Becky Doughty [Unknown] - Gia & the Blast from the Past

Gia

&

The Blast from the Past

The Gustafson Girls

Book 4

BECKY DOUGHTY

BRAVEHEARTS PRESS

Copyright 2017 Becky Doughty

Gia & the Blast from the Past

The Gustafson Girls Book 4

All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual names, characters, places, actual events or people, living or dead, are purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

First published in the United States of America by BraveHearts Press

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Author Information: www.BeckyDoughty.com

Gia & the Blast from the Past

Table of Contents

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Sisters...

Rare treasures, indeed.

Gia stood in the hushed foyer , dressed in apple green and carrying a button bouquet of peach roses and paper-petaled Bells of Ireland. Beside her, Ricky stood tall and nervous in his dark suit with the slim fit pants that made him look rather debonair. But when he grinned down at herto her surprise, even in her strappy heels, he still had a good couple of inches on hershe released the breath she'd been holding, and slipped her hand into the crook of his proffered arm.

Just in front of them, Renata and Tim waited in silence for their cue, but Tim's large hand curled affectionately around his wife's where it rested on his forearm. The dreamy smile on Ren's face as she glanced up at her man gave away her thoughts; Gia was certain her older sister was remembering her own wedding only six months earlier.

Behind Gia and Ricky, Phoebe and Trevor whispered words too soft to catch, but Gia knew the things they said to each other were tender, and knowing Phebes, probably a little trashy, too, and full of promises of their own.

At the back of the entourage, the matron of honor and Juliette's best friend forever, Sharon Scoville, tended to the bride's every need. She straightened her train for the umpteenth time, checked that her shiny black curls cascaded exquisitely down her back beneath the sheer sweep of her veil, and that her bouquet of French Lavender, Lily of the Valley, Bells of Ireland, and the same peach-hued Sweet Juliet roses were clutched low at her waist so the intricately-beaded neckline of her bodice wouldn't be obscured. And of course, Gramps, eyes glistening with tears that would soon spill over as he made his way up the aisle with his eldest granddaughter on his arm, stood in for Papa. His back was still strong, and his shoulders remained broad enough to bear the burdens and joys of each one of his Gustafson girls.

The gentle strains of Canon in D wafted from inside the sanctuary, making Gia smile. Her oldest sister and soon-to-be brother in law were two peas in a pod with their old fashioned church wedding, complete with classic wedding songs and traditional vows. Even Trevor's special number he'd written to sing during the lighting of their oh-so-traditional Unity Candle, although heart-wrenching and poignant, resonated with ageless beauty, as though surely, it had been part of a hundred million weddings before today.

Juliette and Vic. For a thousand years and a thousand more. Until the end of time. Gia knew it as certainly as she knew the sun would rise in the east and set in the west tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. They were each other's forever.

She darted a glance up at Ricky. Was he her forever? Would the two of them one day stand at opposite ends of a church aisle, waiting to be joined together before family and friends and God? Oh, how she loved him, she readily acknowledged. Every cell in her body thrummed with joyful contentment when Ricky was near. Her laughter came quickly, her smiles easy, her sorrows and frustrations handed into his care without hesitation, and she knew he felt the same about her. She couldn't remember her past before he was a part of it; she couldn't imagine a future without him in it.

And yet...

A wave of unexpected melancholy swept through her, and she hugged his arm to her side and leaned her head against his shoulder. She turned her face toward his chest so she could breathe in the heady scent of dark chocolate and cedar notes. It was a cologne she'd given him for his sixteenth birthday, one she knew he wore because she loved it so much.

"Are you sniffing me?" Ricky murmured into her hair. He rested his cheek against the top of her head.

"Why, yes. Yes, I am," she giggled, straightening slowly lest she leave a smudge of face powder on his charcoal lapel. "And I must say, you smell delicious. Good enough to take a bite of." She made a low throaty "meow" at him and then snorted at how ridiculous it sounded. She couldn't pull off sexy even if she wanted to.

But Ricky gave her a slow smile, and he dipped his head toward her, dropping his voice so the others in the room couldn't hear him. "You know what? I think you'd like that. I think I might like that, too."

Gia's heart skidded to a standstill at the way he looked at her. He was teasing her, she knew, but she'd seen the shift in his eyes more and more in the last year, a growing awareness of her on a whole new level. She'd catch him staring at her from across the room, studying her mouth as she spoke, as she ate, making her just the slightest bit self conscious, a brand new sensation where Ricky was concerned. And it seemed the more flustered she got, the more confident he became.

Not that she minded. She kind of liked the way her skin flushed under his heated gaze. She kind of liked imagining what he was thinking when his eyes darkened and his lips parted just the slightest bit. She liked the way he couldn't seem to stop touching her--toying with the copper curls that framed her face, stroking the back of her hand when it rested close to his, pressing the length of his thigh against hers whenever they sat side by side. She liked how his fingers drifted down her spine to rest possessively on her back as he walked beside her, so different from the days when he'd unceremoniously throw an arm around her shoulders and haul her up against him.

When he hugged her these days? No longer did he hoist her off the ground in a rough, brotherly bear hug, and squeeze the breath out of her. Not anymore. No, now he stepped into her, hips forward, and slid his hands down her arms to her waist. With his fingers spread wide, he swept his palms across her back, folding her into him, one hand cupping the base of her skull beneath the heavy fall of her hair, and tucking her face into his neck. Full body, nose to toes embraces, that's what they were these days, the kind of hug that sucked all the oxygen out of her in a completely different way. The kind that made her heart race.

Like it was now.

"Take a breath," Ricky whispered, his grin still taunting her. "We're up."

Gia made a small noise, one that almost went unnoticed... but not quite. Renata turned and peered over her shoulder at her, one perfectly arched eyebrow lifted. "Nervous?" she mouthed.

Gia nodded, pressing her lips together in a tight grin that probably looked more like a grimace. She hadn't been a minute ago, but suddenly, her palms felt damp and her ankles and knees grew wobbly. Beethoven's triumphant Ode to Joy suddenly burst from the speakers, and Gia closed her eyes, praying the red splotches of embarrassment crawling up her neck and spreading over her cheeks would be attributed to the emotions of the day, and not the direction her thoughts had wandered.

"You're beautiful," Renata whispered with a reassuring smile, reaching behind her to squeeze Gia's fingers in a quick grab. "Breathtaking." She turned back around, and with one last adoring glance up at her husband, she and Tim led the Gustafson girls and their escorts down the decorated aisle to the front of the church where the handsome groom, Victor Jarrett, stood at attention, awaiting his sweet Juliette.