reason why that mattered.

Sighing, she closed and locked her hotel room door.

Surely, Dusty didn’t consider her off limits because of her friendship with Amanda. Or was he being a true gentleman? Living his life by an old-fashioned moral code, never sleeping with a woman he’d only met a few hours before, lacy pink panties or not?