Blueprint for a Wedding. Melissa McClone

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      Her indifference didn’t sway him. “I know you from somewhere. It’s going to come to me.”

      A squirrel scampered through the overgrown yard. Frank barked, stood on all fours and trotted toward them.

      The woman gasped and grabbed hold of Gabe. Her sunglasses flew off. Her hat fell back and long, wavy brown hair cascaded down. She buried her face against him.

      He pulled her close. He liked the way she felt in his arms, probably more than he should, but he didn’t like the way she trembled; it was worse than one of those Chihuahuas Frank could use as a squeak toy.

      “Sit.”

      Frank obeyed. The action made the time and money of puppy kindergarten and dog-obedience training worth it.

      “On the porch. Now.”

      The dog loped his way to the front of the house.

      Gabe continued to hold the woman, waiting for the rapid beating of her heart to slow. Finally it did. “You okay?”

      She didn’t say a word, but clung to him. It was nice. Though he wished it were under different circumstances. Say, mouth-watering attraction rather than overwhelming fear.

      “It’s okay if you aren’t,” he said. “I kind of like standing here with you in my arms. Doesn’t happen to a guy like me every day. Now every other day…”

      She laughed. He liked the sound.

      “What’s your name?” he asked.

      A slight hesitation. “Faith.”

      “Pretty name,” he said. “I’m Gabe. And we have a problem, Faith.”

      She tightened her grip. “Frank?”

      “He can be a problem, but no, we have another one. You can’t see from where you’re standing, but Mrs. Henry is peeking out of her miniblinds from across the street and she’s got her phone in her hand. She’s real tight with Mrs. Bishko and Mrs. Lloyd. The three of them like to keep the fine citizens of Berry Patch informed of all the happenings in town. I don’t need that and I doubt you do, either.”

      “Oh, no. That would be bad.” She backed out of his arms. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      The first thing he noticed was her hair. The color wasn’t simply brown, but oiled teak with copper highlights glimmering in the morning sun. Long strands hung over her face, and she flipped those behind her shoulders with a simple motion of her head.

      Gabe drew in a quick, sharp breath.

      They had never met, but he knew her. Knew all about her. Why hadn’t he recognized her immediately? She was, in a word, unforgettable.

      The full, kissable lips that curved into an easy smile at the drop of a pin and melted even the coldest heart. The soulful, expressive green eyes that saw everything and made a man question his worth. The wavy mane of chestnut hair meant for covering a pillow or a man’s chest. Oh, yeah, he knew exactly who she was. Just like every other person who went to the movies or breathed.

      “You’re the actress,” he said. “Faith Starr.”

      She looked away. “That’s my stage name.”

      Exactly. Faith was a movie star. One of the most beautiful people in the world. Famous, rich, important. Someone who did not belong here, and he’d asked her out to dinner. Still it would make a good story. Not many men in Berry Patch got the chance to be shot down by a famous actress. “Are they filming a movie around here?”

      Faith’s mouth drew tight. She put her baseball cap and sunglasses back on. “No.”

      Funny, but now that he knew who she was, Faith looked more like a famous person with those things on than off.

      “What brings you to Berry Patch?” Gabe asked.

      “A friend lives here.”

      He knew everyone in town. “Who is that?”

      “Henry Davenport.”

      “He’s a friend of mine, too,” Gabe said.

      She furrowed her brows. “You’re a friend of Henry’s?”

      “I know his wife.” Gabe knew what she was thinking. How could a contractor be the friend of a billionaire? “She’s my sister Theresa’s best friend.”

      The edges of Faith’s mouth curved upward in a slight smile. Her tension seemed to ease. “Henry Davenport married. I still can’t believe it. Husband. Father. Farmer. The Henry I knew wasn’t interested in anything but having a good time.”

      “Nothing wrong with having a good time.” That’s what Gabe had. One good time after another, but it wasn’t what he wanted. Not really. A part of him envied Henry. Not for all his money, but for what he’d found on the Wheeler Berry Farm. Years ago Gabe had thought he’d found the same thing—the woman of his dreams who wanted to raise a family in Berry Patch and live happily ever after. He’d been wrong. “But Henry and Elisabeth are perfect together.”

      “That’s what Henry told me.” Faith’s smile widened. The effect—dazzling. “I’m so happy for him. I can’t wait to meet his wife.”

      Faith’s happiness seemed genuine. Maybe there was more to her than her movie-goddess image. More than her reputation as a runaway bride and heartbreaker. As she stared at the wraparound porch where Frank lay, she narrowed her lips. Then again, maybe not.

      “Are you staying a few days?” Gabe asked.

      “Actually I plan to stay much longer.”

      Yeah, right. Someone like Faith would never last more than a couple weeks in this small, quiet town. A month at the most. She would get bored, long for the excitement of a big city and leave. The ambitious ones, women like his ex-wife, always did.

      “I’m going to like it here,” Faith added. “It’s a cute place.”

      “You haven’t been here when it rains. Cute wears off real fast.” Though a few nights at the cheesy hotel near Highway 99 or one of the homey, not-so-elegant B and Bs nearby would probably have the same effect. “Where are you staying?”

      “Here.”

      “Here?”

      She smiled. “I bought this house.”

      No.

      “Is your last name Addison?” he croaked out the words. “F. S. Addison?”

      “I’m Faith Starr Addison. Starr is my middle name and my mother’s name.” She drew her brows together. “How did you know?”

      He ignored the question. “You bought this house from Miss Larabee?”

      Faith nodded. “She’s so СКАЧАТЬ