Date: 2020-03-16 04:00:00+00:00
Publisher: DGS
Rights: Copyright 2020 Denise Grover Swank. All rights reserved.

The Wedding Pact Box Set

Denise Grover Swank

Contents

The Substitute

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

The Player

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

The Gambler

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

The Valentine

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

ONLY YOU Preview

Also by Denise Grover Swank

Also by Denise Grover Swank writing as D.G. Swank

About the Author

The Substitute

The Wedding Pact #1

Chapter One

It was only ten thirty, and it was already a craptastic day.

Megan Vandemeer stared at the airplane on the tarmac. What the hell was she doing? The Alaska Airlines flight was taking off in twenty minutes, and she was actually going to be on it.

Her phone rang and she dug it out of her purse, cringing when she saw her best friend Blair’s name on the caller ID. She answered anyway.

“How did she take it?” Blair asked.

“Well . . .” Megan glanced up at the digital sign by the gate. Five minutes to boarding.

“Wait.” Blair’s voice was short. “Tell me that you told her.”

“I told her.”

Her friend paused. “You’re lying. That’s your lying voice.”

Megan shook her head. “I have a lying voice?”

“It goes up half an octave and gets tight at the end.”

“Should it worry me that you know me that well?”

“We’ve been friends since kindergarten. I’d hope I know you that well.” Blair groaned. “You might be trying to change the subject, but your mother’s going to notice when you don’t show up to your own wedding.”

The overhead PA system blurted a staticky message about a changed gate, and Megan covered the microphone on her phone.

“Megan, you have to tell her!” Blair said in frustration.

“I will.” The digital sign now said four minutes to boarding.

“When?”

“Later this afternoon.”

“Why not just call her now?” The overhead PA sounded again and Blair gasped. “Are you actually at the airport?”

“Blair . . .”

“You never canceled your flight, did you?”

Megan brushed her hair out of her face and leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Honestly, Blair. I forgot.”

“Lie.”

Tears stung Megan’s eyes. “I need a friend right now, Blair. Not a damned lie detector.”

“I’m sorry.” Blair sighed. “You’re right. Trust me, I understand why you’ve stalled. Your mother scares me, and you know I don’t scare easily. But you have to tell her, Megs. The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.”

“I know, but I want to tell her in person. At this point, I could hardly do anything else.”

“So you’re really coming home?”

Megan cast a glance at the gate. “I’m boarding the plane in two minutes.”

“Okay.” Blair was quiet for several seconds, and Megan knew she was making some kind of plan. Blair was the one person you could count on in a crisis. If there was ever a zombie apocalypse, her best chance of survival was to stick by Blair’s side. “You’re going to need to escape tonight. Maybe you, me, and Libby can go out.”

Megan swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

“What are best friends for? Call me when the deed is done, although I suspect I’ll hear the yelling all the way downtown. If you need to stay at my place, I have a spare bed for you.”

“What about Neil?”

“He’s on a three-day business trip and won’t be home until Friday. But even so, he doesn’t like to spend weeknights together.”

“But you’re getting married in three months. Aren’t you going to be living together?”

“Of course,” she said, sounding defensive. “We’ll work it out when we need to.”

“I don’t get it,” Megan muttered, shaking her head.

“Says the woman boarding a plane to fly to her wedding even though she broke up with her fiancé five weeks ago.”

“Six.”

“Sadly, that makes it worse.”

An airline employee at the gate counter picked up the microphone. “We are about to board Flight 365 to Kansas City. First class passengers will board first.”

“Blair, I’ve got to go. They’re boarding first class. Considering how much the ticket cost, I might as well board first and get something out of it.”

“Don’t forget the alcohol. You get free drinks.”

Megan rolled her eyes, even if the gesture was lost on her friend. “It’s not even eleven o’clock in the morning, Blair.”

“Mimosas. Bloody Marys. Screwdrivers. There’s a whole assortment of brunch drinks.”

The overhead PA switched on again. “Now boarding our first class passengers.”

Megan grabbed her purse and stood. “They’re boarding. I’ll call you later.”

“You can do it, Megs. What’s the worst she can do?”

She shuddered. “I don’t even want to consider it. I’ll let you know how it goes.” She hung up and stuffed her phone into her purse, eyeing the gate with apprehension.

The thought of boarding the plane made her nervous for another reason. Turbulence gave her horrible airsickness. But her coworker had suggested she take Dramamine as a preventive measure. While Megan hated taking medication, even aspirin for a headache, she had enough to worry about once she got off the plane. The last thing she wanted to do was spend every moment on board battling nausea. She pulled a bottle of water out of her bag, shook two pills from the travel-size container, and swallowed them, hoping they worked in time.

She stood behind a businessman with a bad comb-over, who looked to be a good twenty years older than her.

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned as he eyed her up and down. “Have you considered your retirement needs?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Retirement?”

“What are you, thirty-two? Thirty-four?”

Megan shot him a glare. “Twenty-nine.”

His grin widened as he moved forward with the line. “It’s never too early to start. Maybe we can chat about it on the plane if we’re sitting next to each other.”

The way her life was going lately, it seemed almost inevitable.

But thankfully, he sat in the front row and she was in seat 3D. She stuffed her purse under the seat and looked out the window, remembering when she and Jay had bought the plane tickets to fly to Kansas City to their wedding. That should have been her first clue that Jay was an asshole she shouldn’t marry. He’d insisted that they each pay for their own ticket.

“Can I get you something, Ms. Vandemeer?”

Megan turned to look at the pretty flight attendant who was smiling down at her. She was perfect, from the top of her blond head to the tips of her fashionable yet practical shoes. To the untrained observer, her smile appeared friendly, but Megan had spent eighteen years under the tutelage of her impossibly perfect mother—long enough for her to know a fake smile when she saw one. And the reminder of her mother was nearly enough to send her over the edge. “Uh . . . a mimosa?”

The attendant nodded. “Coming right up.”

Other passengers filed past Megan, and after a while she realized that the only open first class seat was next to hers. Maybe Jay had forgotten to cancel his ticket, too. Though that didn’t seem likely. Jay was a penny-pinching snob. But what else had she expected from an investment banker? His idea of a wild night was moving her 401K into high-risk mutual funds. Creepy financial planner dude was a year too late.

The flight attendant brought her the drink, and Megan sipped it faster than intended, trying to quell her nerves. The knots in her shoulders were just loosening up when one of the attendants started to shut the cabin door. The woman stopped mid-action, holding the door open to let one last passenger on board. He stood in the front of the aisle, his gaze taking in the empty seat next to hers.

Megan wasn’t the only woman to notice him, even if her attention was less pointed than the others’. At least six feet tall, he had to stoop slightly to keep from bumping his head on the ceiling. The blond flight attendant who’d brought Megan’s drink gave him a sideways glance of appreciation, even if he didn’t notice. Then again, Megan was sure a guy like him, who epitomized the words tall, dark, and handsome, was used to women staring. Jay certainly had been.

The attendant rested her hand lightly on the man’s arm and looked up at him through heavily mascaraed eyelashes, saying something softly so that she had to lean into him to be heard. Looking slightly irritated, he showed her his ticket, and she pointed to the empty seat.

Megan had a neighbor.

He stuffed his overnight bag in the overhead bin and sat next to her, buckling his seatbelt. He was, without a doubt, a better option than the financial planner, but maybe not by much. She guessed him to be close to her age, and he didn’t have the typical laid-back Seattle vibe. He bore a resemblance to Jay, though his thick, wavy dark brown hair wasn’t trimmed as closely as her ex-fiancé’s always was. But his looks didn’t concern her. What did concern her was the determined gleam in his dark brown eyes and the way his jaw was perpetually clenched, as if he were steeling himself against something unpleasant. He looked like he was determined to complete a mission, at any cost.

Momentary fear mingled with the inebriated fog in her head. “Are you a terrorist?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“What?” he asked, his eyes wide as he turned to her in horror.

She shook her head, the movement making her dizzy. “Sorry. You just had a crazed look . . .” She waved her hand in circles in front of her face to help justify her statement, then quickly dropped it to her lap. What on earth had possessed her to say that?

Moments later, the flirty attendant came back and leaned across the man to grab the empty glass on Megan’s tray. Still bent over, the blond turned to face him, her face less than a foot from his. “Don’t you worry, Mr. McMillan.” She patted his arm again. “I’ll come take care of you just as soon as I can.”

His mouth parted slightly before he grunted, “Thanks.”

Megan had to wonder what the attendant’s definition of taking care of him included.

The flight crew started the safety demonstration, and Megan leaned her head against the seat, her fingers digging into the armrest. When this flight landed, she would finally have to do what she’d been avoiding for over a month . . . but how? How was she going to face her mother?

“Afraid of flying?” the man next to her asked, sounding displeased by the prospect.

“No, just crashing and burning.” Which was exactly what was going to happen to her after they landed.

Chapter Two

It was his turn to ask, “What?”

“Not the plane.” The brunette’s brown eyes fluttered open, glistening with tears. “My life.”

Josh nearly panicked. He could deal with paranoid people worried about plane crashes, but he hoped to God this woman wasn’t going to cry. He didn’t think he could take it right now.

He wasn’t supposed to be here—on this plane, with this woman, at this point in his life.

Josh McMillan wasn’t the kind of man to take leaps. Every step he took was carefully plotted beforehand. Except for this one.

Ever since Josh was eight years old, he’d wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and become an engineer. Josh was sixteen when his father died, but the loss only cemented his resolve. His older brother, already an engineer, took over the family business, and Josh joined him when he graduated from college.

The firm had struggled since their father’s death, and the bad turn in the economy hadn’t helped. But then Josh had created a revolutionary part that could be used on wind turbines to help produce more electricity with the same amount of wind power. The part had the potential to make millions. So they’d hired a patent attorney and spent a fortune they didn’t have to get the patent process started, hinging the future of their business on it. And it had worked. They’d acquired interest from a serious investor who could help take their engineering firm to a whole new level.

Until last Friday, when their patent had been denied.

A firm in Kansas City, Missouri, had received approval for an identical plan, but how could a firm in Kansas City have so exactly duplicated the esoteric part? Josh had literally stumbled upon the design by accident.

Josh’s company would have to pay thousands more to an attorney to fight the ruling. Thousands they couldn’t afford to lose. Worse yet, the investor had caught wind and threatened to pull out of their agreement if the matter wasn’t resolved within a week. The brothers went out for drinks to strategize about the ruling, which is when, after a couple of rounds, Noah confessed to having shown the plans to a friend of a friend at a conference three years before.

“Who was the friend of a friend?”

Noah looked slightly embarrassed. “She was a woman I picked up in the hotel bar. I took her to my room, and the next morning she was gone and so was my bag. A copy of the plans was inside.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Josh asked, his temper rising.

Noah slouched over the bar, cradling a glass tumbler in his hand. He lifted his shoulder into a half-shrug. “They were a copy, Josh. I didn’t think anything of it.”

“We have to fight this.” Josh only realized he was shouting when he took in the startled looks of the other bar patrons. “We didn’t work so hard to file the patent and get this investor just to let it all be flushed down the drain.”

Noah sat up and drained his drink. “Maybe there’s nothing left to fight for.”

Only, Josh wasn’t so willing to give up the fight. He’d spent the last seven years pouring his everything into making his father’s company a success. He’d sacrificed his personal life, not to mention his checkbook. No, he couldn’t come this close to making the company financially solvent just to lose it all. There had to be a way to fight this. There just had to be.

He went on to spend the weekend researching everything he could about PMV Engineering, the firm that had filed the patent two weeks before the McMillan brothers. PMV consisted of three partners. One had retired and moved to Belize, which—in and of itself—made Josh suspicious. The other two were still active. Andrew Peterman was the second principal, and his son Drew had joined the firm three years prior—suspicious timing, indeed. From the photos Josh had found on the Internet, he made the highly unscientific judgment that the man was cold-blooded enough to set Noah up.

After hours of researching and brainstorming and only six days before the investor pulled out, Josh decided to go to Kansas City to confront the bastards in person. By a stroke of luck, the daughter of the third principal, Bart Vandemeer, was about to get married. Josh figured he could use the distraction to catch them off guard.

Noah thought he was crazy; but then, he would. Despite being four years older, he’d never been as invested in the company. Still, in spite of his skepticism about the last-minute trip, Noah had driven him to the airport. Since the ticket had been purchased at the last minute, Josh had needed to spring for first class. It had cost a fortune, but at least he could have a beer or two and relax on the flight to Kansas City, taking the opportunity to figure out a real plan.

Or at least that’s what he’d thought.

He hadn’t counted on being seated next to the anxious brunette. She was pretty, with long, dark hair that hung past her shoulders and long, slender legs—definitely his type—but within a minute of sitting down, she’d accused him of being a terrorist and made her crash-and-burn comment.

It was going to be a long flight.

Maybe he could get the eager flight attendant to move him to coach.

After they reached cruising altitude, the airline attendant stood, and Josh grabbed her attention, not a hard thing to do since she’d kept her eye on him since before takeoff.

She walked straight toward him with a determined look. “Can I help you, Mr. McMillan?”

“I need a Jack and Coke,” he said, forgoing his planned beer. The woman next to him was already driving him crazy. He was going to need something stronger than a beer to endure her tics.

“Of course. Anything else?” The attendant flashed him a blinding smile. The name tag pinned to her uniform read “Tiffani.” Of course it did.

“I want another mimosa,” the woman next to him said.

The attendant barely acknowledged her order before spinning around to head to the galley.

When she returned, she leaned in closer than necessary to place the woman’s drink on the tray next to him. Then she set a cup of ice along with a can of Coke and a minibar bottle on his tray. “Would you like me to make it for you?”

She was certainly attractive, but she looked too high-maintenance and more his brother’s type. Josh might have been interested in her anyway at a different time, but today he didn’t need the distraction. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

Her smile faltered as she walked away, but while he felt a little bad, there was no sense in leading her on. He was a man on a mission, and his mission currently lacked an accompanying plan.

Josh was fixing his drink when, apropos of nothing, the woman next to him asked, “Do you get along with your mother?”

He turned to her. “My mother?”

“Yeah, you know—” she waved her hand dismissively, “—the woman who raised you.”

He gave her his full attention, still confused. She looked more relaxed now, and he was sure it had something to do with the drink she’d downed before takeoff. “Maybe I was raised by two fathers,” he said, keeping a straight face.

Her eyes widened as though she’d had an epiphany. “Oh. Were you?”

“No.” He couldn’t hide a smirk.

She watched him for a second, and he studied her while he waited. Her big brown eyes weren’t entirely focused. Could she have been drinking before she boarded the plane? She didn’t seem the type, but who knew?

“So do you?” Her thin eyebrows lifted in an exaggerated arch.

“Do I what?” He’d forgotten her question as he watched her shift in her seat. Her light blue skirt hiked up to mid-thigh and stayed there, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Get along with your mother.”

He grinned, surprising himself. “Yes. I love my mother.”

She lifted her glass and the liquid sloshed around, nearly spilling over the side. “Now that’s different. Loving your mother and getting along with her are two very. Different. Things.” She waved her glass to emphasize her point.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, his mouth pursed. “My mother and I get along pretty well. Better than my brother and me.”

“You’re really, really lucky.” She took a sip of her drink and turned to the window to stare out into the clouds. When she was silent for several minutes, he decided she was done and turned to face the seat in front of him.

Josh took a sip of his drink and closed his eyes. He hadn’t slept well the night before, and now that he was on this flight, he realized Noah was right. This caper was insane. He hadn’t even reserved a car or hotel for his time in Kansas City.

What the hell was he doing? It wasn’t like he could actually crash the Vandemeer wedding.

“Can I get you something else, Mr. McMillan?” Tiffani asked. Josh opened his eyes, a little irritated now. Wasn’t it a cardinal rule for flight attendants to leave sleeping—or possibly sleeping—passengers alone?

“No, thank you.”

“Can I have some water, please?” the woman next to him asked.

The flight attendant gave her a dirty look, then moved on to the next row. When she returned, she gave the woman her water and looked down at Josh, fluttering her lashes. “Mr. McMillan, if you change your mind, you let me know.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she walked away with a small sigh.

“Mr. McMillan,” the woman next to him singsonged in an undertone. “Will you have my babies?”

He laughed and turned to her. “She’s that obvious?”

She snorted, then asked after a pause, “Are you married, Mr. McMillan?”

He waggled his bare left fingers at her. “Nope. You?”

She looked down at the simple diamond solitaire on her left ring finger. “Nope. Very single.” Then she laughed and looked up at him with a wistful smile. “Guess why I’m going to Kansas City.”

“I have no idea.”

“Guess.”

“You’re joining the circus.”

“Nope. Guess again.” She leaned her head against the window, her eyes partially closed.

He found himself wondering again if she’d spent the morning at the airport bar. It seemed impossible that she could be so drunk off two drinks. “You’re going to join a convent.”

She laughed again and lifted her hand, showing him her ring. “I’m going home to my wedding.”

“But you just said you’re single.”

“I am. Now.” She sat up and grabbed the cup of water. “I broke up with the lying, cheating bastard six weeks ago.”

He shook his head. “I’m confused.”

She set her glass down with a thud, and water sloshed out. “I didn’t tell my mother.”

“So . . . you’re going to tell her you’re marrying an invisible man?”

Her eyes widened. “Do you think that would work?”

He chuckled. “No.”

She flopped back in her seat with a harrumph. “You’re probably right.”

“So let me get this straight: You’re going home to your wedding, which is this . . . ?”

“Saturday.” She sat up again and leaned over, then picked up his half-full glass of Coke and Jack Daniel’s and gulped it down in a couple of swigs.

He grabbed her arm and pried the now-empty glass out of her hands. “Whoa, slow down there, slugger.”

“She’ll bring you more, you know,” she mumbled, leaning over the armrest toward him, trying to take the glass back.

He moved it out of reach. “Who?”

“The flight attendant. The future Mrs. McMillan.” She burst into giggles and pointed to the glass in his hand, whispering loudly, “Those are free in first class.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“But even if they weren’t, the future Mrs. McMillan would probably give them to you for free.”

“You think so?” he teased, looking down the aisle at the woman in question. “What do you think? Should I propose before I get off the plane?”

The brunette scrunched her nose. “She reminds me of some of the sorority girls I knew in college.”

“And is that a good thing or a bad one?”

She tried to look serious, but she needed to squint to see him. “Definitely bad. Those girls were bitches.”

He laughed despite himself. “I think you just saved me from a nasty divorce.”

She pointed her finger at him. “And don’t forget the alimony.”

“True enough. If you weren’t as drunk as a sailor on shore leave, I’d buy you a free drink. Is your mother really that scary?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Worse.” She grabbed her water and drained it.

“So what are you going to do?”

She shrugged. “Tell her, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“It might be a really, really short trip.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “She’s picking me up from the airport. I can tell her as soon as she picks me up. Shoot, I didn’t even need to pack my suitcase.”

“It might not be so bad,” he volunteered. “She’ll understand. I can’t imagine a mother would want her daughter to marry a lying, cheating bastard.”

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope. She can’t get her deposits back. She warned me last fall before making the bookings.” She looked up at him. “She was pissed about my engagement. She said Jay should have asked Dad for my hand in marriage, as if it were some kind of business transaction. And the fact that I’d dated him for two years without ever bringing him home. Well . . . that pissed her off, too.”

“So why not catch a flight to KC to introduce them?” He could only imagine how upset his mother would be if he got engaged to a woman she’d never met.

She sighed. “Jay could never get away. And honestly, I’ve only been home once in four years. I didn’t want him to meet them.”

“So they were basically going to meet him on the way to the chapel? I can understand why she’d be pissed.”

The woman gave him a frustrated glare. “Really, Mr. McMillan? I saved you from the single greatest mistake of your life—future Mrs. McMillan up there—and you’re turning on me just like that?” She tried to snap her fingers, but she fumbled with them several times before giving up.

He grinned. “When you put it that way . . . I’m still not surprised your mother was pissed.”

“Well, it wasn’t going to be like that. That’s why we were coming today, so my family could spend an extra couple of days getting to know him.”

“Wow.” He lifted his hands off his lap. “A whole couple of extra days to meet their new son-in-law.”

“You don’t know my family. And the whole thing’s moot. He’s history and my mother has to cancel a twenty-five-thousand-dollar wedding without getting a single penny back.” She took several shallow breaths, and Josh realized she was about to cry.

“Hey! Maybe she can get a refund on some of it.”

She sniffled, reaching to the floor for her purse, but the seatbelt across her lap kept it out of reach while also protecting her from falling out of the seat and onto her head—a real danger.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Josh said, already unlatching his belt. He leaned forward, grabbed the bag, and set it in her lap.

She pulled out a package of tissues, struggling to tug one loose from the plastic.

He reached over and did it for her.

She blew her nose, a noisy sound, then looked up at him. “Do you want to know the worst part?”

Ordinarily he wouldn’t. He’d be looking for the first opportunity out of this crazy conversation. But God help him, he was genuinely curious when he asked, “What?”

“She’s going to say, ‘I told you so.’” Tears filled her eyes. “They’re her favorite words.”

“Maybe she won’t. Families surprise you sometimes.”

She shook her head. “You don’t know my mother.”

There was no doubt about it; she was in a difficult position, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. But there was no need. Her alcohol-induced ADD kicked in, and she started digging through her bag again. “Where is it?”

“What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.”

“Tina lied. She swore that Dramamine would keep me from feeling sick, but I feel like I’m about to puke.”

“Dramamine?”

“Maybe I should take more.”

He grabbed her bag and pulled it from her. “You took Dramamine? When?”

“When I was boarding the plane. The last time I flew, the turbulence made me sick. I didn’t want that to happen again.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Only two,” she said, looking indignant, then a little sheepish. “Plus the rest of yours.”

“That’s two and a half too many. You can’t drink with Dramamine.” He reached over his head and pushed the call light.

The flight attendant appeared within seconds, and he found himself mentally calling her the almost-future Mrs. McMillan.

“Can I get more water for . . .” He looked at the nearly incapacitated woman, realizing he didn’t even know her name.

“Megan,” she offered.

“. . . for Megan. She’s not feeling well.”

The flight attendant looked disgusted. “Is she drunk?”

“No. She just needs water.”

The woman released an exasperated sigh and spun on her heels.

“She’s pissed at you, you know,” Megan mumbled, leaning back in the seat. “She’s jealous.”

“Let her be,” he grumbled. “Didn’t you know you shouldn’t drink with Dramamine?”

“No.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against the window.

The flight attendant brought the water and handed it to Josh, who took it without giving her a glance.

“Megan, why don’t you drink more water before you take a nap?” He looked back at the attendant, who stood in the aisle watching. “Can you bring her a blanket?”

She stomped away, returning with the blanket a few moments later. By then he’d coaxed Megan to drink more water. He leaned her seat back and spread the blanket over her as she passed out. He watched the rise and fall of her chest for a moment, feeling a bit better when it appeared normal. As long as she was breathing okay, she’d be fine. He considered telling Tiffani what was going on, but he didn’t expect much sympathy. Megan was right. The flight attendant was jealous.

He was about to engage in a last stand for the company that had been his life’s work—and his father’s and brother’s—so how had taking care of this woman become his top priority? The only thing he knew was that it felt right.

Chapter Three

Josh spent the rest of the flight worried about the woman next to him, so much so he had trouble focusing on his own issues. How was he going to prove that Andrew Peterman and Bart Vandemeer’s firm had stolen the plans? It wasn’t like they were just going to hand over the information willingly. He hoped fate would intervene and do him a solid. Ten employees were counting on him, including Ted Murray, an engineer close to retirement age who’d been hired by Josh’s father before Josh was even born, and Missy Dunston, their seven-months-pregnant receptionist. Neither one would have jobs lined up and waiting. They were counting on him to protect them, whether they knew it or not.

Megan was still snoring softly beside him as the plane made its descent and then landed with a hard thud on the tarmac. He pulled out his phone and turned it on, finding two missed calls and a text from his brother. His brother was the last person he wanted to deal with right now. After all, this whole mess was indisputably Noah’s fault, and his answer seemed to be to just throw in the towel. Josh shoved the phone back into his pocket. Well, he wasn’t going down without a fight.

He turned to the sleeping woman in the next seat. “Megan.”

She didn’t stir.

“Megan,” he said louder, giving her arm a little shake.

She roused, but her eyes were still squeezed shut. “Leave me alone.”

“Megan.” He jostled her harder this time. “We landed. You need to wake up.”

“I’m tired,” she murmured, burrowing under the blanket.

“You can sleep after you get off the plane.” But he knew she couldn’t. Her mother was picking her up, which meant she wouldn’t get to sleep for quite some time. She’d be busy explaining why her fiancé was a no-show.

How was she going to face her mother in this condition?

She still hadn’t roused by the time the plane pulled up to the gate. The first class passengers began to bolt from their seats, fumbling with the overhead bins with all the excitement of toddlers on Christmas morning. Josh waved Tiffani over, and she shoved passengers out of the way in her hurry to reach him.

He motioned to Megan. “She’s going to need help getting off the plane.”

The flight attendant shot Megan a snotty look, then rolled her eyes. “Sure. We’ll call security to take care of the problem.”

“Security? Can’t someone just help her off the plane? Her mother’s out there waiting for her.”

The attendant gave him a stern look, but he saw a flash of vindictiveness in her eyes. “We take public intoxication very seriously, Mr. McMillan.”

“She’s not drunk. She had a drug interaction with the alcohol she drank.”

The attendant’s eyebrows arched. “So she takes drugs, too? Then she’s a sloppy drunk.”

“I told you she’s not—”

“Not to worry.” She patted Josh’s arm. “You are so sweet to feel responsible, but you can go about your business. We’ll take care of her.”

Josh worried how she’d take care of her. He hardly knew the woman next to him, but for some reason he did feel responsible for her. “That’s not necessary. I’ll help her off.”

The attendant shook her head, her mouth twisting into a mock sympathetic pout. “Sorry. You’re not traveling together, and we can’t let an unconscious woman leave with a stranger. Imagine the liability the airline would face.”

“If she wakes up and tells you she wants to leave with me, will you let me help her?”

She studied Megan, who was audibly snoring again, for a moment before giving Josh a smug grin. “Of course.” Then she returned to the front of the plane.

The cabin door opened, and the passengers started to rush off. The sensible part of Josh told him to get up and walk away, but he just couldn’t do it.

“Megan.” He shook her arm more vigorously. The passengers exiting from the back watched the scene with morbid curiosity.

“What?” she finally groaned, turning toward him.

“The Almost-Future Mrs. McMillan is going to call security unless you get up and walk off this plane.”

Her eyelids fluttered open. “Sorority Bitch?”

He grinned. “That’s the one.”

She tried to sit up and teetered in her seat. “Why’s the plane swaying?”

“It’s not. You’re still out of it.”

She leaned back in the seat. “I’m just gonna take a little nap . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Megan.”

She jolted upright, her eyes wide. “What?”

“Sorority Bitch will let me help you off the plane, but you have to tell her that you want to leave with me.”

She grinned and waggled her finger in his face, singsonging, “She’s not gonna like it . . .”

“I can deal with it. Will you tell her?”

Her grin widened, but her gaze was still unfocused. “Oh . . . yeah . . .”

Josh started to get out of his seat. “Do you have anything in the overhead bin?”

“What? . . . No.”

She was fading again, so he quickly grabbed his overnight bag and darted into the aisle, blocking the path of an irritated passenger from the back of the plane. He set his rolling case on the seat in front of him and grabbed Megan’s purse off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s stand you up and get going.”

She didn’t answer, already asleep again.

He leaned over and pulled the blanket off her. “Megan.”

She startled and jumped up, the top of her head hitting the bottom of his chin.

“Oww!” He jerked upright and whacked the top of his head on the ceiling over the seat. Frustrated, he stopped and took a deep breath. How the hell had he gotten himself into this situation? He briefly considered running for the exit. Without her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her with Tiffani.

“Hey, buddy,” the irritated man behind him grumbled. “Some of us want off this plane.”

“Just a second,” Josh barked as he glanced down at Megan and found her staring up at him. Or as much as she could through squinted eyes.

He reached for her arm and pulled her into a standing position. “First we walk off the plane. Then we’ll figure out the rest.”

“Okay,” she murmured, but her limbs were limp. He’d be lucky to get her down the short aisle. Somehow she found some inner reservoir of energy and managed to stand and maneuver her way around the seat and into the aisle.

He knew things were going too well, especially when the Almost-Future Mrs. McMillan stopped her. “Miss, are you leaving of your own accord?”

Megan shook her head, and Josh’s heart slammed into his chest. If she told them no, could he be arrested for kidnapping? “I don’t have an Accord,” Megan slurred as she began to wobble. “I have a Civic.”

The flight attendant scowled. “Do you know the man you’re leaving with? Do you want to leave with him?”

Megan’s eyes widened as she tried to focus on the woman in front of her. She said in a mock serious tone, “Yes, I know this man.” She winked up at him, then turned back to Tiffani. “He’s Mr. McMillan, and we’re leaving here together.” She stuck out her tongue at the flight attendant, who had a horrified look on her face. “So no little McMillan babies for you.” Then she tried to tap the other woman on the nose, missing and jabbing her cheek instead.

“Okay . . .” Josh grunted, pulling Megan toward the door while he tried to maneuver his rolling carry-on bag with one hand. “Let’s save the birds and the bees speech for later.”

He hadn’t waited for permission to take her, so he half-expected to be stopped as he coaxed Megan out of the plane and down the tunnel to the terminal. They were ten feet from the door when her knees buckled. He pulled her up against his chest, his arm wrapped around her back to support her. He glanced down at a wheelchair at the entrance to the plane. One of the baggage handlers was watching him with wide eyes.

“I don’t suppose I can use that wheelchair?” Josh asked.

The man shook his head, grabbing the handle. “No can do, mister.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

The airline employee chuckled—actually chuckled—in response. If Josh had been the type of guy to write nasty letters . . .

“Megan?” Josh gently shook her. “Can you keep walking?”

Her eyes were tiny slits as she flopped her head back to look at him. “No, thank you. I don’t want any peanut brittle . . .”

He supposed that was as good an answer to his question as any. Now he needed to figure out how to get her, her purse, and his bag down to arrivals.

Squatting, he pressed his shoulder into her abdomen, then stood, carrying her in a fireman’s hold. Her upper body dangled down his back, her drooping arms swinging and brushing his ass. This was going to look suspicious as hell, but it was the only way he could get her out without leaving their stuff behind.

He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and set her purse on top of the bag, hurrying for the door once he had her steady. He’d never flown to Kansas City, so he wasn’t expecting the cramped waiting area and the dense crowd preparing to board the next flight. Thankfully, the exit was only twenty feet away.

Megan’s upper body still dangled down his back. He knew they were a spectacle, and the outright stares confirmed it. “She’s my fiancée,” he muttered, breaking one of his cardinal rules—never explain yourself, especially not to strangers. But he knew that some of those stares were from people who were worried that he was kidnapping her. “She’s not feeling well.” He tugged on her legs. “Tell the people you’re not feeling well, Megan.”

One of her dangling hands waved around as she spoke. “I’m the one helping you. I saved you from that awful woman.” Then she patted his backside. “You have a really nice ass. No wonder she wanted to have your babies.”

To his horror, Josh’s face began to burn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed. “Megan, there are children around us.”

Her hand dropped, but he wasn’t sure if his admonishment had stopped her or if she’d simply passed out again.

She wasn’t a large woman, but he hadn’t been very faithful at the gym lately, so he was feeling the physical exertion of carrying her dead weight. He made it out of the secure area, despite a suspicious once-over from the security guard at the door. As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, he wondered what on earth to do with her next. A group of three people stood clustered in a group, and they all turned their horrified gazes to the woman draped over his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he assured them. “I’m her fiancé.”

Only then did he realize one of the women was an older version of Megan.

Oh. Shit.

The woman in question looked at the woman hanging down his back. She squatted and tilted her head upside down. “Megan?”

Megan gave an exaggerated wave. “Hi, Mom. Why are you upside down?”

Her mother released a horrified gasp. “Are you drunk?”

Josh took a step toward her, his heart hammering in his chest. How the hell was he going to get himself out of this one? “She took some Dramamine, and apparently it has a pretty strong effect on her. She’s okay.”

“How much did she take?”

He thought back to their conversation. “She said she took two as she was boarding.”

“And you didn’t see her take them?” she asked, her tone full of admonishment. The woman’s eyes lifted to Josh’s face, and he knew he was being scrutinized. He could see why Megan was scared of her mother. She was intimidating in the way that only stately women of a certain age could be.

An older man stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, for God’s sake, Nicole, let the man be. Is this really how you want to meet your future son-in-law?”

Josh shook his head. “See, there’s been a misunderstanding.”

But he had to wonder why they didn’t know what Megan’s ex-fiancé looked like. Sure, they’d never met the guy, but hadn’t they at least seen photos?

Megan’s father shot his wife a weighted grimace. “The only misunderstanding is that Nicole is trying to micromanage everything. Like always.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m Megan’s father, Bart Vandemeer. Nice to finally meet the man who’s marrying my little girl. It’s Jay, isn’t it?”

Josh gaped at the man, at a loss for words. For once in his life he hadn’t bothered to come up with an intricate plan before jumping into a situation. He’d asked for fate to intervene, and the very man he needed to talk to had been dropped right in front of him.

For once in his life, he was going to just go for it.

He shifted Megan on his shoulder and awkwardly held out his hand for a shake, still speechless. These people obviously had no idea he wasn’t Megan’s real fiancé. How wrong would it be if he used that to his advantage? After all, he’d be helping Megan, too. She was in no condition to deal with her family at the moment. “Josh, actually.”

Bart Vandemeer looked confused. “Megan told us your name was Jay.”

“Oh . . . Jay is my nickname. You can call me Jay or Josh, but I usually go by Josh.”

“What?” Nicole Vandemeer shrieked, her voice raising a full octave. “All the materials for the wedding list your name as Jay.”

Josh struggled to keep from grimacing. “Jay is fine. It really doesn’t matter.”

“I don’t know why Megan doesn’t tell me these things,” the woman grumbled. An elderly woman grinned like a Cheshire cat behind her, as if finding the whole exchange amusing.

Megan’s father ignored his wife. “Well, Josh. Welcome to Kansas City.” The older man beamed. “We look forward to getting to know you better.”

Bart Vandemeer had no idea how much Josh was looking forward to getting to know him, too.

Chapter Four

When Megan woke, she was pretty sure the pounding in her head was about to split it wide open. This was worse than the New Year’s Eve party, when she’d gotten so drunk on tequila shooters she stood up on the coffee table and serenaded her then-boyfriend with “My Heart Will Go On” . . . only to break up with him an hour later when she found him kissing Lisa Menendez at midnight with enough tongue to contradict his protests that it was a friendly peck.

Now that she thought about it, cheating boyfriends had been a constant in her dating life. She knew the topic deserved closer inspection, but there was no way she could psychoanalyze herself until she’d taken an ibuprofen.

It took her a second to orient herself. She was lying on her stomach, her cheek pressed against something soft and wet. When she finally pried her eyes open, she was surprised to find herself in her old bedroom. Her vision was blurry until it focused on a familiar bulletin board attached to a lavender wall. She’d hung the board up the summer before her freshman year of high school, ready to capture her high school memories with her two best friends, Blair and Libby. The three of them were together in plenty of the photos—at football games, class trips, and sleepovers. But there were also individual shots of Libby in her cheerleader uniform and Blair in her business suit, ready for a debate match. The familiar pang of regret and inferiority flooded her.

Megan had never found her place in high school. Part of the problem was her mom’s unrelenting quest to make her into some kind of mini-me. Her mother never seemed to tire of coercing her to go on day-long shopping trips. When Megan reached high school, she finally announced that enough was enough. She would rather stand naked in history class reciting the United States Constitution than go on another torture session with her mother. Her mother had done exactly what she’d always done in response to Megan’s protests: she ignored them. But one Saturday morning, mother and daughter were locked in a standoff over Nicole’s meticulously planned day at the Country Club Plaza when Megan’s father exercised one of his rare interventions. He told her mother that she’d had fourteen years to try to sway Megan to the dark side and failed. Then he advised Megan she had five minutes to get everything she needed for an overnight camping trip with him and her brother Kevin.

Camping hadn’t figured into her plans for the weekend. What she really wanted was to go spend the afternoon with Libby. But an inmate on death row didn’t protest when his reprieve meant moving to maximum security instead of freedom, so Megan had done as he’d suggested.

And to her surprise, she loved it.

She wasn’t sure why. She’d never considered herself an outdoorsy person, but she began to cherish her monthly camping trips with her dad and brother.

This had irritated her mother to no end, and in fact, it drove an even deeper wedge between the two. And that wedge became a gulf when Megan graduated from Missouri University and flew off to Seattle to work for a nonprofit that worked to prevent over-deforestation. At the time, her well-planned escape had been an act of rebellion. While she loved her job and had quickly moved up the hierarchy to the position of grant coordinator and fundraiser, she now realized the move had cost her something precious—her close relationship with her father and brother.

But here she was, hip-deep in self-analysis again, when she still had no answer to the pressing issue of how she’d gotten from the plane into her old room.

It all came rushing back to her. Boarding the plane. Drinking two mimosas. Stealing Mr. McMillan’s drink. Blabbering to him about the flight attendant and her defunct fiancé.

She squeezed her eyes shut in horror. She’d made an utter fool of herself.

She sat up and swiped at her wet cheek, realizing the wet sensation was the result of all the drool on her pillow. Great. As if she needed to feel any worse. At least she could take comfort in the fact that she’d never see the man again. What did it matter if he thought she was crazy? Besides, there were bigger things to worry about.

She shook her head, trying to clear it, but spiking a fresh round of pain instead. She needed to focus so she could figure out how she’d ended up on her bed. The last thing she remembered was snuggling under the blanket in her seat on the plane. But if she was in her room, her mother must have found her somehow.

Her mother was going to kill her. It was a wonder she hadn’t taken advantage of Megan’s supine state to do so already.

Megan glanced around the room and found her old digital alarm clock on the worn white nightstand. 6:12. The sun was streaming through the blinds, but it was summer so that didn’t necessarily give her a clue as to whether it was six a.m. or six p.m. She supposed it didn’t matter. One way or another, there would be hell to pay.

Sliding off the bed, Megan moved to her door and cautiously cracked it open. Voices floated up from downstairs, one of them clearly her mother’s. Since her mother never got up before seven thirty if she could help it, it had to be evening.

She made her way down the stairs with an anxious ball in the pit of her stomach. She was going to have some explaining to do, though she had no idea how much, because in her drugged state she could have said anything to her mother between meeting her in the airport and falling onto her bed. But the sound of other voices in the kitchen gave her a small measure of reassurance. Her mother’s voice was light and airy—her company voice. This was good news for Megan. No matter how upset she was, Nicole Vandemeer would never under any circumstances murder someone in front of guests. No matter how justified.

“. . . Megan hardly told us anything,” her mother was saying as Megan approached the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with the details,” a man’s voice said. Why did he sound familiar?

“There she is!” Nicole Vandemeer exclaimed, clasping her hands together in glee. She was in full-on hostess mode, but she seemed even more enthusiastic than was warranted by a mere guest. “Megan! We were just talking about you!”

Had the Dramamine transported her to some sort of bizarre world?

Three people sat at the kitchen island, their backs to her, while her mother stood in front of the commercial gas cooktop, a martini glass in her hand. In tandem, the people on the barstools turned to face her. Her grandmother gave her a big smile and her father nodded, a twinkle in his eye. But it was the third person that made the floor turn to molasses.

Mr. McMillan, the man who had sat next to her on the airplane, was sitting at her parents’ kitchen counter.

Of course it couldn’t be true.

She squinted her eyes tight, trying to reboot her brain, but when she opened them, he was still there, giving her a hesitant smile. Which left only one solution.

She turned around and headed back to her room without another word. Maybe if she went back to bed, she could lie down and hit the restart button, waking up in reality.

“Megan!” her mother shouted after her. “Where are you going? Come officially introduce us to your fiancé!”

Oh, God. She really was hallucinating. Maybe this was some kind of psychotic break induced by extreme stress and pharmaceuticals.

“Megan, come back right now!” Her mother’s tone bordered on slipping out of character. If Megan pushed her over the edge, the consequences would be worse than she felt capable of handling at the moment. “You’re being incredibly rude. Is that how they do things in the Pacific West?”

Megan cringed. Nope. This was real. Her mother was the only person on earth who dropped the North from Pacific Northwest.

Megan turned around and walked back into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. Mr. McMillan studied her with an expressionless face. What in the hell was he doing here? What had he told them?

As if reading her mind—or perhaps her face—he jumped out of his seat and walked over to her. “Hey, honey. How are you feeling?”

She looked up at him, dumbfounded. Why was he smiling at her like that? Scratch that, why was he calling her honey? “What the . . . How did you get here?”

“We picked him up from the airport, of course. Josh told us what happened,” her mother said, her voice light and breezy again. “He told us that you got airsick when you flew to Phoenix last year, so you took Dramamine on this trip as a preventive measure. You should have seen the way Josh took care of you when you got off the plane.” She gave Josh a look of approval.

Leave it to her mother to wait to give her elusive stamp of approval to a fake boyfriend.

“Wait. Josh . . . ?”

Mr. McMillan put an arm around Megan’s back, his hand resting on her hip, warm and surprisingly comforting. “I told your parents how you insist on calling me Jay even though my name is Josh.”

She shook her head in confusion. “What?” Was this some weird joke, or had she just woken up in the Twilight Zone?

He gave her a patient smile. “Sweetheart, you must still be out of it. Your parents were filling me in on the wedding plans. I know you wanted it to be a surprise, but it’s only a couple of days now. It sounds just as remarkable as I knew it would be.”

She was wrong. This wasn’t a hallucination. This was a nightmare. Anger blazed to life in her stomach, quickly spreading up through her chest. She clenched her hands into fists.

“Why didn’t you bring this young man home sooner, pumpkin?” her father asked. “I can tell he’s going to fit right in with our family.”

Was that supposed to be a good thing?

“And he’s got a cute patootie,” her grandmother added. “I think you kids call it an ass.”

“Gram!” Megan protested in shock.

Josh laughed, his hand pulling her closer. “Funny, Megan was saying the same thing today in the airport.”

Megan’s jaw dropped as she glared at him in disbelief.

Gram shook her head. “For the life of me, I don’t know why you would call someone’s back end an ass. Especially a cute one. Don’t you kids know that an ass is a donkey?”

Megan didn’t take her gaze off Josh for a moment, her temper about to blow. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing—”

Before she realized what was happening, he cupped her cheek and kissed her, his lips soft but insistent. She put her balled hands on his chest with the intention of pushing him away, but her heart began to race in spite of itself, and she leaned closer, inexplicably drawn to him as her anger bled out and her hands relaxed. His muscles were firm below her fingertips and her knees began to weaken, but the arm he’d looped around her back held her up. If this was a dream, she decided she wasn’t ready to wake up.

Josh lifted his face, looking slightly dazed for a moment before he turned toward her family, still holding her in his arms. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I just love her so much I can’t stop myself sometimes.”

Megan gaped at him as if she’d just had a lobotomy. The way her brain felt at the moment, it probably wasn’t too far off.

“He doesn’t look like a donkey,” her grandmother said in a smug tone.

“Aww . . .” her mother cooed. “That’s so precious. Your wedding is going to be the talk of the summer at the country club.”

Megan was speechless again, but this time for an entirely different reason. What had just happened?

The door to the garage opened, and Megan turned to see her older brother filling the opening, a duffel bag in his hand.

“Get a room,” he groaned with a grin.

“Kevin!” She broke free from Josh’s hold and ran to her brother, throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“Hey, squirt!” He dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around her back, lifting her several inches off the ground as he swung her in a circle.

“Kevin! Put her down!” their mother shouted. “If you break her leg, she’ll never be able to walk down the aisle on Saturday!”

He put her down and playfully tugged a lock of her hair. “I’m not going to break her leg. I already did that when we were kids. No point in doing it again.” Kevin picked her up again and swung her for several seconds more before setting her on her feet. He gave her a mischievous grin, then winked.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised by how happy she was to see him.

“Rumor has it that my baby sister is getting married. I took leave so I could put the fear of God into your fiancé,” he said. He narrowed his eyes on Josh, his voice taking on an air of authority. He had been teasing before, but not now. This was one of the reasons why Megan had never brought her boyfriends home when she was in high school and college. Kevin loved to intimidate any male who got within ten feet of her. But then, he’d always had a way of intimidating anyone. The Marines seemed like a natural fit for him. “So are you finally gonna introduce me to the man you’re marrying in three days?”

Her brother’s words sobered her. “Actually . . .” She took a breath for strength, her stomach knotting equally with nerves and irritation. “There’s something I need to tell all of you—”

“Sweetheart,” Josh said, glancing at her brother, then giving her a strained look. “I know you’re still irritated with me over our argument at the airport in Seattle, but there’s no reason to drag your family into it.”

She shot him a glare. Who was this guy, and what in the hell was his endgame? One thing was for sure—she wasn’t about to find out in front of her mother.

Gritting her teeth, she marched toward him and grabbed his wrist, her nails digging deeper than necessary as she tugged him to the doorway. “He’s right. I’m still pissed at him, and we need to get this straightened out.”

“Megan!” her mother shouted after her. “You’re being incredibly rude.”

But Megan ignored her as she climbed the stairs and dragged him into her room. It wasn’t until she shut the door behind them that she realized she was still holding onto his wrist. She dropped it as though he were on fire.

“What the hell is going on?” she demanded. “Is this some kind of sick joke?”

He shook his head. “No! It’s a giant misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding? A misunderstanding is when you order french fries and get onion rings. The fact that my parents think a stranger is my fiancé is not a misunderstanding. It’s a disaster. How could you let this happen?”

His face froze with fear. “Please tell me that you remember sitting by me on the plane.”

“I remember that part.” She rubbed her hand over her forehead as if to banish the lingering headache. “You sat down and I accused you of being a terrorist. Then I made fun of the flight attendant and stole your drink.” She cringed in embarrassment. “Everything else is fuzzy after that.”

“You don’t remember getting off the plane?”

“No.”

“The flight attendant was going to call security, so I helped you off. I had to carry you over my shoulder because you couldn’t walk, and I got the impression that security wasn’t going to help you find your mother. The flight attendant had it in for you.”

Think, Megan. Think.

She scrunched her eyes shut to remember how she got into this situation. “I vaguely remember telling her she couldn’t have your babies. Then you dragged me away.” She glanced up, putting her hands on her hips. “While I appreciate you for helping me not get arrested by a federal marshal, that doesn’t explain how you ended up here. As my fiancé.”

He raised his hands in surrender, his eyes pleading with hers, and damned if her breath didn’t catch. Her pulse quickened just at the sight of him. Of course, it didn’t help that their kiss was so fresh in her memory.

“You couldn’t walk and you were talking nonsense, so like I said, the only way I knew how to get you out of the terminal without leaving our bags behind was to carry you over my shoulder. But people thought I was abducting you, so I told them that you were my fiancée.” He heaved out a sigh of frustration. “Your family heard me and thought I was Jay. And then I got stuck.”

Everything made perfect sense, but something about his delivery was off.

He narrowed his eyes, and she could practically feel the judgment rolling off him. “Have they really never seen him before?”

“No,” she said sharply, putting her hands on her hips. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Not even photos?” His brow lifted as though a new idea had occurred to him. “Wait. Does he even exist?”

Her mouth dropped in shock. “Of course he exists!”

“Then why no photos?”

Her back stiffened. “I have some photos of him. Just not very many. And I guess they’re a little blurry.”

“You have to admit that’s pretty weird, since you were supposedly together for two years.”

She gasped. “Who are you to judge me? You’ve been conscious and coherent all day, yet you were just sitting in a strange woman’s kitchen pretending to be her fiancé!”

“Now, Megan. I wouldn’t call you strange. A little eccentric maybe.”

She balled her fists and groaned in frustration. “Are you some creepy stalker? How did you know I’d been with Jay two years?”

“Your mother. She’s very chatty when she’s in a good mood.”

She covered her face with her hands. “I still don’t understand how this happened.” Dropping her arms to her sides, she glared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you. Your parents thought I was your fiancé.”

“I mean, why didn’t you correct them?”

He quirked his brow and smirked at her. “Says the woman who’s getting married in three days to a made-up groom.”

She stomped her foot. “I did not make him up!”

He began to pace at the foot of her bed, his pure masculinity a sharp contrast to the white and lavender ruffled comforter. “Look, in hindsight, it probably wasn’t the smartest decision to call you my fiancée when I left the terminal—especially after you told me that your mother was picking you up—but I didn’t know what else to do. I tried to explain the misunderstanding, but before I knew it, I was riding in your mother’s Navigator to Blue Springs, Missouri.” He spun around to stare at her. “Your mother is frightening.”

“I told you!”

He grabbed her hand and sat down on the bed, guiding her to sit next to him. “Look. You need someone to stand in for your fake boyfriend—”

“He’s not fake!”

“—and your parents think I’m him. We can make this work for you.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, ignoring the fact that his touch sent flutters through her stomach. She jerked her hand free.

If he was offended, he didn’t let on. “We’ll let them continue to think I’m here to marry you. Then I’ll act like a jerk and break up with you in front of them. That way I’ll take all the blame, which gets you off the hook. You have to admit that it’s the perfect plan. Your mother won’t kill you, and you might not even have to return all those toasters.”

“I didn’t register for toasters. I registered for a bagel oven.”

He looked taken aback. “You seriously registered for your fake wedding? How far were you going to take this anyway?”

She gritted her teeth, seething. “I had a fiancé. His name is Jay Connors. He’s an investment banker, and he lives in downtown Seattle in a condo that overlooks Puget Sound.”

His head jerked back in disgust. “An investment banker. You can’t be serious.”

“What’s wrong with dating an investment banker?”

“Nothing. If you were really engaged to one. But if you made the guy up, you could have at least given him a more exciting career. Like a firefighter. Or a trapeze artist.”

“And what is it that you do, Mr. McMillan?”

“I’m an entrepreneur.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like that’s any better. Isn’t that a fancy way of saying you don’t know what to do with your life?”

He ignored her insult and pressed on. “What do your parents know about me?”

“They don’t know anything! I just met you.”

“Not me. Him. Your fake fiancé. The one you made up.”

“I didn’t make him up!” she shouted.

“Then show me a photo.”

“I don’t have to prove a damn thing to you.”

He smirked in triumph.

Damn him. Why did she care what he thought? Yet she found herself digging her phone out of her purse anyway. She scrolled through her photos, then stopped. “Here’s a picture of us at a Seahawks game.”

Josh took the phone and stared at it for several seconds. “This? That looks like you’ve photoshopped your head into a bad photo of James Van Der Beek.”

“The guy from Dawson’s Creek? I’m more than a little frightened you know who he is.”

He shrugged. “Hey, my college girlfriend Trisha was obsessed with that show. I watched it with her. You could have used a photo of Brad Pitt or someone more current, you know.”

“Wouldn’t that be kind of obvious?”

He lifted his brow with a smirk. “So you admit it’s a fake.”

“I didn’t fake this photo!” She took a deep breath to regain control. Pressing her lips together, she gave a slight nod before continuing in an ultra-calm voice. “So his face isn’t very clear. The camera on my phone sucks.”

He tossed the phone back to her. “I’m not convinced, but that’s not the point,” he added when she opened her mouth to protest. “We have a mission.” He made sure he had her full attention. “I’ll make myself look like an ass and break up with you, saving you from your mother’s wrath.”

She narrowed her eyes, her suspicion building. “Why would you do this?”

“Because I’m a nice guy.” He grinned, his whole face lighting up, and in that moment she could see why the bitchy flight attendant had been so determined to snag him. If she hadn’t been so suspicious of his motives, it would be easy to fall for that grin.

“Try again.”

He shrugged with a good-natured smile. “I have my reasons.” When she started to talk, he cut her off. “Look, I’m here in Kansas City for family reasons. I’d prefer not to be here at all—no offense—but this gives me a chance to procrastinate and not deal with the drama.”

She of all people could understand avoiding family issues, but wasn’t impersonating someone’s fiancé a bit extreme? Then again, she’d flown home to her own wedding with no groom, so who was she to judge?

“How do I know you’re not a thief? Or a murderer. Maybe you’re waiting until the middle of the night and you plan to kill us all in our sleep.”

“You have a very active imagination. It makes me wonder even more about the existence of your boyfriend. Why would I go to so much trouble?”

“I don’t know,” she said, annoyed. “How would I know how a serial killer thinks?”

“First I’m a terrorist, and now I’m a serial killer? I think you need to make up your mind.”

She gritted her teeth.

“I’m perfectly harmless.” He held his hands out at his sides. “I promise.”

She knew bullshit when she saw it. And she’d seen plenty of it in her dating life. Jay may not have been the most exciting man in the world, but at least she’d known what she was getting with him. Or at least she’d thought so until he pulled the rug out from under her. What were you supposed to do when even the “safe” guys, the ones you settled for, turned out to be cheats and liars?

She turned to Josh and jabbed her finger into his chest. “I don’t trust you.”

His smile didn’t even dim. “And you don’t have to. Just let me break up with you, and then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Fine.” She sighed. “Let’s go get it over with.”

He held up his hands. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. We’re not breaking up tonight.”

“What? Why not?”

“We can’t. How suspicious would that look if we were just super sweet to each other and then I suddenly broke up with you? Your parents might see through it and realize you made up your boyfriend.”

“I did not make up my boyfriend!” she hissed, trying to keep her voice down.

“That’s a moot point,” he said, acting far too calm, considering the situation. “We need to focus.”

She took a deep breath, ready to vent her frustration. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d been this angry. Fights with Jay had run more ice cold and passive-aggressive.

“Fine,” she huffed. “Since this is your crazy scheme, I take it you have some kind of plan.”

“Tonight we act like a couple in love, then tomorrow, I’ll start acting like an ass.”

“You’re doing a pretty good job right now,” she said, eyebrows raised. “You take this bossy, condescending show on the road, and you’re golden.”

He heaved out a breath. “Do you want me to help you or not? If you’d prefer, I’ll call a taxi and have them come pick me up now. Then you can explain everything yourself.”

Her shoulders tensed. “You wouldn’t.”

He grinned. “Try me.”

“You’re an ass.”

“You already said that,” he laughed. “Oh, wait. No, you said you liked my ass.”

“Not likely,” she said in a snide tone, but she couldn’t be sure if she was telling the truth. Megan couldn’t remember saying any such thing, but her gram was right. He had a nice one. Alcohol had a tendency to make her spew out all kinds of truths, embarrassing or not.

Focus, Megan.

She began to pace. If she were smart, she’d march downstairs and tell her family everything, but that had never been her style. Yes, avoidance had been Megan Vandemeer’s philosophy long before this man had come into her life. The fact that she’d immediately broken it off with Jay after finding out he was screwing his secretary—and had been for months—was a huge step for her.

She stopped and turned to face the man in her room. Could he really be the answer to her problem?

“Did my parents really buy the whole thing about me calling you Jay even though your name is Josh?”

“Never questioned it.”

A knock on the door and Megan’s mother’s voice stopped her. “Megan? Is everything okay in there?”

The blood rushed from Megan’s head. How much had her mother heard?

Josh reached forward and opened the door, then stepped back next to Megan.

Her mother stood in the threshold looking suspicious. “What are you two up to? Megan, did you say you’d had an argument?” Her disapproving tone made it clear who she blamed for said argument.

Josh snaked his arm around Megan’s waist and pulled her close. “Sorry we disappeared like that, Mrs. Vandemeer. We had a small disagreement before, but we worked everything out. I’ve been ignoring my little lovebug lately.” He tapped Megan’s nose with his index finger, giving her a smug smile that dared her to contradict him. Then he turned to face her mother. “I’ve been really busy at work for the past few weeks, trying to clear my plate so I could get away for the wedding and honeymoon, so . . .”

Megan’s mother frowned. “But Megan said you were too busy to get away for a honeymoon. I thought you were flying straight back to Seattle after this weekend so you could head to work on Monday morning.”

Josh’s mouth dropped open. “What?” He turned to look at Megan with a wide smile. “What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t take my bride on a honeymoon?” He gave her mother a sheepish grin. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” Then he turned back to Megan. “Surprise, honey!”

Megan’s mother placed her hand on her chest, beaming. “I told Megan she needed to go on a honeymoon, but she swore you couldn’t get away and she didn’t want one. Where are you taking her?”

“Well . . . uh . . .”

“Yes, honey,” Megan said, lifting an eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

“Uh . . .” He truly looked stymied for a moment, but then he said, “The Caribbean,” acting as if it were a revelation.

“That’s wonderful!” her mother gushed. “Which island?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable.

“Which island?”

Megan decided to take pity on him. She still didn’t trust him, and she was certain there was more to his motives than he was letting on, but he’d saved her twice. She owed him something. “I bet it’s the Virgin Islands, isn’t it? Ever since we met, I’ve been telling Josh how much I wanted to go there.”

“That’s it!” Josh exclaimed. “But now I’ve ruined the surprise.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Megan drawled, patting his cheek harder than necessary. “You’re just one surprise after another.”

He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulling it down to his chest, where he held it over his heart. Laying it on a bit thick?

“You still didn’t explain what you’re doing up here,” her mother said.

Megan was irritated. She was twenty-nine years old and her mother was still trying to control her.

Josh intervened. “Like I said, I’ve been working a lot . . . which means I haven’t spent a lot of time with Megan lately.” He dropped her hand and wrapped his other arm around her as he pulled her to his chest. “I assumed that you and Mr. Vandemeer would want us to sleep in separate rooms until the wedding, so I figured we could enjoy a little time alone together since we were already up here. If you know what I mean.” He winked.

Megan couldn’t believe he’d just said that to her mother. She kicked his shin, but his smile barely wavered.

Her mother’s face turned a pretty pink, which Megan didn’t find surprising. Everything her mother did only enhanced her beauty and sophistication. She wasn’t an ugly crier, so of course her blush would look like blush, not like the ugly splotches Megan got when she was embarrassed. There had never been any question as to why her father had married the Southern belle from Atlanta, who still carried her Southern accent around like a badge of honor. But she’d found it impossible to live in her shadow.

Her mother reached for the diamond pendant at the base of her neck. “Bart and I understand young love. We’re not that old-fashioned. You’re both grown adults, days away from your wedding. We know you . . . do things . . . in Seattle. So Josh, we put your bag in here with Megan’s.” She gestured to the suitcase Megan hadn’t noticed until precisely that moment.

Josh’s arms stiffened around Megan. “I wouldn’t want to offend—”

“Don’t be silly.” She waved him off with one hand. “But save the hanky-panky for later and come down to the kitchen. The guests are arriving in twenty minutes.”

“Guests?” Megan gasped.

Megan’s mother shook her head. “Really, Megan. Don’t you listen to a word I say?” She released an exaggerated sigh. “I told you about this months ago.”

Megan hadn’t paid attention. Her mother had gone mother-of-the-bridezilla with planning the details for the wedding, down to the exact size of the lovebirds her mother had monogrammed onto an old handkerchief—seven-eighths of an inch by five-eighths—and Megan had done her best to tune it all out. She was now regretting that decision.

“I had a feeling something like this would happen,” her mother said. She pointed to the dresser along the far wall. “I made you both an itinerary for the rest of the week so you know where you need to be and when.”

Josh glanced at the dresser, but Megan kept her attention on her mother. “So we need to be downstairs in twenty minutes?” Obviously her mother wasn’t interested in volunteering what was planned for the evening. She’d need to read it in whatever booklet—or, knowing her mother, tome—was placed on the dresser.

Her mother rolled her eyes. Even that looked pretty on her. “Not quite. The guests arrive in twenty minutes. I need you downstairs pronto to help finish setting up.” She took a step toward the door before turning back. “And Megan . . . you should consider putting on some fresh clothes and touching up your makeup a bit. You look like you’ve been on a two-day drinking binge.”

She made an exaggerated grimace, then walked out the door toward the stairs.

“I’m not sure whether to be horrified or amused that your mother called what we were doing hanky-panky,” Josh said, shivering as though he’d narrowly escaped a brush with death.

But Megan ignored him, shutting the bedroom door—a little louder than normal but not as loud as she wanted—then running into the Jack and Jill bathroom off her room and flipping on the light.

“Ohmygawd!” she gushed in horror. Her mascara was smeared under her eyes, and her hair looked like it belonged to a creative child’s Barbie. Her natural waves had ratted into a huge mess on the right side of her head, where she’d been leaning against the plane window. She’d just had a conversation with Josh—and he’d kissed her—looking like . . . this.

“Your mother thinks we’re going to sleep together tonight,” he said from the bedroom.

“I know. I was privy to the conversation.” She opened the linen closet and grabbed a washrag and stuck it under the running water.

“So what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. I have bigger issues to worry about.”

“Your makeup? Honestly, you don’t look that bad.”

“Maybe not for a zombie!” she moaned.

“Why are you so worked up?”

“I looked like this—” she pointed to her reflection in the mirror, “—down there.” She pointed to the door.

“So?”

“So?” She shook her head, trying to swallow the burning lump in her throat. “You obviously wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

I will not cry. I will not cry. Why on earth did she care so much about what the man in the next room thought? Soon he’d be gone and she’d never see him again. But she couldn’t ignore the way that kiss had felt . . .

But even though she was mortified he’d seen her this way, it wasn’t what was really bothering her. How could she even explain it? She’d spent most of the first eighteen years of her life trying to live up to her mother’s expectations, and she’d come up short each and every time. The last time she’d been home was last fall, to shop for her wedding. Trying on wedding dresses was supposed to be a magical experience, but with her mother in the room, each gown had felt like a gunnysack. Not to mention they hadn’t seen eye to eye on any of the details for the reception and ceremony. Ultimately, she’d just given in and allowed Nicole Vandemeer to have what she wanted. So to come home and face the humiliation that would inevitably result when her mother found out the truth . . .

Tears welled in her eyes.

She should shove Josh out the door and confess to her family, but she couldn’t bear it. How much more embarrassing would it be if her mother assumed she’d hired this guy, some attractive stranger, to act as her fiancé? Because that’s inevitably where her mother’s mind would go. No, the answer was simple.

She and Josh needed to stage an epic breakup.

Chapter Five

He hadn’t meant to kiss her. Despite the fact that he was posing as her fiancé, he hadn’t given any thought to the probability that they’d have to have some type of physical contact if she agreed to play along. His sole strategy was to find proof that Bart Vandemeer’s company had stolen his design. Once he did, he’d never have to see these people again.

But something had changed when he kissed her.

He’d figured out a plan on the way home from the airport. Nicole Vandemeer kept herself so busy reciting every last detail about the wedding that all he had to do was nod and say “uh-huh” every so often, and she was none the wiser that he was plotting his revenge on her husband.

Josh had to admit that Bart Vandemeer wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d envisioned someone more ruthless, although he wasn’t sure why. After all, there was no proof Megan’s father was responsible for stealing Josh’s design. In fact, his only piece of flimsy evidence pointed to Drew Peterman, Bart’s partner’s son. But even if Bart wasn’t knowingly involved, he was still responsible—he should have asked the right questions when the design was so abruptly submitted.

And then there was Megan’s wedding. Megan had told him it was a twenty-five-thousand-dollar affair, but based on the details her mother had given him, he suspected the total was much higher . . . which begged the question of where all that money was coming from.

He’d tried to quiz Bart about his business, just a future son-in-law making polite conversation, but Nicole had tried her best to steer the conversation away from business, frustrating Josh to no end.

One of the things Nicole had blathered on about had made an impression—she was hosting a massive party for him and Megan that evening. Josh hoped to take advantage of the distraction so he could search Bart’s home office. He’d heard Nicole mention that it was upstairs. Josh could pretend he needed to use the bathroom and then find the home office and search it before anyone would be the wiser. He also considered trying to steal the older man’s keys for a visit to his actual office, but Josh didn’t want to resort to such drastic measures. It was bad enough he was impersonating Megan’s fiancé; he wasn’t ready to jump the shark and resort to breaking and entering just yet. He’d save that for tomorrow night if need be.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out, not surprised to see that his own office was trying to reach him. He sent the call to voice mail. He knew it wasn’t his brother, who always called from his cell. It was probably Angie, their business manager. Though they hadn’t told anyone they were in danger of losing their investor’s support, Angie was perceptive and had somehow caught on to the fact that they were in dire straits. She’d tried to pry the truth out of both men, but neither one had caved. Still, Josh was usually predictable. He didn’t take unexplained and unplanned trips, so Angie had probably flipped her lid when he didn’t show up today. All the more reason to ignore her call. He couldn’t handle talking to her right now . . . and he definitely couldn’t do it with Megan Vandemeer in the next room.

His entire company was depending on him to save them, whether they knew it or not. So why did he keep thinking about kissing his enemy’s daughter?

He was still desperate to find the information, yes, but his traitorous mind kept thinking about her body pressed against his, the way she’d kissed him back, her lips warm and soft.

Damn it.

He needed to stop thinking about kissing her and focus on getting the information he needed to save his engineering firm. The real purpose of this trip.

It had seemed like a great lead a few hours ago—the perfect answer to his dilemma. Now he was conflicted.

After Megan’s parents and grandmother had accepted him as her fiancé at the airport, they’d moved to the baggage carousel to pick up Megan’s bags.

He’d set Megan down in a chair, her head flopping to the side like a rag doll’s. She stirred and blinked up at him after a moment.

“Hey,” she mumbled, jabbing her fingertip into his chest. “I know you.”

He forced his voice to stay light and amused when he answered, “I should hope so, honey.”

She shook her head and his chest tightened with anxiety that the jig was likely up, but she closed her eyes, muttering, “I said I want the red ones.”

“Red ones what?” Gram asked.

Nicole rolled her eyes. “She’s talking nonsense, Mother. She’s drunk.” She spit the last part out as though announcing that Megan was Mussolini in disguise.

Josh was about to come to Megan’s defense when her father walked up.

“What’s her luggage look like?” Bart had asked. “How many does she have?”

He knew the answer since she’d mentioned she’d packed only one bag, but what on earth did they look like? “Uh . . .” He was never going to be able to pull this off. What had possessed him to try? He didn’t know anything about this woman other than that her fiancé had cheated on her and that she was terrified of her mother. Oh, and she thought he had a nice ass. Think.

“We didn’t drive to the airport together,” he blurted out. “I met her at the gate. I know she has one bag, but I’m not sure which one she used.”

“Don’t you worry,” Bart said, waving him to sit beside Megan. “We’ll figure it out.”

Within ten minutes, Bart had pulled a pink floral suitcase off the conveyer belt and was rolling it out the door. Nicole Vandemeer decreed that everyone else would wait for Bart to bring the car around, but after five minutes of doing just as she’d set out to do, Nicole grew impatient and decided to wait by the exit. Josh suspected that she was embarrassed to be seen next to her unconscious daughter.

Megan’s grandmother plopped into the seat next to his and studied him. “You’re not what I expected.”

He swallowed, keeping his gaze on Nicole, whose posture was finishing-school straight as she stood in front of the sliding glass doors. Nicole Vandemeer hadn’t been what he’d expected either. “Oh?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “How so?”

“Your smile.”

Josh blinked in surprise. “What does that mean?”

“Megan may not talk to her mother very often, but she talks to me. She tries to make like everything’s okay, but something in her voice tells me otherwise.”

Josh stared at her, unsure of what to say.

Her grandmother patted his hand. “I’m glad you smile. Megan needs more smiles.” She cast a frown toward Megan’s mother, the older woman’s daughter.

Bart had just pulled up, saving him from answering. Josh tried to wake Megan and managed to hoist her to her feet, albeit unsteadily, for long enough to get her strapped into a seat in the SUV. The whole time she kept mumbling something about gingerbread houses. The derisive looks Nicole kept casting at her made him want to avenge her in some way. But that wasn’t his purpose for being here, and it definitely wasn’t his problem.

Now, several hours later, as he stood in her bathroom doorway while she prepared for whatever social function the queen had organized, he realized he still felt that way. He wanted to help Megan—and not just because of what she could do for him.

“Go look at the itinerary,” she said, swiping mascara on her upper eyelashes. “We need to know what we’re facing down there.”

He walked over to the dresser and picked up one of two bound binders. The cover was inscribed with the words The Wedding of Megan and Jay in bold calligraphy. One booklet had Megan written in the upper right corner, and the other read Jay.

He opened the book on top—Jay’s—and flipped through the pages. The next three days were strictly regimented with a minute-to-minute schedule and detailed descriptions of all the activities. The entries were color-coded with highlighters, and there was a corresponding color key at the bottom of the first page.

Oh. My. God.

But even worse was the fact that Mrs. Vandemeer had booked most of the next three days of his life. How was he going to find the evidence he needed if he was required to be at all the places listed on those pages?

“Well?” Megan called out to him. “What is it?”

Oh, God. Friday morning he was scheduled for a men’s mani-pedi. Who did that?

“Josh!”

“Uh . . .” Terror washed through his body. What in the hell had he gotten himself into? “Uh . . .” He scanned the page. “Oh, your mom told me about this one. Seven p.m. Poolside cocktail party.”

“A cocktail party?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Shit.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, still in the binder’s horrific thrall. “Is that bad?”

She stopped applying her mascara and glanced over at him. “It’s not good. Do you have nice clothes? A dress shirt and a tie?”

He blinked. “Yeah.”

“Really?”

He shot her a sideways glare. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She stormed out of the bathroom and squatted next to her suitcase before glancing up at him. “What are you waiting for?”

He tossed the binder on the dresser, then hefted his overnight bag onto the bed and unzipped it.

Megan came over holding a pale blue dress, and then started to dig through his clothes.

“Hey!”

She tugged out a shirt. “The white shirt with the blue tie.”

“You’re dressing me?”

“You want to sign up for this gig, it’s part of it. She’ll expect us to be color-coordinated. Did the itinerary say if there was a color scheme?”

“A color scheme?” He shook his head. “God, no.”

“Good. Get dressed.” She left him standing at the foot of her bed as she disappeared behind the bathroom door.

He could wear his jeans with the shirt and tie, but he suspected Megan’s mother would flip her lid. And while that would be amusing to say the least, he needed to stay on her good side, at least until he found his evidence. He dug a pair of dress pants out of his bag and set them on the bed, waiting for Megan to emerge from the bathroom so he could change. He heard Nicole’s muffled voice calling from downstairs.

“Megan!”

He decided not to wait for the bathroom to be free. His goal was to charm Nicole Vandemeer, and so far he was succeeding. No need to be late for the first event on her endless schedule. He stripped off his shirt and slipped an arm into one of the sleeves of the button-down shirt as the bathroom door opened.

Megan stood in the doorway in a light blue sundress, and he stopped dressing, his second arm partially in the sleeve.

The sight of her sucked his breath away. Megan Vandemeer was a stunningly beautiful woman. And Jay Connors was a fool.

They stared at each other for several seconds before she looked away.

“You can use the bathroom now,” she mumbled, her cheeks flushing.

“Thanks.” But he stayed in place, pulling his shirt on the rest of the way and starting to button it.

Her gaze moved to the bed and then to his face. “Keep the jeans.”

“But I figured your mother would have a fit.”

Megan glanced up at him through long dark eyelashes, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. “She’ll hate it. That’s why you should wear them.”

“So you want me to piss your mother off? After you freaked out about upsetting her?”

“That’s different,” she said, picking up his tie off the bed. “You get to make an exit from this horror show. I have to live with her for at least another thirty years.”

She looped the tie around his neck, and in that instant he knew he was in deep, deep shit. He forced his breathing to remain normal even though his heart raced. Did she even know how sexy she was right now, knotting his tie at the base of his throat?

She finished her task and appraised him. “I guess you’ll do.”

“You guess?”

She turned her attention to her suitcase and started digging around for something.

“We need a story,” he forced out.

“What?”

“People are going to ask questions. We need to tell them the same thing. Does your family know how you met your fiancé?”

She turned her head and gave him a wry grin. “So you acknowledge his existence now?”

He almost laughed out loud. How he’d enjoyed riling her up about her fake fiancé.

“You showed me his blurry picture, right? But I still question his existence, if only based on the fact that the man has to be an idiot of epic proportions.” Why did he admit that? Focus, Josh. Focus. There was only a week left until everything was lost. He needed to do what he’d come here to do and that was it.

She glanced down. “No. They hardly know anything.”

“So how did we meet?”

“Friends set us up.”

“Where was our first date?”

“At Six Seven Restaurant, overlooking the sound.”

“Classy and romantic. And how did our first date go?”

She stood, holding a pair of sandals in her hand. She flashed him a teasing grin. “You were smitten with me. I found you barely tolerable.”

He stared into her twinkling eyes as she looked up at him. “And did any of that really happen on your first date with your fiancé?”

Her smile faded, making him regret the question. “No. We met at a bar downtown for drinks. He declared us compatible. We each paid for our own tab and agreed to try dinner the next week.”

“Sounds very . . . calculated.”

“That’s Jay for you.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond. Based on what little he knew of her, he couldn’t imagine her happy with someone like that. “When did you guys move in together?”

“We didn’t.” He expected her to sound bitter. She only sounded resigned.

Rather than commenting, he moved on to the next question. “What do you do?”

She sat on the bed and slipped on her shoes. “I’m a fundraiser for an environmental nonprofit.” She glanced up, blowing away a strand of hair that fell in her face. “My mother finds it tacky that I’m paid to beg people for money. She says I could at least have chosen a well-respected cause. Suffice it to say, she wishes I would do something else.”

“I bet.”

“They know Jay’s an investment banker . . . that he works long hours.”

“What else did you tell them about Jay . . . ahem . . . I mean me?”

She smiled slightly as she stood, brushing out her skirt. “That you bought a condo in downtown Seattle overlooking the Sound because it was a good investment. I was going to move in after the wedding. You’re from Seattle. You have one brother and two parents . . . Oh, and they aren’t coming to the wedding.”

“Why not?” he asked, astounded.

“They booked a cruise and got the wedding date mixed up. They would have lost nearly ten thousand dollars.”

He whistled. “Damn, it must be some cruise . . .”

“It’s a private yacht in the Mediterranean. And Mom had already booked the botanical garden, so she couldn’t change the date since we’re getting married in June. She was lucky she got the date at all.” Noticing his blank stare, she added, “That’s where the wedding and reception are. The Powell Gardens.”

“And my brother?”

“He’s not coming either. He couldn’t get away from work.”

“Wow. Was anyone from this jerk’s side coming to the wedding?”

She cringed. “A couple of friends. But obviously they aren’t coming now.”

From what Josh had heard, he wasn’t surprised. What an ass. “Let’s try to stick together tonight. That way there’s less of a chance we’ll get our stories mixed up.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Don’t you worry. I have no intention of leaving you alone. I have no idea what you are up to, but I’m going to keep an eye on you.”

He flashed her his charming smile and held his hands out from his sides. “I already told you; I’m trying to avoid my family drama.”

“By jumping into mine?” She sounded even more skeptical than before.

“Hey, anybody else’s family drama is preferable to your own. Besides—” he flashed her what he hoped was a beguiling grin, “—I told you that this is mutually beneficial.”

“Part of me wants to believe you, but nobody goes to this much trouble for someone they hardly know.”

“Megan!” Her mother’s muffled voice called up the stairs and through the closed door, louder than before.

“Maybe I’m just a nice guy.”

She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes as she studied him. “No. I don’t think so.”

He laughed. “You don’t think I’m nice?”

“Not in this. You’re up to something. But let me warn you—” she wrapped her fingers around his tie and pulled him closer, until their faces were no more than a foot apart, “—if you screw me over down there, I will make you suffer for the rest of your natural life. Do I make myself clear?”

The sight of her—her eyes wild and wicked with the promise of retribution—had the opposite effect of what she’d intended. His heart began to race and he had to restrain himself from closing the distance and kissing her. “Megan, I’m here to help you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently rubbed the tense knots. “You need to relax.”

She released his tie and brushed his hands away. “I’ll relax after we’ve broken up. And we’re breaking up tonight.” And with that, she stormed out the door.

Oh, shit.

Chapter Six

Josh stopped her in the hallway. “Wait. Why are we breaking up tonight? I thought we were going to wait.”

She shook her head. She didn’t have time for this. Her mother was going to be plenty furious as it was. “My mother’s party is the perfect place—in front of all her friends. There will be tons of witnesses to see that I’m the innocent in this and you’re the jerk. There’s no way she can blame me.”

“Don’t you think you’re being hasty?”

And there it was again, the voice in her head that said something was screwy here. “You make it sound like you don’t want to break up. What the hell kind of family drama are you facing in Kansas City anyway? It’s got to be pretty bad for you to throw your plans away and become my substitute fiancé. You don’t even know me. And don’t give me some bullshit answer.” She knew she could demand all she wanted, but she was at his mercy. She had no leverage in this negotiation whatsoever, and they both knew it.

His eyes softened. “Have you have ever been in a situation where you couldn’t see a way out, so you gave up and left it to fate to work everything out?” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh, wait. You do know what that’s like. You’re living it right now.”

Now he was just pissing her off.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Believe it or not, that’s what’s going on with me, too. You said I looked determined when I sat down on the plane. I came to Kansas City because my family business is a mess and I’m making a last-ditch effort to save it.”

When she didn’t answer, he continued.

“Megan, I sat down on that plane and realized I didn’t have a clue how to save my business. Then you waltzed into my life. I swear to you, I inadvertently told your parents I was your fiancé. But once your parents thought it was true, I figured what the hell? After all, you were in a messy situation, too, and I had just given my life over to fate. I believe in karma. Maybe if I help you out, fate will help me out, too.”

She had to admit that he was pretty convincing, but something was off. “If your business is really failing and you’re here to save it, why would you want to hang out at my parents’ cocktail party tonight?” Then she gasped. “Oh! You’re planning to sell your snake oil to my parents’ wealthy friends!”

“What?”

She poked her finger into his chest. “If you so much as hint that you aren’t an investment banker, or if you try to sell insurance or vacation timeshares or crappy Tupperware to my parents’ friends, I will make you suffer. Is that understood?”

He clasped her hand between both of his, giving her a sweet smile. “Perfectly. But you’re not giving off a very loving vibe right now, sweetie. You don’t want your mother to think I’m breaking up with you because you’re a bitch.”

“What? How dare you—”

Before she could react, he kissed her again, pulling her flush against his body. This kiss was different than the one he’d given her downstairs. The previous kiss hadn’t exactly been chaste, but it had tested the line of inappropriate in front of her family. This kiss dropped all pretense. His hand tangled in her hair, and his tongue parted her lips with an intensity and urgency she hadn’t expected. And while some sane part of her knew she should resist, the rest of her eagerly welcomed it.

“Uh . . . Megan . . .” Her brother’s voice broke through her lust-filled haze.

That’s when reality set in. She was kissing this man, someone she’d only known for a matter of hours, in the upstairs hallway in her parents’ house. She tried to pull away from Josh, but his arms held her tight against him as she glanced over her shoulder.

Kevin stood at the top of the stairs, his bag in hand, looking very uncomfortable while he studied the wall. “I need to change.” His gaze returned to her. “And you’re in the way.”

Josh dropped one of his hands but kept the other around her as he pulled her out of Kevin’s way.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do.

Kevin moved toward them, looking into Josh’s eyes. “At least I know you love her. Megan likes to paint a pretty picture of you, but Gram and I talk . . . and what we’ve pieced together has left me with some major doubts about you.” His eyes grew cold. “Fair warning, buddy. If I find out that you hurt my sister in any way, I’m going to kick your ass. Is that clear?”

“Kevin!” Megan protested, even though guilt flooded through her for deceiving him. “I’m not fourteen years old, you know.”

Kevin’s face softened as he turned his attention to her. “Megan, you can be ninety and you’ll never stop being my baby sister. I will always kick the ass of any guy who hurts you.”

Pulling away from Josh, Megan rushed to her big brother and threw her arms around his neck, hanging onto him for dear life.

“Where were you last month?” Her voice cracked with emotion.

Kevin pulled her back and glared at Josh. “What happened last month?” His voice took on an ominous tone.

Oh, crap. What had possessed her to say that? But she hadn’t seen Kevin for years and she’d forgotten what an intimidating presence he had. Sometimes it was nice to think someone else, like her alpha male big brother, could help her with her problems. But at the moment, she needed to dig herself out of the hole she’d just dug. The problem was that Kevin tended to be perceptive as hell.

Megan gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing.” She dropped her hold on him. “I’m just all emotional with Mom and her big wedding plans.”

“Did he—?”

“No.” She grabbed Josh’s arm with both hands and leaned into him. “He’s great. A project at work had some issues, so it was a terrible month. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

Josh kissed the top of her head.

Kevin studied them, looking like he was still unsure whether to believe her.

“Megan!” her mother shouted.

“Crap,” Megan muttered. “She’s up to level three. She raised her voice.”

Kevin didn’t look like he wanted to let the subject drop, but he waved to the stairs behind him. “You better get down there. Her split personality is in full bloom.”

“Great.”

Kevin grimaced. “She may have been Miss Georgia, but she would have been much more effective as a third-world dictator.”

Didn’t Megan know it? She started down the stairs, but Josh snagged her hand and she looked back at him, searching his face for an explanation. What had happened back there? Her conversation with Kevin hadn’t done a thing to make her forget that kiss. She had to admit to herself she’d never reacted to a kiss like that. Part of her wanted to throw herself at him, even here on the steps, for a repeat performance.

Then it hit her.

She was an idiot. Josh had given her the single best kiss of her life to keep her brother from hearing their argument. That was the reason . . . the only one.

She tried to drop his hand, but he hung on, stopping at the bottom of the stairs and pulling her into an embrace. She tried to resist, but he leaned into her ear and whispered, “Your mother is watching.”

She forced herself to relax.

“I’m sorry about what just happened,” he continued, “but your brother was about to overhear us. In fact, from the look on his face and the way he wouldn’t let it drop, I think he heard some of our conversation. I didn’t mean to violate you like that. I was desperate.”

“I know,” she whispered back, fighting her disappointment at his confirmation. Had it really meant nothing to him? But of course it hadn’t. It was a ruse. As gorgeous as he was, he’d probably kissed plenty of women, beautiful blonds like the flight attendant. To him, kissing was likely as routine as flossing had been for Jay.

“Megan!” her mother said.

Megan broke loose and walked into the kitchen, Josh on her heels, prepared for the lecture that was sure to come.

Her mother’s nose wrinkled with a disapproving grimace. “Really, Megan. This party is for you and Jay—er, I mean Josh.” She shook her head, and—if possible—looked even more perturbed. “And why didn’t you bother to tell us he preferred Josh? We would have put it on all the invitations.”

Josh slipped an arm around her back, his hand resting on the rise of her hip. “It’s all my fault, Mrs. Vandemeer. On both counts. I insisted Megan help me figure out what to wear tonight, which made her late coming downstairs, and I told her to use Jay on everything for the wedding. My parents prefer it, and I wanted to honor that even if they couldn’t be here with us.”

Megan couldn’t believe how well the lies rolled off his tongue. She’d definitely have to keep that in mind. He might be helping her now, but he had some ulterior motive for doing so. Some instinct told her it had something to do with his mission to save his family business, but for the life of her she couldn’t make the connection.

Nicole Vandemeer’s face softened. “Aren’t you just too precious? Defending Megan like that. And I insist you call me Nicole.”

“Thank you, Nicole.” He tugged Megan closer and leaned his cheek on top of her head. “And I can’t help but defend her. She’s my damsel in distress.”

Megan wanted to kick him in the shin again for the pun he’d made for her benefit, but her mother would notice.

Megan’s mother got a dreamy look in her eyes. “Which makes you her white knight. This just makes the princess theme more perfect.”

“More like my court jester,” Megan mumbled, loud enough for only Josh to hear. But then she absorbed the second half of her mother’s statement. “Wait. What princess theme?”

Her mother scowled, picking up a tray of white bowls shaped like flowers and white candles. “Take these outside and set them up.” She handed the tray to Megan. “Be sure to light them, too.”

“Mom, what princess theme? You didn’t say anything about a princess theme last fall.”

“Now don’t you worry, Megan. I’ve got everything under control.” Without another word of explanation, she walked into the dining room, leaving Megan with the tray in her hands.

“Megan,” Josh said in a low voice. “Let’s take the candles outside.”

She glared up at him. “Why? So you can brownnose her some more?”

“That’s not fair. I was defending you.”

She shot him a hateful look. “I don’t need you to defend me.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. After all, consider why I’m here in the first place.”

“Exactly,” she spat. “Why are you here?”

Josh’s face was expressionless as he took the tray from her. “I’m here to help you, and you’re doing your best to make it difficult.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Which you’ve made abundantly clear. The way I see it, you have two options. One, we play this out, or two, I leave right now.”

He was right, which irked her to no end. Why was she so irritated with him anyway? Unless he was a secret cultist looking for recruits, so far he had been harmless enough. And he was right. He was helping her out of a situation she should have taken care of herself a month and a half ago. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

An infectious grin spread across his face. “Now was that so hard? Come on.”

He turned and headed for the French doors, leaving her to trail behind.

When she stepped out the back door, she gasped, stopping in her tracks next to an equally stunned Josh.

“What the hell . . . ?” he muttered.

“Oh. My. God.” The house had a multilayered deck with a pool at the edge. The yard had been re-landscaped a few years ago, and more features had been added since Megan’s visit last fall. A pool house/cabana had been installed, and the pool deck had been extended and was lined with flowerbeds and potted flowers. Several bistro-sized tables with chairs were arranged around the pool, and a buffet table covered in pale pink organza and a gathered white organza overlay was set up on one level of the deck. But that wasn’t what had so stunned them.

The entire area was tented with a soft white fabric lined with white twinkle lights, and a giant chandelier hung in the middle, directly over the pool.

“Does your mother think we’re already married and this is the reception?” Josh asked.

“No, she wouldn’t miss the opportunity to torture me before the wedding.”

“What the . . .” He walked down the steps to the pool deck, checking out one of the bistro tables.

Megan followed in horror. Like the other tables, this one was decorated with a single blooming rose in a crystal vase, beneath which a few petals were artfully scattered on the white tablecloth. It was the domed glass covering the flower that had caught his attention.

“Is this from Beauty and the Beast?” Josh asked, turning back to gape at her.

She shook her head in dismay. “She said it was a princess theme.”

“That must make me the Beast.”

She released a short laugh. “If she originally planned it that way, I can assure you that she’s turned the tables. She loves you. I’m the Beast.”

He set the tray of candles on the table. “Oh, God. Is that bowl of red apples on the food table a Snow White reference? And the brass lamp must be a nod to Aladdin.”

Megan shook her head, speechless.

“Seriously, Megan. What the hell?”

She stared up at him in dismay. “I don’t know. I think I’m about twenty years too old for this party. And I don’t even like Disney movies. She knows that.”

“And I think I just lost my man card.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” her mother asked, coming out the back door, tsking when she saw the tray of candles on one of the tables.

“It’s something else, all right,” Megan answered, taking in the decorations. A clear high heel sat atop the bar at the end of the pool, keeping company with the liquor bottles.

Her mother set an ornate picture frame containing words instead of a photo on the organza-strewn table. Megan moved closer to see it read Megan and Josh, June 14.

“I thought Josh told you that he preferred to use Jay on everything.”

Her mother gave her a blank look. “Did he? I figured he meant the invitations. Besides, if people are going to call him Josh, it will be less confusing if the placard says Josh.”

Her father emerged from the door next, a frame in his hand. Megan gasped when she realized what it was: a photo of her and Josh in her parents’ kitchen.

“How did you get that?”

“The photos you sent me of you and Josh were just atrocious—all blurry and out of focus. And besides, Josh’s hair is longer now and he’s much cuter in person,” her mother said. “So after Josh kissed you in the kitchen, your father took your picture with his phone so we could use it tonight.”

“That’s creepy,” Megan muttered.

Her mother offered her a tight smile. “No. It was efficient. And while it’s not the professional portrait I wanted . . . which I suggested to you many, many times—”

“I told you that Jay couldn’t get away from work.”

“—this will have to do in a pinch.”

“Why do we need one at all?” Megan asked in dismay. “We’re both here. Our presence should be enough.” Although she hoped Josh wouldn’t be here for long so she could be done with this disaster of a weekend.

She looked over her shoulder at him and mouthed sorry, although she wasn’t entirely sure why. He gave her a sympathetic smile before she turned back to face her mother, and she was surprised by how comforting the gesture was. She couldn’t help thinking what Jay would have done in this situation. No doubt he would have found a reason to blame it on her. He certainly wouldn’t have done a thing to comfort her.

Her mother’s brow furrowed, but not by much, making Megan wonder if she’d had Botox injections recently. “Barbara Decker’s daughter’s engagement party was gorgeous. You’re not going to have anything less.”

“Are you saying this is our engagement party? We’re getting married in three days!”

“Barbara Decker gave her daughter an engagement party that was the talk of the country club for months.” Her mouth turned down. “I won’t be outdone by that social wannabe.”

“So you did all of this?” Megan’s voice rose as she gestured to the tent over their heads. “How much did it even cost?”

“Too much,” her father grumbled.

“Bart!” her mother reprimanded. “Enough of that. You have one daughter, and she will have the most beautiful wedding in all of Jackson County.”

“Nicole,” her father chided. “The wedding is going to be in Johnson County. And this isn’t even the wedding.”

“Details!” Her mother looked around, frantic and frustrated. “I wanted to hire real waitstaff, instead of taking a chance on these kids—” she waved at a teenage girl wearing a black skirt and blouse who was setting a plate of tiny cakes on the food table, “—but your father refused. And we haven’t had ample time to prepare after your foolish antics at the airport, Megan Nicole.”

Shoot me now, Megan thought.

Her brother came out the back door and helped her grandmother out onto the deck. Her grandmother had changed into a flamboyant green and blue dress, paired with a headband of giant feathers. It made her hair look snow white.

“The guests are about to arrive and the candles aren’t lit yet,” her mother called over her shoulder as she moved toward the French doors. “Quit dillydallying, dear.” She stopped and looked Gram up and down before shaking her head. “I’m not even . . .” Her voice trailed off as she entered the house.

Megan smiled to herself at her grandmother’s choice of attire—probably partially chosen to irritate Nicole. Megan grabbed two candles off the tray, and Josh leaned close to her ear. “Where are we supposed to set these things up anyway? The small tables are covered with the Disney props.”

“I don’t care, just set them off to the side,” she grumbled, her smile fading. This was going to be a total disaster.

“How about you set them out and I’ll light them?”

“Sounds good.”

Megan set one on a table decorated with a spool of thread and a dollhouse spinning wheel. Her grandmother hobbled past them and over to the bar. “Those are supposed to go in the pool.”

“What?” For a moment, Megan was sure her gram had finally turned a corner and gone completely senile.

“The pool.” She waved her hands toward it in a shooing motion. “Your mother looked high and low for those fancy-pants bowls. She wants them in the water.”

Megan picked one up and checked it over. She suspected Gram was right. It didn’t make sense to add anything to the tables, and floating candles were certainly over-the-top enough to fit her mother’s theme. The question was how to do this gracefully. Then again, screw being graceful.

After kicking off her shoes, Megan sat on the side of the pool, submerging her feet in the water. Josh followed and set the tray on the concrete. “Hand me the candles we set out on the tables,” Megan prompted. “I’ll light them and put the bowls in the water.”

“Okay . . .” He sounded unsure, but he obeyed readily enough.

Satisfied, Gram continued on her way to the bar. “I’m thirsty. Fix me a drink, Kevin. Do you still make a mean sex on the beach?”

Kevin laughed and headed around the back of the bar, grabbing four glasses as he went. “I haven’t made one of those since I was in high school, Gram. When you hired me to bartend for those parties you and Gramps threw.”

“Until your mother found out you weren’t really helping us with home repairs,” she chortled.

“She had a royal fit.” He shook his head with an ornery grin. “It was awesome.”

“I got in trouble for that, too,” Megan added, calling over her shoulder. “Mom was certain I knew, so she was pissed I hadn’t told her.”

Gram frowned, shaking her head. “Your mother and I don’t always see eye to eye.”

Kevin hoisted a liquor bottle in salute. “And thank God for that.”

Josh helped Megan with several more floating centerpieces before he glanced up from putting a candle in one of the bowls, a perplexed look on his face. “Wait. If Gram is your mother’s mother, why doesn’t she have a Southern accent?”

Megan chuckled. “That is one of the reasons Mom keeps Gram under wraps, which is harder to do now that Gram lives with them. Mom tells everyone she’s from Atlanta, but she only lived there for her last two years of high school when Gramps worked for Coca-Cola. She’s originally from Overland Park, Kansas.”

Josh still looked confused. “So she developed a Southern accent in a very short period of time and kept it?”

“More like she fakes it,” Gram snorted, taking her drink from Kevin.

“Why?” Josh asked.

Kevin walked toward them, a glass in each hand. “To make herself seem even more special than everyone else, of course. The reason for everything she does. She’d rather be seen as a genteel Southern lady with class and sophistication than a woman with Midwest roots.” He handed one of the glasses to Josh, a hard look in his eyes. “I suggest you drink this. You’re gonna need it.” When he leaned down and handed Megan the other drink, he searched her face. “It’s like you haven’t told Josh a thing about our mother, Megan. I find that surprising given how much you love your Mom stories.”

He’d always been able to see through her bullshit, and she could tell he suspected something was up. Too bad he’d never guess what was really going on. She averted her gaze as she took the glass and instantly downed half of it, then struggled not to cough as it burned down her throat. “Good God, Kevin. Is that ninety-proof alcohol?”

“Long Island iced tea. I figured you needed fortitude.”

Josh gave her a concerned glance. “I’m not sure you should be drinking at all after what happened earlier.”

“Isn’t that sweet of you, looking out for Megan like that.” Kevin’s tone was off as he turned his attention to Josh. “Has she done anything like this before?”

Josh stood and met his gaze. “No, and this afternoon was inadvertent. She had no idea she couldn’t drink with Dramamine.”

Kevin cocked an eyebrow. “And you didn’t think to stop her?” His tone was unmistakably confrontational.

“He had no idea I took it.” Megan downed the rest of her drink. She had a feeling things were about to get ugly before the guests even showed up.

“He wasn’t with you?”

Josh shook his head and stood. “What exactly are you accusing me of? Trying to overdose your sister? That doesn’t seem very smart, three days before our wedding.”

Kevin took a step closer with a defiant glare. “Is there a right time to overdose your significant other, Josh?”

Megan jumped to standing, her feet leaving little wet splashes on the concrete, and placed her hand on Kevin’s chest, pushing him back. “Back off, Kevin. Josh would never hurt me. Otherwise, why would he suggest I shouldn’t drink now?”

Kevin’s eyes narrowed as his gaze turned again to Josh. “I don’t trust you. Something’s up, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

“Kevin! Enough!” Megan barked out in panic. If he was this pissed without knowing the whole story, what would he do if he found out? The sooner she ended this charade and broke up with Josh, the better. “Josh hasn’t done anything to make you distrust him.”

“I haven’t liked him since you started dating, Megan. The man’s an ass. Look, maybe I’ve kept quiet about this for too long, but I can’t let you marry him without saying my piece.”

“You only just met him, Kevin!”

“Exactly my point.” His voice was low and menacing. “Why?”

Megan opened her mouth and hesitated. “He’s been busy. Working.”

“Too busy to meet your family?”

She released a heavy breath, brushing the hair off her forehead as she glanced at her grandmother, who stood to the side listening while she sipped her drink. “I didn’t want to come home, Kevin. Surely you of all people understand that.”

He was quiet for a long moment, but then he sighed and said, “She’s not the only person in your family, Megan.”

She put her hand on his arm to stop him from turning away. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Just don’t take this out on Josh.”

Kevin’s jaw tightened. “Sorry I accused you of trying to kill my sister.” He stared into Josh’s face, his eyes filled with a challenge. “I’m sure an uptight prick like you would be much tidier with how you carried it out.”

“Kevin!”

Josh tensed and took a step closer. The air between the two men was heavy with testosterone. Megan knew the slightest spark would set off this powder keg.

“Kevin, I thought you were going to get me a drink.”

Kevin continued to stare Josh down before picking up Megan’s glass off the patio and stomping back to the bar.

Megan let out a sigh of relief, sagging her shoulder into Josh’s chest. “Sorry about that.”

His arm curved around the small of her back, holding her in place. “Is your brother always that intense?”

She knew she should pull away. His physical affection was for public display, yet somehow she knew he genuinely wished to comfort her. “Only where I’m concerned.”

“He wouldn’t hurt you, would he?”

She laughed. “No. Definitely not. But he’d hunt down whoever did.” She looked up at him. “We need to make sure he never finds out who you really are.”

He nodded and looked over at Kevin, who was mixing another drink. “Seriously though, I’m not sure more alcohol is a good idea after—”

The back door opened, and Megan froze in terror when she saw the blond in the gray pencil skirt and white blouse.

She’d forgotten all about Blair. How could she have forgotten about Blair? Her best friend searched the yard, her face contorting in horror before she made a beeline for her.

Josh lowered his voice as his gaze moved to her friend. “Who’s that and why am I suddenly nervous?”

“That’s one of my two best friends. And we should both be scared.”

“I take it she knows?” he whispered.

“Everything up until I boarded the plane.”

“Shit.”

From the angry look on Blair’s face, Megan couldn’t help agreeing with him.

Chapter Seven

Josh wasn’t frightened by much, but the woman who was making her way toward them looked like she wanted to rip someone’s head off. Possibly his. She didn’t look dressed for a cocktail party. She wore a business skirt paired with a white shirt and jacket. The glare that her icy blue eyes shot at him made him seriously fear she might take one of her black stiletto heels and jab his eyes out. Josh inched closer to Megan.

“Blair,” Megan said. “What are you doing here?”

“We had plans tonight,” Blair said, her voice a monotone.

“Yeah. About that . . . I forgot to call you.”

“I’ll say,” she said, stopping in front of them. She eyed Josh up and down. “Apparently you have a lot to tell me.” Her voice lowered so that Kevin and Megan’s grandmother couldn’t hear. “Like how you picked up a new fiancé on a four-hour flight.” Blair’s eyes narrowed. “Were you the one who drugged her?”

“No!” Megan protested loud enough that her brother and grandmother looked over at them.

Had they heard anything incriminating?

Megan grabbed Blair’s arm and dragged her over to the food table, farther away from the others. Though she allowed herself to be dragged backward, Blair quirked her brow at Josh. “Oh, you better get your ass over here and join us, lover boy.”

Josh knew he was going to have to dig himself out of this one. Part of him considered walking away from it all, throwing in the towel, but he wasn’t ready to do that. After seeing this lavish display of wealth, he was certain that Megan’s father—who genuinely seemed like a nice guy—had plenty of incentive to take Josh’s plans and make a fortune out of them, snagging away their investor to boot. Josh wasn’t sure there was enough money in the world to keep Nicole Vandemeer happy. He had to stay longer to see what he could uncover. He suspected some of Bart Vandemeer’s business associates might be at the party, and Josh hoped to sniff out information from them in the guise of polite conversation. Tonight could help him direct his investigation. He may have fallen into this role by chance, but it was showing more potential than he could have imagined at the airport earlier.

He cast a glance at the feisty brunette next to him. And then there was Megan herself . . .

No, Josh wasn’t going anywhere yet, bitchy best friend be damned.

Megan looked over her shoulder, then back at her friend. “Who told you I was drugged? And how did you find out about Josh?”

“Kevin. He wanted to know why your fiancé Josh let you get shit-faced on an afternoon flight.”

Megan’s back stiffened underneath Josh’s arm. He’d unconsciously returned his arm to the small of her back. He considered dropping it but decided it added to the illusion of a couple in love. Even so, he had to admit that wasn’t the only reason he kept it there. It felt good.

The angry woman in front of him didn’t seem appeased by the gesture; if anything, she looked angrier when her steely gaze lowered to his arm.

“What did you tell him?” Megan asked, her jaw clenched.

“What did I tell him? Why don’t we talk about what you haven’t told me?” Blair hissed. Josh wasn’t sure Blair’s eyes could squint any tighter as she shot daggers of hate at him. “What the hell is going on here?” she asked, adding emphasis to each word.

Megan rolled her eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“It can’t be that long,” Blair countered. “Eight hours ago you were single. What great love story could have unfurled in that time frame?”

“It was all a misunderstanding,” Megan said.

“Oh, really?” Blair kept her gaze on Josh. “A misunderstanding? Are you homeless?”

“What?”

“Are you mentally ill? A gigolo? A terrorist?”

“Blair, stop.” Megan put her hand on her friend’s arm. “And I already accused him of being a terrorist.”

“And you believed him when he said no?”

“Actually,” she mused, casting an ornery grin at him, “I don’t think he answered me.”

“Tricky bastard, aren’t you?”

Josh figured anything he said at this point would be used against him, so he chose to plead the fifth.

“Blair, it’s not like that. You don’t even know the story.”

“Then why don’t you tell it to me, Megan,” Blair said in a snippy tone that rubbed Josh the wrong way. Megan had already put up with a mountain of crap from her mother, princess-themed or not, and she didn’t need more from her supposed best friend.

“Instead of attacking her,” Josh countered in a deadly calm voice, “why don’t you let her actually explain.”

Blair gave him a dirty look, but she pressed her lips together and waited.

Glancing between Josh and her friend with wide eyes, Megan began. “I had a couple of drinks on the plane like you suggested, but I’d taken some Dramamine before boarding.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Obviously I wasn’t,” Megan said, looking embarrassed. “And I passed out on the plane. The flight attendant was going to have me turned over to security, but Josh—who was sitting by me and knew about the reason for my trip—helped me off the plane. But I couldn’t walk, and he ended up carrying me. People thought he might be abducting me, so he told them he was my fiancé.”

“Did he, now?”

Josh leaned in closer. “I knew her family was meeting her. All I wanted to do was make sure she made it to her mother okay, but her mom heard me say I was her fiancé, and they presumed I was Jay.”

“Oh!” Blair cooed in mock surprise. “You know his name. And you didn’t think to correct them?”

Josh’s brow furrowed in irritation. “I tried to explain, but I’m sure you’ve met Megan’s mother.”

Blair crossed her arms. “So you’re telling me that you didn’t have a single opportunity to come out and say, ‘Hey! There’s been a colossal misunderstanding. I’m not Jay Connors.’”

Megan’s eyes flew open. “Shh! Blair! Someone’s going to hear you.”

Blair shook her head, staring at her friend in disbelief. “This is insane, Megan. I expect something like this from Libby, not you.”

Josh’s hand curled tighter on Megan’s hip, and he pulled her closer. How much shit did she have to endure? First her mother, then this bitch who called herself Megan’s best friend . . . at least her psycho brother was actually trying to look out for her. Megan’s fiancé—who was sounding more and more like a first-class bastard—had cheated on her. Josh already knew that Jay Connors didn’t deserve her, but the pain and humiliation of his betrayal still had to sting. Megan deserved sympathy and comfort from Blair, who obviously knew the truth, not full-blown hostility. Nevertheless, he swallowed his words of defense, even if it left a bitter taste on his tongue. He couldn’t afford to get caught up in this drama.

Hurt filled Megan’s eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Libby is the impulsive one. Not you. You’re usually sensible and logical.”

Megan shook her head. “No, Blair. Sensible and logical is you.”

“So what does that make you?”

For a moment, he didn’t think Megan was going to say something, but she finally spoke. “After twenty-five years, you really have to ask me that? Maybe you don’t know me so well after all.”

Blair gave her an exasperated look. “Now is not the time for Teen Glamour personality tests.”

“No,” Megan said quietly. “It’s not.”

“So, what? You’re going to marry this guy to avoid a confrontation with your mom?”

“No! Of course not. He’s going to break up with me. He’s helping me.”

Blair shot him a look of disgust. “And of course he’s doing it out of the kindness of his heart.”

“You know,” Josh said, no longer able to keep quiet, “I seem to be the only person around here who’s actually trying to help her instead of tearing her down.”

Megan gasped and stared up at him, her watery eyes full of gratitude. He squeezed her side to give her reassurance.

Blair looked like she wanted to strangle him.

“Megan knows my reasons for helping her. It’s no one’s business but our own. Not even yours.”

Blair pointed her finger at his chest. “I don’t trust you.”

Josh lost count of how many times he’d heard that today, a sharp contradiction to everything he’d been told for the past twenty-nine years. Josh was the steady, reliable, trustworthy McMillan boy. The one everyone counted on to be the voice of reason. He was used to everyone trusting him, so it rubbed his pride a bit raw to be treated like a cad. “I can’t control that one way or the other.”

Blair turned back to Megan. “Do you even know his name?”

“Josh.”

“I know that already. Josh what?”

Megan shot her a leery glance, then shifted her gaze to Josh. Only moments ago, she’d told him that Kevin needed to know as little about him as possible. It was obvious that Blair and Kevin were in communication. If she told Blair, she might ultimately share her information with Megan’s brother. But Josh didn’t want to strip her of any defense she could use with her friend. He nodded.

“Josh McMillan.”

Blair stepped closer to him, until her face was mere inches from his. “Well, Josh McMillan, you’ve messed with the wrong person. I’m a divorce attorney, and I specialize in digging up shit on people. By tomorrow night I’ll know everything there is to know about you, including what blood type you are and whether you’ve been circumcised.” Blair turned to Megan and pointed her finger. “And you better not find out the answer to that question first.”

Megan’s mouth dropped open in horror and . . . was that guilt he saw in her eyes?

Message delivered, Blair turned and walked to the bar, calling over her shoulder, “Libby will be here any minute.”

Megan’s face brightened.

“I take it Libby is your other best friend?” Josh asked.

She nodded, still watching Blair. Josh hoped Libby was warmer to their arrangement, because he could tell Blair had instilled some second thoughts in his pseudo-fiancée. It didn’t help matters that he hadn’t gotten her to agree to maintaining the ruse through the evening. He worried Blair would convince her to break it off immediately.

“Megan.” He took her hand and looked into her deep brown eyes. “Don’t listen to Blair. I’m not here to hurt you.” He soothed his screaming conscience by telling himself that Megan had her own life in Seattle, and that her father’s business didn’t affect her. Even if he didn’t quite believe it himself. Maybe the perpetrator was one of Bart’s partners and he’d be doing her father a favor. If Bart Vandemeer were innocent, surely he wouldn’t want to work with a partner who was a thief and a liar.

She searched his face for something—reassurance that she could trust him? But as he held her gaze, another thought intruded—the memory of kissing her upstairs as her brother approached. His intention had been innocent enough, but the feel of her in his arms . . .

Despite the fact that he held her soft, warm hand in his, he knew he needed to keep his hands off her as much as possible, which would be difficult since they were attending what constituted their engagement party. If he were smart, he’d start sowing the seeds of doubt among her family members—hell, her brother was already there—but it might take him a couple of days to get the information he needed. He couldn’t risk being a huge ass and giving her justification in front of her family to break up with him on the spot. In fact, if he were smart, he’d charm them by playing the dutiful boyfriend, ensuring that he could stick around as long as he needed to accomplish his task. The key to making this work for Megan was for her to come out smelling like a rose when the dust settled. Which meant as long as he was the perfect boyfriend, she’d have no justification for ending it. But no doubt about it—he’d have to tread lightly.

He dropped her hand. “We probably better get the rest of the candles in the water, or your mother is going to have a fit.”

She started to get back down onto the pool deck, but he stopped her. “The guests are starting to arrive.” He motioned to the deck. Several middle-aged couples had appeared during their chat with Blair. “We can’t have the bride-to-be sitting at the side of the pool and possibly getting her dress wet.” He offered her a soft smile. “Why don’t you hand them to me, and I’ll light them and set them in the water?”

She gave him a strange look, then her smile turned shy, and she dipped her head to look at the candles. “Okay.”

They worked silently for nearly half a minute before she said, “Thanks for helping me.”

He shrugged. “What else am I going to do? Part of the job is keeping your mother happy with you, right?” He looked up at her. “This will make her happy.”

“Not just this. This.” Her eyebrows arched with her emphasis. “Everything. I’m sorry Blair was so hateful to you. Thanks for standing up to her, too.”

“I never could stand a bully.”

She looked surprised. “Blair’s not a bully. She’s just worried about me.”

Josh grimaced and set the next candle in the pool. “She’s your friend, so I won’t butt in, but I think she could have handled it differently . . . with some compassion.”

“That’s just how she is. Blair’s more of a confrontational, nip-things-in-the-bud type of person. She’s never been sweet and nurturing.”

“Like you?” He studied her face, which turned a soft pink as she watched him.

“How would you know that?”

He grinned, setting the last candle in the pool before standing in front of her. “Call it a hunch.”

“Megan!” a woman shouted in a happy voice.

They both turned to see a dark-haired woman running across the deck, her face lit up with excitement. She wore a gauzy orange and pink skirt and white tank topped with a gauzy button-down shirt, which hung open.

“Libby!” Megan thrust the empty tray at Josh and ran to her friend, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” Libby shouted, waving and attracting the attention of Kevin and Megan’s grandmother. Blair didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her other supposed best friend, further cementing the title Josh had already assigned to her: bitch.

Libby pulled out of Megan’s hold and eyed Josh up and down with an appreciative look on her face. Josh already got a better vibe from her, and not just because she’d checked him out and found him worthy. It seemed reasonable to expect she’d be more open to and supportive of his arrangement with Megan.

But Megan had stiffened at Libby’s announcement, an alarmed look on her face, as if it hadn’t occurred to her that Libby would need to be let in on the charade. “Of course I’m here, Libby,” she said loudly. “I’m getting married in three days.”

Confusion flickered across Libby’s face.

Megan glanced back at Josh, as if issuing an SOS, and he strolled over to the two women. “Hi, Libby. I’m Josh,” he said, loud enough for her family to hear. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Libby glanced between the two of them with a slightly open mouth. She lowered her voice when she spoke next. “I thought you broke up with Jay back in April.”

Megan leaned closer, whispering. “I did.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And you’re marrying him instead?”

“It’s a long story. But this is Josh, and my parents think he’s Jay.”

Libby blinked. “Why do they think he’s Jay if you’re calling him Josh?”

“Megan!” Her mother waved at her, motioning for her to join the small group of people she was talking to on the deck.

Megan placed a hand on her friend’s upper arm. “It’s a long story, Libby. I’ll tell you later, but right now I have to greet my mother’s snooty friends. Please, please, please just play along.”

She moved toward the couples trickling out the back door, leaving Josh with her still-confused friend. The number of guests had increased to about twenty. Bart was talking to three other men, and Josh considered joining them, but he needed to figure out a way to encourage Megan to keep him around longer. If not, he might find himself kicked out before he’d even started investigating. He had a hunch Libby would make a perfect ally.

“Why don’t we get you a drink?” he asked, motioning to the bar, where Megan’s brother had taken up residence. Apparently all his experience from their grandparents’ parties was being put to use for the evening.

Half-empty glass in hand, Josh led the way.

Kevin gave him a measured glare before flashing a smile at Libby. “What can I get for my favorite hippie?”

Libby rolled her eyes, but her grin neutralized the action. “I’ll take a glass of white wine. And how many times do I have to tell you I’m not a hippie? That generalization would apply more to your sister than to me.”

Kevin grabbed a bottle of wine and poured a glass. “She works for an environmental nonprofit, and that’s the extent of it. You dye your own clothes, grow your own food, and make art out of recycled glass. Hippie.”

Libby laughed, a happy sound that helped ease some of Josh’s tension over being left alone with Megan’s hostile family and friends. At least not all of them were hostile.

“Please. I dyed some clothes in high school for an art project, and I have tomato plants in pots on the balcony of my apartment. That hardly qualifies me for a commune.”

Kevin handed Libby her glass. “But you do make art out of recycled glass. Megan told me about your exhibit. Belated congrats.”

“Thanks.”

Though she’d been standing to the side of the bar, listening in on their conversation, Blair finally spoke up, her gaze locked on Josh. “Maybe Megan’s turned vegan or something,” she said with a tight smile. “Has she, Josh?”

Kevin turned to look at him.

He froze. Damn her. “No. She definitely hasn’t.” He turned his attention to Kevin. “Have you got any beers back there?”

“Preference?”

“Anything alcoholic.”

Kevin opened a cooler and pulled out a bottle, popping off the top before handing it to Josh.

“Spending time with your fiancée’s family got you drinking?” Blair asked in a snotty tone.

“No, it’s not her family.” He took a big swig.

Libby burst out laughing. “Don’t mind Blair. I don’t think she’s ever approved of any of our boyfriends.” Swooping in to his rescue, she hooked her arm through his and dragged him away from the bar, leading to the other side of the pool, which was blessedly absent of guests.

Josh scanned the deck, which was now dotted with more than three dozen people. He spotted Megan in the center of a small group. He hadn’t known her long, but he could tell the smile on her face was forced.

Libby looked to see what had his attention, then shot him a grin. “How long have you known Megan?”

“About eight hours.”

Libby choked on her wine and began to cough. “I’m sorry. Did you say eight hours?”

Which was his cue to launch into an abbreviated version of the turn of events.

“So you’re helping her out of the kindness of your heart?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Of course. I have a few spare days, so I figured why not?”

She shook her head. “You’re lying.”

He’d been accused of as much by Blair and Megan, but the way Libby said it came across differently. His breath caught. What did she know?

He took a drink of his beer, seeking out Megan in the crowd. She was caught between two women who were talking nonstop. She held her hand to her face, and he couldn’t keep from smiling when he realized she was trying to hide a yawn.

Focus, McMillan. Megan’s best friend had just accused him of lying, and he was acting like a middle-school boy with a crush. “Why do you say that?”

“The way you’re looking at her right now. Like you’ve been fed salad for six months and Megan’s a medium-rare steak.”

He turned to her, surprised by the anger that smoldered in his gut. “What are you accusing me of? Do you think I’m out to hurt her?”

“No,” she said, taking another sip of her wine and looking over at Megan. “Quite the opposite. I think you really like her.”

“So I’m pretending to be her fiancé to get her into bed?” he asked, sounding indignant, though the thought of her in bed with him . . .

Well, now that it was in his head, it would be hard to get it out. Down, boy. Wondering what Megan Vandemeer looked like sans clothes wouldn’t help his case.

“No, I think you’re helping her out of a difficult situation because there’s a spark between you two and you want the chance to get to know her better.”

“By pretending to be her fiancé?”

She shrugged, still grinning at him. “Hey, stranger things have happened.”

“So you approve?”

“Wholeheartedly. The guy she was supposed to marry is a cutthroat bastard. Only, Megan wore blinders the entire time and refused to see it until she saw more than she ever wanted to when she found him screwing his secretary on his desk.”

Josh cringed at the mental image, but it bothered him even more to think about what it must have done to Megan. “And how do you know I’m not a cutthroat bastard, too?”

She grabbed the beer out of his hand and set it on a nearby table along with her wine. Then she picked up his right hand and spread out his palm. Her index finger traced the lines. “Your love line. It runs deep and long.” She looked up into his face. “Your love is very strong and loyal. You will probably only truly love one woman, and you will fall head over heels within a day of meeting her.”

He chuckled. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

A mischievous glint filled her hazel eyes. “That’s what makes it all the better. You’re not that kind of man.” She traced more lines, smoothing out the pad of his hand with her thumb. “No, you’re usually methodical. You think everything through and have a detailed plan. You’re not prone to that sort of impulsiveness.”

Josh told himself that she was guessing. But how had she managed to describe him so perfectly? Besides, she’d formed her opinion before she even looked at his hand.

“There’s a branch in your life line that suggests you will veer off your usual path. That you take a risk and find love. It totally changes the course of your life.” She looked up at him with a quizzical expression. “Are you on a journey right now, Josh McMillan?”

He tried not to visibly react. “That sounds like a philosophical question. Aren’t we all on a journey?”

“Am I interrupting something?”

The surprise made Josh jump, and he swiveled to find Megan standing next to him. He knew it looked bad. Libby was caressing his hand while they looked into each other’s eyes. Libby was a beautiful woman. Her almost-black hair, olive complexion, and dancing hazel eyes gave her an exotic look. But while Josh noticed her beauty, he wasn’t drawn to it.

Libby dropped her hold on him. “I was just reading Josh’s palm,” she said in a careless tone.

Based on Libby’s reaction, he was sure she hadn’t heard the undertone of jealousy in Megan’s voice. But he had . . . and as weird as this whole thing was, he liked that she was jealous. The smile that spread across his face as he turned to look at her was an unstoppable force.

“You still do that?” Megan asked, dragging her eyes from Josh’s face.

“Of course. It’s fantastically accurate,” Libby murmured in a smug tone. “Just don’t let Knickers know I was doing it. She threatened to hold an exorcism if she found out I was reading palms at her house again.”

Josh glanced at her in surprise. “Knickers?”

“Our nickname for Megan’s mom.” Libby shrugged. “It’s a play on her name—Nicole—because she always has her knickers in a wad.”

His smile turned wry. “I can see how she earned it.”

Megan grinned. “Your secret is safe with me. As long as you tell me what you read in Josh’s palm.”

Josh shook his head. “Nope. You first. What does Megan’s say?”

“That she’ll find the love of her life when she least expects it.” Libby winked at Megan. “And that she’ll be married by the time she turns thirty.”

“How do you know that?” he asked. “You didn’t even look.”

“I’ve read it before,” Libby said with a shrug.

“So how long do you have before you turn thirty?” Josh asked.

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to ask a lady her age?” Megan lifted her eyebrows playfully. A rush of relief hit Josh square in the solar plexus; he was glad she wasn’t holding a grudge over some imagined connection between him and her friend.

“Two months,” Libby volunteered.

Megan laughed. “My palm doesn’t say I’ll be married by the time I’m thirty. That fortune teller did.”

Blair joined their group, looking disgusted. “Not the fortune teller again.”

Libby sighed, making it apparent that this was a worn-out argument. “You can’t deny it happened.”

“You’re correct. I don’t deny that we went to SantaCaliGon Days and waited in line for an hour in the oppressive summer heat.”

“Now who’s overexaggerating?” Megan asked. “It was Labor Day weekend, we waited ten minutes tops, and it wasn’t that hot.”

“We still waited in line for nothing.”

“Not true.” Libby turned up her chin. “She told our fortune, just not as we expected.”

Josh couldn’t stop himself from asking, “She told Megan she’d be married by the time she was thirty?”

Megan shook her head. “She said all three of us would be married by the time we were thirty.”

Blair put a hand on her hip. “Only after she heard the three of us talking in line. Remember? We were talking about that stupid pact we made as kids. You know, how we said we’d all get married before we turned thirty and became spinsters.”

“That’s not all,” Libby added, her face serious. “She said our weddings would be disasters, and we would all marry someone other than we’d intended. And a pact is not to be taken lightly.”

Blair groaned. “You don’t really believe that nonsense, do you?”

“Of course she doesn’t,” Megan said.

“I don’t know,” Libby murmured, picking up her wine glass. “So far she’s right. You and Blair are engaged.”

“I’m not getting married on Saturday, Libby,” Megan whispered, a panicked expression crossing her face as soon as she’d uttered the words.

Libby hugged her arm. “It’s okay. Josh told me what’s going on.” She winked at Megan. “You never know what might happen between now and then.”

Blair looked disgusted again. “My wedding is in two months, and everything is going perfectly. Sorry to disappoint your delusion, Libby.”

Libby gave her a smug grin. “We’ll see.” She took another sip of her wine, as if closing a door on the discussion.

Megan looked between her friends for a moment before giving herself an involuntary shake. “So you two are the only ones who know about Josh. I need you to keep this to yourselves until Josh breaks up with me later tonight.”

Josh jerked to attention. This was exactly what he was afraid of. And having Blair standing next to them would make talking her out of it even more difficult.

“What?” Libby asked in dismay. “Already?”

Megan’s face hardened with determination. “It has to be done, Libby. And the sooner, the better. Josh has a life to get back to.”

“Megan!” her mother called from the deck just then, waving her arm.

Megan heaved out a loud breath. “Duty calls. Again. Come on, Josh. It’s time to introduce you to my parents’ friends. I apologize in advance.” She reached for his hand, but Libby grabbed him first.

“I need one more minute with Josh.” Libby pulled him aside as Megan shrugged and hurried toward her mother. Libby stared Blair down. “This doesn’t concern you. Feel free to go back to flirting with Kevin.”

Blair’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “I do not flirt. And especially not with Kevin.”

Libby gave her a shrug of indifference. “It’s no secret you harbored a crush on him all through high school.”

“That was ten years ago. We’re friends now.” She glanced back and forth between Libby and Josh, then narrowed her gaze on Libby and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “Do not encourage this situation, Libby!”

Libby made a shooing motion. “Bye, Blair.”

They watched her stomp off after Megan, intercepting her before she could reach her mother. Based on her departing glare, Josh was sure Blair hated him even more now. He hoped she didn’t convince Megan to do anything rash.

Libby waited until Blair was out of earshot, then grabbed his bicep and leaned toward him.

“Do you want to break up with Megan tonight?” She gave him a worried gaze.

Libby thought he wanted to be here for other reasons . . . reasons she approved of. He’d be a fool not to take advantage of that, especially since Blair was so determined to get rid of him and Megan was set on breaking up tonight. “No.”

“Then don’t. Keep gazing at her like she’s the last woman alive and don’t do it. I’ll help you out as much as I can.”

Josh felt bad using Libby to help him, but he needed all the advantages he could get.

And he ignored the part of him that told him Libby was actually right about him . . . about how he liked Megan more than he wanted to admit.

Chapter Eight

Josh was walking back over to her, looking more relieved than he had before going off with Libby. What had her friend said?

Megan’s mother was getting visibly irritated that Megan still hadn’t joined her, but Blair had a death grip on her wrist. “I’m looking out for your best interest,” Blair said, continuing with her mission to try and talk reason into her. “What’s so wrong with that?”

Megan’s back stiffened. “I love you like a sister, Blair, but this is my decision. If you can’t accept it, feel free to leave.”

“It’s a stupid decision, Megan.”

Megan winced but held her ground. “But it’s mine, nevertheless. It’s not like I’m marrying the guy. He’s going to break up with me.”

Josh cleared his throat as he stopped next to Megan, close enough to have heard her last words. “What do you want, Blair? What outcome at this moment would make you happy? Do you want me to tell Megan’s parents that we’ve been lying to them? How will that make Megan look? She’d be worse off than she was before they mistook me for Jay.”

Blair pursed her lips. “You’re the reason she’s in this situation.”

“I’ve never denied it. I’m just trying to get her out of it the best way I know how.”

“If you hurt her . . .”

“Yeah, I know,” Josh said dryly. “You’ll find out about my wicked past to throw it in my face. But good luck with that. I’m a pretty boring guy, so you’ll have a tough time finding anything shiny enough to catch your interest.”

Watching him now, Megan had a hard time believing he was boring, though she was fairly certain he didn’t harbor a past as a hardened criminal or as a member of a motorcycle gang. Blair would probably have to do a lot of digging to discover anything scandalous about Josh McMillan. But then, Megan had never harbored a hidden fantasy about dating a bad boy, and Josh’s chivalry, good looks, and charming personality—everything about him—screamed the opposite of bad boy. Megan was more attracted to him than was safe to acknowledge. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that their relationship had almost reached its expiration date. She couldn’t get attached to him.

And that filled her with more disappointment than she had a right to feel.

Blair pointed a finger at him. “If I find anything, I’ll whip so many lawsuits around you that you’ll regret the day you boarded that plane.”

Josh shrugged, looking unimpressed. “Suit yourself.”

Libby, who had trailed her way to them, too, laughed from behind him. “He made a pun and he’s standing up to you, Blair. Now I really like him.”

Josh gave her a conspiratorial grin before turning back to Megan. “Your mother doesn’t look happy. Maybe we should go play the engaged couple.”

“Yeah.”

He put an arm around her back and smiled down at her, looking very much like the attentive boyfriend. “Then let’s go make your mother happy.”

“That’s an oxymoron,” Blair said.

Josh grabbed Megan’s hand and led her away from Blair, leaning into her ear as they made their way over to her mother and her friends on the deck. “Has Blair always been so . . .”

“Grumpy?”

“I had another word.”

Megan laughed. “She hasn’t always been this way. She used to be happier and more carefree, but she’s gotten much more serious and . . .”

“Dictatorial?”

Megan released a heavy sigh as they climbed the steps. “Honestly, she means well. She changed after what happened with her father. She found out in college that he’d been cheating on her mother for years, and she took it personally. Becoming a lawyer had been her dream since grade school, but she’d planned on going into corporate law until her father filed for divorce and left her mother with hardly anything . . . then died five years later. Now Blair’s a divorce attorney who specializes in representing women who’ve been screwed over in their marriages. She makes sure they don’t get screwed over in their divorces, too.”

He considered her words for a moment before conceding, “It’s an admirable position.”

“She started out with the best of intentions, but it’s made her jaded. She’s changed. And not for the better.”

Seeing their approach, Megan’s mother waved them over to an older couple. “Megan! I want to introduce you and Josh to some dear old friends of ours from the country club.”

Megan decided her mother had to be referring to the couple’s age, since her parents had only joined the country club about five years ago.

“Showtime,” she mumbled to Josh.

He gave her hand a light squeeze of reassurance as they joined the group.

Megan had been worried that they could never pull it off, but she and Josh sailed through the evening. He was a great conversationalist, and her parents’ friends loved him. Megan had heard that the key to creating good conversation was to lavish attention on the other person, taking care not to talk too much about yourself. It turned out that Josh was a master at it, diverting almost all but the most mundane questions about himself. He showed particular interest in her father’s friends, and at first she worried he really was using her to sell his snake oil, but he didn’t make so much as a peep about a timeshare or a pyramid scheme. Instead, he asked how long they’d known her father, what Bart’s hobbies were, and whether they would recommend Bart’s financial planner. Josh smiled as he said he had to plan a future for his soon-to-be wife and their soon-enough children.

Josh smiled at her when he mentioned a future family, as though they shared an intimate secret. Her stomach fluttered, not at the prospect of having children—although she did want them someday—but at the way his gaze lingered on her face. As if he couldn’t wait to get her alone so they could practice making those future babies.

Then she reminded herself that they did share a secret. They were breaking up before the end of the night.

Her mother may not have gotten the professional waitstaff she wanted, but the handful of teens were doing a good job of carrying around trays of food that fit the princess theme. Sugar cookies shaped like pumpkins, genie lamps, mermaids, and . . . dwarves? were carried around on silver trays, along with other finger foods. The underage staff couldn’t take drink orders, but the crowd quickly learned the bar was at the opposite end of the pool.

After Josh and Megan had made the rounds twice and her mother seemed satisfied, Blair and Libby joined them at a bistro table. While Blair was quiet and distrustful, Libby more than made up for her bad mood, asking Josh questions about his family.

“My father died when I was sixteen. My brother was still in college, but he and my mother managed to hold my father’s firm together until he graduated and took over. Our business manager was a huge help.”

Megan reached over and covered Josh’s hand with her own. She couldn’t imagine what her teen years would have been like if she’d lost her father back then. He’d been her lifeline in high school, standing up for her whenever she failed to meet her mother’s expectations of femininity. Her father had always told her she was the most beautiful girl in the world and that her mother’s views had warped over time and shouldn’t be taken personally.

“There are things you don’t know about your mother, pumpkin,” he used to say. “She loves you. This is her way of showing it.”

Megan had always wished she’d find another way.

“Josh,” Libby leaned back in her chair and eyed her other best friend before returning her attention to Josh. “You and Blair have something in common. Her father died when she was in law school.”

Blair shot him a glare. “And did your father cheat on your mother and leave her nearly destitute in a divorce before dying?”

“No,” Josh said calmly. “He loved my mother very much. I hope to have a marriage like theirs one day.”

“Based on lies and deception?”

He was quiet for a moment, and his answer was subdued. “No.”

Libby gave her a frown. “Blair, not everyone is as cynical about love as you are.”

“I’m a realist, Libby. Love is a conscious decision.”

“You really think your relationship with Neil is love?” Libby questioned, turning around to interrogate her friend.

Libby was only putting a voice to what Megan had been silently thinking for months.

“Neil and I have a very compatible relationship based on trust and similar hobbies.”

“And it’s so romantic,” Libby singsonged.

“Romance doesn’t last. It’s all spiking hormones and lust.” Blair glared at her friend. “Perhaps one of your relationships would last longer than three weeks if you were looking for something other than romance.”

“I’d rather have a few weeks of passion and hot sex than a cold and emotionless relationship,” Libby shot back, but Megan saw a hint of hurt in her eyes.

Blair turned her attention to Josh. “And how are we supposed to believe anything you say? You could very well be making it all up—your mother, brother, your father, too.”

“Blair,” Megan warned.

An awkward silence settled on the group. Then Josh stood. “I know you girls would like to talk without me, so I’ll go make a call and leave you with some time to yourselves.”

“Who are you going to call?” Blair demanded.

Josh pulled his phone out of his pocket and brought up the contact before he locked his eyes onto hers. “My brother Noah. I haven’t talked to him since landing in Kansas City, so he must be worried.”

Blair snatched his phone. “Let’s see if you really have a brother.”

“Blair!” Megan shouted, reaching for it. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Protecting you.” Blair leaned out of her grasp as Josh stared at her, his eyes wide with shock. She pressed send and held the phone up to her ear. “Hello? Noah? What is your relation to Josh McMillan?” Horror washed over her face. “No! He’s fine! He hasn’t been in accident! I’m sorry! He just . . .”

“Blair!” Megan wrestled the phone from her friend and handed it to Josh. “God! I’m so sorry.”

Josh grimaced as he lifted the phone to his ear. “Noah? No. I’m fine,” he said, giving Megan an apologetic look. “It was someone’s idea of a bad joke.”

“Go!” she motioned to him. He walked to the opposite side of the pool, moving toward the back of the yard, where there were fewer people.

“What the hell, Blair?” Megan demanded after Josh left. “You probably scared his brother half to death.”

Blair shrugged. “He didn’t try to stop me once I had his phone.”

“Yeah, because he was stymied by the fact that a grown, supposedly professional woman would steal his phone,” Libby said.

To her credit, Blair looked embarrassed. “Maybe I was a little overzealous . . .”

“You think?” Megan asked.

“I think he’s cute.” Libby kept her eyes on Josh, an appreciative gleam in her eyes. “He’s got a nice ass.”

“Funny,” Megan deadpanned. “My gram said the same thing.”

“I’ve always liked Gram,” Libby said. “I think you should go for it.”

“There’s nothing to go for.”

“I thought you were breaking up tonight,” Blair reminded her.

“Yeah . . .” She’d been trying to put it off as long as possible, wanting to spend more time with him. But the reality of the situation was staring her in the face, and the thought of never seeing Josh McMillan again filled her with panic.

Libby lifted her drink to her lips and gave Megan a knowing look. “I say break up with him tomorrow. You can do other things tonight.”

Megan grimaced. “While sleeping around might be your style, Libby, it’s not mine.”

Libby shot her a haughty look. “For the record, you might as well both know I’m not sleeping around at the moment. I’ve been with Mitch for four months now.”

Blair and Megan stared at her in surprise.

“What? I’m not getting any younger. We’re all about to hit thirty this year, and now I’ll have a date to both of your weddings. You know, when you think about it, Megan’s wedding disaster isn’t that much of a surprise.”

“What does that mean?” Megan demanded.

Blair groaned, leaning back in her chair. “Not that fortune teller crap again. If I had known how seriously you’d take it, I never would have gone.”

Libby narrowed her eyes. “It happened, Blair. Whether you choose to believe her prediction or not.” She turned to Megan, who was now listening intently. “And we made a pact to get married. I told you—pacts are not to be taken lightly.”

“We made that pact at a city fair because we were bored after your brother barfed on a carnival ride,” Blair said. “If you remember, we also picked out our grooms. After rock-paper-scissors, you got Travis Ming. Which seems like an excellent way to pick your future husband, Libby. Especially in light of how Megan has picked her substitute groom.” She cocked her head. “What’s Travis up to these days, Libs? Your birthday is in five months. You better hurry up and track him down.”

“Be a hater all you want, Blair,” Libby retorted. “Megan’s wedding is proof.”

“You don’t seriously believe any of this, do you?” Blair asked. “You’re not even engaged, Libby.”

“Not yet, but I have five months,” Libby mused. “Besides, look at Megan’s wedding. While it’s a disaster, another—significantly more charming—man is already claiming to be her fiancé.”

“Hey!” Megan protested. “My wedding isn’t a disaster . . . and as far as Josh goes . . . it’s just not going to happen. I just met him. And under duress, I might add.”

Blair scowled. “Well, my wedding is going to go off without a hitch. My wedding planner has everything under control, and Neil wouldn’t think of cheating on me.” She cast a glance at Megan. “Sorry, Megs.”

Megan shrugged, trying to make her friends believe she was over Jay’s infidelity. She wasn’t sure how convincing it was. While part of her was glad to be rid of him, the embarrassment still clung to her like a cheap perfume.

Reaching over, Libby patted Megan’s hand. “Who knows? Maybe she’ll marry Josh on Saturday.”

Blair looked furious. “Megan is not getting married to anyone on Saturday, so let it go, Libby.”

“Jeez, Blair,” Libby said nonchalantly, sipping her drink. “You might want to consider some anger management classes.” She waggled her eyebrows at Megan. “Besides, who knows what will happen tonight with Mr. Hot-and-Sexy-in-a-Pair-of-Jeans once he’s out of them. Maybe he’ll be so good you’ll want to marry him.”

To her horror, Megan blushed.

“She’s not sleeping with him tonight,” Blair lectured Libby. “I’m sure Knickers gave him his own room. No one is allowed to have sex in the house of perfection.”

Libby giggled. “But Knickers got pregnant twice . . .” Her voice trailed off in innuendo.

Blair’s mouth twisted into a smirk. “I’m sure that happened in a five-star hotel so someone else’s sheets got soiled. Both times.”

The thought of her perfect mother having sex, especially with her father, was nauseating. “Actually . . .” Megan said. “She told Josh—thinking he was Jay—that she knew we were having sex in Seattle, so she put his bag in my room.”

Blair’s mouth gaped. “Knickers actually said the word sex?”

“No,” Megan cringed. “She called it hanky-panky. But now he’s sleeping in my room.”

“Yes!” Libby squealed, drawing the attention of the guests at a nearby table. “Megan’s gettin’ some tonight!”

“Libby!” Megan hissed, her face getting hotter. “I can’t.”

“Finally,” Blair groaned. “The first reasonable thing you’ve said today.”

Libby ignored her. “Why on earth not?”

“He’s not sticking around.”

“So? What’s the problem? You like him. Admit it.”

Megan squeezed her eyes shut. “Maybe.”

“You’d be crazy if you didn’t. He’s nice. He’s sexy as hell. He’s charming. He’s attentive. And he’s sexy as hell.”

“You already said that.”

Libby glanced over at Josh, who had pocketed his phone and was headed their way. “With a man as sexy as that, it can’t be said often enough.”

Megan blushed. When Libby was right, she was right, and now Megan couldn’t help thinking about what he could accomplish with all that sexiness.

Chapter Nine

As Josh walked away from Megan and her friends, Noah shouted in his ear, “What the hell is going on? You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Is this some new way to pick up women? Because I strongly recommend that you find a new technique.”

“Not exactly,” he said as he began to pace at the edge of the yard. “I left this trip up to fate, and you’ll never believe what has happened.”

“You got laid.”

“No. I sat next to Bart Vandemeer’s daughter on the plane.”

That got his attention. “What? Did you know she’d be on that flight?”

“No. I didn’t even know it was her until Bart Vandemeer shook my hand in the Kansas City airport.”

“Did he know who you were?”

“No . . . he mistook me for someone else.”

“Who?”

Josh rehashed the story, and Noah released a slow whistle. “This sounds more like me than you, little brother. Are you sure you can pull it off?”

“Amazingly, I have so far. We’ve even made it halfway through our engagement party.”

“An engagement party? Three days before the wedding?”

“Her mother’s a nutjob. A gold-digging, social wannabe nutjob. She spent enough money on this party to sustain a family of four for a year. God only knows what she’s planned for the wedding. Bart Vandemeer certainly has the motive. I think I’m onto something.” He paused. “No lecture? No admonishment?”

“Hell, no. You were right and I was wrong. Your plan is pure genius. I wholeheartedly approve.”

Noah’s approval set off blaring alarms. Josh stopped in his tracks. “You’re kidding.”

“No. Is Megan Vandemeer a looker? Are you going to hook up with her while you’re her fake fiancé?”

“What? No!”

“So she’s a dog?”

“No. She’s gorgeous, but I can’t start something with her. I have to break up with her as soon as I find some solid evidence.”

“Joshy, have I taught you nothing? Why not get some action while you’re out there? It’s perfect. You don’t have to worry about a long-term commitment because you’re only hanging around a few days and she knows you’re bailing. Why wouldn’t you go for that?”

“How’s she going to feel when she finds out the only reason I’m here is to find evidence proving her father is a thief?”

“It doesn’t matter, Josh,” Noah said, frustrated. “You’ll be gone. What’s the problem?”

Maybe Josh didn’t want to start something with her and be gone. He almost laughed at the irony. There had been three meaningful relationships in his life—two in college, and one he’d ended two years before. For some reason, none had ever felt quite right. By all appearances, they should have worked out. There were no compatibility issues, and Josh’s mother had approved of each of his exes, but he’d always felt like something was missing.

A spark.

He’d blamed himself. Since his father’s death, he’d been so driven to make his father’s legacy—his business—a success, he’d given the firm priority over everything and everyone in his life. He’d told himself there would be plenty of time to find the right person and start a family when the time came. Over the last few months, when it finally seemed as though the business had found solid ground, he’d allowed himself to examine his past relationships, determined to make the next one work.

His conclusion was sobering. He realized he could have lavished all the attention in the world on each one of his exes, and it still wouldn’t have worked. Though some might argue the connection he sought was the stuff of fairytales and folklore—two things Josh McMillan didn’t much believe in—there had been so much spark in his parents’ marriage that they had glowed with it.

That was why Josh found acknowledging his attraction to Megan so difficult. He realized he was not only attracted to her, but he’d finally found that elusive spark . . . except with her, it was more like a blaze. It was crazy. He hardly knew her, but there was no denying it. And while he was tempted to take Noah’s advice and indulge in his desire for her before he left, he couldn’t do it. From what he could see, Megan Vandemeer’s life was full of people dead set on hurting her. He didn’t want to add his name to that list.

And that strangled him more than he’d expected.

“How far are you going to take this?” Noah asked.

Josh sucked in a breath and pushed it out while simultaneously trying to force the thoughts of the sexy brunette out of his head. “I don’t know yet. Bart’s friends and associates have painted a pretty flattering picture of his character, but that doesn’t mean anything. Desperate men go to drastic measures. He seems like an ordinary guy, and he doesn’t have expensive hobbies—an occasional game of golf, camping, fishing . . .”

“A boat?”

“It’s twenty years old, with a small outboard motor.”

“So the wedding is his big expense?”

“I’m pretty sure money slips through his wife’s fingers like water. When I asked about Bart’s financial planner, one of his friends hinted that Bart doesn’t have much money to invest. A woman pulled me aside because she thought I might know what was going on. Joke’s on her, but she had something interesting to say. Rumor has it Bart refinanced the Vandemeers’ house to get the money to pay for the wedding of the year. And it still wasn’t enough.”

“So Bart could be the culprit?”

“Maybe. I was hoping Andrew Peterman, the second principal, would show, but so far he hasn’t made an appearance, and it’s getting late enough that I suspect he won’t.”

“Wow. I’m impressed. I didn’t think you had subterfuge in you, Joshy.”

Noah meant it as a compliment, but Josh suddenly felt dirty. “Nicole mentioned that Bart has a home office on the second floor with the bedrooms. I hope to search their house tonight after everyone goes to bed, but I suspect any real evidence is at his business office. Getting there could be challenging. Her mother is like Mother-of-the-Bridezilla. She’s made itineraries for each of us, and my time is booked solid up until the wedding. I have no idea how I’m going to get away to go to Vandemeer’s office.”

“Doesn’t her family think it’s weird you don’t have any family or friends there?”

“Megan said the shithead she was going to marry hardly had any friends, and neither his parents nor brother were planning on coming.”

“The guy sounds like a tool if his own parents weren’t going to the wedding. Is Vandemeer’s daughter a bitch?”

“No. Not from what I’ve seen. Quite the opposite, in fact. I can’t figure out why she was planning to marry the douche bag.”

“It doesn’t matter. I think you’re onto something. And the fact is, if you’re busy with all the wedding plans, then you need help.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your mother may not be coming to the wedding, but your brother can change his mind and show up tomorrow.”

“What? No!” Josh protested in panic.

“It’s perfect, Josh. I’ll have more free time than you. Besides, you and I both know this is more my type of caper than it is yours.” Noah laughed. “You’re out of your league, Joshy. Admit it.”

Josh paced, rubbing the back of his neck. Noah showing up could be a potential disaster. Noah tended to be a loose cannon. But Josh had to admit he needed help, and Noah had been the one to corner them into this situation in the first place. Time was ticking down, and he’d known going into this that he was going to have to resort to rolling in the mud. “Fine, but you have to behave yourself, Noah.”

“Hey! When have I not behaved myself?”

“Consider why we’re in this situation to begin with . . .”

“Jeez, one time—”

“One time?” Josh shook his head. “Dammit.” This plan was even more insane than the course he was currently on. “I’m not telling them that you’re coming. I can’t think of a single reason to justify you showing up tomorrow. Megan wants to break up at the party tonight, and I don’t want to scare her into going through with it.”

“You can’t let her break up with you!”

“I know. And for the most part, I’m safe. Megan is trying to save face with her mother, and I’ve been the perfect boyfriend.”

“Like that’s a stretch,” Noah snorted. Leave it to Noah to make an attentive boyfriend sound like a bad thing.

“The point is that she needs me to act like a first-class jerk before she can break up with me, although it would come across even better for her if I break up with her. And I have no intention of doing either tonight.”

“So you’re safe.”

In theory, but he could also end up infuriating Megan. While he’d accept that in a pinch, the better option was if he could get her to agree to the delay. And if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t want her to be angry with him.

“I’ve told Megan we should break up tomorrow. She hasn’t agreed, but one of her best friends likes me and is trying to get her to put it off. I think I can get her to hold off until at least tomorrow night. But that’s not near enough time if you show up in the afternoon. I might have to try pushing the breakup off to Friday, but that’s cutting it pretty close to the wedding.” He paused. “Maybe I’ll find what we need tomorrow.”

“Not likely.”

Could Josh afford to turn down his brother’s help? He had four days before the axe dropped on their big deal. He was going to have to bend some of his ethics to get the proof he needed, and that thought didn’t sit well with him. “I don’t even know what I’m looking for, Noah. How do I pin this on them?”

“See if you can get access to Bart’s emails from around the time my bag was stolen. Try to find a copy of the plans with our name on it.”

“You really think someone’s going to keep a copy of an incriminating document?”

“Yes. I do.”

Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “So where do I look?”

“The Vandemeer house is a good start. I doubt he’d want to keep the plans in the office. How would he explain it to his colleagues? But if his wife found it, no big deal . . . I bet none of his family would give it a second thought.”

Josh had to admit that Noah was right. “This is a great start if Bart’s our guy, but I still haven’t figured out how I’m going to explain your sudden appearance.”

“I can play the role of the surprise drop-in brother. Send me an address.”

“But why would you show up? How did you find out where I was?”

“You let me worry about all of that. You just act completely surprised to see me. Now what’s the address?”

Josh had a sinking suspicion he was going to regret this. “I’ll text it to you.”

“See you tomorrow, Joshy.”

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to this family reunion.

He rejoined Megan and her friends. Libby was watching him like he was an all-you-can-eat buffet, though one she didn’t care to dine at, while Megan looked embarrassed, and Blair was doing her damnedest to pretend he didn’t exist.

“I need to use the restroom,” Josh said, needing to escape for a few minutes. Hopefully it would also give him the opportunity to do a quick search, as he’d planned.

“You can use the powder room on the first floor,” Megan told him.

Feeling someone’s gaze on him as he made his way across the deck to the back door, Josh looked back to see Kevin watching him. Shaking his head, he let himself into the house and used the restroom, then opened the door, planning to head upstairs to look for Bart’s office. But as he moved toward the stairs, he heard a voice from behind the partially open bedroom door at the end of the hall. He paused, looking to see if anyone would notice him eavesdropping. When he didn’t see anyone, he moved closer, realizing it was Bart Vandemeer’s voice.

“No . . . you know it’s too late.” There was silence for several moments before he said, “That’s not what I said. You know I want to help . . . I’m just . . . tied up.”

Bart was obviously on the phone, but who was he talking to and what was the call about?

“We always knew there would be casualties,” Bart said, sounding unhappy. “Talk to the attorney and see what he says.”

Was he talking about Josh potentially fighting the patent?

“Hear anything good?” Blair whispered behind him.

He jumped and spun around, trying to keep a poker face. “Hey, Blair. I was looking for the restroom.”

“Hmm . . .” She crossed her arms. “You seem to have passed it.” She pointed her thumb to the partially open door behind him.

“Huh.” He tried to sound nonchalant. “The door was closed when I went by. I heard Bart in the other room, so I decided to ask him where I could find another bathroom.”

Blair pinned him with her steely gaze.

The bedroom door opened, and Bart came out. “Oh!” he said in surprise, looking nervous. “I haven’t had a chance to say hi to you, Blair. How are you doing?”

“Good.”

“I see you met Josh. Or had you met him before?”

Josh held his breath, waiting for Blair to expose him.

“Nope. This was my first opportunity to meet Josh.”

If Bart heard the inflection, he didn’t let on. “Are you ready for Megan’s wedding excitement?”

Blair’s mouth crooked into a devious smile. “You have no idea.”

“Well . . .” He squeezed past the two of them. “I better get back out to Nicole. I’m sure she’s fit to be tied over something.” He continued toward the kitchen, but Blair didn’t budge, blocking Josh’s path.

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”

“I told you. I was looking for the restroom.”

She shook her head slowly, keeping her gaze on him. “No. You’re up to something. I can feel it. The question is what?”

Josh held his hands out at his side. “I’m just trying to help Megan.”

“No. I don’t—”

“You are unbelievable!” Megan said in a loud voice, walking up behind Blair. “I told you to leave him alone!”

Blair turned to face her friend, and Josh slid past her, moving next to Megan. “I told you that I don’t trust him, and sure enough, I found him eavesdropping outside your parents’ room.”

“Eavesdropping on what? My mother’s outside, and I just passed my father.”

“Megan. Listen to me. Josh was listening to your father’s phone call.”

Josh plastered a look of what he hoped was innocence on his face. “I was looking for the restroom. I heard your dad’s voice, so I was going to ask him where it was. Then Blair showed up and accused me of . . . I’m not sure what.” Josh hated lying, but here he was, lying through his teeth. The guilt was overwhelming.

“You can’t trust this guy, Megan!”

“Blair! Keep your voice down,” Megan whisper-hissed. “Why in the world would Josh eavesdrop on my father? What could he hope to hear? Do you know how paranoid and crazy that sounds?”

“It might sound paranoid, but it’s true.”

Megan shook her head. “You’ll do anything to prove me wrong, won’t you?”

Blair looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll resort to making up lies to get me to end our arrangement.”

Blair’s mouth dropped open. “Have you lost your mind?”

Tears filled Megan’s eyes. “You’ve already decided that I have, so why do you keep asking?”

“Megan.” Blair’s voice softened.

Megan shook her head. “Stop. Just stop.” Then she took a deep breath and turned to Josh. “My mother wants my father to formally introduce us to their friends.” He started to say something, but she held up her hand. “Yes, I know. We’ve already talked to every single one of them, but nevertheless . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Blair’s anger returned. “If you think I’m going to stay here and watch this—”

“Go!” Megan said, her eyes blazing. “If you can’t watch this, then go. No one is making you stay.”

“Megan,” Josh interrupted, his guilt crushing him. He couldn’t let her ruin a decades-long friendship over him.

“You’re choosing him over me?” Blair demanded. When Megan didn’t answer, she pushed on. “You’re picking a man whom you’ve known for approximately ten hours over your friend of twenty-five years.”

“No, Blair. You chose for me.” Megan grabbed Josh’s wrist and pulled him down the hall, leaving a stunned Blair in her wake.

“Megan, really—” Josh stammered.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s go get introduced.”

By the time they reached the kitchen, her hand trembled in his clasp. She was upset whether she wanted to admit it or not.

“Megan.” He pulled her to a halt. “Hold on for a second.”

She stopped in front of him, looking up at him with questioning eyes. She was so agonizingly close, and she looked so vulnerable. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her, assuring her that everything would be okay . . . but he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure everything would be okay once the dust finally settled.

“Give me a minute, okay?” he asked, certain she would afford him the time she thought he needed to collect himself. He felt less guilt over this small duplicity. It was for her benefit, so he could live with it.

They were still holding hands, he suddenly noticed. He thought about dropping his hold, but couldn’t seem to let go. “She’ll get over it,” he finally said.

She let out a deep breath, then forced a smile. “I’m not so sure.”

“Libby will smooth things over.”

Her smile turned genuine. “Yeah, she can’t stand it when we fight.”

“I like Libby.” He reached his free hand around Megan’s back and pulled her to his chest before he realized what he was doing. Touching her was as natural as breathing, and while that was dangerous, he didn’t much care at the moment.

She relaxed into him, resting her cheek on his chest.

They stood still for nearly a minute, and with every ticking second, Josh felt more and more certain this woman was different than every other woman he had ever met. The question was what did he do with that information? He didn’t see any way to achieve a positive outcome.

Nicole Vandemeer poked her head through the back door. “There you are! Aren’t you too precious, stealing a moment for yourselves? You can hug later. Your father wants you out here for an official introduction.”

Josh wasn’t fooled. The introduction had to be Nicole’s idea, but at the moment he was Nicole Vandemeer’s golden boy, and he wasn’t about to say a word.

Chapter Ten

Josh dropped his arm but held Megan’s hand again, lacing their fingers together. She liked it more than she should, just like she’d felt when he was holding her. Somehow he’d known she couldn’t handle facing her mother’s friends immediately after her run-in with Blair. The confrontation had upset her more than she was willing to admit to either of them. Josh had used the excuse of needing a moment for himself, but she wasn’t fooled. He’d done it for her. In the entire time she’d known Jay Connors, he’d never once been intuitive about her feelings, and this man she’d known for less than a day could see right through her.

She looked up at him, suddenly feeling shy, although she wasn’t sure why.

He gave her a warm smile that reached his eyes, filling her with reassurance. “We want to keep Knickers happy, don’t we?”

She laughed. “You picked up on that quick.”

He didn’t answer as they headed out onto the deck. All the guests were still in the process of being ushered down to the patio around the pool. Her mother led Megan and Josh to the railing that overlooked the yard. Her father stood to the side, looking embarrassed and totally out of his element.

Megan’s mother cleared her throat, a delicate sound that garnered everyone’s attention anyway. “We’d like to thank you all—our dearest friends—for coming to celebrate the engagement of our only daughter, Megan Nicole Vandemeer.” She paused and gave Megan her best fake smile, a look convincing enough to fool ninety-nine percent of the people she met, but not her own daughter. Then she turned back to the crowd. “Bart would like to say a few words.”

Megan looked down at the sixty or seventy faces of her mother’s dearest friends, who stood around the pool and spilled into the edges of the yard. She’d only seen three of those faces before tonight. Libby, a hopeless romantic who was currently glowing with excitement. Her grandmother, who looked like she was privy to some private joke. And Kevin, still manning his position at the bar while he shot daggers of contempt at the man standing next to her.

If she could ignore the fact that her mother had set this up—and, of course, all the blatant Disney references—the view in front of her was breathtaking. The sky had darkened, and the floating candles on the water and the candle chandelier hanging from the tent emitted a magical golden glow. If she were a woman prone to falling for romance, this display would have swept her away. No wonder Libby looked so orgasmic.

She heard her father talking, so she tuned into his words. “Our daughter and our soon-to-be son-in-law . . .”

Suddenly the beauty of the scene hit her in a different way. Her mother had created this mostly for herself, but it had been intended as a celebration of her upcoming nuptials. The whole thing was a farce. Everything about it was a lie. She felt incredibly alone and panicked and messed up and . . . Josh squeezed her hand. She looked up at him and smiled, surprised by what she saw in his face. He was either an incredibly good actor, or the lust in his eyes was real.

“. . . Megan and Josh.”

Her mother clapped next to her, then announced, “And now we’ll perform the handfasting ceremony.”

That caught her attention. Megan whipped her head around. “What?”

Her mother was already moving behind them, a long strip of wide pink ribbon in her hand.

“Mom,” Megan whispered loudly. “What are you doing?”

“I won’t be outdone by that snotty Barbara Decker,” her mother whispered as she reached for Josh’s right hand. “They did this at her daughter’s wedding, and everyone loved it.” She picked up Megan’s hand and placed it palm-down on Josh’s forearm.

“News flash, Mom,” Megan hissed. “That was at her wedding.”

Her mother gave her an exasperated huff. “Reverend Snyder refuses to allow it as part of the ceremony. We’ll just do it here.” She looped the ribbon around Josh’s wrist.

“Mother!”

Josh grinned and gave her a shrug.

There was no way she could get out of it now.

Her mother wound the ribbon around their arms and hands, weaving it in and out and making knots in various places as she spoke to the crowd about the commitment of marriage and how it would bind them together forever, trailing off when she got to a difficult part of the binding.

“Can you hold this?” she finally asked Josh, handing him one end of the ribbon.

He looked like he was about to break into a fit of laughter, but he pressed his lips together as Megan’s mother fumbled with the other end. After two minutes, Megan and Josh’s arms were hopelessly tied and knotted together. Her mother beamed, holding her arms out as if she’d pulled off some great accomplishment, like curing cancer or creating the world in seven days. Instead, she had manufactured a mess that Megan was certain nothing less than divine intervention or a pair of sharp scissors could undo.

The partygoers graced the bizarre performance with a weak round of applause, but if Nicole was disappointed, she didn’t let on. Megan’s mother started to pick at the knots—a hopeless task—but stopped when a woman approached her.

“Nicole, we have to go, but thank you so much for inviting us to such a beautiful party.” She glanced at Megan and Josh, her gaze dropping to their arms, which were trussed up like an unwanted Christmas present, before returning to their faces. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Let me walk you out,” her mother called after the woman.

“Mom!” When her mother didn’t so much as glance at them, Megan released a heavy sigh and gave Josh a sidelong glance.

An ornery grin spread across his face. “It may be a little late for this question, but how do you feel about bondage?”

Megan was grateful that the darkness hid the blush that rushed to her cheeks. “We need to find a pair of scissors.”

“We need to find someone else to use them,” he added. “We’re both right-handed.” He gave a tiny shake of their joined hands.

She wondered how he knew that for sure, then realized he must have noticed. What else had he noticed about her? “I’m sorry about this.”

“I think that may have honestly been one of the top five oddest experiences in my life.”

Jay might have said the same thing, but it would have been dripping with derision. She could tell that Josh was genuinely amused.

Despite her suggestion to find scissors, Megan tried to pick at one of the knots with her left hand. “Stick around a couple of days,” she said dryly. “I’m sure we’ll be able to trump your entire top ten list.”

“This is a good look for you, Megan.” Libby joined them, giggling. “You’re usually so straitlaced. Oh, wait. You are laced.”

Megan shot her a glare.

“But usually when a couple does the bondage thing, the woman’s mother isn’t the one tying them up.”

Josh burst out laughing.

“Shut up, Libby.” Megan chuckled in spite of her mortification. “Find some scissors.”

“I’m tempted to—”

“Scissors. Now.”

Libby took off for the kitchen, still laughing.

Megan looked around for her father, but she realized he’d taken off while her mother was busy hog-tying her to Josh. Gram was nowhere to be seen, but Kevin was making his way toward them with two glasses.

Still grinning, Josh took several steps backward to move them to the lower, currently unoccupied deck, then swept his left hand toward an outdoor loveseat and a coffee table tucked into a dark corner. “Would you care to sit down? I suspect this might take a few minutes.”

“Sure.”

He sat on the coffee table, holding her elbow to steady her as she sat on the seat in front of him.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “I had no idea she would do something like that.”

Kevin finally reached them and handed them each a glass. “This is for fortification. Good show, by the way. Do you do a matinee?”

“Oh, God. I’m so glad I don’t know any of those people.” Megan took a big gulp from her drink. Josh watched her, then sipped from his own.

“Not to worry,” Kevin said as he sat on the loveseat next to her, keeping his gaze on Josh. “You’ll get to see them all again on Saturday.”

“Saturday?” Megan asked before going in for another swallow of the fruity drink he’d brought her.

“Your wedding?”

Oh, shit. She choked on the drink and spit it out all over the front of Josh’s shirt.

His eyes widened in surprise, but then he started to laugh.

“I’m so sorry!” Megan gushed, starting to reach for his shirt before remembering she still had her drink in hand. She finished it off and handed the empty glass to Kevin. “I’m going to need another.”

Josh downed his and handed his glass to Kevin as well. “Make that two.”

“I’m gonna expect a huge tip.” He got up and headed down the steps to the patio.

Megan used her left hand to pat at Josh’s chest. “I am so sor—”

He cut her off, reaching behind her head and pulling her mouth to his. His kiss was soft and tentative, as though he expected her to pull away. She leaned into him instead, sliding the hand pressed to his chest up to the side of his face. His tongue ran along her lower lip, and she gasped.

“Megan!” her mother called.

Josh lifted his head. The candlelight shone in his eyes, and she was grateful for the blatant desire she saw there. This wasn’t for show. This was real.

“Your mother’s calling,” he murmured.

Megan closed her eyes for a second and groaned. “I just want this party to be over.” She lifted their still-joined arms. “And for us to be untied.”

He chuckled, then leaned in to kiss her again. “Being tied to you has been an interesting experience.”

“Megan! Come say goodbye to our guests!” her mother shouted from the other side of the pool.

Megan took comfort in the fact that her mother’s gaze was swinging around the yard in an attempt to locate them. She didn’t seem to notice them tucked into the corner.

“She expects us to interact with people while we’re tied up like this?” Josh asked, incredulous.

“I suspect she’s already forgotten that we are.”

“So what are the chances of hiding out here?”

“Not so great, since Kevin’s about to give us away.”

Sure enough, her brother, who was on his way back to them with two more drinks, had stopped beside their mother and was motioning to them. He gave Megan a huge grin.

“That sadistic bastard,” she mumbled.

He continued toward them, still grinning.

“Thanks for selling me out,” Megan grumbled, snatching a glass out of his hand. “What was that about?’

He put Josh’s drink on the table and leaned back, observing them for a moment, his smile having slipped away again. “I’m going to be brutally honest.”

Josh picked up the drink, then said wryly, “I’m glad you decided to give that a go.”

Megan had hardly eaten, and the drink she’d guzzled down had already gone to her head. She giggled and Kevin shot her a dirty look.

“I don’t like you, Connors.” Kevin jabbed his finger into Josh’s chest. “You’ve treated my sister like shit for too long, and I’ve decided that I’m going to stop this wedding.”

Megan shook her head to clear it. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s a cold-blooded prick who doesn’t give a shit about you. I should have said something months ago, but I’m saying it now.”

“Kevin!” she said, standing up and pulling Josh with her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know all too well what I’m talking about.” He stood. “I told you—Gram and I have been talking. We know what he’s like.” He waved his hand haphazardly toward Josh. “I know he ignores you most of the time in Seattle. I don’t know what this little display of affection is all about, but your audience here in the corner is practically nonexistent. Save the show for when it counts.”

He turned on his heels and stomped off.

“I’m so sorry,” she said for the umpteenth time. “He had no right to do that.”

He was silent for a moment, then turned to her. “Yes, he did.”

“Why would you—”

“Megan,” he said quietly. “From what little I’ve gathered, Jay did treat you like shit.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“More reasons than you can guess.” He moved closer to her, lowering his voice. “I’m glad your brother is looking out for you. Too little too late, as far as I’m concerned. Still . . .” His voice trailed off.

“But he thinks you’re Jay.”

He shrugged. “Part of the gig.”

Which made her question once again the real reason he was doing this. Karma and fate felt like bullshit answers. Still, it wasn’t fair for Josh to pay for Jay’s crimes. “Maybe we should break it off now.”

“What? Why?”

“Before you get hurt.”

He snaked his left arm around her back and pulled her close, his face inches above hers. “I’m not going to get hurt. I’m a big boy.”

“But Kevin . . .”

His breath was warm on her face and her skin flushed. “Kevin’s not going to hurt me.” He kissed her gently, then sucked her lower lip between his teeth.

Every part of her combusted and a bolt of desire shot straight to her groin.

“Don’t break up with me, Megan,” he whispered against her mouth. “Not tonight.”

He kissed her, his tongue licking her lip again before it slipped into her mouth, coaxing her tongue. When she responded, he lifted his mouth inches from hers. “Promise me no more talk about breaking up tonight.”

“Okay,” she said breathlessly.

His mouth claimed hers again, demanding and insistent. She tried to press closer to him, but their bound hands got in the way.

“Where’s Libby?” she groaned.

He murmured his amusement against her lips.

“Megan!” her mother shouted again.

Megan pulled away. “I’m going to tell her that we’re exhausted from the time change and we need to go to bed.”

He shook his head in confusion. “But it’s two hours earlier in Seattle.”

“Trust me. She always gets the times mixed up when we try to plan phone calls.” She tugged him across the deck until they were standing in front of her mother.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “You’re still wearing your bindings. That’s so sweet.”

“Mother,” she said through gritted teeth. “We can’t get them off.”

“I think that’s a good sign.” She turned to the woman next to her. “Don’t you?”

Megan took a deep breath, then offered her mother and her guest a tight smile. “Josh and I are exhausted from the time change. We’re going to head to bed. I’ll help clean this up tomorrow.”

“But—”

“Good night, Mom!” Megan called over her shoulder as she pulled Josh through the back door.

They found Libby in the kitchen sitting on a barstool as she sipped a glass of water and snacked on a plate of fresh carrots and celery. “You’re still into bondage, I see. I hope you two have discussed a safe word. Personally, my current favorite is Ferris wheel.”

Why was Megan so surprised by the roles her friends had fallen into—Libby as matchmaker and Blair as prison guard? This was typical of their dynamic. “Where are the scissors, Libby?”

“Scissors?” she asked and winked at Josh. Then she lifted a tea towel on the counter and slid a pair across the granite counter. “I thought you might want a little more quality time.”

“Well, I’m sure Josh was happy with the quality time we just had with Kevin. For some reason, he’s decided to go all ‘concerned big brother.’ He announced that he’s going to stop the wedding.”

“Huh.” Libby looked amused. Then she waved her hand, dismissing the subject. “I’ll take care of it.”

Megan shook her head. “Look, we’ll sort this out tomorrow, but right now I need you to cut us loose.”

Libby gave them a mock pout. “I didn’t think the binding ties made in a Knickers ceremony should be so easily cut asunder.”

“Libby.”

Libby pursed her lips, mischief in her eyes. “This has to be consensual.” She turned to Josh with mock seriousness. “Josh, do you agree to cut these ties that bind?” Both of them started to laugh.

“Yes, cut us loose,” Josh managed to say.

It took Libby several minutes to cut them free. Megan rubbed the deep indentations on her arm.

Wearing a grin, Libby nodded toward Megan’s arm. “Looks like Knickers needs some lessons on bondage. I know a dominatrix who would be happy to teach her. Imagine how thrilled your dad would be.”

Megan cringed. “Eww. Stop.”

Josh’s eyes widened. “You know a dominatrix?”

“Yeah,” Libby shrugged. “I can set you up with a private session if you’d like.”

Jealousy rushed through Megan in a hot wave, taking her by surprise. And it wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way tonight. She wasn’t typically a jealous person, so what was that about? She grabbed Josh’s wrist. “He’ll be tied up.”

“He already was tied up.”

Josh chuckled.

Megan groaned and headed for the stairs, pulling Josh with her. “Bye, Libby.”

“Josh, if you change your mind, let me know,” Libby called after them, the merest hint of a laugh in her voice.

Megan didn’t stop until she got him into her room and shut the door. He stood with his back to it, waiting for her to make a move. His smile was gone; his eyes were serious.

He was probably the most handsome man she’d ever known, but this was crazy. She hadn’t even known him twenty-four hours. Yet . . . she wanted this.

“I hardly know you,” she finally said.

The corners of his mouth tipped up slightly. “I know.”

“You don’t know me either.”

“True.”

She’d had two drinks in quick succession, and while she wasn’t drunk, it had certainly shaved the edge off her nerves. “I like you.”

His grin faded and his voice turned husky. “I like you, too.”

She took a step toward him. “Did you fake that kiss a few minutes ago? Was it a performance, like Kevin suggested?”

He released a breath of disbelief and gave a small shake of his head. “God, no.”

She took a deep breath. “Do you want to schedule a session with Libby’s dominatrix?”

Josh’s eyes lit up and he released a chuckle. “No.”

She took another step toward him, leaving two feet between them.

He closed the distance, slowly reaching for her face with both hands and cupping her cheeks as he looked deep into her eyes. Still he hesitated.

“What are we doing?” she whispered, resting her hands on his chest.

“I’m not sure.”

“This is crazy.”

A hint of a smile returned. “I know.” A silent war waged in his eyes before he kissed her. It was gentle at first, as if he were as shocked as she was that they were doing this.

This was so out of character for Megan. She wasn’t a prude, and while she had no hard and fast rule about how many dates needed to precede sex, it didn’t usually happen until after the third. She wasn’t sure if she could count the engagement party tonight as their first date, but she had no doubt that she wanted this. She’d never believed in chemistry before, but one touch, one kiss from this man had made her a convert.

She grabbed the back of his head and opened her mouth to him, teasing the tip of his tongue with hers.

It was as if she’d released a flood gate. He moved a hand behind her back, pressing her chest tighter to his, and his mouth became more demanding. Her body answered. A surge of desire washed through her, and the urge to be closer to him, to feel his bare skin under her fingertips, was impossible to resist.

She loosened the knot in his tie, then set to work on the buttons on his shirt. He reached behind her for the zipper of her dress and pulled it down.

They broke apart, both of them breathless as Josh pushed her sleeves down her arms, his fingertips trailing softly in the fabric’s wake. Her dress puddled at her feet, and she stepped over it, sliding off her sandals in the process.

She stood in front of him wearing only a white lace bra and panties, thankful she’d had the foresight to not only pack matching undergarments but ones that were worthy of being seen.

Josh gasped slightly at the sight of her and then reached for her again, crushing her mouth with his.

She placed her hands on his bare chest and slid them around to his back, her hands gripping his shoulder blades. She pulled him backward to the edge of the bed, then reached for his belt, quickly unfastening it before working on the button and zipper of his jeans. A groan released from her as she felt the bulge of his erection against her hand.

She stared up at him, flushing at the desire in his eyes as he admired her body. And she expected him to kiss her again, but he took a step backward instead, conflict in his eyes.

He took a deep breath and heaved it out. “I don’t think we should do this.”

Horror rushed through her. “What?”

He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I can sleep on the sofa . . .”

“No. You can’t.” She shook her head, trying to regain her senses. “My mom . . .”

His mouth opened as though he wanted to say something, then closed abruptly.

She turned her back to him, mortified at his rejection. “It’s a queen-sized bed. We can both sleep here.”

“Megan, it’s not you . . .”

“No,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. “You’re right. This was a bad idea. We’ll break up first thing tomorrow, and then you can get back to saving your business.” She spun around to face him. “That’s ultimately why you’re here, right? I’m just a good karma detour.”

“Uh . . .” He looked toward the wall and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.” He shifted his gaze toward the bathroom door. “I’m going to take a shower. Do you need to use . . . ?”

She shook her head. “No. Go.”

He grabbed his bag and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She picked her dress up off the floor and opened her suitcase, pulling out a nightgown, thanking the stars above that it was utilitarian and not sexy—a complete about-face from a few moments ago.

The shower turned on, and she stripped off her bra and pulled the gown over her head, then dropped her discarded dress into the bag.

How in the world could she sleep with him now?

But a wave of exhaustion overcame her, so she pulled back the covers and climbed under them. The lamp on her bedside table filled the room with a warm glow, transporting her back over ten years, to when she had lived in this room. She’d failed her mother’s expectations as a teen and young girl. Was that why she’d stuck with Jay, even when she knew he was so wrong? Her mother held marriage and motherhood on such a high pedestal; maybe marrying Jay had been one last-ditch effort to mend burned bridges. But it turned out that Megan was a failure at getting married, too.

But the final nail in the femininity coffin was Josh’s rejection. Did he wish he’d gone home with Libby instead? Was he in the bathroom thinking about her now?

Libby was like a siren. She drew men like honey did flies, and half the time she didn’t even realize the power of her allure. How many times had Libby taken the attention of the boys Megan crushed on in high school? But there was never any malice in Libby’s behavior. She was like a candle that burned so brightly men had no choice but to notice her. Megan didn’t doubt that if Libby had gotten ahold of Josh first, he would be in her bed right now. Maybe that’s what he was thinking about in the shower.

But the thought sent another blaze of jealousy through her, and she had to laugh at her idiocy. Josh McMillan had never been hers. This was an arrangement, and the sooner she not only accepted it, but ended it, the better.

Chapter Eleven

Josh stayed in the shower until the water turned cold, and then stayed in even longer. If Megan kept looking at him with that longing in her eyes, he couldn’t guarantee he’d keep his hands to himself. And although every part of him demanded he go into the other room and satisfy them both, the sliver of decency still burning inside him—despite all the duplicity—demanded that he respect her enough to keep his hands to himself. So he took his time drying off and dressing in a pair of athletic shorts and a T-shirt. When he opened the door, he was prepared for an inner battle of epic proportions.

He took a few steps into the room. Megan was huddled under the covers, her eyes closed. Her long dark hair had pooled on the pillow and her worry lines ebbed away, leaving a peacefulness he hadn’t yet seen in her.

She was asleep.

He let out a breath of relief. An asleep Megan made things immeasurably easier. Especially since he was still planning to escape the room and search the house for evidence of her father’s deceit.

He cracked open the door and listened for a moment. Voices drifted up the stairs, and he recognized one of them as belonging to Megan’s mother. So the party had moved inside. He could at least search the rooms upstairs, but as he started out the door, he heard Kevin’s voice on the stairs.

“Are you worn out, Gram?”

“Heavens, no. This was nothing compared to the parties your grandfather and I used to host.”

Kevin laughed. “Mom’s parties tend to be pretty dull.”

“She’s more interested in the show than she is in having fun.”

He laughed again. “Maybe that’s why the party’s over by ten p.m. Yours always went well into the morning.”

“Which is part of the reason why your mother had a conniption when she realized what we had you doing.”

“I learned some valuable life skills, Gram,” he teased.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you. Especially when you see your inheritance from me.”

Kevin released a long rumbling laugh. “I’ve missed you, Gram.”

“You and your sister need to come home more often. In spite of what you both think, your mother does love you. She just has a hard time showing it.”

“I know, but it’s hard to escape the Death Star once you’re in its gravitational pull. It’s safer to keep a healthy distance.” He was silent for a moment. “I still say there’s something off about Megan’s fiancé.”

“Josh? You promised me you’d give him a chance tonight.”

“Yeah,” he growled. “I did, but now I trust him even less. A guy doesn’t just go from being a cold fish to being so affectionate.”

“We don’t know that he was cold to her. Only suspected.”

“We both know her, Gram. Did she ever seem happy with him?”

“No, but people change,” Megan’s grandmother said. “Maybe he came to his senses and changed. If anything, I trust him more after meeting him. He’s good to her, Kevin. I know you had to notice the way he was looking at her tonight.”

“Yeah, but what’s behind the change? Something’s up, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

Josh sucked in a breath. So Libby wasn’t the only one who’d noticed his attentiveness? That was a good thing, right?

“You need to stay out of your sister’s business.”

“I’ve stayed out of it for too long. If he’s marrying her, he’d better love her.”

Josh hoped he was a couple of thousand miles away when Kevin discovered the truth.

“You’re a good big brother,” the older woman said. “Just make sure your motives are pure.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Guilt has a funny way of bending people.” They were silent for a moment. “I’m getting off to bed. I need my rest. Your mother thinks she’s putting on the royal wedding.”

“Night, Gram.”

Josh stood with his ear pressed to the door, wondering how good of a brother Kevin actually was. He’d suspected his sister was unhappy for at least two years without ever calling her on it. Where had he been while Megan was dating the bastard who’d cheated on her? Maybe Josh would let him know what Jay had done after everything had played out. He liked the idea of someone seeking retribution on her behalf.

His ears strained to hear further conversation, or at least the closing and opening of doors, but instead he was greeted with silence.

Dammit. He’d been so busy thinking about Megan he hadn’t paid attention to which rooms they’d gone into. It wasn’t like he could check out the office now anyway. Both Grams and Kevin were up here and awake, and they could catch him at any moment. He needed to wait until everyone was asleep.

A sudden wave of exhaustion overtook him, catching him by surprise. Although he was still partially resistant to his brother’s impending arrival, he had to admit that part of him was relieved Noah would be jumping on board. The clumsy way his brother had lost the plans notwithstanding, Noah was an expert at subterfuge. Although Josh was loath to admit it, he needed him. He only hoped he came up with a plausible explanation for showing up. Maybe he should come up with a backup plan. Just in case.

But he still had tonight, even if he couldn’t do anything for at least half an hour, which left him unsure of how to pass the time. Since he was so tired, he decided to lie down on the bed and rest, maybe check his emails on his phone.

But Megan was in the bed.

He knew he should sleep on the floor—he could grab a pillow and use the blanket he’d seen in the bathroom closet. But he sank down onto the edge of the bed instead, then lay down on his side, facing her. Her hands lay on her pillow, in front of her face, and she wore a serene look that tugged at something deep in his heart.

She shifted, releasing a soft murmur in her sleep, and he resisted the urge to reach out and take her hand in his. Josh closed his eyes and breathed in her soft floral scent. It reminded him of summer and happier times before his father’s death. Back before his life became so serious and his brother became a self-centered dick. While their father’s death had made Josh more determined than ever to join the family business, Noah had resisted the responsibility. And although he’d done a respectable job of holding it together until Josh graduated and joined full time, Noah had been irresponsible in every other conceivable way since. If Noah were an employee, Josh would have fired him years ago.

He figured he’d lie on the bed for half an hour, then sneak out to investigate, but drowsiness overtook him. Too many sleepless nights spent worrying about his employees’ futures had caught up with him. When he closed his eyes, he promised himself it would just be for a minute, yet when he woke up, Megan had rolled the opposite direction and the room was somewhat bright.

Oh, shit. It was morning.

He groped around the bed for his cell phone, eventually finding it down by his knees. When he saw the time, relief washed over him. 6:45. Time to get up and start working on the real purpose for his presence here.

Megan rolled over and faced him, her eyes still closed, her hands buried under her pillow. He watched her for several seconds, resisting the urge to brush the stray strands of hair from her cheek. She’d kicked the covers partially off as she turned and her bare legs were bent, her nightgown riding up to the curve of her ass, showing him the lacy underwear he’d gotten an eyeful of the night before. Memories of touching her and kissing her washed through him, making him hard. If he woke her up by kissing her, how would she respond?

No.

It took every ounce of restraint he possessed to keep from touching her.

He carefully slid off the bed and grabbed his bag, taking it into the bathroom so he could change. After closing the bathroom door as quietly as possible, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a cotton button-down shirt. He slipped out of the bathroom and then out of Megan’s room into the hall, standing still as he listened for any noise. The question was, which room was the one he wanted?

It was still early enough that everyone was likely sleeping, so he stood in the second floor hallway and took stock. There were four doors: two on Megan’s side of the hall and two on the opposite wall. Megan’s bathroom shared a bathroom with another bedroom, which had to be the other door on her side. That meant the two doors on the opposite side were either both bedrooms, or one was a bathroom. One thing was sure: one of the rooms housed Bart’s home office. He only hoped it wasn’t currently being used as a guest room.

He moved to the door opposite Megan’s and pressed his ear to the door. The light snoring he heard told him everything he needed to know. Now his odds were fifty-fifty.

When he pressed his ear to the door of the room next to the occupied room, he didn’t hear anything. Ditto for the room at the end of the hall. Someone was sleeping in one of the rooms, but which one? Since he hadn’t heard anyone using the bathroom attached to Megan’s room last night, he decided the most likely room for Gram was the one attached to Kevin’s. Which left the door at the end of the hall.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it slowly, pushing the door gently when he felt it unlatch. He swung the door open and instantly panicked.

Megan’s grandmother was stark naked next to the bed, with her hands and feet on the floor and her saggy butt up in the air, giving him a view he would—unfortunately—never forget.

Josh’s brain told him, Retreat! Retreat! But his feet refused to move.

“Josh!” Gram’s face appeared between her ankles. “Good morning!”

“Sorry!” he sputtered out. “I was looking for a bathroom.”

“This isn’t it, but come do yoga with me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Uh . . . I’m not really a yoga fan.” He started to back up and ran into the doorjamb.

“That’s probably because you haven’t tried it au naturel.”

He cringed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”

“Come on. Don’t be a prude.”

He opened his eyes and turned his gaze to the opposite side of the room. “I . . . can’t . . . I told Megan . . . I’d get her some coffee.”

Gram laughed. “That girl’s like her mother. She doesn’t believe in gettin’ up before eight a.m. I have a hard time believing she’s up.”

Josh was pretty sure Megan wouldn’t care to be compared to her mother. “Well, we both went to bed early . . .”

“What kind of positions are you kids trying these days? Back when Nicole was younger, her father and I were quite fond of the Kama Sutra. It helped us keep flexible.”

Josh nodded, still not looking at her. His face felt like it was on fire. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sure it would.”

“Well?”

“What?” Oh, Lord. Did she really expect him to answer?

“What positions are you kids using?”

Was she referring to the younger generation in general or to his and Megan’s presumed sex life in particular? Either way, he had no desire to discuss sex of any sort with Megan’s naked grandmother.

“Are you sexually repressed, Joshua?”

“What? No!”

“Then why don’t you strip off your clothes and join me?”

“Megan’s coffee . . .” he stammered.

“Sexual repression is a very bad thing. My daughter is the most repressed person I know, and look how she turned out. I told Bart she’d be an easier person for all of us to live with if he’d just put his foot down once in a while.”

Gram struggled to get upright, and Josh hovered on indecision. He knew he should offer the octogenarian his help . . . but she was naked. And the image had already burned holes in his retinas. He had no desire to add to the damage.

Thankfully, she grabbed ahold of the bed and pulled herself to an upright position on her own.

“Well, I better get going . . .”

She stood in front of him in all her Lady Godiva glory. “How do you keep that firm patootie, young man? Do you do squats? Or do you lift weights at the gym?”

He started to cough. “Excuse me?” Oh, God. Was she coming on to him?

“I’ve enrolled in an art class—sketching nudes. I’d like to sketch your backside.”

“Uh . . . I . . .” He stepped backward. “I’ll need to check with Megan on that.”

“And if she says yes?”

“I’ll let you know.” He managed to stumble into the hall and shut the door behind him. He rushed for Megan’s room, heading straight for the bathroom and turning on the water. He splashed his face over and over in a desperate attempt to wash away the sight of Megan’s grandmother’s full womanhood staring him in the face. He groaned and washed faster.

“Josh?” Megan asked, standing in the doorway, her voice husky with sleep.

He continued to douse his face. “I just saw the most horrifying thing I can even imagine.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“Your grandmother. In a downward dog yoga position. In the nude.”

Megan chuckled. “Oh, dear. Mom had mentioned that Gram was going through a nudist phase, but I didn’t know she’d combined it with yoga.”

He stood upright, water dripping everywhere, and she handed him a towel. He covered his face with it, then pulled it down to look at Megan. He was thankful she was acting normal, as if he hadn’t so abruptly curtailed their night together. He wasn’t sure he could handle her dejection. His hold on his self-control with her was tenuous at best. He would probably do something he’d later regret.

She looked up at him, expecting some kind of response.

He dabbed at his neck with the towel. “She wanted me to do yoga with her in her room.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Did you?”

“No!”

“It could have been interesting,” she teased. “Have you ever tried yoga in the nude?”

He shook his head, trying to suppress the image of her grandmother that popped back into his head. “I’ve seen and heard things that have most likely scarred me for life.”

She leaned her shoulder into the doorjamb, giggling. “Poor baby. What were you doing in Gram’s room before seven in the morning anyway?” She grinned, looking like she was up to trouble. “Did you go sleep with Gram last night?”

Horror rushed through his head. He wouldn’t put it past the woman to attempt to demonstrate some of her Kama Sutra positions. But the biggest problem at the moment was explaining to Megan why he opened her grandmother’s door.

“I was looking for a bathroom.”

Her head jutted back in surprise. “Why? You could have just used this one.”

“You were still asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“All the bathrooms upstairs are attached to bedrooms.”

“Yeah,” he said dryly. “I found that out the hard way. I thought there might be another one.”

“Did you get changed in Gram’s room?” she asked with a smirk, taking in his wet dress shirt and jeans.

“I got dressed in here, but I didn’t want to shave or shower and disturb you.”

She moved toward him and lifted a hand to his chin, running her thumb over the stubble. “Your scruff gives you a rugged look. It will give my mother a fit.” She looked up at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I think you should keep it.”

His breath stuck in his chest at her touch, as he registered how close she stood to him, how warm her finger was against his face. He kept his hands at his sides even though everything in him was screaming to pull her closer and kiss her until she begged him to do more.

“And what about you?” he forced out.

She stilled, her fingertips still splayed on his face. “What about me?” she whispered.

“What do you think of it?”

“I like it.”

She was like a magnet. Not touching her would be like fighting the laws of physics. Impossible. One hand landed on her waist as the other slid across her cheek, digging into her dark, thick hair.

“There you are,” Gram said, her voice coming from behind Megan. “Did you manage to get Megan’s coffee?”

Josh took one look at her and cringed. Oh, God. She was still naked.

Megan broke free of his hold and spun around, gasping. “Gram! Put some clothes on!”

“Why does everyone keep telling me that? I came into this world without a stitch of clothes on, and I plan to leave it the same way.”

Megan chased after her. “Well, you’re not going anywhere today, so get dressed.”

“If I’m not leaving the house, all the more reason to go nude!” Gram insisted. “I tried to go into the Price Chopper grocery store this way, and based on the screaming and panic, you would have thought terrorists were attacking.”

“I wasn’t talking about running errands. What I meant is that you’re not, God forbid, going to be meeting your maker any time soon.”

“Don’t you worry, Megan. Your mother made me promise not to keel over before your wedding. She wouldn’t want anything to ruin her carefully laid plans.”

Josh regained his senses and cautiously followed Megan out of the bathroom. The older woman was now wearing a skimpy robe, and Megan was tying the sash around her waist.

“I’m thinking about relocating to somewhere that appreciates the human form.”

“Is that so?” Megan asked, working on the knot.

“I’m considering Panama or Belize.”

“I’d definitely check out Belize,” Josh said. “The tax laws are more favorable to Americans there.”

Gram looked interested in his suggestion. “Do they have any nudist communes?”

He crossed his arms. “You know, I’ve never checked. How about I look it up today and get back to you?”

Her grandmother beamed. “Maybe you kids would like to go with me.”

Megan glanced over her shoulder at him, giving him a look of mock terror.

“I think we’d just cramp your style, Gram,” Josh said. “I wouldn’t want to be the one to hold you back. You want to do naked yoga with people who will appreciate the beauty of it. As you’ve already noticed, I’m too much of a prude to count myself among them.”

She nodded, deep in thought. “You’re probably right.” She turned to Megan. “Never let this one get away, Megan Nicole Vandemeer. He’s a catch.”

Megan’s smile fell. “I’ll try my best, Gram.”

“But loosen him up a bit first.” She winked and gave them a mischievous grin, then left the room.

Megan shut the door behind her. “You know we’ll probably find her naked in the kitchen later, but she’ll have a devil of a time working that knot loose.” Her words were funny, but her tone was flat and humorless.

Josh wanted to answer, but he couldn’t form a response.

She moved over to her suitcase. “I’m going to take a shower. Do you need to do anything in the bathroom first?”

He studied her back as she grabbed clothes out of the case and stood. “No,” he finally managed to say. She started to walk past him. “Megan, wait.”

She stopped and looked up at him, waiting. But he had no idea what to say. He only knew he couldn’t stand to see her like this. He preferred the fun-loving, playful Megan, and he wasn’t sure how to get her back. Oh, he knew he’d totally screwed things up last night, but how much worse would it have been if he’d slept with her only for her to later find out his true purpose for being here? He knew what his brother would have done . . . and heck, maybe he should have given in to his libido. There was no denying he wanted Megan more than he’d ever wanted any other woman, but his conscience told him he had no right to want anything from her. He was using her. He could wrap it up with pretty explanations of karma and fate, but the truth remained that he was using this woman’s misfortunes for his own gain. He didn’t deserve her.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said.

She offered him a grim smile. “You have nothing to apologize for. If not for you, I’d probably be back in Seattle right now, a disowned outcast. You’re offering me an out when I don’t deserve one. I think I’m getting the better end of the deal here.”

Little did she know. He forced an ornery grin. “Your grandmother wants to draw me in the nude. I told her I had to check with you first. We can call it even if you tell her you’re too jealous to let her do it.”

A smile spread across her face, returning some of her playfulness. “Deal.”

“I need some coffee. I saw a coffee maker in the kitchen. Will your mother have a fit if I make a pot?”

“Probably not, and I’m willing to take the full blame if you bring me a cup.”

“Deal.”

He wandered down to the kitchen, partially worried Megan was right and he’d find Gram making pancakes in her birthday suit. Instead, the only person he saw downstairs was Bart, already dressed for work, pouring a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” Josh forced out. Bart had been nothing but nice to him, and despite Josh’s suspicions, he couldn’t hold a grudge against the man—not yet. He’d decided to withhold judgment until he had more than circumstantial evidence. So the billowing animosity he suddenly felt caught him by surprise. If Megan’s father had protected her from her mother’s expectations and demands, maybe she wouldn’t be in this situation now. Maybe she would have felt safe telling them the truth.

“How’d you sleep?” Bart asked.

“Great,” Josh said, forcing a friendliness he didn’t feel. “Are you about to head out to work?”

“Sure enough. Nicole has an itinerary of things that need to be done today, but my part doesn’t come until this afternoon, when I’m supposed to pick up the food for the big family dinner.”

Josh decided to make his move. “I was fascinated by what I heard about your business last night. Any chance I can go into your office with you today?”

Bart glanced up in surprise. “I’m sure you’d be bored. Investment banking is bound to move at a much quicker pace than the work that’s done at an engineering office.”

“No, I assure you I won’t be bored. I love to learn, and I’d really like to know what Megan’s father does for a living.” He hesitated, guilt prickling his conscience before he added, “I’m marrying your daughter, sir, so I’d welcome the opportunity to get to know you better.”

Bart watched him for a second, then set his cup down on the granite counter, clearing his throat. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that. I’m giving away my baby girl on Saturday, and it’ll be a lot easier if I approve of the man she’s chosen to spend the rest of her life with. I was under the impression you didn’t want to have anything to do with us.”

“There have been a lot of misunderstandings.” The words were hard to get out. He hated himself for betraying this family, but if he was going save his business, he would have to continue following this course. This was what he’d impulsively signed up for. “But I’d love to spend some time with you today, and maybe you can show me around your office and tell me a bit about what an engineer does.”

“Great! Can you be ready to leave in about fifteen minutes?”

“Sure thing. Let me take Megan a cup of coffee first.”

Bart gave him a look Josh couldn’t name. “She’s got you waiting on her, huh?”

If Megan’s father was hinting that she was in any way like her mother, he planned to set the record straight. Megan didn’t deserve that.

“If you’re suggesting she’s calling the shots in our relationship, I think we both know that Megan’s not that kind of woman. I do things for her, and she does things for me.” Like he got her coffee, and she was going to tell her grandmother she couldn’t draw him in the nude, but her father didn’t need to know about that. “She’s a wonderful woman, and I’m damned lucky to have her.” And he knew it was true—any man who had his wits about him would be lucky to have Megan.

Bart looked him in the eye. “Yes, I can see that. I’m sorry if I implied something different.”

Josh nodded and poured two cups of coffee and added creamer to both before going back upstairs. The shower was still running, and he had no idea how long Megan would be, so he cautiously opened the bathroom door, grateful there was a curtain to hide her. He wasn’t sure how much control he’d have if she were naked and as willing and eager as last night.

He set the cup on the counter. “Megan?” he called softly.

She shrieked in surprise. “What are you doing in here?”

“I’m going to work with your dad, and I wanted to tell you in case you’re still in the shower when we leave.”

Her head appeared at the edge of the curtain while she held onto it to keep herself hidden. “You’re doing what?”

“I’m going to work with your dad.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So he can get to know his son-in-law better.”

A cautious look covered her face. “But we’re breaking up today.”

He couldn’t make too big a deal of this or she’d get suspicious. “Yeah, but don’t you think we should do it in front of a crowd? Doesn’t your mom have a family dinner planned for tonight? That would be the perfect time.”

She sucked in her bottom lip, looking lost in thought. “I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be better if you stayed here and broke up with me this morning? Then Mom will have more time to call it all off.”

“Do you honestly think your mother will let me break up with you? She’d be more likely to drug me to get me to comply, and after last night’s performance, maybe handcuff me for good measure. And if your grandmother is around as a witness, she’ll strip me naked and draw me in my drugged state. And I don’t even want to go into what she’ll do with the handcuffs.” He shuddered. “We need witnesses and lots of them.”

She released a huff. “Damn it. You’re right.”

He grinned. “I brought your coffee, but I forgot to ask how you took it. You know, your father pretty much called me pussy-whipped for getting it for you. I gave him a mini-lecture about how you weren’t that kind of woman, so it didn’t seem like the appropriate time to mention this was our first morning together.”

She fought a grin. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was when she beamed like that. It was obvious that her asshat ex had been clueless. “I take creamer.”

His grin spread. “Then it’s your lucky day. I added creamer. Now I better get going. I want to make a good impression on your dad.”

“No!” she exclaimed. “You have to make a bad one! Otherwise, it’ll look like our breakup came out of nowhere.”

“Okay. I’ll try my best to be the biggest asshole possible.”

“Good.”

He continued to watch her, not wanting to leave her yet.

Her grin spread. “Shouldn’t you be going?”

“Yeah.”

She laughed. “Have a good day, dear.”

“Have fun with Knickers.”

She grimaced. “You definitely got the better deal.” Then her face disappeared behind the curtain.

Josh headed downstairs to meet Bart Vandemeer, feeling like he was a prisoner on his way to the gallows. This was exactly what he wanted, so why did it feel so wrong?

Chapter Twelve

When Megan went downstairs, Megan’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and eating a piece of dry toast while looking over several papers. That had been Nicole Westminster Vandemeer’s breakfast for as long as Megan could remember, which was one of the many reasons why she still wore a size two dress. Megan, on the other hand, was a size eight, a huge disappointment to her mother.

She gave Megan a slight glance before returning her attention to the papers. “Megan, we have a very busy day ahead of us. Perhaps you could run upstairs and get ready?”

Megan, who’d been refilling her coffee cup, stopped mid-pour. “I am ready.”

The bridge of her mother’s nose wrinkled as she gave Megan a scrutinizing glance. “Really?”

Megan set the cup down on the counter. “What’s wrong with how I look?”

Her mother’s eyebrows rose, and she released an exasperated sigh. “We need to make a hair appointment for you at the salon. Honestly, I thought you would take care of it in Seattle before you came.” She picked up her phone. “I only hope they can fit you in.”

“I had a haircut three weeks ago.”

Her mother released an exasperated huff as she searched through her contacts without even looking up at Megan. “How about we start with the color? It lacks depth. We’ll want highlights to show off your waves when we put it up for the wedding. And it wouldn’t hurt to ask them to do a dry run for your up-do.”

“I want to wear my hair down,” Megan said. She wondered why she was wasting her time arguing the point when there wasn’t going to be a wedding. Maybe she was just tired of letting her mother railroad everything.

Her mother pursed her lips and tensed her shoulders in irritation. “Megan, we discussed this.”

“No, Mom. You discussed this, or to be more accurate, you dictated it to me and I just went along with it to keep the peace.”

Her mother gasped. “Megan Nicole, what on earth has gotten into you? Why can’t you just be compliant?”

“Maybe I’m tired of being compliant.”

Her mother waved a manicured hand covered in glittering rings. “Don’t be silly, darling. Now run upstairs, change your clothes, and put on some makeup.”

“I am wearing makeup!”

“Obviously not enough. Maybe they like the natural look in that rainy, brooding, mold-encrusted place you live in, but you’re home now and you’re getting married in three days. What will people think, Megan? Honestly. Now stop acting like a petulant child and do as I say. I’ll have your amended itinerary ready for you when you get back downstairs. As it is, I’m reshuffling everything since your father dragged Josh off to his office.”

“Yeah, I saw the itinerary. Don’t you think it’s a bit much?”

“You obviously need it. Now go. And check on your grandmother while you’re up there. She’s coming with us. Yesterday we were almost late picking you up from the airport because she refused to get dressed.”

Megan didn’t even try to hold back the laughter as she walked up the stairs.

“Gram, are you dressed?” she asked, knocking on her grandmother’s door.

“Not because I want to be,” the woman muttered as she opened the door. “I can’t untie this knot with my arthritis.” She motioned to Megan’s robe.

Megan flashed an apologetic grin. “Sorry about that. You freaked Josh out. I had to make sure you wouldn’t accidently flash him again.”

“He’s already seen it all.”

“So he said.”

“You need to loosen that boy up.”

“So you said, but look at it this way, Gram—he’s about to commit himself to me for the rest of his life, and you’re showing him everything he’s giving up.” She gave a half-shrug. “It’s a bitter reminder of the fact that he’s stuck with me.” The statement was for her grandmother’s benefit, but she’d spent plenty of time brooding about whether Josh had rejected her for that very reason. This morning he seemed reluctant to leave her side, which made her re-evaluate her reasoning. Had Josh McMillan left her sexually frustrated because he was a gentleman? She’d been too embarrassed to even entertain the idea the previous night, but now it rang true.

The older woman patted Megan’s cheek. “He’s lucky to have you. And I’m only giving him a glimpse of what he’ll get in about fifty years.”

Megan smiled as she reached for the belt and began to work on the knot. “Mom says you have to get dressed so you can come with us.”

“I’d rather have a colonoscopy.”

“Do it for me, Gram. She’s extended her claws today.”

“When doesn’t she have her claws extended?” But the older woman’s frown softened as she studied Megan’s face. “Fine, I’ll go, but only for you. And it’s my constitutional right to wear whatever I want.”

“The key part of that is wear. You have to wear something.”

Megan’s grandmother looked up at her, her face beaming as if a particularly exciting idea had occurred to her. “Not to worry. I’ll wear something.”

“I’ve seen that look before—” Megan finished untying the belt and flashed the older woman a grin, “—and I approve.”

“Ha! I’ll meet you downstairs in about fifteen minutes.”

Megan had no desire to wait downstairs with her mother, who would only continue to bully her about her outfit, so she went into her bedroom and grabbed the two itineraries on the dresser. She sat down on the freshly made bed and opened each cover, flipping to Thursday and then Friday. Josh had been right. He was scheduled for a mani-pedi tomorrow. Ironically enough, Jay would have appreciated how organized the itinerary was . . . not to mention the spa time. Josh, on the other hand, was obviously as horrified as she was. Not that there was any point in comparing the two. Jay was gone—good riddance—and Josh was going to break up with her tonight. She would probably never see him again.

The thought was like a knife driving straight into her gut.

Her cell phone rang and she jumped, digging it out of her purse and then cursing under her breath. The power was at twenty-six percent. She’d forgotten to charge it. Then she saw who was calling and cursed again.

“Hello, Blair.”

She was silent for a half-second. “I called to apologize. I came on too strong last night.”

Megan couldn’t stifle her gasp.

“Yeah, I know,” Blair grumbled. “It’s as rare as finding a leprechaun under a double rainbow.”

“Actually, rarer.”

“Nevertheless, I’m sorry. I just love you too much to see someone else hurt you. I feel partially responsible for not cold-cocking your ex when I visited you in Seattle last February.”

Megan laughed. “I found out he was cheating on me after your visit. What grounds would you have had to justify that in February?”

“For breathing and taking oxygen away from worthier creatures. Like slugs. Or lice.”

Megan’s chest burned with gratitude and love. “Thanks, Blair. I love you, too.”

“And in that spirit, I need you to grab that imposter’s wallet and make sure he was telling me the truth about his name. Get his driver’s license and read off his address.”

Megan knew she should get mad at Blair for continuing on in the same vein as last night, but her friend’s declaration of love softened her. She rolled her eyes instead.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Megan Vandemeer. We may be on the phone, but I can still see it.”

Megan laughed. “Do you want me to read off his height and weight while I’m at it?”

“Yeah, that will help me figure out if it’s a fake ID.”

“Blair, you’re not really going to check him out, are you?”

“You bet your ass I am. I thought I made that clear last night. I don’t trust this guy.”

“And what exactly do you think he’s up to?”

“I intend to find out.”

“Blair, let it go.”

“No. Now start reading.”

“I can’t. He went to work with my dad.”

“He what?”

“Calm down. What harm could he possibly do there?”

“Is your father working on anything big? Competing for any big jobs?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, Blair. How should I know? I never talk to my father about business. Besides, it’s an engineering firm. You and I spent plenty of time there when we worked for him the summer between our freshman and sophomore years of high school. You know how boring that place is. If anything, Josh deserves a medal for going to work with him.” Then she considered it and glanced at his Thursday schedule. “On second thought, he’s smarter than I’ve given him credit for. He’s gotten out of talking to the photographer and the orchestra director—wait. What? Orchestra?” Megan started flipping through the pages, trying to figure out just how large the orchestra actually was and when it would be playing. There was no way this wedding only cost twenty-five grand. Panic flared up from her gut.

“Oh, my God. You actually like this guy,” Blair said. “I didn’t want to believe it last night, but I can see right through you.”

Megan sucked in her breath, then let it out slowly. “What? Of course I don’t. We were putting on an act.”

“That’s a lie! Your voice rose.” She paused, then softened her tone. “Look, Megs, no one helps a stranger with something this big for nothing. He’s got an agenda. Maybe he wants to get into your pants. You haven’t found out if he’s circumcised yet, have you?”

“No! You know I’m not like that.” Although she would have found out if it had been up to her—something Blair didn’t need to know. Megan flung herself backward onto the bed in frustration, reminding herself that her friend was trying to look out for her. Wouldn’t she be cautious if the roles were reversed? “Look, I’ve been skeptical about his motives, too . . . but there’s just something about him, Blair. Besides, if he wanted to get in my pants, he’s had a couple of opportunities. He slept in my bed with me last night and never once made a move.”

“Maybe so, but I still don’t trust him.”

“Which you’ve made abundantly clear.”

“I’m going to dig up everything I can, address or no address.”

Megan’s back stiffened. “Let it go, Blair. I’m warning you, if you present me with a dossier on him as a wedding gift, I’m never going to speak to you again.”

“Wedding gift? I thought you were breaking up with him!”

“It was a joke. I forgot you lost your sense of humor when you became a divorce attorney.” She took a second to regroup. “Look, we’re breaking up at my mother’s family dinner this evening.” She rolled onto her side and pulled the itinerary out from under her back, then examined the schedule for Thursday night. “Although it looks like it’s for Dad’s side of the family.” Megan read the document again. “It so weird that she would plan a party for them. Knickers can’t stand them.”

“Who knows with her. And don’t try to change the subject. Let me do this, Megan. This is what I do. I’m very good at it.”

“Drop it. It won’t matter tomorrow anyway. Very soon I’ll be on a plane back to Seattle—disowned and disgraced. I’m sure it won’t make the slightest difference to my mother who’s at fault in the breakup.”

“Then why go through this farce?”

“Just like hell has multiple levels, so does disgrace.”

“Well, if Josh McMillan is screwing you over, he’s going to find himself on the lowest one.”

Megan couldn’t hold back a smile. “I love you, too, Blair.”

Blair’s voice softened. “I’m just looking out for you, Megs.”

“And I love you for it. Now go use your animosity and derision against the lying, cheating bastards who are your bread and butter.” Megan hung up, then stared at the phone’s blank screen for a moment. She missed the Blair she remembered from childhood. Blair was still the strongest, fiercest person Megan knew, but she’d acquired a hard edge that could wound even those closest to her.

Megan lay back down and held up her itinerary. Florist 9:00 a.m. Photographer 10:00, Orchestra director 11:00, Lunch at noon, Pick up wedding and bridesmaids’ dresses at 1:30. She was exhausted from just looking at the list. But the fact that her mother was dragging her along made it ten times worse.

Did Libby and Blair know about the one-thirty appointment? Hopefully they’d agree to come. Gram definitely wasn’t enough moral support. Megan needed more people on her team.

She picked up her phone again and called Libby. “Hey, Libs. Did my mom tell you about picking up the bridesmaids’ dresses today?”

“Um . . . yeah. She mentioned it last week.”

“I don’t suppose you planned on showing up?”

“Seeing how you weren’t engaged when she called, no.”

“Do you think you can . . . ?” If either of her friends could take off work, it was usually Libby. As a professional photographer, her schedule was usually more flexible.

Libby groaned. “Lucky for you, I don’t have any appointments today. What time?”

“One thirty. At Sherri’s Bridal.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. “I remember. I’ll be there.”

“You’re the best!”

“I know,” she laughed. “And you owe me.”

Megan stared up at the ceiling. “How come you aren’t asking me why I’m picking up my wedding dress when I’m not even getting married?”

“Maybe you should be asking yourself that question. See you at one thirty, Megs.”

What was Libby suggesting? She’d only just met Josh; her friend couldn’t think she’d actually marry him. The dress was paid for, wedding or not. Hopefully Megan would get married for real someday and she could use it. She loved the dress. Truth be told, wearing it was what she’d been looking forward to most about the wedding.

The knowledge struck her again, sticking to her skin like crazy glue—the whole wedding was already bought and paid for . . . no take-backs. Her parents were out a ton of money. The guilt of lying hung over her, sucking her energy away. Or was it the thought of spending the day with her mother?

As if on cue, her mother called up the stairs. “Megan!”

Megan rolled onto her stomach, releasing a long, low groan into her comforter. Only an act of God would get her through this day without strangling her mother.

Chapter Thirteen

Megan was tired, cranky, and starving. Which was more than pathetic since she’d just left a restaurant after having lunch. Megan’s mother had ordered for her while she was in the restroom. And even though Megan had asked her to order a cheeseburger, she wasn’t all that surprised when the waitress served her a garden salad with fat-free dressing on the side.

Megan’s mouth dropped open, and she sought her mother’s attention, which wasn’t hard since Nicole was watching her like a hawk. “What happened to my cheeseburger?”

“You’re not a teenager anymore, Megan,” her mother said, picking up her fork. “You’ve gotten . . . hippy.”

Gram had been quiet for most of the morning, but her interest perked up. “Megan’s a hippie?” She looked into Megan’s eyes. “Do you smoke the weed?”

Megan couldn’t stop her chuckle. “No Gram, I don’t smoke the weed. And contrary to what Mom thinks, I don’t hug trees even if I do try to save them in the Amazon.” She lifted her eyebrows and dared her mother to press the issue.

Surprisingly, her mother ignored the taunt and picked at her own salad. When the waitress came to take away their empty plates, Megan ordered a slice of cheesecake, but her mother insisted they were running behind schedule and there wouldn’t be time for her to eat it. In a burst of defiance, Megan ordered it to go and told the waitress to put it on a separate bill so her mother couldn’t use the cost against her later.

Now here Megan sat, in the back seat of her mother’s Lincoln, eating her cheesecake with a plastic fork, offering bites to her grandmother who was in the front passenger seat.

“Don’t get any crumbs on that seat, Megan Nicole,” her mother said in a tight voice. “I just had the car detailed two days ago.”

“I’m not five years old, Mom,” Megan said as she took a bite, a tiny piece falling off her fork and onto the seat. Megan glanced up at the rearview mirror to see if her mother had noticed, while brushing away the crumb. Rather than helping, her maneuver smeared the creamy filling across the leather.

Oh, crap.

She dug a tissue out of her purse, trying not to giggle.

She was in brighter spirits when her mother pulled up to the bridal shop. Libby was standing on the sidewalk waiting for them.

Megan gave her a tight hug. “I love you, Libs!”

“You owe me drinks later for putting up with Knickers twice in less than twenty-four hours,” she whispered in Megan’s ear.

“Deal.”

They went into the shop, Gram’s outfit drawing looks from other shoppers at the strip mall as she shuffled to the door. She wore a red sequined vest over a black T-shirt with the words “Momma’s Home Boys” printed in a sparkly red. Her black capris and red flats completed the outfit. When one middle-aged man’s jaw dropped, Gram winked and said, “Give me your number and I’ll set up a naked yoga session with you.”

Megan’s mother hustled her into the bridal shop and immediately took charge, going up to the counter and announcing they had arrived for their one-thirty fitting. The clerk took them to a viewing area and told them to have a seat.

After Megan’s mother got Gram situated in an overstuffed chair, she glanced at Megan and Libby, then at the door. “Where’s Blair?”

Megan suppressed a sigh. “She couldn’t get off work.” She’d known better than to ask.

“What?” her mother screeched.

“She has a very important job, Mother. She’s a big-deal attorney.”

Her mother scowled. “This takes precedence.”

“I’m sure the woman whose cheating husband tried to steal her house out from under her thinks differently.”

Libby sat up straighter. “I’m going to see Blair tonight, so I told her I’d pick up her dress, Mrs. Vandemeer.”

“What if it needs additional alterations?”

Libby waved her hand as though it were a non-issue. “She’ll be fine.”

To Megan, it was obvious Libby’s bright smile was forced, but her mother didn’t seem to notice. “Well, let’s hope so. I’d hate to see Megan’s wedding ruined over an ill-fitting bridesmaid dress.”

Libby started to giggle, but Megan stomped on her foot to shut her up. Of course, she knew what Libby was thinking. The dress was the least of Knickers’ concerns at this point.

The employee emerged from the back, her face beaming. “Your dresses are in the dressing rooms. If you’ll follow me . . .”

Libby went into a room by herself while the employee followed Megan into the larger dressing room.

“Did you bring the proper undergarments?”

Megan opened her purse and pulled out the bag with the strapless bra. Her mother had given it to her before they got to the store, presuming she’d forget one. It annoyed Megan that Knickers was right, even though there was a reason for it—Megan had packed thinking she wouldn’t need one.

Once she had her bra on, the employee handed her a crinoline slip and Megan hooked the side, staring in the mirror in confusion. “I didn’t think my slip was this full.”

“This was the one purchased.”

Megan let it go. She had bought the dress eight months ago; maybe she’d forgotten.

The woman unzipped a bag and told Megan to lift her arms so she could put the dress over her head. “But face the wall first. I want you to turn and look in the mirror, so you can get the full effect.”

Megan did as she was told, surprised that the dress felt much heavier than she remembered. When she turned to face the mirror, she realized why.

“This isn’t my dress.”

The employee’s eyes widened in fear. “I’m sorry, Ms. Vandemeer. I’m afraid it is.”

What did that mean? “No. It most certainly is not.” Megan’s voice was firm as she took in the ball-gown-style dress covered in silk fabric roses and half a million crystals. It looked like fairies had puked all over it.

“Let me try to get this zipped up, and I’ll check on it.” The woman sounded panicked as she fought the zipper. “If you could take a deep breath.”

Megan took a deep breath as the woman continued to struggle behind her. “I look just like Cinderella gone wrong.” Then it hit her. Surely, her mother didn’t . . . “What size is this dress?”

“A six.”

Megan picked up the skirt in her hands, ready for war. “Open the door.”

The woman held it open, looking like she wanted to crawl under a chair as Megan stormed out into the viewing area.

“Oh!” her mother squealed when Megan emerged. “The dress is gorgeous!”

Gram, who’d leaned her head back in the chair, let out a soft snore.

Libby stood on the small stage, her eyes alight with horror, although Megan wasn’t sure which dress had induced that reaction. Her friend was wearing a pale pink ball gown with a full crinoline skirt.

“What are these?” Megan asked, dropping the skirt with one hand and waving between Libby and herself.

Her mother looked surprised by her question. “Your dresses.”

“But these aren’t the dresses we ordered!”

Gram jerked awake. “What did I miss?”

Her mother shook her head in confusion. “I told you I decided to have a princess theme.”

“You said that was for the decorations!”

“I presumed you realized it meant your dress as well.” She narrowed her eyes. “Turn around. Why isn’t your dress zipped all the way?”

“Maybe because you ordered a size smaller than I actually wear!”

Her mother looked exasperated. “Most brides diet before their weddings, Megan!”

“Well, I’m not getting married!” Megan shouted.

As if on a puppeteer’s orders, their mouths dropped open in shock.

“What?” her mother asked.

Libby rushed toward Megan and hugged her arm. “She meant she’s not getting married in this dress.”

But Megan was done. The dress was the last straw. “No, Mom. That’s not it at all.”

Libby tugged on Megan’s arm and pulled her toward the dressing rooms.

Megan resisted. “No, it’s time to tell her the truth.”

A cell phone rang, and Megan’s mother rolled her eyes and reached into her purse. “I don’t have time for hysterics. Libby, try to talk some sense into her while I take this call from the caterer.” She stood and walked out the front door.

“Megan, I really need to talk to you,” Libby said in a low, insistent voice.

Gram, who had been taking in the whole scene like it was prime-time reality-TV drama, watched them intently but didn’t say a word.

Libby tugged again and Megan let her drag her into a large fitting room at the back of the store, where there were a couple of chairs and a full-length, three-paned mirror.

“What are you doing?” Libby whisper-shouted.

“I’m doing what I should have done in the first place. It’s time to tell her the truth.”

Libby stood in front of her, blocking her path. “Stop, Megan. Think this through.”

“That’s exactly what I should have done yesterday afternoon when I woke up with a fake fiancé.” Megan leaned into Libby’s face. “I can’t believe I’m in the middle of this!”

“I know. I know,” Libby said, rubbing her arm in a soothing gesture.

Megan sank into a chair, her massive skirt flopping up in her face. “She canceled my dress, Libby. My beautiful dress.”

Libby sat in the chair next to her, shoving Megan’s massive crinoline pile out of the way. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“That’s the only thing I wanted out of this wedding. This thing’s about to swallow me whole and suffocate me.”

“Megan, I shouldn’t have to say this, but that’s a pretty sad statement—your dress being the only thing you wanted, I mean, not the fact that this new dress is suffocating you. Although, that’s pretty bad in and of itself.” Libby shook her head, her rich, dark waves rustling against her taffeta bodice. “You shouldn’t have agreed to marry what’s-his-name if you weren’t excited about it.”

She closed her eyes. “I know.”

“What were you thinking anyway? He was a total jerkwad.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“That’s a lie, and we both know it.”

Megan leaned her head back against the top of the seat. “It doesn’t matter anyway. What do I do now?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I suppose I should tell Mom what’s really going on.” She sat up again. “She might actually kill me. If so, you can have my granddad’s old cameras.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “Including the old Brownie?”

“Yep. That one, too.”

Libby seemed to think about her answer before responding—perhaps trying to decide whether letting Knickers kill Megan was worth the vintage camera—but when she finally answered, she sounded more cheerful. “Honestly, Megs, at this point what does it matter if you tell her now or if you wait for Josh to break up with you tonight?”

Megan looked at her friend, her face blurry through her tears. “Because it’s dishonest.”

Libby took Megan’s hands in hers. “And Knickers was dishonest when she changed our dresses. Can you imagine if you were actually getting married and we had to wear these things?”

Megan shook her head and laughed wryly. “No. I can’t.”

“So we just accept what she did with the dresses, and I’ll tell Knickers you’re coming with me. We’ll get a drink to help you prepare for tonight. It’s your big Vandemeer family reunion, right?”

“Yeah,” Megan said in surprise. “How did you know?”

“Knickers FedExed the itineraries to Blair and me.”

“Of course she did.” Megan smiled in spite of herself.

“Follow the path of least resistance. Let Josh break up with you later. You’ll be the victim instead of the party pooper.”

“Party pooper?” Megan cocked her head. “Really?”

“This wedding is a twenty-five-thousand-dollar party, isn’t it?”

Megan groaned. “Don’t remind me. In fact, she’s added so many embellishments since last fall, it’s probably double that by now.”

When she and Libby reemerged in the viewing room, Megan’s mother had returned and was grumbling something about chicken.

“Is it free-range chicken?” Gram asked.

Megan’s mother scrunched her nose in confusion. “I don’t know.”

“I saw a special report on one of those news shows the other day, and now I’ll only eat free-range chicken. They pump those other birds full of hormones. I’ve been eating a lot of chicken lately, and I woke up with a hot flash the other night.”

“That explains something about Gram’s libido,” Libby said under her breath.

“Mom—” Megan’s mother clenched her jaw, “—for the tenth time, it wasn’t a hot flash. Someone accidently turned the air conditioner off.”

“Well, I’m still only eating free-range birds. Are they free-range?”

Megan’s mother waved her hand. “Yes, it’s free-range chicken. They’re arriving from Wyoming tomorrow, then checking into their hotel rooms later.”

Megan about fell over. Her mother made a joke!

Gram smiled. After spending all day with the older woman, Megan knew her game. Gram wasn’t senile—not even a bit. She was egging Knickers on.

They got back to the task at hand. Libby’s dress fit, so she disappeared to remove it while Megan’s mother tried to convince the alterations person to finish altering the dress before the next morning. At first the store employee claimed it wouldn’t be possible, but Nicole got her way the same way she usually did—by bullying everyone around her. Finally, the girl promised that the dress would be ready by noon the next day.

Guilt flooded through Megan as she watched the exchange. She didn’t feel too bad about inconveniencing her mother, but the employee was obviously going to have to put in some overtime to accommodate her mother’s demands. She started to say something, but Libby put her hand on Megan’s arm, stopping her. With lips pursed together, she slowly shook her head.

Remarkably, Knickers didn’t protest when Megan announced she was leaving with Libby. “I had hoped to get your hair done today, but they can’t fit you in until tomorrow. So go have some fun.”

Megan gaped at her for a moment, then took off before her mother changed her mind. Gram gave the two younger women a longing look as they headed to Libby’s car.

“Just remember to be home by five, Megan,” her mother called after her.

Megan felt amazingly free and lighthearted as Libby drove away in her Volkswagen convertible. But instead of going out for a drink, Megan suggested they go shopping. She hadn’t planned to attend any wedding festivities, so she’d brought the bare minimum in terms of dress clothes.

A few hours later, Libby pulled into the driveway and stared at the house. “Do you think Josh is back?”

Megan gave her a look of surprise. “I guess not. Dad’s car isn’t in the driveway.” She’d been thinking about him all day, though she wasn’t about to admit she was disappointed he wasn’t back yet. If he was breaking up with her tonight, they only had a few more hours together. She couldn’t bear to think about it.

“Do you think Knickers would have a fit if I come in and hang out for a while?”

“I think she’ll get over it,” Megan said cautiously. “Why?”

“Do I have to have a reason? I miss you. I haven’t seen you since last fall . . . and before that it had been two years.”

“Sorry. Of course you can come in. Blair’s just made me paranoid, I guess.”

“Unlike Blair, I approve of Mr. Sexy-in-a-Pair-of-Jeans.”

Megan saw the curtain in the living room window shift. “I don’t think we can get away with sitting in your car until Josh shows up, which means we better go in.” Megan reached for the door handle. “I’m sure Mom’s got something for me to do.”

They walked through the front door and stopped in their tracks. Sitting on the sofa was a very good-looking stranger. He smiled as they came inside and gave Libby a once-over. Typical. Gram sat next to him, giving him a goofy grin.

Oh, Lord. Gram was smitten.

But then, Megan could see why. He had thick dark brown hair and dark eyes that sparkled with the promise of trouble. Who was this guy?

“Megan.” Her mother was settled in the armchair next to the sofa. “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour.”

Megan glanced down at her purse, then back at her mother. “Oh. I think my phone died.” She gave the man a second look and scrunched her nose as she tried to place him. There was something vaguely familiar about him. Maybe his eyes? He couldn’t be a cousin, could he?

“Why didn’t you tell me Josh’s brother was coming after all?” her mother asked, her voice thick with irritation. She hated surprises.

But Megan was more surprised than any of them.

“What?” Megan took a step back and bumped into Libby’s chest.

The man stood and took a step toward her, offering his hand. “I’m Josh’s brother, Noah. It’s great to finally meet you, Megan. He’s told me so much about you.”

She took his hand, still in shock. But as she studied his face, she saw the resemblance. This man was related to Josh, all right. But how had he gotten here? And why?

He dropped Megan’s hand, and Libby offered hers. “Hi, I’m Libby. Megan’s friend.”

His mouth spread into an appreciative grin, and he held her hand longer than necessary. “My brother most certainly hasn’t told me about Megan’s friend Libby.”

Megan’s head cleared enough for her to try and figure out what was going on. She cast a glance at her clueless mother. “Josh didn’t mention you had changed your mind about coming.” Her eyes bored into his, but he simply smiled, completely unintimidated. Damn, he was good.

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

“And it’s a good thing,” Megan’s mother said. “Josh’s side of the church is going to be abysmally bare.”

Noah shot Libby an ornery grin. “My job is to fill up one whole side of the church and have a little fun.”

Libby graced him with one of her sexiest smiles.

Someone was going to have to take a hose to the two of them, but she needed to deal with the bigger emergency first.

“We’ll have to figure out a way to include Noah in the wedding, of course.” Megan’s mother glared at her. “Really, Megan. A little advance notice would have been nice.”

Megan held her hands out at her sides. “I didn’t know he was coming. I didn’t even know he knew where Josh was!”

Her mother looked taken back. “What do you mean he didn’t know where Josh was? Why wouldn’t he?”

Noah sidled up next to her and slung an arm around her shoulders. “That’s cute, sis.”

Her eyes flew open. “Sis?”

“Once you and Joshy are married . . .” His words trailed off. Then he turned to her mother. “What Megster meant was that I didn’t know he’d be with Bart at the office. Isn’t that right, Megster?”

She gritted her teeth. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Knickers tsked. “I hope we can get you a tux with this short notice. I better call the rental store.” She stood and moved to the kitchen. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Megan’s eyes narrowed, and she was about to let loose a string of questions peppered liberally with expletives when she remembered her grandmother still on the sofa, hanging on to their every word.

“You look shocked,” Noah teased. “I hope you don’t mind me coming to my brother’s wedding.” He glanced over his shoulder at Gram and winked.

“I like this one,” Gram said, nodding her head. “Since you get Josh, I want to keep him.”

“He’s not staying, Gram,” Megan said with a sigh.

Megan’s mother emerged from the kitchen with the phone in her hand. “Of course Noah is staying at the house. Where would you have him go, Megan?”

That wasn’t what Megan meant, but now that her mother brought it up, the idea horrified her. He couldn’t stay in their house. In fact, she couldn’t think of one good reason for him to be here at all.

“Is Josh expecting you?” Megan forced out, trying to hide her panic.

Noah gave a nonchalant shrug and a cocky grin. “Nah, I thought I’d surprise him. I suspect he’ll be beside himself.” He turned to Megan’s mother. “With happiness, of course. I told him I couldn’t come, but hey—he’s my little brother. I can’t let him get married without me standing there beside him.”

So he was one of those guys—the kind who thought he could show his mega-watt grin and every human with double X chromosomes would fall at his feet. Megan had met plenty of guys like Noah, and she wasn’t impressed. But that wasn’t the real issue . . .

What was his endgame? Was he here to embarrass Josh?

Libby, on the other hand, appeared to fall for his schlocky charm. “And what a lovely surprise it is.” She shot Megan a side glance that told her Libby planned to use her own methods of persuasion to get answers, which filled Megan with relief.

“I like surprises,” Gram chimed in.

Since Libby was playing the role of her bowled-over-by-a-sexy-smile friend, it was the three of them against Megan. Was she the only sane one left? Then she remembered that she was the only one in the room who was pretending to be engaged to a stranger.

They were all doomed.

“Do we know when Dad will be home with Josh?” Megan asked.

“He said he would be home by five. There’s some big to-do at the office about some silly patent—” her mother waved her hand, “—or some such nonsense. But I made him promise to be home in time to set up for the dinner.”

“That’s exciting.” Noah’s smile widened—as if that were even possible. “A patent, you say?”

“I told Bart there wasn’t time for him to fool around and get excited over a tiny piece of metal. His daughter’s getting married.”

Noah nodded. “Priorities. Family takes precedence over everything and everyone, don’t you think?”

Nicole’s eyes softened. “Yes, I know exactly what you mean, even if . . .” She forced a smile. “I’m so glad you came, Noah.”

“I am, too, Mrs. Vandemeer,” he said, matching her serious tone. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“What’s the theme tonight, Mrs. Vandemeer?” Libby asked, trying to keep a straight face.

A scowl almost wrinkled Nicole’s Botoxed forehead. “It’s Hillbilly. Red-and-white checkered tablecloths. Banjos. You know.”

Noah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and amusement.

Megan groaned. “Mom, Dad’s family is from Springfield, Missouri. That hardly makes them hillbillies.”

Her mother looked unswayed.

“Does that mean I should have brought my overalls?” Noah asked, grinning. “I’ve never been to a hoedown before.”

Megan could barely tolerate her mother disrespecting her father’s family; she definitely wasn’t going to take it from the strange man who had just barged into her parents’ house without an invitation. “Do you actually have a pair?” Megan countered, pinning him with a scrutinizing gaze. “You don’t exactly look like the type of guy who would willingly get dirty enough to need a pair of overalls.”

“Megan!” her mother reprimanded. “What has gotten into you?”

Megan bit back a retort. “Nothing.” She squinted at Noah. “I just really need to talk to Josh.”

And he was going to get quite an earful indeed.

Chapter Fourteen

Josh knew he was in deep shit. In more ways than he could count.

For one thing, he’d spent the entire day pretending not to know anything about engineering at Bart Vandemeer’s firm—a feat given that it was the field to which he’d devoted his entire adult life—and he was walking away with bupkis. Sure, everyone in the firm was excited over the recently granted patent—his patent—but whenever he asked questions about it, they treated him like a kindergartner who couldn’t possibly understand anything beyond 1+1=2. Josh would have found it insulting even if he were an investment banker. Noah might have been able to sneak around or seduce the info out of the cute twenty-something receptionist or some other 007 scheme, but Josh was out of his league. He’d wasted the day.

And to top it off, Noah had texted Josh to tell him that Megan was pissed about finding him on her mother’s sofa. Noah knew how pivotal it was for Josh to remain in Bart Vandemeer’s good graces. It was their best and only chance to get the information they needed to save their relationship with their investor. Thankfully, Noah had stuck to the plan, telling her that Josh had no idea he was coming, but apparently he hadn’t gotten the chance to pull her aside and tell her why he was there. When Josh got no response to the three texts he sent asking Noah what he’d planned to tell her, he knew he was on his own. But she had to wonder why Noah would show up unannounced on her doorstep. What possible explanation could there be that wasn’t incredibly sketchy?

He had a lot of smoothing over to do.

The patent celebration had caused them to leave the office late, and Bart still needed to pick up the food for the family dinner. Using his brother’s arrival as an excuse, Josh talked Bart into dropping him off at the house before making his restaurant run.

Josh watched Bart drive off, wondering if he should have stuck to the plan and arrived later. Then he wouldn’t need to face Megan yet. But avoiding conflict had never been Josh’s style. He met it head on. That’s why this whole situation was so atypical for him. But then, he’d never had so much to lose. The thought momentarily floored him. Losing his business or losing Megan—which bothered him the most?

Before he could reason it out, the front door swung open and Knickers greeted him in the doorway. “Josh! I’m so thrilled your brother could join us.”

At least someone was happy about it. “Yes! I was shocked when he texted to say he was not only here in Kansas City, but at your house. I hope he hasn’t been an imposition.”

“Of course not. He’s your brother. You should have family here.”

He walked through Megan’s parents’ front door, preparing himself to face Megan’s wrath, but she wasn’t in the living room, and he didn’t see her in the kitchen either. Noah, on the other hand, was sitting at the island drinking what looked like lemonade while talking to Megan’s grandmother, who—thank God—was fully clothed.

Gram glanced up at Josh and shot him a grin. “You’re off the hook, Josh. Noah has agreed to pose as my nude model.”

Megan’s mother walked through the back door, rolling her eyes. “No one’s posing nude.”

Noah winked at Gram and gave her a knowing nod.

“How was your day, Josh?” Nicole asked, giving him a sweet smile. Josh was sure that wasn’t an adjective normally associated with Mrs. Vandemeer, but he planned to use her temporary approval to his advantage.

“It was great, but I’m eager to see Megan.”

“She’s upstairs with Libby, getting ready for the dinner.”

“I’ll run up and check on her.”

Noah shot him a glance that conveyed good luck.

Josh bounded up the stairs, but his steps slowed as he neared the top. He’d spent most of the day frustrated by his lack of progress, and the only thing getting him through his utter failure was the knowledge that he’d see Megan at the end of the day. Granted, they were supposed to break up tonight, but maybe he could talk her out of it. The fact that she seemed to like him improved his chances. Of course, the wedding was in less than forty-eight hours, so any kind of breakup would have to happen soon, but he’d felt pretty confident he could convince her to wait until tomorrow. But now he was nervous. Any points he’d gained, he’d lost now that his brother had made an uninvited entrance.

Damn it. Why hadn’t he thought this through?

The thought of her kicking him out the door made him more upset than he cared to admit. He was in a very awkward situation, with no discernable plan, but he knew one thing: every time he thought about seeing Megan, he felt happiness blooming in his chest—a sense of peace and fulfillment he hadn’t experienced since his father’s death.

What in the hell was he going to do?

First things first—he had to deal with this crisis. He knocked on the door and called out softly, “Megan?”

The door cracked and Libby’s face filled the opening. She grimaced at the sight of him.

“That bad?” he whispered.

“Worse.” She swung the door open wider and stepped out of the way. “She’s in the bathroom, but she’s decent.”

“Okay.” He started toward it, but Libby grabbed his arm.

“She likes you, Josh. Fight for her.”

Libby’s trust in him added to his guilt, but he needed her as an ally. Which meant pretending his only motive was to make a relationship work with Megan. “Thanks, Libby.”

“I’m going downstairs to talk to your brother.”

“He’s busy flirting with Megan’s grandmother.”

She laughed as she slipped into the hallway. “Then maybe we can share him.”

“Libby.” He followed her into the hall, closing the door behind him. “Regarding my brother . . .” He didn’t want to ring any alarm bells, but he genuinely liked Libby and didn’t want to see her get hurt. Noah always left behind a string of broken hearts; it was his MO. “Let’s just say he’s here for the wedding, and then he’ll be gone.”

She stopped and turned around to face him, her face softening. “You’re something else, Josh, you know that?”

He froze, unsure of what she meant.

Her face lit up with amusement. “You’re really sweet to be worried about me, but I’m a big girl, and I’ve fooled around with my share of guys like your brother. If I decide I’m interested, I know what I’m getting into.” Then her eyes turned serious. “But Megan’s different than Blair and me. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and a lot of people take advantage of it.” She stepped closer, an unfamiliar look filling her eyes. “I’d rather not go there, but let’s just say if Blair’s right and you’re really here to hurt her, you’ll find out that Blair isn’t the only one with claws.”

He resisted the urge to swallow, which he was sure would make him look guilty. Instead, he spread his hands wide and gave her a gentle smile, lifting his eyebrows to assert his sincerity. “Libby, I will do everything in my power to help her.”

Not a lie, but not the complete truth either.

She studied him for a second. Then that strange glint in her eyes disappeared and her soft smile returned. “Yeah, I think you will.”

He reached for the doorknob and let himself back into the bedroom. After closing the door behind him, he studied the bathroom door, struggling with what to say.

The bathroom door opened and Megan stood in the opening, wearing a white sleeveless dress dotted with tiny pink and blue flowers, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. Even if he’d had a perfectly planned-out speech, it wouldn’t have helped him. He was struck dumb by the sight of her natural beauty. She wasn’t made up with lots of makeup and fancy clothes, although he had no doubt that she’d be beautiful that way, too. She was the kind of woman who was beautiful no matter what she was wearing. And in that moment, he knew he was struck with a strange certainty: he might actually want to marry this woman someday.

Where the hell had that come from?

But more importantly, what the hell did he do with that, with the knowledge that he had less than forty-eight hours with her? Because fake fiancé aside, once she knew the details of his little business problem, they would be done. And for him to give up his quest was impossible. What he was doing went beyond him personally. His employees were counting on him.

He would have to make the most of the time he had with her. If they survived this part, anyway.

Irritation was written across her face, and he braced himself. He needed to stop drooling over her and put out this fire.

She pointed to the door, anger darkening her eyes. “I don’t know who is down there in my mother’s kitchen, but you have some explaining to do.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Just give me a chance.”

She crossed her arms and glared at him. “Is he even your brother?”

“Yes, that’s Noah, my brother who Blair talked to last night.”

“What is he doing here?”

Josh sighed and motioned to the bed. “Can we sit down while I explain it?”

She glanced at the bed, seemingly unsure, wrapping her arms tighter around her torso.

He sat tentatively on the edge. “I didn’t ask him to come.”

“Then why is he here?”

“He knew I was coming to Kansas City . . .” Dammit. He got to his feet and began pacing. Why had he been stupid enough to believe that Noah, who’d gotten him into this situation in the first place, could help? “He’s worried about me.”

She pointed her finger at him. “That’s a bullshit answer!”

“Megan, I’m sorry! I didn’t ask him to come.” When she didn’t interrupt him, he continued. “He knew I was coming to Kansas City, and when we spoke last night, he asked me where I was staying.”

“And you told him?”

He ran a hand through his hair. Shit. This whole trip had been one ill-thought-out decision after another, which was the exact opposite of the precedent that Josh liked to set for himself. No wonder he was floundering. “He didn’t want me to come to Kansas City this weekend. Like I said, he was worried about me.”

“Let’s go back to the part where you told him you were here!”

Josh sat back down and leaned his elbows on his knees. He looked up at her, pleading. “I told him that I was helping you. He wanted to know how exactly I was helping you—”

“I bet he did,” she said sarcastically.

“—so I told him you were in a desperate situation.”

“You told him that you were posing as my fiancé?”

He nodded, unable to look her in the eye. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Didn’t he want to know why you were helping me?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

He took a deep breath, then looked up at her. He needed to tell her the truth. Or at least the part of it that directly impacted her. “Look, I wasn’t lying when I said I never meant for this to happen. Your mother heard me say I was your fiancé. I wasn’t myself . . . you saw me on the plane when I boarded. So when your mother assumed I was Jay, she swept me along in her cloud of . . . Knickers-ness . . . Well, the next thing I knew, I was still carrying you and we had wandered to baggage claim. How could I correct her at that point? I was in dire straits with my business, and like I told you, I’d decided to hand it all to fate, so I figured if I did a good deed, the cosmos would do one for me in return. Stupid, I know.”

She turned to the side, and he could feel that he was losing her. “Megan, this isn’t coming out right.” He groaned in frustration, then stood and moved in front of her. “When I decided to go through with this, I admit I did it for selfish reasons, but then I got to know you.” He slowly lifted his hands and placed them gently on her upper arms. “As stupid as this sounds, I like you. Like really like you. I’ve never fallen for someone this quickly, and while it kind of freaks me out, I’m not ready to end this yet. At least not like this.”

She looked up at him, still defensive. “You’re doing all of this because you like me?” She took a step back, her arms dropping to her sides. “That’s not a reason.”

He stopped in front of her, lifting a hand to the side of her face. “It’s the oldest reason under the sun.”

Her body relaxed and she pressed her cheek into his palm.

Encouraged, he lowered his head, his lips hovering over hers. His tongue ran along her lower lip, and her breath was hot on his face. “Boy meets girl. Boy likes girl. Boy does anything he can to impress girl.”

She lifted her face and pressed her lips to his.

He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her against his chest. Before he even registered what he was doing, his tongue parted her lips and plunged into her mouth as she opened to him, so lush and soft and . . . Her hands lifted to his head and she held him firmly against her mouth, bringing their kiss deeper. Wanting to be even closer, he tangled one hand in her soft thick hair.

It took him a couple of seconds to realize someone was knocking on the door. He dragged his mouth from hers, lifting his head as he tried to gather his senses.

“Megan,” her mother called out as she knocked again. “We need you downstairs.”

She groaned and closed her eyes. “I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t dawdle like you usually do.”

His hand was still in her hair, holding her inches from his face. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, her gaze dreamy. “What is this, Josh?”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “What? You’ve never made out before?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I thought I was demonstrating the lengths to which I’d go to impress you.”

“Or distract me.”

“Megan.” His hold loosened, but he still held her close, unwilling to let go of her just yet. “My brother is here to check up on me—and probably you, just like how Blair threatened to determine if I’m circumcised or not.” He shot her another grin. When she didn’t stop him, he pushed on. “He’s my big brother. He’s worried.”

“He looks like the type of guy who’s only worried about himself.”

Ordinarily, he’d applaud her accurate character assessment, but not tonight. “He might appear that way, but deep down, Noah cares about me.” Or at least, Josh liked to believe he did.

“We need to break up tonight,” she whispered.

“But I don’t want to break up with you tonight.” His mouth lowered to hers again. “I want to do the exact opposite of breaking up with you tonight.”

She leaned back but stopped short of pulling out of his arms. “We are the bride and groom in a very real wedding that is taking place in two days, Josh. We have to break up . . . and very publicly, at that.”

She was right. He knew it. As much as he hated to admit it. But not tonight. “Let’s just play it by ear.”

“We have to do this tonight, Josh. It’s going to be a nightmare to cancel everything now. If we wait until tomorrow . . .”

“You’re right.” He dropped his arms. “But it has to be natural. And let me take the lead. I’ll act like a jerk, so when we break up, no one will ever question why the wedding got called off. You have to come off smelling like a rose.” He almost felt guilty deceiving her, but he took solace in the fact that even if his spying job was done, he still wouldn’t want to break up with her. “No matter what, do not yell at me. Be the reasonable one.”

She studied his shirt for several seconds before nodding. Then she looked up into his face. “And then what?”

What did she want to hear? That they could go back to Seattle together and date? Was that really possible given that her family knew him as Jay instead of Josh McMillan? They weren’t likely to approve of the pairing if they found out that he’d strung them along, particularly given how much money they were throwing down for this whole wedding. That wasn’t even factoring in the whole patent mess.

“Then we’ll take it one minute at a time.”

Chapter Fifteen

Several hours later, Megan was furious with him, and not without cause. For one thing, Noah had been glued to Libby all night, which frankly had both of them concerned. Noah never hooked up with a girl without a purpose other than sex, but he wasn’t flirting like mad with her either. What could possibly be his goal this time? He wasn’t going to get any information about the patent from Libby. The most he could hope for was to get intel on Megan. And what would he want with information about her?

But the main reason for her mood was because he was being a very attentive boyfriend—getting her food and drinks, joining in conversations, making sure she was comfortable. Megan’s family loved him. Most women wouldn’t find fault in that—in fact, they’d revel in it—but Josh was supposed to be paving the way to their breakup. And after Josh’s behavior over the last couple of hours, the only person at the family dinner expecting that outcome was Megan.

Josh had spent most of the day dreading tonight’s dinner, but it was exactly the opposite of what he’d expected. Josh genuinely enjoyed hanging out with Bart Vandemeer’s huge family. They were down to earth and fun, the complete opposite of Nicole Vandemeer and her friends. It made Josh wonder why Bart had chosen to marry her.

The first hour was so fun he’d completely forgotten he was supposed to be laying the groundwork for the breakup he planned to initiate. But even after realizing his mistake, he was in too good of a mood to play the part, even just enough to appease Megan, which had been his original plan.

He was having a conversation with her Uncle Jeremy about the best fishing places at Table Rock Lake when Megan wrapped her hand around his lower forearm, her nails digging into his flesh.

“Can I talk to you?” She tried to keep her tone sweet, but he heard the annoyed hitch in her voice.

“Uncle Jeremy was inviting me to come fishing with him this fall,” he said with a smile, ignoring the pain in his arm.

“Yeah, I heard, but I need help with the . . . thing.”

“What thing?” her uncle asked.

Her eyes widened in panic; she obviously hadn’t expected her ploy to be questioned.

A slow smile spread across Josh’s face. “I’ve been summoned.” He gave her uncle a wink. “Never tell a beautiful woman no when she wants to get you alone. Am I right?”

Her uncle chuckled. “Smart man you’ve got there, Megan.”

“I’m beginning to wonder,” she grumbled as he stood and took her hand in his.

He leaned close to her ear and whispered loud enough for her uncle to hear, “Just where did you have in mind?”

She jerked on his hand. He stumbled slightly but contained his amusement. God, was she cute when she was pissed. But he kept his thoughts to himself and followed her through the kitchen and down the stairs to the basement.

Why hadn’t he thought to check the basement rather than his botched attempt to find her father’s home office? After all, what better place to stow things best left forgotten?

But he didn’t have time to look around once they reached the bottom of the stairs. “Your bedroom probably has a better atmosphere for a romantic rendezvous than your parents’ musty basement.”

“I did not bring you down here to make out!”

“From the look on your face, you brought me down here to murder me. But I caution you to think it through. It would be difficult to hide my body, and I think Libby’s too busy with Noah to help.”

“Why is your brother flirting with my best friend?”

“She’s a beautiful woman, Megan.” He put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer. “But not nearly as beautiful as you.”

“Cut the bullshit, Josh.”

“I really do think you’re beautiful—” his voice lost its teasing tone, “—and I don’t know why Noah is so taken with Libby, but she seems like a smart girl. She can handle herself.”

She jerked up her head to look him in the eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means my brother is not a one-woman kind of guy, but when Libby made it obvious she was interested in him, I mentioned that fact to her. She told me not to worry. She knew what he was.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “When did you talk to Libby about your brother?”

“After I came home this evening and went upstairs to find you. Libby was in your room. You were in the bathroom.”

“Hmm.”

He was still holding her close, resisting the urge to kiss her. Although he suspected it would distract her from the next topic she was sure to bring up, he didn’t want to play her that way.

“What are you doing, Josh?”

“I’m standing in your basement, waiting to see if you’re going to murder me or not.” He made a show of spinning his head to take it in. “I’m surprised it’s unfinished. And that your mother didn’t ask your father to set up his man cave down here rather than upstairs.”

“You can’t change the subject. Why aren’t you trying to break up with me like we discussed?”

“You haven’t given me much opportunity.”

She pulled out of his grasp. “We’ve been out there for two hours!”

“Really?” he asked in what he hoped was believable surprise. “I guess I was too busy having a good time. I like your dad’s family.”

She shook her head, as though trying to clear her confusion. “I like my dad’s family, too, but you have to stick to the plan.”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, spreading his hands. “I’ve never purposely acted like an asshole before.” She snorted and he gave her a look of surprise. “Are you suggesting I’m a natural asshole?”

“No . . . I don’t know.” She scowled. “But we have to do something, Josh. We have to end this tonight. This is getting bad.”

“I know. You’re right. How about I start drinking a lot? Then I can act like a sloppy drunk, giving you a good reason to break up with me.”

She pursed her lips, deep in thought, before nodding and looking up at him. “Yeah. That’s good. If you just start acting like a jerk now, my family will wonder why you’re like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

“Okay, so I’ll start getting drunk. Let’s get to it.” He took her hand, surprised when she didn’t protest, and led her up the stairs. When they were in the kitchen, he stopped and dropped his hold on her. “But first I need to visit the restroom before I go back outside.” He patted his stomach. “That pulled pork isn’t quite agreeing with me.”

The look she gave him said she didn’t quite trust him, but the request was too reasonable for her to deny.

“You don’t have to wait for me. In fact, it might be safer for me to go upstairs.” He grimaced.

She released a nervous laugh. “Don’t let Dad hear you say that. He loves Gate’s barbeque. He’d call that blasphemy.”

“From all the dogs barking outside your fence, I’d say they like it, too.” The sound seemed almost appropriate given the laid-back vibe of the evening, but he knew it had to be driving Nicole crazy.

A sly grin spread across her face. “Those are the Murphys’ dogs. Mom is furious they got loose. In fact, she called animal control, but apparently they haven’t shown up yet.”

“You really do take a perverse pleasure at your mother’s aggravation.”

She laughed. “I guess that makes me wicked.”

He liked the thought of her doing wicked things, but not the kind she currently had in mind.

“You go on back outside,” Josh said, heading for the stairs. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m fit to be seen in public.” He bounded up the stairs two at a time in his attempt to get away from her. He wasn’t so sure how convincing his gastrointestinal issue was, but he had to talk to Noah. And maybe he could find Bart’s home office while he was upstairs.

He opened the first room on his right, finding what appeared to be Kevin’s room. Eliminating Megan’s and her grandmother’s rooms, that left one possibility. He pushed open the door, relieved to find a desk with a desktop computer and a credenza and printer. Pulling out his phone, he texted his brother. I found Vandemeer’s home office.

Seconds later Noah responded. I found it first. I’m sleeping there, Sherlock. Josh could practically hear his sarcasm.

Sure enough, there was a bag on the loveseat on the wall opposite the desk. Have you checked it yet?

Not thoroughly, but I have all night. As long as you don’t screw this up now.

Josh released a heavy breath. She wants me to break up with her tonight.

Obviously you can’t. Figure something out.

Figure something out. Sure, no problem.

He went back downstairs and grabbed a bottle of beer from the cooler by the back door, taking a long drag from it before he searched for Megan. She was standing with a group of her cousins and aunts. She looked nervous, and he hated the knowledge that he was to blame, but he couldn’t give her what she wanted. Not yet. Now that Noah was here, they could get what they needed to save the business, and he’d break up with her tomorrow night at the rehearsal dinner. He could pretend to get drunk tomorrow night, then put the moves on Blair. He almost choked on his beer at the very thought of it, but it was a good plan. Blair would raise holy hell, and no one would condone Megan marrying him then.

But he couldn’t tell Megan his new plan. He’d drink a lot tonight to pave the way to the big finale tomorrow and figure out a way to appease her in the meantime.

His other problem—how to appease his own hurting heart once she found out what he was about—was entirely his own cross to bear.

He took another draw off the bottle, trying to chase the feeling away. How could he already be so attached to Megan? He hardly knew her, but he knew enough not to want to let her go. He finished off the beer and grabbed another. Fuel for the performance.

Megan turned and saw him, her face momentarily lighting up . . . then fading. He lifted his bottle in salute to show her he was on task.

He walked toward her, and a black cat shot out from a bush, darting across his path. He stumbled to keep from tripping on it, and he was sure it made him look drunk, although anyone who had been paying attention would realize it was far from true. He couldn’t face Megan at the moment, so he made his way over to Noah, who was sitting at a small table with Libby. They were deep in conversation and laughing when he sat down across from them.

“What’s got you so low?” Noah asked, leaning back in his seat. “You looked like you were having a great night until your fiancée dragged you away. You should be wearing a shit-eating grin right about now.”

Josh glared at his brother and took another long drag of his beer.

“Have you thought of a way to keep from breaking up with her?” Noah asked.

Lowering the bottle, Josh cast a glance toward Libby.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “He knows I’m helping you.”

He couldn’t contain his look of surprise. What had Noah confessed to?

Noah gave him a conspiratorial grin. “I’m all in, bro. I’ll get you to the altar.”

“What?” Josh asked.

Noah shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for true love.”

Libby snorted. “Liar. You wouldn’t know true love if it bit you in the ass.”

Josh was relieved that Noah still hadn’t fooled her. Many a woman had claimed to go into a relationship with Noah with eyes wide open only to find herself with a broken heart.

Noah shrugged and held out his hands. “Okay, you caught me. I don’t believe in love. I think what people call love is all about hormones and loneliness.” He leaned his elbow on the table and waved to his brother as he gave his attention to Libby. “Take Joshua here. He’s been so focused on his job that he’s barely dated in the last two years.”

Josh groaned. “I’ve dated. I just don’t share all the details.” He took a drink, then shot his brother a piercing glare. “Unlike someone I know.”

Noah chuckled and turned his attention to the pretty brunette sitting next to him. “Like I said. Josh is lonely and he comes to Kansas City in his self-imposed exile, during which he stumbles upon a pretty girl on a plane. Said pretty girl is desperate for rescue, and he instantly falls for her.”

“Shh!” Josh’s eyes flew open in alarm. “Keep it down.”

Noah’s grin widened as he looked around. “Cool your jets. No one heard.”

Josh’s chest tightened with anger. He was in this situation because of Noah. And now he was treating Megan’s life like it was some sort of game. He was going to fuck her over for his own purposes without thinking twice about it.

No. Josh was fucking her over, and he could only imagine how hurt she was going to be when she found out. He had hoped that he could get out of this without her ever finding out. But it seemed pretty unlikely, especially now that Noah was involved. Noah was good for one thing—destroying everything good in Josh’s life.

Why had he let him come?

Maybe he should break up with Megan tonight after all, put this farce to rest. Give up on the company. Give up on a real chance with her.

Josh finished off the beer and set the bottle on the table. He started to get up. “I need another.”

Noah slapped Josh’s shoulder and pushed him back down. “Cheer up there, young lad,” he said in a fake British accent. “I’ll get you another pint of ale, and all will be well.” He stood and the barking dogs against the fence amped up their racket. The black cat Josh had seen earlier was now calmly stalking across the top of the fence.

“Knickers looks like she’s about to come unglued,” Libby laughed.

Sure enough, Nicole looked furious. She stomped over to her husband, nearly tripping over a cup on the deck, which only infuriated her more. “Bart!” she shouted. “Do something!”

Bart, who had been sitting with his brother on the deck, got to his feet. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make them stop!”

As he passed Bart, Noah pointed to the cat, which was still on the fence, hissing with its back arched. Then Noah grabbed three beers out of the cooler.

Libby watched Noah with more interest than Josh liked. All the more reason to seriously consider changing his tactic. “Megan has insisted I break up with her tonight.”

Libby swung her gaze to him, her eyebrows arched. “You’re not considering it, are you?”

He sighed. “I don’t know, maybe.”

She leaned toward him, desperation in her eyes. “You can’t.”

He rested his palm on the table, the two beers he’d drunk within the past five minutes making him feel melancholy rather than buzzed. “She’s right, Libby. I’m putting her in an awkward situation. The longer I wait to do this, the harder it will be to cancel everything.”

Libby leaned in closer, her face inches from his. “The only person who’s going to be negatively affected by canceling the wedding is Knickers. The money’s gone whether there’s a wedding or not. Don’t let that stop you from going after Megan.”

“But it’s all a lie, Libby.”

Her jaw set and determination filled her eyes. “Do you like her?”

“What?”

“It’s a simple question. Do you like her?”

“You know I do.”

“Then whatever you do, don’t break up with her tonight. Wait.”

“How long do I wait? Until we’re at the altar and the minister says, ‘Do you, Jay’—what’s the fucker’s last name again?” The fuzziness in his head held the bastard’s name out of reach.

“Connors.”

“Jay Connors.” The name rolled off Josh’s tongue with a sneer. “So the minister says, ‘Do you, Jay Connors, take Megan Vandemeer to be your lawfully wedded wife?’ And I say . . . ‘Well, about that . . . did I mention that I’m just her substitute fiancé?’”

She sat back, glancing over at her friend. “It doesn’t have to go that far. Just make her realize how much she likes you. Make her admit that she wants this to work.”

“She likes me, but what if I can’t get her to admit that she does? That I’m worth fighting for?” He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I’m seriously considering giving up everything to try to make this work. What if she doesn’t feel the same? She’s in this situation to keep her mother from blowing her gasket. There’s no way we can tell Knickers the truth and come out unscathed.”

She didn’t respond.

In the end, it didn’t matter how Megan felt, not really. His original goal was honorable—saving his employees—but it wasn’t worth toying with Megan’s life. Maybe he could cash in his barely existent IRA and use it to make a comp package for the employees who’d have the most trouble finding new jobs.

It wasn’t the solution he wanted, but he could live with it. If he had to give it all up, though, he wanted to at least enjoy one more day with Megan—twenty-four hours—before he came clean. “Tomorrow night.” Saying it out loud helped cement the rightness of his decision. “I’m doing this tomorrow night.”

Noah returned and set a bottle of beer in front of him. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Breaking up with Megan.”

Noah looked slightly panicked. “Whoa, slow down there, lover boy. What if we haven’t accomplished our mission?”

Libby turned a skeptical eye on him. “What mission?”

An oh shit look crossed Noah’s face, and Josh groaned. He should have known Noah would screw it up.

Noah rolled his eyes. “Making Megan fall in love with Josh. What the hell else would I be talking about?”

But the seeds of doubt had been planted in Libby’s head, and she turned her discerning eye on Josh.

Josh picked up his bottle. “Trust me, no one’s more surprised by this turn of events than I am.”

“So we agree no breaking up tonight, right?” Libby asked.

“I may not have a choice,” Josh said, glumly.

Noah was about to protest when Nicole, who was now standing by the edge of the deck, began screaming. “What have you done?”

Three big dogs burst through the back gate, racing for the food table. Everyone started shouting as the dogs jumped onto the deck, snarling over the pans of pork, brisket, baked beans, and coleslaw.

“What are they doing?” Nicole screamed. “Somebody stop them!”

But everyone either ran screaming or watched in silent horror as the dogs knocked over the table. The pans of food fell to the concrete, and the two candles rolled off, one of them setting the tablecloth on fire.

The black cat ran past the spilled food and burning tablecloth, hissing and screeching. One of the dogs looked up, a string of brisket hanging from its mouth, and took off running after the scared cat, which found its exit to the back yard blocked by the bar Kevin had set up the night before. The cat skidded around the corner, the dog gaining on it, while the two other dogs dragged the pans of food away from the now-raging fire.

“Fire!” Nicole shouted. “Bart! Do something!”

Bart ran toward the fire, grabbed a plastic cup off the table, then knelt by the pool and started scooping up some water and tossing it toward the fire.

The cat continued its race around the pool with the dog closing the distance. The fifty-pound lab crashed into one of Megan’s younger cousins, a girl who looked like she was around six years old. The girl fell sideways into the pool, creating a huge splash that drenched the people nearby.

One of the drenched women began screaming, while Megan—who was with them—watched the melee in horror. The little girl surfaced but began flailing in the deep end of the pool.

“I don’t think that little girl can swim,” Josh said to Libby, his voice panicked.

“Oh, God,” Libby shouted. “I think you’re right.” The black cat continued to circle the pool, the dog in hot pursuit. In its haste, the dog knocked over a small table, sending the cups and candle that had been on top skittering across the concrete.

The fire from the tablecloth spread to the nearby table.

“You’ve ruined everything!” Nicole yelled at Bart, who continued to douse the flames with scoops of water.

The back door flung open, bouncing off the house with a loud bang. Gram stood in the doorway, her feet spread apart, holding a fire extinguisher and wearing nothing but her birthday suit. “Did someone say fire?”

The girl was still in the pool, but now she was under water.

Josh kicked off his shoes and dove in, finding the girl close to the bottom of the ten-foot-deep pool. He grabbed her waist with one arm and swam for the top. When they broke through the surface, the girl gasped for air and started crying. She flailed and kicked as Josh swam to the edge of the pool, dragging her with him.

Noah was kneeling at the edge, reaching toward them. “I’ll take her.”

Josh swam over to him, and Noah grabbed her arms, lifting her out. As he set her on her feet, the little girl leaned over Noah’s arm.

Crying out in surprise, he dropped his hold on her. “She bit me!”

Josh clung to the side of the pool, heart racing.

The other two dogs, having devoured the food, joined in the cat chase.

“Take care of those animals!” Nicole shouted over the confusion.

“What do you want me to do?” Bart shouted, still throwing water onto the now raging fire.

Gram stopped in front of the burning food table and fumbled with the fire extinguisher. One of Bart’s brothers moved toward her, trying to keep his gaze averted as he blindly reached for the extinguisher. “Maude, hand it to me and let me do it.”

“I’ve got it,” she said, exasperated.

Megan’s uncle moved closer, still not looking while he held his open hand out—a tactic that accidentally led to him grabbing Gram’s butt. The man shouted in horror, but a wide grin spread across Gram’s face. “I think I just got goosed.”

“For God’s sake, Mother!” Megan’s mother shouted. “Put some clothes on!”

But Gram pulled a pin and tossed it on the ground, then shot foam onto the fire. Once the fire was out, she kept spraying, covering two of the dogs running past. They skidded to a halt, then turned the other way, barreling into Nicole and shoving her into the pool in the shallower end. She went under and came back up, mascara streaming down her face, looking more unkempt than Josh had ever seen her.

“Somebody get those dogs!”

A man in a khaki uniform stood in the open gate, his mouth hanging open as he took in the destruction of the backyard. “Did someone call animal control?”

Nicole climbed up the steps at the entrance to the pool, though part of her hair stayed floating in the water behind her.

“Josh.” Megan knelt next to him. “Are you okay?”

He looked up at her. “I think your mother just lost something.”

She grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve suspected for years that she wore a headpiece. This disaster was worth the proof.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“The ladder’s over there. We better get out of here while we can,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, swimming to the ladder on the other side. She picked up his shoes and walked around the edge of the pool, meeting him as he climbed out.

“I mean, Knickers is about to go ballistic, and we need to be as far away from ground zero as possible. Trust me. I know this from firsthand experience.”

“I thought she was already there.”

“You’re cute.” She grabbed his hand, her fingers curling around his. “Let’s run upstairs and get you changed first.”

“What about Noah?” he asked, looking for his brother.

“I think Libby has him covered.”

She swung wide of her mother, who was giving the animal control officer an earful. They snuck in the back door and headed for the stairs, leaving a trail of water from Josh’s dripping clothes. “We have to hurry and leave before she notices we’re gone, or we’ll be stuck.”

“Okay.” She pushed him into the room and shut the door, standing back as he rummaged in his bag and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He went into the bathroom to change.

“We don’t have a car,” he said through the door, unbuttoning his top button and tugging his wet shirt over his head. “How are we going to leave?”

“My dad kept my old Explorer. I’m going to sneak down to the kitchen. Come downstairs to meet me when you’re done. But whatever you do, don’t let Knickers see you.”

“Okay.” His jeans stuck to his skin, and he struggled to get them off. His cell phone was in his pocket, and he tried to turn it on, not surprised to find it dead. He considered leaving his soaking-wet wallet but worried someone would find it and discover his real identity. He kept it in his hand as he crept down the stairs, making sure Megan’s mother was nowhere to be seen.

Megan stood in the open doorway to the garage, motioning him to follow her. She skirted around the two cars and out a side door, Josh close on her heels. A dark blue Ford Explorer was parked on the gravel next to the house.

“This was your car? Why didn’t I notice it before?” Josh asked.

“It was a hand-me-down from my dad. When you’re sixteen, you’ll take whatever you can get.” She pointed to a tarp next to the house, shooting him a grin. “Mom won’t let it in the garage, and Dad can’t stand the thought of leaving it to the elements. He keeps it covered.” She opened the driver’s door. “Get in.”

He climbed into the passenger seat, setting his damp wallet on the console. “How are you going to get out? There are cars parked in the driveway.”

She grinned, the Cheshire cat grin that told him she was up to no good. “Desperate times, Josh. Desperate times.” Shoving the car into reverse, she put her hand on the back of his seat and looked over her shoulder. “Knickers is going to have a fit over her lawn.” She backed up, driving through the grass, then angled the Explorer over the bottom half of the driveway and into the street.

Josh shook his head. “Good job.” He laughed as he looked back at the yard. “And you’re right. Your mother is going to have a fit over those tire ruts as soon as she finishes having a fit about the backyard.”

“All the more reason to never come back.” She rolled her window down and turned up the radio, driving through town and out into the farmland surrounding Blue Springs. Her hair blew around her face, and she looked almost as peaceful as she did when sleeping.

“Do you have a destination in mind?”

She leaned her head toward him, grinning. “Yes, and you’ll love it.”

He leaned back in his seat, watching her. “I trust you.”

Her face turned serious. “Thank you.”

She made several turns, and then she was on a back road, driving by a small lake. He almost asked her where they were going, but he’d told her he trusted her. He could ask her about it after they got there.

She drove for several more minutes, then turned down a gravel road and parked. “This is it.”

He opened the door and realized they were at an empty campsite. The crickets and cicadas filled the night with their loud calls, and while it wasn’t too hot, the temperature felt several degrees cooler here.

She got out and went to the back of the car, lifting the hatch. “My dad used to take Kevin and me camping here when we were kids. Knickers didn’t go, of course.”

“Are we camping?” he asked, in surprise.

“I don’t know yet,” she answered, handing him a small cooler, then grabbing a stack of blankets. “Let’s decide that as we go.”

For once, Josh was happy to not have a plan.

Chapter Sixteen

Megan had driven here out of instinct. This was where she used to come when things got to be too much with her mother back in high school, which had happened a lot. While she hadn’t been here in years, it still felt familiar and safe. It felt even more right that Josh was here with her, which was surprising. She’d never taken anyone to her special spot before.

“Let’s go down this path.” She turned on the mini-flashlight attached to the car key.

“That’s handy,” Josh said.

“My dad. He was a bit overprotective when I was in high school.”

“Smart dad. He’s not going to come hunt us down like a couple of kids gone parking, is he?”

She laughed quietly. “No. He has no idea I used to come here on my own. We’re safe. Besides, I think he has his hands full.” She followed the dirt path, turning left onto another less used path, which ended in a small clearing. “This is it.”

He gasped from behind her and set the cooler down on the grass. “This is amazing.”

“Thanks.” She beamed with pride. They stood on top of a small bluff overlooking the lake. A wooded shoreline was on the opposite side of the small lake, with no visible electric lights. But the real showstopper was the view of the sky. With few lights around the lake, the stars shone brighter than she usually saw them.

She handed him a blanket and two pillows. “Hold this for a minute,” she said as she spread out a sleeping bag and then a sheet.

“You came prepared,” he murmured, his husky voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“I used to like to lie out here and look at the stars.” She grabbed the pillows from him and tossed them onto the makeshift bed.

She knew how it looked, like she had purposely brought him out here to seduce him. And maybe that was partially true. What would he think of that? For once, she didn’t care.

“I like stars.”

She sat in the middle of the bedding and patted the spot next to her. “Bring the cooler with you.”

He picked it up and watched her with a wary face before sitting next to her and setting the cooler at the edge of the sleeping bag. “What’s in here?”

“Open it and see.”

Josh opened the lid and laughed. “I already had three of these before the disaster from hell. I’m not sure if I should have another.”

“Suit yourself.” She leaned forward, resting her stomach across his thigh, and pulled a bottle out. She sat up and re-crossed her legs. The skirt of her dress had hitched up her thighs, and Josh’s gaze followed the hem. She almost rearranged the fabric, and then decided the hell with it. She was tired of playing it safe. She wanted to live a little.

Holding the bottle toward him, she asked, “Will you open this for me?”

He stared at the bottle as though undecided, then took it from her and twisted off the cap.

“You like beer?” he asked, sounding uncomfortable.

“Love it. Blair and Libby are more wine drinkers, but give me an IPA from Black Raven Brewery in Seattle any day of the week.”

He grinned. “You’re kidding.”

“That I like beer?” she asked in surprise as she took the bottle from him.

“No. That you like Black Raven Brewery. It’s one of my favorite places.”

She took a sip and leaned back on her elbows, her head above the pillow. “Who knows? We may have been there at the same time and never realized it.”

His gaze had returned to her legs before reaching into the cooler for a bottle, twisting off the cap and taking a long drink.

“You grew up in Seattle?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Never thought about moving away?”

“No. My father’s business is there.”

She took another drink, scrutinizing him as she asked her next question. “Your father’s entrepreneurial business?”

His shoulders tightened, and he took another drink. For a man who’d declined a beer, he was downing it pretty fast.

“Are you and Noah close?”

His gaze rose to her face, and he seemed to hesitate before saying, “Not particularly.”

“But he came out here to find you anyway.”

He seemed to think over his response. “He was worried.”

“About you or something else?”

He looked startled, and she laughed before taking another drink. She closed her eyes and let the cool liquid run down her throat. She hadn’t had a drink all evening, not wanting to lose more control over the situation than she already had. And with her stomach a ball of nerves, she’d hardly eaten either, so the beer was quickly going to her head. While part of her was screaming for her to remain on guard, the rest of her said screw it. She knew that Josh had some ulterior motive for helping her. But she knew he liked her, too, and in this moment, it was all that mattered.

“Relax,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I don’t care.”

“Why wouldn’t you care?”

She turned her face toward him, her eyes searching his. “Because I trust you . . . after a fashion.”

“How do you know I’m worthy of your trust?”

She sat up and set the bottle in the grass next to the sleeping bag. Then she leaned toward him, her face hovering inches from his. “Because I can see your heart, Josh McMillan. You wouldn’t intentionally hurt me.”

He shook his head, pain in his eyes, confirming her suspicions. “How can you be so sure?”

Her fingertips rested on his cheek as she searched his eyes. “Will you intentionally hurt me?”

“Not if I can help it,” he whispered. “That’s the last thing I want.”

“I know.” Her lips brushed his softly and he remained still, not even breathing.

“Megan,” he finally whispered, sounding like he was in discomfort.

She leaned back and stared into his eyes. “I’ve coasted through most of my life, Josh, letting other people direct my path, but I’m tired of coasting. I want to take charge. I want to do what makes me happy.” She smiled at him. “I want you.”

His eyes clouded.

“Do you want me, Josh?”

“It’s not that easy, Megan.”

She laughed softly. “It’s a simple yes or no question, no reasoning or rationale allowed, at least not tonight.” Her hand cupped his neck, and her thumb brushed his cheek. “Do you want me?”

His answer was to press his lips on hers and entwine one hand in her hair as he used the other to press her to his chest. They were a tangle of tongues and limbs as he pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist.

She clung to him as he took control, the hand around her back sliding down to cup her ass and press her against his erection. Heat engulfed her body, and she groaned and gyrated against him, her hands sliding under his shirt. Her fingertips skimmed up his hard chest muscles.

He leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it behind him. When he tried to kiss her again, she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back. “I want to look at you.”

He was more perfect in the moonlight than she remembered him from the night before. She slid her hands down to his perfectly sculpted abdomen, dipping lower to the waistband of his jeans. Using the palm of her hand, she rubbed his bulge through his jeans, feeling empowered when he squirmed.

He groaned, searching her eyes. “I thought that was my line.”

Then she dropped her hands to her sides. “Go ahead.”

He sat up and reached behind her back, his lips brushing the nape of her neck, his tongue dancing in tantalizing circles along her sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure through her body. He unzipped her dress, exposing her skin to the cooler night air. She shivered and he chuckled as his teeth lightly nipped along her collarbone. His face lifted and he searched her eyes as his hands slid slowly up her back, his thumbs hooking on the neckline of her dress, then sliding the fabric down her arms.

She sat still as he pulled her arms free, the cotton dress puddling at her waist. His gaze lowered to her pale blue lace bra, but his hands dropped to her sides instead of cupping her breasts like she wanted. She sucked in a breath. The old insecurities came rushing back. Had he changed his mind? Did he find her lacking?

But his gaze lifted to hers, and the lust she saw there displaced her concerns. He pulled off her bra as his mouth found hers again, warm and desperate.

Her hands wound into his hair, holding him close as his hand moved to her breast, his thumb brushing over her nipple.

She sucked in a breath as a jolt of need shot straight to her core.

He continued to kiss her, his tongue exploring her mouth as his other hand slipped between her legs, his fingers rubbing against her damp panties. She pressed herself into his hand, moaning softly, and as if following her unspoken instructions, his fingers moved up, sliding down under her lingerie and between her folds.

She closed her eyes, her breath coming in rapid pants as his finger slipped inside her, the palm of his hand pressing against her mound as he rubbed her in slow circles. She couldn’t believe how turned on she was already. She wanted more than his hand. She rose to her knees, reaching under her skirt to pull her panties off.

He wrapped an arm around her back, pressing kisses to her abdomen, then lowered her to his lap again and found her nipple with his mouth.

She arched her back as his free hand returned between her legs. “Josh,” she said, hoping the sound of his name would convey to him everything she felt and needed. She needed him.

He pushed her back up to her knees as he fumbled with his pants, tugging them off, then lowering her to straddle his upper thighs.

His hand cupped her cheek, and he searched her face before kissing her again.

Not willing to wait any longer, she reached for him, wrapping her hand around the length of him and stroking. He released a low moan and pressed into her hand. His moan and his need turned her on even more. He wanted her. Her thumb traced his tip and he tensed, sucking in his breath. His fingers slid between her legs again, bringing her close to release.

Her sense of urgency increased as he pushed her backward, her head hitting the pillow as he moved between her legs, kneeling over her.

“Dammit.” He froze and squeezed his eyes shut with frustration. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I do.” She reached inside the pillowcase under her head and pulled out a foil square.

He snagged it from her hand and ripped it open faster than she would have thought possible, then rolled the condom over his stiff erection.

She gazed up at him, reaching for him. Needing him now.

He lowered himself to one elbow and lifted her hip with his free hand, teasing her with his hardness before finally entering her, filling her perfectly.

Crying out, she lifted her hips higher, helping him slide deeper. His mouth covered hers as their movements became more urgent. As their passion built, his mouth broke free, his breath hot on her neck as he held her tighter, thrusting deeper. Faster.

She wrapped her legs around his back as she climbed higher, pressing herself against him with every thrust, until she finally climaxed, crying out in a gasp as her orgasm washed over her.

He held her tighter and gave two final deep thrusts before coming. She grabbed his hips, holding him close for a moment until he rolled to his side, gathering her in his arms so they were chest to chest, him still inside her.

She looked up into his face, and he smiled at her in wonderment and happiness. “Where have you been all my life, Megan Vandemeer?”

“Apparently right around the corner.”

Chapter Seventeen

He lay on his back with Megan on top of him, his arms wrapped around her back. Her head was nestled in the crook of his arm and her hand was on his chest, her fingertips circling lightly over his sternum. They were naked on a bluff overlooking a lake. Although it was nighttime, someone could still stumble upon them, but he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. Now that they’d actually done this, now that he knew with certainty how perfect they really were for each other, he wished they could just leave this whole mess behind and run away somewhere together, somewhere that no one knew them or their problems.

She released a contented sigh. “I want to forget about the wedding that’s supposed to take place in less than two days and just be in this moment.”

His arm tightened around her.

“The only thing in my life that makes sense right now is you,” she continued.

“How do I make sense?”

“That’s just it, I don’t know. I only know this feels more right than anything else. Ever.” She lifted her head and grinned. “Who falls this hard for a guy within twenty-four hours of meeting him?”

“Lots of people fall in love at first sight. My parents did.”

She blinked in surprise. “Your parents fell in love at first sight?”

He grabbed a strand of her hair that brushed over his bare chest. “So they claim. And they were happily married for twenty-one years.”

“Well, this isn’t love at first sight,” she grinned against his lips. “More like lust.” She kissed him with a passion that showed him how much she still wanted him.

Was she right? Was what he was feeling no more than lust? Did he have to put a label on it? He only knew the rapidly approaching wedding spelled a likely end for their new relationship . . . and the extracurricular sleuthing he and Noah were doing amped that “likely” up to a “certainly.”

He was more determined than ever to come clean in the hopes she would forgive him, not that he deserved it. But even Libby had told him Megan wore her heart on her sleeve. Maybe she would understand his desperation. Well, he wasn’t sure how to fix the mess he’d created, but he didn’t need a solution right this minute. While the likelihood of losing her was higher than not, he had a choice to make: he could start mourning his impending loss of her now, or he could spend every minute with her while he could.

He chose the latter.

He rolled her onto her back, and she giggled as he lowered his face to her neck. “So what are your plans, Ms. Vandemeer? Are we going back to your parents’ house?”

“Oh, God, no.”

“So we’re camping under the stars?”

“Unless you have a better idea.”

“I can’t think of a single one.” He pushed up on his elbow. “But we either need to get dressed or cover up with your blanket. Unless you’re a nudist like your gram.”

She laughed. “I’m not, but getting dressed is a waste of time, don’t you think?” The sparkle in her eyes made it impossible not to kiss her.

“See?” she said. “You just proved my point. Besides, this spot can only be accessed from the campsite, and no one’s going to try camping here now that my car’s parked there.”

He grabbed the blanket and spread it across them, glancing back at the trail they’d used to get to the clearing.

“I think we’re safe, Josh,” she teased. “You’re awfully uptight. Maybe Gram’s right. Maybe you are a prude.”

“You realize that sounds like a challenge . . . ?”

She laughed. “Take it as you will. Still, we’re safe from prying eyes. Unless we count the monstrous raccoons.” She cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t happen to have any food in your pockets, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Then we’re good.”

She rolled on her side to face him. “So tell me more about your family. Is it anything like mine?”

“No offense, Megan, but I don’t think there’s any family like yours.”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

“Why do you let her get to you so much?” Her smile faded, and he was instantly sorry he asked, but he was curious to know. “On the plane you took on that flight attendant without a second thought. Your job is to fight corporations bent on deforestation. Hell, you’ll take on a wild raccoon—” his voice softened, “—but you won’t stand up to your mother.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s such a contradiction to the woman I’ve gotten to know . . . the woman the rest of the world sees. I just don’t get it.”

She worried her bottom lip with her upper teeth, then looked into his eyes. “It’s not that easy to answer, Josh.”

“Then try.”

She took a deep breath and pushed it out, looking sadder by the millisecond.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, running his hand down her arm. “It’s none of my business.”

A wry smile twisted her mouth. “That’s not exactly true, is it? My inability to stand up to my mother has gotten you into this strange situation.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss her. “I kind of like where I am right now.”

She pushed him onto his back and leaned her breasts against his bare chest. He felt himself stirring again—the sight of her bare curves driving him crazy.

“I kind of like where I am right now, too.” She brushed her lips against his. “The funny thing is that she was different when I was a kid. She laughed and had fun. She was a regular mom for the most part. But then when I was in middle school, she changed. Like a light switch from off to on. She became obsessed with everything being perfect.” She forced a tight smile. “But nothing’s perfect, you know?”

Watching her now, he considered arguing with her statement. She looked as near to perfect as he could imagine. “Perfection is difficult to reach and impossible to maintain.”

“Exactly. Which is why she constantly found me lacking. I didn’t suit her new view of perfection. At first I was too stunned to argue, so I said nothing. All of us did, really. Kevin and I were stunned that our mother was gone and this Stepford wife had taken her place. Kevin got involved in sports. My dad took up camping and fishing, and for a while I was the one to deal with her on a regular basis. But I didn’t. I retreated. Then after a while, I guess I learned that it’s always been easier not to fight her. No one ever goes against her and wins. Ever. She’s beaten us down enough times that we’ve just stopped trying. I moved to Seattle to get away from her. I’ve never seen my dad more crushed than the day I told him I was moving away. I think he instinctively knew I wouldn’t be back much.”

“But what about Libby and Blair?”

“Collateral damage.”

Josh’s mother had always been supportive and loving. How would he handle it if she flipped a switch like Nicole Vandemeer had done? What had happened to turn her against her family?

“No more talk about my mother.” Her hand slipped into his hair, and her face hovered over his, her eyes bright and large. “You were a hero tonight.”

“What?”

“You probably think no one noticed in all the madness, but I did. You saved my cousin. She was drowning and you jumped in and saved her.”

He shook his head, cringing. “It wasn’t anything. Anyone could have done it.”

“But you did.”

“I suspect Noah wishes I’d left her at the bottom of the pool after the way she bit him.”

Megan tilted her head back and laughed, and Josh decided the sound of her laugh was the happiest sound that had ever existed. “Nevertheless, you saved her. You saved me, too. I’m surprised you don’t have a superhero costume on under your clothes.”

“I did,” he teased. “But spandex shrinks in water, so I had to hang it over the shower rod in your bathroom. I hope no one comes in and learns my secret.”

She laughed again, straddling his waist and leaning over him, her hair tumbling over her shoulders. “If we ever go back, will you try it on for me?”

“If we go back?”

Her smile softened. “We could run away together—just you and me—and never look back.”

Her thoughts so echoed his own that he couldn’t help but smile. “Do we end up in Seattle when we reach the end of our trip, or do we stay on some tropical island somewhere?”

“It depends. Does this island include Gram’s nudist colony?”

“God, no.”

“Hmm . . . Just how good are you at making coconut drinks?” Her eyebrows lifted playfully as she asked the question. When he started to answer, she kissed him to stop his answer. “It’s a trick question, so think carefully first.” Then she laughed again, sitting up.

He sat up, too, grabbing her hips and settling her on his thighs. The nearness of her drove him crazy and made his thoughts stray from their conversation. “I’m going to guess that you hate coconut, so I should probably answer that I make killer margaritas.”

She laughed again. “I knew you were smart.”

“The question of my intelligence is yet to be decided, but I think agreeing to be your substitute fiancé was the best idea I’ve ever had.”

“I don’t remember asking,” she teased.

“I have lots of things to offer that you might not have even considered.”

Her eyes flew open in mock surprise. “You’re full of talk, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “I’ll be happy to demonstrate.”

The amusement on her face faded. She grabbed his face in her hands and gave him a deep, lazy kiss that reached down to his soul, stirring a longing of which he’d never believed himself capable.

He wrapped an arm around her, his hand splaying on her back as he held her close. “I think I could spend the rest of my life with you and never get my fill.”

She kissed him again, this time with more urgency. In only a few minutes, he was inside her again, keeping her on his lap this time. The blanket was down by his feet, leaving her clothed in nothing but moonlight and sweat. Her hands dug into his shoulders and her eyes closed in pleasure as she arched her back, trying to push him deeper with each movement. Several strands of hair clung to her shoulders, but the rest hung behind her. He held her hips as she rode him with increasing urgency, and in that perfect moment he was sure of two things. One, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known, and two, there was no way he could walk away from her. And since he saw no way to be honest with her, to work out the tangled web he’d spent the past day weaving, he was in deep, deep trouble. His only hope was for a miracle.

But no matter what, she was his for tonight and he wasn’t going to waste a single minute.

Chapter Eighteen

Megan awoke in Josh’s arms. She expected to be more startled by that fact, but lying next to him felt like the most natural thing in the world. He was on his back, an arm stretched over his eyes to block out the sun.

She watched his chest rise and fall. He had a very nice chest—hard muscles covered with just a little hair but not too much. The edge of the blanket rested above his waist, and she saw a hint of his abdomen. She knew what lay under the blanket, and memories of the night before rushed back, making her burn, but not with embarrassment. Not for one minute did she regret sleeping with him. What happened next was a whole lot trickier. She liked him. A lot. She lusted for him. A lot. She wanted him like she’d never wanted anyone. He made her laugh and made her feel lighthearted, and part of her cringed when she let herself look toward tomorrow.

Would they have a tomorrow? After Josh broke up with her and her family sent him back to Seattle. Back to her adopted hometown. She was smart enough to realize that Josh was a forever kind of guy. But they’d gone along with this deception for so long—how could she step back and say, “Sorry everyone, this was all one big mistake”?

* * *

“Hey,” Josh murmured sleepily, cracking his eyes open. “I know you’re probably into those Twilight books and movies, but it’s actually kind of creepy for someone to watch another person sleep all night.”

“You think I spent the night watching you sleep?” She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her mouth finding his earlobe.

“Did we even have much of a chance to sleep?” he asked, rolling onto his side to face her.

“Not much.”

He laughed. “Good thing you’re on the pill, or we would’ve had to make a midnight run for more condoms.” His eyes blinked open sleepily, and a smile spread across his face. “Good morning.”

She smiled back. “Yes, it is.”

“You’re not one of those happy morning people, are you?” he murmured. “Because if you are, I may have to end this fake engagement right now.”

“Let me guess, you don’t function until after a cup of coffee?”

“Actually, it’s two cups. And yes. Coffee is the elixir of the gods.”

Her brown eyes danced in amusement. “Are you calling yourself a god now?”

“You were a participant in last night’s activities, so you tell me.”

She laughed and settled her face into his chest. An ache filled his heart as he held her close, stroking her hair. He had to figure a way out of this. Could they just come clean and tell her family the truth, making it into a funny story? One thing was for sure: Her mother would never forgive them. Megan’s mother’s opinion was important to her, no matter what she claimed. And that wasn’t even taking into account the problem of Bart Vandemeer’s business.

What a screwed-up mess.

“How about I take you out for breakfast?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” she asked, her voice muffled.

He leaned back, tipping her chin up to look at him. “Megan Vandemeer, would you do me the honor of letting me escort you to the International House of Pancakes?”

Her laughter lit her eyes. “How can I refuse such a gallant request? But I’m warning you that I’m a big breakfast eater—much to my mother’s dismay—so don’t expect me to order an egg-white omelet and black coffee.”

He tried to keep his face serious. “I wouldn’t dream of letting you order anything smaller than the Breakfast Sampler Plate.”

“The fact that you can name an item on the menu has me a little frightened. I’ll agree to go out to breakfast with you, but I get to pick the place.”

“Deal.” He sat up, pulling the blanket down and leaving them both exposed from the waist up. “Although I might want something else first.”

“Later. I need food.”

She got on her hands and knees to search for her clothes, and he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her bare ass.

She looked over her shoulder at him. “You didn’t get your fill last night?”

“I didn’t get to see much of your backside—although I’m not complaining about the views I was blessed to see—so you can’t fault me for admiring it now. You have a very gorgeous ass.”

She smirked her amusement. “Yeah? Well, you might get to see plenty of it if I don’t find my underwear.”

“I thought you tossed it toward the bottom of the blanket.”

“Yeah, well, we got a little creative last night. Who knows where everything ended up?”

“So we just get up and look.”

“Great in theory,” she said, motioning her head toward the water. “I’m sure those fishermen are going to appreciate the view.”

“What?” Josh’s turned his head to see a fishing boat coasting into view. He tackled Megan flat onto the pallet and covered her with the blanket.

She laughed, pulling him down on top of her. “I think it’s too late to save my virtue.”

“Maybe so, but you gave your virtue to me, and I don’t plan on sharing it.”

“Oooh . . .” She grinned, pulling his mouth to hers. “I like it when you get all possessive.”

“Then you should love the rest of your day, because I plan to spend it being that obsessive boyfriend every girl either loves or hates.”

“And which one will I be?” she asked. “The one who loves it or hates it?”

His hand cradled her face. “I’ll let you tell me at the end of the day.”

She swatted him and he pulled her to him for a slow, hypnotic kiss that held the false promise of being the first of a thousand more. Her hands dug into his hair, keeping him firmly in place.

He lifted his face and gave her a genuine smile. “I promised you breakfast and the opportunity to not be gawked at by old men fishing on the lake. I’m neglecting my duties.”

“You haven’t heard any complaints from me.”

He looked out onto the lake. They were low enough to the ground that they’d probably gone unnoticed by the fishermen. He glanced around the pallet and surrounding grass. “So any good leads on our clothes?”

“Just what you see before you.”

He saw her dress, his jeans and nothing else. “Where are my T-shirt and underwear?”

“Forget your T-shirt,” she grumbled good-naturedly. “That bra and panties set cost me eighty-seven dollars.”

“How can you remember how much they cost so exactly?”

She cringed and turned her backside to him again. “I just bought them yesterday.”

“You did?” he asked, more hopeful than he’d intended.

She turned her face away from him. “Yes, and since I bought them hoping you might see them, you’re partially responsible for their return.”

“Well, when you put it that way . . .”

“You just want to see me in them again.”

“I could deny it, but that would be a lie.” He pulled his jeans on and zipped them up, taking extra care since he was going commando. “And you’d never believe it anyway.” He moved to the edge of the trees and spotted her bra several feet away. He held it up. “How’d this get over here?”

“Those damned raccoons,” she grumbled.

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I told you they were the ones you had to worry about.”

He dropped it by her on the sleeping bag and spotted his T-shirt on the other side of the clearing. After shaking it off, he pulled it over his head and decided not to put any effort into finding his underwear. He definitely didn’t want to wear them again if monster raccoons had been chewing on them through the night.

Megan had fastened her bra and raised her arms to pull her dress over her head when Josh froze.

“Uh, Megan . . . how frightened are you of bugs?”

“You mean like ants and mosquitos?”

“No . . . more like ticks.”

“What?” she screeched, jumping to her feet and dancing in place. “Get it off! Get it off!”

He ran over to her and pulled her into his arms to settle her down. “So you’re afraid of your mother and blood-sucking parasites. I can see a common thread.”

“It’s not funny, Josh!” she shouted, trying to pull free. “Get it off!”

“Calm down. It’s just a seed tick. I’ll pull it out.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “Where is it?”

“Close to your armpit.”

She released a shriek of panic, her feet running in place, and he had to laugh despite her obvious terror.

“Stop laughing at me!”

He pulled her dress down to her waist. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing with you.”

She swung her face around to glare at him. “I’m not laughing, Josh!”

“I know. I’m sorry. You’re just so cute.”

“There’s nothing cute about ticks!”

“Okay, hold still so I can get it off.” He lifted her arm over her head and examined her skin, surprised it was gone. “I don’t see it.”

“What do you mean you don’t see it?”

“It’s gone.”

She looked up at him, her gaze fierce. “Ticks just don’t leave, Josh. They wait until they’re engorged and drop off. Did it look engorged?”

God help him, he couldn’t laugh or she would kill him. “I admit to seeing more than my fair share of engorged objects in the last ten hours or so, but that tick wasn’t one of them.”

“Then where is it?” she shrieked, panicked again.

“Relax, Megan. It’s just a tiny tick.”

“Just a tiny tick? It’s a creature that embeds its head deep inside—” She glared up at him again when he began to snicker. “If you’re going to continue to act like a twelve-year-old boy, I’m going to leave you out here with the raccoons.”

Though he managed not to release the peals of laughter bubbling up inside him, he couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

Without responding, she pulled her dress down to the ground and tried to look over her shoulder. “I can’t see back there.”

He grabbed her shoulders and bent at the knees so his face was level with hers. “I’ll look and make sure you don’t have any ticks, okay? I promise.”

She dragged in a breath and let it out. “Okay.”

He gave her a soft kiss and released her shoulders, then moved behind her to examine her back. Since she was now naked except for her bra and the fishermen were gone, he took his time, enjoying the view more than he’d admit to Megan right now. After looking over the backs of her legs, he moved to her sides and front, then declared her tick-free. “Nothing. You’re good.”

“Then where did it go?”

“I don’t know.” He picked up her dress off the ground. “I suspect it wasn’t attached yet and fell off when you were putting your dress on.” He moved several feet away from her and shook it out before handing it back to her.

She started to step into it and had it up to her hips, when she began to scream, jerking the dress off. The skirt got tangled around her legs, and he lunged for her as she started to trip, keeping her from falling to the ground.

“It’s crawling inside my dress!” She kicked the skirt away from her, sucking in deep breaths.

“Okay, I’ll get it out.” He looked into her eyes. “It’s okay.”

She nodded, fighting to gain control. Josh moved toward the offending dress, now several feet away on the ground, when he realized the fishermen had returned and both men were standing in the small boat, staring up at them with open mouths. They looked so ancient that Josh worried they were about to lose their balance and fall out.

Josh moved in front of Megan, blocking her from their view. He held up his hands as he addressed the men. “Everything is fine here. It’s just a tick.”

“That must have been some tick,” one of the men muttered, his voice carrying over the water.

Megan lunged around Josh, but he held her in place—blocking her body with his and out of the fishermen’s view—as she shouted, “Ticks are no laughing matter!” She pointed her finger at the men to emphasize her point. “They can kill you!”

Josh turned around, grabbing her arms while making sure he was still blocking as much of their view as possible. “Okay, calm down, Tick Lady of Doom. Cut those guys a break. You just gave them the biggest thrill they’ve probably had in the last twenty years.”

She shrieked again when she realized she was naked except for her bra and dropped to the ground to grope for the blanket.

He picked up her dress again, shook it out, and checked it twice before handing it to her.

“I’m not wearing that!”

“So you’re Lady Godiva now? Maybe you want to follow in Gram’s footsteps.” He gave an involuntary shudder. “I’m not sure they’ll serve you pancakes at IHOP if you’re not wearing clothes.”

“We’re not going to IHOP!”

“Then we’ll go somewhere else, because I promised you breakfast, Megan, and damn it, I’m taking you to breakfast!”

He heard a gasp behind him. When he turned to look, he saw two more boats in the cove, everyone onboard mesmerized by the Megan and Josh show.

He squatted next to her. “Come on, Megs. We have an audience, and Knickers isn’t even here to appreciate it.” When she didn’t answer, he pressed on, “I made sure there weren’t any ticks. I checked twice. I promise.”

She took another deep breath and released it, her eyes narrowing at him as she jabbed her finger into his chest. “If I even find the hint of a tick turd on this dress, I’m going to make you suffer.”

“I accept the sentencing . . . err, I mean the consequences.”

Her mouth pursed in disapproval, but she let him slip the dress over her head. When she stood, he zipped her up, and then she marched over to the edge of the bluff, which loomed twenty feet over the water. “You can all go home now, you freaking perverts!”

She was close enough to the edge to make him nervous. He moved behind her, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her back. “You told them, so why don’t we go now?”

She marched over to the blanket and picked up her shoes and the cooler, then headed down the path without comment. Scooping up the bedding, Josh found Megan’s panties under the pallet. He picked them up and shoved them into his pants pocket before readjusting the load in his arms and hurrying after Megan.

Her stance proclaimed she was a woman on a mission, and it looked like a major part of the plan involved leaving him behind. But he caught up to her as she opened the back hatch of the car and set the cooler inside. Josh shoved the wadded bedding into the back and quickly closed the lid so he could corner Megan against the car before she opened the driver’s door.

“I know you’re pissed right now, but stop a moment to take a deep breath before we leave.”

She glared up at him.

“I’m sorry I laughed at you when you were clearly terrified.”

“I was not terrified!”

“Says the woman who would rather face an audience of old men in the nude than put on a dress that might contain a seed tick.”

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

“I hereby promise to do my utmost never to let another tick touch your gorgeous body for the rest of the time I know you.”

Her eyes danced with mischief. “That shouldn’t be too difficult, since we have to break up tonight.”

How could she say it so casually? The mere thought ripped his heart out.

But he was determined to make this the best day of his life, Knickers’ schedule be damned. “Unless the rehearsal dinner is outside.” He lifted his eyebrows to emphasize the danger.

She laughed. “You can put away your tick-vanquishing sword. It’s in a restaurant.”

He rested his hands on either side of her head and leaned in to kiss her. Her hands lifted to his cheeks as her lips met his.

There were tears in her eyes when he pulled away, but she blinked them back and smiled.

“You owe me breakfast. Are you coming?” she asked.

He opened the car door and held it open for her. “I’ll follow you anywhere.” When she gave him a questioning glance, he hastily added, “Hey, I love breakfast.”

The casual comment came easily enough, but even if it fooled her, it didn’t fool him.

Chapter Nineteen

Megan studied Josh out of the corner of her eye, trying to determine if their inevitable breakup tonight bothered him as much as it did her. He’d dropped his guard often enough for her to know he didn’t want to do this either, but there really was no other way out. She couldn’t tell her mother the truth, and if they didn’t pick option one or two, that only left three—they went through with the wedding.

She turned over the engine and picked up her phone from the console where she’d left it, not surprised to see all the missed calls and texts. She and Josh had taken off without telling anyone where they were going. Everyone was freaked out. Nicole Vandemeer was inevitably more upset than the rest, but not for the same reason as everyone else.

She scrolled through the list—calls from her mom and her dad, multiple calls and texts from Libby, one from Blair this morning, and one that came in at two a.m., which would have been midnight Pacific Time.

Jay.

Her chest tightened. She hadn’t talked to him since she’d told him the wedding was off and walked out of his apartment six weeks ago. Why was he trying to get in touch with her now?

She glanced up at Josh, whose questioning gaze told her he’d noticed her reaction. “Is everything okay?”

Shaking her head, she forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m just overwhelmed by the number of calls and texts I missed. Did Noah try to reach you?”

He grimaced. “My phone went in the pool with me last night. It’s on your bathroom counter awaiting its funeral.”

“So we need to get you a new phone today.”

“Yeah.” He was still watching her. “Did your mother send you a threatening text?” he asked, sounding worried.

“Text?” she snorted, scrolling through them. “Knickers does not text.”

“Then what’s got you so anxious?”

“I should have told someone where we were going. Libby and Blair are freaked out.”

“Take five minutes to call them and let them know you’re fine. Breakfast can wait.”

But she wasn’t in the mood to answer Libby’s excited questions and Blair’s accusations. Instead, she sent them a group text.

I’m fine. Josh and I needed to get away and I left my phone in the car. We’re headed to breakfast now.

Breakfast??? Blair demanded. You’re eating breakfast with a kidnapper?

Megan sighed. If anything, *I* kidnapped HIM.

I’m sure he wasn’t complaining, Blair sent back at lightning speed. >insert sarcasm<

I’m not doing this now, Blair. I’m going to eat breakfast. I’ll see you at the rehearsal at six.

ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS????

A text from Libby popped up. I want details!!! <3

Do NOT encourage her! Blair responded.

Is Noah okay? Megan asked.

Who is NOAH?

Josh’s brother.

Megan’s cell phone rang three seconds later. Sure enough, it was Blair. She silenced the phone and tossed it onto the console.

“Problems?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” She put the car in reverse and backed out of their parking spot.

“Shouldn’t you call your mother?”

“Yes.” She kept driving and didn’t pick up her phone.

“I abandoned Noah at your parents’ house.” He laughed in response to her cringe. “Don’t worry. If anyone can handle your mother, it’s my brother. But I should call him and do some recon, see how bad it is.”

“Oh, it’s bad.” She forced a grin. “But that might be a good idea. Besides, you better check on him.”

Josh picked up her phone and entered Noah’s number before holding the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Noah. I thought I’d let you know I haven’t disappeared over state lines.” He grimaced. “She’s sitting here next to me, so watch it.”

He didn’t look happy, making Megan wonder what his brother had said.

“How are things at the Vandemeer residence?” He was silent for a long pause before he muttered, “Uh-huh.” Several more moments of silence followed, broken by, “Okay” and “Wow.” Finally he said, “Oh, shit. I hadn’t thought about that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, we’ll meet you there at eleven.” He ended the call and put the phone down, looking out the windshield.

“Well . . . ?”

He jolted, turning to face her. “According to my brother, who is prone to embellishment, your mother nearly had a stroke. Your father gave her a couple of Xanax pills and put her to bed. She got up this morning and acted like the incident never happened.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Check my missed calls and see when she called.”

He picked up her phone, and she remembered the missed call from Jay. What if he’d left a message? It was too late to stop him now. Truth be told, she didn’t owe him an explanation, but she felt unnerved all the same.

Josh studied the list. “She called five times last night and once this morning, and there are three voice messages. Do you want me to listen to them?”

It seemed like the chickenshit way out, but she found herself nodding. “Yes.”

He listened to the first one, his shoulders lifted to his ears with tension. “Okay,” he said as he pressed delete. “That was mostly unintelligible, but the gist was for you to call her back immediately. It was about half an hour after we left.”

“Okay . . .”

He listened to the second message, fighting a grin that faded before he lowered the phone. This one he didn’t delete. “I think she’d taken the Xanax before making this call, so she sounded like she was drunk.”

Megan snorted. “My mother has never been drunk a day in her life.”

“Well, she certainly sounds like it, but she wasn’t nearly as entertaining as you were on the plane.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

He chuckled. “She demanded that you call her back and chastised you for abandoning her in her time of need.” He used air quotes to emphasize the last three words. “But then she asked you to call her no matter what time it was because she was worried about you.”

She sobered at his words. “She must have been really out of it to say that.”

“She’s your mother, Meggie. She loves you even if she doesn’t know how to say it.”

She shot him a glare. “Meggie?”

He shrugged. “It’s cute. And you’re beyond cute when you’re lecturing octogenarians about the dangers of ticks while wearing nothing but your bra.” A grin spread across his face. “It fits.”

She almost told him that no one was allowed to call her Meggie—that it had been a rule since a boy in first grade called her Steggie Meggie (short for stegosaurus) and she’d punched his front tooth out—but she stopped. What did it matter? He only had one day to use the offensive name. Besides, when he said it, it sounded right.

“There’s one more message?” she asked.

He hesitated and shifted in his seat. “Yeah, one more from your mother. She called about forty-five minutes ago.”

“Listen to it.”

He obeyed and lowered the phone after about thirty seconds, showing no reaction.

“Well?”

He sucked in a breath, disbelief spreading across his face. “She wanted to remind you that you have a full itinerary today. She said I have to pick up my tux, and I’m supposed to meet my brother at the store at eleven, which Noah had already told me about. After that, she wants you to go to Powell Gardens with her, but then I have to meet you at the courthouse later to pick up our marriage license.”

“Oh, crap,” she groaned.

“Yeah. I know.” He didn’t sound any happier about it than she did. “She listed a bunch of other things like getting your hair colored.” He turned to her. “Why are you getting your hair colored?”

She tilted her head slightly while pursing her lips. “My mother was horrified that I hadn’t gone to a salon in Seattle before I came. When I told her my last haircut was only three weeks ago, she said it needed to be highlighted to show my waves in my up-do.”

He stared at her in shock. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He reached for a lock of her hair and held it up. “Your hair is absolutely perfect, Megan. Don’t change it.”

Something warm filled her heart, mixing with the sorrow there to form a beautiful ache. How could she feel such extremes at once?

“Thanks,” she said softly.

“I would say skip the tuxes, but your mother said your brother’s going to be there, too. And Noah and I are supposed to pick up your father’s tux and take it to him.”

“Crap.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Hey.” His hand covered hers, and he grinned at her. “For better or for worse, I’m committed to this engagement until tonight. Which means everything it encompasses.”

“But Jay paid for his own tux. And I’m sure the tightwad already canceled his order.”

“I can pay for the tux.”

She cleared her throat. “No, you won’t. This is my mess. I’ll pay for it.”

He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go to breakfast and declare it a wedding-discussion-free zone.”

“Deal.”

The easy conversation they shared over breakfast only proved how perfect they were for each other. He was witty and fun. They talked without pause about growing up and graduating from college, discovering what they wanted to do with their lives. Josh admitted that his plan to join his father’s business had only been further cemented after his death, but sometimes he felt like he’d made the decision when he was a kid without ever having a choice in the matter. He never volunteered the specifics of what he did, and since he seemed to want to keep it to himself, she didn’t ask.

“If you hadn’t joined your father’s business, what would you have done?” she asked, studying his face.

“I don’t know,” he said with a self-conscious half-shrug.

She rested her forearms on the table and leaned toward him. “I don’t believe that for a second. Everyone has dreams, no matter how preposterous or stupid someone else might think they are.”

“And what’s your secret dream?” he teased, taking her hand in his. “If you’re so eager to hear mine, tell me yours.”

She gave him a wicked smile.

“You want to win American Idol.”

She laughed. “I have no such delusions. I can hardly carry a tune.”

“You want to climb Mount Everest.”

She shivered. “No way. That sounds like a nightmare. I hate the cold. One of the benefits of living in Seattle. Despite all the rain, it hardly ever snows.”

“I give up. Tell me.”

Her smile softened. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s your dream, it can’t be stupid.” His fingers squeezed around hers in encouragement.

She swallowed, looking nervous. “I want my mom to accept me for me instead of trying to change me into what she wants me to be.”

“How can that be stupid, Megan?”

“Because I shouldn’t have to want it in the first place.”

He looked into her eyes for several seconds. “I told you that my business is in trouble, big trouble, and now I find myself facing a very difficult decision. I have two choices, neither of them good. If I make one decision, ten employees lose their jobs—two of whom will have a very difficult time finding new ones—but if I choose the other, someone very important to me will probably get hurt in the process.” He sighed, not looking happy.

“You’re in a real catch-22, huh?” Someone important to him. Noah? Could this be why his brother had shown up?

“Yeah.”

“So is that why you’re hiding out with me? Avoiding the decision?”

He watched her for a moment. “No. There’s really nothing to be done at this point except for me to decide. Unless I get a miracle.”

“And you have to make your choice this weekend?” When he nodded, she asked, “Have you made a decision yet?”

“No.” His voice was gruff, and she covered his hand with her own, her thumb rubbing back and forth over his knuckles. “Like I told you, I’m leaving this trip up to fate. You’re the answer I was given. I can’t help thinking that has to mean something.”

Horror washed through her. “Me?”

“There’s absolutely nowhere else I’d rather be than with you. You were my gift from fate.” When she started to protest, he stopped her. “Let’s make a deal. We’ll avoid talking about your mother and my business so we can make today as happy as possible.”

She made a face. “Avoiding any talk about your business is a whole hell of a lot easier.”

He gave her a wicked grin. “Ha! You definitely have the home court disadvantage.”

“Just for that, I’m not going to take you to get a new phone,” she said smugly.

His voice softened. “Who am I going to call? The only person I want to be with is here with me.”

“Let’s get out of here, Romeo,” she said with a small smile.

“But we have to pick up the tuxes at eleven.”

Her smile stretched into a grin. “I know.”

Josh paid the bill and they walked out of the restaurant, his arm around her waist, holding her hip to his. He leaned down to her ear and whispered, “Do you know how distracting it was sitting across from you knowing you weren’t wearing underwear under your dress?”

She laughed, but a wave of lust washed through her. “We need to shower and change clothes.”

“Your mother mentioned she was going to pick up the flowers and check on the cake this morning before stopping by to make sure everyone’s tux looks okay.”

“So . . . we have an hour and a half in an empty house to go back, shower, and change?”

He stopped next to her car, pulling her to his chest. “And other things.” He kissed her with more intensity than she’d expected, but she wasn’t about to complain.

“Definitely other things,” she murmured against his lips.

He broke free and opened her car door. “Tell me we’re close to your parents’ house.”

“Define close.” He released a long groan and she laughed. “Ten minutes. Tops.”

“Paybacks are hell, Megan Vandemeer.”

And they were, but deliciously so. He took advantage of the fact that she was stuck behind the wheel and pantyless by skimming a hand along her thigh, lifting the hem of her skirt, and shifting higher.

“God, you’re so wet,” he groaned.

She let out a soft gasp as his fingers began to coax her close to a climax but never quite there. By the time she parked in the driveway, she was hot with desire and could think of nothing but getting him inside the house and stripping off his clothes.

She took his hand and pulled him upstairs and into her bedroom. Pushing him against the wall, she reached for his jeans. A devilish grin lit up his face as he watched her. “You’re so determined.”

“You drove me crazy all the way here. It’s my turn now.” As she lowered his jeans, she dropped to her knees and helped him step out of the pant legs.

He looked down at her, his eyes hooded with lust and desire as she licked the length of his erection, then looked up at him. His gaze met hers, and he released a low groan when she licked him again while cupping his balls. He leaned the back of his head against the wall and reached for her hair, grabbing loose handfuls as she took him into her mouth. She set the pace, but he soon became impatient.

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply as he unzipped her dress and pushed it off her shoulders and down to the floor. “I’m so torn,” he said, dragging his mouth from hers and moving to her ear. “Part of me wants to have you in the shower, and the other part of me wants you on the bed.”

She pulled his mouth back to hers. “Bed.”

He grabbed her thighs and lifted her as if she were weightless. She straddled his waist and wrapped her arms around his neck and back, kissing him as he walked the short distance to her bed. Laying her down sideways on the mattress, he hovered over her, his hand cupping her breast as their mouths still connected. He started to roll to his side, but she didn’t want to wait. She wanted him now.

“No,” she murmured. And she reached down and guided him inside her.

He accepted the invitation, lifting her hips and plunging deep into her with one thrust. She arched her back and rose up to take him in, wanting him deeper, needing more. Her legs tightened around his waist, but he pulled them loose, lifting one to hook the back of her knee over his shoulder. She gasped as his urgency increased and her body responded, wanting more.

He had her close within a minute, but she held on, fighting her release, wanting it to last, wanting to come with him. His hand covered her breast, his thumb and finger pinching her nipple, and it was enough to push her over the edge. She cried out, her fingers digging into his back as his movements grew more frantic, and he came too, pushing hard against her as he groaned.

He collapsed on top of her, unhooking her leg and rolling to his side, bringing her with him. He kissed her, his tongue seeking hers out, his hand tangling in her hair.

“This is some honeymoon we’re having,” she grinned against his lips.

“You, Megan Vandemeer, are absolutely perfect.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said with a laugh.

“This is exactly what I mean,” he said, pulling back to look into her eyes. “We just did . . . this—and now we’re laughing.”

“You can’t say sex, Josh?” she teased. “You really are a prude.”

“This was not mere sex, Megan, and you know it. This doesn’t even come close to anything I’ve ever experienced before.” Some indeterminable emotion flickered in his eyes before fading. “But maybe it’s not like that for you.”

She shook her head in amazement. “My reaction five minutes ago didn’t make it clear enough? This is not the norm for me—not that I sleep around.”

“Neither do I.”

“I’ve never . . .” Her words trailed off as she rested her hand lightly on his cheek, her thumb tracing the outline of his bottom lip. This thing between them was special. It was worth saving. “Maybe we should just tell my mom everything and let the chips fall where they may.”

Indecision flickered in his eyes. “You would really do that?”

“Stand up to my mother?”

“And tell her the truth. Can you do that and live with the consequences?”

She pulled back slightly. “What does that mean?”

“If your mother walked in right now and you told her everything, what do you think she would do?”

“First of all, she would flip out to find us sideways like this. Normal people have sex parallel to the edge of the bed, Megan,” she mocked. “Not perpendicular.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder, rubbing along her collarbone as he offered her a tentative smile. “And after that,” he prodded. “What would she say then?”

She shuddered. “It wouldn’t be good.”

“Yes, I guessed as much. But what exactly would she do?”

“She would disown me and ban my father and brother and Gram from ever speaking to me again.”

“She would really do that?”

“She’s done that exact same thing for lesser offenses. She has a sister. When I was in middle school, they had a stupid fight. Mom said it was over which toilet paper was better, of all things, but they haven’t spoken since. Gram doesn’t even mention her around my mother. And whenever I asked Gram about it, she would just say it wasn’t her story to tell. That it was up to my mom if she wanted to tell me about it someday.” She shook her head “Who could disown their own sister over something so ridiculous?”

Josh stared at her in shock.

“I know what you’re thinking.” She propped up on one elbow. “Why would I care what she thinks? But I don’t want to lose my entire family. I love my dad and my brother. And while I know Gram would still call me, I’d never see her now that she’s living with my parents. My father . . . he loves me, but I’m not sure he loves me enough.” She sat up, anxiety forming a ball in the pit of her stomach. “To tell her everything would make me an orphan in every sense of the word.”

He sat up next to her, taking her hand between both of his. “And what’s the very best-case outcome from all of this?”

“Best-case? That we would get married tomorrow with them still thinking you’re Jay.” She shook her head and pushed out her frustration with a heavy breath. “But since I don’t see you changing your last name in the near future, the far more likely best-case scenario is that you break up with me tonight and my mother spends the rest of her life shaming me. Every Thanksgiving I come home, I’ll still hear that I single-handedly lost them fifty thousand dollars.” She shrugged. “But at least I’ll still have somewhere to go for Thanksgiving dinner.”

No, Megan would have to find another solution to this problem, but as she stared into Josh’s worried face, she wasn’t sure there was one. And she only had herself to blame.

Chapter Twenty

Josh had to admit that the odds were stacked against them. Megan would have to throw her entire family away simply to take a chance on him. They hardly knew each other, but he knew enough to think she might be the one.

He thought back to something his father told him back when he was a sophomore in high school. His longtime crush had just broken his heart by refusing his invitation to the homecoming dance, so his father had brought him out for pizza. They’d talked about anything and everything else until they were halfway through their pie, and then all his father had said was, “There are lots of girls out there, Joshy. You’ll probably date a bunch of them. Or maybe you’ll only date a few. But one day, you’ll find the one.” He’d given Josh an all-knowing smile and wiped his hands on a napkin. “It will probably knock you over when you least expect it. At least that’s what happened with me. Your mother walked into my Biology 101 lab in college, and there was something about her that made me take notice. We were lab partners, and I could hardly focus on what we needed to do. I asked her out before we left the room. We were engaged a year later, but I knew right away I’d marry her someday. And every day I spent with her only made me more certain. She’d look at me in this special way . . . and my heart would melt. I wanted to make all her dreams come true, and you know what? I’ve spent my life trying. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love your mother, and I never will.” And with that, his father had picked up another slice of pizza. “Someday you’ll find the one. And I can’t wait to meet her once you do.”

Josh had blown off his father’s words, thinking his father couldn’t possibly understand what he was going through. But now he knew . . . and it saddened him that his father would never meet Megan.

But the memory of his father’s words gave him renewed determination. “So you’re really going to break up with me tonight?”

She shook her head slowly. “No. You’re going to break up with me.” Tears filled her eyes and she stood. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want the rest of our time together to be happy.”

He stood and pulled her into his arms. They had so many strikes against them, but he still held on to a slender thread of hope. “Okay.”

She forced a smile. “So for today, let’s pretend like we have forever and avoid thinking about what happens tonight. Happy memories. Agreed?”

He smiled softly at her. “Yes.”

She grabbed his hand and tugged, her smile turning genuine and playful. “Now come take a shower with me.”

“Okay, but I’m warning you now that I like really hot water.”

Her eyes twinkled with wicked delight. “No cold showers for you. I can live with that. But I don’t think you’ll need one today.”

He laughed, but his heart was still aching, reminding him that there were plenty of cold showers in his foreseeable future.

At first he thought it might be impossible to recapture their earlier playfulness, but it slipped back on easily when he was with her. They took turns washing each other, laughing about Josh confusing her shower gel for conditioner, then kissed until the water turned cold. Megan shrieked, still in the process of shaving her legs. He teased her, saying pioneer women had shaved in less favorable conditions, and she ordered him to get out.

“You know that you’re actually doing me a favor, right?” he laughed. “I already told you how I feel about cold showers.”

“Well, in that case, I insist you stay.”

He laughed and stepped to the back of the tub.

She looked up in surprise, her wet hair hanging in her face. “You’re actually going to stay?”

“I take my fake marriage vows very seriously, Megan Vandemeer. Your wish is my command.” He grinned and crossed his arms, pressing his back against the wall to keep out of the way of the stream of cool water.

She chuckled and returned her attention to shaving. The sight of her nude form bent over her long legs stirred him again. Good God, how many times could he have sex in a twenty-four-hour period?

She giggled. “I wasn’t aware that marriage vows included staying in cold showers.”

“My fake marriage vows contain many unconventional promises.”

Her gaze returned to him, stopping mid-stroke with her razor. “And what would those be?”

He shrugged, grimacing with mock apology. “You’d have to marry me to find out.”

She finished with her leg and stood up, turning toward him with a seductive look in her eyes.

God, he wanted her.

Her eyes dropped down to his growing erection, then shot back up to his face. “Your vows include cold showers?” Her voice was deeper, thick with desire.

“Possibly.”

She placed her hand on his chest and looked up into his eyes, but the teasing glint in her gaze told him it wasn’t foreplay. “Then you won’t mind this.”

Before he realized what she was doing, she grabbed the detachable showerhead off the wall and sprayed him with cold water.

He yelled and tried to jump out of the tub, but she grabbed his arm, laughing. “I thought your vows included taking cold showers with me.”

“Then after we exchange our fake marriage vows, I’ll be happy to comply. I can’t give up the milk before the wedding,” he laughed. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t need to buy the cow.”

She broke into giggles. “I bought a water buffalo last Christmas through Heifer International, so technically I already own one.”

He pulled the shower handle from her with one hand and pulled her to his chest with the other. “Then that would make you a bovine bigamist, Ms. Vandemeer.”

She eyed the shower nozzle, which Josh had pointed toward the tile wall. “What are you going to do with that?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “If I were an eye for an eye type of guy, I’d hold you down and spray you.”

“And if you weren’t . . . ?” A hopeful look crossed her face.

“I guess you’ll never find out.” He turned the water on her for a couple of seconds until she shrieked. Then, still holding her, he turned her sideways and reached for the faucet, turning off the water but leaving the showerhead dangling from the wall.

“You’ll pay for that,” she said between giggles.

He pressed her back against the tile and kissed her, playfulness turning to passion. Releasing the hold on her wrist, he pressed his palm against hers, interlacing their fingers. He pushed her arm against the wall while her free hand slid into his wet hair, holding him close. His erection pressed against her abdomen, and she reached for him, stroking his shaft.

“You’re a very resilient man,” she grinned against his lips.

“Only with you,” he said, his voice deepening.

He reached between her legs and she gasped.

“You really want to do this again?” she asked, spreading her legs wider for him.

He sucked in his breath, telling himself to slow down, but Megan seemed to have other ideas. “I told you that I had a hard time deciding between having you in the shower or on the bed. This is what I call a win/win situation.”

“So you like to have your cake and eat it, too?”

He dropped her hand, then cupped her ass and lifted her higher on the wall. “I definitely love cake.”

His mouth found hers as she helped guide him into her. She looped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, holding on as he began to move.

“Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?” he asked as he pushed inside her.

She tilted her pelvis to take him deeper. “I have a pretty good idea,” she said breathlessly.

Neither one of them lasted long. Her soft whimpers nearly pushed him over the edge, but he held on until she came, too. When she cried out and tightened around him, he buried his face into her neck and dug his fingers into her ass cheeks as he plunged deep and hard inside her before coming.

He leaned against her and she started to laugh softly in his ear. “If that flight attendant knew how amazing you are, she probably would have fought harder to keep you.”

He nuzzled her neck, making her squirm. “She never had me. You had my full attention on that flight.”

“And now?” she asked.

He arched back to look into her face. “I’m all yours, Megan.”

“Lucky me.” She gave him a sweet smile, and he marveled that she was such a chameleon—soft and vulnerable one minute, mischievous the next, then seductive and sexy.

Her eyes, focusing on something behind him, widened in horror, so he looked over his shoulder to see what had startled her. Gram was staring at them through the partially cracked shower curtain, holding up a small camera.

“I knew he’d have a nice patootie,” the older woman said.

Her words jarred Megan from her trance. “Gram! What are you doing in here? Did you take pictures?”

“I heard all that banging and moaning. I thought we had a ghost. I wanted to get a picture of it. I figured we had a chance to be on that ghost show The Dead Files.”

“We don’t have a ghost! Get out of here, Gram!”

“Can I just get one picture of Josh’s ass?”

“No!”

Josh came to his senses and jerked the shower curtain shut, turning to face Megan. “How much do you think she saw?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised to see your backside drawn in charcoal and taped to her wall.”

“Oh, God . . .”

She laughed. “It could be worse. She could have seen the front.”

“If your grandmother is home, does that mean your mother is? Doesn’t she usually take her everywhere?”

Her amusement disappeared. “Oh, no . . .”

He dropped his hold on her, and she slid down the wall. Desperate to comfort her, he said, “I don’t think she’s here, Meggie. From what she said on her voice mail, she had a very full morning.”

“Okay.”

He cupped her cheek and tilted her face up to his. “Why don’t you listen to her voice mail to verify, and I’ll hurry and get dressed and go investigate. Okay?”

She nodded, looking worried.

“Babe, even if she’s here, it’s not the end of the world. She already expected us to have sex.”

“But if Gram—who’s as deaf as an eighteen-year-old dog—heard us, then my mother definitely did. I’ll never be able to face her.”

“Megan,” he said, gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

She nodded again, looking relieved. “Okay. Thank you.”

He got out of the shower and handed her a towel. “And I’ll check the time, too. I suspect we’ll need to hurry if we’re going to meet my brother at eleven.”

“Where is he, anyway?” Megan asked. “Why isn’t he here?”

The reminder of Noah’s mission for the day hit Josh square between the eyes. How could he have forgotten? What the hell? Two days with this amazing, gorgeous woman, and he was ready to toss in the towel and let his business close. But he knew he’d do anything to keep her in his life. Talking to her this morning made him realize that he’d made his father’s legacy such a priority, he’d lost sight of everything else. Whether he could find a way to keep Megan in his life or not, he had some serious reevaluating to do with the rest of his life.

But he was going to work on one problem at a time. And Megan came first.

Chapter Twenty-One

Megan climbed out of the tub and listened to her mother’s voice mail. Josh was right. It sounded like her mother would be tied up all day before leaving in the morning. But she noticed something else. Josh hadn’t mentioned that she had a voice mail from Jay, yet he must have seen it.

Megan almost deleted it without listening, but curiosity got the best of her.

“Megan, I know our wedding was supposed to be in a couple of days, and it’s made me realize how badly I fucked things up with you. I want to take you out to dinner tomorrow night and we can talk things over. Give me a call.”

She stared at her phone in disbelief. Did he really think it would be that easy?

Another question registered, giving her pause. Would she have gone back to him if Josh hadn’t come into her world? No. There was no way she would have been able to trust him again. Jay Connors deserved whatever miserable life he’d created for himself. She deleted his voice mail, hoping her non-response would be message enough.

Josh came back to the bathroom as she put her phone on the bathroom counter next to Josh’s dead one.

He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb. “The good news is that your mother’s nowhere to be found. Gram says she refused to run errands with her. Get this, Gram’s excuse was that she thought she was coming down with something after running around naked last night.”

Megan cringed. “Good . . . I guess.”

“The bad news is that Gram wants to go to the tux rental place with us. Since I found her in her room with an easel and charcoal, I agreed. I figured it would stop her from immortalizing me in art . . . at least for the moment.”

Megan laughed. “Looks like we have a chaperone.”

Josh didn’t look so excited. “I’d be lying if I said that idea thrilled me, but when your grandmother isn’t streaking or trying to see me naked, she’s actually kind of fun.”

“I’m pretty fond of her myself.”

“Say, I really need to check my emails, but my phone is dead. Any chance I can use the computer in the home office?”

She glanced up in surprise. Why hadn’t she considered that? “Uh . . . sure. It’s password-protected, though.”

“Do you happen to know it?”

A grin spread across her face. “It’s probably the same one Dad uses for everything. Lovebug4Me.” She spelled it out for him. “He used to call me his Lovebug.”

A strange look flickered in his eyes. “You’re sure he won’t mind me using it?”

“No, of course not.”

He hesitated in the doorway. “How long do you think it will take for you to get ready? We have about forty minutes before we’re expected to show up.”

“Twenty to twenty-five minutes. I have to do something with my hair.” She lifted the damp strands hanging over her shoulder. “It only takes about fifteen minutes to get there.”

“Perfect.” He glanced at her phone. “Do you think I could borrow that? I need to check in with my business manager.”

“Of course.”

He gave her a quick kiss, then slid the phone off the counter and disappeared without another word.

* * *

Josh sat in Bart’s office chair, staring at the startup screen to his desktop computer.

He knew the password that Bart Vandemeer used for everything. The implications of what he could do with that knowledge were mind-boggling.

Of course, Megan could be wrong, but Josh had seen the man in action the previous day. He wasn’t technologically savvy, which would mean he probably didn’t change passwords unless he had to. He entered the password into the startup screen, his stomach knotting as he waited to see if it worked. If the password was a dud, it got him off the hook with his big ethical decision.

But the password was accepted, and the screen flipped to a starry sky background full of icons. Josh was relieved. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to break Bart’s privacy by checking email and document folders, but at least the decision hadn’t been made for him. Josh had never made a choice passively when he could help it. He preferred to weigh his options and make a well-planned move. That’s why he was more confused than ever since Megan had entered the equation. He’d never waffled this much in his life. Megan was his kryptonite.

First, he really did need to check his own email. The computer had two browsers. One was open with multiple tabs, including Bart’s email, and the other browser was closed. Josh opened the second browser and uploaded his email account, not surprised to see fifty emails waiting for his attention. He’d only left Seattle two days ago, but he’d neglected things the day before while searching for information about PMV Engineering.

He wasn’t surprised to see an email at the top of the list from his company’s investor. It was Friday morning, and his deadline was Monday. Sure enough, the investor wanted an update. Josh could snowball him and tell him the situation was close to being resolved—and for all he knew, Noah was making great headway at Bart’s office—but instead he found himself answering that the situation was the same. While he had a promising lead that might change the patent ownership, he couldn’t be sure it would pan out. He’d send an update as soon as he could.

The investor wouldn’t be happy. He was a man of action as well, which Josh respected and could appreciate.

His breath caught when he saw an email from Angie, his business manager, which had been sent at four a.m. The title read “URGENT,” and Josh felt sick to his stomach as he read it.

Josh,

I know you’re out of town, although Noah won’t tell me where . . . or why he flew off too. I also knew that you’d answer your phone if I called so late at night, and since there’s nothing you can do, there’s no sense in that. Still, I wanted to let you know as soon as I could.

Ted Murray’s had a heart attack.

His wife called and said they took him to Harborview. He needs a quadruple bypass and will be off work for at least a month or more. Marilyn cried and said to thank you for covering the insurance premiums after the rate increase last year. If you hadn’t increased the company contribution, he wouldn’t have coverage. When things settle down, she plans to bake you a batch of her famous cinnamon rolls.

I know I’m old enough to be your mother, and although I’ve never acted like one to you, tonight I’m going to make an exception. I’m proud of you, Josh. You stepped up when your brother wouldn’t. I know you’ve made sacrifices, even if no one else noticed. You could have easily given up, but you hung on instead. We both know how hard it would be for a fifty-seven-year-old man to start over in his career. Poor Ted would probably be jobless and destitute if you hadn’t gone above and beyond to keep this place afloat. I just wanted you to know it hasn’t gone unnoticed.

Angie

A lump burned in Josh’s throat and he blinked back tears. He’d known Ted since he was a kid. The guy was like an uncle to Josh and Noah. Part of him wanted to say screw it all, hop on a plane, and go check on him. But the email was also a sharp reminder of the original purpose of his trip. He would do Ted more good here. His father’s business wasn’t something he could drop in the dust behind him just because he was considering a life with Megan Vandemeer. Hell, there was a good chance her father had played a part in the subterfuge that might well lead to Ted Murray’s future joblessness.

He’d spent almost half his life sacrificing his personal life to keep the business from floundering. Now was not the time to change course. Lives hung in the balance. With newfound determination, he pulled up the document folders and began to search for any titles that could lead to evidence incriminating Bart Vandemeer. While he suspected the man wasn’t devious enough to pull something like this off on his own, he could very well be part of the scheme. And moreover, he might be the weakest link. Josh couldn’t ignore the phone call he’d overheard two nights ago.

Bart had more folders on his hard drive than Josh had expected, but most bore clients’ names and contained reports. After several minutes of searching, he decided his time would be better spent searching Bart’s emails.

Turned out he had two email accounts open—one business, one personal. He checked the business account first. He started his search by reviewing the emails sent and received around the time his firm would have gotten ahold of the plans for the part, then moved on to the time frame during which they would have applied for the patent. When he didn’t discover anything significant, he moved to Wednesday and the days preceding. There were in-house congratulatory emails regarding the notification that the patent had been approved, and a few about Megan’s upcoming wedding, but everything else was client-related.

So what was up with the phone call?

Noah had said he suspected the perpetrator still had the plans but wouldn’t keep them at the office in case someone came across the incriminating evidence. What if the same principle could be applied to his emails? If he wanted to hide evidence from the firm, it would be safer to use his personal account.

The search took more time than he’d planned. Twenty minutes had passed, and Megan would be ready to go any minute. Josh switched over to the personal account, and he was thankful to see Bart had fewer emails in this one. That made one stand out all the more. The sender was Herman, Moore, and Snyder, Attorneys at Law. He clicked to open it and started reading.

Mr. Vandemeer,

After examination of the paperwork you’ve provided, we feel you are safe from litigation—

“Josh?” Megan said softly.

His head jerked up, and though he tried to hide the fact that he was startled, the grin on her face let him know he wasn’t off the hook. He sucked in a breath, overcome anew by her beauty. She wore another dress, a pale pink that contrasted with her dark hair.

Focus, Josh.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, entering the room.

He clicked over to his own email tab, trying to keep the action smooth so she wouldn’t notice.

“You must be intent on your work. Did you get an answer to your problem?”

He swallowed as she moved next to him, her hand resting on his shoulder.

“Actually, I got a little more clarity.”

Her fingertips moved to his neck, massaging the tense muscles at the base of his neck. “That’s a good thing, right?” she asked sweetly.

His eyes sunk closed as he fought an inner battle. Could he continue carrying on with her this way, knowing full well that he and Noah were doing everything in their power to bring her father’s firm down? Up until now, everything had been circumstantial. He had no idea what else that email might say, but he had a feeling it was their first piece of hard evidence.

“Yeah,” he murmured, unable to make eye contact. “It’s a good thing.”

“Then why do you sound so glum?”

He looked up at her, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “Sometimes the answer we get isn’t always the one we want.”

Talk about the understatement of his life.

Chapter Twenty-Two

On the way to the tux rental shop, Gram talked nonstop about her drawing of Josh’s backside, her research into nudist colonies in Belize, and the dress Megan’s mother was making her wear—a very conservative pink suit paired with pearls. Knickers had seen the Queen Mother of England wear something similar and insisted it fit perfectly with the scheme.

“I’d rather strip down to the pearls before I walk down the aisle,” Gram said. “But I’m afraid it would give your mother a heart attack, and that would ruin your wedding.”

Megan’s eyed bugged out.

“That’s what would ruin this wedding?” Josh murmured without his usual humor. He looked behind him to make sure Gram hadn’t heard him, but she’d moved on to the cake Knickers had ordered.

Megan nodded and uh-huhed every so often, but most of her attention was fixed on Josh. Something had happened while he was reading his emails in her father’s office. He was withdrawn and distant. Did he regret what they’d done? But surely that wasn’t it. There was no way he could fake so much happiness and playfulness. She reminded herself that their fake engagement wasn’t his only concern. In fact, it was probably a small fry compared to whatever impending decision he faced. He’d told her someone would be hurt no matter what he decided, so if he’d received information leading him toward one of the options, it was bound to bring him down. Josh McMillan was a good man. Hurting people wouldn’t sit well with his soul.

She reached over and slipped her right hand under his, lacing their fingers. He didn’t respond at first and she almost pulled away, but then his fingers curled over hers, squeezing tight.

He was still silent when she parked outside the store, though he helped Gram out of the back. She shook him off as soon as she was on her feet. “I can walk on my own.”

“I wouldn’t dream of helping you,” Josh laughed, but it sounded forced to Megan’s ears. “You could probably run laps around me, Gram.”

“Damn straight,” she muttered as she made her way to the door.

Josh started to follow her, but Megan snagged his hand and pulled him back.

She looked down at their linked hands, then up into his troubled eyes. “Josh, I know you have bigger issues than my stupid wedding. I want you to know that if you need to bail to take care of your business, you’re free to go. Don’t let me stop you.”

He studied her for a moment before pulling her into his arms and crushing her lips with his. One arm encircled her back while the other dug into her hair, holding her firmly against his mouth.

The intensity of his kiss scared her. Was he telling her goodbye?

But he pulled back and slid his hand down to her cheek, the corners of his lips turning up with a hint of a smile. “I have a job to do here first. Let’s go get a tux.”

Josh put an arm around her back and led her into the shop. Gram had already wandered in and found a chair to sink into.

As if Megan were a heat-seeking missile, she instantly spotted her mother in the back of the store. Kevin and Noah were with her, and they looked like two bucks ready to butt antlers. Apparently Kevin held the same animosity for both of the brothers McMillan. But Noah was holding his own. Megan figured Noah was the type of guy who could be dropped into a camp of cannibalistic pygmies and come out of the incident revered as a god.

Her mother gave her a disapproving frown as she approached. “Megan, I’m glad to see that you could manage enough responsibility to bring Josh to pick up his tux for your wedding tomorrow.” She puckered her mouth. “Let’s hope you can show up for your own wedding. I didn’t spend fifty-six thousand dollars just to throw it all away.”

Fifty-six thousand dollars? It had snowballed even more than Megan had realized. Her irritation grew, heat burning her cheeks. Josh had more important things to attend to than this sham wedding, and she was through with pretending. “Miss my wedding? Funny you should mention it, Mother—”

Josh’s hand tightened, snugging her firm against his side. “Megan wouldn’t dream of missing the wedding. Isn’t that right, Meggie?”

“Meggie?” Kevin snorted. “She lets you call her that? She tried to beat the shit out of me every time I said it.”

“Tried,” Megan sneered, lifting an eyebrow. “You still can’t admit that I beat you up almost every time!”

“I didn’t fight that hard, Meggie,” Kevin said. “You’re a girl, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I can still take you, Kevio!”

Noah watched their exchange with an amused grin. “Kevio?”

Megan’s mother rolled her eyes, clearly irritated. “Kevin always attracted a lot of interest from girls in high school and had quite a few girlfriends. Megan compared him to Fabio one day, then started calling him Kevio.” She shot them both a reprimanding look. “You two are too old to be bickering like children.” She turned her back to them in dismissal of the subject. “Now we need to pick out a tux for Noah. He has to match because he’s going to be in the wedding.”

Ignoring her mother, Megan stuck her tongue out at her brother, and he flipped her off. It was a shame that Gram had nodded off. She loved when Megan and Kevin pushed Knickers’ buttons.

Josh’s arm was still around her waist, and she was surprised when his chest shook from a suppressed chuckle.

“How is Noah going to be in the wedding?” Megan asked her mother. “I thought you had the bridesmaids-to-groomsmen ratio perfectly figured out.”

“I’m making your cousin Vince an usher now.”

Noah shifted his weight. “I’m good with just sitting in the audience.”

“I was tempted,” Megan’s mother said, giving her attention to a shoe display. “Especially since Josh’s side is shockingly bare. But I think it’s more important to have his brother standing beside him. Oh, here’s the salesperson now.”

A man emerged from the back room holding a black tuxedo.

Noah grimaced, clearly not impressed.

“I think this will fit you,” the man said, handing the suit to Josh’s brother. “I have the groom’s tux out already.” He eyed Josh up and down. “Are you the groom?”

Josh hesitated before nodding. “Yeah.”

Megan tried to hide her surprise that Jay hadn’t canceled his order. That type of slip-up was totally out of character. Still, she wasn’t sure what good it did them. Josh was taller and broader than Jay, so there was no way the tux was going to fit him. She supposed it didn’t really matter since he wasn’t going to wear it anyway.

Unfortunately, the salesman shook his head. “They must have really screwed up your measurements in Seattle. I’m not sure the tux I pulled is going to fit you.”

Megan’s mother jolted. “What are you talking about?”

“I can tell the pants aren’t long enough, and I don’t think the jacket will fit his broad shoulders.”

“Please tell me you have something that will fit.”

The man looked worried. “It’s June, Mrs. Vandemeer. We were lucky to have a tux for the groom’s brother. I’ll check, but I can’t make any promises.”

“You better take care of this, or heads will roll!” her mother shouted.

Gram jerked upright in her chair. “We’re having dinner rolls?” she asked, looking excited. “I’m hungry.”

Kevin laughed, not a friendly sound, and his gaze landed squarely on Josh. “No one’s head is going to roll . . . yet.”

The clerk still looked nervous. “I also pulled the tux for the bride’s brother.” He turned to Kevin. “If you could go back and try it on to make sure it fits. Especially after this . . . situation.” He nodded to Noah. “You can go back with him to try yours on, too.”

Noah looked even less thrilled than the other men did.

The clerk turned to Josh. “I’ll need to re-measure you to see what we have.” He grabbed the tape measure and quickly took Josh’s measurements. “They were definitely off,” he said quietly. “As I suspected, the tux we have won’t fit.”

“How could you people be so incompetent?” Knickers’ voice took an icy tone. “It’s such a simple thing. You just write down numbers.”

The anxious clerk started to twitch, and guilt ate at Megan’s resolve. The poor man had Jay’s measurements, not Josh’s. And he was right. Josh was taller and broader than her ex-fiancé. There was no way the tux would fit. “Mom. Stop. It’s not his fault the measurements are wrong.”

She put her hand on her hip. “What on earth does that mean?”

Megan started to answer, but Josh’s grip tightened on her side, and he cleared his throat. “Mrs. Vandemeer, what she means is that we suspect the salesperson in Seattle was dyslexic.”

“What?” she asked in disbelief. “Why on earth would they put a dyslexic person in charge of taking measurements?”

“That’s what I said,” Josh said in exasperation. “In fact, I told Megan I didn’t trust him, but she insisted I was overreacting.” He looked down at Megan, his mouth pinched in disapproval.

Megan gasped in surprise. What on earth was he doing throwing her under the bus like that? Then she realized he was paving the way for their breakup. The thought made her heart beat faster, but in a way that was strangely close to panic.

Still, if Josh expected her mother to take her side, he was wrong. “Josh, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now that math isn’t Megan’s strong suit.”

His arm stiffened and Megan was sure he was going to say something, but the clerk emerged from the back. “Good news, Mrs. Vandemeer! We have a tuxedo that will fit him.”

She held her hand to her chest, fingering the pearls at the base of her throat. “Thank goodness.”

“We’ll need you to try it on to make sure it fits.”

Josh snuck a glance at Megan. For the first time since they’d started this charade, he looked uncertain.

Fear twisted in her stomach. Was he going to break up with her now? She knew it had to be done, but even after what she’d said in the parking lot, she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. She lifted up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I want to see you wearing it.”

“Yes,” Megan’s mother said. “I need to see it on.”

“Okay . . .” He still sounded unsure, but he followed the salesman to the back.

Megan pulled back her shoulders, waiting for her mother to attack now that they were alone with Gram, who had closed her eyes again after realizing they weren’t about to eat.

“It pains me to see that you’re still so irresponsible, Megan,” her mother said. “I had hoped the fact you’re getting married tomorrow would help you mature.”

Megan considered responding, but what was the point?

Her tone softened. “Honestly, Megan. I was very worried after you and Josh disappeared last night. I understand why you left, but the least you could have done was call and let me know you were okay.”

Megan met her mother’s eyes and saw unexpected sincerity there. This was the first time she could remember her mother ever putting her concern for Megan’s safety over the need to look good in front of other people. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Her mother’s eyes widened in surprise. Megan knew why she was startled—she had never so willing volunteered an apology to her mother.

Maybe they were both growing up.

Kevin and Noah walked out of the dressing rooms, both wearing black tuxedos. Her mother’s attention turned to the men, fussing over seams and hem lengths. But Josh was the one who stole her breath away when he emerged from the dressing rooms a moment later.

He wore a black tuxedo with shiny black lapels. His shirt was white and it was paired with a white bow tie. He stood in the doorway, the uncertainty on his face more pronounced than before. He was a handsome man. She’d recognized that the first moment she saw him, but it was what was in his heart that had drawn her to him.

As his gaze sought out hers, she walked to him, unable to keep away. She stopped a foot in front of him and placed her hands on his lapels. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

His eyes searched hers for something—she wasn’t sure what. She offered him a soft reassuring smile and the twinkle in his eyes returned.

They stared at each other for several seconds before Kevin made a production of releasing a groan. “Save it for the honeymoon.”

Sadness flickered in Josh’s eyes, but only for a second before he wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her gently to his chest. “Give the girl a second,” he said to her brother. “She’s been overcome by my ruggedly handsome good looks.”

Noah laughed, but Megan didn’t so much as spare him a glance. Josh was her sole focus. She didn’t want to lose him. What was she going to do?

The men went back to take off their tuxes, and after a couple of minutes, Megan’s mother’s no-nonsense voice returned. “I’m glad you finally deigned to make an appearance because we have things that need to be done, and we’re desperately behind. I have an updated itinerary for you in the Navigator. Let’s go.”

Megan spun around to face her. “Go? What about Josh?”

“He’s going with his brother.”

She shook her head, adamant. “No. Whatever I’m doing, he’s coming with me.”

“It’s the day before your wedding, Megan,” her mother groaned in an exasperated tone. “After tomorrow, you can spend your entire life with him, but I need you today. It doesn’t help that your irresponsibility has added more things to our TBD list.”

“How has my disappearance last night added to the list?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Not last night, Megan. I’m talking about your weight and your hair.” She shuddered. “We were lucky my stylist could fit you in this afternoon.”

Megan stared at her in disbelief. Her weight? Was she seriously bringing that up again?

“What’s wrong with Megan’s weight?”

She turned to see Josh, who had reappeared from the dressing rooms, now dressed in his jeans and shirt. There was an unmistakable undertone of menace in his voice.

Gram sat up again, and Megan suspected the older woman’s nap had been faked to avoid interacting with Knickers. Smart woman.

Surprisingly, her mother looked slightly embarrassed. “It’s . . . well . . . most brides lose weight before their weddings, and her dress was too small because she didn’t.”

Josh’s eyes widened and a stunned silence followed her mother’s words. When he spoke, his voice was controlled and tight, showing more authority than Megan had ever heard him use. “Lose weight? Why would she lose weight? She’s absolutely perfect the way she is, and without being vulgar or crass, I like her curves just as they are. And as for her hair—” he closed the distance between them, “—it’s perfect, too.” He glanced at Megan’s mother, his gaze allowing for no argument. “This woman by my side is the woman I want to marry, exactly as she is right now. I don’t want her transformed into some cookie-cutter Barbie doll, so don’t you dare try to do it.”

Her mother gaped at him, her mouth drooping open. He had done what Megan had previously thought impossible: He’d stunned Nicole Vandemeer into silence.

Gram started to chuckle.

His hand snagged Megan’s, his fingers curling around hers and holding tight. “So now that the stylist appointment can be canceled, what else do we need to do?”

That shook her mother out of her stupor. “It’s on the itinerary.”

“It’s a damn wedding,” Josh said, trying to keep his anger in check. “Not a global summit. What do Megan and I need to do today? Absolute musts only.”

Her mother’s face reddened, although Megan wasn’t sure if it was from anger or embarrassment. Perhaps both. “She needs to pick up her dress and make sure it fits after the alterations. You both need to pick up the marriage license.”

Megan’s hand grew clammy at the mere mention.

Her mother’s resolve seemed to be returning, along with her haughtiness. “As I said in my message this morning, I have an appointment at Powell Gardens at two to go over everything for tomorrow with the event planner. I would prefer for Megan to come to that, but I need you both at the Platte County Courthouse at three thirty.”

“Why so precise?” Megan asked.

Her mother’s scowl deepened. “It’s all in the itinerary, Megan. Did you even bother to read it?”

Megan figured her silence was answer enough.

Her mother rolled her eyes again. “I have a photographer scheduled to be there to take your pictures.”

“Getting our marriage license?”

“It’s an important moment to preserve.”

Megan shook her head, at a loss for words.

“So Megan needs to pick up her dress, and we need to meet you at three thirty at the courthouse,” Josh said in a tone that was all business. It was obvious he’d axed the Powell Gardens stop as must-do. “Anything else?”

“You were supposed to go see Bart at his office to take him his tux and make sure it fits before the shop closes today.” Her eyes hardened and she shot the clerk a glare. “And after today’s fiasco, it’s a good thing I already budgeted in time to make sure it worked out.”

“Josh’s tux issues weren’t this poor man’s fault, Mother.”

“Nevertheless . . .”

“I’ll take care of it,” Noah said, stepping forward and clapping Josh on the shoulder. “You go spend the day with your bride-to-be. I’ll take Bart his tux.”

Megan’s mother looked dubious.

“I’d love to do it, Mrs. Vandemeer,” Noah said, using a toothpaste commercial smile that Megan was sure had gotten him more women than he could count.

“If you’re sure . . .”

Noah’s grin spread. “Well, that settles it. You two crazy kids go have fun picking up wedding dresses and getting that marriage license.” He turned slightly so Megan’s mother couldn’t see him snicker.

“We’ll see you at three thirty.” Josh tugged on Megan’s hand and dragged her toward the front door.

“Run, kids!” Gram called after them. “Escape while you can!”

“Megan!” her mother called after her. “Do not let him see your dress.”

“See you later, Mom,” she said as Josh continued out the door, not stopping until after he opened the car door for her.

“You just bowled over my mother,” Megan said as she climbed into the driver’s seat. “Thanks.”

His hand tightened around the edge of the car door, and his eyes darkened. “I probably should have let you handle it, but she infuriated me.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Does she seriously think you need to lose weight?”

Megan looked up into his face, floored by the protectiveness radiating off him. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get the dress, then eat lunch.” She gave him a wicked grin. “I seem to have worked up an appetite.”

“Sounds good to me.”

The bridal shop was only ten minutes away, and they made an unspoken pact not to talk about their impending troubles. Megan told Josh about all the spats she and her brother used to get into as kids and how all her friends used to crush on him, Blair included.

“No offense,” Josh said in a dry tone, “but I have trouble imagining Blair developing a crush on anyone. It seems like she’d be happier if she were actually crushing them instead.”

“I told you that she wasn’t always like this. She means well.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Tell me more about growing up with your brother.”

She pulled into the bridal store parking lot, and Josh held out his hands, beaming. “Looks like my Noah stories will have to wait.”

“You can tell me at lunch.”

Josh followed her into the bridal store, holding the door open for her. The saleswoman recognized her and smiled, probably in part because her mother was nowhere in evidence. “We have your dress ready for you. Go on back to the fitting room, and I’ll bring it to you.”

Josh looked around, wariness in his eyes as he took in the racks of lace, satin, and organza dresses.

Megan laughed. “You don’t have to be in here, Josh. You can wait in the car.”

“No, I want to see you in your dress.”

“My mother specifically forbade it.”

He gave her a wicked grin. “Since when do you obey your mother?”

His words caught her off guard. Her entire life had been one act of secret disobedience after the other, except for her major, impossible-to-hide decisions like running off to college and moving to Seattle. It wasn’t that she was purposely hiding her defiance. She was avoiding conflict. Megan had no problem standing up to anyone else. So why couldn’t she stand up for herself with her mother?

“Megan?” Josh asked, his smile fading.

She threw her arms around his neck. She couldn’t believe she was considering what she was considering. Was this man, whom she’d only known for two days, worth the risk? What she felt for him scared her, but the thought of losing him scared her more.

His arm tightened around her back, and his hand cupped the back of her head. “Hey, are you okay?”

She leaned back and searched his face, not even sure what she was looking for—perhaps some sign that he was right there with her, that fate really had seated them together on that plane. Could there actually be something to the fortune teller’s prediction?

“Do you want to just skip this?” he whispered, his eyes filled with worry. “It’s not like we’re really getting married.”

She forced a smile. “No. I’m just being silly.” She broke loose from his hold. “You have a seat, and I’ll show it to you.”

His eyes searched hers. “Are you sure?”

“Sit,” she ordered, her good mood returning. “I’ll be out after I wrestle this monster on.”

“Okay.”

She found the saleswoman in the back waiting with the crinoline skirt. “Do you have a strapless bra?”

Megan cringed. “No.”

“Not to worry. Your mother had us set one aside.”

“Of course she did,” Megan mumbled.

“You get undressed and put on the bra. Then I’ll be in to help you with the dress.”

Megan didn’t waste time disrobing and putting on the bra. The saleswoman returned moments later and helped her pull the fluffy skirt over her head.

“Tomorrow I’m sure your hair will be done, so you’ll probably want to step into the slip, but the dress will still have to go over your head.”

“Okay,” Megan said, only half listening. None of it mattered. She would never wear the dress again anyway.

The clerk removed the dress from the hanger. “Ready?” the woman asked, holding the dress toward her.

“As much as I’ll ever be.”

The clerk gave her a questioning look but kept silent.

It took several minutes to get the dress over her head and laced in the back. The clerk opened the door and helped her maneuver the massive skirt through the opening. “Are you sure you want the groom to see you?” the woman asked. “Some people believe it’s bad luck.”

“I’ve had enough bad luck to last me a lifetime. I’ll risk it.” She picked up the skirt and rounded the corner.

Josh was sitting in a chair, his legs extended and crossed at the ankles, his arms crossed over his chest. When she entered the viewing area, he sat upright, his gaze combing her from head to toe.

She stepped onto the short stage and dropped the fluffy skirt.

Josh still eyed her, his face expressionless.

Megan cocked an eyebrow. “That bad, huh?”

He shook his head and stood. “The opposite of bad.”

She looked down at the massive skirt, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “I look like Cinderella . . . if she stuck her finger in the light socket just before running off to the ball to seduce Prince Charming. Now all I need is a pair of glass slippers. But it fits the princess theme, so if Knickers is happy, everyone is supposed to be.”

“But you’re not happy?”

“What does it matter? It’s not like there’s going to be a wedding anyway.”

The sales clerk, who had begun inspecting the seams on the dress, jerked her head up in surprise but refrained from comment.

“Why did you buy the dress if you hate it so much?” Josh asked.

“First of all, I don’t really hate the dress. It’s beautiful. It’s just not what I wanted. And I didn’t order it. My mother did.” She took a deep breath to keep from tearing up, but her voice still broke as she continued, “Apparently the dress I chose—the dress I love—didn’t fit in with her princess theme, so she ordered this one.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I wish I was.”

“That’s just not right.”

She lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug, trying to convince herself it didn’t matter, even though it still hurt. “It is what it is.”

“Which one did you pick?”

Megan’s head jerked up in surprise. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It matters to me. Which one did you pick? I want to see it.”

A warmth spread through her chest, and she resisted the urge to hug him. “I don’t even know if they have it anymore.”

“We do,” the sales woman said, standing upright.

“How do you know about it?” Megan asked, looking over her shoulder at her. “I don’t remember you being here when I tried on dresses last fall.”

“I wasn’t. But I took the call when your mother changed the order. It was too late to cancel the first dress, but your mother pitched such a fit the manager let her order the new one, taking the loss and hoping we’d sell the original. I’ve never heard of a bride’s mother canceling a bride’s dress behind her back like that. It was the talk of the store for weeks. We would have called you if any of us knew how to reach you.”

“You still have it?” Megan asked.

The woman nodded.

“Can she try it on?” Josh asked.

“Sure . . .” the woman said. “But you can’t trade it. This dress has already been altered to fit you. No refunds.”

“That’s okay,” Josh said. “I still want to see it on her.”

“This one looks beautiful,” the woman said, fluffing the skirt, then stepping off the stage. “But I’ll pull the other one if you want to see it.”

“Thanks,” Josh said, offering his hand to Megan.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked as she stepped down next to him.

“Don’t you want to try it on again?”

Did she? “I don’t see the point.”

She loved the dress, yes, but this whole charade had gotten out of hand. Her mother had spent the equivalent of a year’s salary on the wedding, and for what? Wasn’t a wedding supposed to be the commitment of two people who not only loved each other but genuinely liked each other enough to promise a lifetime commitment? This wedding would be no less of a farce if Jay were here with her now. She had thought she loved Jay, but now she wasn’t sure she’d even liked him. She was embarrassed to admit it to herself, but there it was. The truth. Finding Jay nailing his secretary on his desk was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

But if she were teasing the truth out of this screwed-up mess, she also knew that the dress she’d chosen meant something to her. It had been her symbol that she would get married someday and have a different marriage than her parents did. She’d almost screwed up with Jay, but she was realizing what was important. And the man in front of her ranked very high on that list, even after only knowing him a few days.

He gave her a coaxing smile. “Indulge me.”

She returned to the fitting room and waited for the woman to come back and help her change. The dress she’d chosen was lighter, and rather than the crinoline skirt of the Cinderella dress, its skirt was made of swathes of silk with scattered gatherings around the skirt and a small train. The bodice was like a wrap dress, with a V-neck that showed off her chest without revealing too much cleavage. The first dress had been strapless, but this one had short, silk, off-the-shoulder sleeves.

“This dress does suit you better,” the saleswoman said as she zipped up the back. “You need a different veil. I don’t think the tiara your mother picked would work. Wait a moment. I have one in mind.”

She was back within seconds, holding a comb with an attached veil, which she carefully arranged on top of Megan’s head. “That’s much better,” the woman said, but there was regret in her voice. “It’s such a shame your mother didn’t stick with this one. I really do wish we could exchange it.”

“It’s okay. I’m not getting married anyway.” The saleswoman started to say something, but Megan interrupted her. “It’s a long story. Josh is just filling in.”

The woman took it in stride, which made Megan wonder how many weird stories she heard in her line of work. “Well, let’s let your substitute groom see you.”

“Okay,” Megan said, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. The sales clerk was right. This dress was so much more her. While she hadn’t thought anything of showing the other dress to Josh, this one mattered. What if he didn’t like it?

His back was turned, his eyes gazing out the shop’s windows, but he must have heard the ruffle of silk because he turned slowly to look at her.

She took several steps toward him, then stopped, searching his face for a reaction.

He must have seen the worry in her eyes because he closed the distance between them, gently slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her mouth to his. It was a soft kiss, gentle and reassuring. When he lifted his head, his eyes were filled with warmth. “God, Megan. You’re beautiful.”

She flushed, slightly irritated with herself that his opinion meant so much.

“Your mother is an idiot,” he murmured, picking up her hand as he took a step back. “This dress is so much more you.”

The clerk stood behind Megan, smiling sadly. “It fits perfectly. This dress looks like it was made for you.”

Megan stepped up onto the stage and studied herself in the mirror.

A group of women entered the store, chatting excitedly, and an anxious look filled the saleswoman’s eyes. “My next appointment is here, and the other consultant called in sick.”

Megan forced a smile. “That’s okay. I’m done.” She stepped off the stage, ignoring Josh’s offer to help, confused by her feelings. She couldn’t name all of the emotions brewing in her chest, but she could name one, pushing its way to the front, demanding attention—sadness. She didn’t know if it was over the man she was possibly walking away from or the dress she’d never have, because after wearing it for Josh, she knew she could never wear it for another man.

Chapter Twenty-Three

When they got back into the car, Josh told her that he’d changed his mind. He wanted to get a phone after all.

She told herself it didn’t mean anything, but somehow she sensed it did.

Nevertheless, his earlier distance was gone. She stopped at a phone store next to the shopping mall and stayed with him while he picked out his replacement. He touched her nonstop—either holding her hand or putting an arm around her. And she teased him about how he’d told her earlier in the morning that he was going to be the attentive boyfriend she would either love or hate.

“And which is it so far?” he asked with a grin.

She lifted her eyebrows playfully. “I’ll let you know later, but I have no complaints so far.”

He snaked an arm around her back and pulled her close, searching her eyes.

“You two are so cute,” the sales girl gushed. “It’s so wonderful to see couples in love.”

She expected Josh to pull away or protest, but he only pulled her closer and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead.

In love? It was too soon to make that kind of pronouncement, yet there was no denying she was heading there fast. What if they didn’t go past tonight? How would she live with that? But something told her focusing on the future would be a mistake if it meant missing out on the present.

They left the store and she drove him to a crummy little strip mall, refusing to tell him where they were headed until she parked. “Don’t let the exterior fool you,” she said, pointing at the sign. Faded cartoon characters adorned the sign. A man on a horse carrying a Mexican flag was next to a man with a huge handlebar mustache holding a set of maracas. A third man was about to take a bite out of a huge taco. “Three Amigos has the best Mexican food I’ve ever eaten. And they make great margaritas, too.”

“You don’t have to sell me on it. We’re already here. And I’m starving, so let’s go get a table.”

Fifteen minutes later, their orders were in and Megan had already polished off one margarita and, after Josh’s assurance he’d drive to the courthouse, asked for a second one. They had fallen back into their lightheartedness from earlier when Megan’s phone rang.

“It’s probably my mother making sure I haven’t run off again,” she said, faking a cringe. But when she saw the name on the screen, her smile fell. Why was Jay calling her again?

“Is it your mother?”

She silenced the ringer and stuffed it back into her purse. “It doesn’t matter. You were telling me a story about your brother scratching your name in the side of your mother’s car with a key when you were kids.”

He studied her for a moment, and she wondered if he suspected something, but he resumed his story.

They had finished their lunch, Megan had polished off her second drink, and they were sharing fried ice cream when Josh pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. He set his spoon on the table. “It’s Noah. I better take it.”

“Sure. Of course,” she said, but she wasn’t prepared for him to leave the table and go outside.

Why couldn’t he talk to his brother in front of her? But before she could think it through, her own phone rang again. She pulled it out, planning to take advantage of Josh being outside so she could tell Jay to take a flying leap. But it wasn’t him at all; it was Blair.

She answered, her tone sweeter than usual, “Hello, Blair.”

“Please tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

“About what?”

“The rehearsal dinner.” Megan could tell Blair was trying to be civil.

“I suggested pasta, but my mother insists on chicken, and you know Knickers, so no changing my mind about that.”

“Very funny.” Her sarcasm was heavier than usual. “Seriously, Megan. Just how far are you planning to take this?”

“This is going to end tonight, Blair. Calm down. It’s under control.”

“Calm down? You’re sleeping with a man who’s lying to your parents about his name . . . a man you’ve known for less than three days. Not to mention the fact that you’re asking me to come to a rehearsal for a wedding that’s not even taking place. Why should I calm down?”

“Who said I was sleeping with him?”

“Please. Don’t insult me. I can hear it in your voice.”

No wonder Blair was such a great divorce attorney. She was like a human lie detector. “My sex life is no one’s business but my own.”

“Maybe so, but it’s my job as a friend to point out when you’re being irresponsible.”

Megan remained silent, worried about what she’d say if she didn’t give herself a second to calm down. Several seconds of silence passed, but she still didn’t trust herself. “I think I better hang up before I say something I’ll regret.”

“Megan.” Blair’s tone softened, but it wasn’t enough to appease Megan.

“The rehearsal is at six at Powell Gardens. Come or don’t come. I’ll understand if you don’t.” Megan hung up before Blair could respond. She stared at the phone, wondering if she was being too hard on her friend. What would she do if their roles were reversed? Probably have Blair admitted for a psych evaluation.

Josh slid into his seat, not looking much happier than Megan.

“Everything okay with Noah?” she asked.

He scowled but tried to force a smile. “Fine. Just a brother thing.”

He was obviously hiding something from her, but what business was it of hers?

He gestured toward the phone in her hand. “Another missed call?”

She shrugged. “Blair.”

“I take it that it didn’t go well?”

“Once again, she’s made it abundantly clear that she doesn’t approve of what we’re doing.”

He was silent for a moment. “You can’t really blame her, can you? She’s trying to be a good friend.”

“Whose side are you taking?” It was a complete turnaround from his previous attitude toward Blair.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. But you’ve been friends with her for what? Ten years?”

“Over twenty.”

“Don’t throw that away on an asshole like me.”

She gaped at him. Where was this attitude coming from? “What did your brother say that bothered you so much?”

“Nothing.” He pulled his wallet out. “Shouldn’t we get going? We need to get a marriage license.”

She dug inside her purse and pulled out a credit card. “I said I’d pay for lunch, Josh.”

“Megan, will you just let me pay for it. Please.” His tone was shorter than he’d used with her before. What did she really know about him, though? Maybe this was normal for him.

No. She may have only known him for a short period of time, but she knew something was up. And it had to do with that phone call.

“Fine. I need to go to the restroom anyway.”

She went to the restroom and checked her own phone. Blair hadn’t called her back, but she felt a sudden urge to talk to Libby.

“Hey, Libs,” Megan said when she answered. “I just needed to hear a friendly voice.”

“Is Knickers that bad today? She must have been furious after your disappearing act last night. She was fit to be tied when she couldn’t find you two. Poor Noah got the third degree. And Knickers was even more furious when Noah couldn’t reach Josh’s phone.”

“Sorry to leave you with such a mess on your hands. And thanks for taking care of Noah.”

“Hey, if you ran off with Josh and had a good night, it was well worth it. And there’s no taking care of Noah. He’s a player, plain and simple.”

“So there’s nothing between you?”

“What? I’m dating Mitch.”

“I know, but . . .”

“No, Megan. There’s nothing between us. We’re friends. Friends who like to flirt, but friends nonetheless.”

“Is someone like Noah capable of being just friends with a woman?”

“That’s pretty judgmental, Knickers Junior.”

“I know you’re right, but you have to admit that you’ve met more than your fair share of men like him. How many of them have been good at having platonic female friends?”

“You hardly know Noah.”

“So I pegged him wrong?”

Libby paused a beat, then laughed. “No. You have him exactly right. But before you say anything else, I’ll just say our friendship is based on an alliance.”

“What alliance?”

“The goal of keeping you and Josh together.”

“I’m not pinning any hopes on a future just yet.”

“Why?”

“Look, today I’m just living for the moment. That’s the gift I was granted. I admit that I want more with him, but there are just too many variables in play for me to count on anything. And at the risk of beating a dead horse, we can’t forget how my mother’s going to react to all of this. You remember the mess with my Aunt Heather.”

Libby sighed. “Damn. I forgot about her. You’re in deep shit.”

“I know,” Megan said in defeat. “But it doesn’t matter. Josh has been wonderful all morning—even sticking up for me with Knickers—but he just took a call from Noah, and now he’s acting cold and distant. I can’t help thinking Noah said something to make Josh have second thoughts about me.”

“Impossible. Noah wants you two together.”

“That’s weird, don’t you think? Noah doesn’t seem like the type of guy to play matchmaker.”

“It’s his kid brother, and he knows you make him happy. That’s all it is. Quit being so suspicious, or you’ll start to sound like Blair.”

“Very funny.”

“He likes you, Megan, and you like him, too. I see the way you look at him. I’ve never seen you so taken with a guy, and Noah says the same is true of Josh.”

“It’s all just happening so fast, Libs. What am I supposed to do?”

“Just go with it for now. Fate put you together in the first place. It will keep you together. The fortune teller said so.”

Libby had always been the dreamer, while Blair was invariably the voice of reason. Both qualities were constantly at war in Megan. She wasn’t so certain fate would work everything out—and she definitely didn’t believe some fake fortune teller—but this one time she really hoped Libby was right.

“Go have fun with him. Just enjoy the ride, Megs. Stop stressing. It’ll all work out.”

“Well, fate only has until tonight.”

“Don’t throw this away,” Libby said, taking an uncharacteristically serious tone. “If you do, I have a feeling you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

That’s exactly what Megan was afraid of.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Josh signed the check and left the restaurant, then started to pace the sidewalk as he waited for Megan. Noah’s phone call had left him conflicted. He played it over again in his head, hoping for a better resolution.

Josh had told Noah about Bart’s password and the suspicious email while they were in the dressing rooms at the tux shop. He’d no sooner picked up Noah’s phone call than his brother said, “She’s right. The password works on everything . . . everything but his personal email account. Is there any way you can quiz her to see if she knows of any alternate passwords?”

“No. That one was a fluke, and even if I could work it into a normal conversation, I suspect she wouldn’t know. She said it was the password he used for everything . . . so we’re screwed.”

“Slow down there,” Noah laughed. “We may have struck out there, but that doesn’t mean I came up empty-handed.”

It turned out that Noah had already made more progress in two hours at Bart Vandemeer’s office than Josh had made in a day. “Don’t ever become a detective, Joshy,” Noah chuckled. “You couldn’t investigate your way out of a paper bag.”

“Hey, I got the password.”

Noah just laughed. “Which you already admitted was a lucky fluke.”

“Who did you screw to get what you needed?” Josh asked dryly.

“While I’m flattered you think I could seduce someone so quickly during a weekday, and in an office to boot, that’s not how I did it.”

“So how did you do it?”

“Flattery and asking the right questions.”

“That’s great. Gloat all you want. What I really want to know is what you’ve found.”

“I think you might be right about Bart Vandemeer being a part of this.”

Josh’s heart sank. He had hoped to be wrong, even though the email seemed like pretty substantial evidence. “Why would you say that?”

“The bookkeeper let it slip that Bart has been siphoning money off the company. Thousands of dollars.”

“That’s no surprise. Nicole Vandemeer spent fifty-six grand on a wedding Megan didn’t even want.”

“Down boy. You nearly jumped down Nicole’s throat at the tuxedo rental store.”

“She deserved it.”

“Well, cool your outrage. You need to stay in that woman’s good graces.”

“Why?” Noah didn’t answer and an anxious ball formed in the pit of Josh’s stomach. “Noah? Why do I need to stay in the woman’s good graces?”

“You can’t break up with Vandemeer’s daughter tonight.”

A disarming mixture of relief and dismay washed through him. “Why not?”

“Because the partner’s son, Drew Peterman, is showing up for the wedding tomorrow. I saw a photo of him in the partner’s office with his fiancée.”

“Is that supposed to mean something? Do I really care who’s on the guest list?” Josh was still trying to decide whether postponing his inevitable breakup was a good thing or not.

“Peterman’s fiancée is the woman I slept with the night the plans disappeared.”

“Holy shit.”

“Exactly.” Noah sounded smug, not that Josh could blame him. It was a monumental find. Of course, Noah was the one who’d lost the plans to Drew Peterman’s fiancée in the first place.

“If Drew Peterman stole the plans, how does Bart Vandemeer come into play?”

“Bart’s been taking so much money from the company that the firm needs this patent to survive just like we do.”

“Shit. That’s the proof we need.” This should have made him happy, but all it did was make him nauseated.

“Yep. It’s shitty as hell, but it’s their firm or ours, and they didn’t play fair, so which one do you pick, Joshy?”

“You know damn well which one I pick.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Noah murmured. “But all of this is to say that we need to be around tomorrow. I’m going to corner the fiancée and get her to admit she stole the plans.”

“How in God’s name do you propose to do that?”

“I have my ways. Now you need to use yours. Convince Vandemeer’s daughter to keep the charade going.”

“We’re getting a marriage license this afternoon, Noah.”

“I heard.”

“I’m pretty damn sure you have to provide ID to apply. Megan’s mother is going to be there.”

“Take care of it.”

“That’s helpful.”

“Look, Josh. I know this is totally unlike you, but it’s obvious you like the girl, so keep playing house.” He paused and his voice softened. “Dude, I know I’ve sucked as a brother, and what I’m asking you to do sucks more than any of it all combined, but we need this. Think about Ted—yeah, I know about Ted. Where’s he going to be if we close our doors on Monday?”

Josh didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

“Maybe you can get the happy ending you truly deserve, Josh, but for now we need you to keep this going.”

“I don’t think I can do that.” Josh’s voice cracked.

“You can and you will. Now I have to go. I’ll see you at the rehearsal.”

The conversation had sucked something out of Josh, and he’d taken it out on Megan. She didn’t deserve any of this. Not her mother, not her cheating ex-fiancé, and especially not Josh and the havoc he brought with him.

Now, as he waited for her to join him, he wrestled with his conscience. The way he saw it, he had three options: One, tell her everything right now. Two, break up with her at the rehearsal dinner like they’d originally planned. Or three, follow through with Noah’s crazy plan. But what would happen then? Was he supposed to ditch her before the wedding?

She studied his face as she stepped out of the restaurant, probably trying to judge his temperament. Her brow was lowered with worry and cautiousness. He vowed to make this as easy on her as possible, but he had no idea what that entailed. So he followed his gut, which meant recapturing their earlier happiness.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms, kissing her with abandon, his deep fear of losing her fueling his passion.

She clutched at his chest, trying to pull him closer, as his arm tightened around her back and his other hand nestled the nape of her neck. He could feel her pulse racing, and the knowledge of how he affected her only turned him on more. But they were standing on a public sidewalk, and even if it wasn’t prime lunchtime, they’d already made enough of an exhibition of themselves. He lifted his head, pleased to see she was just as breathless as he was.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his hand caressing her neck. “I was irritated with Noah, and I took it out on you.”

“Josh, it’s okay.”

“It’s not, but I promise to try my best not to be an ass for the rest of the day.”

“Until tonight,” she said.

Rather than answering, he took the car keys from her hand. “Let’s go get a marriage license.”

As he drove to the courthouse, he reached over and interlaced his fingers with hers. She turned and offered him a soft smile and something in his chest felt warm and overwhelming. His hand squeezed hers tighter as he tried to decipher what he felt. He wasn’t big on hand-holding. It had always felt clingy and confining, yet here he was, not only instigating it, but enjoying it.

Using the map app on her phone, she gave him directions until he pulled into the parking lot of the gray stone building slightly after three thirty. “My mother is going to have a fit that we were late.”

“Only by a few minutes.”

“It’s enough to release the kraken,” she teased.

As they walked to the building, he held her hand again, grateful that she didn’t seem to mind.

When they entered the office of the recorder of deeds, Megan’s mother was sitting in an ancient vinyl chair, drumming her fingers on the arm. Josh was surprised she’d sit on something so tacky and most likely germy, but maybe she’d wiped it down with an antibacterial wipe first. A very unhappy man who appeared to be in his thirties sat next to her. A camera bag rested on the floor at his feet. He shot a glare at the both of them, then glanced at the phone in his hand.

“Hello again, Mom,” Megan said with a cheerful tone.

She pressed her mouth into a tight line. “You’re late.”

“Only by a few minutes.”

“Every minute counts. The office closes at four.”

“So why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“This is the only time the photographer could come.”

Megan turned her attention to the man who now stood behind her mother. She extended her hand to him, most likely as a peace offering. “Hi, I’m Megan. Thanks for indulging my mother’s eccentricities.”

She winked and he laughed and winked back, his mood visibly lightening.

Josh offered the man his own hand. “I’m Josh. The groom.” He hadn’t meant to add that part, but he hadn’t liked the way the photographer was acting with her.

What the hell? He’d never been jealous of previous girlfriends. But he had more serious issues to deal with than self-analysis—like the fact that he was here to not only file for a very real marriage license, but he had to keep his real last name a secret from the other two people in the room besides Megan.

They approached the counter and filled out the application, the photographer taking photos of them. Megan seemed irritated, but Josh was more concerned someone would announce his real last name and blow his cover.

A clerk took the application and their driver’s licenses. “That will be fifty-one dollars,” she said, giving them an expectant look.

“Do you take a credit or debit card?” Josh asked.

The woman’s mouth pursed with disapproval. “Cash only. Exact change. It’s very clearly stated on the website.”

Megan looked up at him, her eyes wide. There went his hope that she was prepared. He was surprised that Nicole hadn’t already slapped the bills on the counter in anticipation of their ill-preparedness. Apparently even she had her limits. But she’d slipped out the door, presumably to the restroom, and the photographer felt no need to pony up.

Megan and Josh started digging through their wallets, and together they managed to come up with the exact amount. When they found the last quarter, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t think we were going to make it,” Megan said, shaking her head as she closed her wallet.

“Can you imagine the look on your mother’s face?”

“I’d rather not.”

The clerk handed back their driver’s licenses and told them she’d be right back.

“What exactly am I supposed to get photos of?” the photographer asked.

“The two of them filling out the application,” Nicole said, sounding disgruntled as she walked back into the small office waiting room.

“I got that, so can I go?” he asked, looking at the clock at the wall.

Megan’s mother rolled her eyes. “Fine, leave.”

The man grabbed his bag, not even taking time to put his camera away. But the clerk was on her way back with the license, and Nicole stopped him.

“I want you to get a photo of them holding it.”

“Maybe you should wait until tomorrow, Mom,” Megan suggested, casting a nervous glance at Josh. She must have been thinking the same thing he was. If they were taking photos of the marriage license, there was a good chance Knickers would see his real name. “When we actually sign it.”

Megan’s mother gave her an exasperated look. “Oh, we’ll get that, too. You can never have too many photos.”

The clerk returned to the counter with the paperwork. “Here you go, Mr. Mc—”

Josh reached for the paper, cutting her off. “Thank you.”

Megan’s mother gave the clerk a strange look. “What did you start to call—?”

“Mom,” Megan interrupted, putting an arm around her mother’s shoulders and squeezing as she pulled her away from the clerk. “How about you and I get a photo together?”

“Really?” she asked, sounding shocked.

“Of course,” Megan said, her tone softening. Josh was surprised by how happy the older woman looked.

The photographer shook his head and grimaced. Two days ago, Josh might have reacted the same way, but now he was learning to take things in stride. The photographer snapped several shots—Josh joining halfway through—before Megan dropped her hold on her mother.

“Thank you, Mr . . . ?”

“Steve,” the photographer supplied, picking his bag up off the chair.

“Thank you, Steve.”

“See you tomorrow,” he said, waving as he walked out the door.

Josh saw Megan’s slight flinch, and he knew it was from guilt. How could he get her to agree to carry this on through tomorrow?

Before he was even out the door, Knickers looked Megan and Josh up and down, her disapproval returning. “The rehearsal’s in two hours. You two better hurry home if you’re going to be at the gardens by six.”

She grabbed the corner of the folded license in Josh’s hand and tugged, but Josh didn’t let go. “I’ll hold onto it until tomorrow.”

“No, that’s okay.” He tugged back. “I’ve got it.”

She pulled harder. “I think it’s better if I take it.”

Josh didn’t want to get into a tug-of-war with Megan’s mother, but there was no way in hell he was letting Nicole Vandemeer take the marriage license, which included his full, proper name, with her. He pulled back. “No, Nicole. I insist.”

The clerk stood behind the counter, her mouth hanging open. She shook herself out of her stupor. “If you rip that up, you’ll have to pay for a new one.”

Josh and Megan had barely scrounged together the money to pay for the first one. He gave a hard jerk and pulled it free. Knickers gasped as she stumbled backward, righting herself before she fell over.

Megan just watched the wrestling match with wide eyes.

Holding the paper to his chest, Josh said, “Megan, your mom’s right, we better go if we’re going to get to the rehearsal in time.”

She nodded, still speechless, and rushed toward the door, snagging Josh’s hand as she bolted. Nicole still hadn’t moved an inch—apparently frozen in place with shock—but she came to her senses as they hurried out the door.

“Whatever you do, do not lose that paper.”

Josh slowed down once they were halfway down the hallway, and Megan gave him a questioning glance.

“She does realize we’re adults, doesn’t she?” His disbelief was bleeding into irritation. “Professional, fully functional adults.”

Megan laughed as she opened the door to the stairwell. “Hello. Have you met my mother?”

Josh followed her and let the door close behind him. “She accused me of potentially losing our marriage license, Megan. Who would lose their marriage license?”

She stopped and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. “You’re pretty cute when you get all indignant like that.”

He laughed, pulling her to his chest. “Cute, huh?”

A playful grin spread across her face as she looked up at him and said in a mock serious tone, “Okay, you looked so sexy wrestling that paper from my fifty-eight-year-old mother.”

He leaned his head back and laughed. “It wasn’t easy. She has an iron grip.”

“Well, I’m glad you hung in there and won. I almost died when she tried to take it. That would have been a disaster.”

His smile fell, and he searched her eyes. “What if she had gotten it?”

She turned serious. “But she didn’t.”

“What if she found out I wasn’t Jay?” He held his breath as he watched her inner battle play out on her face. He wasn’t sure why he was asking, except he still held out a cockeyed optimistic hope that they’d figure out a way to make this work when it was all said and done.

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “Josh.”

His hand slid up her back, rubbing in slow circles. “It’s okay. Don’t answer that. I just . . .” His voice trailed off.

“I know.”

He leaned back and offered her a smile. “Let’s go get ready for our wedding rehearsal.”

“You mean our breakup.”

He didn’t answer. He’d lied to her enough. He didn’t feel like lying anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Hours later, Josh was frustrated for so many reasons. He and Megan hadn’t counted on how badly Friday rush hour traffic would delay their drive to her parents’ home. Knickers had shown up only minutes behind them, along with everyone else, to get ready for the evening. Everyone congregated in the living room as Knickers barked out last-minute orders, as if she were in the marines with Kevin. Megan was already on edge, thinking dinner would be ground zero for their breakup, so when Knickers announced that he needed to pack his belongings because he wouldn’t be spending the night at the Vandemeer home, Megan flipped her shit.

“What?”

“Megan,” Knickers had said in her snooty, condescending tone. “It’s the night before your wedding. You can’t spend the night together.”

Megan stood at the base of the stairs. “I’m a grown woman! I can make my own decisions!”

Her mother pursed her lips with determination. “It’s already been decided. Your father and I have booked a hotel room for Josh.”

“You can’t just decide on something like that without asking us first!” Megan shouted.

Josh was proud of her for finally taking a stand, even if it was for a cause she had to see as pointless. She thought he was breaking up with her tonight, in which case he wouldn’t have stayed at the house anyway. But he worried that she was going to spill everything. That couldn’t happen yet . . . not when he and Noah were so close to getting the answers they needed.

Josh put a hand on Megan’s arm. “Megan, it’s okay.”

She turned to look up at him, tears in her eyes. “No, it’s not, Josh.”

Then it hit him. She was upset that he was leaving. Period. Relief seeped through him before the aftertaste of guilt bit in. While he was grateful for the confirmation that she wanted more with him, he hated to see her this upset.

He pulled her into his arms. “It’s okay, Meggie,” he whispered in her ear as he stroked the back of her head. “We’ll work everything out. I promise.”

She clung to him, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to run away with her. But he couldn’t, as much as it killed him. His employees were in trouble because of someone else’s wrongdoing, and they needed his help. “Nicole,” he said over the top of Megan’s head. “It’s fine. I’ll pack up before we leave, and I’ll have Noah take me to the hotel later.”

“Noah’s welcome to stay here tonight, or he can stay with you if you’d like,” Knickers said.

Noah stood next to the sofa, watching the scene unfold. Josh cast a glance toward his brother, who gave him a short shake of his head. They hadn’t found the original plans, so Noah probably wanted to search the basement. Finding the documents would spell game over for PMV Engineering; it would be proof enough to convince their investor to hang tight. “That’s okay. I’m going to be anxious and nervous. Noah won’t get any sleep if he stays with me.”

Gram had been standing to the side watching. “I’ll go with him.”

Knickers rolled her eyes. “Mother, you can’t stay with Josh at the hotel.”

“He promised to help me with my research on nudist colonies in Belize. He hasn’t done it yet.”

Josh couldn’t help but grin.

“I bet he’d feel less anxious about the wedding if I kept him company. We could have a yoga session. It does wonders for stress.”

Josh was pretty sure he’d be anxious about something else.

“What do you have to feel nervous about, Josh?” Kevin asked with a sneer, leaning his shoulder against the doorjamb to the kitchen and crossing his arms over his chest. “Having second thoughts about marrying my sister?”

Josh’s anger surged, but he tried to control it. This was Megan’s brother, after all; he needed to play nice for as long as possible. “When you get married, Kevin, we’ll talk. Then maybe you’ll have an idea.”

He pulled Megan upstairs to her room so she could get ready and he could pack. She’d settled down some, but he could tell she was still fluttering with nervous energy. “We need to figure out how you’re going to break up with me.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he tugged her to him. “Maybe we can put it off.”

She pulled free. “How can we put it off? The wedding is tomorrow. We have to break up, Josh.”

He hesitated, worried about pushing her, especially since she was already distraught. “What if we don’t?”

She froze, her face a mask. “What does that mean?”

He pulled her to the bed and sat down beside her, holding her hand. “Look, the wedding is paid for whether we get married or not, right?”

She shook her head in confusion. “Well . . . yeah, but . . .”

“Wait,” he said, a little more desperately than he would have liked. “Just hear me out, okay?”

“Okay.” She looked uncertain.

“What if we don’t break up tonight?” His brain scrambled to come up with a plan. He knew he needed one, but he had yet to think of anything that might actually work. “What if I break up with you before the wedding?”

“You’re going to ditch me at the altar?” she asked in dismay. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that would be?”

He hadn’t thought about it that way. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Okay, what if we do go through with the wedding? It’s already paid for. Everyone might as well get their chicken dinners.”

“But then we’ll be married!”

“No,” Josh said, breathless. “Only if the marriage license gets sent to the courthouse. I’ll take it from the minister and make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“But everyone will think we’re married.” She shook her head again. “Scratch that. They’ll think I’m married to Jay.”

“Then tell them you got a divorce. Or an annulment. Or,” he gushed out, trying to figure out a solution, a way to buy himself more time for both of his dilemmas. “You can tell everyone the wedding wasn’t legal because we had a fight and I tore up the marriage license instead of sending it in.”

“Josh.” She stood and turned to face him. “This is crazy.”

He jumped to his feet in front of her. “I know.”

“I don’t understand why we don’t just break up tonight . . .”

He pulled her into his arms. “Do you really want to end this in a few hours?”

“That’s beside the point.”

He cradled her face with both hands, and she covered his with her own. “No. It’s not. It is the point. Do you want to break up? Yes or no?”

She released a heavy breath and looked down. “No.”

He kissed her hard, then pulled back, surprised at his own building excitement. “I don’t want to either. So let’s not.”

She shook her head again. “So you’re suggesting that we go through with the wedding?”

“Meggie, I told you that I left this trip to fate. Maybe this is our fate. Maybe we’re supposed to do this.”

“But . . .” He could tell she wasn’t sold yet, but he’d planted the seed, and she hadn’t outright dismissed the idea. In fact, she’d been more receptive than he’d expected.

“Don’t decide yet. Just think about it.”

“But I don’t have time to think about it.”

“You do. You have at least a couple of hours or so.” He searched her eyes. “I know it doesn’t sound like long, but just go with your gut, okay? You’ll know whether you want to go through with it or not.”

“And if I decide I want you to break up with me tonight?”

He searched her face. “Then we’ll set the wheels in motion. You only have to say the word.”

* * *

Despite his dislike for Blair, Josh was happy she’d arrived for the rehearsal, if only because it so clearly pleased Megan. The tension in her shoulders eased when her friend showed up, but Blair let them both know she was on guard.

“This in no way means I condone what you’re doing,” Blair said under her breath, just out of hearing distance of Knickers. The group was waiting in the parking lot for some last-minute stragglers so everyone could enter the grounds together.

Megan pulled her to one side of the lot, Libby and Josh following close behind.

“So basically you’re here to spy on me,” Megan teased.

A wicked gleam filled Blair’s eyes. “Pretty much.”

“I can live with that.”

“You’re always so cynical, Blair,” Libby said. “It’s almost like you don’t believe in marriage.” She looked around at the people gathered for the rehearsal, which included a few of Megan’s cousins and aunts and uncles. “Where is Neil, anyway?”

The bridge of Blair’s nose scrunched with disapproval. “Neil is still at work. He’ll meet us later. Where’s your new boyfriend, Libs?” she asked, her tone barbed. “Mitch, is it?”

Libby shot her a tolerant smile. “Mitch is meeting us at the restaurant, too.”

The gardens had rented out the chapel for another wedding that evening, so they were directed to the small lawn by the main entrance. Knickers told everyone what time they needed to show up for the wedding and where, although Josh was confused by some of the instructions. He could see the chapel on the other side of the pond, and he overheard something about the rooms underneath, but he was too focused on Megan to give it much thought. She was jittery and wide-eyed as they all took their places for the run-through, and he knew exactly what was getting to her. This felt like a farce. A fake rehearsal on top of a fake wedding, made worse by the fact they had very real feelings for each other . . . and no idea if their relationship was about to meet its sell-by date. Hell, it was getting to him, too, but she was a wild card at the moment, her nerves apparent enough to gain her mother’s attention.

“Megan?” she asked as Megan took her place beside her father. Blair and Libby were getting ready to practice their walk down the aisle. “Care to join us here at the rehearsal? You’re obviously a million miles away.”

Megan’s mouth opened as if to say something. Then she took a deep breath and dropped her father’s arm. She took several steps into the center of the lawn, clasping her hands in front of her, her face paler than usual.

“Actually, there’s something I have to tell you.” She lifted her gaze to Josh, who stood at the end of the imaginary aisle with Noah and Kevin, next to the sidewalk that led to the gardens.

Josh’s eyes widened, and he shook his head slowly.

She glanced down at her hands. “I . . . this . . .”

Josh’s heart seized in his chest. How could he stop her? Should he stop her? This wasn’t some game they were playing, after all. He was screwing with her life. But truth be told, his business issues aside, he wasn’t ready to lose this woman. He was certain he’d never find anyone like her again. He didn’t even want to try.

Libby rushed toward Megan and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I think Megan’s got some pre-wedding jitters. We all know how this marching down the aisle thing works. How about we just skip it and go to dinner?”

“No,” Kevin said, stepping away from Josh and Noah. “I don’t think that’s it at all.” He moved closer to her. “Megan, you don’t have to marry this dipshit. Come on, let’s go home.”

Without replying to her brother—or even looking at him—Megan glanced up at Josh, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Josh held his breath, clenching his fists at his sides as he silently pleaded with her.

Relinquishing her position at the head of the group, Knickers marched to the center of the lawn, her imperiousness slightly undermined when her spiky heels sunk into the wet sod. She swung her legs in an exaggerated movement to break them loose of the earth. “Stop the wedding? Have you lost your mind, Kevin? I always expect you to be the sensible one.”

“The sensible one?” Josh said, louder than he meant. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Bart, who now stood several feet behind Megan, had a panicked look on his face. Things were spiraling out of control pretty quickly, and Josh could easily guess who would bear the brunt of it later.

Finally reaching Megan, Kevin grabbed her hand and pulled her to him, his face red. “Mom, we’ve all sat back and let you ramrod this family for long enough. Enough.”

“Ramrod this family?” she shrieked.

Kevin flung his arm toward Josh. “Megan’s not marrying this guy.”

“Of course she’s marrying him!” Nicole shouted, her face twisted with a mixture of surprise and anger. She wobbled as her heel sunk deeper, pitching her to the side.

Josh took a moment to survey the rest of the scene: Gram, who’d been seated in a folding chair at the side of the group, was watching it all, her eyes glittering with excitement. Megan’s cousins stood toward the back of the lawn, looking all at once uncomfortable and enthralled. Blair seemed like she was about to rush over and drag Megan away, but Libby was blocking her path. The minister stood behind, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

Shaking Josh out of his stupor, Noah leaned into his ear and whispered, “You have to put a stop to this. Now.”

“I know.” But did he? Part of him wanted to let it play out, to let Megan make her choice without any intervention.

“Well, Megan?” her mother demanded, hands on her hips as she tottered back and forth like a baby giraffe. “Are you going to tell your brother to go back to the groom’s line so we can finish this rehearsal and go to dinner?” She shook her head, looking like she was about to implode. “If Josh will even let Kevin stand up with him.” She pointed her French-tip-manicured finger at him. “Your behavior is deplorable.”

Megan looked from her mother to her brother, then finally rested her gaze on Josh, tears streaming down her face as her chin quivered.

His heart twisted with a pain that sucked in his breath. He couldn’t do this to her. He couldn’t hurt her. Not her.

“Megan,” he said, taking a step forward; his voice cracked, but he didn’t care. “You are singularly the best thing that has ever come into my life.”

She dropped Kevin’s hand and studied Josh as a fresh trail of tears tumbled down her cheeks. Kevin’s fists balled at his sides, but Josh didn’t let that stop him. He continued to take slow steps toward Megan, moving around Knickers. “You fell into my life and turned it upside down. You’ve made me question everyone and everything, but when I sort through it all, the only thing that makes sense is you.”

He stopped in front of her, her eyes looking up at him in confusion and sorrow.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs wiping her tears. “Don’t cry, Meggie. We’ll do whatever you want. You just say the word. If you want to end this right now, we can. I won’t fight you. But if you want to keep going . . .” He pushed past the lump in his throat, ignoring the fact they had an audience. “Can I tell you how I feel before you make your decision?”

She nodded, fresh tears breaking free, the sight hurting his heart even more.

“I can’t imagine walking away from this mess without you. I don’t know how this happened. I only know it did. You know how I said I left it all up to fate?”

She nodded, sucking in her lower lip to stop her chin from quivering.

He smiled at her and picked up her hand, cradling it between his own. “We’re supposed to be together. I know it. I don’t want to go back to Seattle without you. Don’t give up on us, okay? Don’t give up on me.”

She watched him, indecision wavering in her eyes.

He pressed his forehead to hers, lowering his voice to a whisper. “It’s up to you, Meggie. Either I walk away, or we keep going. I just want you to be happy. What will make you happy?”

A soft smile lifted her mouth. “You make me happy, Josh. I’ve never been happier than I am with you.”

Relief flooded through him, and he released the breath he’d been holding. “So what do you want to do about it? Do you want me to take you away from this mess?”

She looked around at her family, then at the crowd of botanical gardens visitors who now lined the sidewalk by their practice lawn. They were watching with open mouths, as if they’d happened upon a particularly trashy episode of reality television. Finally, she returned her gaze to him, her orneriness returning. “And walk away from a fifty-grand party? Not on your life.”

He kissed her, his joy overshadowing the fear that lurked in the shadows of his heart. He still had to come clean, but not yet. Not now. He might lose her when he did, and he wasn’t ready to take that risk.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him and kissing him back.

The crowd of onlookers—strangers and friends and family alike—broke into applause and a round of “Woots,” undoubtedly led by Libby.

When he lifted his head, he noticed two people were not participating: Kevin and Blair. They stood together now, glaring at him as if he were public enemy number one. He could deal with their animosity—even hatred—as long as they didn’t try to take Megan from him.

“Well,” Knickers said, breaking into the celebration. “Now that this nonsense has been taken care of, can we finish the rehearsal?” She pointed a finger at Kevin. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Josh returned to the other end of the lawn next to Noah, Kevin shooting darts of hate at him the whole time. Too relieved to care, Josh took a deep breath, letting himself relax. He couldn’t believe how close he’d come to losing her. He couldn’t believe how panicked he’d felt at the prospect.

Noah clapped his hand on Josh’s shoulder and leaned in close. “Good save there, Joshy.”

Anger rushed over him, and before he could think about it, he hissed, “This isn’t a game, Noah. She’s important to me.”

An uncharacteristic solemnity covered Noah’s face. “I know she is.”

Josh blinked, words escaping him.

“I know you, Josh . . . You love this girl. I’m sorry for what I . . .” He cleared his throat. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

In the entirety of his twenty-nine years, Josh couldn’t remember Noah taking the side of love or romance. He thought it was a hyped-up emotion that quickly ran its course. But as he sorted through his shock, he registered the word Noah had used: love. Josh started to protest, but Kevin, who’d been standing as far from them as the situation could warrant, leaned closer. “Do you boys have something you want to tell me about my sister?”

Josh shook his head, his back tensing. “No.”

If this wedding were real, he’d be tempted to invite Kevin to the parking lot to discuss this further. But he reminded himself that Megan’s brother’s animosity was really for Jay. He wasn’t sure whether to deck him or cheer him on for finally coming to her defense.

Kevin edged closer, not stopping until he stood a foot away. “I don’t trust you. Something strange is going on here, and I’m going to prove it before Megan makes the biggest mistake of her life.”

“Kevin!” Nicole shouted while pointing to his preordained spot. “This is your last warning. Get back into place.”

Knickers began the practice drill, and since Josh’s job seemed to consist mostly of standing at the front, he had time to think about his brother’s words. Could Noah have read him correctly? He really liked Megan. He lusted for her like he’d never lusted for a woman before, but love? How could you fall in love with someone in a matter of days?

They wrapped up the rehearsal and left for the restaurant. Megan’s mother had reserved a private room at a steak restaurant closer to their home. Because of the delay from all the drama, Neil and Mitch were already waiting for the group at the restaurant.

As everyone headed down the hall to the room, Josh snagged Megan’s hand and pulled her out the front door, into the warm summer evening. She seemed almost relieved; her brother, of all people, had ridden to the restaurant with them, so there hadn’t been an opportunity for them to speak privately.

Josh led her a little ways down the sidewalk, then took both of her hands in his. “I’m worried about you. How are you doing?”

She gave him a hesitant smile. “I’m better.”

“So we’re doing this?”

She searched his eyes for a moment. “I guess we are.”

He lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a gentle kiss. When she sighed and leaned into him, something tightened in his chest. Suddenly he realized that if it came down to her or his employees, he wasn’t sure he’d pick his employees. He was seriously considering giving up a thirty-year-old business for a woman he’d known a few days. And that scared him.

She pulled back and gave him a sweet smile that melted his heart. “We better get inside before my mother has a coronary.”

“You’re right.” But he kissed her again, not wanting to let this moment go.

“Maybe I can stay with you at the hotel tonight,” she murmured against his lips.

“I don’t know.” He grinned. “Gram’s promised to make my last night as a bachelor a memorable experience. She keeps talking about the positions she wants to show me. All I remember is something about a camel and a baby.”

Megan laughed, a pure melodious sound that he tried to bottle into a memory he could pull out later and reminisce over if things went south.

The others were already seated when they entered the room, but no one seemed surprised they were coming in late. They probably figured Megan and Josh had some spat before the rehearsal and needed to iron things out. Thankfully, Kevin and Blair hadn’t conspired to split Megan and Josh up with the seating chart. There were three tables. One was for Megan’s parents and aunts and uncles; the second was for her cousins, Kevin, and Gram; and they were seated at the third, with Noah, Blair and Neil, and Libby and Mitch. Josh held Megan’s chair out for her, and she flashed him a mischievous grin. The certainty of how much he needed her—not just wanted—hit him square between the eyes.

Josh was surprised by how civil Blair was toward him. After a couple of drinks, she let her guard down and seemed to actually be having fun, albeit not with her fiancé. Neil was a quiet, unassuming man, and Josh couldn’t at all see the attraction between him and Megan’s tempestuous friend. By the time the entrées had been served, it was apparent their marriage would be one of convenience. Blair brought her prestigious career to the deal, but he couldn’t figure out what Neil had to offer.

Mitch and Libby seemed like a much better fit. He was funny and attentive to her, and she seemed to genuinely like him. But while Josh could hardly claim to be an expert at love or matchmaking, he thought something was missing—maybe that essential spark he himself had only felt with Megan. Noah must have noticed, too. He spent the entire dinner by Libby’s side, deep in conversation with her. If Mitch felt threatened, he never let on. Josh worried that Kevin would come over to talk with them at some point and ruin the friendlier atmosphere, but he stayed where he was, seemingly content to continue sending evil glares across the room. Josh was suddenly glad he’d been exiled from the Vandemeer home. He wouldn’t put it past Kevin to come into Megan’s room in the middle of the night and hold a pillow over his face.

How had nice guy Josh McMillan acquired so many enemies in such a short time?

During dessert, Josh leaned over and gave Megan a kiss. “I need to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Okay, but no guarantees your cheesecake will still be here when you return.”

He laughed, feeling happier than he’d felt in a long time. “I guess I’ll take my chances.”

When he reached the doorway, he looked back to see her fork hovering over his dessert plate. He laughed, shaking his head as he made the short trip to the men’s room. After he finished his business and emerged from the restroom, he wasn’t surprised to see Blair waiting for him in the hall.

“Blair,” he said, his voice tight.

“Scumbag.”

He tried to suppress a grin. He shouldn’t enjoy riling her up so much when she clearly had Megan’s best interest at heart.

“You find all of this so amusing, do you?”

Any hint of a grin fell. “No. Actually, I don’t.”

“I need to talk to you in private.”

Josh considered blowing her off, but if he had any hope of a long-term relationship with Megan, Blair was part of the package. “Okay.”

She led the way out the front door and sat down on a nearby concrete bench. Josh only realized she’d brought her large black leather purse with her when she pulled out a folder and set the bag on the ground next to her. She patted the concrete seat. “Sit down. Let’s take a look at what I have here.”

His heart leapt into his throat. What could she have in that folder?

“So you carried through with your threat,” he said as he sat next to her, trying to keep his tone light.

“Oh, you bet your fine ass I did.” She opened the folder.

There was a recent photo of him stapled to one side, a photo that had been in the Seattle Times two years ago, along with a small piece about Josh’s firm.

“Joshua Thomas McMillan.”

“You found my middle name. You really are a super sleuth.”

“I could list all the boring stuff,” Blair said, ignoring him, her tone breezy and casual. She actually sounded happy, which was surely a bad sign. “Like your birthdate, parents’ names, where you went to grade school . . .”

“But then you don’t seem like the type of woman who wastes time.”

She turned to him with a radiant smile. “You do get me.”

He shrugged, forcing himself to act lighthearted even though he felt like he was about to throw up. “Why don’t we just get to the good stuff?”

“Yes. Let’s.” She sounded like a giddy schoolgirl as she flipped through a stack of papers. “Does Megan know you’re an engineer?”

He could deny it, but what was the point? “No.”

“Hmm . . .” A twinkle lit up her eyes. “Now why is that?” But she didn’t give him a chance to answer, rummaging instead through several printouts of press releases and financial statements on his company letterhead.

He grabbed a page from the stack, his anger surfacing. “How did you get this stuff? It’s confidential.”

“I told you I’d find out everything.” Her gaze dropped to his crotch before returning to his face. “Circumcised,” she singsonged.

“You obviously think you found something important, so why don’t you spit it out?”

“Oh, Josh,” she pouted. “I could go for the clean, humane kill, but what fun would that be? I’d rather toy with you first.” Her eyes narrowed. “I like to watch the sleazeballs squirm.”

Josh jumped to his feet, trying to control his temper. “This is a game to you?”

She looked up at him, clearly unnerved. “Everything’s a game, Joshua. You, of all people, should know that.”

He shook his head, pointing to the restaurant. “Not her. Not this.”

She got to her feet, too, tilting her head slightly, her eyes icy cold with rage now. “Yes, this. Especially this. You’re using my best friend to gather information to steal her father’s patent.”

“Steal his patent!” Josh shouted. “He stole my design!”

She shook her head, glaring at him. “No, Josh. Protest all you want. He filed the patent first.”

Sick dread gave him a chill despite the warm night air.

“He came to me three years ago. He told me that he had a revolutionary design his firm wanted to patent. I couldn’t help him, but I had a friend who could, so I made the introductions. I met Tim in law school, and now he works for one of the best patent firms in the country, Haverty and Simmons in Boston.” She took a step toward him. “You filed your patent, but it was a week too late. So now you’re here trying to steal information that will paint Bart and his firm in a bad light.”

“If you know so much, then you must know my firm will be dead by Monday morning if I don’t get proof my design was stolen. Ten employees will lose their jobs.”

“Boohoo. They’ll find new ones.”

“These aren’t nameless people to me, Blair.” He held his hand out, pleading with her to understand. “Some of them were hired by my father when he first opened the doors thirty years ago. They have families to feed.”

“People lose their jobs all the time, McMillan,” she sneered. “They’ll live.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “How are you friends with that incredibly sweet and sensitive person in there?” He jabbed his finger toward the front door of the restaurant.

“You were counting on that, weren’t you?” she said. “You studied her, found out she’d broken off her engagement. You bought the seat next to her on the plane so you could use her.”

He shook his head again, his eyes wide in horror. “No. No.”

“Yes. You purposely sat by her and played her like a freaking fiddle.” Her face contorted with hate. “You took advantage of her vulnerability and used her.”

He took a step back, trying not to panic. What if she told Megan her twisted version of events? Worse, what if Megan believed her?

She shook her head in disgust. “I swear to God, if I had a gun right now, I’d be tempted to shoot you myself.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m surprised you’re not inside right now, presenting your case to that room full of people. It seems to me you’d want to broadcast my imperfections to as many people as possible.”

“Imperfections? This reaches far beyond imperfections.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I actually care about Megan. I’m not telling anyone else but her. She’s been embarrassed enough over the last couple months.”

He breathed a silent prayer of relief.

She laughed, a bitter sound. “I think we can make a deal, Joshua McMillan.”

Fear seized his heart. “What kind of deal?”

She began to pace the sidewalk, her hands behind her back, the folder still clutched in her grasp. “I’m sure we can reach a compromise that’s satisfactory to us both.”

He highly doubted it. “Go on. You obviously have the terms worked out in your head.”

She released a haughty laugh. “In my head? Oh, no, Joshua, I’m an attorney. I’m the queen of paper.” She pulled another document out of the folder and handed it to him.

He took it with shaky hands. “What’s this?”

“Your agreement to slink away into the night and never speak to Megan again.”

“No.”

“Don’t be so hasty in your decision.” Something in her voice caught his attention.

“What am I supposed to get out of this?”

“Pride for doing the right thing?” Blair asked. “What? Not enough? I know you need money from your investor to keep your firm afloat.” She paused, her eyes piercing his. “I have the connections to find you another investor. One who will support you without the patent.”

He shook his head. “Bullshit.” He threw the offensive paper to the ground. “And even if you could, no deal.”

He turned to head back into the building, but she ran in front of him, blocking his path. “Don’t be so hasty, Josh. I thought you wanted to save those employees of yours.”

“No. Not like this. I love her, Blair. I can’t just walk away from her. Not like this.”

They both gasped at his declaration.

He loved her? But he knew it was true as soon as he said it. As impossible as it seemed, he loved Megan.

“Love her? Who are you trying to fool here? Is this a bargaining chip?”

“What? God, no!” he spat in disgust as he walked away from her. “You can take your fucking deal and ride your broom back to hell.” One persistent thought ran through his head: He had to get to Megan before Blair did.

“Your brother agreed to it.” Blair’s calm voice called out into the night air.

He froze, his eyes sinking closed.

“Oh, yeah. Noah couldn’t sign that deal fast enough.”

He turned around and watched as she squatted and picked up the paper. “You didn’t notice his signature?”

He stomped over and snatched the document from her hands. Sure enough, Noah’s unmistakable scrawl was at the bottom. Fury rushed through him.

Noah had betrayed him.

Again.

Josh ripped the paper in half, then ripped it again and threw it into the air. “Here’s what I think of your deal. And my original suggestion stands—go to hell.”

He marched toward the front door of the restaurant.

“If you hurt Megan, I will rip your balls off myself,” Blair shouted, her voice cracking. It was the first sign of genuine emotion he’d heard from her since she’d staged this little scene.

“Get in line.” Once inside, he raced to the private room and threw open the door. There he was. Noah was still in his seat beside Libby as if nothing had happened, a flirtatious grin on his face while Mitch looked at his phone.

The entire room turned to stare at Josh as he threw the door against the wall. Megan’s eyes widened in surprise. “Josh?” she gasped, getting to her feet. “Are you okay?”

He turned his attention back to Noah. The amusement in his brother’s face crumpled into an expression that clearly read oh shit. Noah stood and started around the table to intercept him.

“Josh, let’s go outside,” Noah said.

Josh strode toward his brother, stopping only when he heard Blair’s voice from behind him. She stood in the doorway now, a smug grin on her face. “Yeah, Josh. Why don’t you and Noah go outside, and I’ll have that chat with Megan.”

Megan glanced between Josh and Blair. “What’s going on?”

So this was what it felt like to really be backed into a corner.

Kevin stood next to his seat, looking ready to implement plan B to stop Megan’s wedding—beat Josh to a bloody pulp—while Gram’s eyes glittered with excitement. Poor Bart looked concerned over the second drama that was clearly about to erupt. Knickers remained shockingly silent, but perhaps that could be credited to the empty wine glass in front of her.

Noah took several cautious steps toward him. “Now, Josh. Let’s go outside and I’ll explain everything.” He started to push Josh toward the door.

But Josh dug in his feet. There was no way he was going to let Blair get to Megan first.

He turned to Noah, a wave of hurt engulfing him out of nowhere. It wasn’t the first time his brother had let him down, of course, but somehow it was the worst.

“How could you?” Josh choked out.

Noah’s eyes filled with some unnamable emotion. “When I signed . . . I didn’t realize . . . I’m sorry, but maybe it’s for the best.”

“Like hell it is,” Josh growled as he swung his fist into his brother’s face.

Noah stumbled backward, holding his hand up to his eye as the room erupted into chaos.

Knickers finally sprang into action. “Someone tell me what’s going on here. Right. This. Instant!” she shouted, standing next to her seat.

Josh turned to Megan and held out his throbbing hand toward her. “Come with me,” he pleaded. “Please.” She took one hesitant step toward him and paused for a moment before quickening her pace.

“Go? Go where?” Knickers screeched.

Blair blocked Megan’s path, but she cast a confused glance to Josh, as though no longer certain what to make of him. Josh hoped to God she realized how wrong she was, but her indecision faded, quickly replaced by cold determination. “Don’t do it, Megan. There are things you don’t know.”

“Megan, please,” Josh called to her, desperate.

Megan looked between the two of them, then shoved Blair to the side. “Sorry, Blair.”

She hurried to him, and he nearly cried with relief as she took his hand. He led her outside and to the passenger’s seat of her Explorer. Then he got into the driver’s seat and took off without a word, wanting to get the two of them as far from reality as possible.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Megan was terrified as Josh drove away from the restaurant, but not for her own safety. She knew he would never harm her. In fact, she had a feeling this was an attempt to save her somehow; she just didn’t know what he was protecting her from.

“Josh, what happened?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he shook his head, his jaw clenching as he swallowed.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it yet. Where do you want to go?”

He was quiet for several moments. “Our spot.”

Our spot. How could two little words fill her with such contentment and hope? “Okay, we can try it. It’s a Friday night in June. It might already be taken.”

“Let’s try anyway.”

His hands relaxed on the wheel. She tried to release some of the tension in her neck. What had Noah done to elicit such rage from his brother? What had Blair done to instigate it? Because this had Blair’s handiwork all over it.

Josh reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing with an intensity that worried her, but she kept silent. There was plenty of time to ask questions. They had all night.

Fate was on their side. The campsite was vacant. The bedding from the previous night was still in the back of the car. After Josh parked, Megan climbed out and went around to the hatch to pull it out. Josh met her and snagged it first, both of them silent as they walked to the bluff. Josh handed the pillows to Megan as he spread out the sleeping bag and sheet, then laid the blanket on the pallet. Megan tossed the pillows down and turned to Josh, waiting.

The whole night had been an overwhelming roller coaster of emotions. Something big was happening, and she was intuitive enough to realize this would be a defining moment in their relationship. Whether they moved forward or called it quits. The thought of losing him was suffocating.

She stared at him, overcome with how attractive he was. He could have his choice of just about any woman—the flirty flight attendant was proof of that—but he was here with her, dealing with her mess and all that it encompassed. Despite the huge hassle, this gorgeous, thoughtful, humorous man had chosen to be with her.

The starry sky was his backdrop, the moonlight giving him an ethereal glow. Pain and regret welled in his eyes, and she did the only thing she could to show him that she was there for him in the way he’d been there for her.

She slowly reached for his cheeks and pulled his mouth to hers.

He grabbed her hands and tried to pull away. “Megan.”

“Shhh.” She slipped her hand around to the back of his head and held him in place, her tongue probing his parted lips.

He groaned, opening his mouth to her as he wrapped his arms around her back, tugging her close. Her tongue teased his, and he released another groan, though she could sense he was holding back from her.

She reached for the buttons of his shirt, unfastening blindly as she continued to kiss him. He pulled back and searched her eyes. When she cupped his cheek and smiled, he opened his mouth as if to say something. Then he stopped and kissed her instead, pulling her lower lip between his own and raking his teeth lightly along the tender flesh. She released a soft whimper, grabbing handfuls of his shirt. His urgency increased as he reached for the zipper on her dress, jerking the fabric down until it pooled at her feet. She resumed her work with his buttons, smiling when he unfastened the last one, clearly impatient for her to finish. She spread his shirt open, her hands skimming his chest. His abdominal muscles tightened under her touch as her hands continued their downward pursuit.

She quickly unfastened both his belt and the zipper on his dress pants, then pushed them over his hips so they fell to his feet.

Her gaze on his face, she stepped backward onto the pallet, wearing nothing but her bra and panties. He dropped his underwear and followed. Reaching a hand behind her head, he pulled her mouth to his, claiming her with more intensity than she’d expected, sending desire shooting through her lower abdomen. His hands reached around and unfastened her bra, tugged it down her arms, then stripped off her panties so they both stood naked in the moonlight.

She wanted this man, and not just his body—although she wanted that too, desperately. She wanted to go home to Seattle and start a life with him.

The whole idea scared the crap out of her. How could she be so certain so quickly? She used to make fun of girls who claimed to fall in love on a first date, but here she was, wanting a fairy-tale ending with a man she’d met three days before. Three days.

But it was Josh. Sweet, gentle Josh who made her laugh. Who made her feel cherished. She trusted him more than she’d ever trusted Jay, and no one was more surprised by any of this than she was.

She wanted this man in every sense of the word, and she intended to let her actions prove it to him. She dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth, her tongue teasing his tip, dancing in circles.

“Oh, God, Megan,” he moaned, grabbing handfuls of her hair as she began to suck the length of him, his grunts and rapid breath sending hot desire through her veins and straight to her pelvis. She coaxed and teased him with her mouth until he put his palms on her head and pulled her back. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, their chests just inches apart.

He stared into her face as his hand caressed her cheek and sank into her hair, grabbing the strands loosely into his fist. His gaze penetrated hers before he gently tilted her chin. He placed a kiss at the corner of her mouth, brushing a line of kisses to her jaw line, then moved down to her neck, finding her sensitive spot and making her squirm.

He pushed her back and gently laid her down on the pallet, her head on the pillow. His knee nudged hers, spreading them apart so he could kneel between them. She watched him as he lowered himself over her. The lust and passion in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine, straight to her core.

His face lowered to her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there. His tongue worked circles down her sternum before easing to her breast to tease her nipple. Then he took it into his teeth.

She lay panting and breathless, lifting her hips in involuntary need, but he moved to her other breast, continuing his exquisite torture. A light breeze swept over her wet skin, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. His mouth moved lower, over the swell of her breasts. His tongue and lips licked and sucked a path down her abdomen, setting her skin on fire with need. He continued his torturous descent to her pelvis, her inner thigh.

He lifted her hips, cradling her ass cheeks in his palms as his face hovered over her folds, his warm breath sending a tingling jolt into her lower abdomen. By the time his tongue started to caress her, she cried out with relief, surprised by the intensity of the pleasure shooting through her.

She arched her back, lifting into him, trying to stifle her moans. After a minute of his sweet torture, she blindly grasped his hair and pulled him up, sure she’d come if he didn’t stop, and she wanted to do that when he was inside her. His lifted his head and slid his chest up her abdomen, his chest hair brushing over her sensitive nipples, making her gasp and press her groin into him.

He rested his weight on his elbow next to her head, looking down at her as she fought to catch her breath. His hand brushed several strands of hair from her cheek. Then he leaned in to kiss her, soft and gentle, his tongue skimming her long bottom lip, the taste of her on his mouth.

Wild with need, she lifted her hips, the movement pressing his erection into her thigh. She took control of the kiss, frantic for him and for release. His hand moved down and brushed her nipple with his thumb.

Megan sucked in her breath as her back arched in desire.

“Josh,” she cried out, that one word channeling the force of her raw desire.

Moving his hand under her ass, Josh lifted her up, then teased her entrance with the tip of his erection.

She moved under him, encouraging him to take her completely. His palm covered her hand next to her head, and he laced their fingers together before pushing into her, moving with agonizing slowness.

The ache for release was overwhelming as he pulled out and repeated his slow thrust. “Josh.”

He moved his hips more quickly, leaning down to kiss her as she gasped in pleasure and relief. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she tilted her hips up to take him deeper.

The pressure built until she shattered, crying out his name. He covered her mouth with his, muffling her sounds. He was close behind, thrusting several more times before he pushed deep inside her and groaned into her mouth. Her arms wrapped around his upper back, holding him close, her wordless way of telling him that she never wanted this moment to end.

He gently eased her hips down to the pallet, staying on top of her. As he kissed her, slow and deep, Megan realized she’d never felt so connected to anyone in her life.

“Don’t leave me tomorrow,” she whispered.

“I will never willingly leave you, Megan.”

She studied his face. “What does that mean?”

“You might change your mind about me.”

“Why would I do that?”

He gave her a soft smile, but it was full of sadness.

“Does this have to do with what happened with Blair and Noah at the restaurant?”

Surprise flickered on his face, and he rolled to his side, bringing her with him. He grabbed the blanket next to him and flipped it over to cover them both to their waists.

“What do you know about it?” he finally asked.

“Nothing. Only that Noah must have done something terrible to make you hit him like that, and I suspect Blair instigated the whole thing since she was hot on your heels when you came back from the restroom.”

His body stiffened below her. “Noah betrayed me.”

What could that mean? “Does this have to do with your business decision or me?”

His hand tangled in her hair and tightened. “Both.”

Both? “And Blair was involved.”

Wariness filled his eyes. “She loves you, Megan. She’s going to do what she thinks she needs to do to keep you safe.”

Megan pushed up on her elbow. “What did she do?”

A gentle smile lit up his eyes and his hold on her hair loosened, but he continued to play with the loose strands. “It doesn’t matter. She’ll tell you tomorrow, I’m sure.” He searched her eyes. “I thought about talking to you about this first, but I’ve decided to let her. I know her version, and you know most of mine. All I ask is that you think of what we have—what I’m so desperate to keep—before you make up your mind.”

What was he talking about?

“But if you decide you believe me and you believe that I care about you, I still want to go through with the ceremony tomorrow. Let’s give Knickers her last hurrah.”

“You really want to go through with the wedding?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’ll stick with the plan and tell her I lost the marriage license. You’ll be off the hook, but Knickers will still get her fancy party. We’ll figure this out—you and me—later.”

It was still a crazy idea, but for some reason it didn’t seem so crazy anymore. She would do it for him. “Okay.”

He took her hand in his. “I’ll take you home in the morning, and I’ll be at the gardens in time to do my part tomorrow afternoon. If you decide to go through with it, I want to talk to you before the wedding, before you go down the aisle.”

“But—”

“Please.”

“Knickers will have a fit if she knows you’ve seen me in my dress before the wedding,” she said, trying to look serious. It didn’t last; her face broke out into a huge grin. “Count me in.”

A smile spread across his face. “That’s my girl.”

She lay her head on his chest, desperately hoping she really was.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Megan and Josh spent the night under the stars, making love until the sun rose. They went for breakfast before he drove her back to her parents’ house.

He turned to face her once they were parked in the driveway. “I feel like I should walk you to the door,” he teased, taking her hand in his.

She chuckled. “Trust me, you don’t want to do that right now.”

His smile fell. “Then maybe I should go with you. You shouldn’t have to deal with the fallout from last night on your own.”

She leaned over and kissed him, her lips lingering on his. “I love that you want to protect me from my mother. But I think it’s time I started standing up for myself.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to go through with the wedding?”

She paused, studying his face. “No, as strange as it sounds, now that I’m used to the idea, I kind of want to do it. What about you?”

He didn’t answer her for several seconds. “I want what you want, Megan. From here on out, you’re calling all the shots. You want to have the wedding, we’ll do it. If you change your mind and decide to say screw it all and hop on a plane back to Seattle, we can do that, too.” He hesitated and swallowed. “And if you decide you don’t want to see me again, you only have to text me and tell me to go to hell.”

She forced a smile. “I can’t break it off. I don’t have your number.”

How could that be? How could she have experienced so much with this man and still not have his cell phone number? Maybe because they had spent nearly every minute together.

“Give me your phone.”

She dug it out of her purse and turned it on, entering her passcode before she handed it to him.

He entered his number and gave the phone back to her. “See you at our wedding.”

She reached for the door handle, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back, kissing her as though he was never going to see her again. “Josh, you’re scaring me.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m scared, Meggie.”

“Tell me what Blair’s going to tell me.”

He shook his head. “I want you to decide for yourself.”

She got out and walked to the house, checking her phone before she walked through the door—there were multiple missed calls and voice mails from her mother, as well as calls, texts, and messages from Blair, Libby, and her brother. And there was one text from Jay.

Call me.

She pressed delete. She never wanted to hear from that asshole again.

The front door opened before her hand could reach the knob.

“Where have you been?” Her mother’s voice was icy. “I’ve been worried sick about you. I was about to call the police.”

“The police? Why would you call the police?”

“Josh punched his brother in the face, then dragged you off to God-knows-where. I was frightened for you, Megan . . .” Her mother’s voice broke.

Oh, God. She really had been worried.

Megan pushed her shock aside and wrapped her mother in a hug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m fine. We both just needed to get away. I was getting cold feet, and Josh knew I needed some time alone with him to sort everything out.”

She shut the door behind her, then hastened her mother into the living room, where Gram sat munching from a box of fiber cereal.

They’d only just walked in when Kevin stalked in from the kitchen, a coffee cup in his hand. He set it down on the end table next to the sofa.

“Did he threaten you?” he demanded of her, the veins on his neck bulging.

Megan released her hold on her mother and turned to look at Kevin. “What? No!”

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Gram said, still crunching on her cereal. “So Megan wanted to have one last night as a single woman.” She grabbed another handful. “You can’t blame her for wanting wild, single sex.”

Knickers’ face turned beet-red. “Mother!”

“Gram,” Megan laughed. “I don’t think it counts if you’re having wild, single sex with the man you’re marrying.”

Kevin looked even angrier. “I do not want to hear about my little sister’s wild sex. Especially with that violent asshole.”

She shook her head. “Josh would never hurt me. His brother did something related to their business that he saw as a betrayal.”

“Their business?” he asked, incredulous. “I thought he was an investment banker. Does he own the freaking bank?”

Oh, crap.

Gram continued, oblivious to the change in topic. “I heard something on the news about how all you kids are into BS stuff because of that Fifty Shades of Steele book. I read it, you know.” She lifted her eyebrows at Megan, grabbing another handful of cereal. “Are you and Josh into whips and colored rooms?”

“Mother!” Knickers gasped in shock.

Megan began to laugh, despite her horror. She cast a glance at Kevin, who looked close to losing his breakfast. “It’s BDSM, not BS, although some people might call it that, too.” She tried to get serious. “You really don’t expect me to discuss my sex life with Josh in front of my mother, do you?”

Gram shoved some of the cereal into her mouth. “It might loosen her up. Maybe she and your father should try it.”

“Gram!” Kevin shouted.

She shrugged, reaching into the box again. “I’m just saying a little spice in the bedroom might loosen her up. Or she could put some of those contraptions in the basement. There’s room for a dungeon down there.”

Megan burst into laughter.

“Although I’m worried Bart might get carpal tunnel if he uses a whip.” Gram lifted up her hand and began to flick her wrist, mimicking the motion.

“Mother!” Knickers shouted.

Gram gave one last wave of her hand, and cereal went flying across the room, a piece of it hitting Knickers in the face.

“Oww!” she screamed, covering her face. “My eye.”

“Mom,” Megan groaned. “Don’t be so dramatic. It was a piece of cereal.”

“It was a piece of cereal that hit my eye.” She staggered past a chair as tears streamed down her cheek. “I need to wash it out.” But as she stumbled across the floor, her foot slid on a piece of loose cereal on the wood slats, and she knocked her shoulder into the kitchen doorjamb. Releasing a loud cry, she started to fall.

Kevin hurried over to her to keep her on her feet, but she cried out again.

“Mom?” Megan asked, running over to her. “Are you okay?”

But as soon as she reached her, she knew she wasn’t okay. Her shoulder was sticking out at a weird angle. “Dad!” she shouted, then looked up at Kevin. “Where’s Dad?”

Kevin’s eyes bugged out and his face turned pale. “I . . . I . . .”

Megan groaned. “Don’t you wimp out on me and pass out, Kevin. I haven’t forgotten what happened when we were kids and I needed stitches in my hand.”

“If you pass out, fall that way,” Gram said, waving her hand to show him where to fall. More cereal spread across the floor. “It would be better if your head hits the overstuffed chair than the coffee table.”

“Put that cereal away!” Kevin shouted, probably in an attempt to take attention off himself. “It’s a deadly weapon!”

“Nobody’s passing out,” Knickers said through gritted teeth. “And your father’s at the store getting me a pair of pantyhose.”

“No one wears pantyhose anymore, Mom,” Megan said as she led her mother to a chair.

“I wear pantyhose.”

“I rest my case. Kevin,” she said, turning to look at him once their mother was settled. “Call Dad. We have to take her to the hospital. I’d do it, but Josh has my car.”

Kevin looked livid. “You gave him your car?”

“He has to get to the church somehow. Besides, in ten hours or so, it’ll be his car, too.”

Kevin scowled at the reminder, then glanced at his mother and turned a shade of pale gray.

Megan’s mother tried to wave her hand and cried out in pain. She glanced up at Megan with one eye. The other was bright red and squinted shut. “No one is going to the hospital.”

“Mom! Your shoulder looks like a Barbie doll part popped out of it socket. You have to go to the hospital.”

“I don’t have time for that. There’s too much to do.”

Megan glared at Kevin. “Call Dad!”

He stood next to the front door, peering through the side window and looking like he was preparing to bolt. “I don’t have to. His car just pulled up.”

Moments later, the front door opened and Megan’s father stood in the doorway, his gaze landing on the group. “What happened?”

“Mom dislocated her shoulder. She needs to go the hospital.”

Her mother shook her head, gritting her teeth. “I don’t have time to go to the hospital.”

Bart took one look at his wife’s shoulder, and his face turned ashen.

“You can’t pass out, Dad!”

Her mother narrowed her one good eye. Leave it to her to make a one-eyed squint look intimidating. “The women are the strong ones in the Vandemeer family.”

Her father took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Taking in his pale complexion, Megan wasn’t so sure. “We have to get her to the hospital.”

“I’m not—” Megan’s mom started to say.

“Yes, you are!” Megan shouted. “Now shut up and come out to the car with us.”

Her mother looked shocked, as did everyone else in the room. No one spoke to Nicole Vandemeer that way.

“Now is not the time to be stubborn! If you try to go to the wedding like this, you’ll gross everyone out. If you go to the hospital now, you’ll probably be there in time to help me get dressed.”

“I . . . okay.”

Megan blinked, sure she’d heard her mother wrong, but decided to trust her hallucination. “Okay, then. Dad and Kevin, get her to the car. Mom, what else needs to be done for the wedding?”

As her father and brother lifted the unwilling invalid out of her chair and led her to the door, Megan walked beside them.

Knickers grimaced as she hobbled along with their support. “We need to make sure the cake gets delivered and that the orchestra sets up on the west side and not the east. The staff at the gardens can handle both of those things. Just make sure everything goes according to plan.”

“I can do that.”

“You need to be at the church two and a half hours early. It’s in the itinerary, but I know you didn’t read it.”

For once, Megan wished she had.

“The hairdresser will be there at one.” They led her out the door and down the sidewalk. “Be sure to eat, Megan. You’ll probably be too excited and nervous to eat, but otherwise you’ll get lightheaded standing up there so long for the ceremony.”

“Okay, Mom.”

As Bart sprinted around the car to climb into the driver’s seat, Kevin helped Megan’s mom get settled into the passenger’s seat. She gripped Megan’s hand. “I’m so sorry, honey. I wanted this day to be perfect for you, but I’ve ruined everything.”

Megan squatted next to her. “You didn’t ruin anything, Mom. It is going to be perfect. I promise.”

She nodded, tears now streaming from her good eye, too.

Megan gave her a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kevin and Megan watched the car drive away, both in shock.

“Did what I think just happened really happen?” Kevin asked.

“Which part?”

“The whole convoluted mess.”

“Yep.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the house. “Come on, we have work to do.”

“We?”

“You don’t think I can do everything by myself, do you?”

“So you’re really going to marry this guy?”

She stopped on the front porch, a step up from him, putting him at eye level. “I know you’re looking out for me, and you have no idea how wonderful that makes me feel, but Josh isn’t the man you think he is. Take everything you knew about Jay Connors from all my insinuations and unsaid truths and toss them out the window. Josh is not that man.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“I hope to explain it to you later, but for now you’ll have to trust me.” She took a deep breath, then poked her finger into his chest. “I’m marrying Josh this afternoon, so let this evil plot to stop my wedding end now.”

“Damn straight,” Gram said from the sofa through the open front door.

Megan leaned toward him and whispered, “And you’re in charge of making sure Gram wears clothes to the wedding.”

“Eww!”

“And it has to be that pink suit Mom picked out. I need a shower.” She headed for the staircase as he continued his protests and shut herself in her room, feeling better about herself than she had in a long time. While she was in the shower, washing her hair and reliving the shower she’d taken with Josh, a new thought occurred to her. If she was actually going to go through with this wedding, she should wear the dress she wanted . . . no matter how much of her hard-earned money she had to spend on it. When she finished, she toweled off and pulled up the bridal shop’s number on her cell phone.

“Hi,” she said when the salesperson answered. “This is Megan Vandemeer. I came in a couple of times this week to try on my dress and get alterations.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember you. Your mother is the dragon lady.”

Megan hesitated. She understood why the woman felt that way, but after seeing a more human side to her mother, she felt indignant on her behalf. “Yeah,” she finally said. “That’s her . . . Anyway, my mother changed my original dress order.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Okaaay . . .” Megan took a deep breath. “Do you know if it’s still there? I’d like to buy it.”

“But you already have a dress. I was assured you picked it up yesterday.”

“I know, but I want to know if you have the other one. I realize I can’t exchange it. I just want to buy it.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Vandemeer,” the salesperson said, her voice thick with regret. “We sold it.”

Megan let the words sink in. “Are you sure? I just tried it on yesterday.”

“Oh, yes. That dress is pretty famous here. It was sold this morning.”

This morning? Why hadn’t she thought to buy it yesterday? But all the regret in the world wouldn’t change the fact that the dress was gone. “Okay. Well . . . thank you.”

“Have a good day,” the salesperson said before she hung up.

Megan sat down on the edge of her bed. Sold. It was such a final word, but she told herself not to get upset. She was determined to make this the best fake wedding ever. It sure was expensive enough to qualify.

Blair continued to call her multiple times. She knew avoiding the calls wasn’t the best idea, but she was terrified to hear what her friend had to say and wanted to put off the conversation for as long as possible.

Megan fed them all sandwiches that her mother had prepared and stored in the refrigerator. Then she and Kevin loaded his car with her wedding dress, shoes, and a change of clothes for after the reception. She wondered if she’d forgotten anything and suddenly wished her mother were around to oversee it all. The thought shocked her enough that she fumbled with the door handle as she put Gram in the front passenger seat.

Megan was squished into the back seat next to the monstrous dress bag, which inevitably made her think of her mother. Her dad had called not long ago to tell them her mother hadn’t even been seen by a doctor yet, and now Megan was worried her parents wouldn’t make the wedding at all.

They rode in silence all the way to the gardens, even Gram staying remarkably quiet. When they pulled into the back parking lot, Kevin helped Gram out as Megan gathered her things. As soon as she had everything, she started toward the bridal changing room.

“Megs, wait up,” a gruff voice called out from behind her.

Butterflies flapped in her stomach. “I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Kevin.”

He shook his head. “No more fighting.”

“Really?”

“Well . . .” A teasing grin lit up his face. “Not all fighting.”

She grinned back. “Good.”

“I just wanted you to know that I’ve thought about what you said, and I’ve decided to respect your decision. If you want to marry that asshat, I’ll let you.”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said.” She laughed. “But I’ll take it.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks.”

She took off for the dressing room, one of the rooms in the walk-out basement under the chapel, grateful to discover she was the first to arrive. After her morning, she needed a few moments to herself.

The room was furnished with a sofa and several wingback chairs that faced a wall of windows overlooking the flowering gardens. A full-length mirror stood in one corner, and Megan knew the door across the room led to a bathroom. She sat in one of the wingback chairs and stared out a window, trying to let the peaceful setting settle her unrest.

“Megan?”

She turned around to see Gram standing in the doorway. She looked older than usual in the Pepto-Bismol suit Knickers had chosen.

“Can I come in?”

Megan hopped out of her seat and crossed the room. “Gram. Of course. I’m glad you’re here.” She helped the older woman into the chair next to hers, and they sat together, taking in the view.

“It’s a beautiful day for your wedding,” Gram finally said.

“Isn’t it?” Megan sighed. The sun shone bright in the sky, and the temperature was comfortable in the shade, which would be perfect for the outdoor reception later. She almost wished it were for real.

Gram released a sigh. “I’m sorry I ruined everything for you. Your mother . . .”

Megan hugged her grandmother’s arm and leaned her head on her shoulder. “Good heavens, Gram, you didn’t ruin anything. Think of the stories we’ll tell.”

Gram chuckled. “Your mother will never let me live it down.”

“True,” Megan laughed. “And it will be awesome.”

“I know you two have your differences, but a girl should have her mother with her on her wedding day.”

“She’ll get here in time. I know it.”

The older woman fingered her pearls, then smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her skirt. “There’s a reason your mother acts this way, you know.”

Megan sat up and turned to face the older woman, who patted her hand.

“I kept hoping she’d tell you herself one day, but she never did. She can hardly admit it to herself.” She swung her gaze to the gardens. “You wonder why you never saw your Aunt Heather again . . . I know your mother told you some ridiculous story about a fight over toilet paper.” Her mouth lifted into a weak smile.

Megan took her grandmother’s hand in her own, sensing what she had to tell her would be bigger than she ever anticipated.

“It wasn’t true, of course. Heather was always interested in your father, but he only had eyes for your mother. I hoped Heather would get over her infatuation, and I honestly thought it had died down. But one day when you were eleven, your mother came home and found your father and Heather together.”

“Together?” Megan asked in confusion. Then horrified understanding set in. “Oh, no.”

Gram nodded. “They were in your mother’s bed.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Your mother was devastated. She saw it as the ultimate betrayal. Her sister and her husband in her own bed. You and Kevin came and stayed with your grandpa and me for a week, remember?”

“Yeah . . .”

“That’s when it happened. Your mother didn’t take it well, as you can imagine. She and your father vowed to stay together, and your father was truly sorry. He did his best to make it up to her, giving her anything and everything she wanted. He still does. But Nicole was certain he’d cheated on her because she wasn’t enough. She’d always thought Heather was the prettier of the two of them. Since that day, she’s tried her best to be perfect, and she’s made herself and everyone around her miserable in the process.”

Megan closed her eyes, fighting back tears. “I can’t believe Daddy cheated on her.”

“He’s always sworn it was a one-time thing, and I believe him. Heather was a lot like your Libby.”

Megan started to protest, but Gram squeezed her hand. “No, Libby would never try to steal another woman’s husband, especially from someone she cares about. But Libby catches men’s attention without even trying.” She sighed. “Heather was like that, too. Only, she had no scruples. Bart wasn’t the first married man she went after, and I’m sure he wasn’t the last. As her mother, I tried to ignore it for many years. Until Nicole.” She was silent for a moment. “Heather had tried to snag your father since your mother first brought him home. I’m sure she just happened to catch him at a weak moment.” Her voice turned stern. “I’m in no way condoning what your father did, but I do believe he regretted it.”

“Yeah, because he was caught,” Megan said in disgust.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But he truly loves your mother.”

“Poor Mom.” She could sympathize with her mother after Jay’s betrayal. Now she wished she’d come clean weeks ago. Her mother would have probably understood. “And she really hasn’t spoken to Aunt Heather since?”

“No, and Heather died in an accident several years ago, so they never had a chance to reconcile.” She released a heavy sigh. “She loves you, Megan. She just has a hard time letting anyone close now. She’s always waiting for them to betray her.”

Had her mother viewed many of Megan’s decisions as betrayals?

“And please don’t hold this against your father. Even though this is news to you, it happened nearly twenty years ago. Water under the bridge for both of them. Trust me, he’s more than paid for his crime.” Gram climbed to her feet, releasing a groan. “I didn’t get a chance to do my au naturel yoga yesterday, and today I’m all stiff.”

Megan’s mouth lifted in a small grin despite her emotional stew.

“Megan.” Gram turned and paused. “The boy you’re marrying today is better than the one you were supposed to marry.”

Megan stood, sure she’d heard her grandmother wrong. “What?”

She gave Megan an ornery grin. “I know that man isn’t Jay Connors. I talked to that idiot several months ago on the phone. The man you’re marrying today isn’t him.”

Megan started to protest, but what was the point? “How long have you known?” she asked in shock.

“Since I met him at the airport.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

Gram shrugged, then hobbled to the door. “I wanted to see how it played out.” She paused at the doorway. “I could tell he was a good man, and I figured you’d come clean eventually.”

“We’re not really getting married, Gram. It’s all a misunderstanding. I was afraid to tell Mom I broke up with Jay. She’d spent so much money—”

“You don’t have to explain. But I hope you don’t give that boy up after this wedding.” She winked. “He does have a very nice patootie.”

Megan started to assure her that she had no plans to let Josh go, then stopped herself. She needed to save the assurances for after Blair dropped her bombshell.

She only hoped her heart wasn’t blown to pieces when Blair was done.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Oh, Megan,” Libby gushed. “You’re beautiful.”

Megan stared at her reflection. Libby had helped with her makeup, and the hairdresser had just finished her hair. It wasn’t the up-do her mother had wanted. The front was pulled into a loose knot at the base of her neck, and the rest of her hair tumbled in soft curls down her back. “I’m not even wearing my dress yet.”

“What if your mom doesn’t get here in time?”

Megan chuckled, but her stomach twisted with nerves. “She’ll be here. Dad says she’s raising holy hell, insisting it shouldn’t take so long to fix a dislocated shoulder and a scratched cornea.”

It had been hard to talk to her dad on the phone without confronting him, but she’d forced herself to set her anger aside. She knew without a doubt he loved her mother—his voice practically broadcast it as he relayed Nicole’s current status—and was mature enough to realize things weren’t always black and white. She only had to look at her own mess to see that. Still, a new heaviness had settled over her heart. Her father wasn’t the perfect man she’d always believed him to be.

“Do you think she’ll really wear an eyepatch?” Libby asked.

“Maybe she’s wishing she’d picked a pirate wedding theme instead.”

Libby laughed. “If anyone can pull off pirate chic, your mother can.”

“I know.” Megan cast a glance at the door, feeling heavy-hearted. “I don’t think Blair’s coming.”

Libby put her hands on Megan’s upper arms. “Blair will show up. We all made a promise to each other.”

“The pact.”

“Yes, the wedding pact. We promised we would be married by the time we were thirty. We’d be in each other’s weddings, and we’d be the first ones to see each other in our dresses on our wedding days.”

“We were nine years old, Libby.”

“But it still means something to us all, whether she admits it or not. She’ll be here.”

“It’s almost time to get dressed.” Megan’s nerves were getting the best of her. “She hates me. I haven’t answered any of her calls today, and I wouldn’t listen to her last night. She’s not coming.”

Libby gave her a side hug. “She doesn’t hate you. Give her a few minutes. She’ll be here.”

They were silent for a few moments, and Megan started to pace. Finally, she stopped and turned to Libby. “Aren’t you wondering why Josh and I are going through with this wedding?”

“No.”

“Really?”

Libby smiled. “No, this feels right. You feel it too, or you wouldn’t be here right now. You and Josh are perfect for each other.”

“But Blair would say—” Megan lowered her voice to a growl, “—‘then go on a date, Megan. Don’t do something rash, like marrying someone you barely know.’”

The door swung open. “I don’t sound anything like that,” Blair said, marching through the doorway with a brisk stride, an enormous dress bag slung over her shoulder. “My voice isn’t anywhere near that deep. Although the rest is reasonably accurate.”

“Blair.” Megan clutched her hands in front of her, feeling like she was about to puke.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls, texts, emails, voice mails, and carrier pigeons, Megs.”

Blair not only showed up, but also used her nickname. Megan grinned. “I never got the carrier pigeons.”

“Ah-ha!” Blair pointed at her. “You just admitted that you received and ignored the other three.”

“You’re playing the role of an attorney, Blair. I need you here as my friend.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tolerate the attorney for a little while longer, because there’s something I need to talk to you about. If you feel like going through with this preposterous endeavor once I’ve said my piece, I will be here for you one hundred percent.”

Tears stung Megan’s eyes. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” She hung the garment bag on the rack that held Megan’s wedding dress, spread out in all its bedazzled organza glory. Blair stopped in her tracks as she took in the sight of it, her mouth gaping. She pointed to the dress, then Megan, then back at the dress. “Really?”

Megan shrugged, over it all ready. “Knickers.”

Blair looked around. “Where is she anyway? I expected to find her here with a riding crop and a whistle to keep us malcontents in line.”

Libby snickered. “I haven’t heard her call us malcontents for years.”

“She’s not here. And after Gram asked me earlier today if Josh and I were into BDSM, I don’t want to hear another mention of whips or crops for a very long time.” Megan shuddered. “She’s at the hospital with a dislocated shoulder and a scratched cornea. She’ll be here soon.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I’m more interested in finding out how Gram knows about BDSM,” Libby said.

Megan rolled her eyes. “She says she read Fifty Shades of Grey.”

Libby burst out laughing. “That explains so much.”

“Tell me about it,” Megan grumbled, her nerves pinging with anxiety. She was ready to seal her fate.

Blair lifted her eyebrows. “What happened to your mother?”

Megan sighed. “It’s a long story, but I’m more interested in the story you have to tell me. I’m ready to hear it now.” When Blair blinked in surprise, Megan added, “I know you have something important to say. Josh told me that much, but not the details. You investigated him, didn’t you? After I expressly ordered you not to.”

All the fight left Blair, who looked more vulnerable than Megan had seen her in years. “What would you have me do, Megan? I wasn’t willing to stand by and watch you get hurt by one more jerk, especially when the last one still can’t seem to take no for an answer. I swear, if Jay makes one more annoying call . . .”

“What are you talking about?”

“That man’s been calling me nonstop since Friday morning. Finally, after your fiasco of a rehearsal dinner last night, I told him you were in Kansas City, which meant you couldn’t go out to dinner with him so he should stop calling me. To his credit, he seemed genuinely surprised to hear you were here. I said the only way you would even fathom going out with him was if he hopped on a plane, found you here in KC, and groveled at your feet. Thank God, that seemed to do the trick, and my phone has been mercifully silent ever since.”

“Why would you tell him that? I wouldn’t go out with him if he were the last man on earth. Especially after meeting Josh.”

“Yeah . . . well, you shouldn’t put Josh on a pedestal just yet.” She put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “What did he tell you?”

“I told you. He didn’t tell me anything. I figured out you had something to do with it after he punched his brother—oh, God!” she said, realization hitting her. “I have no idea where Noah is or where he stayed last night.”

Libby’s mouth contorted. “I know the answer to both of those questions.”

Megan froze, narrowing her eyes. “How do you know?”

“You didn’t!” Blair gasped.

Libby’s back stiffened in defense. “What? He didn’t have anywhere to go, and he was really upset.”

“Libby!” Blair said. “What about Mitch?”

“What about him?” she asked in genuine confusion. “Oh! You think—no! I didn’t cheat on Mitch.” Disgust washed over her face. “Is that really what you think of me?”

“There was that one time . . .” Blair’s voice trailed off.

“I was a kid—barely nineteen—and he told me that he and his girlfriend had broken up. He was cheating on his girlfriend, but I would never purposely cheat. Especially after Megan found that prick . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Megan grabbed Libby’s hand. “It’s okay, Libby. I’m over it. I’m thankful for it. Otherwise, I might be marrying said prick now.” She gave a shudder.

“There’s nothing between me and Noah. He just needed a friend last night.”

“A friend?” Blair asked, turning her attention to Libby. “That kind of guy doesn’t do friends.”

“Yeah, I know,” Libby said. “That’s what was so confusing. We stayed up almost all night talking.” She widened her eyes, as if sensing they were about to pounce on her. “What? It’s true. And he never once made a move on me. Honestly, I think he’s lonely.”

Blair stared at her, speechless for several seconds before shaking her head. “Lonely? Whatever. One McMillan man at a time.” She turned her gaze to Megan. “There are a few things you need to know. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you everything before I could get to you.”

“No, Blair,” Megan said, her tone brisk. “He told me to listen to what you had to say, then make up my own mind.”

Blair sighed. “He’s playing you, Megs.”

“No, Blair. He trusts my judgment. He said if I decide I don’t want to see him again, he’ll respect my choice.” She took a deep breath. “So tell me.”

Blair cast a glance toward the still-silent Libby.

“Libby can stay,” Megan said. “She’s part of this, too.”

“I think you should sit.” Megan obeyed and fought her rising nausea as Blair told her about the patent, Josh’s business, and how she wasn’t sure it was a coincidence that he’d sat next to her on the plane. And when she was finished, all three women sat in silence.

Megan stood and wandered over to the window, looking out at the flowering gardens. Parts of it made sense. She knew Josh’s company was in trouble. He’d told her that he had two choices—either his employees would lose their jobs, or he’d hurt someone he cared about.

She had thought that someone was Noah. Turns out it was her.

So why had he continued with this charade?

Because he hadn’t stolen the information he needed yet.

If he left, he couldn’t look for it. She felt like an idiot when she realized she’d given her father’s password to him, providing him with carte blanche to all of her father’s electronic files. What had she done?

She was going to throw up.

Then she thought about the man she’d gotten to know—a man who would never steal something for personal gain. He had too much integrity. It might not look that way, since he’d helped her for reasons that weren’t on the up and up, but she couldn’t ignore how he’d refused to have sex with her that first night. He’d wanted to—badly—but he’d stopped because he was afraid of hurting her.

But what about his feelings now? When she examined every minute they’d spent together, she kept coming up with the same answer. What he felt for her—what they felt for each other—was genuine.

“Why was he so upset with Noah?” she finally asked, turning to face Blair.

“How should I know?”

Megan stared at her, lifting her eyebrows. “Try again. I know you had a part in it.”

“Why would I interfere with their relationship?”

“Tell me.”

Blair released a sigh. “You know how much I love you, Megan. I may not say it often, but I figure actions speak louder than words. So I acted.”

“What did you do?” Her words were tightly controlled.

“I had a document prepared. After I presented my key evidence, I gave Josh an out. I found another investor to take the original one’s place—one of my divorce clients who received a very large settlement—but if he wanted my help, he had to promise to leave you and never speak to you again.”

Megan felt lightheaded. “You did what?”

“He refused to sign it. I know he wants that patent, but if he doesn’t have the money by next week, he’ll have to shut down. For all his whining about how devastating it would be to his employees if he had to shut his doors, he never even stopped to consider it.”

Megan put her hand on the back of her chair to help support her shaking legs. “He gave up his business for me.”

Blair scowled. “I know it looks that way, but you don’t know that.”

Megan shook her head. “No, Blair. I do. I know how desperately he wants to save his employees. He came on this trip for no other reason. And give me a break, there’s no way he could have arranged to sit beside me on that plane unless he hacked the airline. He said he left this trip up to fate, and sitting by me was definitely fate. He cares about me. I know it.” Her voice broke. “If he didn’t, he would have signed that document and gone with the sure thing.” She pressed her fingertips to her temple. “This morning he told me it was up to me if I wanted to move forward with the wedding . . . and with him. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t want to be with me.” She looked up at her friend. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Blair’s mouth twisted as she considered her words. “I admit that it confused me when he tore up the document. While I expected a halfhearted denial, I didn’t think he would act so offended.”

Megan lifted her chin. “Why was he so furious with Noah?”

Guilt washed over Blair’s face. “Noah had already signed the document. I caught him before the rehearsal.”

Megan sat in the chair, feeling even more lightheaded. “Oh, Blair. What have you done?” She glanced at Libby, who was sitting on the other side of the room, to gauge her reaction. There was a strange look on her friend’s face, and when she didn’t say a word, Megan narrowed her eyes. “You already knew. That’s what you talked to Noah about all night.”

Libby gave a tiny shrug. “He was upset. When he signed it, he had no idea that Josh was in love with you.”

Megan bolted out of her chair. “He’s what?”

Libby’s eyebrows rose. “You didn’t know he’s in love with you?”

“No . . .”

Blair snorted. “Hell, he told me himself last night when he tore up the paper. I didn’t buy it when he told me, thinking it was some way to outmaneuver me. But now I’m reconsidering, and I’m more cynical than the two of you put together. Supposing there are no other mitigating circumstances, what man gives up his family legacy for a woman he kind of likes?”

“Oh, God. I have to talk to him.” Megan bolted for the door, but Blair blocked her path.

“Wait. He stopped me when I was on my way in here.”

“What? He’s here?”

Blair rolled her eyes. “Of course he’s here. He said if you were still open to going through with this after I talked to you, he wanted me to give you something from him.”

“And you agreed?” Megan asked in shock.

Blair shrugged, looking irritated. “I have to admit, before I talked to him, I was convinced he was guilty as hell. But after I talked to him . . . I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I see some flaws in my theory.”

“What does that mean?” Libby prodded.

Blair scowled, looking aggrieved. “I may have been wrong.”

“What?” Libby teased. “The all-knowing Blair might have been wrong?”

Megan shook her head. “Get back to the present part.”

“It’s out in the hall. Like I said, he asked me to give it to you if you didn’t hate him after hearing my version of events.”

“And you agreed?”

She shrugged. “I’m not entirely cold-blooded, and like I said, there were some holes in my theory.” She left the room and came back with a white box that was almost as big as she was. “If I’d known it would be this hard to carry, I would have asked for a delivery fee.”

“What is it?” Megan asked, pushing makeup aside on the large table to make room for the box.

“No idea. I’m just the delivery person. Open it and find out.”

Megan’s hand shook as she tugged on the end of the giant white bow and pulled it loose. When she lifted off the lid, she gasped. “It’s my dress,” she whispered in shock.

“What dress?” Blair asked, peeking around her.

“Her original dress,” Libby gasped in awe. “But how? Knickers canceled the order.”

“They said it was too late to cancel it. So both were delivered to the store, but they wouldn’t exchange it.”

A card sat on top, which she pulled out to read.

Meggie

I know how much this dress means to you. If you decide to go through with the wedding, you should feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, although it doesn’t matter to me what you wear—you are already the most beautiful woman in the world.

Josh

Libby picked up the small veil on top. “That is the most romantic thing ever.”

Megan grabbed the corners of the dress and lifted it out of the box. “I can’t believe he bought my dress.”

Blair grunted. “This still doesn’t mean he’s innocent.”

“Yeah,” Libby mumbled. “Because a guy who’s trying to scam her would obviously buy her a three-thousand-dollar wedding dress.”

Megan held it in front of her, studying her reflection. “I can’t believe he did this.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Libby asked, putting the veil back in the box. “Let’s get you dressed. There’s less than an hour until the wedding.”

Twenty minutes later, Libby and Blair were dressed in their pink puffed monstrosities, arranging Megan’s veil in her hair. They stepped back and studied her.

Tears filled Libby’s eyes. “I can’t believe you’re getting married.”

“I’m not really getting married,” Megan gushed out.

“It looks like you are from where I’m standing,” Blair said.

“It’s not real. It’s all for Knickers, and she’s not even here to enjoy it.”

Libby squeezed her arm. “She’ll be here, Megs. Wild horses couldn’t keep her away.”

There was a knock at the door, and Blair went to answer it, poking her head through the opening. She turned around with a scowl. “He wants to talk to you.” A tiny grin broke through her tough exterior. “And I suppose the fact you’re wearing the wedding dress means you want to talk to him, too.” Blair tugged on Libby’s pink organza. “By the way, it’s not fair that you got to dump the fairy princess dress and we’re still stuck with ours.” Her eyes lit up with a devilish gleam. “But I’m getting married soon, too, and paybacks are a bitch.”

They filed out of the room, leaving the door open to reveal Josh. He was gorgeous. He wore the black tux he’d tried on the day before, but today he looked different. Nervous, but there was something else she couldn’t put her finger on. He stood at the threshold, hesitating.

“Can I come in?” he asked in a hoarse rasp.

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

He entered the room and shut the door behind him. He openly stared at her, his eyes wide in awe. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

She smiled softly, feeling shy in the spotlight of his unabashed wonderment. “You saw me wearing this yesterday.”

He shook his head. “Not like this.” He moved closer, stopping several feet in front of her. “You didn’t tell me to go to hell. I’m going to take that as a good sign.”

“I have some questions.”

He pressed his lips together. “Okay. Anything. Total honesty.”

She took a deep breath. “Did you know I’d be on that plane?”

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. “No. I had no idea . . . I didn’t have much of a plan either; I just knew Bart Vandemeer’s daughter was getting married. But I freely admit that I boarded the plane with the intention of finding evidence that your father’s firm stole my design.”

“Your design?”

His gaze held hers. “I came up with it, and Noah and I were working on funding and paperwork for the patent. Noah had a spare set of plans with him at a convention, and he . . . lost them.”

“Lost them?”

He grimaced. “He slept with some woman, and when he woke up the next morning, the bag and the plans were gone.”

She couldn’t believe her father would involve himself in such a thing, but two hours ago, she would have sworn an oath that her father wasn’t capable of cheating on her mother. “How do you know this isn’t some big coincidence?”

“Because when Noah was at your father’s firm yesterday, he saw a photo of the woman.” He paused. “She’s Drew Peterman’s fiancé.”

“Miriam?” Megan gasped. “I knew Drew was underhanded, but to have his girlfriend sleep with your brother . . .”

“So you believe me?”

“Of course I believe you, but I still don’t understand how you ended up as my substitute fiancé.”

“Everything I told you is true. I carried you out of the plane, and your mother heard me telling people you were my fiancée. I did try to correct her, but then your father introduced himself, and . . . I figured I was being given the chance to help us both out. I really did leave this trip up to fate, and it seemed like this giant gift had been delivered to me, wrapped up in a bow.” He took her hand in his. “I never meant to hurt or humiliate you. You have to believe me.”

She nodded. “So the reason you didn’t want to break up with me in the beginning was because you hadn’t found what you needed?”

“Yes, at first.”

“And then Noah came to help.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And then yesterday? When you used my father’s computer . . . ?”

“I was ready to let the business die. After our night together, I knew I couldn’t lose you.”

“But something changed.”

“When I checked my email, I got a note from our business manager, Angie. She told me that an employee who’s been with the firm for over thirty years had a heart attack.” He swallowed and reached forward to squeeze her hand. “He’s counting on me, Megan. How will he survive if my business fails? I felt like I had to make a choice between saving him and the other people in my firm and my own happiness. I’ve sacrificed so much for this business, but I didn’t want to give you up. It ripped my heart out to even consider it—”

She closed the distance between them and kissed him. “You’re not giving me up.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled her into a hug, kissing her softly for several seconds before releasing her.

“Do you have any hard evidence against my father’s company yet?”

Guilt flickered in his eyes. “No. Just circumstantial.”

She hesitated, not knowing if she wanted the answer to her next question. But she was tired of hiding from the truth. “Is my father involved?”

He didn’t answer and she pushed out a breath, trying not to cry.

“We don’t know, Megan. That’s circumstantial, too.”

But there was a good chance he was involved somehow, and the thought nearly killed her. “How’d he pay for this wedding, Josh? My parents don’t have that kind of money.”

“I don’t know.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded, taking in a deep breath. “So we need to get the evidence to save your business, right?”

“You want to help me?”

“You have people depending on you, don’t you?”

“Well . . . yes . . . but . . .”

“Do you have a plan?”

He shook his head, as though letting the realization that Megan was there for him, that she wanted to help him, sink in. “Drew Peterman and his fiancée are supposedly coming to the wedding. Noah is going to pull her away and try to get her to confess to stealing the plans and capture it with a video recording. If we can get her confession, the rest falls into place.”

“And how does Noah plan to get her to confess?”

His face reddened. “He has his . . . methods.”

“Oh.” She was sure he did.

“Libby’s agreed to help him, too. She’s going to record it all.” When her eyes widened in surprise, he added, “Noah stayed with her last night. Supposedly they’re BFFs now.”

“I heard. And what about you and Noah?”

He grimaced. “We’re working it out. He’s making an effort.”

“So if Libby and Noah are trying to get a confession, what is there for me to do? I want to help you.”

His eyes were soft as he smiled at her. “Your job is easy. You just be you.”

“And what’s your job in this?”

“To stand next to you and be the luckiest man in the world.”

Her face flushed. Were Libby and Blair right? Did he actually love her?

Did she love him?

She glanced down at her dress. “Thank you for this.”

“If we’re going through with this, I wanted today to be as wonderful for you as possible.” He started pacing, then stopped in front of her and said, “I have another gift, if you’ll accept it.”

Why was he so nervous? “Okay.”

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a silver ring. The band was engraved with an intricate pattern. Two smaller but still good-sized diamonds flanked a large round diamond. “I don’t want to stand in front of all your mother’s friends and go through this ceremony with Jay Connors’ ring on your finger. Noah called our mother on the way to the rehearsal dinner last night—after he’d realized what a screw-up it was to sign that damned paper—and asked her to overnight this.” He held it in front of her. “This was part of my grandmother’s wedding set. I figured we could swap out his engagement ring for mine. There’s a wedding band, too.” He searched her eyes. “And maybe when the ceremony is over, you’ll keep wearing the engagement ring.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock as he got down on one knee. “Megan Vandemeer, sitting by you on that plane was the best thing that ever happened to me. And when I thought about losing you, I was devastated. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t know how I fell in love with you so quickly, but I did. I know it’s probably too soon, and this is so unlike me, but I love you. I know deep in my gut that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

She laughed between her tears.

“Are those happy tears?” he asked, still on his knee. “Please tell me those are happy tears.”

She nodded.

“Is that a yes? You’re leaving me hanging, Meggie, and this floor is hard. But I’ll grovel if I have to. I’ll do anything to prove myself to you.”

“Yes. Yes.”

He stood and pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she forgot everything around them.

When she looked into his eyes, she smiled. “I love you, too.”

He laughed. “I sure as hell hope so. You just agreed to marry me for real.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Josh was more nervous than he’d expected. This was a fake wedding, arranged for his now-fiancée and another groom, so why was he so nervous?

Fake wedding or not, it felt incredibly real, especially since there was a real wedding in their near future. He knew Megan was worried that her parents wouldn’t arrive in time, and he wished his own mother were present. All he could do was hold Megan’s hand and stand by her side.

Megan and Josh waited behind the glass chapel and around the corner by the flower garden, out of sight of the guests who were being seated. Libby, Blair, Noah, and Kevin were with them. Josh was happy that Kevin’s animosity had softened, even if he wasn’t overly friendly. Noah kept grinning like a fool, as though he had something up his sleeve, and Libby, who was probably in the know since she and Noah were besties now, seemed perkier than usual. Josh pulled his brother to the side.

“What are you up to?” Josh asked, scrutinizing him while waiting for an answer.

Noah held out his hands. “What? I can’t be excited my baby brother is getting married?”

Josh leaned into his ear. “It’s not like this is our real wedding, Noah.” He stood upright. “But thanks for having Grandma’s rings sent.” He swallowed. “It means a lot, especially since she left them to you.”

Noah clapped his brother’s upper arm. “You and Megan deserve them and all the happiness that comes with them.” He glanced over his shoulder at the bride. “It looks good on her finger.”

Josh studied his brother before whispering, “She’s going to keep wearing it after the ceremony. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

He expected more surprise from his cynical brother, but Noah’s face lit up with a radiant smile. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.”

“You—a firm believer that true love doesn’t exist—think me proposing to a woman I’ve known for four days is the best news you’ve heard in a long time?”

Noah shrugged, glancing at Libby, then back at him. “What can I say? I’ve been convinced this is true love. And I have to admit that I’ve never seen you happier.” He turned serious. “You deserve all this happiness and so much more, Josh.”

A lump clogged Josh’s throat. “Thanks, Noah.”

Noah shrugged again, an arrogant grin slowly spreading across his face as he straightened his tie. “I’ll try not to outshine you up there.”

“With that black eye?”

He winked his bruised eye, then winced, still grinning. “It only adds to my rugged charm.”

Josh’s gaze fell on Megan, once again stunned this woman who was so beautiful—inside and out—was his. “We’re both going to be outshone.”

Noah rested his hand on Josh’s shoulder, following his gaze. “I think you’re right about that one, little brother.”

Bart and Nicole arrived with minutes to spare—Nicole hopped-up on painkillers, with an arm sling on her right side and an eyepatch on her left. The instant Megan saw her parents, all the tension drained from her body, leaving her with a radiant glow. She gave the go-ahead to start the wedding procession.

“Thanks for keeping me calm, but I’m good now.” Megan reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “See you at the altar, Mr. McMillan.”

Her mother’s unfocused eyes darted around. “Did she just call him Mr. McMillan?”

Just then the usher came around the corner to lead her to her seat.

Josh started to head for the chapel but stopped when he saw Nicole pull away from the usher and stumble toward her daughter. She was probably planning to give her an earful about letting Josh see her dress. This wedding might not be real, but he wasn’t going to let her mother screw this up for her any more than she already had.

Sensing that Megan’s mother was chemically impaired, the usher reached for her good arm to lead her away, but she shrugged him off again.

Josh was about to bolt toward them to intervene but stopped when he heard Nicole’s first words. “You’re a good girl, Megan. I wanted you to have the perfect wedding. I’ve been a terrible mother to you, and I know it. This was my way of trying to make it up to you, but I went ahead and screwed that up, too.”

“No, Mom.” She shook her head, tears glittering in her eyes. She looked up at Josh, and he offered her a reassuring smile. All the drugs must have shaken some warmth and affection from Megan’s mother, and he was relieved. Granted, Knickers hadn’t handled the wedding arrangements the best way, but as a gesture, it was appreciable.

“It’s the most beautiful wedding ever. Thank you,” Megan said, placing a hand on her mother’s good shoulder.

Assured that Megan was okay, Josh took his place at the altar of the all-glass chapel, the view of which overlooked the gardens. Knickers had outdone herself with the organza draping gracing the ends of each pew. Flowers were everywhere—roses in varying shades of white and pale pink. Josh hated to admit it, but Knickers’ wedding madness had paid off. The glass chapel was gorgeous on its own. The plethora of flowers made it stunning.

Kevin stood on the altar with him, and Noah stood in the best man position. Noah leaned over and whispered in Josh’s ear, “I know Knickers was worried about your side of the church being too bare.” He pointed to the right. “There’s a surprise for you.”

Josh turned his attention to the front row and was shocked to see his mother. Tears filled her eyes, and she gave him a warm smile. He turned back to Noah, silently demanding an explanation.

“You can’t get married without Mom. She’d kill us both.” When Josh didn’t avert his gaze, he continued. “When I asked for the rings, she demanded to know why, so I told her everything. She overnighted the rings, but her plane barely landed in time.”

Josh leaned closer to Noah’s ear. “But this wedding isn’t real.”

Noah smirked. “You just keep telling yourself that.”

The string quartet switched to the wedding march, setting Josh’s heart to racing, and first Libby then Blair walked down the aisle.

Bart walked down the aisle next, Megan on his arm. She was gorgeous in her white silk dress, her dark hair hanging down her back. A short veil—the one the sales clerk had recommended—was pinned to the top of her head. She carried a bouquet of soft pink roses. All eyes in the chapel were on her, but her gaze remained fixed on him as she made her way to the front of the room. The love in her eyes sucked his breath away, and he once again thanked God above that this woman was his. His chest warmed as she approached him, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of everyone.

When the minister announced it was time for the vows, Josh interrupted him. “Uh . . . I wrote my own vows.”

Megan’s eyebrows lifted playfully as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a napkin.

“Okay,” the minister said, sounding uncertain. Josh knew Knickers had told him to stick to the traditional vows, and this was throwing off the scripted ceremony.

Josh opened the napkin and began to have second thoughts as he looked down at the list in his hand. His gaze lifted to hers and she smiled, giving him the silent encouragement he needed to speak.

“Megan, I promise to stay in the shower with you when the water turns cold.”

She giggled.

“I promise to carry you off planes when you overdose on Dramamine, but I draw the line at letting your Gram take pictures of my bare butt.” He turned to the audience and found her grandmother on the front row. “Sorry, Gram.”

“That’s okay,” Gram called out to him. “Noah will pose for me.”

The crowd snickered and laughed.

He turned back to Megan, who was obviously struggling to keep a straight face.

“I promise to walk the dog when it’s cold and rainy,” he continued.

“Wait,” she whispered, loud enough for only them to hear. “You have a dog?”

He leaned closer and whispered, “No. Do you?”

She shook her head. “No, but I want one.”

“So do I. I’ll walk it.” He straightened and looked at the bottom of his list. “And if you agree to keep me around, I promise I’ll always bring you milk.”

She started laughing.

“I promise to throw my laundry in the hamper and always keep your feet warm.” He looked up at her. “I’ll be there to share your joy, and I’ll always be there to wipe away your tears in your sorrow. I will support you in every choice you make—unless it involves snow peas—but I’ll definitely be there for everything else.” He took her hand, turning serious. “No matter what, I promise to always love you. I want to thank you for turning my life completely upside down.” He looked into her eyes. “You are my once in a lifetime, Megan Vandemeer. Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

She squeezed his hand and bit her lower lip. “I didn’t write any vows, Josh.”

“That’s okay.”

She took a deep breath and pushed it out. “I don’t know what I would have done without you over these last few days, and I had no idea what I was missing until you showed it to me, but now that I’ve had the milk, I wouldn’t dream of giving up the cow. Thanks for crashing into my life.”

He laughed.

“And thank you for giving in to fate, Josh. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.”

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it as she stared up at him with so much love he had to fight the impulse to kiss her right then and there.

They turned back to the minister who was gaping at them, his eyes wide. He took a moment to gather his wits. “You can exchange the rings,” he stammered out.

Josh knew from the rehearsal that the minister had been planning to recite something, but the unorthodox vows had clearly thrown him for a loop.

After pulling the wedding ring from his pocket, Josh picked up Megan’s finger and held the ring over it. “This was my grandmother’s ring. My grandfather had it specially designed for her, and they were married fifty-two years.” He glanced at his mother in the audience, wondering what she thought, but she just gave him a loving smile and wiped tears from her cheeks. He turned back to Megan, suddenly wishing this wedding had been planned for the two of them—that it was real. “I hope we can have a marriage as strong and long-lasting as theirs was.”

He slid the ring over her finger.

“I don’t have a ring,” she whispered. “I forgot a ring.”

Kevin cleared his throat. “I have one. Mom worried that you’d forget, so she gave me Grandpa’s,” he grumbled, walking over and handing her a ring. “And for the record, this is the most bizarre wedding I’ve ever been to,” he said, soft enough for only them to hear.

Josh grinned. There was nothing traditional about how they’d gotten here. Why would their wedding be any different?

Megan put the ring on his finger with little fanfare, and the minister, who was clearly eager to be done with this mess, said, “May I present Mr. and Mrs. Josh McMillan.”

“Who?” Knickers asked Bart, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Why did he call them that?” Hopefully the pain medicine was still in full enough effect that she’d forget the slip.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Josh pulled Megan into his arms and kissed her, then lifted his head as applause filled the chapel. “We really did it.”

She beamed up at him. “We really did.”

Chapter Thirty

Josh endured several rounds of photos with the drunk photographer, who hiccupped in between shouting out orders, a wedding cake that nearly fell over, and Knickers’ spiraling mood swings as she came off her pain meds. Luckily Knickers seemed to have forgotten the minister’s use of his real name, though, and everyone was having a wonderful time.

It was the best day of his life.

When Bart introduced him to Drew Peterson and his fiancée Miriam in the receiving line, Josh realized he’d completely forgotten the original purpose for carrying on with the charade of the wedding. His back stiffened, and he forced himself to shake the man’s hand. Megan wasn’t as gracious and barely acknowledged either of them. Her father gave her a confused glance, but the next guest approached, and Drew and his date moved along to their table.

Josh looked over at Noah, a couple of places down the line. They exchanged a nod; then Noah’s gaze followed Drew to his seat.

A couple of minutes later, Josh’s stomach tightened when he glanced into the face of his mother. She’d seemed happy enough during the wedding, but what would she say now that it was all over?

“Mom . . .”

She reached up and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’d ask you if you’re sure, but it’s too late for that now. Besides, the happiness rolling off you tells me that you are.”

He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

She broke loose and looked up into his eyes. “Why would you be sorry?”

“For not telling you sooner.”

“From what Noah told me, there wasn’t much sooner you could have told me.” She grabbed his hand, tears in her eyes. “You’re so much like your father. Even when it comes to love.”

His face warmed and he realized Megan was watching them, both fear and worry on her face. He took her hand in his and turned to his mother. “Mom, this is Megan Vandemeer . . . the most amazing woman in the world.” He turned to his mother. “Next to you, of course.”

His mother laughed. “Now that you’re married, I’ll relinquish the title.”

Megan held out her hand. “Mrs. McMillan . . . I’m so happy you came.”

His mother ignored her outstretched hand and hugged her. “None of that Mrs. McMillan stuff. Call me Marla.”

She squeezed her one more time, and Josh let out a sigh of relief. So she wasn’t going to hold this impromptu wedding against either of them.

His mother gave him an ornery grin. “And why are you calling her Megan Vandemeer? She’s Megan McMillan now.” Worry filled her eyes and she hastily added, “Unless, of course, you plan on keeping your maiden name. I realize women do that nowadays.”

Megan laughed and wrapped her arm around Josh’s, leaning her temple into his shoulder and looking up into his face. “No. I like the sound of Megan McMillan.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “I like the sound of that, too.”

His mother smiled. “I can’t wait to get to know you better, Megan. Anyone who can make my son beam with so much happiness is a very welcome addition to our family.” Her gaze landed on Noah, who was joking around with Libby. “Now if Noah could just settle down with a good woman.”

Josh snorted with a grin. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Knickers had outdone herself with the reception as well. The dinner was served under a huge organza-draped tent filled with flowers and candelabras. After the dinner, the guests made their way to the makeshift dance floor on the lawn, dancing to music played by a band.

Hours into the reception, the open bar had helped the atmosphere shift from formal to fun-loving, but Noah still hadn’t made his move. Finally, Josh saw Miriam head up to the administrative building, where the restrooms were located. Noah followed about thirty seconds later, with Libby close behind. The heavy sense of responsibility that had been plaguing him finally sloughed away.

Josh spun Megan around on the dance floor under the stars. The band Knickers had hired was surprisingly good. He knew they should be mingling with their guests, but he couldn’t bring himself to lose this perfect moment with her.

A couple of dances later, Megan noticed his attention drift up the small hill, and she glanced around. “Where’s Noah?”

Josh gave her a knowing look. “He’s getting our proof.”

“Do you think he’ll get it?”

He grinned. “Yeah.”

“What about my dad?” Worry lines wrinkled her forehead.

“Hey.” She looked up at him. “Let’s find out what Miriam tells Noah, then go from there.”

“Okay.” She nodded. “Did you get the marriage license from Noah yet?”

Josh had told the minister he’d take care of mailing the license, but he’d seen the minister hand the stamped envelope to Noah, who’d been evasive about it all evening. “No. But I’ll get it. I promise.”

“Josh! What if Noah loses it?”

He stopped dancing and kissed her, making them both forget about Noah and what he was up to. “How much longer do we have to stay at this thing?” he asked, his lips brushing hers. “I’m very eager to start our honeymoon. Although, I just now realized that I have no idea where we’re staying tonight.”

She giggled. “As much as I love making love to you under the stars, I need a bed tonight.”

A wicked gleam filled his eyes. “All this talk about beds is only making me want to drag you away now.”

“Patience, Mr. McMillan.”

His gaze returned to the small hill. He had to at least stay and see how Noah’s scheme played out.

Ten minutes later, Noah emerged from the administrative building, searching the crowd. Josh nodded, then gave Megan a lingering kiss.

“Keep that up and I’ll want to skip the rest of my own reception.”

He grinned. “Hold that thought. I need to talk to Noah.”

“Okay.”

“Your mother has been shooting us dirty looks for the last five minutes. Why don’t you go appease her, and after I finish with Noah, I’ll steal you away.”

“Deal.”

He made his way through the crowd and met Noah at the edge of the tent Knickers had rented for the reception.

“Did you get it?” Josh asked, keeping his gaze on Megan.

“Piece of cake. Peterman’s kid put her up to it. His dad didn’t want to make him a part of the firm, so he needed to give them something they couldn’t refuse. We were at the same conference, and Peterman knew about the design because I ran my mouth a bit too much. His girlfriend was with him, and you know the rest of that part.”

Josh scowled. “It’s the next part I’m interested in.”

“Drew gave the plans to his dad, passing them off as his own.”

“So no one else knew they were stolen?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But what about the email from the attorneys in Bart’s personal email?”

Noah grinned. “I cracked his email.”

“What? When?”

“While you and Megan were busy making goo-goo eyes at each other during dinner, I kept trying different combinations until I broke it.”

“Combinations of what?”

“His nicknames for Megan.”

That made sense. “And . . . ?”

“It looks like Bart caught wind of our application being denied. He realized that Drew had acquired the plans illegally. He was checking to see what ramifications it would have on the firm, given that the other principals had no prior knowledge of the crime.”

“That means Bart is innocent.”

“In this? Yes.”

Josh lifted his eyebrow in question.

“There’s still the issue of him taking money from his company, but that’s their problem, not ours.”

“So we won?” Josh asked, incredulous.

Noah looked over at Megan. “You won, all right.”

Libby slipped out the side door of the building and walked over to them, a sly grin on her face.

“Has it been taken care of?” Noah asked.

Libby’s grin widened.

A man walked up to the party, his gaze scanning the crowd. He looked to be in his early thirties, with dark hair and a medium build. He wore jeans and a polo shirt, so he obviously didn’t belong at the wedding. Something about him set Josh’s nerves on edge.

But something else told him that Libby and Noah were the more immediate concern. “Has what been taken care of?”

“Your wedding gift,” Libby said.

Libby had his full attention. “Why am I suddenly scared?”

“There’s no reason to be scared,” Noah said. “It’s exactly what you wanted. Megan.”

Josh’s chest tightened. What had they done? “I already have Megan.”

“This is more permanent.” Looking pleased with himself, Noah slapped Josh’s arm. “Libby put your marriage license in the mail. I told you this was the real deal.”

Terror washed over him. What was Megan going to say? Would she think he tricked her in this, too? “Get it back!”

“No can do, Joshy.” Noah laughed. “It’s a public mailbox. Breaking in is a federal offense.”

“Fix this.”

“It is fixed. It’s done.”

Josh turned back to the crowd, trying to sort through his options. Surely Megan wouldn’t hold it against him if he could get Noah and Libby to confess.

His eye caught the man at the edge of the crowd. He studied him closer, thinking he’d seen him somewhere, then realized he looked like an actor on Dawson’s Creek. The guy stood on the periphery, his body stiff, as though he were looking for a fight. How did he know him?

Josh turned to Libby, his heart racing now. “Who is that guy?”

The man started to push his way none too gently through the crowd, heading straight for Megan.

“Oh, God,” Libby said, breathless. “It’s Jay.”

“Shit!” He took off running, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as he pushed people out of the way.

Megan was talking to her mother and several of her friends, oblivious to the booby trap headed toward her.

Jay reached her first. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

“What the hell is going on here?” he shouted, still holding her arm.

She cried out in surprise and tried to pull out of his grasp, but he held on tight.

Finally reaching Megan, Josh positioned himself beside her, hands balling into fists at his sides. “Get your hand off her now.” His voice was calm, but it held a deadly edge.

Knickers appeared from behind him, livid at what she had to see as a wedding crasher—one who was accosting her daughter, no less. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Who am I?” Jay shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth. “I am Jay Connors. The groom!”

A collective gasp spread across the crowd.

“What the hell is going on here, Megan?” He jerked on her arm.

Josh wanted to beat the shit out of the dirtbag, but the guy had to let go of Megan first. “I’m warning you,” Josh said, taking a step forward. “Let go of her now.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m her husband. Now let. Her. Go.”

Josh weighed his options as the other man turned to face him, his mouth gaping wide open. He could try to deck Jay, but he didn’t want Megan to get caught in the middle. He heard someone come up behind him, and when he glanced back, he wasn’t surprised to see that Noah literally had his back.

Megan’s face was pale, and she cast a glance at her mother, then at her ex-fiancé. “Jay, let’s go somewhere more private, and I’ll explain.”

A black look washed over his face. “Oh, you’re going to explain, all right.” He moved through the crowd, dragging Megan with him.

As Josh followed, he waved over Libby and Blair, who’d hurried over to them. “Call the police.”

Blair held up her phone. “Already done.”

Jay didn’t stop until he reached a concrete pad at the edge of the gardens. Josh took comfort in the fact that it was at least a somewhat private place. Not that this was a private moment. There were six people watching Jay maul Megan—Kevin had joined the group, looking like he was going to murder Jay Connors himself. One look at Megan’s face told Josh how humiliated she was.

“Start talking, Megan.” Jay’s fury grew, and he jerked on her arm. “Who is this clown?”

Josh’s own temper raged and he started to lunge for the man out of instinct, but Noah held his arm and growled under his breath, “Not yet.”

Megan took a deep breath to keep from crying. “Josh.” She shot a glance at her mother. “Josh McMillan.”

Anger spread across Knickers’ face when she realized she’d been duped.

“Josh,” Jay said with a sneer. “Were you screwing him while we were together?”

“What?” she asked in horror. Then her fear gave way to anger and she glared at him. “No, Jay. I’m not a cheating bastard like you are!”

“We broke up six weeks ago, Megan, and you’re marrying this—” he waved his hand toward Josh, “—this shithead. You’re telling me you weren’t sleeping with him all along?” He jerked on her arm again, and she winced in pain.

Josh had about reached his limit. “If you care about her at all, let her go.”

“You mean care about her like you do?” He released a bitter laugh.

“I love her.” Josh held up his hands, pulling loose from Noah’s hold. “I wouldn’t dream of hurting her, but you’re hurting her now. So let her go, and we’ll talk about this like adults.”

Jay shook his head, seeming to just now notice the others who’d trailed after them. “This doesn’t concern the rest of you. Everyone leave but you.” He pointed at Josh.

Knickers’ face twisted with rage. “You are manhandling my daughter, you miscreant. Let go of her now.” She was a force to behold.

Jay turned his gaze to Megan’s mother, and his grip loosened as if by instinct.

Megan took the opportunity to stomp on his foot and elbow him in the stomach. Releasing her arm with an angry shout, Jay reached up to hit her.

Josh didn’t waste a second. He lunged for Jay, knocking him to the ground as Noah pulled Megan out of harm’s way.

“You son of a bitch! Keep your hands off my wife!” He swung at Jay, connecting with his jaw. “You never deserved her!” Jay pushed Josh away from him, then got to his feet and punched Josh in the stomach.

“Jay!” Megan shouted. “Leave him alone!” She tried to lunge for them, but Noah held her back.

Josh got two more punches in before the men broke apart and leered at each other.

“What do you want, Connors?” Josh asked, breathless. “Do you want her to say she cheated on you? Why? So you won’t feel like such a fool for letting her go?” He clenched his fist, then flexed it. “That’s why you’re here in Kansas City, right? Because you realized what a complete idiot you were to cheat on her? Now she’s moved on, and you can’t accept responsibility for that, so it’s easier to blame her.” He stepped closer and jabbed his finger at Jay’s chest. “But that’s on you! You had two years to treat her right, but you were too stupid to see what you had.”

Jay’s face hardened. “She’s not yours.”

“We’re married. Deal with it.”

Jay swung at him again, and Josh stepped backward and out of the way.

Hundreds of sprays of water suddenly shot straight up from the ground in a twenty-foot diameter. They pulsed, spraying on and off, completely drenching the two men.

So that explained the concrete pad.

Jay swung at him again, and Josh took another step back, evading his fist.

“Enough!” Megan’s mother shouted, the authority in her voice unmistakable.

Both of them stopped and turned to face her, still standing in the oscillating water sprays.

“Jay Connors, you have five seconds to leave my sight. Never contact my daughter again.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you do, I will hunt you down all the way to the Pacific West and chop off important parts of you that you’d probably prefer to keep.”

His gaze shifted to Megan, a question in his eyes.

“We’re done, Jay,” she said without hesitation. “Go.”

Nicole’s voice was icy. “Your time starts now, Mr. Connors.”

“You’ll regret this someday, Megan,” he shouted.

“You keep telling yourself that.”

He stomped up the steps and toward the entrance to the gardens.

Bart appeared at the edge of the group, panting. “What happened?”

Knickers ignored her husband and turned her attention to Josh. “Mr. McMillan.”

He lifted his chin, shivering in his wet suit and trying not to feel like a grade school boy sent to the principal’s office. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“How long have you known my daughter?”

“Four days.”

“Four days?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You met on the plane?”

“Yes.”

“And you just got married?”

“Yes.”

Megan pulled free from Noah’s hold. “Mom, I can explain.”

“You can explain why you told me this man was Jay Connors.”

She hesitated, looking over at Josh. He nodded his encouragement.

Taking a deep breath, Megan turned toward her mother. “I broke up with Jay six weeks ago, and I was afraid to tell you.”

“Why?” her mother demanded. “Do you really think I would want you to marry a man who would cheat on you?”

Megan looked torn. “You kept telling me how much the wedding cost and that you couldn’t get refunds.”

The fury in her mother’s face dissolved into sorrow and her shoulders sagged. “You really think I’m that much of a monster?”

Megan started to say something but kept her mouth shut.

“So you chose to marry a stranger rather than tell me your fiancé cheated on you?”

“We’re not married. It wasn’t real.”

Josh cringed. Things were about to get uglier. As if that were possible. He took several steps toward her and out of the fountain, water dripping from his hair onto his face. “Meggie, we are.”

Confusion wrinkled her brow. “We are what?”

His eyes pleaded with hers. “We’re married.”

She blinked. “What?”

“The marriage license got mailed in. We can’t get it back.”

“What? How?”

Libby held up her hand, a sheepish look washing over her face. “Me.”

“And me.” Noah stepped up next to her, as if presenting himself for punishment.

“Josh didn’t know anything about it,” Libby said. “We had just told him when Jay showed up.”

Josh knew he had to take control. “It doesn’t matter. As far as I’m concerned, this wedding couldn’t be any more real. I’m glad they mailed it in, but they should have consulted us first.” He searched Megan’s face, hoping to get a read on how she felt, but it remained expressionless. He decided to go for broke and took several steps toward Knickers, his hand extended as he presented his case. “I love her. I’ve never met anyone like her before, and I know it’s crazy. I know it. But it’s right, too.”

Knickers watched him for several seconds before turning to Megan. “We can get this annulled.”

“What?” Josh asked in panic. Noah and Libby voiced their own protests, too, but he was too distraught to register what they said.

Megan gasped. “You would do that?”

“Of course I would do that.” Her no-nonsense countenance had returned, and she was ready to take charge once again. “You’re not stuck with this. I’ll take care of it.”

Megan looked between Josh and her mother and took a deep breath. “What if I want to be stuck with this?”

Josh leaned over his knees, weak from relief. “Oh, thank God,” he mumbled under his breath.

Knickers eyes widened. “Why on earth would you want that, Megan?”

“Because I love him.”

“How? You hardly know him.”

“I don’t know. I just do.”

“So you’re married to Josh McMillan?”

She gave him a bright smile that sucked his breath away. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Epilogue

Two months later, Megan McMillan pushed open her apartment door, terrified she was too late. “Josh!”

“In the bedroom.”

She shut the door behind her and dropped her purse on the entry table before she hurried down the hall. Josh was bent over a suitcase, zipping it closed.

“I got tied up at work, and I thought I missed you.” Her voice broke and she felt ridiculous. He might be flying to Kansas City, but she’d see him in two days.

Josh stood upright and turned to her, the look in his eyes making her tingle from head to toe. How could he always look at her with such wonder, as though he were seeing her for the first time?

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. When he lifted his head, he smoothed the hair back from her face, searching her eyes. “I think I should postpone my trip and leave when you can get away on Wednesday.”

“No, don’t be ridiculous,” she said, more for her benefit than his. “You have to be there tomorrow for the big meeting with the new investor. It was your idea to merge your business with my father’s. You have to be there to oversee everything.”

“You’re more important than some business meeting, Megan. Besides, Noah can take care of it.”

She snorted. “Noah? He can barely feed and clothe himself.”

“He’ll be there anyway. He’s flying with me.”

That was news to her. “Why? He hates business meetings.”

“I have a feeling it has something to do with Libby.”

“What? But she’s still with Mitch.”

He kissed her again, taking her breath away, along with all thoughts of Noah and Libby. Her knees weakened and he wrapped an arm around her back, holding her to his chest. “I really think I should postpone this trip,” he whispered huskily into her ear. “I’m not sure I can be away from you for two days. The longest we’ve been apart is twelve hours.”

She looked up at him and forced a smile. “Some people like Blair would find that nauseating.”

“Good thing we’re not like that.”

She looked down at his chest and smoothed several imaginary wrinkles from his shirt. “No.” She forced her voice to sound firm. “You need to go, and I can’t come with you today because of my meeting tomorrow. I’ll fly in on Wednesday for Blair’s wedding weekend like we planned.”

He sighed and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. “Being responsible sucks.”

She laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“I’ll stay with your parents until I pick you up from the airport; then we’re staying in a hotel. Because after being away from you two nights, I can’t promise to be quiet in bed.”

He kissed her again, making her wish she had time to strip off both their clothes.

“Do me a favor,” he murmured against her lips.

“Anything,” she sighed.

“If some man sits by you on the plane and offers to stand in as my proxy, refuse.”

She gave him an ornery grin. “I don’t recall having any say in the matter the first time.” She laughed. “But I couldn’t imagine my life any other way.”

“Neither can I, Meggie.” He placed a soft kiss on her lips, filling her with love and contentment. “Neither can I.”

* * *

The Player (The Wedding Pact #2)

Blair’s Wedding

The Player

The Wedding Pact #2

Chapter One

Blair Hansen had always heard that near-death experiences made people reevaluate their lives. She’d spent nearly thirty years sure about what she wanted in life, but all it had taken for her to start questioning everything was some severe turbulence on a 747.

She picked up her whiskey and took a healthy sip. No girly drinks for her. Blair had forced herself to drink whiskey until she liked it. Being tough—and letting other people know it—was how she’d gotten to where she was in life. Which was currently in a hotel bar in Phoenix, Arizona, waiting to hear if they had a room for her to spend the night.

Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be away from home at all, let alone in Phoenix. She was getting married in five days, so her bosses had initially agreed to let her have a short four-day workweek in their office in Kansas City, but then the senior partner had called her on Sunday afternoon with instructions to board a plane to Los Angeles. And that’s exactly what she had done—despite the fact that she had a million and one things to do for her wedding. Robert Sisco Sr. didn’t want to hear excuses. Sisco, Sisco, and Reece only wanted to hear yes and see lots of dollar signs on checks, and her understanding of that fact was one of the reasons she was so close to making junior partner. They didn’t want her wedding to interfere with her work. Even if they were the primary reason she was getting married in the first place. Partners were typically married, which probably had something to do with the illusion of stability and maturity. It was all a bunch of hooey, but Blair Hansen really wanted to be a partner.

She took another gulp of her drink, the ice clinking against her glass because of her shaking hand.

The thing was, she’d realized something. Her future life had flashed before her eyes in those awful minutes on board the plane, and she hadn’t liked the look of it.

Now she wasn’t so sure she wanted to get married after all.

On paper, Dr. Neil Fredrick was perfect for her. Educated, personable, stable. Conservative politically and fiscally. Neil was a firm believer in playing it safe. And stability was exactly what Blair wanted after bearing witness to her parents’ chaotic marriage—her father’s affairs, her parents’ subsequent divorce, and finally her father’s death, which had practically bankrupted the family.

But lately, she found herself wanting something . . . more.

She blamed it on her best friend Megan. Megan had gotten married two months ago, though not to her original groom. Their story was the kind of gushy, too-cute-to-be-true, fairy-tale romance that wasn’t supposed to happen in real life. But for Megan, the impossible had happened. The weekend of her wedding, she’d boarded a plane home to tell her parents that she and her cheating asshole fiancé had broken up. After imbibing several drinks and a large dose of Dramamine on the plane, she passed out and was carried off-board by her gorgeous seatmate, who filled in as her substitute fiancé. By the end of the week, Josh had become her real husband, and the two were still nauseatingly happy.

Gag.

Still, Blair couldn’t dismiss the fact that their wild and crazy love had put a crack in her belief that she had the perfect arrangement—a crack that was starting to spider web. She and Neil had separate apartments, and although Neil had begun spending more time at her place, he remained surprisingly stubborn about keeping his after they were married.

A memory from a couple of months ago intruded on her, tapping directly on that crack in the glass.

“My apartment is closer to the hospital, Blair,” Neil had said matter-of-factly, sipping his morning coffee. “It will be easier for the nights I’m on call.”

It was hard to argue with his logic—and his stoic logic had always been one of his more attractive traits—but it still seemed . . . wrong. If they were unifying their lives in other ways, why keep separate places? And she knew how it would seem to everyone else.

“But the money—”

“The mortgage on my condo is more than covered by my salary, and the neighborhood is up-and-coming,” he had said, his eyes still glued on his newspaper. “If I hold onto it for another five years, there’s a chance it will double in value. It makes financial sense to keep it.”

At the time, she’d wanted to point out that he could rent it, and anyway, her condo was only twenty minutes from the hospital. He’d already vehemently nixed the idea of sharing his place. According to Neil, the loft was a bachelor pad, and they needed to have a home worthy of entertaining their friends and colleagues. Not that they were known for their dinner parties.

But pointing out those facts would only have instigated an argument. And one of the best parts of their relationship was that they rarely argued. Her job was taxing and full of dissent; when she came home, she coveted peace. And if she were truly honest with herself, a small part of her approved of the living arrangements. Now that he was staying at her apartment on a more consistent basis, she’d begun to find his presence surprisingly suffocating and his previously cute quirks—like the precise way he chewed his food or how he had to have the remote control positioned a very exact way on the coffee table—irritating as hell. But that was normal. As a divorce attorney, she knew better than to expect that marriage would be a roller coaster of excitement.

In fact, if she’d learned anything from her work, it was this: the couples who ended up divorcing after just a year or two were usually the ones who’d been head-over-heels, drawing-hearts-on-everything in love when they approached the altar. Megan’s delirious happiness aside, there was no such thing as true love.

If there were, she would still be with Garrett Lowry.

She clanked her now-empty glass on the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “Another, please.”

He shot her a grin as he poured her drink. “Must have been some kind of Monday.”

She grabbed the glass out of his hands. “You have no idea.”

The deposition had run nearly two hours longer than planned, and she’d barely made it to LAX in time to catch her plane. Her feeling of relief had been short-lived; the severe turbulence had convinced her and most of the other passengers that they were about to meet their maker. By the time they landed in Phoenix, many of the connecting flights had been canceled or delayed, and Blair discovered she was stuck overnight in Arizona. The airline had sent her to this hotel, but there had been a problem at the check-in desk.

Half her whiskey was gone before she realized it. There were so many things she needed to do in Kansas City, and she wouldn’t get back until at least mid-morning, which meant she’d have to rush to get to her morning deposition. To make matters worse, the damn airline hadn’t even confirmed her on the six a.m. flight. They’d only made a vague promise to text her around four in the morning to confirm if she had a ticket.

So now she was well on her way to getting drunk in the bar of an Embassy Suites, playing another round of This Is Your Life, Blair Anne Myers Hansen, and she wasn’t too happy with what she saw.

Practical, pragmatic, sensible Blair wanted a heart-stopping, butterflies-in-her-stomach kind of love.

All that turbulence must have rattled her brains.

But she couldn’t deny the fact that she’d been thinking of Garrett a lot over the last two months—much more than the asshole deserved. Truth be told, he was the only man she’d ever loved. And look how that had turned out. Five years later, she could finally admit to the role she’d played in their breakup, but that didn’t make it suck any less.

The rift had formed the night Blair had received word of her estranged father’s death. Rather than share the news with Garrett when he came over, she had lashed out at him, picking a fight over some nitpicky complaint. Anger had always been her go-to reaction, and Garrett had weathered many a storm, but that night he’d responded with a fire equal to her own. The fight had spiraled out of control, and before she realized what was happening, Garrett had packed the toiletries and clothes he kept at her apartment into a duffel bag. And then he was gone.

She had spent the next day drowning in an emotional fog of dismay, grief, and loss, and even skipping classes—something she never did. After hours of stewing in her turbulent emotions, she had realized she felt an intense ache for Garrett. For the first time ever, she truly needed someone. She had decided to swallow her pride and go to him, ready to beg for his forgiveness and ask him to go with her to her father’s funeral. Never in a million years would she have guessed the surprise she had found in his apartment.

Jody Stewart, a fellow second-year law student, who’d made no secret of her lust for Garrett, had opened his door wearing cheap superstore lingerie. Neon green, to make matters worse.

Blair had turned around and never looked back, not even when Garrett had run after her. Or when he’d pounded on her apartment door for an hour begging and pleading with her to let him explain. Not even when he’d tried to approach her in class every day for two solid weeks.

When he’d begun to single-handedly plow his way through nearly every available woman in law school the next year, not to mention a couple of not-so-available ones, she knew she’d made the right decision.

Garrett Lowry was a player.

He may have taken a momentary side-stop with her, but he’d wasted no time before jumping back into the game. She was better off without him.

Still, the memories chafed.

Between Garrett’s betrayal and her father’s bad behavior, it had been easy for Blair to decide what type of law to practice. In fact, she should thank them both. Maybe she’d take daisies to her father’s grave when she came back from her honeymoon. He’d always hated daisies.

She was motioning to the bartender to bring her another drink, wishing the hotel staff would finally give her a damn room key, when she noticed him—the man standing in the entrance of the bar, his gaze fixed on her. She did a double take, certain the Embassy Suites was now including hallucinogens in their drinks, because standing in the doorway was the player himself—Garrett Lowry.

She stopped the bartender as he grabbed her glass. “I’m going to need you to make that a double.”

Chapter Two

Garrett Lowry wondered if he should just divorce his family and be done with them. Unfortunately, while he’d seen quite a few unusual divorce cases in his four years of practicing law, he’d never seen anyone divorce his mother and aunt.

All this fuss over a damned one-third carat diamond ring.

There was no disputing that his Great-Grandma Marie had bequeathed her engagement ring to her granddaughter. The trouble was that she hadn’t specified which granddaughter. Garrett’s Aunt Debra claimed that possession was nine-tenths of the law, and since she had possession of the ring, it was, ipso facto, hers . . . or rather, her son’s. She had given it to her son for his fiancée six months ago. Garrett’s mother felt otherwise, and so the colossal argument had begun. Though he had no real desire to contest his aunt’s stance on the issue, Garrett could think of half a dozen legal cases that disputed her claim. But even if he’d felt any familial connection to the round rock on the gold band, surrounded by multiple smaller diamonds, he had no present use for it. He hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since law school, when—in a moment of profound idiocy—he’d broken up with the one woman he’d ever loved.

Ever since, he had moved from one fling to the next like a water droplet on a hot skillet. It had been fun at first, but over the last year—with the big three-o on the horizon—Garrett had changed. He was ready to settle down with someone, but none of his relationships seemed to last longer than a couple of months.

The problem was simple, the solution less so: no one could live up to his ex-girlfriend Blair Myers. They’d shared a connection the likes of which he’d never found with anyone else, and he was becoming increasingly convinced that he wouldn’t find it with anyone else.

Garrett had to admit that it rubbed like hell that his cousin was getting married. The guy had to be the most boring person on the planet, not to mention the most annoying. Garrett assured himself that his bride-to-be was surely some milquetoast woman who was eager to settle with Dr. Neil Fredrick in their suburban house with two-point-five kids. He would come home from the hospital talking about which bacteria had given someone the squirts, and his wife would serve up pot roast and boiled potatoes.

But that didn’t make Garrett any more eager to take part in the War of the Ring, which had reached a boiling point now that the wedding was only a week away. Too bad Nana Ruby, the family matriarch, had taken it upon herself to assign him the role of peacemaker. Without bothering to consult him first, she’d arranged for him to be a last-minute groomsman in the wedding. He hadn’t even planned on going—he’d tossed the ivory invitation into the trash the moment it arrived, knowing he’d only received one at Nana Ruby’s behest—and he had plenty of work to do in San Diego. But Nana didn’t want excuses; she wanted to know that he would show up in Kansas City with a smile on his face and keep the peace.

And no one said no to Nana.

“I’m leaving the success or failure of this wedding in your hands, Garrett Michael Lowry,” the older woman had barked into the phone.

Garrett had snickered in response. “That seems like a huge responsibility, Nana. Are you sure you want to leave that to me? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m more of an instigator than a peacemaker.”

“Ain’t your high-falutin’ job all about making people come to some kind of agreement? You should be doin’ the same for your family.” Nana Ruby made no secret that she didn’t take much stock in higher education. Born and raised in the Ozarks, she’d gotten a ninth grade education and a doctorate at the University of Hard Knocks, a school she claimed was more beneficial than all those hoity-toity colleges. Garrett had always appreciated Nana’s unique charm, so he let her insults roll off his back. Neil, on the other hand, not so much.

“I don’t always help them come to an agreement, Nana. Sometimes the judge has to lay down the law.” He had paused for a moment before chuckling again. “Kind of like you, when it comes to Mom and Aunt Debra.”

“Don’t you try sweet talkin’ me, you devil child,” she’d grumbled.

“Sweet talk you? I’d be a fool to try. You’d rather have a cup of vinegar than a pot full of sugar.”

“You’re damn straight. Now get your ass to Kansas City, and you better have things under control by the time I drive up there on Wednesday.”

Garrett had hoped his mother would give him an out. He was her golden child, particularly after his sister’s recent out-of-wedlock pregnancy. Never mind that Kelsey was thirty-one years old and an executive sales manager for a national cellular phone service, making a six-figure income. In his mother’s eyes—or more importantly, his Aunt Debra’s—Kelsey had tarnished the Lowry side of the family. Frankly, Garrett thought Kelsey had dodged a bullet by not marrying her on-again, off-again boyfriend, who seemed incapable of holding a steady job. But all either sister cared about was whether Kelsey’s loser ex had put a ring on it.

While Garrett found it irritating that his mother would let his backwoods aunt’s attitude sway her, he was opportunistic enough to take advantage of his mother’s current desire to keep him happy.

Of course, she’d denied him, insisting that his inclusion in the wedding would be good for family unity.

“How will it be good for family unity? It’s only going to stir up more shit.”

“Language, Garrett,” she’d chastised. “You know your aunt can’t abide cursing.”

“See? All the more reason for me to stay away and not upset the carefully constructed apple cart.”

“If your nana wants you to be there, who are we to question it? She knows what she’s doing,” was all his mother would say.

His mother was up to something, all right, and it sure as hell wouldn’t help him play peacekeeper.

The only bright spot was that Neil was probably even more irritated about Garrett’s inclusion in the wedding party than he was.

Perhaps their mothers’ habitual animosity added fuel to the fire, but the cousins had never gotten along. While Garrett had always loved the two weeks a year he spent on his widowed grandmother’s acreage, spending it with Neil had added a partial dark cloud. Nana had taught both boys about the farm—from livestock to gardening—but while Garrett had soaked up the knowledge, reveling in it, Neil had whined so much, Nana had finally agreed to let him stay in the house with a book while she made the farm rounds with Garrett. But the annual visits had stopped in high school—which might have also coincided with Garrett playing a practical joke on his cousin involving horse dung. And while Garrett didn’t miss his mealy-mouthed cousin, he did miss his one-on-one time with Nana. So, while he technically could have told Nana Ruby no, he respected her so much, he would have done anything she asked of him. Not that he’d ever admit it. So he’d gone to work on Monday, told the senior partners he had a family emergency, and bought a late afternoon ticket to Kansas City.

Too bad Garrett had spilled the slightly amusing, slightly sad tale of what the emergency actually was, because as soon as he did, his boss decided to use it to his advantage.

Earlier that afternoon, Garrett had been packing his messenger bag when his boss walked into his office looking like he’d won the lottery.

“Since your emergency isn’t so emergent, you can do some work while you’re there.”

Garrett patted his bag. “That’s what I’m planning to do, Matt.”

Matt shook his head, his grin so wide it was a wonder his face didn’t split open. “Nope. Congratulations. You get to take the depositions on the Norfolk case.”

Garrett’s mouth dropped open. Could this trip get any worse? He shook his head in dismay. “No. Anything but that.”

His boss only laughed and dropped a huge file on Garrett’s desk. “Look at it this way. Now you don’t have to take vacation time.”

“I’ll take the week off without pay to get out of this.”

“Too late. It’s already been decided by the big guy upstairs.” He pointed his finger toward the ceiling. “He figures you’ll do a better job than Lopez has done. The client’s lost confidence in him, and you have a reputation of being a barracuda, so . . .”

Garrett groaned and picked up the file, flipping through the pages. “Dammit. I hear the attorney representing the wife is a real bitch.”

Matt laughed. “You don’t know the half of it.” He looked over his shoulder at the door, then turned back to Garrett and lowered his voice. “Rumor has it she made Lopez cry.”

Garrett started to laugh before realizing he was the one who had to fill Lopez’s shoes.

“Lopez’s assistant will email you more details about the case, but the file should be enough to get you up to speed. Your first deposition is tomorrow at ten and should get the week rolling.”

“First deposition?”

His boss laughed. “There are multiple people to depose in this case. The wife. The husband. The girlfriends. Plural.”

“I’m flying home on Sunday, Matt. And I supposedly have wedding activities on Thursday and Friday.”

Matt headed for the door and called over his shoulder, “Don’t come back until they’re all done.”

The wedding itself had begun to look like a cakewalk.

But now he was grounded in Phoenix for the night, and while he didn’t regret missing an early start to the wedding festivities, he didn’t want to delay the depositions. He had no desire to stay in Kansas City a minute longer than necessary, and he was pretty sure Nana wouldn’t see work as an excuse to get out of forced family fun.

But all thoughts went out the window when he ventured down to the bar at the hotel he’d booked. Because he recognized the woman sitting at the bar.

It was her, the woman who’d ruined all other women for him.

Blair Myers.

He blinked, certain his mind had given up and induced some type of psychosis, but the look of recognition in her own eyes proved she was real.

She was more beautiful than he remembered her. She still wore her blonde hair long, and it hung loose, though slightly mussed—totally unlike the put-together woman with whom he’d spent nearly a year. She wore a black skirt and a light gray silk blouse that clung to her breasts. Her four-inch black heels rested on the metal footrest attached to the bar. Her clear blue eyes were focused on him.

It took him a full three seconds to come to his senses and another couple to figure out what to do. Did he ignore her? Did he say hello? He knew what he wanted to do, but what did she want?

In the end, his feet made the decision for him. He found himself moving toward her, and he stopped only a few feet away, his pulse pounding in his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous, and from the way she was clutching the tumbler the bartender had just handed her, so was she.

What did he say? A half a dozen things popped into his head. I miss you. You look good. Are you happy? There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret what I did. But the only thing that came out of his mouth was “Hi.”

She continued to stare at him, her gaze slightly unfocused.

“Can I sit?” He motioned to the stool next to her.

His question snapped her out of her daze. She gave him a half shrug, then turned to face the bar. “I can’t stop you.”

He took the fact that she hadn’t kneed him in the balls as a good sign. He slid onto the leather stool as she leaned her elbows on the counter, swaying slightly. No one else would ever notice, but he’d spent the better part of a year studying her instead of his law books. The Blair he knew didn’t get drunk. “What are you doing in Phoenix?”

“Passing through.” She took a sip of her drink.

He was going to need fortitude. He flagged down the bartender. “I’ll take a draft beer. You got Coors?”

The bartender nodded and went to get his drink. Blair chuckled, but it was a brittle sound. “You still drink that crap?”

“Crap?” He leaned his forearms on the bar. “It’s made from pure mountain spring water.”

She laughed, a genuine laugh, and something in his chest seized with a longing that caught him by surprise. He’d missed her, but the ache was even stronger now that she was beside him.

She turned to him, her gaze searching his face. “Are you married?”

He couldn’t believe he was sitting with her now. Maybe this was the universe giving him a gift he didn’t deserve, or maybe it was some uniquely horrible form of torture. Either way, he’d take it, but he had to tread lightly. He wanted to tell her what an idiot he’d been, but he needed to take this slow or he would scare her off. Every moment he had with her was a gift, and he wasn’t about to screw that up. He forced a chuckle. “What do you think?” He instantly knew it was a mistake.

“Still footloose and fancy-free, huh?” She waved her glass to accentuate her words.

The bartender handed him his beer, and he grinned. “Since when did you start saying things like ‘footloose and fancy-free’?”

“Since I drank three whiskeys, two of them doubles.” She lifted her glass in salute and took a sip. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

He smirked, even if his heart wasn’t in it. “You bet I am. You?” He glanced down at her left hand, and his heart sank.

She held up her hand, the better to blind him, flashing a gold ring with multiple diamonds.

He swallowed his disappointment and for a moment actually considered getting up and walking away. He wasn’t sure he could sit here and pretend to be happy for her, or that his mind hadn’t spun into overdrive with excitement and possibilities the moment he saw her, but he also wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he acted that way. After all, he was the one who’d left and hurt her all those years ago. He owed her more than that. “Really, Blair? You don’t seem like the marrying kind.”

“People surprise you.” She grinned, but there was a bitter note in her voice.

He wanted to apologize—every fiber of his being demanded that he apologize. But he couldn’t. Despite what she thought, he knew her. The second he apologized, she’d kick his ass—probably physically as well as verbally—and walk away forever. Blair couldn’t stomach any sign of weakness, especially in herself. If he let this conversation get even borderline sappy, it was done.

“So tell me about the poor fool you ended up with.” He forced a grin.

She lifted her eyebrows. “Why? So you can make fun of him?”

“Depends. You know me. I make fun of anyone who believes in the Hallmark version of love.”

She laughed. “We both did.”

Yet she’d loved him once. And even though neither of them were sappy, what Garrett and Blair shared had been intense yet fun.

“Remember Anti-Valentine’s Day?” she asked, laughing as she watched him.

His breath caught in his throat. Her face was less than two feet away, and he had a powerful urge to lean over and kiss her, but that would ruin everything. He pulled himself together.

“How could I forget Anti-Valentine’s Day?” They’d gone out of their way to do the exact opposite of a typical Valentine’s Day celebration, opting for Chuck E. Cheese and arcade games and crappy pizza rather than roses and wine. Then Garrett led her to the roof of his three-story apartment building, where he’d set up a telescope, and showed her the star he’d bought for her and named Blazing Supernova. When she argued that the speck of dust he’d bought her wasn’t a supernova, he told her she burned brighter than any star in the sky, though of course he teased her too, so it wouldn’t come across as sentimental. And he gave her a plastic ring he’d won at Chuck E. Cheese, telling her that someday he’d give her a real ring, but it would be on October 14, because it was the farthest a person could get from Valentine’s Day.

Two months later he had ruined everything.

“Remember when we made fun of those idiots who were fighting over the last batch of roses at the grocery store?” she laughed, then finished her drink and motioned to the bartender.

Blair was a social drinker. She only got shit-faced when she was upset. Now he was worried about her. “So does your guy buy you flowers?”

“Hell, no,” she scoffed, wobbling on her stool. “He’s too practical for that.”

“So what does he do?”

Her eyebrows lowered, and she spent several seconds deep in thought. To his alarm, tears filled her eyes. “He programed my remote.”

He shook his head in mock appreciation. “An admirable gift.”

Her attention drifted over his shoulder, and he turned to see a hotel employee walking toward them.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” The skittish woman looked like she was about to bolt. “There aren’t any rooms available here at the hotel or any other hotel in a twenty-mile radius. We checked.” She cringed. “Twice.”

Blair blinked, and her eyes struggled to focus on the woman. “There are no rooms anywhere?” The sentence ended in a shout.

The employee jumped. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Ma’am?” Blair jumped off her stool and nearly fell over as she pointed her finger at the poor woman. “I’m not a ma’am! I could sue you for that!”

Garrett slid off his stool and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her back to his stomach. “Whoa, down there, tiger.”

She looked over her shoulder and up at him, horror in her eyes. “She called me ma’am. How could she do that?”

Garrett gave her a sympathetic look. “Clearly the poor woman needs glasses, but I hardly think it’s worth suing over.”

Blair twisted in his arms until her chest was pressed against his, and she looked up at him. “There’s no room for me in the inn, Garrett.”

The seriousness on her face made him chuckle. “I’ll find you a stable somewhere, Blazer. Not to worry.” His old nickname for her slipped out before he could reel it back in, but thankfully she didn’t seem to notice.

“I hate horses,” she grumbled, resting her cheek on his chest.

“I know. I’ll make sure there aren’t any horses.”

The poor employee watched them in confusion, then lifted her gaze to Garrett. He winked. “She was joking about suing.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Blair mumbled.

The employee’s eyes widened, and Garrett mouthed run.

The woman took off, and Garrett helped Blair back onto her stool. The bartender returned with Blair’s drink, but Garrett pushed it away before she could see it. “Can you bring a couple of waters and a couple of cheeseburgers, one with extra pickles?”

Blair laid her head down on the bar. “I like pickles.”

“I know.” He was glad she was too drunk to hear the sorrow in his voice.

Her head jerked up, and her eyes widened. “I have to find somewhere to stay tonight.”

“Blair, I’ve already figured it out. Let’s eat, and then we’ll talk about it.”

She laid her head down on her arm. “Okay.”

He watched her for several seconds, wondering what had made her so upset. He’d only seen her this drunk once before—the night she’d learned that her mother was moving from Kansas City to Des Moines. He had been her anchor then.

Now she was a mess, and she literally had nowhere to go. He wasn’t about to leave her here. He could spend the rest of his life beating himself up over something that was already done, or he could try to make things right. And other than Blair, Garrett wasn’t a man to live in the past and dwell on mistakes. Now was the time to act.

He asked the bartender to have the food sent to his room, and then he helped Blair off her stool. “Come on, Blazer. They found you a room.”

She lifted her head slightly. “They did?”

“Yeah, your attorney skills must be top notch. All that talk about suing convinced them to find you one.” He reached for her. “Let me help you find it.”

She sat up and fumbled as she batted his hands away. “I don’t need any help. Especially not from you.”

He lifted his hands in surrender. “Of course you don’t. But they asked me to escort you. So there’s no further lawsuit-worthy issues.”

Her nose scrunched. She was clearly confused, but drunk enough to believe him. She slid off the stool and reached for her overnight bag, nearly tripping when she tugged it off the ground.

He grabbed the bag and slung her purse over his shoulder too.

She shook her head and nearly fell over. “I don’t think that bag goes with your outfit.”

He grabbed her elbow to steady her. The bag was made of off-white, uber-shiny patent leather with a shiny gold clasp. It had probably cost a fortune. When he compared it to his jeans and pale blue button-up shirt covered in red stains from the Bloody Mary the passenger next to him had spilled during the turbulence, he flashed her a cocky grin. “Really? I thought jeans went with everything.”

She looked up into his face, her eyes searching his. “Why do you still have to be funny? And cute?” She slapped his chest, then left her hand there. “Why aren’t you fat and bald?”

“Because, Blair Myers, as you and I both know, there’s really no such thing as justice in this world.” He kept his tone light and teasing, although perhaps this chance meeting proved there was justice in the world. He deserved every bit of pain it brought him. That seemed like justice to him.

She lifted her chin. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I never asked.”

She jerked out of his hold and put her hands on her hips. “I’m not good enough for the high and mighty Garrett Lowry?”

“You know me, Blazer. Never go to the same pasture twice.” She’d accused him of that once, right before they left law school. It had stung deeper than he’d let on.

“I’m the best lay you ever had, Lowry.”

“It’s been too long and too many pastures ago to say, Blazer, but I’m sure you make the top five.” He knew she was beyond drunk when she had no reply. “Come on, the hotel staff asked me to show you to your room.”

He reached for her arm again, grateful when she didn’t shrug him off. He led her to the elevator, slightly worried the hotel staff would think he was taking advantage of her inebriation. But Blair’s drunken threats seemed to have staved off any such worries. Once they got on the elevator, his thankfulness turned to anger. Anyone could have taken advantage of her. But he knew that wasn’t true. Blair Myers was nobody’s fool, drunk or not. The fact that she trusted him now told him that she still cared about him. At least on some level.

When they reached his room, he pulled out his key and opened the door, leading her inside.

“There’s already a suitcase in here,” she said as she wobbled across the room. She kicked off her heels mid-stride.

“It’s mine,” he said, watching her. “They brought it up here when they asked me to show you to your room.” It was utter nonsense, but she was drunk enough to buy it. If he let on that the room had originally been his, there was no way she would stay in it, drunk or not.

“Oh.” She sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m still not sleeping with you.” She waved her left hand, the diamonds in her ring catching the light. “I’m not a cheater.”

He leaned his ass against the dresser. “I never cheated on you, Blair.”

She tilted her head to look at him. “No, I’ll give you that. I guess you’d left me before you slept with her.” He knew who she was talking about, of course. He hadn’t slept with her, but this wasn’t the time for an explanation. Blair glanced at his suitcase, then back at him. “You don’t live in Phoenix?”

“Nope. Looks like we both got stranded here.”

“So where are you going to sleep?”

He shrugged. He hadn’t gotten that far in this crazy scheme. “After I know you’re settled, I can go back to the airport.”

She fumbled with the buttons on her blouse, leaving it gaping open, so that he could see the swell of her breasts in her black bra and the creamy flesh of her abdomen.

God help him, but he was getting turned on by a drunk woman.

But this wasn’t just any drunk woman. This was Blair. Blair. How many nights had he thought of her naked body, the feel of her beneath him as he filled her . . . But it didn’t matter what his body—or his mind—remembered. He wasn’t about to try anything with her. He respected her more than that.

She settled back onto the bed, her legs curled to the side, and stared up at the ceiling. “You can’t go to the airport.” She licked her bottom lip and then sighed. “You can stay here.”

“It’s your room, Blazer. Besides, you already said you weren’t going to have sex with me.”

She awkwardly reached over and patted the other side of the mattress. “It’s a big bed, and I’m a used pasture. You can sleep over there.”

He wanted to stay with her, but based on the way he couldn’t take his eyes off the curve of her hips in her skirt or her exposed cleavage, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. “That is a very generous offer, but maybe I should head out now that you’re settled.” He could always grab some food at the airport. God knew, she could probably use both burgers after all the whiskey she’d downed.

She sat up and tears filled her eyes. “You’re leaving me again.”

Something in her voice ripped his heart to shreds. He’d sooner set himself on fire than make her feel that way again.

“No, Blair,” he said softly. “I’m not leaving you.” He moved to the bed and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her close. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” But her eyes sunk closed.

They sat there for five minutes, Blair dozing against him as he cradled her to his chest. He closed his eyes and drank her in—the sight of her, the smell of her, the familiarity of her. The scab on his heart ripped open, leaving him bruised and raw. She only wore an engagement ring. That meant she probably wasn’t married yet. Maybe in the morning when she was sober, they could talk, and he could tell her everything—that he was an utter idiot, but he was miserable without her, and he’d do anything to win her back. Literally anything.

Maybe there was hope for them.

Room service knocked on the door, and he gently settled her back onto the bed before he signed for the food. He considered waking her to eat, but she looked so peaceful he couldn’t disturb her. He ate his burger while he checked his email and studied for his deposition in the morning, all the while sneaking glances at her. Watching her was surreal. He’d never expected to see her again, let alone have her on his bed. Of course, he’d prefer to have her doing other things in his bed, but the peace and happiness he felt in her mere presence was a telling sign of how he felt.

Soon her draw was too strong. He changed into a T-shirt and a pair of athletic shorts and carefully lay down on the bed next to her, both of them on top of the comforter. She stirred, and he studied her face, taking in every detail and committing it to memory in case she refused to listen to him, which, he realized, was the most likely scenario. Blair was firmly against second chances. The way she’d turned her back on her father was proof enough of that.

She sighed and rolled over again, pressing her back to his stomach. He held his breath, waiting for her to wake up and accuse him of trying to take advantage of her. But she soon stilled, pulling his arm tighter against her stomach. He breathed in her scent, drowning in memories. She still used the same vanilla-scented shampoo.

“I miss you, Garrett,” she mumbled, and he froze. If she hadn’t said his name, he would have thought she was talking about her fiancé/husband. But she had said his name. So he wasn’t the only one who still had feelings.

He could make this work. He’d figure out a way. Screw Neil’s damn wedding. Screw the Norfolk depositions. He’d stay here with her as long as it took to convince her to give him a second chance.

But when he woke the next morning, the room still dark, he was devastated to find her side of the bed empty.

Blair was gone.

Chapter Three

Blair leaned her head back against the seat on her flight to Kansas City. Tears stung her eyes, making her angry.

What the hell had happened?

She would have chalked it up to an alcohol-induced hallucination, but she was sober when the airline had texted at four-thirty—hung over, yes, but very sober. And there was no denying Garrett Lowry had been in her bed.

She’d panicked, bolting off the mattress and taking stock of her clothing. Skirt and blouse had both been on, if more than a little wrinkled, although the latter had been completely unbuttoned. All her undergarments had still been intact. The only things missing had been her shoes, which had been strewn on the floor. Even Garrett had been dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. She couldn’t remember much after seeing him at the bar, just bits and pieces. Something about horses and lawsuits, which made no sense. She vaguely remembered a woman telling her there wasn’t a room for her after all. So how had she ended up in a room with Garrett? Oh, God. Had she gotten all nostalgic and begged him to sleep with her?

She was going to die of embarrassment.

Her first mistake had been asking for a second drink. Then a third. And so on. She couldn’t hold her liquor, as evidenced by her behavior the night before. Or by how little of it she remembered. She groaned and squeezed her eyes tight. No matter what she’d done—or hadn’t done—it chafed her that she’d lost control. Blair did not lose control. Ever.

But there was still the question of why he’d spent the night with her. She couldn’t help wondering if they’d had sex and then redressed. She couldn’t imagine Garrett staying with her otherwise. But if that was the case, she’d cheated on Neil. Regardless of whether anything had actually happened, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she still wanted him. Even after all these years and what he’d done to her. She wanted him, and that in and of itself was the same as cheating.

The thought made her want to throw up.

She was just like her father.

She shuddered, and the flight attendant was at her side in moments. One of the perks of business class. “Do you need a blanket, Ms. Hansen?”

Blair smiled up at her. “No. I’m fine. Thanks.” Of course, she was anything but fine. She prided herself on never falling to pieces, no matter what the situation, but now she felt like a shattered sheet of glass. And she had no idea what to do about that.

Her plane landed after nine, and she checked her phone to see multiple missed calls during the flight from the office and one from Neil. She groaned as she pulled her carry-on bag from the overhead bin. She hadn’t called anyone the night before to tell them about being grounded in Phoenix.

She called her assistant as she walked to the terminal.

“Oh, my God, Blair!” Melissa gushed as soon as she answered. “I’ve been worried sick. I tried to call you last night, and you never answered.”

“I’m sorry. I got stuck in Phoenix overnight—gusting winds or some such shit. I just landed, but I’m going to be late. Stall Lopez for the deposition.” She chuckled. “That shouldn’t be too hard. I doubt he’s eager to see me after our last encounter.”

“Um . . . Lopez couldn’t make it. They’ve sent someone else from his firm, but he’s going to be late too. He says he should be here around eleven.”

“They change attorneys last minute, and the new guy can’t even bother to show up on time? Never mind.” Blair shook her head, getting angry as she maneuvered her rolling bag through the mass of people standing at the gate. She wasn’t going to be on time either, but it was the principle of the matter. “Then I’m going home to shower. I slept in my clothes last night, and I don’t have a clean change of clothes in my bag.”

“But you have an appointment at ten forty-five with Ben Stuart. In his office.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she stopped moving, causing a man to slam into her back. He broke out into a string of curses as she moved to the side. “Wait. Ben? Why?”

“He didn’t say, but he told me to keep it secret. Off the books, even.”

She sucked in a breath. Ben was a junior partner, and although he’d introduced Blair to Neil two years ago, they rarely spoke, and they never had meetings.

She started walking again. If she was meeting with Ben, then she definitely needed a shower and a change of clothes. Something was amiss. “But I was supposed to be in the deposition at ten. When did he request the meeting?”

“He came down here looking for you this morning. He found out about the deposition delay and told me to have you swing by his office at ten forty-five.”

“You didn’t tell him you didn’t know where I was, did you?” she asked in a panic.

“Do you take me for an amateur? No, I covered for you.”

True, she’d been in L.A. for a work matter, and she couldn’t help the plane delays, but no one at Sisco, Sisco, and Reece liked to hear excuses. And Blair did her damnedest to make sure she never needed one. While Ben was only a junior partner, he still had voting power, and it was rumored he had influence with the senior partner Robert Sisco Sr. himself. “Thanks, Melissa. I owe you,” she said as she hurried through the sliding glass doors and out into the August heat.

August was miserable in Kansas City. It was hot and humid, and it was landlocked besides, so there was no escaping to the beach. Why Neil’s parents had insisted on an August wedding was beyond her, but it wasn’t worth fighting over. She wasn’t one of those girls who made a huge fuss over wedding frills, although that wasn’t to say she wasn’t obsessed over the details. The senior and junior partners at the firm were invited to the wedding, and they and their wives would critique every detail, down to the distance between the tines on the salad forks. Blair wasn’t about to give them a single reason to deny her partnership.

Melissa lowered her voice. “There are rumors going around that they’re about to offer someone a partnership. Maybe the meeting is about that. Just take me with you when you get Rolland’s corner office, and we’ll call it good.”

While Blair hoped it was true, she couldn’t see how. A senior partner would be offering her the position, not a junior partner. “You know I wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind. I can’t function without you. Speaking of the corner office, have you checked with the caterer?”

“Yes, he left a message that they’re substituting shrimp for the crab. I plan to call him and let him know there will be absolutely no substitutions. His contract says they are part of the menu, and the fact that they’ve gone up in price isn’t our concern.”

Blair felt a stab of guilt. Ordinarily, she would have let the crab legs go, but Robert Sr. loved crab legs. She’d heard stories of Robert Sr. walking out of dinners that didn’t provide them, and she needed him to stay for at least half the reception. Rumor had it that he was happy if he stayed until the dancing started. She wasn’t about to push her luck. “Good. Anything else I should be aware of?”

“Um. . .” She hesitated. “I’ll tell you when you get in.”

Blair stopped next to her car and dug her keys out of her purse. “No, tell me now. I can’t take any more surprises.” She liked to be prepared for any outcome, and surprises left her scrambling.

“Dr. Fredrick’s mother called. She has another change.”

“What? What is it this time?” Blair stopped, her car door half-open. His mother had been nothing short of a nightmare with all her changes and substitutions. Debra Fredrick was a tacky, judgmental, small-town, small-minded woman who had already involved herself in every minute decision involving the wedding. Blair had agreed to some of her suggested changes to keep peace, like putting Neil’s brother’s fiancée in charge of the guest book to give her a role in the wedding. Or like agreeing to her tacky rehearsal dinner plans. After all, any negotiation was about picking your battles, and it had been much more important to refuse Debra’s suggestion that the groom’s cake be changed to a clown. Apparently Neil had been one of the only children in the world to love clowns rather than finding them terrifying. Blair shuddered to imagine what the woman wanted, especially since her demands had gotten more and more outrageous the closer they got to the wedding. Just last week she’d nixed Debra’s plan of releasing doves with helium balloons tied to the birds’ feet. Blair had tried to convince her it was unnecessary since the birds were capable of flight. Nothing had swayed her, so Melissa had made an anonymous call, and Debra had found herself facing the very real threat of PETA picketing outside the church and ruining the wedding.

“She says her mother is switching out Neil’s friend Sean for Neil’s cousin from San Diego as one of his groomsmen.”

Blair threw her purse across the driver’s seat. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was.” She could practically hear Melissa’s cringe.

Blair groaned as she wrestled her suitcase into the backseat. “Unless he’s five foot two, he’ll never fit in Sean’s tux. They’ll need his measurements, and he probably won’t be here until Friday, and God only knows if they’ll even have a tux in his size—”

“I’m on it, Blair. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you.” Her voice broke, and embarrassment washed through her. Her encounter with Garrett had affected her more than she liked. She needed to get her shit together. She couldn’t afford to look like one of those emotional brides. Even with Melissa. One of the things the partners at her firm liked most about her was that she rarely showed emotion. She wasn’t about to start now. “I’ll be there by ten forty-five. Make sure Mrs. Norfolk knows the deposition has been postponed, and make sure she has her—”

“Half-caf, soy-milk latte. I know, Blair. Go shower. I’ll have everything ready for you when you get here.”

“Thanks.” She hung up and headed out of the parking lot. As soon as she paid her parking fee, she called Neil, guilt washing through her. Should she confess about her encounter with Garrett? But she had no idea what had even happened. Maybe she should wait and see if she remembered more details as the day went on. Lost in her turmoil, she was surprised when he answered. He was usually tied up with rounds in the morning. She’d expected to leave a message.

“Hey . . . Blair . . .” He sounded distracted. And out of breath. “How was your trip? What time did you get in last night?”

“You weren’t at my condo?” she asked in surprise, scrambling with what to say. “I got stuck in Phoenix. Weather. Sorry I didn’t call. Why aren’t you at work?”

“I figured you got hung up. It was late when I got off, so I just stayed at my place. I don’t have to be at the hospital for another hour. But hey, while I have you, I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about the family dinner tonight.”

She shook her head in confusion, even if he couldn’t see it. “What family dinner? We’re all going to Boulevard Brewery for the tasting and dinner Thursday night.”

“Sorry, Blair. Mom’s decided to have a pre-wedding festivity dinner tonight at a barbeque restaurant. Just you, me, Mom, and Dad.”

“You did not tell me that.” If he had, she would have nixed it right away. Which was probably why she was only hearing about it now. Blair had no delusions about the real reason Debra Fredrick was in town four days early. This was her pathetic attempt at a power grab over the remaining details of the wedding. She was hoping Blair would be too busy with her job to notice—a job Debra Fredrick hated, but would use to her advantage, nonetheless.

“Well, now you know. And you have to go. Mom said she left a message with Melissa, so I’m sure you already heard the news, but my asshole cousin is going to be in the wedding. Mom’s about ready to have a seizure.”

“If you think he’s an asshole, then why the hell are you having him in the wedding?” And why hadn’t he told her himself?

“I’m not. And neither is Mom, so don’t take it out on her. This change has been decreed by Nana Ruby.”

“Well, just tell her no. Your mom needs to get her under control, Neil.” She sounded dismissive and mean, but she was already on edge. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Tell you what. You tell Nana Ruby no. You’ll get your chance tomorrow night. She’s coming early and has declared Thursday to be Family Fun Day.”

There was the sound of running water in the background, and she was almost certain she heard a woman’s voice. “Is someone with you?” Suspicion had crept into her voice, catching her by surprise. She was obviously deflecting her own guilt.

He paused. “It’s the television, Blair. One of those morning talk shows with women hosts. What are you accusing me of?” His voice was tight with anger.

“Nothing. Sorry.” She was really losing it. Neil had the libido of a sloth. He was the last person she’d suspect of cheating. It was one of his most appealing traits.

“Mom’s going to text you the address of the restaurant. She says to be there by six.”

She stifled a groan. The last thing she needed was a night of fun with his mother. “I’ll try my best.”

“There is no try. Only do.” His tone was stern, but she heard the hint of teasing.

Blair rolled her eyes, but she felt a stab of nostalgia. He’d been so horrified to learn she’d never seen Star Wars that he’d insisted on a six-movie marathon to make up for lost time. That was back at the beginning of their relationship, when they used to have fun. She couldn’t remember when that had changed. “Whatever, Yoda. See you later.”

As she hung up, she mulled over the fact that they hardly ever said I love you. Megan and her husband said it to each other often enough to make everyone sick . . . but still sort of happy for them. And then there was that other issue. She and Neil had sex once a week, which was more often than they professed their love. But it had been that way for a while, and she hadn’t had a problem with it yesterday morning. Why did it suddenly bother her today? That damn Garrett. He was ruining everything all over again.

Her chest felt tight, and she sucked in several deep breaths. Cold feet. That’s all this was. It was normal to feel nervous right before such a life-changing experience. She would have called Megan to talk about it, but the last thing she wanted to hear about right now was Megan’s super-happy, crazy-in-love domestic life. It would only make things worse.

Libby. Blair could call her other best friend, Libby.

She pressed the speed dial number and instantly had second thoughts. Megan, Libby, and Blair had been best friends since kindergarten. Even back in grade school Libby was notorious for sleeping late, so there was a chance she would wake her up, but her friend answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Blair!”

“Why do you sound so awake? And chipper?”

“I just dropped Noah off at Megan’s dad’s office . . . well I guess it’s his office now too.”

Blair blinked. “Why were you taking him to the office?”

“He and Josh are only in town from Seattle for a couple of meetings and the wedding, so they’re sharing a rental car to save expenses. Noah and I went out to breakfast this morning, so I dropped him off.”

Megan’s father’s engineering firm had recently merged with Josh and Noah’s firm in Seattle. Somewhere in the middle of Josh and Megan’s whirlwind courtship, Noah and Libby had become friends. Close friends from the sound of things, which wouldn’t have been so strange if Noah weren’t a serial womanizer and Libby didn’t hop from man to man. “Did you finally break up with Mitch?”

Libby was quiet for a moment, but she definitely sounded less happy when she asked, “Why would you think I broke up with Mitch?”

“Libs, you know this is like a record for you, right? How long have you been together? Six months?”

“I’m not getting any younger, Blair. I turn thirty in a few months.”

If it had been anyone else, Blair would have figured she was bemoaning her biological clock. But she knew her friend too well for that. “Libby, tell me you’re not talking about that damned wedding pact slash curse again.”

Libby let out a groan. “You think whatever you like, Blair Hansen, but there’s no denying that you’re turning thirty in a few months too, and you’re getting married in five days.”

Blair released a loud sigh. “Libby, please don’t tell me that you plan on marrying Mitch because of the pact. We made that pact when we were nine. Hell, you’re the only one who still takes it seriously. Megan and I forgot all about it. And I don’t want to hear another word about the nonsense that fortune teller told us twenty years ago. Yes, she was right about Megan, but any idiot can win the lottery once. Seriously, not another word.”

“And yet you will both be married by your birthdays.” She sounded shorter than usual.

“That’s purely coincidence, Libs.” She softened her tone. “Look, I love you, and I know a lot of the time we don’t see eye-to-eye, but I would really hate for you to get married for the wrong reason.”

“Because you’re getting married for the right reason.”

It wasn’t a question, nor was there any malice in her tone. So why did it hurt so much? Maybe because she had called to get reassurance from her friend and there was no way she’d confess her concerns now. “I don’t want to fight with you, Libby. Especially not this week. I need you.”

“I’m sorry,” Libby said, her voice softening as well. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“Your friend is all set to photograph the wedding?”

Libby laughed. “Yes, and I’ve already talked to your assistant about it this morning. Barry’s going to do a great job, Blair. He was my intern, and he’s fantastic. In fact, I won’t trust anyone else to photograph my own wedding when the time comes. Plus I’ll take photos of my own at the reception. Relax. I’m going to be personally taking care of this for you.”

Out of the three of them, Libby tended to be the most irresponsible, but she took her career very seriously. There was no way she would let Blair’s wedding photos turn into a disaster. “Thank God. With all the other issues—”

“What other issues?” Libby asked a little too eagerly.

Why had she said that? She was only feeding Libby’s odd obsession with their weddings. “My wedding isn’t cursed.”

“Of course it’s not.” She paused. “You’re cursed.”

“Libby! What did I tell you?”

“I have to go, Blair,” Libby said, sounding distracted. “Noah’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later.”

Before Blair could ask her anything about her odd friendship with Noah, she hung up.

A little over an hour later, Blair walked into the office wearing a black long-sleeve, scooped-neck blouse, white pencil skirt, and nude pumps, her damp hair pulled up in a neat French roll. She stopped to check in with Melissa, who assured her that Mrs. Norfolk was already in the conference room and drinking her latte.

“Has Mr. Norfolk’s attorney shown up yet?” When Melissa shook her head, Blair asked, “And we’re sure someone’s coming?”

“Yes, he called about ten minutes ago, saying he was almost here. His plane got delayed by the weather too.”

Blair sucked in a deep breath at the reminder of Phoenix. More and more pieces of last night had come into memory, and while she was thankful that nothing had happened between her and Garrett, she couldn’t ignore the part of her that was disappointed over it. But right now she needed to deal with her meeting and deposition. Her guilt could rear its head later. “Great. Well, I’m off to see Ben.”

“Good luck! Maybe I should order out for a celebratory lunch.”

Blair put a hand on her stomach to soothe her nerves. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. This could be about anything.”

Melissa flashed her a grin as Blair headed for the staircase that joined the two floors.

When she stopped next to Ben Stuart’s assistant’s desk promptly at 10:44, she glanced up at her with a questioning glance. “Can I help you?”

Ben appeared in his office doorway and motioned toward her. “Hey, Blair. Why don’t you come in and tell me all about the wedding? I haven’t talked to Neil in ages.”

She tried to hide her confusion. Had he set up this meeting to chat about her wedding? She’d rather be downstairs preparing for her deposition. Hiding her irritation, she followed him into his plush office. He shut the door behind her, and she walked toward his desk, taking in his gorgeous view of the Country Club Plaza.

“Thanks for fitting me in,” he said as he gestured for her to sit in one of two leather chairs in front of his desk. “I thought you’d want to hear this.”

Now she was curious. She’d rather stand, but she was on Ben’s turf, and she suspected he was right; she wanted to hear whatever he had to tell her. She settled into a leather wingback chair while he perched on the edge of his desk.

“We’re voting on a new partner next week.”

She should have been happy to hear this, but something in his voice was off. “Why am I worried this is bad news?”

He grimaced and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Listen, you have to swear to me that you’ll never say you heard this from me.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“It’s between you and York.”

“George York?” He’d been at the firm longer than she had, but he brought in fewer billable hours. “Why would they choose him over me?”

“Look,” he stalled. “This is the sticky part that you can’t let on that you know. I’m only warning you because this affects Neil too, but I’ll get canned if they find out I said anything.”

“I won’t tell. I swear. What is it?” How bad could this be?

“Some of the partners are concerned that you’re too blunt and direct.”

She shook her head in confusion. “How is that possible? Why wouldn’t they want me to be blunt and direct?”

He shifted on the desk, looking uncomfortable. “Some of them were born before dinosaurs roamed the earth. Given the choice between a confrontational woman and a mediocre guy, they’ll pick the guy.” He shrugged. “You know how it is.”

She stood, her anger rising. “No. I don’t know how it is.”

He held up his hands in defense. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

He was right, but it didn’t ease her anger. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Would they rather I play nice and lose cases?”

“No, I think they just want to see you’re capable of having a softer side.”

“So they want me to bake some cookies and bring them in?” she asked, her voice rising.

“No. I’ve convinced them to hold off the vote until next week.” He paused for a moment. “Until after your wedding.”

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“The fact you’re getting married is in your favor. They want a married partner, and it’s seen as a plus that Neil’s a doctor.” He cringed. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”

She waved her hand in dismissal. “You already said that, and I won’t tell anyone, I swear. But if they want a married partner, why not go with me? George York isn’t married, and if the office rumor mill is to be believed, he isn’t even dating anyone.”

“Like I said, a few old—but influential—coots are worried you’re not feminine enough.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me. That’s sexist, not to mention illegal.”

His eyes hardened. “I swear to God, Blair, if you file a suit, I’ll lie through my teeth and deny it all. You’ll lose the case and your career.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Stop being such a drama king. I wouldn’t do that.” She knew it would be career suicide, but it didn’t mean she didn’t wish she could make them pay.

“Listen, it’s not all of them, and they can be swayed. All you have to do is show up at your wedding in a pretty dress and smile like a demure blushing bride. Then you’ll check the marriage box while being sweet and covered in white lace or taffeta or whatever the hell your dress is made from. You’ll be a shoo-in. I’ll make sure of it.”

She had to wonder if she wanted to be a partner. She already knew from personal past experience that some of the partners were sexist, so if the others were really that sexist . . . But she reminded herself that Ben was right—the older partners were in their sixties and seventies. They’d be out soon, one way or the other. She also reminded herself that she and Ben weren’t friends, despite his role in introducing her to Neil. He had no obligation to tell her anything. In fact, he was going out on a limb.

“Well, thank you for the heads-up.” She glanced at the clock and took several steps toward the door.

“A couple of other things, Blair.”

She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“I think Rob Sisco Jr. might be watching your performance for the rest of the week. And he’s looking for reasons to vote against you.”

Her mouth dropped, but she quickly recovered. “Thanks. What’s the other?”

He grimaced. “If they don’t make you partner, they’re letting you go.”

“What?”

His jaw tensed. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

She nodded as she walked out of his office, shell-shocked.

“Tell Neil I’ll see him at the reception,” he called after her.

She was momentarily confused before she quickly recovered. “Yeah. He’s excited to see you.”

She tried to act normal as she made her way back to Melissa’s desk, sorting through Ben’s bombshell announcement. She should be pissed. She should be ready to fight, but she was too numb to feel anything.

Melissa looked up at her, smiling with excitement. “Well?”

It was nearly eleven, and even if Blair could share her conversation with Ben, she needed to process everything first. “Has Lopez’s replacement arrived yet?”

“Yes, he’s in the conference room with the younger Mr. Sisco.” Worry filled Melissa’s eyes.

“Shit.” So Ben’s information had been spot on.

Melissa leaned forward, her face pale. “What’s going on, Blair? I take it you weren’t offered a partnership.”

“I can’t get into it right now.” She started to feel lightheaded, but she couldn’t let her job performance suffer now. Now, more than ever, she had to prove she was worth keeping on staff. “I’ll tell you about it later. In the meantime, I need you to discreetly find out if any firms are looking for an associate attorney. You can not mention my name.”

“What?” Melissa’s eyes flew open, and Blair instantly regretted mentioning it without more explanation. Not that it would help. The outlook was bad any way she presented it.

Instead, she left the poor woman behind as she hurried down the hall and stopped outside the conference room. She took a moment to put her game face on, feeling more unprepared to deal with this deposition than any she’d had since graduating from law school. Knocking on the door, she walked into the conference room, then nearly passed out when she saw the opposing counsel.

Garrett Lowry.

Chapter Four

Garrett was in a foul mood as he walked into the law offices of Sisco, Sisco, and Reece. He’d been uncharacteristically distraught and surly most of the morning, but he’d assured himself that he might still have a shot with Blair. Perhaps the fact that she’d left like that—without saying anything—meant that she felt something for him. Hell, he’d just use his staff to track her down. Then he’d go to her and present his case. While the first part of his plan would be relatively easy since she was a practicing attorney, the plan for the later part was sketchy at best. But at least he had a vague hint of a plan. It was enough to put his mind at ease so he could concentrate on the deposition.

He stopped at the front desk, and the receptionist gave him an appreciative stare. “I’m Garrett Lowry here for the Norfolk deposition. Can you let B.A. Hansen know I’m here?”

She made a call to the back, then gave him a friendly smile. “Ms. Hansen’s assistant will be with you in a moment to show you to the conference room.”

A pretty blonde opened one of the glass doors that cordoned off the back offices. “Mr. Lowry, if you’ll follow me.” As she started down the hall, he pushed all thoughts of Blair out of his head. If he screwed up this case, then he’d be the laughingstock of the office.

A middle-aged man greeted him outside the conference room. “Good morning, Mr. Lowry. I’m Rob Sisco Jr., one of the partners here, and I’m going to sit in on the deposition.”

Ms. Hansen’s assistant seemed taken aback by the news, and Garrett was surprised himself. Philip Lopez was no bumbling fool, which meant Ms. Hansen had to be on top of her game. Garrett had to wonder what could have precipitated this supervision.

Rob Sisco pushed the door open and allowed Garrett to enter.

There were two people already seated at the conference table—one was obviously the court reporter, and the other was a woman who looked to be in her mid-fifties. Her blonde hair hung to her shoulders, and while she had a few extra pounds around her middle, she was an attractive woman. She looked up at them, then glanced back at the door. “Where’s Blair?”

Good God. Was he so thoroughly haunted by his ex-girlfriend that the opposing counsel had her name? He suddenly felt like Ebenezer Scrooge—forced by the ghosts of his past to face all his wrongs and inadequacies.

Rob Sisco offered her a smile, but it came across as patronizing. “She’ll be here in a moment.” Then he looked at his watch and stifled a yawn.

Garrett swallowed the urge to ask the guy if he was bored. Instead he sat on the other side of the table, across from Ms. Hansen’s client, and pulled out his laptop so he could open the document of questions he’d prepared.

Sisco took a seat several chairs down and started drumming his fingers on the table, not stopping when Mrs. Norfolk shot him an irritated glance.

Garrett glanced up at the clock on the wall. 10:59. Jesus, this was going to be a long week.

He glanced toward the glass door, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Blair—his Blair—standing in the hall, wearing a long-sleeve black blouse and a white skirt, her hair up in a twist. How could she be here of all places? But the dozens of questions running through his head gave way to concern as he studied her. She looked off, like something had upset her. But even as he watched, she steeled herself and shook off whatever was going on. He could tell by the way she straightened her shoulders and turned toward the door with confidence and authority. It burst open, and Garrett stood as she entered, still in shock. Why was she going by B.A. Hansen when she was Blair Myers? A moment of panic washed through him—could Hansen be her married name?—but then it hit him. Hansen was her mother’s maiden name, and the A was from her middle name—Anne.

He’d found her and he hadn’t even tried. They hadn’t seen each other since law school, and now they’d been thrown together twice in two days. This had to be the universe telling him to pursue her. He felt more hopeful than he had in years.

She stopped behind one of the empty chairs, her face turning several shades lighter as her eyes searched his face, probably trying to verify that it was indeed him.

“Blair?” Sisco asked. “Is there a problem?”

She gave an involuntary shudder, then forced a smile as she moved to the table. “No. Of course not.” She extended her hand to him over the table. “Blair Hansen. I hear you’re taking Philip Lopez’s place.”

He leaned over and shook her hand. So she wanted to play it like they were strangers. He understood the reasoning—he’d probably do the same thing in her situation—but it felt odd to pretend he didn’t know her when he’d held her in his arms the night before. “Garrett Lowry.”

“Have a seat, Mr. Lowry.” She waved toward his chair and waited until he took a seat before she did the same. As soon as she was settled, she placed a legal pad with neatly written notes on the table in front of her. He wasn’t surprised. She’d always preferred to handwrite her notes in law school versus using a laptop.

She studied her pad for several seconds, then reached for the water pitcher in the middle of the table and poured a glass. He saw a tremor in her hand as she lifted the glass to her lips. She was obviously shocked to see him, but she’d looked shaken up before she even stepped into the room. Something else had happened, something unrelated to the realization that they’d be sparring partners this week. She needed time to recover, and he was going to give it to her. He turned to the reporter.

“Do you have the physical address and email address of my office in San Diego?”

She looked up in surprise. “Of course.”

“Could you read it off to me so I can make sure it’s correct? We’ve recently moved offices.”

She rattled off both, then looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

“Thank you.” He smiled and caught a glimpse of Blair out of the corner of his eye. Most of her color had returned, and she looked more prepared.

She took a deep breath. “Let’s begin.”

In many ways, it was a routine deposition. Rowena Norfolk was accusing her husband of philandering with multiple twenty-something-year-old women. Garrett had read Lopez’s notes. She was right. Now Mr. Norfolk wanted to divorce the current Mrs. Norfolk and marry version 2.0. The current Mrs. Norfolk wanted to make him pay for his indiscretions, and Blair Hansen was pushing hard to make that happen.

There wasn’t much Garrett could do to discredit her story. Hers was the vanilla side of their divorce, and both attorneys knew it. For all intents and purposes, Mrs. Norfolk was the victim. The juicy details would come out when Blair deposed Lopez’s client and his girlfriends.

While Rowena Norfolk came across as the victim, it was Garrett’s job to find any discrepancies that might discredit her innocence, which meant he had to act like an ass. Fortunately for him, he was fairly good at it. He had a few nuggets to dig into from her answers in discovery. Rowena’s husband had suggested his soon-to-be ex-wife had hidden money before the separation, and what was more, had committed an indiscretion of her own. Garrett was fully prepared to weasel the information out of her—if there was any grain of truth to it—but try as he might, his usual tactics didn’t work. Blair and Rowena stonewalled him at nearly every opportunity. Blair was protective of the woman, stopping him multiple times when she thought his questions went too far.

Sisco left halfway through the deposition, and Garrett could see some of the tension leave Blair’s shoulders. Was this why she’d seemed so upset last night? Was she in trouble at work? He couldn’t imagine why. She’d sure as hell convinced Lopez she was a hard ass—the most coveted reputation an attorney could earn. He also knew Blair enough to know she was not the type to break rules or skirt the edges of morality. What could she be in trouble for?

When he finished his questions, he thanked Blair’s client and stood to leave. He wanted to talk to Blair, but he couldn’t do that in front of Mrs. Norfolk. He walked out of the conference room, taking satisfaction in the way Blair’s gaze followed him.

It was a little after noon now, and their next deposition was at three. Maybe he could convince Blair to join him for lunch. The Country Club Plaza was only a couple of blocks away, and they’d have time to talk and get back for the meeting. If Blair was like any other professional, the best way to get in the figurative and literal door was through her assistant. Good thing he knew who her assistant was, even if he didn’t know her name.

The short hallway he’d come down had been lined by conference rooms, so he headed down the perpendicular hallway, looking for the woman who’d led him to the conference room. He found an open area with several desks outside a bank of offices and saw her sitting at one of the desks. She had a phone to her ear and was arguing.

“I don’t care if you have to fly that crab from Timbuktu—you will have it here for the reception, or we will sue you for breach of contract. Got it?”

He grinned as he listened to her end of the conversation. He could tell Blair had rubbed off on her.

She glanced up at him and her eyes widened. “If there are any more issues, I’ll expect you to call me immediately.” She hung up and grimaced. “Can I help you, Mr. Lowry?”

“You’re Blair’s assistant, correct?”

Her guard went up. “Yes, I’m Ms. Hansen’s assistant.”

“Does Ms. Hansen have lunch plans?”

The woman couldn’t have looked more surprised. “Uh . . .”

He sat on the edge of her desk and leaned closer, waggling his finger at her computer. “Come on,” he teased, knowing he was pouring on the Garrett Lowry charm a little too heavy. “Just squeeze me in there. A quiet little lunch for two.”

“That sounds cozy,” Blair said, her tone short.

Garrett jerked upright, cursing under his breath. “Blair.”

Her eyes narrowed with disgust. She skirted around him and walked into her office. “Well, don’t let me stop you. You two have a great time.” She slammed the door behind her, and her assistant shot him a death glare.

“I think that’s your answer, Mr. Lowry.”

Ouch. Garrett stood. “Maybe I should go talk to her.”

She reached under her desk and pulled up her three-inch pump. “You go near the door, and I’ll gouge your eye out with my heel.” Her jaw clenched with anger.

Her reaction caught him by surprise. While she was admittedly very loyal to her boss, her statement seemed a little strong given the situation, if not unprofessional. Frustrated, he considered threatening to report her, but that would only piss off Blair even more. He needed to regroup and come up with a new way to convince Blair to talk to him. Garrett held his hands up in surrender. “I’m rather fond of my eyes, so I guess I’ll go to lunch on my own.”

“Good idea.”

“I’ll go to lunch with you!” a brunette called out from a nearby desk, her voice all sultry promise.

He grinned and pointed his finger at her. “I’m gonna take a rain check, sweetheart.”

He walked out angry, but he only had himself to blame. He’d laid the foundation for Blair to believe he was hitting on her assistant, which meant he was back to square one, not that he’d even gotten very far. Blair was a proud woman, and he’d broken her heart five years ago—just as he’d broken his own.

Well, he couldn’t change the past. He could only move forward, and if nothing else, Garrett Lowry was a stubborn man. He wasn’t giving up that easy. Not this time. Now that she was back in his life—and it was truly starting to seem like this was kismet, even though he and Blair had always laughed at such romantic notions—he was going to try his best to earn another chance.

He went to his hotel and wheedled his way into an early check-in, then grabbed a sandwich before heading back to Blair’s office. His phone rang when he was almost there, and he groaned when he saw it was Nana Ruby.

“Hey, Nana. I’m here in Kansas City. Happy?”

“Hell no, I’m not happy. Your mom and your aunt are at it worse than ever.”

“You seriously thought making me a groomsman would improve the situation?”

“Your aunt and uncle are having dinner with Neil and his fiancée tonight. You’re going with them.”

“Nana. No. I have something else I need to do.” He had hoped to convince Blair to talk after the deposition, maybe even grab coffee.

“The only thing you need to do is help settle this family war. Suck it up, boy. Your aunt’s gonna text you the address. Dinner’s at six.”

Great. Just what he needed. Dinner with his mouthy aunt, his whipped uncle, his dick cousin, and said cousin’s fiancée, who was probably as dull as dirt given her choice of mate. Yippee. He couldn’t wait.

He arrived at Blair’s office forty-five minutes early and asked for early access to a room so he could have somewhere private to prepare. He had no delusions that the next deposition would go so well. Blair was deposing one of Brian Norfolk’s indiscretions, and he expected her to bring her A-game and then some.

The receptionist must have heard about his disastrous attempt to secure a lunch date with Blair. She batted her eyelashes and told him she was free for dinner.

“Sorry,” he said with a grin. “I have plans.”

“Maybe tomorrow?” She sounded hopeful.

“What I really need right now is that room . . .” His words trailed off, and she got the hint.

She stood and opened the door to the back with her keycard. “There’s a small room where you can work. I’ll show you.” Then she led him down a hall and pushed open a door, revealing a table surrounded by four chairs. A phone sat on the table next to the wall. “I’ll let Melissa know you’re here, and someone will come get you when it’s time.”

“Do you know if Ms. Keating has arrived yet?”

She shook her head. “She hasn’t, but I can bring her back here when she arrives if you’d like.”

“Thanks.”

He went over his notes until Ms. Keating arrived about twenty minutes later. Between her short, tight dress, her exposed cleavage, and her heavy makeup, she looked like a toss-up between a hooker or a stripper, and neither was a good option for them.

“Did Mr. Lopez not discuss the importance of dressing conservatively?”

She looked herself up and down, batting her eyelashes. “This is conservative.”

Good God. What did her version of seductive look like? He tried prepping her for possible questions Blair might ask, but it soon became apparent that Brian Norfolk’s interest had been in her looks and not in her intelligence.

There was a knock on the door, and Melissa poked her head in. “We’re ready for you in the conference room.”

The bloodbath he watched unfold in front of him for the next two hours didn’t come as a surprise, but it didn’t exactly help his ego either. Blair was relentless, and though Tiffany Keating tried to evade Blair’s questions, the younger woman was soon spilling her guts, despite Garrett’s constant counsel to the contrary.

When Blair finally announced she was done, Garrett figured if there was ever a time she might talk to him, it was now, when he was thoroughly beaten. Perhaps she’d take pity. But she got up from the table and left the room. He would have given anything to follow after her, but he had to deal with Tiffany Keating first.

“Did I do good?” she asked, batting her eyes.

“You answered truthfully,” he hedged. “That’s the important part.”

A grin spread across her face. “Say, do you want to get a drink?”

Garrett forced a friendly smile. “Thanks, but I have plans.”

She stood and leaned into him. “How long are you in town?”

“I’m really not sure, but I’m going to be busy the entire time I’m here.”

“Well, if you change your mind . . .” She lifted her eyebrows, her voice heavy with innuendo.

He escorted her out to the reception area and saw her off, glad to part ways with her, mostly because she reminded him of one of the flakes he’d dated after he threw Blair away. He didn’t deserve a second chance with that powerful, beautiful Amazon of a woman he’d seen in action in the conference room just now, but damned if he wasn’t going to try anyway. Tomorrow.

He had another battle to prepare for tonight.

Chapter Five

Blair sat in her office, staring at her blank computer screen. How had her life turned so effectively to shit in less than twenty-four hours? What had Sisco thought of her performance during the deposition? She’d been slower to react than usual. Had he noticed? He’d walked out halfway through. Did that mean she’d done well in his eyes, or had he already decided to vote against her?

“Blair?” Melissa stood in the doorway, worry in her eyes. “I’ve made some calls in regard to your earlier request. Do you have time for a report?”

One of the things Blair loved about Melissa was the way she always knew when to press a matter and when to leave it. Melissa had no doubt been desperate to ask her questions all afternoon, but she’d waited until she had her own information to share. Of course, Blair couldn’t tell her the truth without breaking Ben’s confidence.

Blair shook her head and forced a smile. “Yeah.”

Her assistant shut the door and stood in front of her desk, lowering her voice. “I talked to a few sources at some of the bigger firms, and no one’s looking to bring on associate attorneys. In fact, Morrow and Smith is downsizing.”

“And the smaller firms?”

Melissa shook her head. “The only firm that’s currently looking is Chester, Williams, and Horn.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “They’re practically ambulance chasers. So there’s nothing?”

“No. Now what’s going on?”

Blair tried to ignore the tightness in her chest. “I can’t tell you.”

“Blair.”

She shook her head. “I promised not to tell.”

“Are you losing your job?”

She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. “Of course not.” She forced a smile. “It doesn’t hurt to put out feelers.”

“Blair.” Melissa paused and moved forward, crossing her arms over her chest. “I need to know if I should start looking for a job.”

Oh God. She’d lose her position too. Blair wanted to tell her everything was okay, but she refused to lie to her. “I don’t know. But if you do, I’ll write you the best damned reference letter ever written.” A lump formed in her throat, and her numbness finally dissolved into anger. It was one thing to screw with Blair, but another to screw with someone she cared about. “I promise you I’ll make this right.” Her voice shook, and she clenched her fists.

“You can tell me what happened. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

Blair looked at her assistant for a long moment, wishing she could bring Melissa into her confidence. While she knew her assistant wouldn’t blab, this was too serious to take the risk. “I’ll know something next week. I’ll tell you then.”

“You’ll be on your honeymoon next week.”

How could she enjoy herself on her honeymoon if her job hung on the balance? The pins holding her control in place had begun to slip loose. She could not flip out now. She cleared her throat. “Now tell me what you found out on the status of Brian Norfolk’s side bank account.”

“Blair.” Melissa’s voice was softer than usual. “How do you know Garrett Lowry?”

She turned to look at her assistant, her breath catching in her already tight chest. Just hearing his name sent her heart racing, and that was not good.

“I’m not stupid. I can tell you have a history with that guy.”

Blair shook her head. “That’s water under the bridge in my ancient past.” She forced her smile even brighter. “I’m over all that now.”

The look on Melissa’s face said she didn’t buy it for a minute. “For what it’s worth, he was using his charm to get me to set up a lunch with you.”

“Why?” Her stomach dropped to her toes. So he hadn’t been trying to get a date with her assistant. The relief she felt from the knowledge was disconcerting.

“He didn’t say, but he seemed determined.”

Blair steeled her back. “That’s out of the question.”

“I figured.” Melissa hesitated. “But he is cute.”

Her hand tightened around a pen on her desk. “I’m getting married on Saturday.” She hadn’t seen Garrett in years, yet now she’d seen him twice in a matter of twenty-four hours, and it was making her question everything. She had to focus on what was important. Her job. Melissa’s job. Her upcoming nuptials. Marriage with Neil. She was furious with herself for giving Garrett the power to threaten the world she’d built for herself, simply by walking back into her life, even if it was coincidental. “Melissa. This wedding has to be absolutely perfect.”

“It will be.”

She frowned. “I need to make sure that absolutely nothing goes wrong with this wedding.” She paused, then lowered her voice and stared into her assistant’s eyes. “Everything is riding on this.”

Melissa watched her for a moment, obviously confused as to how a matrimonial ceremony could affect everything. But typical Melissa, she accepted Blair at her word. “And nothing will. It will be perfect. I promise.”

Blair knew she could count on her assistant, so she had left many of the wedding details in her capable hands, especially since she had so many other issues on her plate.

She offered her a weak smile. “You’ve helped me so much, and this completely goes above and beyond anything in your job description—especially since my wedding planner skipped town. Now it’s more important than ever. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Melissa held up her hand. “Please stop. You’re the best boss I’ve ever had, and I’d do anything and everything to help you. And right now, I feel obligated to point out that you have a dinner with your future in-laws in less than twenty minutes.”

“Oh shit.” Blair groaned. “I really can’t face them tonight.”

“Maybe you can pretend to have a headache so you can leave early.”

Blair perked up. “Great idea.”

“I know. I’m full of them. See you tomorrow.” She walked out of the office and closed the door behind her.

Blair scanned the mass of files piled on her desk, but instead of cases, she saw women who had been cheated, used, and then dumped. Women like her mother, who’d lost everything in the divorce—her house, her identity, and her dignity. Not to mention the fact that she’d been thrown back into the work force without any experience after nearly twenty years, at her ex’s insistence. Her attorney hadn’t given two shits about her and had done the bare minimum to settle the case. And then Blair’s father had gone and died five years later, leaving nothing to either his ex-wife or his daughter. Blair hadn’t wanted anything of his, but her mother had deserved more.

But it was partly because of him that she had her career—a career she loved at the end of the day, in spite of the pettiness and sexism of her bosses. If she lost her job, she’d be forced to start from the beginning and probably in some other city. Neil’s practice was in Kansas City, and he’d already let her know he loved his position and had no intention of moving if another opportunity ever came her way. She was stuck.

Neil’s mother, Debra, had picked a hole-in-the-wall barbeque joint on the Kansas side of the city. Someplace Blair would feel totally out of place in with her business attire. She considered going home to change, but there wasn’t time with rush hour traffic, and besides, this was who she was. Take it or leave it. She was already trying to placate her bosses. There was only so much supplication Blair was capable of in a month, let alone a single day. But she was sure to get an earful of disapproval from Neil’s mother. For a woman who sold Tupperware and lived in a double-wide trailer, she was one of the most judgmental women Blair had ever known, and she’d made no secret of the fact she didn’t approve of Blair’s career. Blair would love nothing more than to tell her off, but she didn’t want to make things awkward for Neil. He was caught in the middle enough as it was, what with all the back-and-forth about the wedding arrangements. As an afterthought, she pulled the pins out of her hair and let it tumble down her back. It would definitely be hotter, but she could suffer through some discomfort to appease Debra. Besides, she was already plotting when to execute her headache excuse.

Five minutes after six, she pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and was blasted by a wave of hot, humid air as she opened the car door, adding to her irritation. Neil’s parents had insisted the rehearsal dinner on Friday night take place in the outdoor seating area of a local restaurant. She was going to miss her own wedding due to dehydration from profuse sweating.

Neil and his parents were already seated at a rectangular table when she walked into the room. It was hard not to feel annoyed at the irritated glance Neil gave her as she approached the table.

“There you are. I told you six sharp.”

He was being shorter with her than usual, which only added to her brewing annoyance, but she knew he must have caught an earful from his mother. “I’ve had the day from hell. Then I hit rush hour traffic.”

Neil’s mother pursed her lips in disapproval. “Language.” The woman held a small plastic piggy bank shaped like a cat, with the words “Curse Kitty” handwritten on a piece of copy paper and attached with mailing tape. Coins rattled as she shook the container. “That will be one dollar.”

Blair put a hand on her hip and cocked her head. “What the hell is that?”

Debra’s eyes narrowed. “Now it’s two.”

Now Neil’s expression morphed into an apologetic cringe. His eyes pleaded with her to not flip out. “Mom knows your tendency to swear, and she’s bound and determined to make the wedding as stress-free as possible, so she’s created a swear jar. She plans to carry it around all weekend.”

Blair wanted to point out that it was her wedding and curse words relieved her stress, but she decided to focus instead on the one point she had a chance of winning. “I only cursed once. My first usage of the word hell was in relation to the location.”

Debra shook the jar, making the coins clink. “Now it’s three.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What am I supposed to call the place where Satan and all his minions reside?” Blair turned to Neil’s stoically quiet father. He was studying his menu with an intensity that suggested he’d be given a quiz later.

Debra cringed. “I wish you wouldn’t use his name, dear.”

“Satan?” Blair asked in disbelief. “Is he like Lord Voldemort? Should we only refer to him as ‘you know who’?”

Debra pursed her lips, deep in thought. “I don’t know who this Lord Voldemort is, but that’s a great idea.”

Blair started to tell her that she was being ridiculous, but it was a pointless endeavor. Debra Fredrick was too simple-minded and stubborn for a fair argument. “Never mind.” She dug out her wallet and pulled out three ones and stuffed them into the jar.

“Is this some new wedding shower game?” a male voice asked from behind her. “Or have you resorted to panhandling, Aunt Debra? I saw a great corner in downtown Kansas City if you’re interested. The homeless guy who sleeps there looked like he’d share his spot and his bottle of booze.”

Neil’s mother gasped and clutched her chest again, looking like she was about to have a heart attack, while Neil’s father tried to hide his laughter. It was about the liveliest she’d ever seen him, but she couldn’t focus on his transformation because she recognized that voice.

Blair spun around in horror. No. It couldn’t be . . .

But it was. Standing in front of her was Garrett Lowry.

How was the only word that found its way into her brain. Too dumbfounded to say anything, she simply gaped at him.

The only thing that made her feel better was that the look on her ex-boyfriend’s face undoubtedly matched her own.

“I’m glad you regret making such a crass joke,” Debra finally said, mistaking his dismay.

“So you really showed up.” Neil turned in his seat and glared at Garrett. “That took balls.”

“Neil!” Debra said. “A dollar!”

Neil shook his head as he dug a bill out of his wallet.

Garrett Lowry was Neil’s cousin? How had this never come up? Neil had told her about his nemesis, the cousin who’d made his every summer a living hell, but he’d never once referred to him by name. He was always asshole or Nana’s favorite. It had infuriated Neil when his nana insisted they invite him to the wedding. Admittedly, Blair hadn’t looked at Neil’s family’s guest list. She’d handed it over to her wedding planner, who had addressed all the invitations before running off to South America with one of her client’s grooms.

Garrett recovered enough to say, “Great to see you too, Neil. And I’m here on Nana Ruby’s orders. We both know that to defy Nana is to skirt one’s own death.” His gaze turned to Blair, and his eyes softened. “Trust me. This is the last place on earth I want to be right now.”

The pain behind his words caught her by surprise.

“Well . . .” Neil muttered.

Garrett tore his gaze away from Blair and turned his focus to Neil. “So you’re marrying Blair . . . Hansen.”

There was no mistaking the fact that he didn’t sound happy about it. She wasn’t sure what to make of that, or of her own elation over the possibility that he might still care for her.

She couldn’t trust Garrett Lowry, and she could deal with that. What she couldn’t handle was that she apparently couldn’t trust herself around him. Garrett was bad news, and she needed to steer clear of the man, or she was likely to be susceptible to falling for his charms. She’d fallen for him once; she couldn’t afford to do it again. She’d never survive it. But as she stared at him now, an undeniable feeling of longing rose up within her, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength to stay away from him.

She needed a drink. And quick.

But Neil must have picked up on something too, because Garrett had Neil’s attention now. Neil stood and wrapped an arm possessively around her waist. “You know Blair?”

One of the great things about Neil was that he didn’t pry about her past. Early on, they’d agreed never to talk much about exes, and they’d both stuck to that rule, only exchanging basic information. She planned to keep it that way. “Mr. Lowry is the opposing counsel on the case I had depositions for today.”

“So you’re adversaries?” Neil asked, looking down at her for confirmation. Then he placed a quick kiss on her mouth. “That’s my girl.”

“I wouldn’t say adversaries,” Garrett said smoothly, his voice oozing with charm. “More like we have opposing views.”

“Semantics.” Neil waved his hand. “And I thought the only reason you were here was because Nana Ruby forced you to come.”

Garrett’s back stiffened. “When my firm found out I was going to be in town anyway, they reassigned the case to me.” He gave Blair an appreciative smile. “Your fiancée made mincemeat out of my associate during their last encounter. He didn’t fight me for it.”

Neil didn’t look impressed, and Debra released a disapproving moan. “Blair, that’s so unladylike.”

Debra’s eighteenth century attitude was almost enough to make Blair lose it, particularly on top of the rest of the sexist nonsense that had been thrown at her all day. Debra Fredrick’s insistence that Blair quit her job and devote herself to being a wife and mother was easier to dismiss when she was three hours south in McDonald County, Missouri. At least Neil firmly supported her career and didn’t want her to quit. But Blair swallowed her pride. She couldn’t afford any discord at the wedding. She needed to keep everyone happy to impress the partners and their spouses.

Garrett waved toward the table. “Please, sit down. I don’t want to keep you from eating.”

Neil pulled out a chair for her, surprising her with his uncharacteristic attentiveness . . . until she noticed Garrett watching them from the other side of the table, where he’d taken a seat next to Debra. Huh. There was some kind of competition between the men.

Neil’s mother shifted in her seat and picked up the menu. “I think I’m going to order the pulled pork.” She looked up at Blair. “What about you, dear?”

“Uh . . .” Blair’s gaze was on Garrett, who was watching her just as intently as she was watching him.

“Why do I think there’s something else going on here?” Neil asked, glancing back and forth between them.

What sucky timing for Neil to suddenly become observant.

“I think we’re just surprised to see each other in a social setting,” Garrett said, something shifting in his eyes before he picked up his menu. “Especially after our last deposition.”

“No shop talk,” Debra muttered dismissively.

Garrett made a mocking face, and Blair had to stifle a laugh. It was no surprise that Garrett didn’t like his aunt. What was surprising was that he and Neil were cousins. Now that she’d had some time to absorb the initial shock, it made sense to her that she’d never discovered the connection. While Neil never really mentioned his nemesis cousin by name, Garrett had never mentioned his cousin at all. And she purposefully steered clear of Facebook, having seen more than one attorney ruin themselves with a poorly planned photo op. One of the associates at her firm had been let go after only a few months on the job. The senior partners didn’t have a problem with the associate attorneys posting vacation photos on social media, but they weren’t so understanding of the pictures of Byron’s vacation to Mexico. While his own photos were mundane, run-of-the-mill vacation pics, his friend had posted photos of Byron swinging from a rope in a pair of bikini briefs. He had a bottle of tequila raised to his mouth while bikini-clad women—none of whom were his wife—stuffed money into his briefs. The caption read “Byron plays piñata before some banging of his own later.” Blair deleted her own account within the hour.

Garrett’s gaze shifted to her hand, which was currently clutching the menu. “That’s a very pretty ring,” he said. “Can I get a closer look?”

His request was odd, but she saw no reason to deny him. What she didn’t understand was why everyone else at the table tensed at his words.

She held it out to him, and he curled her fingers over his hand, leaning over for a closer look at the diamonds.

It was hard to ignore the way his touch sent tingles shooting through her body, but she made a valiant effort. “Neil says it’s a family piece.” She hoped no one else noticed how breathy her voice sounded, but the look of satisfaction in Garrett’s eyes and the way his grip tightened told her he hadn’t missed it. It only added to her agony.

Garrett turned her hand so that the diamonds sparkled in the light. “Neil is correct. It belonged to our great-grandmother. However, it wasn’t his ring to give.” His hold on her hand tightened, and something in his eyes flickered before they hardened. He turned to Neil. “It belongs to my mother, which makes it mine.”

“What the hell?” Blair asked in astonishment.

“You son of a bitch!” Neil shouted.

“I knew it! You bastard.” Debra’s chair screeched as she pushed back from the table and turned to look at him.

“About damn time.” Neil’s father’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as he grabbed a beer bottle from a passing waitress and took a long chug.

The waitress stopped and gave him an exasperated glare. “Sir, that’s not yours!”

“It is now.” He took another long sip.

Debra looked torn between addressing her wayward husband or her derelict nephew. Her husband won out. “Gene! What the H-E double hockey sticks are you doing?”

He lifted the bottle. “Seems pretty damn obvious to me.”

She put her hands on her hips. “That’s the devil’s brew.”

“And the devil’s a-brewing, ain’t he?” He took another drink.

Neil’s mouth hung open, and Blair suspected it was because he hadn’t seen his father defy his mother for years, if ever. Garrett started to chuckle. “Uncle Gene, we should hit up a couple of breweries this week before you go home.”

Gene finished off his bottle and grabbed the sleeve of a passing waiter. “I’ll take another one of these.”

“Get me one too,” Garrett said.

The server looked confused. “I’m sorry, but I’m not your waiter.” But then he scanned the chaos at the table and patted Gene’s shoulder. “Not to worry, sir. Coming right up.”

“Gene!” Debra shouted. “Stop this nonsense right now!”

“If Garrett can drink, then so can I.”

Debra must have decided her husband was now the lesser of the evils. She picked up the plastic cat and shook it as she swung her attention to her nephew. “You had this in mind all along! You’re here to cause trouble! First you claim the ring, then you encourage my poor gullible Gene to drink.”

“You can’t blame Uncle Gene’s newfound independence on me, although I would gladly accept some of the credit, and I’m only here because of Nana. Until now, I didn’t care about the ring, but seeing it on Blair’s hand has given me second thoughts.” His gaze found Blair’s. “Now I know what I want, and I intend to fight for it.” There was no mistaking the true meaning behind his statement.

A wave of desire washed through Blair, and she fought it back into submission. There was no doubt Garrett was all fire and passion, but she’d found out firsthand how badly it burned. She’d rather take practical and sensible. Safe and reliable were exactly what she needed. So why was she struggling to convince herself?

Chapter Six

The shock on Blair’s face matched his own surprise at his out-of-nowhere declaration.

Nana Ruby was going to kill him.

He’d had no intention of laying claim to the ring, and in truth, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it. But damned if he was going to stand by and let his punk cousin marry Blair, let alone with that ring.

Now, instead of defusing the situation, he’d ratcheted it up to DEFCON 1. Jesus, he had to get things under control.

“I won’t rip the ring off the bride-to-be’s hand, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” he said, dropping Blair’s hand and trying to control his racing heart. “We’ll wait for Nana to come tomorrow night. She can help make the decision.”

This brought on a new round of shouting and dismay. Whiny Neil tossed out the phrase “you’re her favorite.” While that was probably true, he doubted Nana could help him get the girl, which was his real goal. That one was all on him.

Blair looked on in confusion, making it abundantly clear they’d kept her in the dark about the questionable ownership of her ring. But soon her bewilderment turned to anger as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“It’s time for all of you to pay up,” his aunt said, shaking the plastic cat jar. “Blair, you got off easy this time. You only owe a dollar. Neil, you owe two, and you, Gene Neilson Fredrick, must owe at least five between the drinking and the cursing.”

Uncle Gene and Aunt Debra had a stare-off for several seconds before Gene caved. He must have decided to choose his battles because he dug out his wallet and sheepishly stuck a five-dollar bill into the jar. Neil put in his money, and Garrett handed over a dollar when Debra shoved the jar in Blair’s direction.

His aunt scowled at him. “Surprisingly, you don’t owe anything.”

Garrett tucked his money into the jar and winked at Blair. “Oh, this is for the bride. Call it an early wedding gift. But if this is for cursing, as the label suggests, you owe some money yourself, Aunt Debra.” His eyebrows rose with mock recrimination. “And I do believe I need to have a discussion with my mother about my true parentage. No one ever told me I was a bastard.”

Debra’s face turned red, although Garrett couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger. Probably both.

He’d earned a scowl from Blair for donating the money on her behalf, but now he could tell she was trying to hold back a grin.

“That was an unfortunate loss of self-control.” The woman’s face twisted into disgust as she jerked her wallet out of her purse and pulled out one dollar. She screwed an indignant expression on her face. “The Lowrys seem to bring out the worst in me.”

Blair tipped her head, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Actually, Debra, you owe two dollars. One for informing your nephew of his illegitimacy and the second for spelling out the home of you know who.”

Debra’s eyes widened in shock.

“Blair!” Neil cried out in horror.

Garrett knew the Fredricks liked to tiptoe around his aunt’s self-righteous attitude. He was glad to see Blair hadn’t kowtowed like the rest of them.

“You know who?” Garrett asked in amusement. He couldn’t help but take pleasure in riling up his aunt and irritating his cousin. Especially since Blair seemed to find Debra as obnoxious as he did. “Dare I ask who that is?”

Blair lifted her eyebrows. “Why, the prince of darkness himself.”

“Lord Voldemort?” Garrett teased, shooting his aunt an amused look.

She wasn’t so pleased. “Who is this Lord Voldemort you keep talking about? Do we need to add him to the kitty list?”

Garrett burst out into laughter. He was surprised his aunt didn’t already know about the notorious villain.

“No, Mom,” Neil said. “He’s a character from a children’s book, which explains why Garrett is so enthralled with him.”

Garrett noticed he left Blair off the naughty list, but it didn’t stop him from giving her a look of reproach. She glanced away, trying to hide her grin.

So his Blair was still there, lurking below the prim and proper exterior. Just like he’d found her years ago.

Their original waiter appeared with Gene and Garrett’s beers—apparently the other guy had wisely handed the task off to the poor man who’d been assigned to them. Gene gave the beer a longing look, but one glance from his furious wife was enough for him to push it to the middle of the table.

Garrett had no such qualms. Taking a drag from the bottle, Garrett wondered if he should leave. An already tense dinner would be all the more so after his bombshell and after the way he’d teased his aunt, but one look at Blair helped him decide. He had five days to win her back, and he was going to make every second count. He asked the waiter to bring him another beer.

“Really, Garrett,” Aunt Debra mused, pressing her hand to her chest. “Haven’t you done enough?”

Garrett grinned at the waiter. “Make sure it’s extra cold.”

Neil ordered water, although he gave his father’s drink a longing glance, and his mother ordered iced tea. When the waiter turned to Blair, she looked torn, her previous steely presence returning. She cast a glance at Garrett for several seconds, then looked up at the waiter. “Hard lemonade.”

Garrett nearly laughed at her order. From the look on her face, it had to be killing her to order something fruity. She was more of a beer and hard liquor kind of girl, but she was obviously trying to make peace with his non-worldly aunt, who would likely miss the fact that she was ordering alcohol.

Neil tensed. “Are you sure you don’t want tea? Or water?”

Garrett leaned forward, unable to stop himself. “Let the lady have her lemonade, Neil. I knew you were a stuffed shirt, but I never figured you for a tightwad.” He turned his attention to Blair. “Does he make you buy bargain brand toilet paper too?”

Neil’s face turned red, and Blair glared at him, but he could tell she was fighting a grin.

“Of course Blair can have whatever she wants.”

Garrett’s grin spread as he looked up at the waiter. “Then a hard lemonade for the lady it is.”

“Lemonade does sound good on a hot day like today,” Aunt Debra said, chewing on her lower lip. “Maybe I should change my order.”

Blair’s eyes widened slightly, but not enough that anyone would notice unless they were watching her closely. Like he was now. A blind man could see the two women didn’t get along. This would be one more log tossed onto a fire that Blair now seemed eager to put out. “Maybe I should change—”

“Don’t be silly,” Garrett said. “Neil just gave you his blessing to spend another dollar or two. But Aunt Debra,” he turned to his aunt. “I’m not sure you’d like their lemonade. I hear it’s really bitter.” He shot the waiter a pointed glance, letting him know not to counter him.

The older woman shook her head and pursed her lips. “I’ll get whatever I want, Garrett Michael Lowry.” She turned to the server. “Why are you still standing there? Go get our drinks.” Then she made a shooing motion.

Garrett tried to keep from laughing. “On second thought, I think a glass of hard lemonade is exactly what you need, Aunt Debra.”

Neil shot Blair a look of dismay, then turned his attention to Aunt Debra. “Mother, I think you should get something else.”

She gave him a pointed glare. “Why?”

Neil shook his head. “Never mind.”

While they waited for their drinks, they all sat stewing in uncomfortable silence. Aunt Debra was fuming, and Uncle Gene was sneaking sips of his second bottle of beer behind his menu. Neil was outright surly, his shoulders tense as he tried to decide whom to shoot angry looks at, Garrett or Blair. Even the always-in-control Blair seemed slightly off kilter now that the dust had settled. Garrett didn’t regret throwing down the gauntlet with the ring, but in hindsight, he should have waited until later to do it. He didn’t want to cause Blair any additional stress. Since he was the one who’d stirred up this round of conflict, it was on him to make it more bearable.

The waiter brought their drinks and took their food orders, then hurried away. Not that Garrett could blame him after the way Aunt Debra had quizzed him about the various barbeque sauces, wanting to know which ingredients were in each. Thank God she hadn’t been so inquisitive about her lemonade.

Blair had started to drink in earnest while Debra gave the waiter the third degree, and her hard lemonade was half gone by the time he scurried off. His aunt eyed her with disapproval. “Really, Blair. That’s so unladylike.” But she then took a sip of her own drink.

Neil’s attention was glued to his mother, and Garrett waited for her reaction. Blair bit her lower lip.

“This is delicious.” Aunt Debra took another sip, then glared at Garrett. “Why did you tell me it was bitter? It’s actually very sweet and quite refreshing on a hot day.”

“My mistake,” Garrett murmured, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. “I must have confused this place with another one.”

His aunt took another long drink and turned to his uncle. “We should see about having some of this at the rehearsal dinner barbeque.”

“Rehearsal dinner barbeque?” Garrett asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Blair’s brow lowered. “It’s a western theme.”

Garrett fought to keep from laughing. Blair was hosting a western-themed dinner? “Will there be square dancing?”

Blair’s eyes narrowed. “No.”

His aunt’s mouth pinched with irritation. “As you can see, Blair put her foot down.”

“Come on, Blair,” Garrett teased. “Everyone loves a good do-si-do or an allemande, right?”

Blair’s eyes lit up with challenge. “You know how to square dance, Garrett?”

“Oh, you know me. I like to see the skirts flying.”

Neil pounced on his words. “How would she know that, Garrett?”

Something in his tone caught Garrett off guard. It was almost as if he knew about their past together and was challenging Garrett to admit to it. And he wanted to. But Blair’s eyes were wild with panic, so he vowed to himself that he would keep quiet about it, at least for now. He’d stirred up enough trouble for the moment. “Oh, just something from the deposition, right, Blair?”

She looked torn. It was a lie, and she hated lies, preferring omission as her word-weapon of choice. So she gave him a haughty look and took another drink of her lemonade.

Garrett needed to steer the conversation away from Blair. “Neil, Mom tells me that you’re a doctor here in town.”

Neil studied him for several seconds as if gauging whether he was serious. “I work at St. Luke’s in infectious disease.”

“So do you spend more time in the hospital or in an office?”

Neil’s eyes narrowed. “You just laid claim to my fiancée’s ring and now you want to make polite conversation?”

His cousin only had it half right, but then he’d always been an idiot. Garrett had no idea how the guy had managed to fumble his way through medical school. “I said we’d wait for Nana Ruby to help decide. It’s about time she got involved in this anyway, don’t you think?”

“She says she doesn’t want to get involved,” Uncle Gene said. Everyone looked over at him in surprise. He wasn’t one to give his opinions. Obviously the beer had loosened his tongue.

Aunt Debra frowned. “Yes, Mother says we need to work it out ourselves.”

Garrett loved his mother, but she was one of the most stubborn women he’d ever met. His Aunt Debra was a very close second. Nana Ruby was no fool, so it was understandable why she’d tried to extricate herself from the situation.

“Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on with this ring?” Blair demanded, fire in her eyes.

He’d expected the question minutes ago, but the Curse Kitty and the hard lemonade must have distracted her. That, or she’d wanted to wait for her drink before dealing with the mess.

Neil shot Garrett a glare and gave her a condensed version of the story.

“Why am I just now hearing about the controversy over this damned ring?” she asked, her jaw set.

“It wasn’t something you needed to worry about, dear,” Aunt Debra said, then lifted her jar and shook it. “You owe the jar a dollar.”

Blair shot Neil an exasperated glare, then dug out a dollar before flagging down the waiter so she could order another hard lemonade.

“Give me another one too,” Debra called after him. “It’s really very good.”

Their food arrived, and Debra became more and more uninhibited. Garrett had a hard time hiding his snicker, but Neil looked worried.

Neil got in multiple digs at Garrett over the course of the dinner, but it was easy to ignore him, particularly because Blair was at the table. He was dying to find out more about her life. He thought about waiting, but it would be considered normal for him to ask a new acquaintance questions about her career.

“So, Blair,” Garrett said as she cut her pork with a knife and fork. “When did you start at Sisco, Sisco, and Reece?”

“Blair is a career woman,” Debra said, slurring her words. She leaned her elbow on the table. It slipped on the surface, and she nearly fell face first into her baked beans.

Garrett grabbed her upper arm and helped her upright. “There you go.”

She gave him an exaggerated look of confusion as she patted the top of her head. “I’m feeling a bit dizzy.”

Neil shot daggers at him across the table. “I blame you for this, Garrett.”

Neil’s mother shook her head, almost falling out of her chair. “Garrett’s being a perfect gentleman, Neilson.” Then she added, “For once.”

His cousin looked furious.

“Blair doesn’t like to keep house or cook,” Debra continued. “She hires someone to clean.” His aunt spat out the sentence as though she’d just declared that Blair drowned puppies for sport.

“After watching Blair in action, I’m certain she’s exactly where she needs to be,” Garrett said.

Blair’s eyes widened at the compliment, but Neil’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “And where’s that, Garrett?”

Blair tensed, confusion flickering in her eyes.

“As a practicing attorney, Neil. What else could I be referring to?”

Blair took a deep breath and released it, her resolve returning. “I love what I do and have no intention of giving it up.” She gave Garrett a withering glance. “And while Mr. Lowry is trying to appear gracious, I have no doubt that this is just a tactic to throw me off before our depositions tomorrow.” Her upper lip curled. “But I can assure you it won’t work.”

Is that how she saw this? An elaborate attempt to sabotage her strategy? She should know better than to think he’d employ such tactics. He’d always preferred a fair, equal match. It was the only way he could know he’d won fair and square. But he’d let her down in almost every way possible, so maybe she didn’t believe him capable of anything good.

He suddenly felt like he was fighting a hopeless battle.

Chapter Seven

Garrett backed off the rest of dinner, and Debra got more and more inebriated. When she ordered her third hard lemonade, Garrett pulled the waiter aside and requested that he deliver her a regular lemonade instead. But she noticed the difference with her first sip.

“This tastes different.”

“It’s the water,” Garrett said.

“The water?” She waved her glass and sloshed her drink over the side onto her hand.

“They ran out of hard water. Thus its name. This batch was made with soft water.”

“Oh.”

Blair grinned when she bought it, but Neil didn’t look so amused.

As soon as they were done with dinner, Neil pulled out his phone and sighed. “I have to take this. It’s the hospital.” He got up and walked toward the front door, his phone pressed to his ear, although from Garrett’s angle, his phone had a blank screen—no incoming or missed calls or texts. Not that Garrett would have believed it anyway. The timing was too convenient.

But Garrett decided to take advantage of his absence and turned to Blair. “So how long have you and Neil been together?”

She gave him a frosty gaze. “Two years.”

“How did you meet?”

She studied him closely, as though trying to determine if he had an ulterior motive. “At a First Friday.” When he gave her a blank look, she shifted in her seat and explained. “Every first Friday of the month, a bunch of the art galleries and restaurants downtown are open to the public, and they feature local bands and artists. We met at an art gallery. One of the associate attorneys in my office introduced us. He’s an acquaintance of Neil’s.”

“Was it a whirlwind romance?” he couldn’t resist asking.

Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave him a deathly glare.

“She’s lucky to have him,” Aunt Debra said, thrusting her shoulders back like a linebacker preparing to tackle. Unfortunately, her normal personality seemed to be returning along with her faculties.

Garrett lifted his second beer and winked. “Seems like it’s the other way around to me.”

Blair’s shoulders relaxed, and he saw a grin tug at the corners of her mouth.

“How long do you think you’ll continue working, dear?” his aunt asked her, lifting her glass to her mouth and giving her a sly grin. “You’ll want to start having children soon, at your age. The clock is ticking.”

Blair tensed again, and Garrett could see she was biting her tongue. She forced a smile. “I’m not going to quit my job. I love what I do. I’m not sure I even want to have children.”

Aunt Debra choked on the sip of lemonade she’d just taken, her eyes widening in horror. “What?” She started coughing, and she scooted her chair back, the wood screeching on the tiles. She dropped her glass, and it shattered on the hard floor, splattering lemonade on a woman walking behind her.

The young woman shrieked and jumped backward, landing in the lap of a man who was dining with a group of friends at a nearby table. From their Royals baseball shirts, Garrett figured they were grabbing dinner before the game. The man wrapped an arm around her back to steady her, a surprised grin lighting up his face.

Uncle Gene jumped out of his seat, sending the chair flying to the floor. There was panic in his eyes as he shouted, “Does anyone know the Heil Hitler?”

Blair grabbed Gene’s leftover beer and took a long drag.

The older woman was still hacking, but drool was now spilling out of her mouth and down her chin. From the way she was still breathing and as her face was pink instead of blue, it was clear the woman wasn’t really choking.

Garrett shook his head as he picked up a napkin and handed it to his aunt, but she batted it away. “It’s the Heimlich, Uncle Gene, and she doesn’t need it. She’s choking on her own self-righteousness.”

Neil reentered the restaurant as the manager and waiter rushed over to check on Aunt Debra.

“What in the hell happened?” Neil demanded.

Aunt Debra reached over and picked up the cat jar, shaking it at her son. “Dollar!” she choked out.

The waiter, probably worried about his tip, jerked Debra out of her chair and positioned her back against his chest, but he struggled to wrap his arms all the way around her to form the fist he’d need to give her the Heimlich. Out of apparent desperation, he pressed his palms against her instead and tugged her toward him, his hands cupping each of her breasts.

Garrett tried to keep from laughing as he shot a grin at Blair. “I think the waiter owes the kitty a few dollars for that move.”

Aunt Debra screamed and beat at the poor waiter’s hands. “I could sue you for that!”

The next couple of minutes were pure chaos as the manager tried to placate Aunt Debra—a task no human was capable of achieving. Neil stood in the mix with his parents and the staff, trying to get the full story of what had happened.

Blair and Garrett remained at the table, Blair sneaking glances at him, then looking away.

“I think Aunt Debra may have unintentionally forged a love connection.” He motioned to the woman who had landed in the man’s lap. She had moved to a chair, but they were still chatting.

Blair scoffed. “Like you believe in true love.”

He gave her a half-shrug. “Maybe I do.”

She shook her head. “You never used to.”

“People change.”

She stared at him for several long seconds, as though measuring the man she saw today against the man she used to know. A sardonic grin lifted her mouth. “No. Not really.”

Neil returned to the table but didn’t sit down. “I’ve gotten the situation under control, no thanks to you.” He shot Garrett a glare. “I’ve been called in to the hospital, and I’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

Blair looked up at him with a mixture of irritation and envy.

“We haven’t finished our discussion about babies yet,” his mother said as the manager walked back to the kitchen.

Blair’s jaw tightened, and she shot Neil an angry glare.

“Mom,” Neil said, grabbing the back of his chair and waiting until he had his mother’s attention. “I can tell from the look on Blair’s face that you’ve given her the grandkids speech again. I told you we’ll let you know when we decide to start a family. Blair’s career is on the rise. She doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with a pregnancy or a newborn right now.”

Garrett watched his cousin, stunned. This was the first time all evening he’d defended his fiancée to his mother.

Neil leaned over and planted a chaste kiss on her mouth. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you were spending the night.”

“I traded call.” He shrugged. “I’m juggling my schedule to accommodate my time off for the honeymoon.”

The look she gave him suggested she didn’t trust his answer, so Garrett was surprised when she relented. “Okay.”

Neil hurried out the door, and Aunt Debra squirmed in place. “After all the commotion, Gene and I should get settled in our hotel room.”

Garrett heard a hint of bitterness, and he wondered if she was miffed that she hadn’t been invited to stay at Blair’s or Neil’s.

Relief flickered in Blair’s eyes, but she flashed his aunt a polite smile. “That’s probably a good idea. We have a busy week ahead of us.”

Aunt Debra stood. “Come on, Gene.”

He looked confused. “But the waiter hasn’t brought the bill yet.”

His aunt smiled. “Blair’s a career woman, so I’m sure she’ll take care of it. Won’t you, dear?”

Her jaw tightened. “Of course.”

Aunt Debra and Uncle Gene didn’t waste any time before heading for the door. Blair turned her gaze on him, and he was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that this was exactly what he’d wanted all day. Time alone with her.

“You can go now.” Apparently she had other ideas.

“I’ll stay and help cover the tab. It’s the least I can do after stirring up trouble.”

“Then you must pay for meals right and left,” she said dryly. “Stirring up trouble seems to be something you excel at.”

He laughed, but he was nervous. “Which means I’m used to it, so you might as well let me. We could have another drink before we go.”

She studied him for a moment, and he was struck by her beauty for about the hundredth time today. The bitter thought crossed his mind again: had he not been such a fool five years ago, perhaps she would still be his.

Something flickered in her eyes. “Are you sure you don’t mind helping me cover the bill?”

Hopeful, he shook his head. “Not a problem.”

A wide grin spread across her face as she stood. “Thanks.” Then she headed for the door.

Dammit. “Blair!” He jumped up and started after her, but the waiter ran over to block his path.

“Sir! You have to pay for the meal.”

Garrett pulled out his wallet. “How much is it?”

The waiter looked frustrated. “I don’t know. I still have to print off the bill.”

“Then do it. Hurry.” Blair was already out the door, and if he didn’t get out of here soon, she’d be gone.

The waiter didn’t seem to grasp his urgency and checked on another table before getting his bill. Since Garrett only had a twenty-dollar bill in his wallet, he was forced to wait.

Several minutes later, he signed the receipt and ran out the door, sure he’d missed her but desperate to try anyway.

The universe was obviously still rooting for him, because he found her sitting in a sedan, her hands covering her face. He walked over to the driver’s door and knocked on the window.

She jumped and lowered her hands. He was relieved to see she wasn’t crying, but her eyes were alight with a savage fury he recognized all too well. “Go away!” she shouted, but it was muffled by the glass.

“Open the door, Blair.”

“Go away!”

He leaned his backside on the car next to hers and crossed his arms.

She rested her hands on the steering wheel and stared out the windshield for several seconds before opening the door. “My car won’t start. I need you to figure out what’s wrong with it.”

He laughed, trying to hide his relief that she was actually talking to him. “Have we met? You know I don’t do anything mechanical.”

She pressed a button, then got out and walked to the front of her car and lifted the hood.

He dropped his arms and moved next to her. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure out why it won’t start.”

“When did you become mechanical?” he teased.

She leaned down to look at something around the battery, then stood up. “I’m not. But I figured it couldn’t hurt to check.” She gave him a withering stare. “I wouldn’t put it past you to do something to it. You seem intent on talking to me. And yes, my assistant told me that you were trying to set up a lunch with me when you were at her desk.”

Garrett was relieved to know that little mix-up had been handled, but she obviously wasn’t any closer to agreeing to have a sit-down talk with him. Still, it was one less strike against him. He walked over and peered down at the engine. “Since we’ve already agreed that I’m physically—if not mentally—incapable of such an act of vandalism, let’s go with general car trouble as the reason your engine won’t start.” He had to admit that it would have been a great idea if, one, he knew how to do such a thing, two, if he’d known she would be here tonight, and three, if he’d known what make and model of car she drove.

She put her hands on her hips. “Did you arrange to be a groomsman in our wedding?”

“God, no. It’s like my worst nightmare come true.”

Her eyebrows rose, and her mouth pursed. “Are you saying my wedding is a nightmare?”

He shook his head. “Come on, Blair. Tell me about the last wedding you were in. Did you really want to be in it? Besides, why would I want to be in your wedding?” He stopped himself from adding “if I wasn’t the groom.”

She watched him for a moment, as though scanning him with a bullshit meter. She’d always been good at reading him. He must have passed because her hands dropped from her hips.

His shoulders relaxed. “I honestly had no clue you were Neil’s fiancée.”

“And what about the Norfolk case? Did you know I was on it?”

He held out a hand toward her. “No, I swear. They told me the attorney was B.A. Hansen. You went by Myers in law school.”

“So you would have turned both things down if you’d known?”

Would he? He wasn’t so sure. Especially since he’d given so much thought to their relationship over the last year. He would have sought her out if he’d thought there had been any chance she would listen, but now she was forced to endure him, which meant he actually had a shot. There was no denying that fate kept throwing her into his path. He could lie to her, but he’d never done that before. After all the stunts her father had pulled, she couldn’t abide liars or cheaters. He had no plans to be either to her. “No.”

She seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment, and then, without a word, she walked back to her car door and grabbed her phone out of her purse.

He wanted to stop her or ask who she was calling, but it occurred to him that he was turning into a stalker. So instead he returned to his post next to the car, crossing his arms and waiting for her to finish calling roadside assistance or whatever she was doing. Less than a minute later, she was cursing into the receiver. While Aunt Debra might not appreciate that character trait, Garrett had always thought it was sexy as hell.

“Two hours? That’s ridiculous,” she said in a frosty tone. “I don’t have time to wait two hours.”

“Blair,” he said, still resting against the car. “I’ll take you home.”

She gave him a dirty look and turned her back to him. “If you send someone sooner, I’ll pay the driver double.” She listened for several seconds. “What good is having a roadside service if you don’t show up in a timely manner?” But she hung up before the person on the line had time to answer.

“Blair, stop being so stubborn,” Garrett said. “Let me take you home.”

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a frosty glare. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He unfolded his arms. “What do you think I’m going to do? We spent the night together last night, and we didn’t do a thing.”

She sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. “We really didn’t?”

A grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “You don’t remember anything from last night, do you?”

She held his gaze, but her confidence faded. “Bits and pieces.”

“I was a perfect gentleman. I made sure you got to your room without being accosted.”

Relief washed over her face. Had she really thought him capable of taking advantage of her? She quickly regained her composure, then gave him a sarcastic leer. “And of course you stayed.”

“I offered to go spend the night in the airport, but you insisted I stay.”

Realization replaced the relief on her face. “It was your room, wasn’t it?”

His voice lowered. “It doesn’t matter, Blazer. We slept on the same bed, and nothing happened, which proves I’m trustworthy. Let me take you home.”

She flinched at the use of his old nickname for her, and her eyes filled with fire at the word trustworthy, but then some of the fight bled out of her. Even back in law school, she’d rarely showed extreme emotion. She had the ability to make most people wither with a mere glance, yet he knew there was more to her. The icy inaccessibility was her wall to keep the world from hurting her any more than it already had. And it was very effective. To his shame, he was sure he’d helped build that wall even higher. The key to Blair’s soul was in her eyes. To the casual observer, they were icy blue and full of intimidation, but if you held her gaze long enough, they turned a sky blue that pulled you in deeper. Most people were too intimidated to hold her gaze for long enough to see it. Had Neil?

She released a sigh. “Okay.”

He tried not to show his surprise, but her laughter told him he’d failed.

“You didn’t expect me to agree?”

He grinned and lifted his shoulders into a sheepish shrug. “I admit that I expected more of a fight.”

“Maybe I choose my battles now.” She pulled her purse out of her car and locked it. “Let’s go.”

He led her to his rental car across the parking lot and opened the passenger door for her.

She shot him a sarcastic glance. “No need to waste your gentlemanly manners on me, Lowry. This car ride won’t end with you in my bed.”

He grinned. “I have no such delusions. I’m merely being a Good Samaritan.”

“Trying to earn karma for all the wrongs you’ve committed?”

And if that wasn’t a well-deserved stab in an old wound. “I think it’s going to take more than a car ride to right all of my wrongs.” Rather than give her a chance to respond, he walked around to the driver’s side and slid behind the wheel, then started the car. “Okay. Where to?”

“Get on the highway and head east, and I’ll give you directions.”

This was his big chance to make some inroads, but he had no clue where to start. He was like a teenager on a first date. His sweaty palms slipped on the steering wheel, and his tongue was heavy in his mouth. He found it ironic that he was known for being able to schmooze anyone, yet now, when the gift of the gab actually mattered, he was tongue-tied. If Blair knew the truth, she’d love every minute of it. Finally, Blair caved to the silence.

“I can’t believe you’re Neil’s evil cousin.”

He laughed. “He calls me evil, huh?”

She put her hand on the armrest. “Not in so many words, but I can read between the lines.”

“We’re cousins all right. We used to spend two weeks together every summer at Nana’s farm. Neil hated it.”

“I can imagine. And you loved it.”

He glanced at her. “What makes you say that?”

“You like the outdoors.” She paused. “Or at least you used to.”

Her last statement gave him hope after the comment she’d made in the restaurant about people never changing. “Still do. I just don’t get out very much anymore. You know how it is to be an associate attorney, always trying to prove your worth, hoping to make partner. You spend most of your time enclosed in glass and metal.”

Her easygoing attitude dissolved. “Yeah.”

So his earlier assessment had been spot on. Something else was going on with her, something to do with her firm. “How long have you been at Sisco, Sisco, and Reece? You never answered me before.”

“Since law school. I did a summer internship there and was offered a position.” She tensed. “What about you? Divorce law. I never would have expected it.”

He shrugged. “I kind of fell into it. I started out practicing entertainment law, then switched soon after moving out to L.A. With all the high-profile people, not to mention all the alcohol and quickie weddings, there can be some pretty profitable cases.”

“And plenty of skinny actresses,” Blair said, disgust in her voice.

There was no use denying it. It was one of the reasons he’d moved to the West Coast. But now he was stuck with an awkward silence and no clue how to fill it without saying something else to piss her off. Then an idea hit him. The reason he was here.

“Have you met Nana Ruby yet?” he asked.

“No.” Her tone let him know she had no desire to meet her. “I hear she’s a tyrant. Debra’s bad enough.”

“Aunt Debra’s something all right, but I think you’ll like Nana Ruby.”

“I doubt it. She forced you into the wedding party, didn’t she? She sounds like a bully.”

“Some people might accuse you of the same thing.”

Her brow lowered. “I’ll never know why men are threatened by powerful women.”

“Not just men,” Garrett said. “And I know she sounds like a bully, but she usually has a reason for the things she does.”

“And what’s her reason for doing this?”

“My mother and Aunt Debra have fought over the ring on your hand off and on for over two decades. It used to belong to their grandmother, who left it to her granddaughter. Only no one can definitively prove which granddaughter. Aunt Debra claimed ownership because she’s had it in her possession most of that time, but my mother threw an epic fit when she found out Neil gave it to you. So Nana Ruby insisted I come and . . .” She was never going to believe him after he’d laid claim to the ring so publicly. But he’d promised himself to be truthful with her.

“And stir up trouble? So your grandmother’s an instigator?”

“Believe it or not, she sent me here to keep the peace.”

“By announcing that the ring is yours?” she asked in disbelief as she glanced down at the ring on her hand.

“I don’t want the ring, Blair,” he said quietly.

“Then why the hell did you say that you did? Especially if your grandmother wanted you to smooth things over.”

He turned and looked at her. This was what he’d been waiting for—this was the time for him to amp up his campaign. The words I want you were on the tip of his tongue, but in this moment of truth, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if she was really happy with Neil? As hard as it was to accept, he didn’t want to be the one to screw that up for her. He gave her a lazy grin. “You’d never believe me if I told you.”

“Still the same,” she said, shaking her head in disgust. “Still the player.”

Was he? There was no denying that he’d dated more women than he could count, probably a dozen in the past year alone, but that didn’t mean it was what he wanted.

She gave him directions the rest of the way to her condo in Lee’s Summit, a suburb on the Missouri side of the city.

“I thought you were a city girl,” he teased as he pulled into the parking lot in front of her building. The brick cookie-cutter condos didn’t look like her at all. Back in law school, Blair had always insisted that she’d live in the heart of the city after graduation. In fact, she would have probably run off to New York City if not for her mother. She didn’t belong in this place.

“It’s a good investment.”

“I feel like you’d be happier down by the plaza,” he said as he parked the car.

She released a sigh. “I was renting there, but Neil heard about this place. It was a good deal, so I bought it and moved in six months ago.”

“Back when we were together, this wasn’t what you wanted.”

She looked into his eyes. “We don’t always get what we want, now do we?”

An ache squeezed his heart, and without realizing what he was doing, he leaned closer to her. “Sometimes we get a second chance.”

He expected her to contradict him or back away, but she did neither. Instead her gaze moved to his mouth.

“You said something to me last night that caught me by surprise.”

“Oh?” Her body was tense, and she seemed to have a hard time concentrating. “I was drunk, so I can’t be held accountable for anything I said.”

Her words were breathless, and a fire burned in his blood. All he could think about was kissing her and having her in his arms again, but this time not so platonically. He rested his hand on her hand, thankful when she didn’t jerk away. In fact, she leaned closer. “You said you missed me.”

Her eyes flew open, and the panic he saw there told him she’d meant what she’d said. “Dream on, Garrett.”

“Are you happy, Blair?” he whispered. “The woman I knew before wouldn’t be happy with this.”

She sucked in a breath as he leaned closer still, their faces only a couple of inches apart. “It’s called compromise.”

“The Blair Myers I knew wasn’t capable of compromise.”

“I’m told it’s necessary for keeping long-term relationships.” She licked her lower lip, and he was in agony.

She reached for the door handle. “I have to go.” But she didn’t open the door, and she didn’t look away.

“Blair.” Her sky blue eyes held his, and his mind raced for the right words. “For what it’s worth, I want you to be happy. Are you happy?”

Her body stiffened. “Five years too late, Garrett.” Then she opened the car door, grabbed her purse, and walked into the building.

Chapter Eight

Blair let herself into her condo and barely had the door shut behind her before she began to hyperventilate. She tossed her purse down in a panic as she tried to catch her breath. Being so close to Garrett Lowry unnerved her more than she cared to admit. She’d almost kissed him. Everything within her had demanded that she kiss him. If she had waited a moment longer before leaving, she would have succumbed . . . and she suspected it wouldn’t have ended with a single kiss. Now her traitorous body was complaining.

Garrett was a bitter reminder of everything she was giving up to marry stable, reliable Neil.

Too many things were bombarding her at once. Her possible dismissal from the firm. Questioning her relationship with Neil. Her feelings for Garrett.

It had been so much easier to dismiss her feelings for him as sentimentality for the past yesterday morning, but three random encounters in less than twenty-four hours had made her cold feet turn frigid. What were the odds of three coincidental meetings with the man who still stole her breath? And the odds of him turning out to be Neil’s cousin . . . How could such a thing happen?

Oh. God. No. A sick feeling spread from her stomach to the rest of her body—it felt a lot like certainty.

She picked up her purse and dug through it, then dumped the contents on her kitchen table when she couldn’t find her phone fast enough. Libby answered on the second ring, sounding breathless. “Hey, Blair.”

“What are you doing?” Blair asked. “Are you running? In this heat?”

“No, Noah and I are walking Tortoise around the pond at the dog park.”

Blair shuddered, wondering where to start. “You’re walking a turtle?”

Libby laughed. “No. Tortoise, my new lab rescue. I told you about him last week, but you were so preoccupied with the wedding you probably forgot. He’s been cooped up all day, so Noah and I brought him to the dog park.”

“Are you sure you’re responsible enough to care for another living animal? You kill plants.”

Libby laughed. “Shows what you know. My tomato plants are thriving.”

“Wow. You finally kept something alive longer than you usually keep your boyfriends. Hell, you might as well have a kid while you’re at it.”

Libby’s light tone turned serious. “What’s going on, Blair?”

“Why do you think something’s going on?”

“Because you’re talking nonsense.”

“Why are you at the dog park with Noah? That’s the real question here. Shouldn’t Mitch be with you instead?”

“He’s at football practice,” Libby replied. “You’d be amazed by the hours a high school football coach works.”

Blair wanted to ask if Mitch knew she was with Noah, then decided it was Libby’s business. She didn’t need to act the part of the jealous boyfriend for him. Besides, she had something more pressing to address. “Tell me again about this supposed wedding curse.”

“Oh, my God!” Libby squealed. “She was right, wasn’t she? Your wedding is cursed! I knew it!”

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it. Libby, I need this wedding to be perfect. My job depends on it.”

“Whoa. Start over and tell me why you think your wedding is cursed.”

“Garrett’s here. It turns out that he’s Neil’s cousin, and their grandmother is making him be a groomsman.”

“Wait. Garrett? You mean your law school boyfriend?”

“Yes, him. And he’s messing up everything.”

“Wow. What are the chances of that happening?”

“And get this: he just happens to be the opposing counsel in the case I’m deposing this week. That’s not even the worst part. If my wedding isn’t perfect on Saturday, there’s a good chance I’m going to lose my job.”

“What?”

Blair explained the situation, then waited through several seconds of dead air as her friend mulled it all over.

“Blair, that’s totally illegal. You would think attorneys would know better.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not supposed to know anything about it, and a couple of the senior partners are old school. Think Mad-Men-type sexist. But I can’t do anything about the illegality of it. Ben told me in confidence and would lose his job if it ever got out. I can’t throw him under the bus.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Get married on Saturday. And that’s not the point, anyway. You need to break this curse.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say those words. What did you say earlier? That the curse was nonsense?”

“It is! I’m far too logical to believe in that sort of thing, but I’m not taking any chances. Just in case it might be real, I need you to get rid of it.”

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“Blair, the fortune teller at the Santa-Cal-Gon Days festival created the curse. She’s the only one who can break it.”

“Then go hunt her down, Libby.”

Libby laughed. “The first part of the curse says all three of our weddings would be disasters. You know what the second part says, right?”

She did—it was that she’d marry someone else—but there was no way that was happening.

“So Garrett . . . ?”

“Not happening, Libby.” Now if only her body would get on board with her mind. Just the thought of how close she came to kissing him made her hot. She told herself it was from embarrassment, not because she was turned on, but the reaction was so strong she had to grip the neck of her shirt and begin fanning herself.

Of course, it wasn’t easy to get anything by Libby, who knew her better than most people. “Things would probably go much easier if you would just open yourself to the possibility. At some point you have to stop relying on logic to get you through life and live with your heart. You’ll be a whole lot happier if you do.”

“See you at the shower tomorrow night, Libby.” Then Blair hung up before her friend could say another word. The little part of her that had jumped in excitement at Libby’s words scared her. It needed to be reined in. Stat.

Blair flopped down in a stiff chair in her living room, then scooted around trying to get comfortable. Why didn’t she have any overstuffed chairs to sink into? Maybe because she never lay around, relaxing. She heaved out of the chair, wondering what was wrong with her all of a sudden. Why was she so unsettled lately? She could blame part of it on Garrett, but she’d been questioning this marriage before he walked into the bar last night. She reminded herself that this was normal. Sane, reasonable people examined life decisions before jumping into them. That was what this was. She was just being cautious.

But she had to admit even to herself that Neil’s mother was almost enough to make her take off running. The woman seemed to get worse every time she met her. The only reason Blair had lasted past their first meeting was Neil’s insistence that he was nothing like his parents and found his mother’s small-minded attitude embarrassing. Thankfully, she’d only needed to deal with her future in-laws on a small scattering of occasions in the two years she and Neil had been together. As long as she could keep future contact to a minimum, she could handle it. All the more reason to seriously consider not having kids.

Blair grabbed her laptop and set it on her dining room table that was covered with papers and files. This was the real reason she didn’t sit around in overstuffed chairs. There was always too much work to do. While she might not be working at Sisco, Sisco and Reece after this week, Rowena Norfolk was counting on her to prove her soon-to-be ex was a lying, thieving, cheating bastard.

She pulled out files for the two depositions scheduled for the next day. They were deposing another mistress in the morning—a more important witness than the first, which meant Blair had to be prepared. Rowena was certain her husband had promised to divorce her and marry the mistress . . . and then reneged on that promise to be with mistress number three. Apparently, Mr. Norfolk had been a busy man. Blair was fairly certain mistress number two, Amanda Beasley, was privy to Brian Norfolk’s master plan to bilk his wife out of a shitload of money. She was certain he had more money than he’d disclosed in discovery, and Blair was hoping Ms. Beasley would have some knowledge of where all that loot was hidden. It helped that Amanda Beasley was just one more scorned lover. Hopefully, she’d walk in seeking revenge.

But the pièce-de-resistance was Brian Norfolk’s own deposition. Blair was hoping he’d take his oath to tell the truth to heart. But scum like him rarely did. She wasn’t worried. She’d get him in the end. She always did. He’d thought it was so smart of him to move away to California before filing for divorce, but his fancy San Diego law firm wouldn’t save him from her.

It helped knowing that Garrett was his counsel. She had to admit that she’d loved serving him his ass earlier today. But he’d fared a hell of a lot better than his colleague. In fact, he’d fared a lot better than most attorneys she’d gone up against. If he was telling the truth and the case had only been transferred to him the previous day, she had to grudgingly admit she was impressed . . . and remind herself that he’d probably prepare more for the coming depositions, especially now that he knew she was opposing counsel.

She had no reason to doubt his truthfulness. He may have broken up with her, then played the field multiple times over, but he’d never lied. If anything, she had to applaud the fact that he’d owned what—and whom—he’d done. Which made her feelings for him even more pathetic, especially the way her heart had taken off like an Olympic sprinter when he gave her that look in the car ride home—that familiar look that said he was hungry and she was a filet mignon dinner.

Her body betrayed her mind when she was with him, and she found herself longing for more than the vanilla, missionary-style sex she and Neil had every Saturday night. But chemistry had never been an issue with Garrett, so it should come as no surprise she still felt this way. It was physiological. Which was a good thing. God help her if her heart got involved. She wasn’t sure she could survive him hurting her a second time.

Still, she couldn’t let him see she was affected by him, or he’d take full advantage of her weakness, both in the conference room and out. Yet she knew it was too late for that. She’d sat in his car, practically waiting for a goodnight kiss like a teenager coming home from a first date. Garrett wasn’t stupid, and he’d always been able to read her like a book. Based on his questions and observations tonight, it was pretty obvious he still could.

But something bothered her . . . she still couldn’t figure out why he’d been so adamant about taking her to lunch. And while it was obvious he’d like another roll in her sheets, he hadn’t made a move on her. Far from it—he’d claimed he just wanted her to be happy. Had he meant it? It seemed hard to believe after his attempt to claim the ring.

She stared down at the objection of contention—the gold band with a round center diamond and several smaller diamonds clustered on each side. She felt no emotional attachment to the ring. Now she wondered if that was a bad sign. Megan loved the family heirloom ring on her left hand only slightly less than she loved her new husband. But Blair reminded herself that she wasn’t like her closest friends. The two of them shared a romantic streak that she’d never possessed. The only person who had ever understood that about her was Garrett. Even Neil had found her lack of sentimentality strange in the beginning.

Maybe she was the type of woman who shouldn’t get married at all. While she and Neil were compatible, what if it wasn’t enough? She had no desire to be like the women who walked into her office with broken lives and shattered hearts. But she’d never be like those women even if she and Neil ultimately divorced. Because she would have to give Neil her heart to let him destroy it . . . and she hadn’t. She wouldn’t. She’d done that once. Never again.

There was no denying she’d become jaded over the years. Megan attributed her harshness to her chosen field, but that was only partially true. Her breakup with Garrett had left deep scars, and now she wasn’t sure she was capable of loving anyone the way a wife was supposed to love her husband. She couldn’t help feeling guilty and had actually confessed her thoughts to Neil after Megan’s wedding. Logical Neil had assured her that their relationship was perfect . . . for them.

“That’s why we work, Blair,” he had said. “Neither of us expects undying love and adoration from the other. We’re content with what we have.”

She’d agreed at the time, so why was she so uncertain now?

But it was all a moot point anyway. Her entire career hinged on her wedding, so even if she wanted to back out, she was stuck—at least if she wanted to stay at her firm. Idealistic Blair wanted to quit. How could she work for a chauvinistic firm, even if they were closet chauvinists? But pragmatic Blair said to stay the course. She was getting married on Saturday, despite her frigid feet. She’d go through with the wedding, then take it from there.

But the question remained: why was she still hung up on Garrett Lowry? Her reaction to him last night and today shook her to her core. The fact that she had such passionate feelings for a womanizer was sickening. No matter what, there had always been one person she could count on: herself. But now—when she needed to count on herself more than ever—she wasn’t sure she could . . . at least not around him. And that shook the very bedrock of her soul.

There was only one solution: she needed to stay as far away from the man as possible, which meant no contact outside the conference room.

That wouldn’t be hard to achieve on her end, but would he accept her avoidance? They had no unfinished business from the past. Their break had been clean. Yet he’d been pretty intent on getting some one-on-one time with her.

Then it hit her. Maybe Garrett was only showing interest in her because Neil was her fiancé. The animosity between the two cousins and Garrett’s sudden interest in her ring made it abundantly clear that the two men were competitive.

Damn Nana Ruby for throwing her life into chaos. She might not have ever met the woman, but she wanted to snatch her bald the moment she did.

The next morning Blair felt surprisingly energized when she walked into the office. Five hours of sleep had given her a much better outlook. She’d had extra time to prepare for the depositions while the car service took her to work. She and Melissa had the wedding under control. She and Neil had a relationship that ideally suited them and their career goals. The partners would be wowed by her wedding, and she’d be offered a partnership. And Garrett . . . if he wanted the stupid ring so bad, he could have it. She chose to ignore the fact that the ring wasn’t his real goal, as she still couldn’t possibly fathom what he wanted—beyond annoying Neil, of course. And as for her feelings for him . . . they were a moot point. He’d made his decision five years ago, and if he was interested again, it wouldn’t be for anything permanent. She had neither the time nor the inclination for the type of relationship a man like Garrett Lowry had to offer. Sure, he still made her pulse race, but she’d get over it. She was a grown woman, not some hormonal teenager.

“Good morning, Melissa,” she said as she stopped at her assistant’s desk, sounding more cheerful than usual. “Did you get the text about my car?”

“Yes.” Melissa looked at her as though she’d walked in naked. “What happened to you?”

“Can’t a person be in a good mood?”

“If that person is you, no.”

Blair was taken aback. “Am I that much of a bitch?”

“No, of course not. But you’re not one of those perpetually happy people either. What’s going on?”

She smiled. “I’m feeling optimistic today.”

Melissa’s eyebrows rose. “So dinner went well last night?”

“No . . . dinner was a disaster, but I’ve decided to let that go. Is everything set for the party tomorrow night?”

Melissa stared at her for a few moments. “I confirmed the reservation for the tasting room at the brewery on Monday, but I’ll call again to verify. And back to your original question, yes, I received your text. I’ve called the car service, and they’ve towed your car to the shop. They’ll return it to the parking garage, but if it’s not ready in time, we’ll arrange to get you a rental.”

“Perfect,” Blair said in a happy tone as she walked into her office.

“I’m calling a doctor. You’re having some sort of breakdown.”

“Very funny.” She shut the door and sat down at her desk to go through her emails.

Several minutes later her door opened, and Melissa walked in with a cup of coffee. “The deposition of Amanda Beasley is still set up for ten, and Mr. Norfolk’s for two. And Rowena Norfolk still doesn’t want to sit in on either one.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Blair took the cup from her. “Let me know when Mr. Lowry shows up.”

Melissa continued to watch her. “I know you went to law school together.”

Blair’s gaze narrowed as anger burned to life in her chest. “You’re spying on me?”

“No. I was checking up on him.” When Blair didn’t respond, Melissa added, “I had to know his connection to you so I could protect you.”

Blair clenched her teeth. “I don’t need protecting, Melissa. You’re overstepping your bounds.”

Melissa held her ground. “No. I’m not. You wouldn’t tell me, so I had to find out myself. I’m the gatekeeper, Blair. You’re depending on me to keep him away from you, and I need to know what I’m facing. That meant finding out how he knew you.”

Blair didn’t answer.

Melissa sat in the chair in front of her desk. “I’m sorry.”

Blair sighed and lightly rubbed her temple. “No, it’s fine. I overreacted.”

“You two used to date, didn’t you?”

Blair shook her head. “It was more than casual dating.” She groaned. “We were together for a year, then he dropped me to date every other woman in law school.”

“So he’s a player,” Melissa said in disgust. “Do you think he’s trying to go for round two?”

“There’s more to it than that. He’s Neil’s cousin. The groomsman his mother called you about. And I only just found out yesterday.”

Melissa gasped. “What?”

“And there’s more.” Blair found herself spilling out the whole story about the animosity between the two men and the engagement ring, but she left out the part about him taking her home. There was only so much humiliation she could take in one day.

Melissa leaned forward to get a better look at Blair’s left hand. “He actually claimed the ring?”

“Neil and his mother just about flipped their shit, and I could tell that Garrett loved every minute of it.”

“So he’s here to stir up trouble.”

Blair nodded slowly. “Looks like it.”

“Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“I should have told you yesterday, but I was embarrassed.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell for his charm and let him dump me.” Although that wasn’t quite true. She’d never felt like he was using her or pretending to have feelings he didn’t. But that had only made it worse in the end.

“You’re not the first person to fall for a smooth-talking, good-looking man, and our very line of work depends on you not being the last. But the fool-you-once adage seems apropos here.”

“Agreed,” Blair said absently, then she shuddered and looked her assistant in the eye. “Thanks for having my back.”

Melissa stood. “What are good assistants for?”

“You’re coming tomorrow night, aren’t you?”

Melissa looked surprised. “Sure, I can come and make sure everything goes okay if you want.”

“No. Not for work. As my friend.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened as she stared at Blair.

Blair shook her head. What had she been thinking? A few moments of sharing her emotions and she’d presumed their relationship was more than professional. What if Melissa asked for a transfer now? Especially knowing she might be out of a job next week. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to—”

A wide smile spread across Melissa’s face. “I’d love to come. Thank you for asking.”

Blair’s face started to heat up. “Well, I’d give you the details, but it turns out that you know them.”

She laughed. “Sure enough.” She walked to the door and started to open it before turning around, her hand on the knob. “Thanks, Blair.”

Blair’s eyes met hers. “Thank you.” Then she remembered something else. “Oh, can you get me a stack of dollar bills by the end of the day? At least twenty . . . no, better make it forty.”

Melissa’s eyebrows rose in amusement. “Planning a racy bachelorette party?”

“Hardly,” she grumbled. “A tight-ass wedding shower.”

As Melissa walked out of the office, Blair wondered if there were enough bills in circulation to help get her through this weekend.

Chapter Nine

Garrett longed to loosen his tie, but to do so would be, one, unprofessional, and two, it would give Blair the satisfaction of knowing she was getting to him. Not that she didn’t already know. The smirk on her face when she shot glances at him between questions was proof enough of that. But he felt like he was choking. He was choking all right—on embarrassment.

He kept reminding himself that Brian Norfolk wasn’t really his client. That he hadn’t been the one to prep Amanda Beasley for the deposition. But even though Lopez had done a shitty job—so much so that he wished he had the authority to fly back to San Diego and demand his resignation—there was no denying that it was a crap case. If Rowena Norfolk’s attorney had been content to just go through the motions, it would have gone smoother, but Blair Myers Hansen didn’t understand the concept of going through the motions. She was smart, articulate, and ruthless. It didn’t hurt that there wasn’t an attorney alive who could make Lopez’s client look like a saint. Under the circumstances, Garrett was semi-holding his own, but Blair was a barracuda.

Back when they were together, he’d loved to get her riled up. Her eyes always lit up with a righteous fire when she was in the middle of an argument. But their arguments had mostly been over politics and current events—topics they had enjoyed debating. Afterwards, they would laugh together and then take the same passion they’d harnessed for their disagreement to their bed. He hadn’t lied to her when he said she was in the top five of the best lays he’d ever had, but he hadn’t told her the truth either. No one else had even come close.

“Mr. Norfolk,” Blair said, her voice sounding like honey off the comb, but only a fool would fall for it. Garrett was sure her beauty had helped lure Norfolk into complacency. She wore a gray dress today that clung to her curves. Her hair was up again, and she had on a pair of three-inch black patent leather heels. She flipped through the papers in front of her before glancing up at him with those wide blue eyes. “These numbers just aren’t adding up.”

Brian Norfolk gave her a shit-eating grin. “Maybe numbers just aren’t your thing, sweetheart.”

The look she gave him would make most men tuck tail and run. But Brian Norfolk was an arrogant fool. Garrett couldn’t stand the man. He was a fifty-seven-year-old screenwriter who’d experienced only moderate success until four years ago, when one of his movies suddenly became a blockbuster. The money had gone to his head, and while he’d fooled around on his wife more than once over their twenty-year marriage, he’d decided it was finally time to upgrade. But he’d tried out quite a few women before settling on the woman who was currently living in his San Diego condo, waiting to get her hands on his money. Consequently, he was trying to bilk his wife in every conceivable way. Knowing Blair, she’d sink her teeth into this man like a dog with a bone, and while Garrett would love nothing more than to see her take the prick down a few rungs, his job was to decrease the carnage as much as possible. He’d reluctantly warned Norfolk not to take Blair lightly, but the man was clearly ignoring his advice.

The corners of her mouth tipped up slightly, but he knew that look. She was preparing to go in for the kill.

She pulled a stack of papers from a folder and spread them across the table in front of him. “Mr. Norfolk, these are your tax returns for the last four years. Yes?”

He leaned over and scanned the papers. “Yeah, that’s right.”

She slid them to the side and pulled another stack of papers from her folder. “These other papers list your assets, investments, and monthly expenses. These were filled out by you, were they not?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So are you very familiar with what’s on these sheets, or do you need a moment to look them over?” she asked in a patronizing tone.

His body stilled, and he sat up straighter, turning to look at Garrett. Garrett nodded for him to answer, and he turned back to Blair. “No, I know what’s on there.”

She tilted her head at him and proceeded to go through the entries in detail, pointing out all the discrepancies. “Maybe you’re right and numbers aren’t my thing. So how about you save us all some time and tell me where I can find the three million dollars that seem to be unaccounted for? I know you live quite the wild life now, but surely even you couldn’t have frivolously wasted three million dollars.”

He stared at the sheets. “Well, what can I say? I’m in California now. The cost of living is a hell of a lot higher there.” He gave her an ugly smile. “But a simple girl like you wouldn’t know anything about living on the coast, would you?”

Blair examined him like he was a cockroach she was about to crush with her sexy shoe, then pulled another paper from her folder. “I realize I’m a simple girl, so why don’t you explain these bank deposits?” She smiled.

He sat up straighter, his body tense.

She slid the paper slowly in front of him, her fingertips still on the sheet as she leaned over, her eyes boring into his. “Multiple large cash deposits were made to a bank account you set up in your father’s name. Your dead father, I might add.” She stood up and lifted a perfectly teased eyebrow. “Why does your deceased father need one million dollars, Mr. Norfolk? Last I heard, the deceased only need a single coin to travel down the River Styx.”

His eyes widened, and his mouth moved several times, forming and discarding words, before he finally said, “How did you find that?”

She gave him a withering smile. “I know. A simple girl like me, stumbling upon your hidden treasure. Maybe I’m not as simple as you think. There’s another two million unaccounted for. Where are those funds?”

Norfolk’s shoulders slumped, and he looked like a balloon that had been pricked with a pin.

She shrugged. “My client is a fair woman. We could bring this matter to the authorities—who would undoubtedly be very interested to know that you’re committing identity theft as well as tax evasion—since this statement—” she tapped on the paper in front of him, “—clearly shows that you are not only depositing money, but withdrawing it as well.” She paused and smiled. “But we’ll let this go as long as you agree to a new deposition and come clean about everything, and I do mean everything, Mr. Norfolk, down to the hangnail you clipped yesterday morning.” She leaned closer. “Have I made myself clear?”

“But I’m heading to the airport in an hour,” he sputtered.

“Then I guess you’d better reschedule your flight.” Blair turned her pointed gaze on Garrett. “Can we adjourn this until tomorrow morning? We obviously won’t be able to wrap this up in the next hour, but I will expect those bank account locations, account numbers, and balances by the time you show up tomorrow.”

Garrett was so turned on by her right now, and it was becoming increasingly impossible to hide it. Totally professional, Lowry. He glanced at his client. “Mr. Norfolk? Can you have the information ready in time?”

The man looked like he was about to jump across the table and throttle Blair. If he tried, it would be the last thing he ever did. But he gave a quick nod instead.

Garrett nodded. “You’ll have them.”

Blair gathered up her papers and tapped them on the table. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Norfolk. I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow morning.” She stood and turned her back as she headed toward the door.

“You bitch,” he muttered under his breath.

Garrett’s hands fisted, and he gritted his teeth.

Blair stopped and turned around to face him. “Whatever helps you fall asleep at night, Mr. Norfolk.” Then she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

The court reporter was packing up her belongings when Norfolk turned his attention on Garrett. “What the hell was that? I thought you were my lawyer, not her assistant.”

“Mr. Norfolk.” Garrett’s shoulders tensed as he forced himself to refrain from letting loose on the man. “If you ever speak to the opposing counsel so disrespectfully again, we will toss your case, along with your ass, out onto the street. Have I made myself clear?”

The man’s eyes bulged. “But now I’m going to have to pay the bitch even more money!”

Garrett had had enough of this man. “This is your fault. You were required by law to provide all of your income and investments, and now that your wife’s legal team has realized there were missing funds, you’re about to pay out the nose. You would have been better off if you hadn’t tried to hide it.” The real question was how Lopez had missed it. Garrett had glossed over all the financial paperwork, focusing on the totals, because he’d presumed the fool would have done his homework. He intended to call Lopez as soon as he got rid of the asshole next to him.

Norfolk stood and pointed his finger at Garrett. “You’re going to pay for this! I’m talking to your bosses.”

“Go ahead. They’ll tell you the same thing. That’s if they don’t fire you for committing illegal activities. We don’t represent criminals.”

The man’s face turned red. “Do they know you want to screw that bitch who just eviscerated me? I saw you salivating after her. What will they say when they find out you let her get away with it because you want to get into her pants?”

Garrett’s chest constricted as he stood, but he refused to show a reaction to his douchebag client. “I can assure you that I want to sleep with a long list of women, but I’ve never let that affect my counsel.” He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Blair’s assistant in the now-open doorway. Fuck.

Her assistant shot him a glare, then moved toward the court reporter and said something in a hushed tone about coming back in the morning.

Norfolk stomped out of the room, and Garrett closed his laptop and stowed it in his bag, taking a deep breath to help himself calm down. He kept the assistant in the corner of his eye. Based on the protective way she’d kept him from Blair’s office, he suspected she would run to Blair and tell her everything. Should he try to explain himself? His head told him to let it go, but a little voice inside him said that there was still a chance Blair wasn’t happy with Neil. Maybe her assistant could give him some insight. He didn’t expect her to spill her guts about her boss, but he was hoping he could read her body language when she answered him.

The court reporter headed out the door, followed by Blair’s assistant. He caught up to her just outside the room.

“Melissa, isn’t it?”

The woman turned to him in surprise, then her face lost all expression as she waited for him to continue. She reminded him of a slightly younger Blair.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”

Her eyebrows rose, and her mouth tipped into a hint of a smirk. “No, I think everything happened as it should have.”

“I don’t know what Blair told you, but—”

“Ms. Hansen didn’t tell me anything. You are a nonissue, so please don’t give yourself any more importance than you deserve.”

Ouch. She was good. “Okay, fair enough. But I’m sure she told you that I’m her fiancé’s cousin.”

She remained icy. “Really? What a coincidence.”

“I just don’t want things to be awkward this weekend.” Damn, he was royally screwing this up. He sounded lame even to himself.

A patronizing smile lit up her eyes. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Lowry. You don’t have the power to affect anything in regard to Blair’s wedding.” Then she turned and walked down the hall.

“You got burned by the Ice Princess, huh?” a man behind him said.

Garrett spun around to face him. “What?”

“Melissa.” He nodded his head in the direction she’d disappeared. “Her nickname around here is the Ice Princess. She’s just as frosty as the attorney she works for—the Ice Queen.”

Garrett couldn’t believe the arrogance rolling off this guy. “Let me guess, you and half the guys in this office have asked one or both of them out and were turned down.”

The guy’s confidence wavered. “Well . . . yeah.”

“So maybe instead of assigning them sexually degrading names, you should consider the possibility that they actually have good taste.”

He stormed out of the office, leaving the stunned man behind. He was furious by the time he reached his car in the parking garage. First Norfolk, then the asshole in the hallway.

Brian Norfolk was sure to call his boss, but no one there would take his claim seriously. Garrett’s reputation was too widely known for anyone to believe he’d alter his professional behavior to sleep with a woman. And even though he despised the man, he’d treated this case as he did all the ones he worked on—as if it were the most important one on earth. If anything, once Garrett let his boss know what had really happened, he might not have to worry about Norfolk at all. He hadn’t exaggerated about their stance on illegal activity. It was bad timing that Melissa had heard his comment, which would only cement Blair’s certainty that he was still a man-whore. But it was what that man had said about Melissa and Blair that burned him the most. Mostly because he’d been guilty of the very same thing in the past.

He put his hands on the top of his car, taking in deep breaths as he tried to calm down. It sucked looking into a mirror and seeing who he really was. And while he’d been sneaking judgmental glances for about a year now, it felt as if he’d just stepped in front of a full-length mirror.

Garrett Lowry was a dick.

Yet, dick or not, he still wanted Blair. He knew that with even more certainty now than he had six years ago, when he first asked her out for pizza on a cold February night in Columbia, Missouri. Maybe he didn’t deserve her, but he wanted her nonetheless. He still had no idea what, if anything, to do about it. And then he did.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his sister as he drove to his hotel, which was only a few blocks away.

“Garrett! Why are you calling me at this time of day?”

“Hey, Kelsey. Got time to talk?”

“Yeah, the baby’s down for a nap.”

“I’m stuck in Kansas City at Mealy Neily’s wedding.”

“I heard Nana Ruby suckered you into being a groomsman. I’m still not coming down until the rehearsal, so you’re on your own.” She laughed. “And I forgot about that nickname. I haven’t seen him in years. I take it that it still fits?”

“More than ever.”

“Well, I suspect you didn’t call to gossip about Neil, so what’s up?”

“You remember that woman I dated in law school?”

“Blair.” Her tone turned serious. “You haven’t mentioned her since you were a freaking idiot and broke up with her. What about her?”

“She’s here.”

“She’s in the wedding party?”

“She’s the bride.”

She was silent for several seconds. “Oh, Garrett. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not sure I can do this, Kels.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he repeated. “Because she’s my ex.”

“Cut the bullshit, Garrett. You and I both know the reason you called me instead of one of your douchebag friends is because you want the truth. Just say it.”

Fear coursed through his blood. “Say what?”

“Bye.”

“Wait! Okay.” He took a breath. “I still love her. I’ve never stopped loving her. I was a fucking idiot to break up with her. I was an even bigger fucking idiot when I didn’t go to her on hands and knees years ago and apologize for being a fucking idiot.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He heard the smile in her voice.

“Look, I’ve already had enough humiliation in one day without my sister adding to it.”

“What else has happened to my wittle baby bwother today?” she said in a baby voice. She had never been one to cut him slack.

“If I’m going to seek advice from you, then that last question will have to be stricken from the record. Otherwise I’ll never be able to take you seriously.”

She laughed.

“When I told my firm I had to come to K.C. for the wedding, they asked me to handle the depositions for one of our associates’ cases.”

“Oh, God. She’s the opposing counsel.”

He’d always known she was smart, which was one of the reasons he’d called her for advice. “And she’s fried my ass for two days now.”

“I bet she’s loving every minute of that.” She sounded pleased.

“Whose side are you on?” he asked.

“Yours, but you have to admit she’s completely entitled to hand you a slice or two of humble pie.”

He pulled into his hotel parking lot and put the car into park. “What should I do, Kels?”

“Take it like a man. Don’t be like Mealy Neily.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She was quiet again. “Is she happy, Garrett? I know it’s difficult for either one of us to imagine someone being happy with him, but what if she is? Do you really want to take that from her too?”

“No, and I’ve already considered that. I have to go to this pre-wedding party they’re having for family and friends tomorrow night, so I was hoping to talk to her before then. Looks like we have another deposition in the morning. Maybe I can catch her after that.”

“You really want to wait that long?”

“I don’t know when to talk to her, Kels. I finally got her alone for a few minutes yesterday, and I completely froze up.”

“Mr. Smooth froze up? You’ve got it bad.”

“Look, I know I do,” he said, getting frustrated. “I’m asking for your advice on how to get her back.”

“Okay, okay.” Her tone was soft and soothing. “I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.”

“First you have to accept that just because you want her back doesn’t mean she feels the same. And since we are no longer ruled by caveman philosophy, you’ll have to deal with that.”

“I know, but I think she still cares about me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I ran into her in a hotel bar in Phoenix on Monday night. We were both stranded there because of the weather. She was drunk . . . and she rarely got drunk when we were together. Only when she was really upset. In any case, they didn’t have a room for her, so I let her sleep in mine.”

“Oh, Garrett. You didn’t.” Disappointment was heavy in her voice.

“No. I did not. Do people really have that low of an opinion of me?”

“Let’s just say it’s a reputation earned.”

That was sobering. Especially coming from his big sister. He shook his head. “She fell asleep on the bed, and I told her I was going to spend the night at the airport. But she told me to stay. We slept fully clothed, but she pulled me close and said she missed me.”

“Oh, my God. Please tell me that you did not sleep on top of the covers.”

“Kelsey.”

“Haven’t you seen those news shows, Garrett? They’re covered in all kinds of gross germs and bacteria.”

“I’m pretty sure those are the same thing. And I need you to focus.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “This is important. What were the exact words she used? For all you know she was drunk enough to have mistaken you for her dog.”

“That is more disgusting than your hotel comforter story.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen them use the black light.”

“Kelsey. I need you to focus. She said my name. She said, ‘I miss you, Garrett.’”

“Wow.” She was silent for several seconds. “I guess that means you can move to step two.”

“Which is?”

“Proving that you’re actually not lower than pond scum. The question is how do you pull off that deception?”

“Kelsey.”

“Okay, I’m kidding. Kind of. You have to know you’ve been a slut, Garrett. And honestly, it’s pretty gross.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

“Hey, admitting you have a problem is the first step, right?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Are you sure you still love this woman? That was five years ago, Gar-Bear. She’s changed. You’ve changed. And let’s not discount that she’s with Neil, whom you hate with a passion.”

“I don’t hate him. I just despise him.”

“Hate. Despise. Whatever. But you can’t ignore that Neil is marrying your old girlfriend. That is bound to prick your ego, jealousy—whatever you choose to call it. Don’t let that blind you.”

“I will admit that the thought of her with Neil . . .” His voice trailed off, and he sucked in a breath, not letting his mind go there. “You do have a valid point, but I’ve been thinking about her for a while now . . . long before I saw her in Phoenix, found out she was Neil’s fiancée, and was completely turned on by the way she eviscerated my client today.”

“I really hope that was a metaphor, or I’ll be forced to call the authorities, brother or not.”

“Kelsey.” He took a breath. “I’ve been pining for her since our breakup, and the last year has been even worse. Everyone around me is starting to settle down, which has made me realize that I want to share my life with someone too. So I’ve been serial dating—not screwing—women for the last year to try and find a partner who comes close to matching what I had with Blair, and it’s just not happening. I fucked up when I let her go, Kels, and I’m going to pay for it the rest of my life. I deserve it, but I want her anyway, and as long as she isn’t one hundred percent content with Neil, I’m going to try to get her back. Tell me what to do.”

“Did you actually use the word pining?”

He groaned. “Forget it.” His ego was bruised enough by the mere fact that he was asking his sister for help.

“Garrett, I’m sorry. I think you caught me off guard. That’s probably the most real thing I’ve heard you say in a long time.”

He paused, then said quietly, “I love her, Kels.”

“Then I’ll help you. But you have to do what I say.”

“Why do I think I’m going to regret this?”

“Because it’s going to be painful, but you want the girl, right?”

“More than anything.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “You two had fun when you were together, right? The weekend I spent with you in Columbia, you both laughed and joked around. Remind her of how much you enjoy each other’s company.”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s good.”

“Prove that you’re trustworthy now. You screwed her over, so you have to show her that you won’t hurt her again. That one’s going to be tricky since you’re running out of time.”

His chest tightened as he realized just how little time he had left. “Anything else?”

“Show her how much you love her. You two were in love once. Maybe you weren’t the typical romantic couple, but it was obvious that you were crazy about her. There’s no way Neil can give her that. He’s too uptight.”

He swallowed a lump of fear. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to do all of this before Saturday.

“Good luck, Garrett,” she said with uncharacteristic seriousness. “I hope you can pull this off.”

“Thanks.” He needed all the help he could get.

Thirty minutes later, Garrett pulled into the parking lot of St. Luke’s Hospital. He’d already called his boss, who’d told him to go through with the new deposition. Later on, they would have a partner meeting to decide whether to keep Brian Norfolk on as a client. At the moment, he was ready to take his sister’s advice.

He’d decided it was time to take a different tactic with Neil and discuss the situation with his cousin like adults. And the sooner the better. If he was convinced Neil really loved Blair—and vice versa—he’d give up his impulsive claim to the ring, beg Nana Ruby to let him out of the wedding, and leave Blair alone. But so far his limited observance suggested otherwise. God help him for hoping he was right.

Garrett had no idea how to find his cousin, so he went to the information desk and asked for directions to his office. The woman looked up Neil’s office number and gave him instructions on how to find it. He took the elevator to the correct floor and found the office without having to go through a receptionist. He raised his hand to knock on the closed door but lowered it when he heard arguing inside.

“You have to choose!” a woman shouted.

“Keep your voice down, Layla,” Neil snarled. “Someone’s going to hear you.”

“We can’t keep doing this! You’re getting married, Neil!”

“Layla.” Neil’s voice was soft and soothing now. “It’s only for a little while, and then we can be together.”

“But you’re getting married,” she said, quieter this time.

“We’ll work it out, baby. I promise. Meet me at my apartment later tonight. I’ll text you when I leave the hospital.”

Fury ran through Garrett’s veins, followed fast by horror. Neil was cheating on Blair. It was her worst nightmare come true. Before Garrett could decide whether to bust the door down and punch his cousin out or duck away to reconsider the situation, the door opened.

A young woman with red, swollen eyes gasped as she nearly walked into him. Her hair was tangled, and she reached down to tug on the hem of her shirt. Neil stood behind her, his own hair disheveled, with a shocked look on his face.

“Garrett.” The word carried a mixture of horror and surprise. “What are you doing here?”

The woman tried to get past Garrett, but he continued to block the doorway. “Getting more answers to my questions than I expected.”

“Layla,” Neil said after sucking in a deep breath. “Thank you for bringing those lab reports.”

“My pleasure.” But her voice suggested she was close to sobbing.

Garrett considered keeping her here, but his beef was with his cousin, not with the nervous woman in front of him. He stepped to the side, and she bolted past him.

“She’s a nurse on one of the floors I work on,” Neil said.

Garrett fought every instinct within him and went into attorney mode. No emotion. No reaction. Just let him spill his guts.

“She was bringing me some lab results.”

Garrett remained still.

“How long were you outside the door?”

“Long enough.”

“I know it looks bad, but we were discussing a patient.” When Garrett didn’t respond, he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Catching you cheating on Blair.” He was surprised he sounded so calm. So rational.

Neil tried to look indignant, but did a very poor job of it. “How could you think that?”

“Don’t insult me, Neil.” His words carried the first note of disgust he’d betrayed.

“I don’t know what—”

“Cut the shit.” He looked over his shoulder at the hospital personnel hurrying down the hall, then back at his cousin. “Would you like to have this conversation out here, or in your office with the door closed? What would happen to your sterling reputation if word got out that you plan to get married on Saturday and keep your girlfriend?”

Two nurses lifted their eyebrows and glanced at them as they passed.

Neil swallowed, his face turning pale. “Let’s go inside and close the door.” But fear filled his eyes as he ducked into his office. Neil was scared of him . . . or maybe scared of what the others would think of him if they knew the truth.

Good. He should be.

Garrett walked in and shut the door. Neil backed up, moving behind his desk without ever turning away from his cousin. “What difference does it make to you what I do?”

“I couldn’t give a flying fuck what you do, but this affects Blair.”

“Blair? Why would you care about Blair? You have no reason to care about her.” Neil bumped into the bookshelf behind him and jumped with fright.

Garrett clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. “Wrong. Blair and I dated in law school.” God, what had he done? He was so caught up in the horror of the moment that he’d played his one ace in the hole.

Neil’s mouth tipped into a satisfied grin. “You’re the asshole that dumped her and then slept with half of law school.”

Garrett didn’t answer.

Neil’s shoulders relaxed. “What are you so pissed about? You did the exact same thing.”

“Not even close, you dickhead,” Garrett seethed, moving closer. “I never cheated on her.”

“You think breaking up with her to become the law school slut was any better? Between you and her father, she’s messed up in the head. But she’s such a cold fish in the bedroom, I can’t say I blame you. Why do you think I’m sleeping with Layla?”

Cold fish? God, he really knew nothing about her at all. But his anger quickly turned to guilt and horror. He knew how much her father’s philandering had affected her ability to trust men, but could he really have played a part in her unhappiness?

Encouraged by Garrett’s silence, Neil continued, “I’ve convinced Blair that I need to keep my condo so I can be close to the hospital when I’m on call.”

“So you can screw your girlfriend.”

“Hell, Blair’s at the office so long most nights, she’ll barely notice that I’m not around.”

“Why in God’s name are you marrying her?” he asked in dismay.

Neil looked at him like he was insane. “The prestige. The stability. The money.”

“The money? You’re a doctor!”

Neil shook his head. “I’m an infectious disease physician. I’m employed by the hospital. By the time I’ve paid my bills and my student loans each month, I barely have anything left. But Blair’s a hotshot lawyer on the rise. Do you have any idea how much money she’ll make off those cases once she makes partner?” He grinned and sat on the edge of the desk, then waved his hand at Garrett. “You know. You do what she does.”

Garrett stared at him in shock.

“Look, I’m not cut out to be faithful. If I’m with a woman for more than six months, I get bored. Hell—” he waved a hand toward Garrett, “—you know what I’m talking about. You move from woman to woman. Maybe it’s a genetic trait.” Mistaking Garrett’s silence for approval, he continued. “Blair won’t have a shot at partnership if she’s not married, and I’ll be taken more seriously here if I’m married. I’m doing her a favor. She demands little of my time, and I let her work her crazy hours without complaint. She doesn’t really want kids, and neither do I. We’ll live our mostly separate lives, and everyone will be happy.”

“Except for the part where you’re cheating on her.”

Neil rolled his eyes in exasperation. “She’s too busy to notice, Garrett. And she doesn’t want to know. It’s not like I’m depriving her of anything. She doesn’t have much of a sex drive.”

Garrett sucked in several breaths, fighting the rising urge to beat the shit out of his cousin. He was using Blair, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it from him, him of all people. He’d heard enough. “Let me tell you what’s going to happen.”

Neil’s eyes widened in surprise, then turned to amusement. “Okay.”

“You’re going to go to Blair tonight and tell her that you have changed your mind. That you aren’t worthy of her or you don’t love her. Or both. I don’t care. But you will not tell her that you are cheating on her, or it will kill her.”

Neil eyed him with disbelief. “Did you just listen to what I said? Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s the decent thing to do.”

“Why do you even care?” He gasped. “Oh! This is about the ring. You want me to break my engagement so you can get the ring.”

“I don’t give ten shits about that damn ring!” Garrett shouted. “Keep the stupid thing!”

A smile of understanding spread across Neil’s face, and maliciousness filled his eyes. “Oh, my God. You still love her.”

Garrett swallowed his rising nausea. He’d just screwed up big time. Now Neil would use this against him. “Don’t do this to her.”

“You do.”

“At least one of us does.”

Neil started laughing, and Garrett’s anger grew. “I’m not going to break up with her. This is exactly what she wants. What she needs.”

Garrett shook his head. “She needs someone to love her.”

“And that person is you?” Neil laughed again. “You showed her how much you cared about her in law school, when you broke up with her and slept around. Besides, she’s already told me that she doesn’t love me. Not in the matrimonial sense. We care about each other in our own way. This is the perfect solution for both of us.”

“You’re crazy if you believe that.”

Neil crossed his arms. “I really don’t care what you think. I’m not breaking up with Blair days before her wedding. That would kill her just as much as finding out I’m sleeping with Layla. And if you don’t know that, then you don’t know her very well after all.” Neil hunched over his computer and tapped a few keys, then straightened up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to visit a couple patients before I leave for the day. As you know, I have plans.” Then he winked.

Garrett’s hands clenched at his sides. “What’s to stop me from telling Blair everything you just told me?”

“She won’t believe it if you do.” Neil grinned. “Not that I have anything to worry about. You won’t tell her. You just admitted you don’t want her to know I’m sleeping with Layla. The only other thing you have over me is that I’ve told you I’m not passionately in love with her, and while I’ve never outright told her so, it wouldn’t come as a surprise. Especially after she recently confessed the same thing was true for her.”

The words penetrated the haze of his shock: Blair doesn’t love him.

Neil ushered him out of the office and turned to lock his door. “I presume you’ll be at the party tomorrow night.”

“Yeah,” he said absently. He was busy reworking his plan.

“Then see you later, cousin.” Neil winked again, with the assurance of a man who had everything he wanted, then walked down the hall, whistling softly.

Garrett shot daggers at his back. Let Neil think he had the upper hand. He might have practicality on his side, but Garrett had something else . . . something that was certain to win Blair over.

He’d show her what she was missing.

Chapter Ten

The last thing Blair wanted to deal with right now was a bridal shower. She’d found the entire day unnerving. The depositions had gone well, but while she’d savored the chance to give that egotistical prick Brian Norfolk his comeuppance, spending hours in a room with Garrett sitting across from her had nearly driven her insane.

The minute he’d walked in wearing his grey suit and ice blue tie, her heart had begun to race, and her face had flushed. She had spent most of her first deposition trying to convince her traitorous body that she wasn’t interested in him. Then she’d spent half of the Brian Norfolk deposition thinking about Garrett naked and all the delicious things he used to make her feel.

She had to put a stop to this. She couldn’t afford to be distracted tomorrow. Rowena Norfolk was paying her to make sure she got the best possible settlement—not to fantasize about Garrett stripping off her clothes and—

“Blair?” Melissa asked, standing in the doorway of her office. “The service is dropping off your car in about fifteen minutes. Do you want me to go secure it in the parking garage, or will you be leaving soon? Your wedding shower starts in forty-five minutes.”

“Um . . .”

Melissa walked into the office. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” she asked, flustered.

“You look flushed. Do you think you’re coming down with something?”

She was coming down with something all right. Her libido was running full throttle after spending years in hibernation. “I’m fine. I’m just thinking about how the deposition went.”

Melissa grinned. “You nailed him, huh?”

“He never even saw it coming.” She took perverse pleasure in that part. The men always thought they were pulling a fast one on Blair, and she let them think it in the beginning. In fact, she planned it that way. She wanted them to underestimate her. It made the look of shock and horror even sweeter when she finally pulled her gotcha move. The euphoria of that moment would never get old.

Only today, the horror in Brian Norfolk’s eyes wasn’t what had made her breathless. It was the raw hunger in Garrett Lowry’s eyes after she’d executed her plan to bring Norfolk to his knees.

He still wanted her.

She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised. She’d sensed it the night before, particularly during the car ride to her condo. But even then, his desire hadn’t been so blatant.

“Well?” Melissa asked.

“What?” She looked up at her with raised eyebrows.

“Your car . . . Are you leaving or staying later?”

To Blair’s horror, her face flushed even more. “I’ll leave. I need to run home and change before I head to Megan’s mother’s house.”

“Megan’s going to be there?”

Blair smiled. “Yeah, she flew in this afternoon.”

“I like her.”

“Me too.” Blair glanced up at her assistant. “What are you doing tonight? You’re welcome to come to this thing as well.”

Melissa laughed. “Nice try. Showers of any kind give me hives. I’ll go to the party tomorrow night, but a shower with games . . . no way.”

“Games?” Blair asked in dismay. “Good God. We won’t have to play any of those, will we?” But then she remembered Megan’s mother was planning the party. Knickers was certain to have games. “I could force you to go, you know.”

Her assistant chuckled. “Now you sound desperate. But don’t worry. Libby and Megan will be there to help you through it.”

“Yeah, but Neil’s mother and sister will be there too. Not to mention Garrett’s Nana Ruby.”

Melissa’s smile fell. “Neil.”

Blair shook her head. “What about Neil?”

“You said Garrett’s nana. Not Neil’s.”

Oh, shit. She had. “Garrett’s nana. Neil’s nana. She’s the same person. It makes no difference.” But it made every difference. What was he doing to her?

Melissa looked even less convinced than Blair, but she didn’t call her on it. “Is there anything you need me to do to help you get out of here?”

“You cleared my schedule for the deposition in the morning?”

Melissa flashed a smug grin. “Your ten o’clock meeting has been rescheduled for Friday. It was that or schedule it for after your honeymoon.”

“Good call.” The meeting was with a potential new client, and she knew she could possibly lose her if she put off the meeting for another week. Women who’d been blindsided by their husbands’ infidelity or unexpected divorce papers needed almost immediate reassurance that everything was going to be okay. And while Blair never deceived them, she always assured them that she’d fight for them. And she did. Still, Neil was bound to be unhappy. She’d promised to spend the day with his family, but now she’d have to come into the office for a few hours. Was the fact that she was secretly relieved a bad sign?

“And the court reporter has been scheduled?”

“Before she even left the building.” Melissa hesitated. “In fact, before Mr. Lowry left the conference room.”

Something in her tone held a sound of warning.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Blair asked.

Melissa stared at her for several uncomfortable seconds. “I really like my job, Blair. I love working for you.”

Blair released a sigh. She’d tried not to obsess about the threat hanging over her head. She couldn’t do anything about it, and worrying about it was wasted effort. Still, the unknown loomed over her like a nuclear bomb’s mushroom cloud. “I promise I’m doing everything I can to make sure we both still have a job next week. And if I have to move somewhere else, I’ll try my best to bring you with me.”

Melissa’s jaw went slack. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Oh, shit. She let out a long sigh. If anyone deserved to know, it was her assistant. “You can’t tell a soul.”

Melissa rolled her eyes. “Please.”

Blair gave her a quick version of Ben Stuart’s warning, but enough for her to convey the seriousness of the situation.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Melissa asked.

“I’m getting married on Saturday. That should take care of the issue. With any luck, you won’t have to worry about your job.”

“It’s not that.” Her mouth twisted as she looked down at her lap, then back up at Blair. “Maybe it would be best if I kept my opinion to myself.”

Blair gave her assistant her full attention as warning bells went off in her head. “Your opinion about what?”

“Mr. Lowry.”

Oh, shit. The way she’d been mooning over him had to be incredibly obvious. Melissa was a bright and perceptive woman. One of the many reasons Blair loved having her as her right-hand person. She often saw things that Blair didn’t. “Go on.”

Melissa bit her lower lip, then gave her a half smile. “Mr. Lowry was talking to his client when I went back in to schedule the reporter. He told him that he liked to sleep with quite a few women.”

Blair fought the urge to suck in a breath. So Melissa thought she was a fool . . . “I see,” she said in an icy tone.

“But in his defense—” Melissa said grudgingly, ignoring her boss’s change in demeanor, “he said it after Mr. Norfolk accused Mr. Lowry of going easy on you because he wanted to sleep with you.”

Blair cringed. “And what’s the point of any of this?”

“I’m not sure really.” Melissa clasped her hands together and fiddled with her fingers. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it at all.”

“Yet you did. Why?”

“I think he might have other motives.”

Now she had Blair’s attention. She leaned her forearm on the desk. “Why do you say that?”

“Because Mr. Lowry caught me in the hallway to try and make up for his attempt to weasel his way onto your schedule yesterday. I quickly shut him down, and as I walked away, Bill Hendricks ribbed him for being turned down by the Ice Princess. He also told Mr. Lowry that you’re known as the Ice Queen.”

Both women were aware of their nicknames, not that either of them cared. “So?”

“Mr. Lowry blasted him for calling us sexually degrading names.”

Blair scowled. “Was he doing it for your benefit? Thinking you’d come back and tell me like you’re doing now?”

“No,” she said quietly. “I’d already rounded the corner and was eavesdropping. Mr. Lowry’s voice was low, as if he was trying not to call attention to himself. He seemed furious.”

Blair slowly spun her chair around so she could look out her window. What was Garrett up to? He claimed he hadn’t known that she was Neil’s fiancée, and maybe she was gullible, but she believed him. So what was his angle? Did he want one last round in bed with her before she married his cousin? “Thanks for the intel. I’ll see if I can figure out how to use it to my advantage tomorrow.”

“That’s not why I told you.”

She jerked her gaze up to Melissa.

Melissa’s voiced softened. “I think he really cares about you, Blair.”

Blair’s heart skipped a beat, and she smashed down the hope that bloomed in her heart. Garrett Lowry had destroyed her. And here he was turning her life upside down mere days before her wedding. Even if she hadn’t been on the verge of getting married to another man, it would have been madness to walk down that path a second time. “Fool me once, Melissa,” she said with a bitter tone. “He had his chance, and he blew it.”

“You really don’t believe in second chances?”

“No,” she said with more force than she’d intended, perhaps to convince herself. “And what are you doing advocating that I sleep with him? I’m marrying Neil in three days.” Blair stared her down with her iciest glare.

Most people would have crawled out the door, but Melissa squared her shoulders and held her gaze. “I never said to sleep with him, Blair. Your mind went there on its own. Don’t you think it means something?” Her voice softened, and she leaned forward. “I know you were thinking about him when I walked through that door, and you have never once looked that way while dating Neil. Not even in the beginning.”

Blair shook her head, her chest tightening. Panic flooded her senses. “Our relationship isn’t based on hormones. It’s built on respect. You know that.”

“But don’t you want love, Blair?”

“I want lots of things, Melissa.” Her voice shook, but it wasn’t with anger. “I want to eat my weight in chocolate cake, but it doesn’t mean I should. In fact, it’s quite bad for me.” She waved her hand toward her assistant. “Alcoholics crave a drink, but it doesn’t mean they should have one.”

“Blair.”

“No. Wanting something doesn’t mean you should have it. In fact, it often means you shouldn’t.” Melissa didn’t respond, and Blair’s panic surged, stealing her breath. “I’m getting married in three days, Melissa,” she said again.

Understanding filled her assistant’s eyes. “I know.”

She shook her head, feeling herself lose control. “I can’t trust him. I don’t trust him. He walked out on me, and he had another woman in his apartment the very next night.”

“Maybe it wasn’t what you thought.”

“She was in her trashy underwear.” Blair’s voice rose, and her lack of control scared her more than her feelings for Garrett. What in the hell was happening to her?

Melissa was silent for a moment. “Everyone makes mistakes, Blair. Even you. Think about it.” Then she stood and walked to the door. “I’ll let you know when the car arrives.”

The door shut, and Blair sucked in deep breaths, trying to calm down. She was dangerously close to crying, and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d shed her tears over Garrett years ago, so she sure as hell didn’t want to shed new ones now. Suddenly the room was too small. Her dress was too tight. Her life too confining. She stood and began to pace, chanting a mantra in her head. “I don’t need him. It’s going to be okay.”

It was the very mantra she’d taught herself five years ago.

Tears burned her eyes, but she continued to walk her straight lines, and after several minutes passed, the numbness in her face and head slowly faded. By the time Melissa buzzed in to say her car had arrived, she was relatively calm. By the time she reached the elevator, she had convinced herself everything really was going to be okay.

That was, if she survived her wedding shower.

Chapter Eleven

Garrett hit his hotel bar as soon as he left the hospital. It was probably the least productive thing he could do, but he needed courage—not to mention inspiration—to go through with his nonexistent plan.

He was on his second beer when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Do all you lawyers waste your money on fancy beer?”

He turned and a grin spread across his face. An older woman leaned on a four-legged steel cane, the feet covered with neon orange tennis balls. She wore a pair of jeans with a white knit shirt. Her face was covered with the deep wrinkles and brown spots of someone who’d spent most of her life under the sun. He knew for a fact that a few scars on her face were from skin cancer removals. Late seventies or not, she was stronger than anyone he knew. Yet she’d aged quite a bit since he’d seen her last. She looked thinner and more fragile. The cane she was leaning on didn’t help. “It’s not a fancy beer, Nana. It’s Coors. Just like you taught me to drink.” He’d give her a hug, but she’d never been big on displays of affection.

A grudging grimace tightened her mouth before she said, “I bet it came with a fancy price.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “I’m surprised to see you here. I expected you to stay at a Motel 6.” Garrett’s mother had told him the wedding guests were staying at this hotel, which was why he was here, but he’d never expected his nana to stay somewhere so upscale.

“Neil insisted I stay here, and the fool paid for it,” she grumbled. “He’s trying to show me how much money he has now. I suppose you’re trying to flaunt it too.”

He laughed. “You think anything that costs more than fifty dollars a night is too much.”

“I don’t need my bathroom covered in marble. It’s a damn hotel room, not a church.”

He chuckled and lifted his bottle in a salute. “How about I get you a fancy beer to drink? I’ll waste my money.”

She pondered it for a moment and moved to the stool next to him. “Why the hell not? I’m going to a damn wedding shower for Neil’s bride-to-be. I’ve never met her, but if she’s anything like my pompous grandson, she’s bound to be a doozy. I’ll need all the help I can get.”

Garrett’s eyes widened, and several questions ran through his head at once. He latched onto the one that seemed the most important. “Wait? You’re going to a wedding shower? Tonight?”

“Ain’t that what I just said?” She climbed up on the stool and looked around. “Where’s my beer?”

Garrett flagged down the bartender and ordered her beverage.

“You and I need to have a chat.” Her tone was hard, which prepared him for what she had to say next. He was lucky she hadn’t led with it. “What the Sam Hill you been doin’, boy?”

He steeled his shoulders. “Exactly what you asked me to do, Nana.” He held out his hands. “I went to the dinner last night. I’m here like a dutiful grandson.”

“Bullshit,” she barked. “I gave you one assignment, and you blew it to kingdom come.”

“Nana, I can explain.”

“Save it.” She gave him a stern look. “Why do you want the ring?”

What should he tell her? He suspected she’d understand if he told her the truth, but then she’d try and take matters into her own hands. Nana Ruby wasn’t known for her subtlety. “I guess Mom’s rubbed off on me.”

“So how do you plan to get it?”

“I told Aunt Debra and Neil that we’d let you decide.”

She stared at him like he’d lost his mind, then started to chuckle. “I want you to take me to the shower tonight.”

“A wedding shower?” Part of him was horrified, but he also knew Blair would be there, of course. “Okay.”

Her eyebrows lifted in suspicion. “No argument?”

Garrett gave her a lazy smile. “I’ve learned it’s pointless to argue with you, Nana Ruby. Besides, I’m already in enough hot water.”

“Your mother’s gonna be there.”

His smile fell. “She said she was coming tomorrow.”

Nana shrugged. “She changed her mind.”

Well, that changed things. World War III was liable to break out at the party. He really didn’t want to be part of it, but he could only imagine how Blair would handle it. It could quickly degenerate into Armageddon, with all three Lowry women pitted against one another. “Are they serving dinner at this thing?”

She pulled an envelope out of her brown purse. “Here. This will tell you everything you need to know.”

He pulled the cream invitation out of the envelope and a rose scent hit his nose. The heavy paper was embossed with gold script and covered with flowers.

Nicole Vandemeer cordially invites you to attend a garden party wedding shower for Blair Myers Hansen on August 21 at 7:00 p.m. Light sandwiches and tea provided. Wear pastel colored clothing to fit in with the theme.

The bartender brought Nana her beer, and she took a sip. “You think it would taste better at this fancy price.”

He grinned. “It doesn’t cost that much more, Nana.” He waved the invitation. “A garden party? Light sandwiches and tea? That doesn’t seem like your kind of party.”

“I tried to get out of it, but your aunt had a conniption.”

“Why am I going?”

“Because I said so.”

Maybe this was his punishment for claiming the ring, but if so, he would take it—any excuse to spend more time around Blair. Then another thought hit him. “Wait. Are other men going to be there?”

It would be incredibly awkward if he was the only man around, but he’d live with it if he could somehow get Blair alone.

She shrugged. “Hell if I know. Your aunt and your mother are meeting us there.”

“So why didn’t you go with them?”

“You back-talkin’ me, boy?”

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. How did you know where to find me, anyway?”

“Your momma told me you were staying at this hotel along with the rest of the people from out of town, and where the hell else would I find you except at the bar?”

She was covering something up. Part of his job was to discern when someone was lying, and he’d studied his family to the nth degree. His nana rarely lied or dissembled, but whenever she did, her left hand clenched slightly. And right now she was making a loose fist. “I’m not one to typically hang out in bars, Nana, so that seems unlikely. Try again.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t you worry about the whys of it. Just do what I tell you.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Do you want to get something to eat before we go? Light sandwiches don’t sound too filling.”

“Hell, no. Why would you want to throw your money away when we’re about to get free food?”

He laughed. Nana Ruby was notorious for her penny-pinching. She was a practical woman who lived on several thousand acres of rolling hills and farmland in the Ozarks. She’d been widowed young and raised two girls on her own at a time when farming hadn’t been profitable. The land had been in her family for over a hundred fifty years, and as she always said, there it would stay. The only way she’d made ends meet was to become a spendthrift. And although she had more money now, and the land itself was worth a bundle, she still held her coin purse with a tight grasp.

“Do you mind if I change clothes before I go?” He was still wearing his suit and tie, although he’d lost the coat, and his loosened tie still hung around his neck. “I’m sure you don’t want to be seen with a fancy lawyer, and my suit doesn’t exactly fit with the theme.” He released a chuckle. That didn’t sound like Blair at all. He bet she was bristling at the very idea of it.

Nana Ruby frowned, but he could see the hint of a smile on her lips. “Make it quick. I want to get this thing over with.”

He hurried up to his room and changed into a pair of jeans and a light blue short-sleeved button-down shirt. Nana Ruby was bound to make some comment about how much time he’d taken with his appearance, but he was in for the fight of his life, and he needed to be prepared.

It was time to pour on the charm.

Chapter Twelve

Blair was sure she’d been dropped into the middle of hell. “Tell me—why did I agree to this again?” she whisper-hissed.

“Because you’re a nice person?” Megan teased.

Libby laughed. “More like you couldn’t figure a way out of it.”

Blair should have known better. Nicole Vandemeer was known for taking everything to the extreme, and this wedding shower was no different. She’d decided on a garden theme, which for most hostesses might have meant purchasing a couple of pots of flowers, but Megan’s mother never did anything half-assed. And while Blair appreciated that character trait more than most people, she was currently caught up in a floral explosion.

The Vandemeers’ backyard was a magazine-worthy showcase even without the garden-themed decorations. It consisted of a two-tiered deck that led to an outdoor pool surrounded by a paver stone patio, but Knickers—as Megan and her friends called Nicole Vandemeer behind her back—had gone all out. Tall wooden poles were spaced about six feet apart around the perimeter of the patio. Organza was draped from pole to pole, and mason glass jars full of fresh-cut flowers covered tables draped with white linen. A large serving table set off to one side was covered with an assortment of small sandwiches, fresh vegetables, and crackers, with wheelbarrows on either side stuffed full of flowers. Mason jars with flickering votive candles hung from the trees around the patio, and hundreds of white and yellow daisies floated in the pool.

“I’m pretty sure those flowers are going to screw up the filter system,” Josh McMillan said from behind them as he walked out the back door and onto the deck.

Megan’s face lit up, and she turned toward him. “That’s what Dad said.”

Blair scowled as he put an arm around Megan’s waist and pulled her close.

“You weren’t supposed to come to this, Josh. It’s a girls’ shower.” Blair’s relationship with Megan’s husband had been rocky from the start. Blair had assumed that Megan, who was too trusting of people, was being taken advantage of by a predator. No one normal would volunteer to be someone’s fake fiancé, after all. The fact that Josh had turned out to be the real deal was suddenly irritating as hell. She couldn’t care less about who came to her shower, but she didn’t feel like seeing Megan and Josh together right now.

“Funny, that’s what Knickers said.” He laughed, then gave his wife a long kiss.

Without intending to, Blair found herself staring at them. “Yet you came anyway.”

He lifted his face, keeping his gaze on his beaming wife. “Megan and I have been apart for two nights and three days. If she’s going to be here, so am I.”

“But the real reason he’s here is because of Dad,” Megan added. “Dad was worried about being outnumbered, so he wanted Josh to keep him company.”

“Funny,” Blair said dryly. “I’m sure Noah’s in there too. How much company does your dad need?”

“Neither of them are staying for the shower, Blair,” Libby said, giving Megan a quick glance. “They’ll be in the house with Megan’s dad. If you want Neil to come over, why don’t you give him a call? It’s not too late.”

“I don’t want Neil to come.” It came out a bit too harsh, but the thought of Neil showing up sounded suffocating.

Megan’s eyes widened slightly, and she gave Josh a quick glance.

They must have come up with some secret eye contact language in the few months they’d been together, because Josh nodded and headed for the back door. “I’m going to check on your dad.”

That pissed off Blair even more. “For the love of God, can’t you two stop the goo-goo eyes for more than two seconds?”

“Blair,” Megan said quietly. “What’s going on?”

Her heart pounded an uneven dance in her chest as she looked into the earnest faces of her best friends. Could she tell them how Garrett’s sudden re-arrival into her life had incited her conflicting feelings? They thought she was cold, calculating, and heartless, and honestly, how could she blame them? She’d spent the better part of ten years convincing them and everyone else around her that she encompassed all of those traits. The only person she’d allowed to see her truly vulnerable was Garrett.

The thought of him made her eyes burn and her chest constrict. Oh, God. Why did she have to feel this way? Her relationship with Neil was fine; it was steady, and it was reliable. Sure, the energy between them was lukewarm at best, and they didn’t have sex very often, but she was fine with their arrangement. Besides, if Neil wasn’t interested in sex, he was less likely to stray. The problem was that an increasingly vocal part of her craved a hot, physical relationship like the one she’d shared with Garrett. Did she really want to live the rest of her life with nothing but mediocre sex?

“Blair, darling,” Knickers called out the back door. “Your mother-in-law’s here.”

Oh, shit. People were starting to arrive. She had to pull herself together. “Future mother-in-law,” Blair muttered under the breath, then started to panic even more. She wasn’t sure she could play nice with Debra Fredrick two nights in a row, let alone for the three more days she had left. Even worse, her mother hadn’t been able to get off work, and now Neil’s mother was likely to make a big deal of it. “I need a drink.”

Something in her tone must have alarmed her friends. They exchanged a quick glance before Libby said, “I’ll go get it.”

“You better not bring me back some damn girly drink,” Blair said, eyeing the punch bowl with radioactive pink liquid on the food table.

Of course, Debra had already slipped out the back door. Without any preliminaries, she reached into her monstrous purse and pulled out the Curse Kitty. “That will be a dollar, Blair.”

Libby started laughing as soon as she saw the plastic cat bank. The top corner of the mailing tape had pulled away and was covered in black lint. “What in the hell is that?”

“It’s the Curse Kitty, of course,” Blair said dryly. “See? It’s printed as plain as day on the label.”

Debra’s eyebrows arched as she turned her gaze on Libby. “And you owe me a dollar, too.”

Blair sucked in a breath. “Debra, when most people meet someone for the first time, they start off with introductions—they don’t extort them for money.”

Debra’s face flushed, but her mouth was pinched tight with determination.

Blair waved her hand toward Neil’s mother. “Debra Fredrick, these are my best friends, Megan McMillan and Libby St. Clair. This is Neil’s mother.”

Megan held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fredrick.”

Debra took her hand, beaming. “What a sweet girl you are.” She looked down at the wedding ring on her hand. “You’re married? That must be why you’re so much more civilized than your friends. I keep hoping marriage will make Blair more domestic.”

Libby coughed and shot Blair a grin. Thank God she’d thought to warn them about her future monster-in-law.

“How long have you been married?” Debra asked.

Megan smiled, but even a blind man could see it was forced. “Two months.”

“Isn’t that precious,” Debra cooed, oblivious to the tension she was creating. “And when are you having babies? Soon, I hope? Maybe you’ll be a positive influence on Blair.”

“Debra,” Blair scolded. “Megan just got married. She’s not in any hurry.”

“We’re going to wait,” Megan said, looking uncomfortable. “We’d like to spend more time together first.”

Debra looked over all three women, her mouth pinched into a disapproving frown. “Aren’t you girls worried about your biological clocks? You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

Libby struggled to keep a straight face. “Maybe I should get Blair her drink before we start planning a joint baby shower.”

Debra shook the cat jar, the coins rattling against the sides. “Pay your dollar first. You too, Blair.”

Libby grinned, trying not to laugh. “I don’t have any money on me, so I’ll just run inside and get some from Noah. I’m sure he’ll appreciate this story.” She snickered. “And I’ll get you a drink you’re guaranteed to like, Blair.”

“Oh!” Debra’s eyes lit up. “Will you get one for me too? Do you have hard water? I’d love a hard lemonade.” She nodded her head with approval. “I had a few last night, and they were so relaxing.”

Libby burst out laughing. After hearing Blair rant about Debra being a teetotaler, she knew the older woman would never knowingly ask for an alcoholic drink. “One hard lemonade coming right up.”

Debra held out her cat. “Blair.”

Groaning, Blair pulled a dollar from the wad of cash in her skirt pocket and stuffed it into the slot. Everything in her screamed in protest, but she’d promised Neil to try her best to keep his mother happy. If she refused to go along with this damn kitty scheme, she was liable to create family drama. And with the partners watching, it was more important than ever to keep the peace. Thank God she’d asked Melissa to get her more dollar bills. She had a feeling the nine dollars she had left in her pockets wouldn’t be enough.

The back door opened again, and a woman who looked remarkably like Garrett walked onto the deck. Debra turned to face the woman, and her face instantly scrunched with irritation. “Hello, Barb. Nice to see you dressed up, but I specifically told you to wear something other than blue and white.” The sarcasm was heavy in her voice.

Barb glanced down at her white eyelet shirt and blue capris, then scanned her sister’s plain blue and white dress. “Some of us choose quality, Debbie Sue. I’m sure that dress came from the Dollar General, while mine came from Target.”

“It’s Debra now,” Neil’s mother snarled. “How many times do I have to tell you that?” Her jaw tightened as she lifted her chin and gave her sister a haughty look. “And besides, I got this dress at Sears.”

“You may call yourself Debra now because you think it’ll help you sell more plastic containers for your Tupperware business, but it doesn’t mean the rest of us have to follow suit. For heaven’s sake, your birth certificate says Debbie Sue.”

Debra’s face turned red, and she looked like she was about to have a heat stroke.

“I wonder where Libby is with that lemonade,” Megan murmured, looking around. “Or where my mother is. Maybe I should go check.”

Blair grabbed her arm as she started to walk away, her nails digging into Megan’s flesh. “Don’t you even think about it.”

Megan laughed, but there was a nervous hitch to it.

Barb shifted her attention toward Blair, and she resisted the urge to squirm under her scrutiny. “So you’re Blair.”

“You know who I am?” she choked out. In the year she and Garrett had dated, she’d never met his mother. They’d talked about going to see Garrett’s family for Christmas, but they’d visited her mother instead. At Garrett’s insistence. He’d claimed it was because his mother and aunt were crazy, but after their breakup, she’d wondered if he’d maybe been ashamed of her.

Megan gave her a concerned glance, and Barb looked at her like she was flat-out crazy. “Well, you are the bride.” She laughed. “Debbie Sue and I may have our differences, but I know about Neil’s fiancée.”

“Oh,” she mumbled, the blood suddenly rushing from her head. She was totally losing it.

“Blair, are you okay?” Megan whispered. “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

“I’m fine.”

Barb seemed oblivious to her distress. Turned out the two sisters weren’t so different after all. “Debbie Sue says you’re a lawyer,” Barb said, glancing around the elaborately decorated yard. “My son Garrett is a lawyer too. What type of law do you do?”

“You mean practice?” Megan asked, sounding uncharacteristically snippy.

Barb waved her hand back and forth. “Whatever.”

Blair’s chest felt like someone was tightening a clamp, a quarter turn at a time, until all the air was squeezed out of her chest. Should she admit that she’d dated Garrett? Pretend she’d only just met him? “I . . . divorce law . . .” She wasn’t sure she could spend the rest of the evening with Garrett’s mother.

“Blair.” Megan sounded more insistent. “Let’s get you something to eat before the party gets started.”

Blair shook her head. “Knickers’ll have a fit if we mess up her display.”

“Let her.” Megan turned to the two sisters, who were currently shooting glares at each other that perfectly punctuated the sharply worded barbs they continued to volley. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to get the bride-to-be something to eat.”

“Of course. We’ll get a chance to chat later,” Barb said, then glanced around the yard, already dismissing the two women. “Where’s Dena? Is she bringing her ill-behaved children with her?”

Debra bristled at her sister’s remark. “Dena will be here soon. The real question is where is Kelsey? Too busy with her poor fatherless baby?”

“And that’s our cue . . .” Megan looped her arm through Blair’s and tugged her toward the food table, casting another worried look in her direction. “When was the last time you ate something?”

“I don’t know. Lunch, I guess, but I didn’t eat very much. Nerves.”

Megan grabbed a pink paper plate and stacked it with a couple of quartered sandwiches and some raw vegetables. “What’s going on, Blair? This is totally unlike you. You’re never affected by nerves.”

“I’m getting married,” Blair said. “I think I’m entitled.”

Megan didn’t say anything as she handed over the plate.

Even Blair knew she was acting like a bitch. “God, I’m sorry, Megs. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I’m taking it out on you.”

“Now I’m really scared if you’re apologizing.” She grinned, but her eyes were full of worry.

Blair took a bite of one of the sandwiches. “This is delicious.”

Megan’s eyes narrowed. “Cut the crap, Blair. It’s not like you to change the subject. You always tell it like it is. What are you hiding?”

The back door banged against the house, and Debra shouted a greeting from the middle of the deck. “Momma, you came! And Dena . . . you brought him with you?” Her voice trailed off.

Great. The infamous Nana Ruby was here.

And so were Dena’s kids.

“I came across him as he was strolling up to the door,” Dena said, speaking in a tight drawl that conveyed her disgust.

Dena was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the way she curled her upper lip when dealing with someone she didn’t like, which not so surprisingly included a great many people. Blair still had her back to the deck, but she was certain Dena’s lip had curled into her trademark sneer, and she was equally certain she knew who’d put it there. She wouldn’t turn around yet. If she kept her back turned, maybe everything would be okay.

The high-pitched screaming of Dena’s children made Blair cringe. “Great. Dena did bring her wonder brats. They’re the most ill-behaved children I’ve ever met, but she thinks they’re absolutely perfect.”

“Blair,” Megan reprimanded. “They’re children.” She eyed them running all around the deck like a set of wild banshees. “They’re bound to have some energy.”

“Ha. We’ll see if you’re still saying that by the end of the evening. Ten dollars says one of them will end up in the pool.”

“Only a fool would take that bet,” a familiar male voice said from behind her. “And I wager you’d push one of them in to make sure you won.”

A chill ran down Blair’s spine. She clenched her fists at her sides, her fingernails digging into her palms. Oh, how she wanted to take in the sight of him, but she knew it would be safer if she kept her back to him while she tried to resuscitate her dying self-control.

Surprise filled Megan’s eyes as she stared at the man behind Blair. “I didn’t know my mother had invited any men to the party.”

“Technically, she didn’t invite any men,” Blair said, wishing Libby would show up with her drink already. Hopefully it would be whiskey. “They just keep dropping in.”

“Like that song about raining men.” He laughed, a rich warm sound that sent a fire racing through her blood. “That sounds like a single woman’s dream come true.”

“No,” she said, slowly spinning to face him, glad her anger had kicked into gear. It made it easier for her to fight her reaction to him. “Change it to women, and it sounds like your dream come true. Player.” The word was jagged and sharp, like a weapon, but she needed the reminder.

He looked even more gorgeous than he had this afternoon. He’d changed into a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips, making her imagination run wild, and a blue button-down shirt. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a smattering of hair on his chest, and his long sleeves were rolled up, showing her that his forearms were just as built as they’d been when they dated.

Her body was about to combust.

“Blair,” Megan said, jolting her back to reality. “I take it you know him?” Of course Megan hadn’t met him. She’d run off to Seattle by then, running away from her mother.

So Libby hadn’t squealed. She’d love to run away and hide from this, but running had never been her style. No need to start now. “Megan McMillan. Meet Garrett Lowry. My ex-boyfriend.”

Chapter Thirteen

The moment Garrett stepped onto the deck, his eyes instantly found Blair. Her back was to him, but he had no doubt it was her. He ignored the chaos his aunt and mother were creating while Nana watched with narrowed eyes. As far as he was concerned, he’d fulfilled his duty by escorting Nana to the party.

Common sense told him that pursuing Blair at her own wedding shower was a bad idea, yet he was as drawn to her as a plant was to sunlight. She’d changed into a simple peach dress and a pair of white sandals, and her hair hung down her back in loose waves.

The pretty brunette next to Blair watched him closely as he approached, probably wondering why there was a man at a wedding shower. Blair was talking about his cousin’s bratty children, so he decided to lead with a joke about her pushing one of Dena’s kids into the pool.

Smooth, Garrett.

Instead of stomping off, she introduced him to her friend Megan. The way she did it insinuated she didn’t want him there, but he noticed a couple of things, both in his favor. One, the way she moved a little bit closer when she turned to him, as if she felt as helplessly drawn to him as he did her, and two, her eyes had turned that enthralling shade of sky blue.

But he was struggling to stay focused on the conversation. She was gorgeous in peach. It brought out the color in her pale skin and made her eyes even bluer.

He could tell her friend—Megan—had already heard about him, not that he was surprised. Blair had told him plenty about her two best friends. “Garrett from law school?” the woman gasped.

Blair’s lips pinched as she slightly stuck out her leg and crossed her arms. “The one and the same.”

Megan lowered her voice to a hiss. “What’s he doing here?”

“Stirring up shit. What he does best.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Garrett said. Her words didn’t faze him—he knew that every second she continued to talk to him was a second in his favor. “I’m here because Nana insisted I bring her to the shower. You know me, Blair. The last thing I would choose to do with my night is play what’s in your purse with a bunch of women.”

“The fact you know a shower game is a bit frightening.”

He shrugged. “I’m a wealth of information.”

A sardonic smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Looks like you’ve done your duty. I’m sure you’re free to leave.”

He shook his head and gave her a smug grin. “No can do. Nana says she owns me for the night.” He scanned the food table. “Got anything to drink besides that pink punch on the table? Is it spiked? I think we’re all gonna need it if we’re going to endure a couple of hours with my mother and my aunt.”

He glanced over his shoulder at the argument still raging behind him. The hostess was probably regretting throwing this party right about now. Or at least inviting those two.

“You still haven’t explained how he ended up here,” Megan said, addressing them both.

Blair sighed, rolling her eyes. “It’s actually very convoluted.”

“Oh!” a woman exclaimed from behind him. “I arrived just in time. I love convoluted stories.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed, and if possible, she tensed up even more. “You already know the story, Libby.”

The woman came to a stop at his side and handed Blair a red plastic cup. “I had to sneak that out of the house. The red clashes with Knickers’ party colors, and I’m pretty sure whiskey doesn’t fit in with the food theme.”

“God bless you.” Blair snatched the cup and took a generous sip.

And this was another sign in his favor. Blair had never needed a crutch to get through adversity—hell, she thrived on it—but now she was acting like she needed alcohol to get through the evening. Sure, Libby had left to get her a drink before he arrived, but he knew it wasn’t his argumentative and judgmental relatives who were affecting her.

Blair only relied on alcohol when she was scared.

His relatives wouldn’t scare her. Not Blair. He suspected she’d tolerated his aunt the evening before in an attempt at compromise. Something else scared her, and God help him, he hoped she was scared of what she felt when she was close to him.

“I also gave Neil’s mother her lemonade. I know there’s a story there, which I’m dying to hear, but this one gets my attention first.” The black-haired beauty turned her dark chocolate eyes on him, looking him up and down like he was an amusing street corner act.

He would have known this newcomer was Blair’s other best friend even if she hadn’t been identified by name. Blair had always told him that men were drawn to Libby’s exotic beauty and vivacious personality, so he kept his attention on Blair, smiling at her as though she were the only woman in the world. After all, as far as he was concerned, it was true.

“Aunt Debra is a fundamentalist teetotaler, and I suspect last night was her first encounter with alcohol, even if she didn’t realize it,” he explained. “It will be interesting to see if she gets as loopy as she did last night.”

“I still don’t know why you’re here.” Megan stared at him and planted her hands on her hips. “Somebody better start talking.”

Blair gave him her iciest glare, but he grinned, undeterred. “I’m Neil’s cousin.”

“What?” Megan gasped, then tilted her head as she turned her attention to Libby. “Why don’t you look just as surprised as I do?”

Libby shrugged, looking like a kid with a big secret.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Blair groaned. “Now is not the time to get jealous of who knew what when. The important part is that Garrett has weaseled his way into our wedding and is now a groomsman.”

Libby tapped her foot, wearing a smug expression. “He’s also claimed the ring on her hand.”

“What?” Megan gasped loud enough to draw the attention of some of the newly arrived shower attendees.

“I don’t have time to deal with this.” Blair took another healthy sip of her whiskey, then lowered the cup and shuddered, as though trying to lodge the practical, no-nonsense part of herself back into place. “It’s a family ring. Garrett has claimed it belongs to him. His grandmother is supposed to sort it out.” She took a deep breath and glanced down into her cup. “I suppose I’d better go meet her and break up the scuffle over who wore it best.” She started to hand her cup to Libby, then hesitated and took another gulp before relinquishing it. “Hide this.”

“I’m going to exchange the waffle iron I got you for your wedding for a flask,” Libby teased.

Blair started to walk away, then turned around and pointed her finger at Libby. “You better not have gotten me a waffle iron.”

Libby burst out laughing as Blair swung back around and started across the patio. Garrett was about to take off in pursuit, but Libby blocked his path. “I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Garrett said, lowering his voice, “I know you want to grill me, and I promise to answer any questions either of you throw at me—later.” He glanced over at Megan and nodded. “But right now I need to get over there and try to defuse a pending nuclear war.”

Libby studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him. “Fine. But I get to read your palm later.”

Megan snorted.

“What?” He shook his head, sure he’d heard her wrong. “Sure. Whatever.” Garrett would have agreed to anything so long as she willingly let him go. If they were still her best friends—and the way they hovered around her assured him they were—he knew they had influence over her. He was desperate enough to recognize he needed all the help he could get. “Done.”

Libby made a shooing motion toward him. “Go.”

He hurried after Blair, ignoring the adversarial conversation between the two sisters. He reached her just as she stopped in front of his grandmother.

“Nana,” he said, as she stuck out her hand to the elderly woman. “This is Blair Myers Hansen. Blair, this is Nana Ruby. The true instigator of all the trouble in this family.” He winked at the older woman. “She taught me everything I know.”

Blair shot him an irritated glare before returning her attention to his nana, who cracked a grin.

“So you’re the bride everyone is making such a fuss about.” She looked Blair over.

Blair bristled, and her eyes turned frosty. “I need this wedding to go off without a hitch, so let’s get this ring issue sorted out as quickly as possible. And if we need to replace the ring before the ceremony, I’d prefer to know sooner rather than later.”

Nana laughed, and Garrett was surprised to hear it was genuine. Blair gave her a look of uncertainty.

“You’re not what I expected,” Nana said once she’d settled down.

“And what did you expect?”

“Some hoity-toity, dainty woman who thinks the world revolves around her.”

“Is that how Neil painted me?”

Rather than answer, she gave Garrett an inscrutable glance. “I like you,” she said, turning back toward Blair. “Do you want the ring?”

Blair blinked in surprise. “I . . .” She swallowed. “It’s Neil’s.”

But not hers. Garrett was certain his grandmother had picked up on her peculiar wording too, because she studied Blair for several moments. “I haven’t decided that yet.”

Blair groaned. “Why does this family have to be so difficult?”

As if to punctuate her statement, the argument between Nana Ruby’s two daughters rose in pitch. Nicole Vandemeer, the woman who had greeted Garrett and Nana at the door, was standing between the women trying to get them to reach a truce. Her eyes were wild with frustration.

Nana put two fingers in her mouth and released a loud whistle that filled the air and stopped everyone mid-word or mid-movement. “That’s enough nonsense, Debbie Sue and Barbara Mae,” Nana shouted. “I raised ya better than that. You’re guests here.” She waved to Nicole. “You get on with what you need to do, Mrs. Vandemeer.”

“It’s Debra,” his aunt grumbled.

Nicole smoothed back her hair and took a deep breath. “Oh, dear. Why doesn’t everyone help themselves to some refreshments, and then we’ll start the games.”

Nana hobbled over to the food table, muttering about needing a Coors, and everyone else followed, leaving Blair alone with him on the deck.

“Games?” Blair groaned under her breath. “Shit.”

Garrett chuckled. “How bad could it be?”

She gave him a baffled look, as if he’d just claimed to be a Martian. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“I told you, Nana Ruby made me come.”

“So why don’t you go inside with the men?”

“What men?” A shot of worry worked through his veins. Was Neil here after all?

She groaned. “Megan’s dad and her husband Josh. And for some reason, Noah, Josh’s brother, came along. He follows Libby around everywhere she goes, even though she has a—” Letting the sentence break off, she shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t know why I’m telling you anything.”

“If you’re marrying Neil, that means we’ll be seeing each other at family functions. That typically involves small talk.” He hadn’t considered it before, but it was true. If he did lose her to Neil, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sit around making small talk with her on Thanksgiving.

“I don’t have time to small talk with you. I need to socialize.” Yet she didn’t move from her spot. Not that he was surprised. She had always hated this kind of thing.

“This doesn’t seem like you, Blair. A wedding shower? We used to make fun of this shit,” he teased.

She released a long sigh. “I tried to get out of it, but Knickers is relentless.”

He laughed. “Knickers?”

“Nicole. Megan’s mom. We nicknamed her Knickers back when we were kids.” She glared at him. “But she doesn’t know, so don’t you dare call her that.”

He grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” She scanned the twenty people covering the patio. “We’re grown-ups now, and apparently this sort of thing goes with the territory.”

“And your wedding? It’s not at a courthouse like you always said you wanted. Nana said it’s going to be in a big fancy church.”

“You should have gotten an invitation with all the details,” Blair said. “Debra insisted on inviting everyone she knew to the wedding of her doctor son and his lawyer fiancée.”

He cringed. “I saw Neil’s name on the invite and tossed it into the trash before reading anything else. Including your name.” He worried about delving into dangerous water, but nothing risked, nothing gained. “You really didn’t realize it was me when you sent it out?”

“I didn’t address them. My now-absentee wedding planner did. Debra sent her a very long list, which I didn’t really inspect.”

“So a big, fancy wedding, huh?”

She stiffened slightly. “The partners expect it.”

To anyone else, it might have gone unnoticed, but to him that statement filled in a missing puzzle piece.

“Blair!” a young woman called out as she came through the back door carrying a small pink box topped with a large white ribbon. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Blair smiled, but Garrett could see it was forced. “Ashley. I think it was our five-year reunion.”

Ashley gave Garrett a thorough once-over and beamed. “It looks like you’ve done very well for yourself. You two make a striking couple. I wholeheartedly approve.”

“What?” Blair asked in confusion that quickly turned to alarm. “Oh, no. This is Garrett Lowry. The cousin of the groom. Neil isn’t here.”

“Oh, that’s unusual.” Ashley’s mouth twisted. “And unfortunate. Unless the groom is even better looking.” She winked.

Blair glanced down at her friends. “Libby and Megan are over there. You should go say hi.”

Garrett leaned into her ear and whispered, “She thinks we look good together.”

Blair turned her head to look up at him, her mouth closer to his than seemed appropriate. Conflict raged in her eyes before they hardened. “A relationship needs to be based on far more than looks.”

God, it was hard to be this close to her without touching her, but he was sure she’d bolt if he did, not to mention the whole issue of this being her wedding shower for her marriage to another man. “I agree. But I think there’s more to it than compatibility.”

“You mean sex?” she asked. It was obvious she was trying to sound disgusted, but her words came out breathless at the end.

Jesus, from the way her eyes dilated, he could tell she was thinking about them in bed. He had to steer the conversation in a different direction soon, or he’d embarrass himself. He shifted his weight slightly. “Well, yeah, amazing sex is a given, right?”

“Not necessarily.”

He was tempted to let her statement pass, but he just couldn’t. “I suppose that could be true for people who aren’t very sexual, but some people have a natural fire, don’t you think?” Then, before she could counter, he shifted the topic. “But I didn’t just mean sex, anyway. There are other important considerations in a relationship.”

“Like what?” she asked without sarcasm.

He forced himself to rein in his hope. “The two people should know each other’s hopes and dreams. The little things that make each other happy. They should share inside jokes and secrets. And love.” He tacked it onto the end, making it sound like an afterthought.

“Love,” she scoffed.

“Of course love.” He kept his tone light. “Love is the foundation on which the entire relationship is built. A relationship is nothing without love.”

Sadness flooded her eyes, and she looked close to crying for a moment. Then her body stiffened. “I think we need ice.” And with that, she bolted for the back door.

He considered letting her go. He’d clearly struck a nerve, and he didn’t want to agitate her too much at a party that was being held in her honor. But time was running out, and now that he’d peeled back a section of her protective layer, he needed to keep digging if he hoped to get through to her.

He went through the back door and found her in front of the sink holding onto the counter, panic in her eyes.

“What do you know about love, Garrett Lowry?” she said, looking at the side yard through the window. “You found our love so disposable you were willing to toss it aside to sleep with someone the very next night.”

He gave up all pretense of playing it cool and spanned the room in four footsteps to stand at her side. “I didn’t sleep with her, Blair. I swear to God. I was an idiot the night I walked out and an even bigger idiot when I got so drunk with my buddy that I couldn’t drive. I let Jody take me home.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He held out his hands. “Why would I lie now? Why not just own up to it? I won’t deny I slept with quite a few women afterward, so why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked.

Time to go for broke. “I’ve spent five years regretting both of those nights. If I could give up everything I’ve achieved in the last five years to go back and live that first night over again, I’d do it.”

She shot him a look of indecision.

“I was too stupid to see that you were lashing out because something had happened. I’d gotten a bad grade on my paper—the one I’d worked on relentlessly for two weeks—and I was mad and upset. All the way to your apartment I kept thinking about how much I wanted to see you. I knew you’d help me put everything in perspective. Then I walked in, and you got pissed because I hadn’t picked up laundry detergent for you, and the next thing I knew we were both yelling, and before I could even process what was going on, I’d packed my things and left.”

“I didn’t know,” she whispered as she turned to face him.

They were inches apart, and without thinking, he reached for her face and cupped her cheek. “And I didn’t know about your dad. Oh, God, Blair. You have no idea how devastated I was when I heard.”

She closed her eyes and leaned into his palm.

He wrapped his other hand around her back and slowly pulled her to his chest. “Nothing happened with Jody. I swear to you. She brought me home. I stumbled inside my apartment, and before I knew what happened, she kissed me and then stripped off her clothes before I pushed her away.”

“How can I believe you?”

“If I wanted to break up with you, why would I have run after you? Why would I have stood outside your door half the night, begging you to let me explain?” His thumb stroked her jaw, and he couldn’t believe she was in his arms again. Could it be this easy? “I was crushed, Blair. I didn’t have a clue how much I really loved you until I lost you. I had this gaping hole in my heart. I knew you’d never give me another chance, so I tried to find other ways to fill it. But no one ever came close to you.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him with such longing it stole his breath.

“I love you, Blair. I never stopped loving you.”

She lifted her hand behind his neck and kissed him, her lips soft on his, hesitant. His tongue slid along her lower lip, and her mouth parted. Her grip on his neck tightened, and her tongue joined his as she dropped her guard and lost herself to the moment.

The fire that swept through his body caught him by surprise, and he pulled her closer, his hand sliding from the small of her back down to her ass and pulling her against his pelvis.

She groaned, and he felt her free hand grabbing his own ass, pulling him closer.

The sound of a doorbell barely registered in his head, but the voice he heard several seconds later sent ice water through his blood.

Neil was at the front door.

Chapter Fourteen

What the hell had she done?

She heard Neil at the front door. “Hey, Josh. I didn’t know you were here,” he said. “I thought I’d crash the party.”

Shit.

Blair froze in Garrett’s arms and tried to jerk away from him, but he held her tight.

Josh answered, “Bart invited me over to hang out in the basement and watch a game. He was feeling outnumbered. Noah’s here too.”

Panic flooded her, and she pulled against Garrett’s vise-like grip. “Let me go!” She couldn’t let Neil find her like this. Oh, God. What had she done?

He dropped his hold, and worry filled Garrett’s eyes as she took several steps backward.

“You have to break off this wedding, Blair,” he insisted in a whisper. “Tell him when he comes in. We can tell him together.”

Lifting a hand to her temple, she shook her head. “This is all happening too fast. I have to think.” She couldn’t just throw away a two-year relationship over a hot kiss—and from a man who’d slept with half the women in law school after their breakup. This was ridiculous. She was getting married in three days.

But her panic increased, stealing her breath. How could she face Neil after what she’d just done?

“They’re out back,” Josh said, and moments later, Neil stood in the doorway with Megan’s husband.

“Oh, hey, Blair,” Josh said in surprise. “I didn’t know you were in here. Look who just turned up.”

Neil surveyed the both of them. He smiled, but his eyes were cold as his gaze swung from her to Garrett and back.

“What are you doing here?” Blair asked, placing her hands on the kitchen island to steady herself, her peripheral vision darkening. She wasn’t a fainting kind of girl, but the situation seemed to warrant it.

Neil’s eyes pinned hers. “Funny, I was wondering what Garrett was doing here.”

Garrett gave him a lazy grin. “Nana made me come with her.”

“So I see all the guys are here,” Neil said, his jaw tightening. “Why didn’t you ask me to come, darling?”

She knew that look. He was pissed.

Suddenly Noah appeared behind Josh. “Bart needs another beer,” he said, slapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. His eyes widened as soon as he sensed the tension in the kitchen. “Whoa.”

“Noah, how about you go out back and grab Megan for me.” Josh tried to sound casual, but no one in the room was fooled. “Hey, Neil,” he said. “There wasn’t any mal-intent here. Bart invited me and Noah today, and Garrett’s grandmother insisted that he come.”

“She’s my grandmother too.” Neil’s voice was tight. He walked around the island toward Blair.

Several feet now separated her and Garrett, but she could still feel him tense up.

Neil stopped next to her, leaving a foot between them. “Where’s my kiss hello, darling?” He wrapped an arm around her back and leaned down to kiss her, but she couldn’t bear to kiss him after the way she’d just thrown herself at Garrett. She turned her head at the last moment, and his mouth skimmed the corner of her mouth.

“It wasn’t intentional, Neil,” she said, trying to keep it together. “Why did you stop by?”

“I was missing you, of course.”

Her gaze shot up to him in surprise. That was a bald-faced lie. He rarely told her he missed her, and even then, it was only after a separation of multiple days. But he took the opportunity to plant a lingering kiss on her lips. His mouth felt rough and possessive against hers, as if he were staking his claim. She resisted the urge to pull away, and part of her wondered why she even felt that urge. Was it because his kiss left her cold compared to Garrett’s fire? Or was it out of guilt?

“Is my cousin bothering you?” Neil murmured after he lifted his head, still looking down into her eyes.

Her face burned under his scrutiny.

“I can have him kicked out. I am the groom.”

Garrett crossed his arms over his chest. “I thought you had other plans tonight, Neil.”

Neil’s nostrils flared, and some unnamable emotion glowed in his eyes. Oh, God. He either knew or suspected she’d behaved inappropriately with Garrett. “My plans fell through. Besides, I know where my true priorities lie.”

“Funny how quickly they’ve changed. What spurred that?”

Blair glanced from one of them to the other, trying to understand their secret exchange, but the room was spinning and she could hardly stand, let alone form a rational thought.

Garrett took a step toward them, his hands fisted at his sides. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. There’s something we need to tell you.”

Neil’s eyebrows rose. “We?” Then he looked down at her, demanding an answer.

She pulled free of his hold and took a deep breath. In her office and in the courtroom, she was the epitome of confidence and control. Where was that woman now? But everything felt jumbled and out of sorts in her head. For the first time in her life, she literally had no idea what to do. “I . . .”

The back door opened, and Libby and Megan hurried through, worry in their eyes. Noah trailed behind them. “Blair, there you are,” Megan said, rushing over to her. “It’s time to open presents.”

Libby intercepted Garrett. “I think you two should hang out with the guys. What do you think, Noah?”

“Yeah.” Noah nodded. “There’s a Royals game on.”

“Sure, he should join you,” Neil said, his anger unmistakable. “But I’ll be staying with my fiancée.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Megan smiled, but it was forced. “It’s girls only, Neil.”

His jaw tightened. “If Nana insisted that Garrett come, I’m sure she’d want her other grandson here too.”

Megan looked from Neil to Josh, her eyes wide.

Some of Blair’s senses began to return, and she realized she had to get things under control. “Megan’s right, Neil.” She looked up at her fiancé. “There’s a whole bunch of women out there along with your sister’s two kids. But if you’d rather come outside and play stupid shower games, then by all means, feel free.”

“Blair.” The disbelief in Garrett’s voice sent a stab of pain through her chest, but it wasn’t enough to get her to react. She couldn’t do this right now. She couldn’t spontaneously make a decision that would affect the rest of her life. Not when the future of her job depended on this wedding. The very fact that she was prepared to consider calling it off after one mere kiss scared the shit out of her.

She let Megan lead her outside and was surprised to see that everyone was sitting at the small tables around the pool now, eating and drinking. Presents and cards covered a small table to the side of the food table.

“Blair’s going to open gifts now,” Megan announced as her shoes clacked across the patio.

Knickers was shifting the food around on the platters, but she bolted upright at Megan’s declaration. “The presents aren’t until after the games.”

Megan released her hold on Blair and pulled a chair over to the presents table. “The schedule’s changed. She’s opening them now.”

“Neil!” Debra squealed as she glanced up and saw her son trailing behind the two women. She shot out of her seat and nearly tripped on the chair leg. “Thank goodness you’re finally here.”

Blair wanted to kill the woman. She was obviously the reason Neil had shown up. She hadn’t been able to accept the fact that Garrett was present and Neil wasn’t. She was the reason Neil had almost caught her in a compromising situation. But that wasn’t really true, and she knew it.

Blair was a cheater. And she wasn’t sure she could live with that title.

To make matters worse, that damn kiss kept replaying over and over in her head, and try as she might, she couldn’t banish it to the dungeon with all the other thoughts and feelings that had threatened to consume her over the last ten years since her father had abandoned her mother. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the last ten minutes, trying to sort through the mess of emotion. Give her facts and she could cut through them like a world-renowned surgeon with a scalpel. But feelings?

Did Garrett really still love her? And if so, what did it mean?

All she could process at the moment was that her world was toppling over like a tower of blocks, and she had no idea how to stop it.

Nana Ruby’s eyes narrowed as she glanced up at her grandson. “What are you doing here? Where’s Garrett?”

Neil slid next to Blair. When he spoke, his voice was tight. “He’s in the house. Where he belongs.” He wrapped an arm around Blair’s waist and pulled her hip against hers. “I’m here to open presents with my bride.” He leaned over and kissed her again, setting off a round of oohs and awws from the gathered audience. Blair just stood next to him, still in shock. He was showing more public displays of affection than usual, which was throwing her off almost as much as everything else that was going awry in her life.

“Garrett’s here somewhere,” Debra said, trying to untangle herself from a purse handle.

“I know,” he said coolly as his hand dug tighter into her hip. It was meant to show her that he was still there—seething but still there. She found it suffocating.

“Garrett’s in the house drinking a beer with Noah,” Josh said, walking up behind Neil. “Not to worry. He’s still here.”

Blair shot him a look, surprised by his confrontational tone.

“Debbie Sue,” Nana barked. “Sit down before you fall into the pool.”

Debra began to giggle, and Dena gave her a strange look before turning her attention to her restless children.

Clearly determined to single-handedly defuse the situation, Megan walked over and grabbed Blair’s wrist. “Present time,” she said, pulling Blair away from Neil and leading her over to the chair she’d set out.

When Neil started to drag a chair over to her, Megan held up her hand.

“Oh, no. You get to sit with all the other women.”

Josh dragged over two chairs and pointed to one of them. “Here you go, buddy.”

“But they’re my presents too. Don’t I get to help open them?” He flashed a charming smile to the gathered women.

“That’s not how showers work,” Josh said, pushing Neil into the chair. “It’s all about the woman. You wouldn’t want to steal Blair’s limelight, would you? You want her to be happy, don’t you?” The questions were barbed enough to surprise Neil into compliance. He sat down; Josh sat next to him.

“Isn’t that sweet?” one of Blair’s former high school classmates asked. She couldn’t even remember the woman’s name. Why had she been invited? Then again, this was Knickers’s party, not hers, so it made sense that Megan’s mother had invited the most perfect, and perfectly coiffed, people she knew—excluding Neil’s family, of course. Ordinarily, Blair would stand at the periphery and laugh at a spectacle like this, but she was stuck firmly in the middle of it, along with her confusion over Garrett and how to handle Neil, and she wasn’t laughing at all. Her brain was currently too stunned to process anything.

She was completely out of her perfectly organized comfort zone.

What was perhaps most startling of all was Megan’s behavior. While Blair had always been the natural leader of the trio, Megan was the take-charge girl in a crisis, and she was clearly in disaster recovery mode at the moment. What had Noah said to make her take control? Had her . . . indiscretion with Garrett been so obvious that everyone could tell? She was about to die of embarrassment, an emotion she found strangling.

She looked up at Megan with pleading eyes. “I don’t think I can do this, Megs,” she whispered. The quiver in her own voice frightened her.

Megan squatted a few inches. “You can. And you will. If we cancel the party, it’s going to raise red flags. We’ll get through it as quickly as possible, and then we’ll figure everything out. Okay?” The understanding and love in her friend’s eyes was probably the only thing that could have soothed her. She found herself nodding like a puppet whose strings had been pulled. The thought of being weak and malleable provided a spark of anger. She was familiar with anger. Anger was an old friend who’d kept her company more than half her life. Anger she could use. She grabbed hold and held tight before it slipped under the current of her other emotions.

Megan watched her face, then slowly shook her head and whispered, “Don’t you dare lash out at people, Blair. You’ll only make things worse. Libby and I are going to get you through the next hour—then when we’re alone, you can call the two of us every nasty name you have tucked in a file in your brain.” She smiled. “Trust me. Okay?”

Placing her trust in another person felt unnatural to her, and she could honestly say she never had. Not even with Garrett all those years ago. But she was drowning, and Megan was offering her a lifeline. Megan and Libby had been her best friends since kindergarten. They loved her and would do everything in their power to help her.

As if sensing her thoughts—and her need—Libby came out the back door, her face a study in determination. She’d gone into defense mode too. Yes, it was time to rely on her friends. After all, if she couldn’t trust her two best friends, who could she trust?

“Okay.”

Megan’s eyes softened. “Thank you.” Then she grabbed a gift bag off the table and handed it to Blair. “Mom, do you want to keep the list of gifts?”

Megan’s mother glanced around, looking even more flustered when she realized the party-goers were watching Blair in silent curiosity. “But I need to get the board to make her bow bouquet.”

“Bow bouquet?” Blair asked in alarm.

“No bow bouquet,” Megan said, picking up a pad of paper and a pen from the gift table. “Start writing.”

Blair went out of her way to avoid showers of any kind, but it didn’t take a fool to realize the present opening was proceeding at a much faster clip than it did at most parties. She knew she had her friends to thank for that. As soon as Blair opened the last gift—a twenty-dollar Target gift card from the high school friend she couldn’t remember—Knickers looked up at the group and beamed.

“Time for games!”

Shoot me now.

Chapter Fifteen

Garrett watched in shock as Blair walked out the door and returned to her wedding shower, leaving him standing there.

“We need to chat,” Libby said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the breakfast table.

He resisted her tug. “No. I need to get out there.”

“Hey, Libs. I’ve got this.” Noah clapped a hand on Garrett’s shoulder. “Why don’t we go outside for a minute?”

“I don’t think so,” he said through gritted teeth and took a step toward the back door. He had to put a stop to this.

Noah blocked his path. “Trust me, dude. If you want the girl, you don’t want to do this right now.”

Garrett blinked in surprise.

Noah smirked. “It’s not that obvious to anyone else . . . yet. But if you go over there now, everyone in the whole damn party will know. And that’s not how you want this to play out. And I know that’s not how Blair wants it to play out.” He grabbed two beer bottles out of the refrigerator, then motioned to the door to the living room. “Come on.”

Garrett studied both of them, unsure of their motives, but his mind was spinning too fast for him to think clearly.

“Do you still care about her?” Libby demanded, hands on her hips.

“What?” He blinked. So much was happening at once, he wasn’t sure he should answer. He felt like any hope of getting Blair back had just been yanked out from under him.

Josh, who’d been standing at the periphery of the room for most of the last five minutes, stared out one of the back windows, his jaw tight. “I don’t trust that prick, and I don’t want him out there with my wife.” Then he stomped out the door.

Garrett could only presume the prick was Neil, which eased some of the tension from his shoulders.

Without warning, Libby snatched Garrett’s right hand and pulled it closer, her thumb brushing his fingers open.

He considered pulling free until he remembered her earlier demand to read his palm.

Her index finger traced his hand, following lines for several seconds until she looked up into his face. “When you love, you love for keeps. Is she the one?”

Noah chuckled as his brother disappeared out the door. “Libby, just look at him and you’ve got your answer. Let me handle this.”

She studied him for another second before dropping his hand. “Okay.”

With a grin, Noah handed one of the beer bottles to Garrett. “Libs, go out and keep an eye on things—Josh included. This might take a little bit, but come get me if you need me.”

Libby gave them both a once-over, then pointed a finger in Noah’s face. “You better not screw this up.”

He laughed, completely unthreatened, then clapped an arm around Garrett’s shoulders and led him through the living room and out the front door.

“This some elaborate ploy to kick me out?” Garrett asked, half-joking.

“Nah. Josh and I could have easily kicked your ass out the door. We wouldn’t need a ploy.” He settled onto the top step and opened his bottle, then took a long drag.

Garrett sat next to him, putting his hands behind his head. He wasn’t sure what Noah’s purpose actually was. He had one, Garrett was sure of that, but he wasn’t about to let down his guard. Now that Blair had kissed him with that same fiery passion he remembered, he wasn’t backing down. Not a chance in hell.

Noah leaned his elbows on his knees and tilted his head to look at him. “So you love her, huh?”

Was it so obvious? “Yeah.”

“Do you think she loves you?”

Garrett didn’t answer, sorting through his thoughts. From the way she’d kissed him back, he thought there was a definite possibility. But she’d walked out on him no more than a couple of minutes later. “I don’t know. This morning I would have said no. I broke her heart five years ago. I definitely don’t deserve her. But now . . .”

“Hey, who does deserve the love of a good woman?” Noah asked, but it sounded self-deprecating. “But it doesn’t mean you should give up. Otherwise hardly anyone would get married. So what are you going to do about it?”

Garrett sighed and ran a hand over his head. “My sister told me to show her I’m not an ass anymore, but I’m under a tight deadline here. That plan might work if I had a month or two. So I tried to apologize to her in the kitchen . . .” He wasn’t sure he should confess that she kissed him first. He knew her, and he suspected she was in agony over the thought that she’d just cheated on Neil. “I know she still feels something for me.”

“You need to step up your game, dude.”

Garrett took a long sip of his beer and lowered the bottle. “I think I may have just pushed her away.”

They sat in silence for a minute before Noah said, “I don’t know Blair very well, but I know she likes to act like a hard ass. From what Libby says, she resists letting anyone get close to her.”

Garrett shook his head. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.”

“Okay then, Mr. Know It All. How do you get to her?”

He groaned. “Persistence. Patience. Things I don’t have time for.” He motioned to the house behind him. “She’s out there opening wedding gifts with my asshole cousin.” Should he give up? Let her go? But he knew she wasn’t happy with Neil, and said asshole was cheating on her. He just had to make her realize he really loved her, and he’d do his damnedest never to hurt her again.

Noah’s brow lowered in concentration as he stared out into the street. “So what you need is an accelerated plan. Sometimes a chemical reaction speeds up when heat is applied.”

Garrett’s eyes widened.

Noah chuckled. “I’m an engineer, and contrary to what my younger brother thinks, I did pay attention in a few of my college courses.”

“Heat, huh?” He might be right, but he still needed a plan.

“Are you going to their party tomorrow night?”

“Yeah. Nana’s insisted that I attend all of the wedding functions, but I would have been there anyway. I’m going to take every opportunity I can to see her. In fact, we have a deposition together tomorrow.”

“We’ll come up with something by the party. Just keep trying to charm her in the meantime.”

Noah was being a little too friendly—why was this total stranger so gung-ho to lend his assistance? “Why are you helping me? We’re plotting to break up a wedding.”

He grinned. “Instigating trouble is something I’m good at, and Libby’s a perfect partner in crime. The two of us made sure Josh and Megan were officially married, and if we managed to do that, we can definitely break up Blair and Neil’s wedding.”

Garrett’s hand tightened around his beer bottle. “So this is all some game to you?” His voice rose with his anger.

Noah shook his head. “Hell, no. I’m doing it because there’s no way she’s happy with that dickhead.”

Garrett’s gaze jerked up to his. “How do you know?”

“I spent time with them a couple of months ago at Josh’s wedding. The guy’s a total douchebag. Blair might come across as a bitch—no offense, dude—”

He shrugged. He knew how she came across. “None taken.”

“—but she doesn’t seem like the type to tolerate a guy like him for very long.”

Garrett took a long drink. “And yet she has . . . she is.” Could their arrangement be as practical as Neil had suggested?

“Look, I don’t know you, man, but I saw my brother with Megan in June. When he thought he was going to lose her, he was totally messed up. I can’t imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t taken a chance.” He paused, twisting the bottle in his hand. “If you love her, win her over. You still have a couple of days, and the two of you have history. Josh had less than that with Megan. Hell, the two of them met on the plane on her way to her wedding.” He flashed a grin. “But I bet beating the crap out of Blair’s fiancé in front of her friends isn’t going to win you any favors. Not with a pistol like her.” He laughed at the surprise on Garrett’s face. “Yeah, it was pretty easy to see your intention.”

Garrett grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Noah’s smile widened, and he held out his hands. “Why can’t more people see that?”

His grin morphed into a laugh. “Won’t your girlfriend be looking for you soon?”

Noah took sip of his beer, then lowered his bottle. “Libby’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.”

Garrett studied him for a moment. Given the way those two acted around each other, he was pretty sure Noah might need a straight talk of his own.

“Libby’s worried about her and would do anything to protect her. That’s why she and Megan were so quick to jump in when Neil showed up.”

That got Garrett’s attention. “Blair’s not the type to tolerate people hovering and taking care of her. She’s too independent for that. I can’t believe she let Megan drag her off like that.”

“Blair hasn’t been acting like herself lately, and like I said, they’re worried about her. They think she’s making a mistake but is too scared to admit it. If they push too hard, she’ll do it anyway just to prove them wrong.”

Garrett suspected they were right.

“I’m sure the way Neil was acting in the kitchen hasn’t done much to set them at ease.” Noah drained his bottle, then stood. “Let’s go out there and keep an eye on the douchebag. Libby doesn’t trust him, and neither do I.”

Though the last thing he wanted to do was watch Neil parade around with Blair, he forced himself to rise from the stoop. If he truly wanted a chance with her, what choice did he have? Maybe it was time to tell her that Neil was cheating on her. Perhaps it would ease the guilt she was sure to be feeling. But he worried it would harden her heart against love even more, or worse, she’d accuse him of lying about her worst fear in a desperate attempt to win her back.

He’d sit on the information and hope he could win her over his way. He only hoped his way didn’t take too long.

Chapter Sixteen

Blair didn’t have a lot of experience with showers, but this had to be the strangest one she’d ever attended. After the gifts, Knickers divided the attendees into three teams and set them to work draping one team member with toilet paper in an attempt to create a wedding dress.

Knickers insisted that if Josh and Neil were going to sit in on the shower, they had to join a team. So Josh was sent to Megan and Libby’s group with a couple of other partygoers, and Neil joined forces with his mother and sister and a few others. Of course, Neil’s mother decided it would be cute if Neil was the bride, and soon he was draped in long ribbons of paper. He shot a grin at Blair, who was waiting by the food table. Her job was to judge at the end. She was sure his amusement was supposed to give her warm fuzzies or fill her with reassurance after the kitchen debacle, but all she felt was disgust, directed at both Neil and herself.

Libby was the model for their group, and Megan and the others wasted no time before slapping toilet paper on her in a haphazard manner.

Dena’s kids were out in the yard, each with a roll of toilet paper, throwing streamers up into the trees. Knickers watched in dismay, gnawing on a knuckle. “Oh, dear.”

The back door burst open, and Megan’s grandmother let out a shout. “Ho, boy! You’re playing dress-up. I wanna play.” She was dressed in a hot pink bowling shirt, paired with silver sparkly leggings and orthopedic shoes. Her gray hair was accented with pink streaks, and her arms were wrapped around a present wrapped in purple paper. She set the gift on the presents table and hurried over. “Is the theme Vegas-style weddings? I want to be the bride.” She started to lift up her shirt.

Knickers cringed. “Mother, stop! There are children present.”

Her mother looked taken aback. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Several people laughed, much to Knickers’s chagrin.

“You can be on our team, Gram,” Libby said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer. “Where have you been? It’s not a party without you.”

“It’s bowling night. I couldn’t let my team down, but I decided to come home early.” She pinched Libby and Megan’s cheeks. “I couldn’t miss my girls.”

Megan gave her grandmother a hug. “I’ve missed you, Gram.”

“Then you and Josh need to get your hienies back in K.C. I’m not getting any younger.”

Blair was surprised by the sorrow that crept into her as she watched the exchange. The only real family she had left was her mother, and she hadn’t expected to miss her so much, especially at her stupid wedding shower. In fact, her mother had been more upset than Blair that she was missing it. Blair had truthfully assured her it was no big deal, so she was shocked at the sudden realization that she now felt very alone.

Gram looked over at Blair and reached for her, pulling her into a bear hug. “You think you’re getting out of some lovin’?”

Blair found herself hugging the woman back. Gram held tight and whispered in her ear, “You got a lot of people who love you, girl, me included. Don’t you ever forget it.”

Blair leaned back and looked up into her face. Gram had been around as long as the three women had been friends. And while she and Libby were much closer, Blair had always loved her antics. Still, she’d never guessed that Gram was so sentimental about her. “Thank you,” she whispered. It was as if Gram had known exactly what she’d needed to hear.

Gram winked. “Now someone make me a bride!”

Megan laughed and handed her a roll.

Neil’s grandmother sat close to his group, of which she was technically a member, but she didn’t participate. She watched everything around her with an expressionless face, and Blair couldn’t help but wonder what the older woman was plotting. She was definitely the polar opposite of Megan’s grandmother.

“Hold still, Neil!” Debra cried out, stumbling as she tried to wrap the toilet paper more firmly around his chest. “I think the patio must be uneven. I can’t seem to stay upright.”

Neil rolled his eyes, then turned his attention to Blair. “Do we get to play-act the wedding ceremony, Blair?” There was a huge grin on his face as held out his arms so his sister could give him sleeves. “We can practice our kiss.”

“Only if you win!” someone in the third group shouted.

Blair watched him, wondering what in the hell she was doing. Neil wasn’t fireworks and rollercoaster feelings, but did she really want that? There was no doubt she and Garrett still had chemistry, but a fire could only burn so long before it became a pile of ashes—a lesson she’d already learned the hard way.

And as she watched Neil good-naturedly play along with the game, she realized he really was a great guy. He had a respectable career. He was responsible. He was good-looking. And he was capable of adapting to social situations. Neil wasn’t a stupid man. He had to know something had happened between her and Garrett, and yet here he was making an effort to have fun.

Was she really willing to throw away everything they had together? And for what? A few months with Garrett before he changed his mind again? She needed stability and respect, and she got both of those things from the man she was engaged to marry in a few days.

“You can have one now.” It went against her nature to show public displays of affection, but she wanted to offer him an olive branch. She walked over and lifted her mouth to his, expecting a brief kiss. But Neil glanced over her head as she moved to kiss him. Something flickered in his eyes, and his arms snaked around her back, pulling her tight against him, his kiss all teeth and tongue, catching her off guard. When she tried to pull loose, he held her close for a couple seconds longer before finally lifting his head.

Several of the women squealed and tittered, but Blair’s face burned with embarrassment.

“Neil!” his mother shouted, throwing up her hands in disgust. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve gone and ruined your dress.”

“But I got the girl,” he said smugly, glancing back toward the deck again. “That’s all that really matters.”

It was only then that Blair realized Noah and Garrett were on the deck. They’d seen the whole thing. Garrett’s body was rigid, but he let Noah lead him to the patio area.

Neil had staged the entire thing to prove a point to Garrett. They saw her as the prize for a competition. Was that why Garrett was pressing her so hard? To get one up on his cousin? Anger simmered below the surface, but guilt rose above it, catching her by surprise. Sure she had reason to feel guilty over her kiss with Garrett, but strangely enough, her guilt was over the way Garrett was watching her now. He didn’t look like besting Neil was his end goal.

“Hot damn!” Gram shouted. “Somebody needs to hose that boy down!”

Debra gasped, grabbing her cat and shaking it. “One dollar!”

“WTF?” Gram asked, walking toward her.

“Gram!” Megan gasped, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing.

She looked back at her granddaughter. “What? Isn’t that what you kids say?”

Libby giggled. “Do you even know what WTF means, Gram?”

“Yeah. Wild turkey fun.”

The women burst out laughing. But Knickers was wringing her hands as she assessed the situation.

One of Blair’s old friends groaned. “What’s the point of doing this if Blair’s just going to pick her fiancé anyway?” Then, as if in agreement, everyone stopped decorating their models.

Knickers’s eyes were wild with dismay. She was used to running things her way, and everything she’d planned was going to shit. “Well, okay . . . We can move to the next game.”

Blair stifled a groan. She wasn’t sure how much more of this evening she could take. Especially with the way Neil was clinging to her.

Knickers grabbed several trash bags and handed them out. “Let’s clean up, and then we’ll start.” She turned to look at the new additions and frowned. “Even the men can play this one.”

The toilet paper was cleaned up within minutes, and now that everyone was listening to Megan’s mother, she seemed much more self-assured. She picked up a shallow bowl filled with small pieces of paper and pens. “Everyone sit down and take two pieces of paper and a pen.” She walked around with the bowl, allowing each guest to pick his or her own slips. “Answer the questions you’ve selected, and then we’ll put them into the bowl. I’ll read the answers out loud, and Blair will have to guess who wrote them.”

Blair couldn’t restrain her groan this time. This sounded like pure torture. She hadn’t seen half the women in this group since high school and early college, and she’d spent as little time as possible with Neil’s family.

Knickers heard her sound of dismay and flashed her a toothy smile. There was no way she was getting out of this. Part of Blair couldn’t help wondering if this was Megan’s mother’s way of seeking revenge for all the shit the three of them had given her over the years. Truth be told, Blair probably deserved it.

She sat dutifully in the tall stool Knickers had assigned her, watching as everyone scrawled down their responses. Some finished quickly, and Blair took note of who they were, hoping it would give her a better chance at guessing who had written the short answers. Neil kept looking up at her with playful eyes that caught her off guard. What was he doing? Their relationship had been many things over the last two years, but it had never been playful. Megan and Libby looked tense, splitting their attention between their assigned task and the two men who were vying for Blair’s attention.

Garrett. Her gaze landed on the man who made her want to forget about responsibility and just say to hell with it all. But she was scared. Garrett Lowry was about the furthest thing from a safe bet, and while Blair might play high stakes with her work, she always thought through every move carefully before making it, even if she appeared to do otherwise. There would be no safety net with Garrett. Yet watching him now, bent over his paper, still writing when everyone else had finished and handed their papers to Knickers, part of her wondered . . . what if?

Finally, Garrett looked up and handed his sheets to Megan’s mother. His eyes met hers, and she could feel her resolve weaken, but then her gaze shifted to Neil, and she knew he’d seen it all.

Her chest tightened, squeezing the air from her lungs until her head felt fuzzy.

“Blair, dear,” Knickers said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

No. She was nowhere near okay, but Blair Anne Myers Hansen never showed signs of weakness. She lifted her chin, defiance filling her and easing the clamp on her lungs. “Of course. I’m fine.”

Her two best friends didn’t believe her, but she could tell they weren’t sure what to do about it.

Knickers reached into the bowl and handed her a paper. “Let’s get started!”

Sucking in a deep breath, Blair reached into the bowl and pulled out a slip, then opened it and read out loud, “When did you first meet Blair?” A slow smile spread across her face. “The first day of kindergarten. I was crying after my mom dropped me off, and Tim Eagers called me a crybaby. Blair walked in with her blonde curls and blue dress, headed straight over to Tim, and told him she’d beat his ass if he ever talked shit to her best friend again.” Blair looked up, surprised by the burning in her eyes. What the hell was going on with her? All this sentimental shit was coming out of nowhere. “Megan.”

Megan laughed. “And that’s exactly how it happened. You got sent to the principal’s office the very first day for cursing.”

Neil gave her a disapproving look, but Garrett was beaming.

Debra cleared her throat. “That’s two dollars, Blair.” She passed the kitty to her daughter, who leaned forward and reached it out toward her.

Blair chuckled and pulled two dollars from her pocket and stuck them in the jar. Then she winked at Megan, who was wiping her eyes. “Best two dollars I ever spent.”

Hopefully most of the questions and answers wouldn’t be like that—otherwise, Blair was doomed to embarrass herself with tears. Blair grabbed another question.

“What is Blair’s idea of a fun night?” She looked over the one-sentence answer, then read it out loud. “Working in her office.” She glanced up. “Debra.” Even if she hadn’t known, the tight loopy handwriting would have given it away.

Debra’s mouth pinched into a frown. “You really need to get a hobby, dear. Like quilting or couponing . . . so you’ll have something to occupy your time when the babies come.”

Garrett looked like he was going to combust, but Josh and Noah now sat on either side of him, and they each grabbed hold of him.

Gram’s mouth twisted with worry. “Maybe I should take my present back if you’re already pregnant. It’s a box full of edible underwear and lotions.”

“I am not pregnant,” Blair said, vehemently shaking her head.

Libby giggled and patted Gram’s arm. “And even if she were pregnant, she could still eat it . . . I mean wear it.” She and half their friends broke out into hysterical laughter.

Blair might have joined them if she wasn’t about to bolt out of the chair.

Knickers patted her shoulder. “Maybe we should read another question.”

Blair went through several more papers, most of them easy to guess. And even if she couldn’t guess who’d written the answer, all she had to do was keep an eye on the group as she read the paper. She was used to reading people, and the person usually gave himself or herself away without realizing it.

After about ten minutes, the crowd was getting restless, so Knickers handed her the bowl and said, “Last one, Blair. Make it a good one.”

She opened the paper and automatically read, “Your first impression of Blair.” Then she stopped when she saw the words that followed. Her heart sped up, and she glanced up at Garrett, his eyes dark and intense.

“Go on,” Knickers encouraged.

The words swam on the page through her tears. Oh, God. She couldn’t believe what he’d written, and she definitely didn’t have the strength to read it out loud.

Before she knew what was happening, Knickers pulled the paper from her hand and started to read. “I was blown away by her confidence. Most of us were anxious, but not Blair. She walked into class like she owned the place and let everyone know she was the one to follow. I could see she held people at a distance, afraid to let them close. But that first day, as she walked past me, I looked into her eyes—something everyone else was too intimated to do—and she held my gaze for a mere second, but it was long enough for me to see she was just as nervous as the rest of us. She was only better at hiding it. It took me six months to work up the courage to ask her out for pizza and beer. And when she sat across from me that first night, I lost my heart to her forever.”

Blair’s skin prickled and panic swam through her head as she glanced up at Neil’s furious face.

Knickers pulled the paper to her chest and sighed. “Neil, that is so romantic.”

The other women in the crowd gushed over him, and he forced a smile. “What can I say?”

Garrett glanced at his cousin in disbelief as Debra said, “I didn’t know you had any classes with Blair. I thought you were introduced by a friend.”

Blair could feel herself losing her tenuous grasp on control. She slid out of the chair, desperate to escape.

Megan jumped out of her seat as though someone had shot her in the ass. “Time for cake!”

Knickers shook her head. “But I have another game.”

“But everyone wants cake, Mom.” Then she pulled Blair’s arm and tugged her toward the back door. “We’ll go get it. Libby too.”

“Megan!” Knickers called after her. “You can’t make the bride get her own cake!”

“She wants first pick!” Libby said as she hurried after them into the house. “And she has a really hard time making up her mind, so this might take a while. We’ll be out when she’s done.”

“But there’s only one flavor,” Megan’s mother called after them.

Megan shoved Blair through the door, and when Libby entered, Megan shut the door and locked it.

Blair began to pace and sucked in deep breaths of air, feeling dangerously close to losing it.

“Blair,” Megan said, “talk to us.”

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.” She just had to whip herself into shape, go back out there, and finish this party. Then she could go home and sleep.

“How about starting with why you’re so upset,” Libby suggested.

“I’m perfectly fine!” she practically shouted.

“Okay . . .” Megan said, lifting her hands in surrender.

“Please,” Blair begged. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”

She continued to pace while sucking in deep breaths. What should s
s he do? She had finally composed herself after getting caught in the kitchen, but then Garrett had written that damn answer . . . Part of her desperately wanted to talk to him, but based on the way she seemed to lose all sense of reason when she was near him, she suspected there wouldn’t be much talking. She couldn’t risk it.

The fact was that she had to stay as far from Garrett Lowry as possible. She only had to make it through the week. Then he’d be gone, and everything would go back to normal.

But her heart wanted more. Then the faces of her clients filled her head—women who had crawled into her office, shards of their former selves, all because they had given too much of themselves away in the name of love.

Blair had lived through the pain of a broken heart once, and once was enough.

No, she’d thought long and hard about marrying Neil. It made perfect sense, so there was no point in reconsidering now.

Finally, Megan sighed. “Blair, talk to us.”

“About what?”

Megan opened her mouth, but Libby interrupted before she could say anything. “Girl talk. When was the last time we had a good chat?”

“Are you insane?” Blair nearly shouted. “There are a dozen women out there who never cared much for me in high school. They would just love to find every little flaw I have and shove it in my face. Then there’s Neil’s family, who wouldn’t know fun if it bit them in the ass. We can’t leave those wild hyenas with your mother so we can chat.”

Megan grinned. “I left a family dinner before my wedding to run off with Josh. You can afford to give your friends a few minutes. Besides, Gram can entertain them until we go back out there.”

“Blair, you’re overwhelmed, and it’s okay. It’s your party, so you can cry if you want to,” Libby teased.

“I don’t cry!” Blair pointed a finger in her face. “And I don’t need any help! I can do it myself!”

“Of course you can, Blair,” Megan said softly. “No one is questioning that. But you’ve got a lot on your plate right now with all the fuss about the ring, not to mention your job hinging on the wedding.” She gave Blair a sad look. “And Garrett.” When Blair opened her mouth to ask her how she knew about her job, Megan gave her a weak smile. “Libby told me. You should have called me.”

Blair shook her head, irritated by the tears burning behind her eyes. “I can handle it.” But there was no force behind the words.

“We know you can,” Libby said quietly.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked defensively.

There was a knock at the back door. “Megan?” Knickers called through the door. “Is everything okay in there? I thought I heard shouting.”

“We’re all excited over this cake!” Libby said.

“Oh . . . okay. Are you coming out soon?”

“Yes,” Blair said, heading for the door.

“Not yet!” Megan yelled, blocking the door. “We’re still working on the cake.”

“Well, okay . . .”

They heard her clomp off and Libby hopped onto a barstool. “The sooner we get our answer, the sooner we’ll let you out of here. Why don’t you start with what’s going on between you and Garrett?”

Blair’s preservation instinct sprang into action before she even realized what she was doing. “You want do to the sharing thing? How about we start with what’s going on with you and Noah?”

Her friend folded her hands on the table and rolled her eyes. “Fine, if you want to start with me, we will, but you have to agree to answer our questions too.”

Blair put her hands on her hips. “Fine.” She figured she’d badger Libby with enough questions to exasperate her into giving up her witch-hunt. “Now tell us about Noah.”

“Quit trying to make something out of it that’s not there. We’re just friends.”

“A friend who spends the night?” Megan asked.

“He sleeps on the sofa,” Libby protested good-naturedly. “That’s not the topic of discussion. And don’t help her deflect, Megan.”

“Why not?” Blair asked, leaning against the bar counter. “I thought we were having girl talk.”

Megan shot a glance out the back windows, her brow wrinkling with worry. Despite all her posturing, Megan would soon cave to the societal demand to appease her mother and her guests. Blair crossed her arms, feeling a bit evil. Better to feel evil and in control than on the verge of a panic attack.

Suddenly she realized how much the three of them had changed. Once they’d known everything about each other. It made sense that their friendship had changed—they all had their own lives, their own careers—but both Megan and Libby had found close relationships with other people. Blair had been stuck in the same place for years: alone.

The thought of being alone forever was suddenly terrifying, but then she reminded herself she wouldn’t be alone. She’d have Neil. Why didn’t that make her feel better?

Libby groaned. “I don’t expect you two to understand, which is why I haven’t told you much about it. I knew you’d react exactly this way.” She shrugged. “We’re friends, end of story. Other than this week, we haven’t seen each other since last month when he was here for business.”

“And Mitch is good with this?” Blair asked, intentionally sounding judgmental.

Libby gave them a tight smile. “Mitch trusts me, while you two obviously don’t.” Strangely enough, she didn’t sound offended. It was more as if she were stating a fact. Then she turned her attention on Blair. “But it’s easier to focus on my relationships than your own, isn’t it?”

Blair lifted her chin. “There’s nothing to discuss, and there is no plural ‘relationships.’ Just the one.”

“What’s going on with Garrett?” Megan asked.

She waved her hand in frustration. “Nothing you don’t already know. He’s Neil’s cousin, so he’s a groomsman now, thanks to their domineering grandmother . . . who, by the way, creeps me out. She watches everything like a damn eagle. What woman drags her grandson to a wedding shower? And why did he agree to come?” Her voice rose, and she knew she was losing control once more.

Megan leaned forward. “We all know his grandmother dragged him here. That’s not why we’re hiding in my kitchen while Neil’s niece and nephew destroy my parents’ backyard. How do you feel about him being here?”

She kept her voice cold. “I’m unhappy about it, and I have every right to be. What woman wants her ex-boyfriend at her wedding shower?”

“Blair,” Megan protested. “Josh told me it was pretty obvious there were some major sparks between you and Garrett. You can’t ignore that. Especially since you and Neil have none.”

Her eyes narrowed. “We have sparks.”

“Oh, please!” Libby snorted. “We all saw that kiss with Neil. Talk about awkward. If we counted on your chemistry to start a fire in a blizzard, we’d freeze to death. There is nothing there.”

“He caught me off guard,” Blair said in defense. “Besides, there’s more to a relationship than sparks.”

“Surely you don’t believe that,” Libby said softly. “Why won’t you tell us how you feel?”

“Again with the feelings,” Blair moaned. “Why do we have to discuss feelings?”

Megan frowned. “Because no matter what front you present to the world, you are not a cyborg. We’re your friends; we know you are actually capable of emotion.”

Blair lifted her eyebrows. “Cyborg?”

Megan shook her head and made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “Josh’s influence, but so not the point.”

“But it is the point,” Blair protested. “It’s exactly the point.” She put her hand on the counter and leaned forward. “Since when have you ever paid attention to anything the least bit sci-fi?” She turned to Libby. “And when did you start having guys as friends?” She waited for a moment, then pressed on, as if delivering a rousing closing statement in court. “You two have relationships I don’t understand. Have I been judgmental?”

“Yes,” both of her friends said simultaneously.

“Okay,” she agreed. “I have. But you still have them anyway, right? Live and let live—isn’t that your motto, Libby?”

She grimaced. “Not exactly . . .”

“Close enough. But isn’t it hypocritical of you guys to judge me when you’re doing exactly what you want? Why can’t I?”

They exchanged exasperated looks, then Megan turned to Blair. “You’re right, in a way. But we’re both happy. You’re not.”

“I am—”

Megan’s eyes narrowed. “Please don’t insult us. We know you too well for that.”

Blair sighed and stood upright. “Just because Neil and I don’t hold hands and make out in public doesn’t mean I’m not happy. Everyone has their own definition of happy.”

“And what’s yours?”

She’d never really asked herself that question before. “Winning every case and making partner.”

“And?”

She shrugged. “Probably buying a house and doing some traveling.”

Megan’s eyes pierced hers. “Where does Neil fit into this?”

Blair groaned. “He’s part of it.”

“Yet you made no mention of him.” Megan held up her hands when Blair started to protest. “Do you love him?”

Blair didn’t answer. She knew Megan and Libby didn’t understand her feelings for him, but she wasn’t like them. She didn’t expect them to understand.

Megan looked hopeful. “And what about Garrett?”

Blair’s back stiffened. “Why are we back to him?”

“Even if Josh hadn’t caught you guys in this kitchen, it’s plain as day he’s still interested in you. And I can tell you still feel something for him. So can Libby.” Megan continued to stare at her, waiting for some sort of response. “What are you going to do about it?”

A molten core of anger erupted in her then. “I’m not going to do a damn thing about it. I’m getting married, Megan, in case you didn’t get the clue from the gold embossed invitation and the taffeta bridesmaid dress.”

Libby exchanged a look with Megan before turning toward Blair. “We want you to rethink this wedding.”

“Why?” she asked, sounding snotty. “Because you don’t approve of the way I reacted to Neil’s kiss?”

“Blair,” Libby sighed.

She shook her head. “Our relationship isn’t based on passion and hormones. I’ve already told you that. Many times.”

“And each time I keep hoping you’re pulling my leg. That’s no kind of relationship at all.”

“I’ve done the whole can’t eat or sleep, let the guy consume your every thought relationship, and look how that turned out.”

“Blair,” Megan said, lowering her voice. “You can’t give up on love because you got your heart broken one time.”

“Yes, I can.”

Silence and tension hung heavy between them.

“You never told us much about Garrett,” Megan said. “You were busy in law school. Libby was in graduate school. I was out in Seattle. All we knew was that you were dating this really awesome guy, and then he dumped you to play the field.”

Blair shrugged. “What more is there to say?”

“Surely there’s more to it.”

“What do you want me to say, Megs? That I must be a bad lay?”

“Blair!” Megan gasped. “No.”

“Look,” Libby said. “I think what Megan is trying to say is that the guy is still very interested in you. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you the entire evening.”

Blair tilted her head back and groaned. “He’s only acting like that because Neil’s my fiancé. They hate each other. Garrett Lowry doesn’t do relationships. Remove Neil from the equation and he’s gone.”

Megan looked into Blair’s eyes. “So remove Neil from the equation.”

Her body stiffened. What if she did remove Neil from the equation? What if she said to hell with it all? So, she’d lose her job. She’d earned a reputation she could use to her advantage. True, it wouldn’t be in Kansas City, which would mean she’d have to move. It wasn’t the end of the world. But the moment she let herself really consider it, paralyzing fear overcame her. To cancel the wedding now would humiliate her in front of everyone. And Blair couldn’t willingly risk humiliation.

This was beyond ridiculous. A week ago she was perfectly content with her life. Wasn’t that proof enough to leave things the way they were?

Her jaw tightened as she stared at her friends. “I’m getting married this weekend. My career depends on this wedding going smoothly. This is not up for discussion.”

“Your job depends on this wedding, not your career. You can go somewhere else, Blair,” Libby said, echoing her thoughts of a moment ago. “In fact, maybe you should. What kind of company forces their employees to get married in order to make partner?”

Blair took a step backward. “I know you two don’t understand, but I ask that you support my decision. Can you do that?”

Both women looked up at her with sadness and sympathy, which killed her even more. Sympathy meant they saw her as weak. Weak meant vulnerable. She couldn’t afford to be either.

“Yes,” they finally said in unison.

“We’re here for you, no matter what,” Megan added.

“Thank you.” Blair picked up the cake on the counter and headed for the back door. “Now it’s time to go back to the party.” And back to the nightmare that had become her life.

Chapter Seventeen

Garrett watched the three women practically run into the house. Maybe he’d gone too far.

Noah patted his arm and tilted his head toward the back door, chuckling. “That’s a good thing.”

Was it? He knew he had to knock Blair out of her comfort zone to reach her, but it killed him that he was hurting her in the process. If he only had more time . . . but he didn’t.

Lost in thought, it took him a moment to realize that Neil was standing in front of him, his eyes dark with anger. “We need to talk.”

Garrett rose from his chair and stood face to face with his cousin. “I agree.”

Josh and Noah got to their feet as well. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Josh said.

“No,” Nana Ruby barked. “You two go talk out your differences.”

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Dena groaned. “Please tell me that you two aren’t going to duke it out over that stupid ring.”

Neil’s eyes hardened. “We’re fighting over something, all right.”

Josh glanced around the yard, worried. “Maybe you should go in the front.”

“I think by the shed is good enough,” Neil said with a toothy grin. “I want to be here when Blair comes out.”

“Sounds good to me,” Garrett forced out, stomping over in that direction.

Neil followed him, and as soon as they rounded the corner, he lost all pretense of playing the nice guy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Garrett?” he asked in a low voice. “What are you really doing here?”

“I already told you. Nana made me come.”

“Bull shit. Nana didn’t make you write that answer.”

“At least I was being truthful. And what would your answer be? That you saw her and got dollar signs in your eyes?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “There’s more to us than that.”

“You don’t love her, you prick. You don’t deserve her.”

Bewilderment covered Neil’s face. “And now you think you do? You’re only hurting her more.” He swallowed, his eyes turning cold. “What happened in the kitchen before I walked in, Garrett?”

“Why don’t you ask Blair?”

“Because I’m asking you.”

Garrett refused to answer.

Neil poked Garrett’s chest. “You keep your hands off my fiancée.”

“How would you notice? You’re too busy screwing other women to give her the attention she deserves.” He fisted his hands at his sides. “I intend to make sure she knows she has a choice.”

“With you?” Neil laughed. “You’re delusional if you think she’d go back to you.” He shrugged. “If you want to break us up so badly, why don’t you just tell her about Layla?”

Garrett gritted his teeth. Despite what Neil had told him earlier—and his own gut feeling—he’d thought about it. He knew it was a potential grenade that could blow up in his face, but he absolutely could not let her marry Neil. He had to tell her. So why couldn’t he make himself do it?

One more day. He’d give her one more day.

“If you don’t break it off by tomorrow night, I’ll tell her.”

Neil chuckled. “Do what you think is best.” His smirk told him that Neil still thought there wasn’t a chance in hell Blair would believe him.

“Just let her go, Neil. Please.”

Neil watched him with amusement. “I like watching you squirm.”

“What?”

“I kissed her because I saw you coming out the door. I kissed her to show you that she’s mine.” Hate filled his eyes. “For once I have something you want but can’t have. How does it feel?”

White-hot rage rushed through Garrett’s body. “Oh, my God. So this is revenge for you? You’re doing this to hurt me?”

Neil’s grin turned evil. “I’m marrying Blair for the reasons I told you earlier. But I have to admit that making you suffer is a very nice bonus.” He swallowed. “There’s no way I’ll break up with her now, because I will never let you have her.”

Jesus, Garrett had only made things worse.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find my fiancée and take her home and screw her.” He winked and started to walk back to the party, then looked back over his shoulder. “I’ll be sure to give you all the details tomorrow.”

Garrett lost it.

Neil had just reached the patio next to the pool when Garrett tackled him, sending them both into the water. They both came to the surface, and Garrett grabbed Neil’s shirt and slammed his fist into his cousin’s eye.

Several of the guests began to scream.

“Garrett!” his mother shouted.

“Neil!” Debra moaned. “Barbara, your son is attacking my boy! Make him stop!”

Neil tried to pull out of Garrett’s grip, but Garrett held tight. “You’re going to tell her tonight, you piece of shit.”

“That’s a dollar!” Debra shouted, waving her jar around like a maniac.

Neil backed up, trying to break free from Garrett’s hold, then ducked abruptly, leaving Garrett with a ripped shirt in his hand.

As soon as she saw Neil standing in the pool naked from the waist up, Gram shouted, “It’s a topless pool party!” She stripped off her shirt, revealing that she hadn’t been wearing a bra, and proceeded to hop into the pool with a large splash.

“Mother!” Nicole shouted in horror. “Get out of the pool!”

“Enough!” Nana Ruby shouted in a loud boom. Everyone stopped, including Gram, who wore a frown of disappointment.

Garrett pointed his finger at his cousin, who had waded backward toward the steps. “You think this is a contest, you asshole? Game on.”

“Go ahead and try,” Neil said in a deadly tone. “I will enjoy every moment of watching you lose.”

Garrett’s gaze was drawn to the deck. Blair stood between Megan and Libby, holding a sheet cake. The look of astonishment and betrayal on her face sent a cold jolt of shock through him.

What had he done?

Blair stomped down the steps as Neil scrambled out of the pool, panic in his eyes. “Blair, I know how that sounded.”

She stopped in front of him, her eyes an icy blue. Her gaze swept from Neil to Garrett and back. “Am I the prize or the goddamned ring?”

“You took the Lord’s name in vain!” Debra shouted. “Five dollars for the kitty.”

“Take your goddamned kitty and shove it up your ass,” Blair hissed.

Debra’s eyes flew wide, and she grasped her chest in shock. “Well, I never.”

“Well, maybe you should.” Blair turned her attention back to Neil. “Which is it, Neil? Me or the ring?”

“Blair,” he pleaded.

Garrett watched in horror.

“All this fuss over a silly ring,” Dena murmured.

Blair cocked her head. “You know, Dena, you’re right. All this damn fuss over a fucking ring.” She glared at Neil. “Here, hold this.” Then she dumped the cake on top of his head, smashing it down. Globs of cake fell onto the pavement.

“I wanted a piece of that,” Gram said with a pout.

“You want your stupid ring?” Blair asked, pulling it off her finger. “Here’s a new contest for you.” She pulled her arm back and threw it into the deep end of the pool. “The first one to find it wins.”

Neil pulled the cardboard cake base off his head and tossed it into the water, huge hunks of cake falling to the bottom. He glanced over to the pool as though torn over whether he should go find the ring or try to win her over.

“Oh, dear,” Nicole said. “That’s definitely bad for the filter.”

Blair took several steps backward, her body stiff.

“Blair.” Neil started after her. “Let me explain.”

She pointed her finger at him. “You stay away from me.”

Garrett watched in horrified silence, unsure what to say.

Megan and Libby stood at the bottom of the deck steps and tried to reach for her as she stomped past them. She lifted her hands into the air and cringed. “Don’t touch me.” She strode to the back door and flung it open, banging it into the side of the house as she disappeared inside.

Her friends looked torn between going after her and heeding her demand.

Garrett knew how they felt . . . only he was certain he felt a hundred times worse. What the hell could he do now?

Nicole looked around the chaos, tears in her eyes. “Oh, dear.”

Barb walked over to her and patted her arm. “It was a lovely party, Nicole. Thank you for having us.”

Of course his mother would bail first.

“Neil!” Debra shouted. “Go get the ring before your cousin gets it.”

Garrett shook his head, fighting the urge to cry. “It’s all yours,” he said, sloshing out of the water.

“All of it?” Neil asked with too much glee as he waded back into the pool.

Garrett shook his head in disgust. “You still think you have her?” His voice rose as his anger resurfaced. “You think you’re still marrying her after that?”

He heard a splash behind him, and Noah grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the steps, but Garrett resisted.

Neil grinned. “Blair is, if nothing else, practical. She’ll come to her senses tomorrow. Especially after I talk reason into her.”

Garrett had never hated anyone in his entire life as much as he hated his cousin in that moment. He moved toward his cousin in the pool, wading through the waist-deep water. He stopped when they were face-to-face, then whispered, “My only consolation right now is knowing you won’t be screwing her tonight after all.” His mouth lifted into an ugly grin.

Neil swung a punch at Garrett, which he tried to dodge. The water slowed his movement, and his cousin’s fist caught him in the mouth. His lip split, and he lunged for Neil just as Noah tried to drag him back.

The women on the patio released shrieks of dismay.

Josh jumped in behind Neil and pulled his arms behind his back.

“Stay away from my fiancée!” Neil shouted as Garrett started to climb up the steps, his wet jeans dragging him down.

“She’s not your fiancée anymore!” Garrett said, shaking his head in disgust. “In case you didn’t notice, she returned your fucking ring.” Not that she’d probably ever speak to Garrett again.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

One of the guests shook her head as she tsked and turned to the woman next to her. “And this is why you shouldn’t let men come to wedding showers.”

He started up the steps to the deck, then turned to Megan’s mother. “Mrs. Vandemeer, I apologize for ruining your party. I’ll be happy to cover any damages. Just send me a bill.” Then he moved past Blair’s stunned and angry best friends, feeling heartbroken all over again.

“Garrett,” Nana Ruby called after him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

He turned around, ashamed to face her. Neil was splashing around in the pool, diving for the ring.

“Don’t you dare leave without me. Now go stop that lip from bleeding.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, sounding like a chastised five-year-old, but that’s exactly how he felt. Jesus, he’d really fucked things up.

Noah bounded after him. “Hold up. Let me get you a towel.”

Garrett followed him into the kitchen. He grabbed a paper towel and wet it, then dabbed his lip. Less than an hour ago, he’d held Blair in his arms and kissed her in this very room. And now she was probably lost to him forever.

Noah disappeared down the hall and returned half a minute later with a towel. “So what happened?”

Garrett patted at his wet jeans and shook his head, too sick to repeat the sordid mess.

“Okay, it’s done. The real question is, what are you going to do about it?”

“She hates my guts. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You’re seriously going to give up?” Noah asked in disbelief.

“Look,” Garrett said, his anger returning. “Why do you even care? What’s in this for you?”

“I already told you.”

“Well, I know her, and it’s too late. My only consolation is that I’ve saved her from him. Especially after I found out he’s ch—” Garrett stopped, horrified that he’d almost let his secret slip.

Noah’s eyes narrowed. “He’s what?”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

The back door opened, and Nana hobbled in. “You’re ready to go?”

He tossed the bath towel onto the counter. “Yeah.”

They drove back to the hotel in silence. He spent the twenty-minute drive expecting her to berate or lecture him. The silence was convicting enough. He pulled into the parking lot in front of the hotel and turned off the engine.

“Nana, I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

She narrowed his eyes. “Bullshit. You do know what to say.”

He swallowed. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“I’m not.”

His gaze jerked up. “Excuse me?”

“You deaf? I’m not sorry.”

He shook his head, certain he’d heard her wrong. “Excuse me?” he said again.

“That punch was a long time coming.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You think I’m stupid?”

He grinned, his lip stinging. “No, ma’am. Never.”

“I know my grandkids. I know that boy’s a weasel.”

He sighed. “I did more harm than good.”

“True.” She chuckled. “But I confess I liked seein’ you deck him.”

“Don’t be telling Aunt Debra that. She might have you committed into a home.”

“Over my cold dead body.”

“I’d never let that happen, Nana. Either one.”

“I know,” she sighed, sounding weary. “I told you I know my grandkids.” She paused. “Which is why I’m giving you my farm in my will.”

He turned to her in shock. “What?”

“I don’t trust that boy with it, and I sure don’t trust his momma.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me you’ll take care of it. Keep it in the family.”

“I’m not a farmer, Nana.”

“You don’t have to be. Rent it out. Sell off part of it. Just promise me you’ll keep the house and the barn.”

A lump filled his throat. “I promise.”

She patted his hand, which was still on the steering wheel. “You’re a good boy, Garrett. I don’t say it much, but it’s true nonetheless.”

He grinned again. “You’re getting sentimental. Maybe you are going senile.”

She laughed, then sighed again. “Just old. Now on to the next part.”

He looked at her expectantly.

“What are you going to do about the girl?”

“Blair?”

“Of course, Blair. I don’t see you making goo-goo eyes at anyone else.”

He cringed. So it was that obvious? Hell, of course it was. He and Neil had brawled in the pool over her. The entire neighborhood knew. “There’s nothing to do. She thinks I’m only pursuing her to win some contest with Neil. She hates me, and I can’t say I blame her.”

“Bullshit. I didn’t set this all up for you to give up now.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t put you in the damn wedding to mess with Debra and Neil.” She grinned and shrugged. “That part was a bonus.”

“Then why did you make me a groomsman?”

Her eyes flew open in exasperation. “And you just called me senile. I know who she is, Garrett Michael Lowry. I know she was the one who broke your heart back in law school.”

“What? How?”

“I read the damned invitation, you fool. It said Blair Myers Hansen. I knew she was an attorney. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

He shook his head. “You set this up for me to see her again?”

She whacked him in the head. “I did this for you to win her back, you fool.”

He stared at her in shock, rubbing his head. “I had no idea you could be so devious. It’s not usually your style.”

She grinned. “Sometimes you have to mix it up a little.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Now what are you going to do to fix this?”

He wished to God he knew.

Chapter Eighteen

Blair walked into the office the next morning knowing that she looked like shit. She wasn’t a crier, but she had shed more than a few tears the night before. She felt duped by both Neil and Garrett, but it was Neil’s behavior that had really shocked her. It seemed so out of character. She walked past Melissa’s desk without acknowledging Melissa, so she wasn’t surprised when her assistant followed her into the room and shut the door.

“What happened?”

She set her purse and laptop bag on her desk, and then sat in her chair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Melissa perched in the chair in front of her desk. “O-kay.” She paused. “The caterer called to confirm the crab legs.”

“Shit.” Why had she not considered this part? There were a ton of details to deal with now. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I called off my wedding last night.”

“You did what?” she gasped. “What happened?”

Blair rubbed her forehead, trying ease the pounding in her head. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Do you want me to . . .” Melissa was flustered. She had never once seen Blair like that, not in the four years they’d known each other.

“No,” Blair sighed. “Let’s wait until after the deposition, and we’ll deal with it together.” The deposition. She’d considered stalling it, but she’d already made Brian Norfolk delay his trip home. She couldn’t very well cancel it and reschedule, particularly since she wasn’t sure how much more time she had with the firm.

She leaned back in her chair, tears pricking her eyes again. What would happen to all her clients?

“Do you want me to get you something?” Melissa asked, sounding worried. “Water? Coffee? Something for your headache?”

Blair was about to ask Melissa how she even knew about the headache, but Melissa always knew everything, anticipated everything. And now she was going to lose her.

“Blair?”

How did her life turn to shit in so short a time?

Blair sat up in her seat and took several deep breaths. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and she felt like she was suffocating. “The deposition is in twenty minutes. I need to get it together.”

“Maybe we should postpone.” Her voice faltered as though she expected Blair to dress her down.

“I can’t.” And to her dismay, her voice broke.

Melissa leaned forward. “Blair, there’s no shame in needing personal time. This is a big deal.”

She blinked her tears away. “I can’t. If I want to be the one who takes this deposition, it has to be today. Otherwise someone else will be doing it, and I don’t know that they’ll fight for Mrs. Norfolk like I will.” Her nerves pinged, and she stood and moved to the center of the room, needing space, needing something . . . if only she knew what. “I’m going to lose my job.” That was the biggest bitch of all. Marry an asshole or lose her job.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

Blair stopped moving, and her gaze pierced her assistant. “Melissa. Neither one of us hides from the truth. It’s not the time to start.”

Melissa stood. “I’ll get us both a glass of water.”

Blair knew she should be getting ready for her deposition. She should be preparing to face Garrett in the conference room, but all she could do was relive her kiss with him in the Vandemeer kitchen. How she’d thrown herself at him. How he’d been just as eager to kiss her. But that was before she’d overheard him and Neil fighting over who would win the contest. Was that his true motivation? So why had he told her he still loved her? To try to earn points in some pissing contest with his cousin? She knew they had a rivalry, but this . . .

Her office door opened, and Melissa walked in with a huge bouquet of flowers. “These were just dropped off.” Her eyes flashed with anger as she set them down on Blair’s desk.

“Who are they from?”

Melissa hedged. “I didn’t open the card.”

Blair stomped over and snatched the card from the middle of the flowers. It was a beautiful bouquet of red roses and white lilies. They were her wedding flowers, so she knew who’d sent them before she even read the card.

Blair,

I’m gutted. Please let me explain.

Forever yours,

Neil

“Blair?”

She spun around to see him looming in the doorway, a wary expression on his face.

Melissa hurried over and began to shove him out of the room with a surprising amount of strength for someone so slight. “I told you that you can’t come in here.”

Blair sighed and shook her head. “He can come in.” No matter the outcome, she needed to talk to him. There were too many complications to walk away without ever seeing him again. Melissa left the room, but she gave Blair one last significant glance before shutting the door behind her.

“Blair.” Neil rushed to her and tried to pull her to his chest, but she pushed him back.

“No.”

He took several steps backward and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Your rules, Blair. Just tell me what to do so I can fix this.”

She shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Can I explain what you saw? Please?”

“I have a deposition in fifteen minutes, Neil. Fifteen minutes.”

“Blair.” He reached for her hand. When she didn’t pull away, he continued. “I know things got out of hand last night, and you have no idea how sorry I am. I confronted Garrett about cornering you in the kitchen and . . . Let’s just say I couldn’t stand by and let him insult you like that.” His brow lowered with indignation.

“What are you talking about?”

“He was bragging about how he could win you from me.” He took a deep breath. “He was rude and disgusting about how he planned to go about it, and I refused to listen to him talk about you that way.”

“What way?”

He moved closer to her and slowly slid an arm around her back. “Darling, don’t make me tell you. I had enough trouble listening to him say it. So I hit him.”

Neil had to be one of the most non-confrontational people she’d ever met. She had a hard time picturing him throwing a first punch, yet she’d clearly seen them scuffling in the pool, and there was no denying the bruise under his eye now.

“I really don’t have time for this. I have to be ready for this deposition. Now more than ever.”

He slowly ran his hands up and down her bare arms. “Darling, we were both angry last night, and things got out of hand. But we’re getting married in two days. All I ask is that you think things through before you make any hasty decisions you’ll regret.”

She didn’t respond. Perhaps he had a point.

“I know you have a lot on your mind. The last thing you needed was for my cousin to turn up and try to humiliate you. And then there’s Nana Ruby.” Her name rolled off his tongue as though it imparted a bitter taste. Then he looked into Blair’s face. “But there’s something I didn’t tell you.” He lowered his eyes. “The reason I’m putting up with her shit.”

She gave him a look of irritated disbelief. This sounded a lot like a con job. “Go on.”

“Her inheritance.” He licked his lower lip. “She has thousands of acres right outside the Springfield city limit. Her land is probably worth millions, though she hardly acts like a woman of wealth and class. If I piss her off, she’ll cut me out of the will.”

Blair’s eyes narrowed. “That seems unlikely.”

“You don’t know her like I do. You didn’t spend every summer watching the two of them huddled together over horses and literal shit in the barn, while they pretended I didn’t exist.”

She backed up and put her hands on her hips. “And thus your need to best him.”

His face softened. “No, Blair. It’s not like that.” He was quiet for a moment. “Garrett’s a player, through and through. He assesses a situation and tries to figure out the best way to milk it to his advantage. He’s only close to Nana Ruby because he wants the land all to himself. And the best way to do that is not only to get into her good graces, but to alienate her from me.”

She shook her head. “That seems like a stretch.”

“You knew him before, right? He was the boyfriend who broke your heart in law school. He tried to rekindle your relationship last night in the kitchen.”

Guilt swam in her head, making her dizzy. The kiss. “How did you—?”

“He told me, Blair. He came to my office yesterday before the shower and laughed about how he was going to get you to cancel the wedding to get back at me. It’s all a game to him.”

“So you admit to there being some weird competition between you two?”

“On his side, not mine.” When she didn’t answer, he cocked his head. “But Blair, let me ask you this. If he wants you so badly—” a sympathetic smile spread across his face, “—why did he wait until now to try to win you back? Why didn’t he resurface in your life before we met? Why is he only showing up now, the week of our wedding?”

He was asking questions she’d been asking herself all night long while she tried—and failed—to sleep.

“Garrett’s always been competitive. I’m sure you saw that side of him during the year you were together.”

It was true. He hated to lose, just like she did, but it had always been a healthy trait. Not destructive. The man Neil was describing to her was not the man she knew. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Neil. I have to get to my deposition.”

“It’s with him, isn’t it?” Hatred filled his eyes.

“Yes.” There was no reason to deny it. “But it’s work. It’s my job.”

“I know. I know.” He pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “I just hate that you’re going in there with him before I’ve had the chance to convince you how sorry I am. Please at least give me that opportunity, Blair.”

She groaned. “I don’t know what to believe, Neil, and I don’t have time to sort it out right now. I have a client who is depending on me to go in there and do my job.” Irritation laced her words.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He sounded desperate. “Have you called anything off yet?”

“No.” The word came out harsher than intended. Before he could read too much into it, she added, “Nothing is open yet.”

He pushed out a sigh of relief. “Then don’t. Please, Blair. Just wait and let’s talk this through before you do anything hasty. Let me take you out to lunch. Then, if you still want to call it off, we will.”

Did she really want to take the time to meet with him? Canceling a wedding this size was going to be a logistical nightmare. She and Melissa needed to get on it right away.

“Blair, darling. Please. I’m begging you.”

A couple of hours weren’t going to make much difference at this point. And she supposed she owed him this. “Fine. Now I have to get ready.”

He moved closer and put his hands on her shoulders, searching her eyes. “I’ll make this up to you, I swear.” He leaned down to give her a kiss. She turned her head, and he planted it on her cheek. “If you call it off, I’ll be devastated. But don’t leave me for him. I don’t want that asshole to hurt you twice. So please, when you see him today, ask him if he came to see me at the hospital yesterday. When he says yes, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

“Neil.” She didn’t have time for this.

“It will be proof that I’m telling you the truth about him. You know he and I aren’t friends. Why else would he come to see me?”

She scrunched her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure how much more stress she could take.

He kissed her temple, his lips lingering as his hands slowly slid down her arms. “Thank you for listening.” Then he turned around and walked out the door.

She couldn’t help noticing that his plea hadn’t included any heartfelt professions of love. But that’s what she wanted, right? Emotions were messy things to add to the mix. They broke hearts, caused fights. Last night was proof enough of that.

Maybe she was better off spending her life alone.

Chapter Nineteen

Garrett walked into the office of Sisco, Sisco, and Reece looking like a defeated man. And while that was exactly how he felt, he couldn’t let his client see him that way. Especially after Brian Norfolk had accused him of letting Blair win because he wanted to get into her panties.

The receptionist called Blair’s assistant for him, and a minute later, Melissa opened the door. She studied him for a good long moment, no doubt taking in his swollen lip, then stood to the side and motioned him into the hall. “Do you want a room to prepare?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. He needed to clear his head and get his shit together, but all he really wanted to do was go home and lick his wounds.

She led him to the small room he’d used before, but rather than leave him there, she followed him in and shut the door. His head jerked up in surprise.

She stood in front of the closed door and lifted her chin. “Do you love her?”

“What?” That was probably the last thing he’d expected her to ask.

“Do you love her? It’s a simple question with a simple answer. Yes or no.”

He nodded, feeling the first spark of hope since last night. “Yes. Definitely yes.”

“Did you cheat on her when you were together?”

Her assistant was asking him personal questions that she had no right asking. They were both crossing a line if he answered, but he was desperate, and besides, he could tell that she was much more to Blair than just an assistant. “No. I swear to you, I didn’t.” He ran his hand through his hair. And just like that, he found himself telling Melissa the whole sordid story.

She just stood there and listened, nodding in all the right spots.

“The worst part was when I found out why she’d picked a fight with me that night,” he finished, his voice choking. He looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “Her father had just died.”

She closed her eyes and released a soft groan. They stood in silence for several seconds before she opened her eyes. “She said she broke off the wedding.”

More hope flooded into his battered heart. “She did?” Though he’d watched her toss the ring into the pool, he’d worried she would second-guess her decision in the cold light of day.

“But Neil’s in her office with her right now, trying to get her to change her mind.”

He tried to bolt for the door, but she blocked his path. “Stop. You know that’s not the way to get to her.”

He backed up, scrubbing his hand over his head. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Blair doesn’t fall for bullshit, but for some reason she has blinders on for him. I think she sees him as safe.”

“He’s not. There are sides to him you don’t know about.”

“I’ve suspected as much. But there’s another threat you don’t know about—one that might encourage her to go through with the marriage anyway.” She paused until she knew she had his attention. “The partners are considering offering her partnership, but it all hinges on her wedding. They tend to prefer married partners, and they also want to see that she’s not all sharp edges, that she’s capable of a softer side. If they like what they see, they’ll offer her partnership. If they don’t, she loses her job.”

“They’ll fire her?”

She nodded.

It seemed unlikely, but it wasn’t the first time he’d heard a story like that. “They told her this? They could lose millions if she chose to sue.”

“A junior partner confided in her and told her they’re voting next week. If she tells anyone, he’ll deny the story up and down.”

He grunted his frustration. “Damn.”

“She doesn’t love Neil, but she loves her job, and she’s very loyal to me.” Melissa took a deep breath. “She’s already had me put out a feeler for other jobs in the Kansas City area, and there aren’t any good ones. She’ll have to move, which she can do, but it’s very doubtful I’ll end up with her.”

This was going from bad to worse. “So you’re worried she’ll marry him to keep her position and you.”

“Yes. If he can convince her.” She reached for the door. “I’ve already said too much. I don’t want her to marry him, and while I’ve hinted to her that I see issues in her relationship, as her employee, I can’t outright tell her. But I can see you’ve shaken her up. Even if she’s pushing you away, she still cares about you.”

He smiled and immediately regretted it when his lip stretched and tugged on his cut. “Thank you.”

Then her eyes narrowed and pierced his. “But if you hurt her again . . .” The threat was unfinished, but it still held weight.

“I want to protect her, just like you do.”

“Then you better work fast.” She opened the door and stepped into the hallway. “The conference room is down the hall when you’re ready.” Then she turned and headed toward the back offices.

Garrett heard Neil’s voice in the hall outside the room.

“Melissa, I know we’ve had our differences,” Neil said. “But Blair won’t be canceling the wedding, no matter what she says at the moment, so I would appreciate it if you kept that busy work on the back burner until she gives you official word that the wedding’s back on.”

Melissa’s voice was clear and direct. “I take my direction from my employer, Dr. Fredrick. Not from you.”

Garrett headed to the doorway and spotted the two several feet down the hall. If Blair cared about her assistant half as much as he thought she did, he had a feeling she’d call off the wedding solely based on the condescending look on Neil’s face.

“Just remember you’re her assistant. Don’t overstep your bounds.” He brushed past her and stopped when he saw Garrett in the doorway. He glanced back at Melissa, who was still watching him, and then shifted his gaze to Garrett. “So the two of you are colluding?”

Garrett leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, feeling more confident than when he’d walked into the office minutes ago. “I think you’ve watched one too many episodes of House of Cards, Neil. I’m here for a deposition. Quit making everything into a conspiracy plot.”

Neil’s face twisted into an ugly glare. “You’ve always thought you were smarter than me. I’m about to prove you wrong.” Then he grinned and strutted down the hall and out the office door.

That statement scared Garrett more than he was willing to admit.

He headed into the conference room, where the court reporter was already setting up in the corner. There was no sign of his client. They still had five minutes, but Brian Norfolk’s attitude the previous night didn’t bode well for how things were about to go down. If he didn’t show . . . well, the joke would be on Norfolk. Garrett almost hoped he didn’t show. It would help Blair’s client, and it would give Garrett’s firm sufficient grounds to drop the sleazebag as a client.

Garrett was pouring himself a glass of water when Blair appeared in the doorway, just as beautiful as ever, albeit clearly exhausted. Today she wore a cream-colored dress with a black trim. Her hair was pulled up, and his gaze pivoted to the curve of her neck, then rose to her lips, making him think of the night before.

She’d kissed him. She’d made the first move. It gave him more confidence, and God knew he needed as much as he could get.

“Good morning, Mr. Lowry,” she said briskly.

“And to you, Ms. Hansen.”

“I see your client hasn’t arrived yet.” Her words were crisp and tight.

“I expect him shortly.”

She approached the table and rested her hands on the back of the chair across from his. “I am a very busy woman, Mr. Lowry. I can’t afford to waste time waiting for fools.”

He had no delusions regarding her true meaning. “Sometimes fools rush in, Ms. Hansen, but their intent blinds their judgment and incites rash behavior.”

The court reporter glanced between them, trying to figure out what she was missing.

“We still have two minutes before the deposition is supposed to start.” Garrett forced himself to sound nonchalant. “You’d waste more time going to your office and back than if you stay here and wait.”

He knew Blair hated to be seen as reactionary, and if she stomped off now, that’s exactly how it would appear. A rush of relief washed through him when she sat down in her chair.

The reporter cringed. “Would you mind if I take a restroom break? I had some spicy tuna rolls last night . . .” Her voice trailed off.

A flash of irritation flickered in Blair’s eyes, but then it softened. “No. Of course.”

The woman hurried out the door, leaving Blair and Garrett alone.

Her eyes narrowed into angry slits. “Did you encourage her to do that?”

“No, Blair,” he said sadly. “I didn’t. But I won’t lie and tell you that I’m not happy she left. We need to talk.”

Her shoulders tensed. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There’s everything to talk about, from our kiss in that kitchen to Neil’s reasons for marrying you to what you heard when you came out of the house last night.”

Her eyes turned a cold, clear blue. “I told you I won’t waste my time on fools, and I meant it.”

He put his hands on the table. “You think calling me a fool is an insult? I am a fool. I’ve never denied it. Not now and not five years ago when I camped out on your doorstep for half the night begging you to let me explain.”

She sucked in a breath, and though he hated that he was picking at her old wounds, he had to make her see that this wasn’t some stupid competition to him. This was his heart in his hands. “Go out on a date with me.”

Her head jutted back, and she looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t go out on a date with you. I’m engaged.”

“Not anymore.” He pointed to her now bare hand.

She reached absently for her ring finger, rubbing at the empty spot.

“That ring was never right for you anyway. A traditional, heirloom piece? That seems more like your friend Megan’s style.”

A slight grin tipped the corners of her lips. “Good call. Josh gave her his grandmother’s ring. She loves it.”

“You’re more contemporary. Probably a square diamond solitaire, large but not too large.”

She smirked. “For a guy, you know more than you should about engagement rings.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s a sexist statement.” But it was true. He hadn’t known jack crap about engagement rings up until last night. He’d spent one of his many sleepless hours searching for the ring that would best suit her if he ever got the opportunity to propose. “Am I right? Would that be more your style?”

She didn’t answer, which was an answer in itself.

“So go on a date with me. How about lunch?”

Her grin faded. “I’m having lunch with Neil.”

“I see.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Do you?”

He put his hand on the table and leaned forward. “No, Blair. I honestly don’t. You don’t love him. And I know you think he’s safe, but I’m not sure why.”

“That is none of your business.”

“Okay, fair enough, but answer me this.” He kept his tone soft and comforting to cushion the barbs he was about to sink. “When did you start running away? That’s not like you at all.”

She slammed her hands on the table. “What the hell are you talking about? When did I ever run away? You’re the one who left me!”

“You’re pretending that marrying a man you don’t love is the logical decision. If that’s not running away, I don’t know what is.”

“How in God’s name is that running away?”

“Because you’re running away from love.”

“What the hell do you know about love, Garrett Lowry? You took what we had and destroyed it.”

“I know.” His voice broke. How many times would she have to say it to purge it from her system? What if the number was infinite? “I’ll regret it until the day I die, but I loved you, Blair. I still do.” He reached over the table and grabbed her hand. “I meant every word I said last night. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

She looked away, but she didn’t pull her hand away. It was something. “So what exactly are you proposing here?” She glanced back at him. “A date?”

He tried to hold back his excitement. “Yeah. A date.”

“Where would we go?”

He took a shallow breath. “Pizza. Some place where we could get a beer and talk. Then we’d go to a piano bar, like we always loved doing, and make fun of all the cheesy love songs.”

Sadness filled her eyes, and she slid her hand out from under his. “We’ve both grown up since law school.”

“Sure, but not completely. Are you telling me that doesn’t sound like something you’d want to do?”

She didn’t answer, which meant she was considering it. He wondered what her dates with prissy Neil were like, but he didn’t dare ask, and part of him didn’t want to know.

“Why now, Garrett? After all these years, why now?”

He sighed. “I told you, Blazer. I was too scared to approach you after all this time. But then when I saw you in Phoenix . . . and then here. Call it whatever you like—fate, kismet, or coincidence—but to me it was the universe telling me to man up and go after you.”

Her gaze pierced his. “And where does Neil fit into this?”

“Hopefully, Neil doesn’t fit anywhere into this.”

“How can you say that?”

Understanding hit him, and he groaned. “There is no contest, Blair. You’re not some inanimate object to be fought over. I only want you to be happy, but I hope to God it’s with me.”

Garrett glanced up in time to see Brian Norfolk walk through the door.

Blair sat upright in her seat, but her eyes were still locked onto Garrett’s—like she was performing some kind of human lie detector test—as she waited for the jerk to sit next to him.

“Mr. Norfolk,” she said. “How wonderful of you to finally join us.”

“Hey, I’m only five minutes late.” He plopped down in the chair next to Garrett’s.

Blair gave him a condescending glare as the court reporter entered the room behind him and took her seat. “Mr. Norfolk, I’m sure your attorney has told you this, but I feel compelled to reiterate that when we win—which we will—you will end up paying us by the hour. If you waste any of my time, you will end up paying for it handsomely.” She flashed him a smile. “So thank you.”

He muttered a curse word under his breath, and Blair shot him an evil smile before beginning her questions. Garrett had to hand it to her. Now that she’d made him admit to his hidden money, she knew exactly what follow-up questions to ask to find everything else he’d squirreled away. Frankly, Garrett was surprised there was that much money left. He’d seen Norfolk’s expenses.

The entire matter took less than three hours, and Norfolk slunk out as quickly as he could, leaving Garrett in the conference room with the court reporter and Blair. He could see she was stalling, shuffling her papers in her folder. It was another hopeful sign that she was hanging back to talk to him.

He stood to leave, and she did as well, keeping her gaze on the door. Once they were both in the hall, she glanced up at him.

“Did you go see Neil at the hospital yesterday?”

“Neil told you?”

Her eyes flew open in surprise. “So it’s true?”

Why would Neil confess such a thing? Garrett suspected it couldn’t be good, but he wouldn’t lie to her. “Yes, it’s true.”

Her eyes turned icy again. “Then you’re wasting your time and mine, Garrett. Go back to California where you belong.” She turned her back to him and started down the hall.

“Blair!”

He followed her, and she turned back to him, fear and anger in her eyes. She reminded him of a trapped wild animal. “Stay away from me.”

What in the hell had just happened?

Chapter Twenty

“Blair, please,” Megan pleaded over the phone. “Rethink this decision.”

Blair leaned her head against the back of her office chair. Good God. How many people had pleaded with her over the last twenty-four hours? It was exhausting. “I’ve made up my mind. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

“Even after what happened last night?”

“Neil and I discussed it over lunch. I accepted his explanation. There’s nothing to rethink.”

“And what about Garrett?”

“What about Garrett? He’s from my past. We had our chance. It’s gone. Neil is my future.” She’d been telling herself that all afternoon. She was starting to believe it. At least a little.

“Oh, Blair.”

“We’ve decided to call off the party tonight, especially after everything that happened last night.”

“You mean so no one can talk you out of the wedding?” Megan snorted. “Was this his idea?”

“It was a mutual decision.” But Neil had been the one to suggest it.

“So you don’t have plans tonight?”

“Neil and I are going out to dinner.”

“You’ll be spending every day with Neil after Saturday, but I’m going back to Seattle. Come out with Libby and me tonight. We’ll make it a bachelorette party.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to marry Neil,” Blair said in a haughty tone.

“Blair, you’re a grown woman. We’ve stated our opinion, but it’s ultimately your decision. Now let’s have a girls’ night out.” She paused. “If Neil will let you, that is.”

Her back stiffened. “Neil doesn’t own me, Megan. We don’t have that kind of relationship.”

“Then it’s a plan?”

Neil would likely be upset. At lunch, he had taken the blame for their broken relationship and had suggested they spend more time together to rekindle the connection they’d shared in the beginning, although Blair could admit to herself that it had never been even close to what she’d shared with Garrett. He gave her back the ring and said he wanted to start tonight with a special dinner. But Megan was right. They had the rest of their lives to spend together. She had no idea when she would see Megan again. Besides, she couldn’t think of the last time the three of them had all just hung out and talked. “Yes, but I have some work to do before I take off.”

“Good.” Megan sounded smug. “Then meet us for dinner. You pick when and where. We can meet close to your office to make it easier for you.”

“Okay. Seven o’clock at O’Malley’s.”

“At least try to sound excited about it.”

“I’m excited.” And she was. She just needed to tell Neil first. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“A wedding will do that to you. See you at seven.”

Blair was caught by surprise when Neil’s phone didn’t go to voice mail.

“Blair? Miss me already?” he asked in a teasing tone.

His response was so unlike him, she was shocked into silence. “Uh . . .”

“I can’t wait until our dinner tonight. I’ve come up with the perfect restaurant. I was just about to text you the location.”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling . . .” Why was she so nervous? She’d never had trouble telling him what she wanted before. “I need to cancel our plans tonight.”

He paused. “Blair. I thought we agreed to focus more on us. Starting tonight.”

“I know, but Megan and Libby want me to go out with them. I can’t even think of the last time all three of us went out to dinner.”

“Darling, they want to convince you to break off the wedding.” He sounded worried.

Her temper flared. “You think I’m incapable of making up my own mind?”

“No. Of course not.” He sounded taken aback. “But—”

“Then there’s no discussion. I’m going out with my friends.”

“I’ll miss you.”

Now she was really suspicious. “Don’t lay it on too thick, Neil.”

“Due to my own stupidity, I almost lost you last night. It’s made me realize that I’ve taken you for granted.” His voice lowered. “I love you, Blair. I know I rarely say it, maybe because you never do, but I do love you.”

He was right. She rarely said it, but she hated lying. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Melissa came in about an hour later, set a file on Blair’s desk, and then spun around to leave. She wasn’t acting like herself, and Blair was worried. It occurred to her that she’d piled a lot of her own personal tasks onto her assistant, especially since she’d asked her to take care of canceling tonight’s party.

“Did you have any problems with the cancellation?”

Melissa turned to face her, crossing her arms. “None at all.”

“Melissa, is everything okay?”

Her eyes were guarded. “And why wouldn’t it be?”

Blair knew a deflection when she saw one. She stood and walked around her desk. “I know I’ve asked you to do a lot of personal errands for me lately.”

Melissa sucked in a breath and stared her down. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job.”

“No, it’s not. Not really.” She moved closer. “I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate everything you do.”

Her assistant looked down and then back up, still on guard. “I know you do, Blair. Thank you.” And with that, she left the room.

Blair considered going after her, but she had enough on her hands. She’d deal with whatever was bothering Melissa later.

Megan and Libby were waiting for her in the restaurant when she arrived several minutes after seven. She prepared herself to be berated for being late, but they just smiled and held up their drinks.

“We started without you,” Libby said.

Blair cracked a smile. “So it would seem.”

“We’re still waiting for our table,” Megan added. “Let’s get you something.”

“Just water. I have a busy day tomorrow and a meeting with a potential new client in the morning.”

They both knew she wasn’t supposed to be in the office on Friday, but neither woman commented on it.

Libby took a sip of her wine. “I guess you don’t have to worry about your job now, huh?”

She thought about defending herself, but she doubted Libby meant it as a jab. She was just being sensitive. That thought almost made her snort out loud—when had Blair Myers Hansen become sensitive?

The hostess approached them a few minutes later and led them to their seats. They spent the next hour and a half talking about their jobs, their mutual friends, Megan and Josh’s life in Seattle, and a new photography project of Libby’s. The conversation steered clear of all topics even peripherally related to Neil, Garrett, and the wedding. Which left Blair with very little to discuss.

“I’ve heard this place has amazing cheesecake,” Libby said, taking a sip of her wine. “Want a slice?”

Blair laughed. “No way. I have to fit into my dress on Saturday.”

“One piece of cheesecake won’t hurt,” Megan teased.

Blair stuck to her guns. “Nope. I have enough things to worry about without adding the fear of being unable to zip up my dress.”

“Well, in that case,” Libby said, flagging down the waitress. “Let’s pay the bill and head over to the bar down the street and get a drink.”

Blair shook her head. “I can’t. It’s a work night.”

“Come on, Blair.” Megan tilted her head and gave her a pouty face. “It’s too early to call it a night. Who knows when we’ll be able to hang out again.”

She only had one meeting scheduled, so she could afford a later start than usual. Especially since it was officially her day off. “Okay.”

They left the bar and were heading down the street when a woman emerged from a doorstep and grabbed Blair’s arm.

She stared up at Blair with intense brown eyes. “Your fortune for five dollars.”

Blair tried to pull free, but the woman’s grip was like a vise. Her first thought was that the panhandlers in this part of town had gotten significantly more aggressive, but the woman didn’t look homeless. In fact, she was clean and fairly well dressed in a long flowing skirt and shirt. Tight black ringlets framed her face.

“I don’t think so.”

“I’ll pay,” Libby said, rummaging through her purse and pulling out a bill. “Come on. You have to admit you of all people need your fortune read.”

Blair’s body tensed. “You know I don’t believe in that crap.”

“Humor us.” Libby handed the money to the woman. “I’m paying for it. Consider it my bridesmaid’s gift.

“Fine.” She held out her hand to the woman, palm up. “Read it.”

The woman took it and shook her head. “I don’t read palms. I read souls.”

Blair didn’t hide her amusement. “By all means. Read my soul.” Her grin widened. “If you can find it.”

The woman’s eyes held Blair’s for several uncomfortable seconds before she spoke. “You are at a crossroads both professionally and in love.”

Blair’s smile fell.

“You’ve been cursed.”

Blair tried to jerk her hand free, but the woman’s fingers dug into her flesh. “Now this is just bullshit,” Blair said.

“It’s up to you to break the curse. Everything depends on making the right choice,” the woman said, releasing her hold. “You don’t have much time.” Then she smiled. “For twenty-nine dollars, I can give you a tarot reading. If you’ll just come into my office . . .” She motioned to the door behind her, and Blair realized they were standing in the awning of her psychic shop.

Blair turned to give Libby a scathing glare. “You set this up.”

Libby lifted her hands in defense. “No. I swear.”

Megan flashed the psychic a smile. “Thank you, but we’re going to pass.” She grabbed Blair’s arm and tugged her away.

“That was bullshit, Libby.” Blair felt her cheeks grow hot, which only made her angrier.

“How could I set this up, Blair?” her friend asked. “You picked the restaurant. I never come down to Brookside. I didn’t even know this place was here.”

“Come on,” Megan said. “Let it go.”

Blair dug her heels into the sidewalk. “I think I should just go home.” Though she’d die before admitting it out loud, the fortune teller had scared her. Blair reminded herself that the psychic had thrown out general terms in a fishing expedition, looking for a topic to narrow in on based on her reaction. But while her head knew this, the unreasonable part of her considered going back for some answers.

She had finally lost her mind. What if she was making the wrong choice? “Fine.”

“Great!” Megan exclaimed, ignoring her short response.

The bar was a short walk away, and as soon as Blair got through the door, she ordered a whiskey.

“Don’t you want to find a table first?” Megan asked.

“No.”

Libby ordered a glass of wine and Megan a beer, and once they had their drinks, they found an empty table in the back of the bar.

They’d barely gotten settled when Libby looked at Blair’s left hand and asked, “So you’re wearing the same ring?”

The panic rose out of nowhere, and she wasn’t even sure why. “Yeah,” she forced out. “It’s practical.” She took a sip, trying to hide her shaking hand.

“Yes,” Libby murmured. “It is practical.”

Blair took another sip. “Just say it, Libby. Say what you’ve been dying to say all night.”

She shook her head. “Blair, we really do just want you to be happy. You don’t look happy.”

“How could I be happy when you two won’t accept my choices?”

“Enough, Libby,” Megan said, taking a big gulp of her beer. “Change the topic.”

The three women sat in silence until Megan finally said, “Blair, we stand by you no matter what. Right, Libby?”

Libby nodded. “My lips are sealed.”

Still, their mood—already dampened from the encounter on the street—was grim.

“Maybe we should just call it a night,” Blair said.

“No,” Megan protested, anger darting into her eyes. “Not yet. We used to have fun together, and we’re going to have fun, dammit! We’ll stay here all night if we have to!”

The two women looked at her and burst out laughing. Megan joined them and ended up laughing the hardest of all of them.

“I’ve missed this,” Blair confessed.

Libby grinned. “Me too.”

“See?” Megan countered. “We all miss this, and it’s wonderful that we’re here together. Let’s make the most of it.”

They ordered another round of drinks, and Blair felt her panic retreat. Maybe this was what she needed—a night of fun with her friends.

They’d finished their second drinks, and Megan ordered another round. Blair knew she probably shouldn’t drink any more, but she picked up the drink and took a sip as soon as it was placed in front of her.

“Oh, crap.” Megan’s eyes widened.

“What?” Libby and Blair asked in unison.

“I think we should go.” Megan turned to her, her forehead wrinkled with worry. “We didn’t do this, Blair. I swear.”

“Do what?” Then she glanced at the front door, and her face instantly flushed when she saw who’d just walked into the bar.

Garrett.

Not just Garrett. The McMillan brothers were behind them. The way Josh and Noah had taken to Garrett, Blair wouldn’t be surprised if they sent out an adoption announcement officially changing Garrett’s last name to theirs.

Blair narrowed her eyes. “Are you kidding me?”

“We didn’t plan this,” Libby said, looking worried. “Josh and Noah were supposed to meet Garrett in his hotel bar, which is right around the corner. There was no way they knew we’d be here.”

Garrett looked around, and his eyes found Blair. Though she could hardly believe this was a coincidence—particularly after all of the other coincidences that had been piled into her lap lately—the shock in his eyes was undeniable. And like a moth to a flame, he came right to her. Her eyes were so laser-focused on him, she barely registered that the McMillan brothers were following him.

He stopped in front of her table. “Blair.”

She couldn’t believe he had the nerve to come over to her after admitting he’d gone to Neil’s office. “Go away, Garrett.”

He swallowed, looking nervous. “Give me one dance.”

She looked around the bar, incredulous. “No one’s dancing, Garrett.”

“I don’t care. Dance with me.”

She lifted her chin and held up her left hand. “I’m engaged.”

“So I heard. I rented a tux today. Black with a red tie. Classic. Good choice. I think I’m standing on the end of the line.”

She jumped off her stool and stumbled around Libby to stand in front of him. “You’ve got to be kidding me! You’re still in the wedding?”

He smiled, but his eyes were sad. “Nope. Nana Ruby still insists.”

She poked her finger into his chest. “Then grow a pair of balls and tell her no!”

“No. I won’t. But Neil can.” His eyebrow rose. “Did you know that? He could tell her no, but he hasn’t. Why not?”

She knew, but she wouldn’t admit it to him.

“You obviously don’t want me to be in your wedding. Have your fiancé kick me out.”

“How about you do the right thing?”

His face spread into a slow lazy grin. “I am doing the right thing.”

“Then quit.”

“Dance with me.”

She tried to sort it through in her head, but her mind was fuzzy from the alcohol. One dance and he’d quit the wedding. It seemed safe enough, even if the thought of dancing with him spread a pool of heat between her legs. She reached across the table and took a big gulp of her drink before turning back toward him. “Okay.”

He looked surprised by her easy acceptance. Maybe she should have negotiated for more.

He took her hand and interlaced their fingers as he pulled her away from the table. A distant part of her mind realized Libby and Megan and the brothers McMillan were gaping at them in surprise. Her hand tingled from Garrett’s touch, and she wondered what else he could make her feel. If it would be even half as good as it had been in the past. Based on her current reaction, she was sure it would be a thousand times better.

He tugged her around a booth and led her into a dark corner with two empty tables, giving them privacy from the rest of the patrons. He stopped and looked down into her eyes, making no move to touch her other than their still-linked hands.

“I thought we were going to dance,” she murmured, her gaze drifting to his lips.

He grinned. “We are, but not yet.”

“Why not?”

“It’s the middle of a song. I want my full dance.”

“So we’re just going to stand here and wait, looking like idiots?”

“No one can see us, Blair. I’m the only one who can see you right now, and I definitely don’t see an idiot.”

“Why are you doing this, Garrett?” Her voice hitched as she said it, and she just wanted to slap herself silly.

The song ended and a new one started, a nineties ballad with cheesy lyrics. Blair barely heard it. He took a step toward her, making her hyper-aware of how close they were.

His hand reached for her waist, slowly skimming her dress before coming to rest on the small of her back, his eyes holding hers. He stepped even closer, leaving barely an inch between them. Her skin tingled, and she automatically lifted her hand and rested it on his shirt. His chest rose and fell under her hand.

“Just a dance,” she whispered, his eyes captivating hers.

He smiled and pulled his other hand free from hers so he could rest it on the rise of her hip.

“Were you really scared to ask me out?”

His grin spread, and he leaned down toward her ear. “More than you could ever know,” he whispered. “You still scare me.”

“How do I scare you?”

Rather than answering, he lowered his face to the nape of her neck, his breath hot against her sensitive skin. Shivers shot down to her toes. She cupped the back of his neck, her breath coming in short pants.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are in a deposition?” he asked, moving his mouth to her jaw, her breath fanning her cheek.

“No.” She could barely think, barely breathe—all she knew was that she needed him.

“You’re like a panther, slowly circling its prey, looking for any sign of weakness. And then when you strike . . .” His teeth skimmed her jaw, lightly nipping. “It’s so damn sexy.”

Her toes curled, and she pressed against him, trying to get closer.

“I want you.” He pulled her tighter to him, leaving her with no doubt of how much he meant the words. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone.” His mouth hovered over hers.

She could smell beer on his breath, and she was sure he could smell the whiskey on hers, yet he didn’t kiss her . . . and it was driving her crazy.

“I’ve tried so hard to forget you, but you’re burned into my brain, imprinted on my heart.” He placed kisses at the corners of her mouth, and her body felt more alive than ever before, each nerve ending pinging and begging for release. “Give me another chance, Blair. We’ll get it right this time.”

She turned her head, trying to capture his mouth, but he lifted it millimeters from hers. “Garrett,” she pleaded, and he groaned, drawing her lower lip between his teeth and nipping lightly. She tugged on his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he resisted.

“You are the sexiest woman I have ever met, and I want you, Blair. I need you.”

She rose on her tiptoes and captured his mouth, and he released a deep groan, his kiss devouring her. He pressed her back against the wall, one hand skimming up her waist and to her breast. His thumb brushed her nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through her, and she wrapped her leg around his and pulled his erection tighter against her.

“Blair. Wait. Stop.” He pulled back, his chest rising and falling, his eyes hooded with desire.

Her back was still against the wall, her hands on his chest, as the horror of what she’d just done washed over her. She tried to break loose, but he held her still.

“I’m sorry. Just listen to me.”

Everything had a weakness. With enough pressure, even the hardest metal bent and twisted. Garrett Lowry was hers. She’d been drawn to him, coaxed to the edge of surrender. She had completely lost control. And Blair could not afford to lose control.

Panic raged through her like wildfire. “I have to go.”

His hands held her waist. “It’s okay, Blazer. We’ll figure this out together.”

The song ended, and her eyes flew open. “One dance. You said one dance and you’d quit the wedding.”

“Blair, I love you, and I think you love me too. But I’m damn sure he doesn’t love you.”

She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

“Do you love him? Tell me that you love him.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Garrett.”

“How can you marry him if you don’t love him?”

She shoved against him. “I have to leave.”

He held on tighter, his eyes begging her to listen. “How can you deny this thing between us?”

She wanted him so much it hurt, but she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t take such a risk. “It’s not real, Garrett. If it were real, we would have lasted the first time.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not true.”

“It is. You do what I do, so you see the same parade of people. They flow into your office too. They all loved each other once—most of them were head over heels when they married. Hate is the opposite of love, Garrett, and only a fine line separates them. One minute you’re in love and the next . . .” Her voice broke. “We love each other too much. We would destroy each other.”

“You don’t know that! We don’t know that we’ll break up.”

Sadness filled her with an ache that made it difficult to breathe. “But we don’t know that we won’t.”

His eyes hardened. “The Blair Myers I knew never ran from anything.”

“You already told me this morning that I do. Why should it come as such a surprise now?” She jerked free from his hold and took a step to the side. “I can’t risk it. I’m marrying Neil.”

“You’re really going to throw us away?” he demanded in disbelief.

“There is no us! We were done five years ago!”

He shook his head, anger burning in his eyes.

“I gave you a dance. Now call your grandmother and tell her you’re not in the wedding.”

His jaw tensed. “No. There was no deal.”

Her mouth dropped. “What are you talking about?”

“I only asked you to dance with me. I never agreed to bow out of the wedding in exchange. You concocted that one. I just didn’t correct you.”

Rage rushed through her. She shoved at his shoulders, but he barely budged. “You bastard! Why are you doing this to me?”

His eyes were wild. “Because I love you, Blair. I love you, and I can’t let you marry him.”

“You can’t?” she shouted, her voice drowned out by the music overhead. “When did you get the power to allow me anything?”

“Dammit! That’s not what I meant!”

His hold loosened, and she gave him another shove. He stumbled back several steps, and she bolted for her friends, panic making her clumsy.

Megan spotted her first, and she slid off her stool and rushed toward her. Libby’s eyes widened in concern and she followed.

“Blair?”

“I have to go.” She grabbed her purse from her chair as she passed it.

“Okay.” Both women flanked her as she hurried for the door, leaving behind the McMillans.

When they reached the sidewalk, Libby grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Blair, slow down. Tell us why you’re crying.”

“I’m not crying!” But when she reached up to touch her face, her cheeks were wet.

“What happened?” Megan asked softly.

And that was what pushed her over the edge. Megan’s kindness. She couldn’t handle softness, not now. She choked on a sob but swallowed it back down. “I have to go.”

“We’ll go with you,” Megan said.

Blair glanced at the entrance to the bar. It surprised her that Garrett hadn’t followed her out. In truth, it disappointed her too. The thought sent a new wave of terror through her, and she felt the desperate need to be alone.

“No.” She took a deep breath, forcing all the escaped emotions back into the cracks from which they’d oozed. Only they wouldn’t go back. Now that they were loose, they refused to be tamed.

An empty cab turned the corner, and Blair flagged it down. She had to get away. She had to escape from her friends’ sympathy. It was unbearable.

The taxi stopped, and she opened the door, pausing only to glance back at her stunned friends. “I have to go. I’ll see you both tomorrow night.”

“Blair.”

Blair climbed into the car and shut the door.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

Where to, indeed. There was only one place on earth she wanted to be, and she wasn’t willing to take the risk. Which meant she had nowhere to go at all.

Chapter Twenty-One

Melissa took one look at Blair’s swollen eyes the next morning and brought her a cup of coffee, shutting the door behind her. Still, typical Melissa, she set the cup on her desk and ignored the elephant in the room. “The only thing on your schedule today is your consultation. Do you want to leave at noon and join Neil and his family?”

“No.” That was the very last thing she wanted to do. “I think I’ll stick around and work.”

Melissa nodded. “You’ll need to go home and change for the rehearsal. Do you have a dress picked out?”

“For the hoedown?” she snorted. “Yes.”

Melissa left without comment, and Blair got to work. She became so engrossed in her computer that she was caught off guard when Melissa buzzed to tell her that her consultation had arrived.

“Send her in.”

Blair hadn’t been expecting a young woman. Her clients were typically in their forties and fifties, but the woman entering her office had to be in her late twenties or early thirties.

Blair stood and walked around the desk. “Mrs. Cooper. Please, come in.” She met the woman in the middle of the room and held out her hand. “I’m Blair Hansen.”

“I expected you to be older,” the woman said, looking Blair up and down.

Blair smiled. “And I could say the same about you. How did you hear about me?”

“You represented my mother. She said you fought tooth and nail for her. When I suspected Thomas . . .” She paused. “I knew who I had to call.”

Blair motioned her toward her small conference table. “Thank you for the confidence. Why don’t we sit, and you can give me your side of things.”

The young woman told her story, and Blair took notes. In many ways, it was similar to her other cases. The couple had started out young and in love, but for the past several months, Leslie Cooper had suspected her husband of cheating on her. As Blair listened, a cold chill washed over her. Leslie was a beautiful, intelligent woman. Why would her husband cheat on her?

“So did you catch him?” Blair asked.

“No.”

Blair glanced up. “Do you know who he’s having an affair with?”

“No.”

Blair set down her pen. “What did he say when you confronted him?”

“He swears he didn’t do it. That he loves me.”

“So why do you think he’s lying?”

She looked sad. “He’s just so cold. So distant.”

“Is he working out more? Putting more care into his appearance?”

“No.” She looked confused. “No more than usual.”

“Is he having trouble at work?”

“Yeah, he has issues with his boss.”

Blair took a deep breath. “Leslie, I would be happy to represent you should it come to a divorce, but I think what you need is a private investigator or a marriage counselor.”

“But . . .”

“We’ll need names and some type of proof he’s cheated on you to build a stronger case. And if your only hint that he’s been unfaithful is that he’s acting distant, I suspect he’s merely preoccupied with the possibility of losing his job.”

Leslie looked surprised.

Blair rested a forearm on the table. “Do you still love him?”

Tears filled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Then fight for your marriage. Don’t give up on him so easily.” Like she’d done with Garrett five years ago. “But if you do find proof or you decide you still want a divorce, come back and I’ll help you in any way I can.”

“Thank you.” Relief washed over her face.

Blair watched her walk out of her office, and Melissa came in several minutes later. “Do you have a new client?”

“No. I told her to hire a private investigator or a marriage counselor.”

Her eyes widened. “The marriage counselor bit is new.”

She shrugged. “Her suspicions were flimsy. And she still loves him.”

Melissa moved toward the door, but instead of leaving, she surprised Blair by shutting the door and moving back toward her. “So you’re still getting married?”

Caught off guard, Blair looked up at her. “Well . . . yeah.”

Melissa grabbed the chair Leslie had used and moved it in front of Blair. Blair watched in silence as her assistant sat in front of her.

“Blair, we’ve been together for four years. I think I know you pretty well by now, wouldn’t you say?”

Blair sat rigid, wondering where Melissa was going with this. “Of course.”

She took a deep breath. “Sometimes the relationship you and I have is difficult.”

Pain twisted in her gut. “You don’t like working for me?”

“What?” Melissa asked in horror. “No! I love working for you. What I meant is that you’re my boss, but we’re also friends, so I sometimes struggle with knowing when not to cross that line.”

Blair nodded, her anxiety ratcheting up.

“But I decided to risk my relationship as your employee today to approach you as your friend.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think you should marry Neil. He doesn’t love you, so why does he want to marry you?”

Blair expected to feel anger, but she felt exhausted instead. “We love each other in our own way. I know you don’t understand. No one does, and I get it. It’s different. But let’s face it, I intimidate most men . . . and even those who aren’t afraid of me wouldn’t tolerate my schedule. Besides, I might not believe in happily ever after, but I think it will be nice to be married and have a partner for special events and vacations. Plus we both know it will help my job.”

“None of those are good reasons, Blair,” Melissa said bluntly. “What about love?”

“I’ve spent all night thinking this over. It’s simple. I can either go with emotion or with reason. Emotion is not to be trusted. At least I know what I’ll be getting with Neil.”

“Do you?” she asked. “Are you sure?”

Blair’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you say that?”

“He doesn’t like me, and while that sounds petty on my part, I don’t get why he sees me as a threat.”

“Surely you’ve misunderstood.”

“No. You know I don’t misunderstand.”

She was right. Melissa was excellent at reading people. “What else?”

“He hates Mr. Lowry.”

“Well, that’s to be expected. Even more so now.”

“I’m certain that he wants to marry you to hurt Mr. Lowry. I don’t trust him, Blair.”

She knew that had to be part of his motivation now, but he didn’t know Garrett was her ex-boyfriend until the shower, so that certainly hadn’t been his motivation to propose. She nodded. “Okay.”

“You’re not angry?”

Blair shook her head. “No. But I admit I probably wouldn’t have listened to you before now.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Your rehearsal’s in six hours.”

“I know. For now, we’ll leave it as it stands.”

Melissa stood and took several steps before turning around. “I know you want to keep your job, but don’t do this to save me. I couldn’t live with the guilt.” Then she walked out.

Blair sat there thinking about it. She had three choices. Marry Neil. Give Garrett a chance. Or be alone. If she chose one of the latter two, she would need to make sure Melissa was protected. But how could she do that without letting on that Ben Stuart had told her about her potential partnership and its unique conditions?

Five minutes later, she knocked on the door to human resources, but even as she did, she knew it was a mere formality. The door was always open, and Mary, the one-person department, was always welcoming.

“Blair! What are you doing here? You requested the day off for your wedding.”

She smiled. “Oh, you know work . . .”

Mary grinned. “I do. But don’t let the important things slip by.”

“Thanks, Mary. I’ll remember that.”

“So what can I do for you?”

“Um . . .” She’d worked up a story of sorts. “Neil got word that he might be offered a position in Dallas. Now, we’re not at all sure what decision he’d make, but I would go with him if he went.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh! I know they’d miss you around here. Why, Mr. Sisco Sr. himself was raving about you just last week.”

“Really? Mr. Sisco Jr. sat in on one of my depositions this week. I was worried they found my work unsatisfactory.”

She waved her hand. “Standard performance review. He didn’t tell you?”

“No.” Had Ben lied to her? But then again, the partners probably wouldn’t have informed Mary of their intentions. “So . . . if I were to move to Dallas with Neil, what would happen to Melissa?”

Mary smiled. “Oh, aren’t you a sweet girl. She’s a wonderful employee. We’d find a place for her.”

“So she wouldn’t lose her job?”

“Good heavens, no. Half the attorneys here would duke it out over who gets to work with her.”

“Thank you, Mary.” She turned to leave, then asked, “If it comes to that, promise me that you’ll make sure to put her with someone who will be good to her. Not Mark Garter. He’s an ass.” Her voice tightened. She couldn’t handle Melissa working for that jerk.

“Blair. You two are as thick as thieves. I know you care about her.” She lowered her voice. “I’d sooner quit than put her with Garter.”

“Thanks.”

So Melissa was covered. That only left herself. What the hell was she going to do?

Chapter Twenty-Two

At 6:05 p.m., Garrett stood in the Presbyterian Church, trying to swallow his nausea. Blair was sequestered in a corner with Libby and Megan, glancing around the church as she counted off who was missing. Neil stood nearby with a couple of his friends. He crossed his arms and shot Garrett a smug grin. The bruise on his cheek and under his eye gave Garrett minimal satisfaction.

Blair was still going through with it.

Noah had arrived with Josh and Megan, and Garrett had wondered why until Libby showed up a few minutes later holding hands with another man, presumably her boyfriend Mitch. He was bigger than Noah, a beefy-looking guy with oversized muscles, and he seemed protective of Libby. Garrett would have found it amusing if he weren’t so miserable. Of the two women in his acquaintance who least needed protection, Blair ranked first with Libby at a close second.

While the ladies pow-wowed near the church door, Mitch was hanging out with Josh and Noah. Given the amount of time Noah had spent with Libby over the past week, Garrett was surprised by the apparent lack of tension between the two men. Still, Noah didn’t look disappointed when Garrett pulled him into a side aisle so they could chat without being overheard. “Is Blair okay?” he said in an undertone. “Did Libby get a chance to talk to her?”

Noah just shook his head. “I don’t know. Blair never returned her or Megan’s calls. But she texted them around noon to say she was fine and that they should come to the rehearsal.”

Garrett ran his hand through his hair. “I screwed up last night.”

“Libby’s not so sure about that. But it was a gamble.” He clapped a hand on his back. “Hey, she’s not married yet. You still have about twenty-four hours.”

True, but while they were talking, Blair and Neil had walked up to the altar and started talking to the minister who was scheduled to marry them the next afternoon. The sight didn’t fill him with a lot of confidence.

Blair looked over her shoulder, and Garrett’s eyes met with hers. He expected to see anger or derision there, but instead he found sadness.

What was he going to do? He had to convince her not to make this colossal mistake. It was time to tell her about Layla, even though he knew it would be the kiss of death to any chance of a relationship between them. He just hoped she believed him.

Garrett’s parents had arrived, and his mom and his aunt wasted no time in picking a nothing argument. This time it was over the faded lines in the parking lot.

“You think I had control over that?” Aunt Debra demanded.

His mother gave her a haughty look. “Well, if this were Kelsey’s wedding, I’d make sure everything was perfect.”

“Oh, isn’t that something,” his aunt sniped. “Kelsey’s too busy putting the cart before the horse to even consider getting married.”

Garrett looked around the church for a glimpse of his sister. For once, he was grateful that she was notoriously late. Otherwise the bickering between his mom and his aunt would probably turn into an all-out brawl.

Everyone stood around, twittering anxiously over the argument until Nana Ruby finally stepped away from the back wall and whistled loud enough to get everyone’s attention.

“Debbie Sue and Barbara Mae! That’s enough!” Then his grandmother lasered him with a pointed gaze that let him know how disappointed she was that he hadn’t yet managed to steal his cousin’s bride. If he had succeeded, she wouldn’t have needed to tolerate this madness.

“Let’s get this started!” Nana Ruby shouted. “There’s a rack of ribs waiting for me.”

Aunt Debra cringed. “We don’t have ribs. Just pulled pork and ham.”

“Well, what kind of barbeque is that?”

Garrett took his place at the front of the church, standing at the end of the wedding party, next to one of Neil’s fraternity brothers. His cousin Dena, Libby, and Megan all strolled down the aisle pretending to hold bouquets while a pianist played a classical piece.

“And then the music changes,” the minister said from his perch on the altar after all the bridesmaids had taken their places. “And the bride comes down the aisle.”

Blair stepped into the doorway, and while he’d already seen her today, she looked somehow different as she stood there in the threshold. She wore a fitted blue and white print dress, and her long, dark blonde hair fell in soft waves down her back and over her left shoulder. The V-neck of her dress dipped low enough to expose a small amount of her cleavage, and the hem hit just above her knee, exposing her shapely calves. He was sure she’d never looked more beautiful.

Garrett’s gaze was glued to her, and she stayed in place for a few heartbeats, as if trying to decide whether to turn around and run away. She glanced in his direction, and their eyes locked. Her lips parted, and her eyes filled with a softness that told him her iron-clad resolve was on the verge of weakening, that she wanted to walk down that aisle toward him one day, not Neil, but then she sucked in a breath, steeled her back, and started down the aisle.

She came to a stop beside Neil and looked up at the minister.

“Since you walked down the aisle alone,” the minister said, “I presume no one will be giving you away.”

Blair looked over her shoulder before returning her attention to the minister. “No. My mom is late, but she won’t be giving me away.”

“Blair’s too independent for that,” Neil added, only it sounded more like a dig at her character than a compliment. Or perhaps Garrett was too sensitive. But one glance at Libby confirmed he wasn’t alone in his opinion.

The minister continued. He had reached the vows part of the ceremony when Kelsey walked in through the back door. She took one look at Garrett and sighed. It was a relief to see her.

She walked down the aisle and sat in the front pew on the groom’s side of the church, eyeing Blair before returning her attention to Garrett. She pursed her lips and gave him a mischievous wink.

The minister explained when the rings would be exchanged, then smiled at the couple. “All that’s left is the kiss.”

Blair gave a forced smile, and Neil leaned in and planted a kiss on her that lasted several seconds.

The minister cleared his throat. “Now you two walk down the aisle together, and the bridal party will file out after you.”

Neil looped his arm through Blair’s, and they walked toward the back door as the groomsmen and bridesmaids paired up. Garrett was on the end, and when he walked down the steps, Kelsey cut in front of their cousin and grabbed his arm before Dena could.

“Good of you to join us, Kels.”

She grinned. “Traffic’s a bitch.” She leaned closer. “So the siren’s still going through with it, huh?”

He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t call her a siren.”

“She’s captured the attention of my man-whore brother. She must be.”

“Shh.” He looked around and pulled her into a pew, worried someone had overheard them, but no one seemed to be paying attention. “Where’s the baby?”

“Drake’s watching her at the hotel.”

“Drake?”

She shrugged with a frown. “I know. Drake’s so irresponsible he can barely be trusted with a goldfish. But he’s her father, and he’s threatening to sue for visitation rights. If I let him play house, maybe he’ll be too lazy to pursue it.”

Drake was a worthless piece of scum who happened to contribute his DNA to Kelsey’s baby. “You know I’ll help you with any kind of custody battle.”

“In California?” Her eyebrows lifted in a humorless smirk. “Besides, it’s for less than an hour. Drake’s bringing her to the picnic.”

He groaned. “Damn Aunt Debra. I hear she’s having a softball game too.”

Kelsey laughed. “Mom’ll love that. She only knew about the barbeque. It’s likely to cause a fight.”

“They’ve already had one that registered 6.5 on the Richter scale. And your ears must have been burning.”

She beamed. “I love being the center of attention. Tell me what they said.”

“Nope. That’s what you get for not being here to have my back.”

“Mom’ll tell me.”

Probably. His mother loved to complain about his aunt.

As if on cue, Aunt Debra leapt to her feet and approached the altar. “We’ll have to do it again. You didn’t practice lighting the unity candle.”

Blair headed back into the sanctuary, followed so closely by Neil it was a wonder he didn’t step on her shoes. “We’re not lighting a unity candle.”

Debra put her hands on her hips. “And why on earth not?”

Clearly gunning for a battle, Blair stopped in the middle of the aisle, her hands on her hips. “Because we chose not to have one.”

“How could you not have a unity candle?” his aunt asked, as though it were the most preposterous idea in the world. “Don’t you want your marriage to be unified?”

“Of course we want our marriage to be unified, but lighting a damn candle won’t make a bit of difference.”

Debra gasped and rushed over to her big purse, pulling out the cursing jar. One of the plastic ears had caved in, and the cat’s belly was bulging, presumably from all the money stuffed inside. “I can’t believe you cursed in the Lord’s house!” She held it out in front of her and shook it, causing the money to rattle around inside. “That’s five dollars!”

“What in God’s name is that?” Kelsey whispered.

“Aunt Debra at her best.”

Blair shook her head and pointed at the kitty. “I’m not putting five dollars in that damn jar!”

Debra gasped, her eyes flying wide. Her face turned red, and she spat out, “I’ve resigned myself to Neil marrying a foul-mouthed woman, but the least you could do is try to watch your tongue in church. Your mother should have raised you better.”

Blair’s body tensed, and Garrett dropped Kelsey’s arm and took an instinctual step forward. As protective as Blair had always been toward her mother, this was bound to end badly.

“Mom,” Neil warned.

“Why are you marrying her, Neil?” she demanded. “Why can’t you find a nice girl who will take care of you and give you babies?”

“Mom!”

“Where’s her mother, Neil? She couldn’t even bother to show up for her daughter’s rehearsal. If she were any kind of mother at all, she’d be here washing her daughter’s mouth out with soap.”

Blair took several steps toward the woman, her face frozen into one of her most intimidating looks. The older woman had the sense to take a step back.

Blair’s eyes were cold as ice. “You can say whatever you like about me, but don’t you dare talk about my mother in a derogatory manner ever again. Have I made myself clear?”

The woman nodded, her body shaking.

Blair spun around and stomped out of the sanctuary.

Neil clenched his fists. “If you ruin this for me, I’ll never forgive you, Mother.” Then he spun around and hurried out of the church. “Blair!”

Kelsey moved next to Garrett. “He loves her, Garrett,” she whispered. “You need to let this go.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Kels. He thinks the two of them are going to be some sort of power couple, and he’s already counting the future money he hopes she’ll make. Add to that the fact that she doesn’t require much of his time and attention and the reality that he’ll be taking the woman he knows I want, and he’s become like a rabid dog who won’t let go,” he snarled under his breath. “Love doesn’t compute in that equation at all.”

“What an ass.” Her words weren’t very loud, but they bounced around in the silent sanctuary.

Debra’s eyes narrowed. “Kelsey Lowry, you’re just as vile as that girl who’s trying to steal my boy.”

Kelsey laughed. “You don’t scare me, Aunt Debra. And if you don’t like Blair, then I know I’m gonna love her.”

“She’s lowlife trash, and I’m gonna put a stop to this.”

While Garrett appreciated her goal, he was livid over her assessment of Blair’s character. And he wasn’t the only one.

“Excuse me?” Libby demanded, stalking down the aisle toward the woman. “Did you just call Blair lowlife trash?” Her eyes were wild, and her hands had fisted at her side.

Megan rushed after her and put her hand on her shoulder. “Libs, she’s not worth it. Let’s go.”

Libby shook her off and gave Debra her full attention. “You have no idea what Blair’s been through. Her family had money until her father divorced her mother to marry one of his mistresses and left his family destitute.”

“I wasn’t even talking about her money. I was talking about her filthy mouth.” The older woman lifted her chin. “But if her father was a cheater, then all the more reason for Neil not to marry her. Cheating runs in her family’s blood.”

Megan gasped, and Libby’s eyes filled with rage.

“Are you kidding me?” Libby raged.

“Libby.” Garrett’s firm voice cut her off. “Go find Blair.”

She sucked in several short breaths as she continued to stare his aunt down.

“Come on, Libs. Don’t do this to Blair,” Megan said, grabbing Libby’s arm and tugging. “Garrett’s right. Let’s go find her.”

Mitch looked baffled as he watched the scene, but Noah knew exactly what to do. When Libby continued to refuse to let Megan drag her out of the church, he walked over to them and stared her down. Finally she let Megan turn her toward the door, and Noah murmured comforting words to her, coaxing her down the aisle. He looked back at Neil’s mother. “If Blair’s smart, she’ll run far and fast to get away from you.”

She gasped. “Well, I never . . .”

“Do you think she will?” Kelsey asked Garrett.

“Not a chance. Blair loves a good fight. She’ll marry him for the sake of pissing her off.”

Aunt Debra had probably made his mission ten times harder.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Blair paced back and forth in the parking lot, stomping her feet so hard her soles hurt. “I can not believe her.”

Neil leaned against the trunk of his car as he watched her. “Blair, I’m sorry.”

“Who the hell does she think she is?”

He stood and moved in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. “You have to know I don’t approve of what my mother said.”

She studied his face, where she saw undeniable frustration.

“Blair.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll tell her she can’t come to the wedding.”

Her brow rose as some of her anger faded. “You would do that?”

“For you? Yes.”

He wasn’t acting like himself again, which only caused her anxiety to rise. He’d been trying so hard to prove himself to her, but while that should relieve her fears, it was sending her into a near panic attack.

“I love you, Blair.” He sounded desperate. “You have to know that.” She gave him a tight smile, but she let him pull her into his arms. He stroked the back of her head. “I don’t want to lose you.”

If the situation were reversed, she knew she wouldn’t have pled with him like he was doing with her. Was that another sign she didn’t really love him, or was it just a character flaw?

“I know things with my family have been unbearable. I’m sure Garrett throwing himself at you hasn’t helped.”

She couldn’t handle discussing Garrett, but she had no trouble discussing Debra. She pulled loose. “How long have you known that she hates me?”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Okay, strongly dislikes me.”

He sighed.

“Lying serves no purpose, Neil. She made her feelings perfectly clear. I can only presume she’s felt this way all along. I only need you to confirm it.”

He leaned his ass against the trunk of the car. “She’s old-fashioned. I have no control over her behavior. Just like you had no control over your father’s.”

Anger burned in her chest. “Don’t you bring him into this.”

“Why not? Isn’t he part of the reason we’re standing here in the parking lot arguing instead of inside with our family and friends?”

She shot him a glare. “We’re out here arguing because of your mother’s bitter tongue.”

“And that’s our only problem? At least we only have to visit my mother from time to time. Your father is haunting us from his grave. Isn’t he part of the reason you’re so cold and unfeeling?”

She gasped.

“Deny it.”

She couldn’t. Everything he’d said was true.

“I know your faults, yet I’m still here.” He stood and moved closer to her. “Why can’t you just admit it? You need me.”

She shook her head.

“It’s not a weakness to need someone.”

He was wrong. It was the worst kind of weakness.

“I don’t need you, Neil. We have a relationship based on mutual respect and companionship. That’s all this has ever been. It’s all we’ve ever needed.”

He stared at her, anger darkening his eyes. “Sometimes you can be such a bitch, Blair.”

His words drew blood on her already aching psyche. She clenched her hands into fists and stared into his eyes. “You’ve just now figured that out? Where the hell have you been the last two years?”

They stood in silence. Anger rippled across his face.

“Maybe we should just call this all off,” she finally said.

“You’ve said you don’t need me, but that’s not entirely true, is it? If you don’t go through with this wedding, you’ll lose your job.” He took a step toward her and looked down at her with cold eyes. “So maybe you need me more than you think you do.” He stated it like a threat, and in that moment, she felt she really didn’t know him—that maybe this was her first sight of the real Neil.

“Go to fucking hell, Neil.”

He cursed under his breath and stomped over to his car. Then, without a backward glance, he got in, backed his car out of the parking space, and took off, his tires squealing on the pavement.

“Blair?” Megan called out her name, sounding panicked.

Her eyes sank closed. She loved Megan and Libby like the sisters she’d never had, but the last thing she could handle right now was their hovering and mothering. She spun around to face them as they strode toward her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m fine.”

“Like hell you are.” Libby looked furious, but Blair knew her friend’s anger wasn’t directed at her. Still, when Libby reached for her, she ducked her embrace and took several steps back.

“No.”

“Blair,” Megan pleaded. “Let us help you.”

“I don’t need any help!” Her shouts echoed in the parking lot, and the guests pouring out of the church could hear her hysterics. Her brewing panic was close to exploding, inflamed by the knowledge that she was about to make a spectacle of herself. “I have to get out of here.” She looked around. “Where’s my purse?”

Megan gave her a patient look. “We’ll get it. Or we can take you to get it.”

“Blair.” Garrett’s voice broke through the rest of the noise like a beacon, and then she saw him, making his way across the parking lot toward her.

She froze, tears burning her eyes, waiting for his pity or contempt, but neither of those emotions were apparent on his face or in his voice.

Her chest tightened, and she fought to catch her breath. “I have to get out of here,” she whispered raggedly.

“You need a ride?” he asked, walking past her two best friends. He glanced over at them, and they both nodded. “Let me take you.”

“You helped get me into this mess,” she choked past the lump in her throat.

His face softened. “I know. All the more reason for you to let me give you a ride.”

“This doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with you.”

He forced a smile and held his hands up in surrender. “I can live with that.” Then he motioned toward his car. She walked past him, opened the passenger door, and climbed in, knowing her friends would take care of her purse.

The driver’s door opened, and he settled into the seat and started the engine. “Where to?”

“Just drive.”

He did as she’d asked, driving toward the entrance to the parking lot. Blair heard Neil’s mother shouting her name, but both of them ignored her. She leaned her elbow on the door and rested her forehead in her hand.

Garrett drove for ten more minutes, then pulled into a parking lot and shut down the engine.

Blair’s head jerked up, and she started to laugh. “Chuck E. Cheese? Really?”

He shot her a grin. “It seemed somehow appropriate. Rumor has it I can get a beer here.”

“You’re going to need more than one to survive all the kids’ birthday parties.” She opened her car door and moved around to the back of the car.

Garrett met her there, still wearing his grin. “I like a challenge.”

“I’m not taking it easy on you in Skee-Ball, Lowry,” she said as she walked to the entrance, her mood lightening. This was the last place she was supposed to be and with the last person on earth she should be with, but it felt so completely right that she decided to just go with it.

“God, I should hope not.”

“I don’t have any money, so you’ll have to spot me.”

He grinned. “I’ve got you covered.”

He opened the door and followed her inside. The noise from the games and screaming children was deafening.

The teenager at the entrance gave them a strange look as he stamped their hands with invisible ink.

“I’m hungry,” Garrett said. “Let’s get a pizza.”

She shook her head and laughed as he ordered a pepperoni and mushroom pizza, two beers, and got a cup full of tokens. She picked up the number for their order and found a table for them, then walked to the edge of the arcade. “Are you going to give me half those tokens?”

“No way. You have to earn them.”

“I already said I wasn’t sleeping with you.”

A mother with a baby on her hip walked past them at just the wrong moment and gave her a disapproving glare.

“Look at you. You’re in Chuck E. Cheese for less than five minutes, and you’re already making friends,” Garrett laughed. “And I never said I wanted to sleep with you.”

He might not have said it, but they both knew it. Correction: they wanted to sleep with each other, and the electricity in the air between them still scared the shit out of her. The panic hit again, and she took big gulps of air.

Garrett put his hands on her shoulders and squatted down so they were face to face. “Blazer. I would never try to convince you to do anything you didn’t want to do. You know that, right?”

She nodded. The night they’d spent together in Phoenix was proof enough of that.

“I promise you that I won’t make any moves on you at all tonight. No pressure. Just fun, okay?”

She nodded again, still trying to catch her breath.

“Everything’s going to be okay. Forget about everything else—except that you claim you can beat my ass in Skee-Ball. But I’ve been practicing, so I’m about to give you a run for your money.” He handed her the cup of tokens, but he didn’t let go of it. “Time to show me what you’re made of, Myers.”

She narrowed her eyes, but a grin tugged at her lips. “It’s Hansen now, and it’s time for you to kiss your ass goodbye.”

They carried their beers with them and headed for the Skee-Ball game. True to his word, he beat her in their first round.

“Lucky break, Lowry,” she said, putting another token into the machine. “I was just warming up.”

He gave her an ornery grin. “Bring it.”

Two boys who looked to be around eight years old picked the two lanes next to Garrett.

Blair leaned forward. “You boys any good at this game?”

They gave her a wary look. “Kind of.”

Garrett picked up his beer cup and took a sip.

“See this guy here?” She motioned her thumb toward Garrett. “He thinks he’s some kind of Skee-Ball king, and he’s offered to give five tokens to any kid who can beat him.”

Garrett choked on his beer, and Blair burst out laughing. “What’s the matter, Lowry?” she asked, slapping him on the back. “Afraid of a little healthy competition?”

“No way,” he grinned. “I can take ’em.”

The two quickly made mincemeat out of Garrett, and word got out that some old guy who wasn’t very good was holding a Skee-Ball contest. A line formed, and he ran out of tokens within ten minutes.

“So much for your mad Skee-Ball skills,” Blair teased, leaning against the basketball shooting game with her arms crossed. “You should demand a refund from your instructor.”

He laughed. “I think he fled to Mexico.”

“I can see why.” She waggled her eyebrows. “How about a basketball challenge?”

“Depends on who’s asking. You or every kid in this building?”

“I’ll go easy on you. Just me.” She winked.

“We need more tokens.”

She tapped her foot. “Get your ass moving. I’m not getting any younger.”

She beat him on the first round, and he beat her on the second before word spread through the building that the old Skee-Ball loser had moved on to basketball. He had to fend off a horde of power-hungry children as they moved away from the game.

Garrett pointed to the table. “The pizza’s ready.”

“Likely story,” Blair said. “Admit it, you need some time to lick your wounds.”

His eyes turned wicked. “Something like that,” he said with a grin.

“Hey, guy.” A little girl tugged on his shirt. “I want to win five tokens too.”

Blair laughed. “Come on, Lowry. Can you really turn her down?”

Garrett groaned and snatched the plastic cup from Blair. He dug out five tokens and handed them to the girl. “Let’s just save us both some time.”

“That old guy just gave me some tokens!” she shouted as she ran away. A low rumble instantly spread through the crowd.

“Look what you started,” Garrett said.

The small hint of fear in his voice was enough to send Blair into a fit of hysterics. “I never told you to just hand them out.”

A group of kids had already surrounded him and pushed Blair to the side in their quest for free tokens.

“Hey, are you like Santa Claus?” a kid shouted.

“Naw, his belly’s big, but not big enough,” a boy told him.

“Hey!” Garrett protested, good-naturedly. “No tokens for you.”

Blair watched him handle the kids, passing out the coins as he took their teasing and dished it back in return. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. And then she remembered. It had been with him.

Nostalgia swept through her, hot and sweet, reminding her that chemistry wasn’t the only thing she missed about their relationship. It was his good nature, his healthy competitive streak, his kindness and compassion, and his intelligence. And most of all, it was his ability to ground her. He had always been the one person who could help her calm down after a less-than-perfect test score or some tiff with her friends.

She missed him.

He grinned at her above the heads of the kids, and she realized Garrett Lowry was the whole package. Looks, brains, and personality. Besides, she would wager the kid who’d made the belly comment a whole cup of tokens that he was wrong. She’d felt his torso under her fingers the other night, and it was all muscle.

Garrett dumped the cup upside down and shook it. “I’m tapped out, guys. Go thug roll some other old dude.”

Blair laughed as he approached her.

“You were loving every minute of that, weren’t you?”

“Thug roll?” she teased. “Is that even a thing?”

He gave her a goofy grin. “Not everyone can be hip to the lingo. Don’t be a hater, Blair.”

They had almost reached their table when Blair saw the whack-a-mole game. “Oh, I’m not passing this one up.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a halt.

“I’m fresh out of coins.”

She pulled one out of her pocket. “Good thing I saved a couple.”

“You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Hey, can you blame me? You keep giving them all away.”

His smile faltered. “I should have saved some for you. I can get more.”

She shook her head and picked up the mallet, getting a good grip on it. “I had more fun watching you with the kids.”

“Whose head are you planning to whack?”

She drained the last of her beer and handed him the empty cup before placing her token in the machine and picking up the club. A mole popped up, and she smashed its head. “That’s Neil.” Another mole’s head rose, and she hit that one too. “Robert Sisco Sr.” And another. “Rob Sisco Jr.” She hit the empty hole even harder. “Jack-wipe.”

She continued to beat the moles, naming them all before she slew them. She named the last one Garrett.

“I guess I deserve that,” he murmured.

She put another coin in the machine and played another round, drawing a crowd of kids as she smashed the heads with more enthusiasm than in the first round. She clipped one on the side, and the mole’s head dented on the lip of the hole.

“Oops.”

Two of the other heads stopped popping up, presumably broken, and the game finally ended when the mallet shattered into three pieces. When she looked up, panting, he was staring at her, and it was enough to make her lose her breath all over again. He leaned against the machine, his beer in his hand and his eyes on her. A wave of heat washed through her, and she knew she wanted him. God help her if he tossed her away again, but she wanted him for as long as she could have him.

He grinned and stalked toward her, pushing through her fan club of admiring eight-year-old boys and lifted her hand into the air. “And there you have it, kids. The mole champion!”

The kids cheered as he led her to the table, hand in hand. Tingles raced along her skin where it was joined with his.

“I think I probably owe Chuck E. Cheese about two grand, but I guess you’ll have to cover that too. I’m probably the most expensive date in history.” She gave him a mischievous grin.

His eyes were hungry when they met hers. “Worth every damn penny.”

They sat across from each other and ate for a few minutes in silence before Blair said, “I never heard from my mom. And I don’t have my phone.”

“Do you want to call her?”

“I need to tell her what happened.”

“What did happen, Blair?”

She took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “I don’t think I’m getting married anymore.”

Relief swept across his face as he handed her his phone.

She punched in her mother’s number and typed in a quick text message telling her that she was fine and would call her later and explain, then she handed the phone back to Garrett. “Thanks.”

He took the phone and slid it back into his pocket. “Finish up. It’s almost time for our next stop.”

She fake groaned. “Dear God, please tell me we’re not going to the park for the softball game.”

He laughed, his eyes lighting up. “I’m not a masochist. I have something else in mind.”

She picked up another slice of pizza. “Should I be scared?”

“Terrified.”

She laughed again and took a bite, wondering how she could feel this content after all the ugliness of the day and her run-ins with Neil and his mother. For once, she decided not to question it.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Garrett couldn’t remember being this nervous on a date since high school. He wasn’t sure Blair really meant it when she’d called it a date, but he was going to pull out all the stops to prove to her that he still loved her and was worth the risk.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked as he led her out to the car.

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” He was surprised when she didn’t push him for an answer. She hated surprises.

After spontaneously asking her out on a date the other night, he’d done some research about where he wanted to take her if he managed to convince her to give him a chance. Now he was glad he’d done his homework.

He drove down to Brookside and parked his car, then walked around the car quick enough to help Blair out of it. He held her hand after shutting the passenger door, and his pulse picked up when her fingers curled gently around his. She looked up at him with parted lips and soft eyes. Some of her hard exterior seemed to have flaked away, which he found surprising after the scene at the church. This was his Blair, the Blair he’d uncovered years ago after months of patience. And here she was, the woman he’d longed for since that stupid night five years ago, and he cursed his impetuous announcement earlier that he wouldn’t touch her tonight. He wanted her to see that she was so much more to him than a roll in bed, although he desperately wanted that too. So he held onto her hand as he led her down the sidewalk to their next destination.

That afternoon he’d constructed a plan to convince Neil to break off the engagement. The legal papers were in the works, waiting for the final details. He figured he’d eliminate the Neil problem and then concentrate on winning Blair back. He knew it was a lot of money, but he didn’t care. He’d gladly give it up for her. Never in a million years had he expected he’d be spending the evening with her. He wasn’t about to screw it up.

He stopped outside the building’s entrance and looked into her eyes, seeking permission as the music streamed through the door.

“So we really are going to a piano bar?” she asked with a teasing glint in her eyes.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

They entered the dark bar that consisted of a baby grand piano in the back corner and about twenty tables spread throughout the room. It was still early on a Friday night, but the place was half full, and he had to lean into her ear so she could hear him. “Let’s go in the back.”

She nodded, and he moved his hand to the small of her back, amazed by how natural it felt, as if they hadn’t been apart for five years or even for five days. She sat on the bench seat along the wall, and Garrett had a moment of indecision as to whether he should sit by her or in the seat across from her. But she looked up at him expectantly and patted the seat beside her, making the decision for him. He slid in, grateful to be close to her, even if it made it a thousand times more difficult for him to keep his promise.

A man sat at the piano playing a Barry Manilow song. Blair looked up at Garrett and laughed. “I want to hear Billy Joel.” She gave his arm a shove. “Go request it.”

“I see some things never change. You’re as bossy as ever.”

“And you used to love it, if I recall.” A teasing glint filled her eyes.

Desire shot straight to his crotch. Damn. He knew what she was talking about and it wasn’t requesting songs in a piano bar.

Her eyelids lowered, and her grin turned sexy, but her voice still held a teasing tone when she said, “Now go request a Billy Joel song.”

He wasn’t going to be able to get up from the table if she kept this up. He forced himself to be playful. “Only if you promise to sing.”

“Ha! My singing hasn’t gotten any better since we were together.”

“Neither has mine. We can sing it together.”

“Then I’m going to need a drink first.”

“Deal.” He got up and wrote his song request on a piece of paper and stuck it in the glass bowl on the piano with a couple dollars.

He stood at the bar and ordered their drinks, watching her while he waited. She looked more relaxed and at peace than she had all week. What had happened between Blair and Neil in the parking lot? According to her, the wedding seemed to really be off this time. He hoped it was true, but he needed to put his insurance policy into place just in case.

He slid his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Neil’s number, and then typed out a text.

We need to talk. Omni Hotel. Room 678. 10:00 a.m. I’ll make it worth giving up Blair.

Neil still hadn’t answered by the time the bartender returned with their drinks, but if Garrett knew him at all, he would come. Still, he wouldn’t rest until this scenario had played out—until he knew there was no chance Blair was actually marrying the guy.

Blair glanced up at him and smiled. He was suddenly overwhelmed by his good fortune. He couldn’t believe he was here with her tonight, that he was possibly getting this second chance with her. Grinning, he carried the drinks back to their table. He handed her a glass as he sat down next to her.

She took a sip and looked amused. “Whiskey?”

“If I’m making you sing, I figure the least I can do is provide liquid courage. Beer didn’t seem to be enough.”

She laughed and glanced at his glass. “But you’re still drinking beer.”

“I’m less inhibited than you.”

Something flickered in her eyes, and he thought he’d lost her, but she grinned and took another sip. “What did you request?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “It’s a surprise.”

“Now I’m scared.”

“You should be. When he starts to play the song I requested, remember that you promised to sing.”

She laughed. “Now I’m really scared.”

He scooted closer to her on the upholstered bench, close enough that their thighs pressed together. He watched her face to see if she was bothered by the contact, but she rested her chin on her hand as she watched the pianist belt out a Britney Spears song.

It was still early, not quite nine o’clock, but the bar was already busy and more people were coming in the door. Blair was finishing her drink when the pianist pulled out a slip of paper and groaned after he read it. “Really?” he asked, looking up and searching the crowd. “‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel. Who requested this?”

Garrett grabbed Blair’s hand and lifted it into the air. She tried to pull loose, but he held on tight while he shouted, “She did!”

The pianist turned the spotlight on them. “Can’t you come up with something else? It’s such a cliché.”

Garrett put his arm around Blair’s shoulders, pulling her close as he squeezed. “It’s her favorite.”

The musician turned on his bench and played a few notes before stopping. “‘Piano Man’ is your favorite, huh?”

Blair glanced up at Garrett with a look that said he was going to pay for this later. She gave the entertainer a dazzling smile. “You have no idea.”

“Okay . . .” He shook his head, grinning. “I’ll only do this if you sing.”

Garrett held up his beer bottle in salute. “Oh, she plans on singing.”

The crowd broke into applause as the pianist started to play the first notes of the song. “I’m going to play a Billy Joel medley, so make sure you sing all the parts.”

“Oh, shit,” Blair said under her breath. “I don’t know many Billy Joel songs.”

He leaned into her ear. “Should have thought of that before you requested him.”

The pianist started singing the first lines of the song, and Blair joined in as best she could, stumbling over the words. But instead of getting irritated, she laughed and looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him for help.

He joined in, his arm still tight around her back, and she made no move to get away.

They sang the chorus, and then the pianist moved into “Only the Good Die Young.” Blair knew this one better, and she looked up into his face from time to time as both of them sang, laughing when they both stumbled over a line. The rest of the bar had joined in by the time the song merged into “Just the Way You Are.”

Blair’s smile faded, but she continued to sing, and Garrett picked up her hand and held it to his chest. He gave her a grin, and her playfulness returned. The entire bar was singing with them now and drowning them out.

When the song ended, the crowd burst into applause and someone shouted, “You’ve gotta kiss her, man!”

“They’re right, dude,” the piano player cajoled Garrett. “Give the crowd what they want.”

Blair’s back stiffened, but she searched his eyes, and her body softened. “Well?”

He lifted his free hand to her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed as he pressed his lips gently to hers. She leaned into him, and he fought the urge to deepen the kiss—a herculean task after the taste of her last night and considering how much he’d dreamed of doing more than this over the last week. Hell, the last several years. But Blair had never been a fan of public displays of affection, and he didn’t want to push her boundaries too far. Baby steps.

He lifted his face and searched her eyes while the crowd cheered and catcalled all around them. She smiled, her eyes lighting up. She looked happy, and his heart burst with joy at the knowledge that he’d played a part in that. His thumb brushed her cheekbone before he dropped his hand and captured hers again.

The pianist had moved on to a Keith Urban song, and the crowd’s attention moved on to someone else.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he was scared to move in case it would be just the jolt she needed to change her mind. But several minutes later, she turned and looked up at him, her eyes hooded. “Let’s go.”

He hesitated, worried that he’d gone too far and that she’d changed her mind about him. Worried that she’d run from him once they left the bar.

She got up, and he followed her out the door, ready for the debate of his life. But as soon they walked out into the summer night, she turned to him and pressed her lips to his. He froze for fear he’d ravage her in public.

When she pulled back, she looked up at him with her sexy eyes. “Take me to your hotel.”

He wondered how fast he could get there.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Blair Myers Hansen wasn’t impulsive. Every move was carefully thought out and executed. So on the surface, asking Garrett to take her to his room seemed impulsive. But she had no doubt that it was the best idea of her life.

She’d spent most of her time in the piano bar trying to talk herself out of it, but no argument had stuck. Ultimately, she believed Garrett’s account of their breakup. And if he hadn’t cheated on her and she was now single, what was keeping them apart?

The speed with which Garrett was ushering her down the sidewalk to his car was amusing. “It’s not a race, Garrett.”

“Says you,” he muttered, looking down at her shoes. “Can’t you go any faster?”

She laughed. “No. I’m not frolicking off to have sex with you. This isn’t some cheesy movie.”

“Then you aren’t properly motivated.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her into an alley. He pushed her back against the brick wall and kissed her roughly, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her to him. When he lifted his head, he looked down at her panting. “Did that help?”

She was grateful the wall was at her back to hold her up. “What was the question?”

He kissed her again, and she clung to him, pulling him flush against her.

Garrett backed away. “If we don’t stop, I’ll have to ask you how you feel about sex in public, which was something I never considered before this moment.”

She grinned up at him. Oh, yes, she’d forgotten this part—the passion and the fun. “You’ve made me dizzy. I may walk even slower now.”

“Are you trying to manipulate me into carrying you?” A grin spread across his face. “Because I’ll do it.”

“Ha.” She laughed. “I suspect you’ve gone soft in the office. All those late hours working on briefs.”

“Remember when we worked on that group project for our Evidence class?” He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers down her back. “I still found time to work out then.”

“Sex doesn’t qualify as a workout, Garrett.”

He shot her a wicked look. “I think some of our sessions did.” He kissed her again, and her memories of their shared passion only made her hotter.

She pushed him away. “Let’s go before we get arrested for public indecency.”

He laughed and stepped away from her, snagging her hand in his. She was amazed by how familiar he still felt, how right.

Soon they were in his car, en route to his hotel, and even though they didn’t talk, she didn’t feel awkward. When he pulled up to the valet, he got out and met her on the other side, grabbing her hand to help her out of the car.

“Nice hotel,” she murmured as they crossed the lobby.

He looked down at her with hooded eyes. “I hadn’t noticed.” He pushed the elevator call button and groaned when he saw it was on the eleventh floor. “I would consider the stairs, but those shoes of yours will never make it.”

“What’s the hurry?” she teased. “Afraid I’ll change my mind?”

Fear flickered in his eyes. “Yes.”

She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pressed her chest to his, and looked up into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, allowing an older couple out of the car. Garrett snaked his arm around her waist and held her close to him as he backed into the elevator, already lowering his face to hers.

She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth—a move she knew drove him crazy. He groaned, his hand sliding down over her ass and pulling her firmly against him. White-hot lust rushed through her, and she was suddenly beyond impatient to get to his room.

The elevator doors opened, and she heard voices. Garrett dropped his hand and lifted his head, but he kept her snugged against his chest as two other couples entered the car.

She turned to face the wall, embarrassed that they’d almost been caught. Prim and proper Blair Myers had never been so prim and proper with Garrett when it came to sex. He made her lose all reason. Was that a good thing or a bad one?

The elevator chimed again, and the doors opened. Garrett turned her around, ushered her into the hall, and led her to a room at the end of the hall.

She suddenly felt nervous as she followed him into the room, especially when he shut the door behind them. If she chose to do this, she knew it wouldn’t be just sex. It would mean entrusting him with her heart.

“Blair, turn around.”

She slowly spun to face him, expecting to see lust in his eyes. It surprised and disarmed her to see adoration instead. He closed the distance between them and rested his hands on her hips. “I love you, Blair. Let me prove it to you.”

Her back stiffened. “Don’t break my heart again, Garrett.”

He smiled. “I won’t. I swear. I’m yours.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Uncertainty flickered in her eyes, but she must have accepted his answer because she grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his mouth to hers. His resolve to hold back, to give her more time, evaporated. His lips and tongue devoured hers, while his hold on her hips tightened, pressing her against his growing erection.

His hand found the zipper on the back of her dress and tugged it down, sending the straps of her dress slipping off her shoulders.

She pulled her arms out of the sleeves so the top of her dress pooled at her waist, exposing her plain beige bra. She glanced down self-consciously. “I’m not wearing anything sexy.”

He tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. “You’re beautiful, Blair. You could wear an old, holey T-shirt covered with stains, and I’d still think so.”

She smiled and didn’t look away from his eyes as her fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt. She pushed it off his shoulders, her fingers trailing over his bare shoulders and arms. A bolt of desire shot through him, and he pushed her dress and panties over her hips and down to her feet, and then tugged her over to the bed and pulled down the covers.

He pulled her to his chest and kissed her, his hands roaming her body and stopping at the clasp of her bra. He quickly undid it and then slid the straps over her shoulders. He moved back, letting it drop to the floor as he took a step back to look at her.

She had his belt unfastened in seconds, but she got hung up on his button.

“You’re taking too long.” His hands tried to brush hers away, but she grinned and swatted them.

“Patience.”

He groaned. “I’ve waited five years for this. I’m done with being patient.” He took over and dropped his pants and underwear.

He reached for her, but she gave him a sexy smile and took a step back so she could sit on the bed. She slowly tumbled onto her back, her hair pooling around her on the sheets. This was Blair’s playful side—rarely released, but oh so beautiful to see. Then the look in her eye—that teasing glint—faded, replaced with raw need. He wanted to touch her, to give her the pleasure she needed from him, but he took a moment to enjoy the sight of her.

“I thought you were done with patience.”

“I could have a million years, and it wouldn’t be long enough.” He lay beside her and leaned over to capture her mouth with his as his hand roamed her body.

She reached for him, and he groaned as she circled his erection with her soft, lithe hand. He shifted so he could grab her wrist, then pinned it to the bed over her head. “I won’t last one minute if you keep that up.”

“Is that your final answer?” She laughed.

“Yes.” His mouth skimmed her neck, trailing kisses down her chest and brushing her nipple, causing her chest to rise and fall in rapid succession. His free hand slipped between her legs and into her folds. Her back arched, and her eyelids closed.

“This hardly seems fair,” she forced out as his tongue traced her areola. “You have me captive, and I can’t do anything to you.”

“You’re doing plenty to me just the way you are,” he said in a low growl, torn between taking his time getting reacquainted with her body and ravaging her. He moved his attention to her other breast as he plunged his finger inside her and rubbed her mound with the heel of his hand.

“Garrett.” Her voice was impatient as she squirmed underneath him.

“What do you want, Blair?”

“I want you, and I want you now.”

He tortured her for several seconds more, taking delight in her groans of frustration before he lifted his head to study her face, his hand moving in slow circles between her legs. “Are you on birth control?”

Her eyes flew open. “What?” But then the question seemed to sink in. “No. Please God, tell me you have a condom.”

He grinned, his hard-on aching as he studied her swollen lips and hooded eyes. “And if I said no?”

She grinned back. “You’d have to wear a pair of loose gym shorts and a long T-shirt to the nearest pharmacy.”

He sat up and pulled a small box out of the drawer, opening the flap to remove a package. “Good thing I have this.”

“A new box,” she murmured.

He turned his attention to her, wondering what she would read into his next words. “I bought them for you.”

Her body tensed, and her eyes were guarded. “You thought you’d be having sex with me?”

“Honestly, Blair? No. I only wanted you to give me a chance. I never expected that we’d be doing this. Hoped? God, yes.” He leaned over her, placing a soft kiss on her full lips and resisting the urge to devour them. He looked into her eyes. “I hoped I’d have the chance again, because there’s never been anyone like you. Every other experience I’ve had has been hollow and empty. It has only made it alarmingly clear what I really need.” He kissed her gently again. “I need you.”

She reached up and kissed him with a fire that consumed him, and then pulled away to take a package out of the box and rip it open. Just the feeling of her rolling it over his erection was about to do him in. “I need you too,” she finally said.

He rested his elbow next to her head, kissing her while his hand skimmed between her breasts, slowly glided down her abdomen, and ended up between her legs once more. Within seconds she moaned and lifted her hips to him.

“Garrett.”

“Not yet,” he murmured against her lips, moving his mouth over her jaw and down to her neck.

“I thought you were impatient.”

“I was impatient to touch you.”

His mouth found her breast again, his tongue and teeth making her squirm.

She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Now I’m impatient. I want you now, Garrett.”

He sat up and moved between her legs, getting to his knees. Lifting her ankle behind his back, he looked down at her, appreciated the beautiful strong lines of her body. “I’ll give you anything, Blair. You only have to ask.” Then he entered her in one stroke as she arched up to take him in.

Her eyes sank shut, and her chest rose. He reached for her breast, his thumb softly brushing her nipple, reveling in the way she writhed beneath him. When he pulled back and entered her again, she lifted her other leg and locked her ankles, clinging to him.

She reached for him, but he laced his fingers with hers and placed her hands on either side of her head as he leaned over her, pushing deeper. He kissed her deeply, his tongue mimicking his thrusts.

As soon as he felt her tighten around him, he shifted slightly, eliciting a soft cry from her. He moved his mouth next to her ear as he released one of her hands and tilted her pelvis up, concentrating on her needs, wanting more than anything to push her over the edge. She arched up again and released a low guttural sound before moaning his name.

The sound of his name on her lips, like this, was his undoing. He plunged into her harder, needing to get deeper. Her hands grabbed his ass, helping him with his goal. He rocked against her, and she came again, and her soft sounds as she tightened around him pushed him over the edge. He pushed into her with several more grunts before collapsing on top of her. He could make love to her from now until forever, and he would never have enough of her.

She moved beneath him. Realizing he was crushing her, he rolled to his side, taking her with him.

For a moment she didn’t say anything, and he worried she was feeling regret, but then she opened her eyes and stared at him with amazement. “I don’t remember it being that good.”

“It’s only going to get better.”

Uncertainty filled her eyes, so he kissed her. At first it was just to show her he wasn’t going anywhere, but with her naked body pressed against him, her leg still slung over his hip, he found himself getting hard again.

She laughed against his lips and leaned forward to rake her teeth over his lower lips. “Again?”

His hand moved to her breast, and he grinned. “Blazer, we’re only getting started.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Blair woke up to sunlight filtering through the cracks of the hotel room’s drapes. Today was her wedding day, and here she was in a tangle of sheets and limbs with another man.

Guilt practically choked her as she pushed up, letting the sheet pool at her waist.

“Blair?” Garrett’s voice was groggy with sleep as his arm tightened around her waist. “Come back.”

“I have to go.” The words were delivered in a wobbly voice, and he was instantly awake.

He bolted into a sitting position. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Tears burned her eyes. “I have to talk to Neil.”

His eyes flew open wider with alarm. “Why?”

“We’re still engaged, Garrett. Him calling me a bitch and stomping off didn’t officially break us up.”

His jaw clenched, and his eyes turned dark. “He called you a bitch?”

She gave him a tight smile. “I probably deserved it.”

“I don’t think so. I want to talk to him too.”

She laughed softly. “Admitting that I’m turned on by you going slightly caveman seems wrong, especially since it theoretically sets women’s rights back a few decades.” She gave him a kiss. “But nevertheless, I don’t need you to talk to him. I’m perfectly capable of talking to him myself.”

He shook his head, his jaw set. “I don’t want you talking to him at all.”

“Garrett. A little caveman goes a long way. Now is not the time for jealousy.”

“It’s not jealousy, Blair.” He swallowed and picked up her hand in his. “He doesn’t love you. I’m worried he’ll do something to hurt you.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “Neil would never hit me.”

“There are other types of pain besides physical violence.”

She narrowed her eyes. What did he know that he wasn’t telling her? “Garrett, I still have a wedding scheduled for five o’clock this evening. I have to deal with this situation.”

“But you’re not still marrying him, right?”

She gestured to the mussed covers. “After this? I would never have slept with you if I still intended to marry Neil.”

His eyes closed, and his shoulders sank. “Thank God.”

“You really thought I’d go back to him?” she asked in disbelief.

His eyelids flew open, and he gave her a wry smile. “No, but I just got you back.” He picked up her left hand and twisted the ring on her finger. “And you’re still wearing his ring.”

Oh, God. She was. Did that make her a cheater after all?

“I’d like to think of it as you wearing my ring.”

Her gaze lifted to his, confusion in her eyes.

“My mother is the eldest daughter. Legally, the ring belongs to my mother. Not Aunt Debra.”

“It’s an engagement ring, Garrett.”

His eyes searched hers as his fingers tightened on the band. “I know, and I’ll get you another one if you’d like. One that’s more like you.” He clambered around her and off the bed, and then dropped to one knee beside her. “Blair, I love you, and I don’t want to spend another day without you. Marry me.”

She grinned. “Did you seriously just propose to me on one knee—naked?”

He lifted his shoulder and smirked. “Full disclosure. Literally.”

Her smile fell. He was serious. “Garrett . . .”

He rose to sit on the side of the bed, then cradled the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his. His tongue parted her lips and ignited another fire of desire inside her. She had no doubt that she loved him, and no one had ever made her feel the way Garrett did, but . . .

She pushed against his chest, pulling back. “It’s so sudden. Where would we live? How would this work?”

He cupped her cheek, looking up into her eyes. “For once in your life, go with your heart, Blair. Not with your head.”

“But my job—”

“Fuck Sisco, Sisco, and Reece. Why would you want to work for them after the sexist stunt they pulled on you?”

“So I give up my job—and you just keep yours?”

“From what you said, if you’re not getting married tonight, you won’t have a job to give up.” He said it matter-of-factly, but not without sympathy.

Oh, God. He was right.

He held her hand. “I’ll quit mine too. We’ll both start over. I don’t care where we live, Blair. As long as it’s together.”

This was crazy. They had both changed in five years. They needed more time. But looking into his eyes now, she knew she could wait five minutes or five more years, and she’d still want the same thing. She’d want him.

For once she was going to listen to her heart.

“Yes.”

He tackled her onto the bed, capturing her mouth and showing her what she had to look forward to as his wife.

A half hour later, she lay in his arms with her head nestled against his chest. His fingers stroked her back, and she looked up at him. “Garrett, I still need to see to Neil.”

“Why don’t you just call him?”

She pushed up on one elbow. “I can’t end this on the phone. That’s nearly as bad as breaking up with someone in a text message.”

“I know, but it was worth a shot.” He grinned, but the expression faded quickly. “At least you’re seeing him with my ring now.”

She sat up and sighed. “I need to go home and change. But my car’s still at the church. And I have to find out who has my purse.”

He sat up, snatched his phone off the nightstand, and handed it to her. “I’ll drive you home, but why don’t you call him to set up a time? I’m sure there are arrangements that need to be canceled.”

She cringed, overwhelmed by the enormity of the task.

He smiled at her and gave her a kiss. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll help you. I’m sure Megan and Libby will help too.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He put the phone in her hand and stood. “I’ll go into the bathroom and give you some privacy, but come join me in the shower when you’re done.”

“Okay.”

She watched him walk into the bathroom and shut the door. When she heard the water come on, she took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she placed the call.

“Where is she, Garrett?” Neil answered. The obvious hate in his voice caught Blair off guard.

“It’s not Garrett,” she said. “And I’m right here.”

“Blair.” His tone softened. “God, I’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

He paused, and his voice was cold when he spoke again. “I’m sure you are, since you’re calling me at nine in the morning on our wedding day from your ex-boyfriend’s phone.”

She cringed but didn’t respond. It was deserved. “I need to see you, Neil.”

“It’s bad luck to see your groom on your wedding day.”

She rested her elbow on her knee and pressed her hand against her forehead. “Neil.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you.”

“Thank you.”

“You know I love you, Blair. If you need reassurance, and I’m sure you do after your . . . night—I’ll be more than happy to give it to you. Do you want me to come to the condo?”

“I’m not there.”

“I see.” He paused. “Can you come to my loft?”

Something in his voice sounded off, not that she blamed him. He was handling it better than she would have if their situations had been reversed. “I’d rather meet somewhere neutral.”

He was silent for several seconds. “Garrett’s staying at the Omni, and I know for a fact your car is still at the church. There’s a bakery a block away from the hotel, close enough for you to walk there. Can you be decent in a half hour?”

She cringed again, but she deserved that too. “Yes. I’ll meet you then.”

“I know you’re worried about sparing my feelings, but I fully expect you to show up in the dress you wore last night.” His voice broke. “So don’t worry about changing. I just want to see you. I can overlook what you’re wearing.”

“Neil,” she forced past the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s going to be fine, Blair. Just come see me.”

She hung up and set the phone on nightstand. It dinged, so she picked it back up.

There was a text on the screen from BD: The contract still needs some work. We’ll try to have it done in time.

She cringed when she realized she’d read a professional text. Then it dinged again, and a new one popped up.

That’s a lot of money to give up for a woman. I hope she’s worth it.

Was that text about her? What money was he giving up?

Garrett found her sitting on the bed when he got out of the shower. He pulled her up and into his arms, his body still damp.

“Blair? Are you okay? Did he—”

Her mouth twisted to the side. “He was more understanding than I would have been.” She paused, then looked into his eyes. “Why did you go to see Neil at his office?”

He swallowed. “I’m not sure what bullshit he told you, but from your reaction when I confirmed going there, it couldn’t have been good. But I promise you, I only went to find out if he really loved you.”

“And?”

His jaw tightened. “I was unsatisfied with his answers. Do you believe me?”

She wanted to ask about the texts too, but she worried she’d come across as defensive or snooping. Bottom line, she trusted him or she didn’t, and she wholeheartedly did. “Yes.”

He cradled her head to his chest. “So you and Neil are done?”

She pulled away to look at the clock on the nightstand. “No. I have to meet him in twenty minutes, and I still need a shower. I can’t meet him smelling like you.”

“If he knows, then you don’t need to see him.”

She slid off the bed. “I do. It’s the right thing to do.”

He stood up and stared into her eyes. “I love you, Blair. I’ll do anything I can to help you. Just tell me what you need.”

She shook her head. “This part I have to do alone. Then when I’m done, we’ll figure out the rest together.”

“You might not have to do it at all.”

Blair groaned. “I just told you that I did.”

“No. He might end it without you going.”

She narrowed her eyes. “I just talked to him on the phone, Garrett. He knows I called from your phone, and he very much still wants to get married.”

His face contorted with anger. “He’s up to something. Let me go with you.”

“I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

He looked torn, but he pulled her close and gave her a soft kiss. “Okay.”

She took a quick shower and dried her hair before putting on her dress. Garrett gave her privacy, but he was waiting for her when she emerged from the bathroom.

He pulled her into his arms. “Are you sure you want to do this? At least let me walk you there.”

She pushed him away and broke free. It didn’t feel right to let him hold her before she went to see Neil. “I don’t want to do it, but I need to do it. And I have to hurry, or I’m going to be late.”

Worry filled his eyes. “I wish you had your phone.”

A low laugh escaped her, and she forced a smile. “I’m walking all of a block to see a mild-mannered man. What do you think is going to happen to me? Physically, I’m perfectly safe. Emotionally, I deserve everything I’m going to get.”

“Blair. Don’t say that. You don’t deserve the stress he’s putting you through.”

“Why not? I knew I didn’t really love him. Not like this. The relationship wasn’t fair to him. And now we’re both paying the price.”

“Neil is hiding something from you. Something big.” Indecision flickered in his eyes. “Make him tell you what I found out when I went to see him.”

She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

He gave her a soft kiss. “You’re a good person, Blair. No matter what you believe right now. Make him confess, and you’ll realize you’ve made the right decision, even if you take me out of the equation.”

That sounded ominous. “What is he hiding, Garrett?”

He shook his head. “I want him to be the one to tell you.”

Five minutes later she made the walk of shame to the bakery and found Neil sitting at a table, two cups of coffee in front of him.

He stood when he saw her, wariness in his eyes. “You came.”

“I said I would.”

He gave her a soft smile. “You’re a woman of your word. I’ve always loved that about you.”

She sat in the chair across from him. He sat back down and slid one of the cups toward her. “I got you a vanilla latte. No whip. Just the way you like it.”

She grasped the cup with a shaking hand. She wished she were more confident, but was that a positive character trait when you dumped your fiancé on your wedding day? “Thank you.”

“I know that about you,” he said in a low voice. “Just like I know you hate wearing socks in the winter, and you like to eat mac and cheese with a spoon instead of a fork.”

She swallowed, fighting back tears. “Neil.”

He leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “We’ve been together for two years now, Blair. That’s more time than you spent with him.”

She looked up at him. “But I don’t love you.”

“You keep telling me that, but I think you’ve confused love with lust.” He shook his head, his eyes pleading with her. “Remember when I had the flu last year? You took off work and stayed at my loft for three days to take care of me. That’s love. And when you pick up those cheese crackers at Trader Joe’s, just because you know I love them—that’s love.”

“Neil.”

He shook his head. “No, Blair, it’s true. What you had with Garrett last night is lust, and lust fades,” he said. “Where will you be when that happens?”

Her cheeks burned with shame.

“Darling, I understand that you got scared last night. Especially after my mother’s tirade and my temper. I don’t blame you for running off, and I’m not surprised Garrett took advantage of your vulnerability.”

She thought about telling him he ran off before she did, but there was no point. Still, there was no way she’d allow him to treat her like she was a biddable and naïve woman incapable of making her own decisions. “Garrett didn’t take advantage of me. I’m a grown woman. I made my own choice.”

“I called you a terrible name. I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But Garrett saw an opportunity and took it. He’s an opportunist.”

She remained silent, telling herself it was pointless to argue with him.

“What about your job, Blair? If we don’t get married, you’re going to be fired.”

“I know.”

His face turned red, and he took several deep breaths before continuing. “So you’re going throw everything away after one night with the man who broke your heart? You’re going to regret this decision when he leaves you for some other woman. And we both know he will.”

He was giving voice to the fears that niggled at the back of her brain. But the night she’d spent with Garrett had only pointed out all the inadequacies of her relationship with Neil. Deep down she’d always known she was settling, and now she had the proof.

“Blair. I still love you,” Neil pleaded, tears in his eyes. “I’m begging you to think this through. I can’t stand back and let him do this to you.” He paused, his eyes searching hers. “I’m willing to overlook your indiscretion. I understand why you did it, and I forgive you. I still want to marry you today.”

She groaned. “How can you say that? I wouldn’t be so understanding if it were the other way around. I’d be handing you your ass on a platter.”

“I know. It only proves how much I love you.”

“I can’t marry you, Neil.”

He took a breath and looked at her with eyes full of understanding. “Darling, don’t make a decision of this magnitude based on one night with a man who is determined to break us up. How can you be sure that this isn’t part of his plan?”

“He wouldn’t do that.” She pushed on. “In fact, Garrett said you’re hiding something from me.”

He paused. “What exactly did he say?”

“He said you were hiding something big.”

Neil paused and then shook his head. “If he’s talking about Layla, that’s his story to tell. I won’t hurt you that way.” When she started to protest, he said, “You’re still wearing my ring.”

She glanced down at her hand. This ring had been nothing but trouble. She’d gladly take it off and give it to Neil, but according to Garrett, it belonged to him, not Neil. Which meant it wasn’t hers to return.

“Why are you still wearing the ring, Blair? Why not just take it off and give it to me?”

“I can’t.”

He grabbed her hand and held tight. “Because you really do love me, even if you can’t admit it. You still want to marry me.”

“Garrett says the ring is his.”

“And yet you’re still wearing it.” His tone was harsh.

She took a deep breath, her voice wavering. “I’m sorry.”

“He asked you to marry him and you said yes? After one night?”

She cringed. “Yes.”

His face reddened, his hand holding hers tighter. “You made me wait months to propose—you said you weren’t ready. Yet you accept his proposal after one night?”

“Neil.” Her voice broke. She might not love him, but it still killed her to hurt him like this. “I’m sorry.”

He released her hand and sat back in his chair, staring out the window for several seconds before pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and gave her a soft smile. “All I want is for you to be happy. If this is what you want, you have my blessing. You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then I wish you the very best. Both of you.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“Don’t look so surprised. I care about you . . . and despite everything, Garrett is my cousin. He’s family.”

There was no way he could be handling this so well. What was he up to?

“Why don’t you let me walk you back to his room, and we can sort this all out.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Was that why he was taking it so well? Did he want to go over to confront Garrett?

He grimaced. “Blair, this entire situation is incredibly awkward. Not only are we canceling a wedding, you’re planning to marry my cousin. The least you can do is help come up with some kind of story that will allow me to save face with my family.” When she didn’t answer, he added, “This affects Garrett too. If you really don’t care about how this is going to affect me, at least consider him.”

“I really think this is a terrible idea, Neil.”

“I’m trying to be the bigger person here, and I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. Are you really going to refuse me?”

He was right. This would be awkward. If they could come up with some kind of understanding now, it would go a long way toward keeping their family from being torn apart. Over her.

“Okay.” She looked into his face. “Thank you.” She still wasn’t certain it was the right decision, but she had to admit he was being reasonable. Still, she hated springing this on Garrett. She now wished she had brought his phone so she could warn him by calling the hotel room phone.

Neil stood and looked impatient as he waited for her, ushering her toward the door. “Thanks for being reasonable, Blair. I’m sure you’ll appreciate it later.”

She only hoped Garrett saw it that way.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Garrett had never been so nervous in his life. He knew Neil wouldn’t let Blair go without a fight, and Blair had gone to meet him without knowing everything. How stupid could he be? Now Neil could spin an elaborate web of lies, especially since Garrett had fed her that vague line about Neil’s secret. But Garrett just hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell her something that would hurt her . . . even though he wasn’t the perpetrator.

What bothered him even more was that Neil hadn’t returned his text. He’d been purposely vague in an attempt to pique his interest. Maybe Garrett had underestimated Neil’s intentions. But Blair was breaking up with Neil, which made it a moot point. So why didn’t that reassure him?

He’d turned on the TV to try and take his mind off his nerves, but he couldn’t quell his anxiety. Something told him that things were about to go very, very bad.

Dammit.

He walked over to the window and looked down at the street, eager for a glimpse of her.

She had only been gone for twenty minutes when a knock sounded at the door. He wondered why she was knocking if she had the room key. But she didn’t have a purse, so there was the possibility that things had gotten tense and she’d left it at the coffee shop.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Layla, the woman he’d found in Neil’s office.

“Garrett?” she asked, looking nervous.

“Uh . . . yeah . . .” He blinked.

“Can I come in?”

He blocked the entrance, still in shock. “What are you doing here? How’d you know how to find me?”

“Neil got your message.”

“So why are you here instead of Neil?”

“Can I come in?” Tears filled her eyes. “Please.”

He swung the door open, and she walked past him into the room, looking around and taking in the sight of the mussed bed.

Garrett stood at the still-open door. He didn’t feel comfortable with her in the room, and he definitely didn’t trust her or her motives. “Did Neil send you?”

“No.”

Why was she here? When he thought about it, Layla most likely had the same goal Garrett had—prevent the wedding. He still didn’t understand why it wasn’t Neil at his door instead of his girlfriend.

“Can you shut the door?”

He heaved out a breath and looked into the hall. “I think I’ll leave it open. Why don’t you just get to the point?”

She sat down on the bed and grasped her shaking hands.

“Look, if you’re upset about Neil marrying Blair, you don’t have to worry. She’s breaking up with him as we speak.”

She shook her head, a tear sliding down her cheek. “There’s something you have to know.”

“What?” She didn’t respond, and he wondered why she was there. The only reason he could come up with was that she wanted Neil to ditch Blair so she could have him. “Neil’s free now. Or he will be in a few minutes. You can run off and be together.”

“There’s more to it. Please. I think you’re the only one who can help me.” Tears streaked down her face. Garrett’s room was at the end of the hall, giving them a complete view all the way to the end. A door opened several rooms down, and a couple emerged into the hall. They looked down at the woman crying on his bed and gave him a dirty look.

With a groan, he shut the door. “Okay, you’re here. I’m listening. What do I need to know?”

“Neil’s not who you think he is.”

He released an annoyed grunt. “I’ve known the man for nearly thirty years, and I’m not a fan, so I’m not sure there’s anything you can tell me that will surprise me right now.”

She stood and moved toward him. “You seem like a nice man.”

“Layla, spit it out already. What do you want?”

She stopped in front of him. “I’ve met Blair before, you know.”

The very thought made him livid. “You mean at the hospital?”

“No. Before that. When she and Neil first started dating.”

His fists clenched. “Were you and Neil already having sex then?”

She looked up at him, defiance in her eyes. “It’s not like that. It’s not that crass.”

“Then what’s it like? Because he was going to marry her and have sex with you. Sounds pretty crass to me.”

“No. He only realized he loved me after he proposed to her.” She shrugged. “But he has to marry her so we can be together. She’s got a huge trust fund. After they’re married for a year, he can divorce her and get half her money.”

“Is that what he told you? You really bought that bullshit?” He shook his head in disgust. Could she really be that gullible? But then again, maybe that was part of her appeal. Neil had said he couldn’t stay with one woman long. So his choices made sense. Marry the respectable woman. Sleep with the not-so-bright ones, feed them a few lines to string them along, and then find a replacement mistress once the relationship had run its course. “There is no trust fund. Blair’s father left her and her mother penniless. He’s lying to you.”

Layla’s eyes widened, and fresh tears filled her eyes. “No. He wouldn’t do that.”

“He’s a doctor, Layla. Why would he need her money to be with you? Why not ditch her and marry you?”

“Why do you even like her?” Layla asked. “She’s such a cold bitch.”

He took a step back, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “I think you should go.”

“Why would Neil want to be with someone like that unless he wanted her money?”

“Layla, I can’t help you. You need to talk to Neil about this.”

“Do you know how they met?”

Why wasn’t she leaving? He’d given her the information she wanted, so why hadn’t she just left? But then again, she hadn’t actually told him what she wanted. “What does it matter? Layla, what do you want?”

“A guy from Blair’s office set them up. He told Neil that she was a hotshot lawyer on the rise with a multi-million-dollar trust fund. The rest is history.” She reached for the bottom of her shirt and tugged it over her head, revealing a purple bra.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She tossed her shirt onto the floor and moved toward him, unfastening her pants. “You think Neil’s stupid, but he’s actually very, very smart.”

He backed up toward the door. “I need you to leave.”

“Neil is much more calculating than most people give him credit for.” Her pants dropped to the floor next, and she backed him into the door, pressing her nearly naked body against him. All he felt was disgust and revulsion.

He moved away from her, heading into the middle of the room. “You need to go. Now.”

“Not yet.” She moved toward him. “I know you don’t believe it, but I know the trust fund exists. I love him, and we’ll be together soon enough. It’s just not time yet.”

He heard voices outside the door, and he froze in place as panic washed over him.

Layla put her arms around his neck and smiled. “Trust me. You’ll thank me for this later. She’s a bitch.” And then she kissed him, locking her fingers around his neck.

Garrett was trying to pry her off him when the door flung open. Garrett’s heart ripped open when he heard Blair’s gasp.

Layla leaned back and turned toward the door. “Garrett, why are those people in your room?”

Blair’s mouth dropped open, and she stumbled backward.

Garrett tore free of the clinging witch and shoved her aside. “Blair!”

She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. “You lying son of a bitch.”

“I didn’t do this, Blair. I swear. This is Neil’s doing.”

She shook her head again and flung her hand toward Layla, who stood in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but her bra and panties. “How can this be Neil’s doing? This looks like it’s all you, Garrett.”

He pointed at Neil, barely keeping his anger in check. “He sent her here! He’ll do anything to keep you.” He turned to Neil’s mistress, his eyes narrowing. “And as Layla just pointed out, he’s much more calculating than any of us had realized.”

“Layla?”

Oh. God. Somehow he had just made it worse. What had Neil told her?

Blair put her hands on her hips and turned her murderous gaze on Neil’s girlfriend. “You want him? You can have him.” She took a step closer. “But right now, you better get the hell out of my sight, or I might not be responsible for what I do.”

Layla’s eyes widened, then she scooped up her clothes off the floor and hurried out the door. She cast a worried glance to Neil on the way out. He gave her a slight nod before she ran down the hall.

But Blair missed their silent interaction because she’d turned her attention back to Garrett. “And you . . . you worthless, disgusting excuse for a man.”

“Blair,” he pleaded. “Please listen to me.”

Blair rushed toward him and shoved his chest. “There’s not one damn thing I want to hear from you. I’ve heard enough to last a lifetime.”

The pain in her eyes seized his heart, squeezing tight. How was he going to fix this? “It’s not how it looks.”

Contempt washed over her face. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard those exact same words from the couples filing into my office? Do you think I’m an idiot?” She released a harsh laugh. “Oh, wait. I think this proves you do. Screw stupid Blair—then laugh about it with your cheap girlfriend.”

She was killing him. “Blair.”

Neil put an arm around her shoulders, but she shoved it off. Garrett expected him to flinch from the rejection—instead, he grinned. “Blair, don’t listen to him. He screwed you last night, and he didn’t even wait for the hotel staff to change the sheets before he invited his girlfriend back over. I warned you that his room had a revolving door.”

Blair shook her head in disgust.

Garrett took a step toward her. “He’s doing this to get back at me, Blair. Layla’s Neil’s girlfriend. Not mine.”

She put her hands on her hips. “And she just happened to be half-naked in your room?”

“It’s not how it looks. I love you, Blair. You have to believe me. Nothing has changed that.”

She glared at him, her face wrinkling in disgust. “You’re right, Garrett. Nothing has changed. You’re still the lying, cheating bastard I thought you were five years ago. You’re not man enough to be in a relationship. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. Again.”

Neil put his hand on her arm. “Blair, let’s go. You need to rest before the wedding.”

She turned her gaze on him, venom in her eyes. “You think we’re still getting married?”

Neil rolled his eyes. “Of course we’re still getting married. Everything was fine until he showed up. Now that his true colors have shown through, there’s no reason we wouldn’t proceed with the wedding. Just like we planned.”

Blair looked at Garrett, and he watched as the anger on her face faded, replaced with dismay.

“I don’t know that woman, Blair. Neil sent her here to break us up.” Garrett’s voice cracked. “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to do shit.” She spun around and stomped down the hall. “I don’t ever want to see your sorry face again. Go to fucking hell!”

“Blair!” he shouted, trying to run after her.

Neil blocked his path and gave him a stone-cold smile. “I told you not to screw with me, Garrett. I warned you that I always win.”

Horror washed through him. “Oh, my God. You would hurt her like that to get back at me?”

Hate filled Neil’s eyes. “I put it together after we started dating. It wasn’t too hard. She went to the same law school you did, at the same time. She was dumped by a guy who slept his way through the school. So did you. It was a nice bonus, knowing I was seeing your old girlfriend. But then Nana insisted you come to the wedding, so I put an insurance policy in place to encourage her to keep our engagement. Just in case.”

Oh, God. “Your friend is the junior partner who told her about the potential partnership or firing. He made it all up.” He felt like he was going to throw up. “What the fuck, Neil?”

“Knowing how much she holds a grudge, I figured she’d castrate you on sight. But I had to make sure you wouldn’t screw this up for me, so I convinced Ben to tell Blair the story about the partnership. She holds her job sacred, so I knew that even if she were still attracted to you, she’d never act on it. She’d offer up her firstborn child to stay at her firm. I never thought she’d consider dumping her job for you.”

“Why are you trying to keep her so badly? Is this really all about you and me?”

“God, you really are a narcissist. Stealing something you want is a bonus. The thing I don’t understand is why you want her. She’s perfect for me. We’ll live our mostly separate lives, but we’ll both have the professional spouses we need. Do you know how hard it’s been to find someone as detached as her? I’m not about to let that go.”

Garret shook his head, speechless. Then he remembered his original plan. “I’ll give you Nana’s farm if you don’t marry her.”

Neil’s smile fell. “You can’t promise me that. It’s not yours to give.”

Garrett took a step toward him. “Nana told me she’s giving me the farm. The entire thing.”

“She’s giving it to you?” He spat in disgust. “I knew it.”

Garrett held up his hands. “But I’ll give it to you. Everything except the land with the house and the barn.”

Neil’s eyes narrowed. “You would give all that up for her?”

Garrett took a breath, trying to hide his relief that Neil was listening. “I’m in the process of having a contract drawn up.”

Neil studied him for a moment, then laughed. “That’s a good one. You think I’m going to fall for this bullshit?”

“It’s not bullshit. My friend is working on it now.”

“How convenient that it’s not ready yet. You think I’m just going to cancel the wedding on your word?”

“I’m telling you the truth, Neil.”

Confusion clouded his eyes. “You’d really give up millions to keep her?”

Garrett shot him a glare of contempt. “I would ask ‘wouldn’t you?’ but the fact we’re still discussing it speaks for itself.”

Neil rubbed his forehead, then looked up at Garrett, an ugly smile spreading across his face. “Okay. I’ll do it. But . . .” He paused for long enough for hope to bloom in Garrett’s heart. “You can’t have her either.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“If you can produce a contract before my wedding, I’ll sign and call it off. But you have to agree you won’t pursue her. The two of you are over.”

Garrett shook his head in disgust. “You idiot, I can’t put something like that in a contract.”

“I know.” He waved off the issue. “But you can prevent me from releasing indiscreet photos of Blair that could cost her not only this job, but kill her career.”

The blood rushed from Garrett’s head. “What photos?”

Neil smiled, but evil filled his eyes. “I have a tape and photos of Blair. Having sex. I’m sure she would hate to have those get out.”

Horror washed over Garrett. He could barely stand the thought of them having sex, let alone having it recorded for anyone to see. “Blair agreed to film a sex tape?”

Neil laughed. “Agreed? God no. But it shows her in several very compromising situations. And it’s very clear it’s her.”

Garrett shook his head, still in shock. “You would do that to her?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask me that, cousin. You really don’t know me.” He laughed. “But don’t worry. This setup.” His hand waved a circle around the room. “This pretty much makes sure you don’t stand a chance, but just in case . . . I have my insurance.”

“You really are a prick,” he spat in disgust.

Neil smirked. “Tell you what. I’m going to continue with the plan as it stands. But if you show up with a contract before I say I do, you have a deal.”

“You’re presuming Blair will still marry you.”

He grinned. “She will. Now that she’s lost you, her job is the only thing she has left.” Neil spun around and walked down the hall. “See you at the wedding.”

* * *

Blair stood in the lobby of Garrett’s hotel, trying to piece everything together. There was no denying there had been a half-naked woman in Garrett’s room. And there was no denying the horrified look in his eyes. The real question was who was Layla and why was she there?

And then there was the inexplicable fact that Neil really expected her to still marry him. Why was he acting so calm and rational? She’d be furious in his shoes, and she didn’t even love him. He claimed to love her, and yet he was acting like sleeping with his cousin was a crime on par with purchasing the wrong toilet paper brand.

But something else was nagging her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

She replayed their conversation in the bakery . . . and then it struck her like a bag full of bricks.

“Blair.” Neil called her name from across the lobby. She turned to face him, newly amazed by how collected he seemed after the ugly scene upstairs. But that’s what she’d wanted, right? Someone calm and rational.

Neil stopped in front of her and gently put his hand on her arm. “Are you okay, darling? I know that had to be humiliating.”

She cringed. “You have no idea.”

His face softened. “I meant what I said, Blair. I still want to marry you. I love you enough to overlook all of this.”

She shook her head. “I just don’t see how you can feel that way.”

“I’m not like you.”

“Thank God for that, right?” she asked dryly.

He placed a kiss on her mouth. “We’ll go through with the wedding to save your job. Then we’ll sort everything else out later. Okay?”

“That’s right, we’re going to save my job.” It was all she had left. Her gaze narrowed. “I want you to propose to me again.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I’ve heard another man’s proposal and accepted it since last night, Neil. You need to propose again.”

“Okay . . .” He took her hand in his. “Blair Hansen, you are perfect for me. Will you marry me?”

She smiled and took her hand from his. “I’ll see you at the wedding.” Then she turned and started for the door.

“But you don’t have your car. Don’t you want me to take you home?”

She looked back at him. “No. I have so much to do to prepare for the wedding. I want everything to be perfect.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Garrett Lowry was a desperate man. He’d spent an hour repeatedly calling and texting Blair until Megan finally answered and told him that Blair had never picked up her purse. She still didn’t have her phone.

The rest of the day was spent trying to get the contract for Neil put together, emailing documents back and forth between a law school friend who was a practicing estate law attorney in Missouri. But his heart was in his throat when he asked Nana to meet him in the hotel bar.

He sat at a table, nervously tapping his pen on the file sitting in front of him on the bistro table. As he watched her approach, hobbling toward him with her cane, he realized Neil might get his inheritance sooner than Garrett would like, and not just because he didn’t want his cousin to have possession. She was walking slower than ever. She had more wrinkles, and her eyes were deeper set than usual. She looked older than her years, and it scared him.

When she neared the table, he stood to help her with her seat, and she waved him off. “The day I can’t sit my ass in a chair is the day I’m checking into Sunnybrook Retirement Home.”

“I already told you I wouldn’t let that happen, Nana.”

She eased herself onto the chair and looked up at him as he sat across from her. “What are you going to do about it? Put me in your fancy California apartment?”

He shrugged. “I could move in with you.”

She laughed. “Claiming your inheritance before my body’s even cold.”

His eyes flew open. “No, Nana! I—”

She laughed again. “Relax, boy. I’m teasing ya. That’s not your style.” She shifted around in her chair, leaning her hand on her cane. “But from the way you look, I presume there’s still a wedding today.”

He sighed. “It’s a long story, but basically Neil tricked Blair into thinking I was about to sleep with another woman after she and I . . . had already gotten back together. She went to break things off with Neil, and he sent his girlfriend to my hotel room. She started stripping . . .”

“And Blair showed up?”

“Yeah, with Neil.”

“Aww . . . and he made sure to paint you as the devil incarnate.”

He didn’t respond. The answer was obvious.

“So did you invite me here to lick your wounds for ya? ’Cause you know that’s not my style.”

“No, Nana.” He swallowed. Jesus, this was hard. “I want to ask you for a favor.”

“Go on.”

“Neil is willing to be bought off.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“He’s agreed not to marry Blair if I’ll give him something in return.”

Sadness filled her eyes. “So you give him my land in exchange for canceling the wedding.”

He nodded, part of him dying inside.

“I thought that girl had some sense in her head. Why can’t she just tell him no?”

“She doesn’t know he’s been cheating on her.”

“Well, why not?”

“Uh . . .” he stammered. “It would hurt her. Badly. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.”

“The girl I met at that spectacle of a wedding shower was no wilting flower. She’s made of sterner stuff. She’s not going to fall to pieces if she finds out, so what were you thinking?”

She was right. God, he was an idiot. Ever since he’d found out, he’d danced with the idea of telling her, but the time had never seemed right, and he’d never managed to force out the words. “Obviously, I wasn’t.”

“So tell her before the wedding and be done with it. If she chooses to marry the fool, let her accept the consequences.”

“That’s not all, Nana. He has something else up his sleeve.”

“What?”

He grimaced. He hated to even think about Blair having sex with Neil, so the last thing he wanted to do was talk about it.

“Out with it, boy.”

“He has photos of them . . . in bed. He says he’ll make them public.”

“Sex photos?” She shook her head and gave him a look of disgust. “You kids these days. No sense whatsoever.” She put her hand on the table. “If she chose to take dirty pictures, then she shouldn’t be ashamed of ’em. Let her accept the consequences of that too.”

“That’s just it, Nana. She didn’t approve of the photos. She doesn’t even know they exist, and they could destroy her career.”

“So Neil is threatening to release them unless you sign over your inheritance?”

“Once he realized how far I was willing to go, yeah.”

Her eyes were blazing. “I take it you need me to sign something to make this nice and legal.”

He cringed. “Yes, ma’am.”

She sighed, looking even older. “Well, where is it?”

He slid the paper out from the file. What was he doing? He was asking his grandmother to sign her life’s work away to his maniacal cousin. And this was all his fault, because he was the one who’d spilled the beans about getting it all and setting the wheels in motion. “The document says I’m going to inherit everything except the house and the barn.”

“I told you that you’re going to get it all.”

“It’s safer this way. Give it to Kelsey. Then Neil has no chance at it.”

She peered into his face for a long moment, her gaze as penetrating and sharp as ever. “You’re really willing to give up everything for this woman?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do anything to protect her. Even if she never forgives me.”

She picked up the paper and ripped it into two.

“Nana!”

“I raised ya right, despite your mother’s influence. We’re going to make this right, but we’re not about to reward that ferret for his bad behavior. You’re going about it all wrong, boy. Time to draw up a new set of papers.”

He looked down at his phone, and his heart started racing. It was already three o’clock, and the wedding was at five. “I don’t know if there’s time.”

“You just get the papers and show up at the church. We’ll deal with the rest there.”

“And what will these new papers say?”

She grinned. “It’s time you learned from the master.”

* * *

Blair stood in the nursery of the First Presbyterian Church, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her wedding dress was on a hanger behind her. She’d never been like most girls, Megan and Libby included. She hadn’t thumbed through bridal magazines and picked flowers and wedding colors when she was in high school. Blair wasn’t a romantic kind of woman—at least not the capital “r” type of romantic many women went in for—yet she’d had some ideas of what her wedding would be like.

And this was so not it.

“Why are you doing this?” Megan pleaded for what had to be the millionth time. “Why are you marrying him?”

“I have my reasons.”

Her friends had been so dismayed when she called to tell them the wedding was still on, Libby most of all. In fact, she still hadn’t shown up. It was vaguely reminiscent of Megan’s wedding. Only Blair had been the hold-out then.

And Megan and Josh had been in love.

Blair sucked in a deep breath. “The wedding is in twenty minutes. I need to get dressed.”

“You don’t want to wait for Libby?” Megan asked in dismay.

“She’s not coming. Not that it matters.”

“How can you say that?”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Are you going to help me or not?”

The door opened, and Libby walked in, already wearing her red taffeta gown. “You should be in a Hallmark commercial. One for anti-romance.”

“Zip it, Libby,” Blair said, stomping over to her dress and pulling it off the hanger.

Megan grabbed her arm. “Blair! It’s obvious your heart’s not in this. And how could it be after your night with Garrett?”

Blair closed her eyes and fought tears. After the events of the morning, she was certain the relationship was unsalvageable. But she couldn’t let herself think about that now. “I don’t want to talk about Garrett.”

“It wasn’t how it looked, Blair,” Libby said in disgust. “If you would get off your self-righteous high horse, you might be able to see that.”

Blair sucked in a breath and turned to her. “You have to trust me, Libby. Can you please just trust me?”

Libby shook her head. “I’m here as your friend, because I love you, but this is without a doubt the single worst mistake of your life.”

“Libby!” Megan shouted.

“You know it’s true, Megs,” Libby shot back. “You’re just too busy trying to pretend everything is okay to point it out.”

“This is Blair’s decision. We have to respect it.”

Blair ripped off her robe and grabbed the waist of her dress and started to step into it.

“Blair,” Megan protested. “Let us help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I can do it by myself.”

She poked her right arm through the sleeve while Megan stood in front of her. “But you don’t have to do it yourself. Asking someone for help isn’t a weakness.”

If only people would stop telling her that. Blair shoved her other arm through the sleeve. “My mother taught me that depending on someone too much is a recipe for self-destruction. I will never make that mistake.” Again. She was dangerously close to losing it. Well, all she had to do was make it through the service. Then she could fall to pieces.

A familiar voice called out from behind her, “I hope that isn’t the only lesson I’ve taught you.”

Blair spun around and gasped. An attractive blonde woman stood in the doorway, worry filling her eyes. She looked like an older version of Blair. “Mom.”

Marla Hansen took several steps into the room. “Girls, I think I need a moment with my daughter.”

Megan and Libby shot each other a look and hurried out the door as Blair’s mother moved toward her.

“Oh, Blair. You’re as beautiful as a bride could be, but you look absolutely miserable.”

To Blair’s horror, she started to cry.

“You’re a difficult woman to find,” her mother teased. “No one knew where you were all afternoon.”

“I lost him, Mom.”

“Who?”

“Garrett Lowry. I found him again, and then I lost him.”

“Megan told me.” Her mother pulled her over to a sofa, then wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Do you love Garrett?”

She let out a sob. “Yes.”

“Then why are you marrying Neil?”

She sucked in a breath, trying to get control. “Because Garrett . . . There was a woman in his room this morning. Wearing only her bra and panties. Just like before. But Garrett was fully clothed, and he knew I was coming back to the room, so there was no way he was part of it. It didn’t matter. I wasted no time ripping him apart and blaming him.”

“Blair, that’s the reaction any woman would have had.”

She shook her head, crying harder. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes. I was beyond awful. I ripped his heart out. He begged me to believe him, and I didn’t.”

“So all you need to do is apologize and give him time. You don’t run into the arms of a man you don’t love.”

She shook her head.

“I did the same thing with your father, Blair, and all three of us were miserable. Don’t make the same mistake.”

Blair took a deep breath. “Neil is not a good person. I know that now. Maybe marrying him is what I deserve.”

“No. Blair.”

She stood and moved to the mirror, trying to reach around her back to zip up her dress. Her mother brushed her hand away and finished the job. She rested her chin on Blair’s shoulder, staring at their reflections in the mirror.

“You deserve love, Blair. I know you have a hard time believing it. You think your father’s rejection means you’re unlovable, but it’s not true. Libby and Megan love you unconditionally. Even Garrett Lowry is proof of that.”

Tears filled her eyes again. “I hurt him. I drove him away five years ago, and I just did it again. Maybe I’m not meant to be loved.”

“That’s bullshit if I ever heard it. Everyone deserves to be loved, Blair. Don’t give up on yourself. Not now. Not ever.”

Blair stared at her reflection. She might be wearing a wedding dress, but her red eyes and nose looked better suited to a commercial for seasonal allergy medication. She grabbed her veil and jammed the comb into her head. “I’m going to set things right.”

“By marrying Neil? I already told you—”

Blair stomped over to a table stacked with flowers and grabbed her bouquet. “You better take your seat. I’m ready to do this.”

“What?”

Blair looked into her mother’s eyes. “Trust me, Mom. I know what I’m doing.”

“I want you to be happy, Blair.”

To her irritation, she started to tear up yet again. “This is part of that plan, Mom. You know me—I always have a plan.”

Her mother cupped her cheek and searched her eyes for a long moment. Then she pulled back and said, “When you were a little girl, I always knew when you were up to something from the look in your eyes.” She kissed her cheek. “I trust you.”

Blair nodded, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

She walked to the door and flung it open, not surprised to see her two friends huddled outside. “The wedding’s still on. Get your bouquets.”

“But—!” Megan exclaimed.

“Let’s go.” She swept down the hall, her small train flowing behind her, until she reached the lobby of the church.

Melissa stood by the closed doors to the sanctuary. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Blair. “You aren’t supposed to be out here yet. People will see you. I’m supposed to call you, remember?”

“I didn’t want to wait.”

Melissa looked her up and down, worry in her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be better once this is over.”

“Blair, don’t—”

Blair put her hand on Melissa’s mouth. “Don’t you start.”

Melissa nodded, and Blair removed her hand. “Okay.”

“Let’s get this going immediately.”

“But we have four more minutes.”

Blair stomped her feet anxiously. “If I don’t do it now, I might lose my nerve.”

“Maybe you should listen to that inner voice, Blair,” Libby said from beside her.

“Good to see you two are joining me,” she snipped back.

Melissa looked flustered. “But people are still being seated.”

“Okay, two minutes. Then we go.”

Blair’s mother, who’d trailed her out of the lobby, kissed her cheek. “Be kind to yourself, Blair. Then you’re more likely to be kind to others. And stop lashing out at your friends. They only want to help you.”

Kindness wouldn’t help her now. She needed all her bluntness and all her anger. Her grief would ruin everything. But she nodded. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.”

As her mother entered the sanctuary, Megan and Libby shot her looks of disappointment as they waited. Every time they started to say something, she cut them off.

Finally, Melissa lined them up and cued the pianist to begin the wedding processional, and Dena came running from the church offices.

“No one told me it was time!” she said, her face puckered in irritation. “I don’t even have my bouquet.”

“You don’t need it,” Blair snapped.

“I’m not going without my flowers!”

Blair thrust her bouquet at Dena’s chest, and the woman scrambled to keep the flowers from falling. “Here. Now get going.” She gave Dena a little push toward the now-open doorway.

The woman stumbled several steps before recovering and then paused for long enough to shoot a glare over her shoulder.

Oh, if you think you hate me now, just wait.

“Blair, what’s going on?” Libby asked, her previous antagonistic attitude gone.

“I asked you to trust me. Can you do that?”

Libby searched her eyes. “Yeah. Why do I have a feeling this will be a wedding we’ll never forget?”

“Because you know me well.” She gave Libby’s arm a small push. “See you after.”

Libby started down the aisle wearing an ear-to-ear grin, leaving Blair alone with Megan and Melissa.

“Blair, I’m sorry,” Megan whispered, tears in her eyes. “I should have trusted you.”

“I’ve made some really stupid mistakes lately. I can see why you wouldn’t.” She smiled, her eyes filling with tears again. “Thanks for not giving up on me.”

“Never.” Megan gave her a kiss on her cheek.

“Megan,” Melissa whispered. “It’s time.”

Megan started down the aisle, and then it was just Blair and Melissa. “Melissa, no matter what happens tonight, I want you to know you still have a job at Sisco, Sisco, and Reece. I talked to Mary in HR, and she said the other attorneys would be lining up to work with you.”

“I’d rather stay with you. At least you believe in your cases. You’re trying to help those women.” She paused. “And you believe in me.”

“There’s more.” Blair grimaced. “I made some calls this afternoon. Ben Stuart lied about the partnership. But I still might not have a job after what I’m about to do.”

“You know I stand behind you no matter what.” The music changed, and Melissa smiled. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Time to raise some hell.”

Chapter Thirty

Nana Ruby had gone to the church with his aunt and mother. They’d fought over who was stuck taking her, so Nana told them they both got to ride with her in her old pickup truck. With the windows down.

At first Garrett’s friend wasn’t too thrilled by the prospect of drafting a brand-new document, but he changed his tune as soon as he heard the terms, which gave him a good maniacal laugh.

“I owe you, man,” Garrett said, rubbing his hand through his hair. He had just sent the document from his laptop to the printer in the hotel business center, and his heart was working double time. Would this actually work? “Seriously, send me a bill.”

“Nah, just make me the best man in your wedding to this girl and we’ll call it good. I’m happy to be an emissary for true love.”

“Let’s not put the cart before the horse.” Garrett sighed. “One step at a time.”

He hung up and pulled the three-page document off the printer, one page at a time, but the third page caused a paper jam. He tried—and failed—to open the printer. Panicked, he ran into the lobby and skidded to a halt at the front desk. “Can someone help me? The last page of this document is stuck in the printer, and I need it like five minutes ago.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. 4:30. Blair would be walking down the aisle in just half an hour.

The startled hotel employee looked him up and down. “Someone will come around to help you in about ten minutes, sir. We’re short-staffed.”

Garrett leaned over the counter, desperation filling his words. “You don’t understand. My entire future depends on that page. I need it to stop a wedding and save the bride-to-be from a terrible mistake.” He knew he sounded like a crazy person. He found he didn’t much care. He was a crazy person at this point.

“Oh, isn’t that romantic,” an older woman said behind him. “He’s trying to stop a wedding.”

“How’s that romantic?” a man grumbled. “He’s breaking up a wedding.”

“I bet he loves the girl.” She tapped Garrett on the shoulder. “Do you love the girl, young man?”

“Well, yeah . . .” he mumbled, then turned back to the bewildered desk clerk. “Please. Is there any way you can you send someone sooner?”

The elderly woman approached the desk. “Can you send someone? This boy is trying to win his woman.”

“With a paper?” the desk clerk asked, incredulous.

“Please,” Garrett begged. “Just trust me.”

The clerk shrugged. “Sorry. I don’t know anything about the printers, and the guy who does just left the building. But he should be back in less than ten minutes.”

“The wedding’s in twenty-five minutes.”

The older woman walked away from the desk, heading toward the busy lobby. “Excuse me,” she asked in a voice as loud as an umpire’s, “does anyone here know how to fix a printer? This young man is trying to stop a wedding and win his girl, but he needs a particular paper to do so, and the printer is jammed.”

The entire lobby, which had been buzzing with activity moments before, came to a halt. The guests and employees began to murmur as they all stared at him.

“Isn’t that sweet,” a woman gushed.

“Do you love her?” another woman asked.

“Yes,” he said, his face flushing. “I love her. Can anyone help me?”

A middle-aged man called out, “Why do you need the paper?”

Garrett put his hand on top of his head. “I just do.”

A woman hit the man on his chest, giving him a disapproving glare. “Roy! What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a logical question, Bev!”

She scowled and gave his arm a slight shove. “Give him your printer.”

“What?”

“Let him print off his paper thingamajiggy on your printer.” She glanced over at Garrett. “Roy has a portable printer in his bag here. He can set it up and print off your paper.”

“Thank God.” Garrett hurried over to the couple and watched as the man slowly pulled his printer from a bag and set it on a coffee table in the lobby.

The man glanced around. “I need an outlet.”

Garrett took the cord and plugged it in, then proceeded to watch the man set up the machine as slowly as humanly possible. A crowd gathered in a tight circle around them as he waited for the printer to warm up.

“Can I do anything to help?” Garret asked, running his hand through his hair and glancing up at the clock.

“What time is your wedding, dear?” Roy’s wife asked.

“At five. In fifteen minutes.”

“Look out. Get out of the way!” a man shouted as the crowd parted. He appeared in the opening, wearing a hotel uniform, and handed a paper to Garrett, gasping for breath. “I heard about your situation while I was standing in line at the bakery. Is this what you need?”

Had the desk clerk called him? Garrett didn’t care how he’d heard, only that he had what he needed. He snatched it from the man’s hand and scanned it. “Yes. Thank you!” Then he grabbed the man’s face and kissed his cheek. “Thank you!”

The employee grinned from ear to ear and blushed profusely as Garrett let him go and turned to the elderly gentleman who was still working on his printer. “Thanks for your help, Roy.”

“Go get ’er!” his wife shouted, punching her fist into the air.

It was only as he ran toward the front door that he realized he’d parked valet. He’d have to wait several minutes for them to get his car.

“I need a taxi,” he told the valet parking attendant.

“He’s about to stop a wedding!” a young woman shouted out to the employee. “Make it snappy!”

The employee glanced at his hand. “With a legal document?”

Garrett released a groan. “It’s a long story.”

The attendant shook his head, warily eyeing the papers. “I don’t know, dude. I’m not sure I should get involved.”

Realization washed over Garrett, and he held them closer to the man. “You don’t understand. I’m trying to save the bride. The groom is threatening her, and this will protect her.”

The attendant’s eyes widened. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He looked around the drive, a frown wrinkling his forehead. “It might take several minutes to get a taxi though.”

“I don’t have several minutes!” Why hadn’t he thought to have his car pulled out of the garage while he waited on the printer?

A hipster-looking guy in his twenties, a beanie cap on his head despite the August heat, tapped Garrett’s arm. “Where’s the wedding?”

“Uh . . .” Garrett shook his head. “The First Presbyterian Church.”

A murmur went through the group of twenty-some-odd people who had gathered around him.

“We can drop you off,” the young guy said. He turned to the woman next to him. “Can’t we?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! But I want to watch.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Garrett nodded and waved his arm. “Just get me there.”

“Let’s go,” the guy said, leading him out to a tiny compact car parked in front of the hotel. His female companion climbed into the back while Garrett slid into the passenger seat, his knees tucked under his chin. He was surprised to see a small crowd of people following them.

A young woman leaned into his open window, her eyes bright with excitement. “He said the First Presbyterian Church, right?”

“Yep!” Garrett’s new driver said, starting the car. “See you there.”

To Garrett’s horror, several people were hopping into the cars parked around them. “Oh, my God. Are those people following us?”

“Well, yeah,” the woman in the back said with a laugh, huddled over her phone. “You always hear about this kind of thing, but who ever gets to see it? Shoot, people are tweeting about it. There are hashtags even.”

“What?”

She laughed. “Yeah, there are two—#legalweddingcrasher and #fixtheprinterstopthewedding. The second’s kind of long, but it seems to have the most tweets. A hotel employee even tweeted that he was racing back from his break to help.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She laughed again. “You’re going viral. What’s your name?”

“Uh . . . Garrett. Why?”

She grinned, took a photo of him, and then started typing on her phone. “No reason.”

“Stop tweeting about me!” Garrett didn’t use Twitter much, but he dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up the app, trying to remember his password. He looked up at the road and didn’t recognize the route. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yeah, I grew up around here. We’re only about five minutes away.”

Garrett glanced at his phone. His worthless Twitter app was open, but it was unusable without the proper password. “It’s five minutes ’til. I should barely make it.” Neil would be up at the altar already. Since he thought Garrett had a contract that would guarantee him a few million dollars, Neil wouldn’t mind getting pulled away, but Nana Ruby had a part to play in this new scheme. How would he know where to find her?

“Oh,” the woman in the back murmured, sneaking a glance up at him. “They have a good point.”

“Who does? What are you talking about?”

“People think you look like shit. We need to clean you up if you’re going to crash a wedding.”

He let out a groan and looked down at his jeans and T-shirt. “I’ve spent an hour trying to hunt Blair down—”

She frowned and cringed. “Uh-uh. Don’t put it like that. You sound like a stalker.”

He shook his head. “And then I’ve spent the last three hours trying to draw up a legal document to get my cousin to agree not to marry my ex-girlfriend. I didn’t have time to change into my tux.”

“Wait. Tux?” the driver interrupted. “You’re in the wedding?”

“Was. My grandmother made me a groomsman, but after this morning, I doubt anyone wants me there.”

“What happened this morning?” the guy asked, leaning closer.

“Uh . . .” What was he doing? He was spilling his guts to complete strangers. He looked over his shoulder—and saw that the woman behind him was tweeting a play-by-play. He snatched the phone out of her hand and scanned the screen. When he saw the photo of him littering the stream—his eyes half closed and his mouth open, his body twisted at a weird angle as he leaned over Roy in the hotel lobby—he understood her previous comment.

“I took another one.” She grabbed the phone and swiped the screen. “Here.”

The new photo showed him sitting in the front seat, his eyes wide, making him look crazed. He wasn’t sure it was much better. “What are people saying?”

The woman beamed. “They love you. You’re a trending topic.”

Oh, shit. Blair was going to flip out. “You have to stop them.”

“Dude,” she laughed. “I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to—which I don’t. Helping something go viral is like my lifelong dream come true.”

“You need new life goals.”

She laughed again.

The car slowed down, and Garrett looked up to see a traffic jam. “Why’s everyone stopped?”

“If I had to guess . . .” The guy sat up straighter, then looked out his side window. “I think there’s a bunch of people going to the church.”

“Wait. All the guests they invited would already be parked.”

“Dude, you went viral. Don’t you get it? These people found out about it on social media.”

The blood rushed from his head. “All these people are going to Blair’s wedding?” he asked in horror.

“Of course not,” the guy laughed. “Some of these people are just driving. I guess about fifty percent are planning to go to the church.”

“I’ll find out,” the woman said, typing furiously on her phone. Seconds later cars started honking.

“Huh,” the guy said, twisting his mouth as he concentrated. “I’d say it’s more than fifty percent.”

The car came to a dead standstill. Based on the seemingly endless line of cars ahead of them, Garrett suspected they weren’t moving very far, very fast any time soon. “How far is the church from here?”

“Uh . . . about three blocks up and one to the left.”

Garrett opened his car door, holding the papers in his hand. “Thanks for the ride.” He looked at the woman in the back. “I think.”

“Go get ’er, Garrett!” the woman said with a wide grin.

He shut the door and walked around the front of the car to the sidewalk and started jogging. As he ran, people leaned out their car windows, shouting his name.

“It’s him!”

“Go, Garrett!”

“Get your woman!”

After two blocks, he glanced at his phone, horrified to see it was five o’clock. He still had two blocks to go. It was a hot and humid summer day, and he hadn’t dressed for a summer afternoon run. Perspiration beaded on his forehead, sending streams of sweat down the side of his face and his neck.

People were leaning out their windows, chanting his name.

“Garr-ett! Garr-ett!”

A teenage girl ran up to him and handed him a bottle of water, then jogged beside him for several paces. “What you’re doing is so romantic!”

Shit. Blair hated romance. Would she see it that way?

People were lined up on the sidewalk in front of the church, chanting his name. How in the hell had so many people heard about this in thirty minutes? He reached the top of the steps leading to the church and leaned over his legs to catch his breath. Then he looked at his phone. 5:10.

Dammit.

He was greeted with silence when he pushed opened the door leading to the foyer. Based on the rehearsal the night before, they probably hadn’t reached the wedding vows yet, but what if it was running fast? The double doors to the sanctuary were straight ahead.

Garrett sucked in a deep breath, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and pushed the sanctuary door open.

Blair stood at the altar next to Neil. She looked beautiful in her close-fitting lace dress, but her veil was crooked, and she wasn’t holding a bouquet. Neil stood next to her wearing his black tux and an arrogant smile that nauseated Garrett. Or that could have been the full bottle of water he’d gulped down as he ran. Probably both.

No one seemed to notice him except for Blair’s assistant, who was sitting in the back row. Her head turned, and her mouth dropped into an O, but otherwise she remained motionless.

Given all his recent bad luck, something must have finally turned his way. The minister turned to look around the church, his head jutting back in shock, and his eyes widening when he saw Garrett standing in the back of the aisle. His look of surprise quickly turned to concern as he uttered the line that every minister in every wedding had to be terrified to say.

“If any of you has a reason for why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

A loud, vehement chorus of “I object” rang out through the church, but the one that shocked him most was from the bride. And from the look of fury on her face, Neil had to be shitting his pants.

Chapter Thirty-One

Garrett took several steps down the aisle, but he stopped in his tracks when he realized Blair hadn’t noticed him yet. She’d turned her cold fury on Neil, and he wasn’t about to interrupt her. He wanted to see this. He slid into a pew to watch the show.

“Neil, I’ve dealt with many cheating, lying men over the past four years, but you are hands down the most despicable, pathetic excuse of a human being I’ve had the misfortune to meet.”

“Blair.” He reached toward her. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

She slapped his hand away. “I embarrassed myself by staying with you for the past two years. I embarrassed myself by agreeing to marry you. But I am not embarrassing myself right now. I’m finally taking control of a situation I’ve allowed to coast along for far too long.”

“Blair!” he grunted in a low voice. “Now is not the time to air our dirty laundry.”

She tilted her head, her eyes icy blue. “So when exactly is the best time, Neil? After the wedding? Should we have Reverend Baker speed this up so we can go to a private room and discuss in private how you’re cheating on me and have been since we met?”

The arrogance bled from his face.

“Oh, yeah. I know about Layla.” She turned, and her gaze scanned the crowd. “And isn’t that a surprise. She didn’t come to the wedding, even though Neil added his girlfriend’s name to the guest list to our wedding along with all his other co-workers.” She turned her attention to the groom. “That took a lot of fucking balls. Where’d you dig those up? Off a corpse in the hospital?”

The rattle of coins interrupted the silence. Debra stood, holding out the battered cat jar. “That’s five dollars, Blair.”

Blair slowly turned her cold gaze to Neil’s mother, the look in her eyes terrifying. The woman sank back onto the pew without uttering a word.

“I’m surprised Layla’s not here.” Her eyebrows rose in mock surprise. “You and I know it’s not because she’s shy,” Blair said in a coy voice. “She had no problem stripping to her underwear in Neil’s cousin’s hotel room this morning.”

Several people gasped, including Garrett’s own mother. He would have some explaining to do later.

“Little Layla must get around, because she was busy screwing Neil earlier in the week. I’m pretty damn sure you were too busy banging the nurse you worked with that you couldn’t be bothered to wonder why I didn’t come home Monday night.”

“Blair,” Neil pleaded.

She pointed her finger at him. “I’m just getting started with you.” She took a breath. “But I’m not here to talk about Layla. I’m here to honor Neil.”

“Blair. Stop this.”

She snatched the bouquet out of Megan’s hand and hit him in the chest, sending several roses flying. “You will be quiet. I’m talking right now.” He made a move toward the steps, and she whacked him again. “Don’t even think about it, asshole. I’m not done with you yet.”

His jaw set, and he looked furious.

“One would expect a man who has a girlfriend and a fiancée to be a man of confidence, and why not? He had the world by the tail, right? Yet he was so worried about his cousin coming to the wedding and stealing me away from him that he convinced his friend, a junior partner in my firm, to lie to me and tell me that my job at the firm was dependent on my wedding. If my wedding went perfectly, I’d make partner. But if I didn’t go through with the wedding, I would be fired.” She scanned the crowd until her gaze landed on the guilty man. “And Ben Stuart was so convincing I fell for it.” She began a slow clap, the stems of the bouquet muffling the sound. “Bravo, Ben. You deserve a Tony nomination for that performance.”

“Blair,” Neil pleaded. “I didn’t know that Ben—”

“Don’t you even.” She hit him in the chest with the bouquet again, a shower of roses flying every direction. “Yeah, I figured it out, even if I admit to missing it last night when you mentioned my ultimatum from work without me having told you about it.”

“Blair.”

“Then you mentioned it again this morning when you realized that I truly intended to break up with you. So when you failed to talk me out of dumping you, you sent your slutty girlfriend to Garrett’s hotel room, then insisted that we go back to talk to Garrett together. But here’s your mistake with that one, Neil: What are the odds of me finding my fully clothed boyfriend with a lingerie-clad woman twice? Because, call me a fool—and I’ve rightly earned the title—but I can’t imagine Garrett would ask me to marry him and then invite a skanky woman to his room twenty minutes later.”

Neil’s face had turned as red as the bridesmaids’ dresses. “Maybe if you knew how to satisfy a man, I wouldn’t have to go elsewhere for sex.”

A horrified gasp spread throughout the crowd.

She put her hands on her hips and eyed him with distaste. “Neil, you wouldn’t know how to satisfy a woman if she supplied her own vibrator.”

Debra and her daughter gasped, but the sounds were practically drowned out by the crowd’s collective laughter. Neil’s fury increased, and he took a step toward her.

Garrett had heard enough. “You need to back away from her Neil. Now.” The command in his voice was unmistakable. He started down the aisle, the papers in his hand. “Have you listed your grievances, Blair? Because I have a few of my own.”

At the sound of his voice, she twisted to face him, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “Garrett.”

He approached the altar, trying to keep his rage at bay. “Neil, you self-righteous prick.”

Neil pointed to the back door. “Get the hell out of here, Garrett! None of this concerns you!”

“When you send your girlfriend to strip in my room, it concerns me. When you hurt and try to humiliate Blair, it concerns me.”

Neil leaned closer and lowered his voice, motioning to the papers in his hand. “I thought you were bringing me an offer, cousin. Do you really want to do this?”

Garrett sneered, “You mean the deal where I was going to pay you to call off the wedding?” He looked over at Blair and smiled. “Looks like I don’t need that deal anymore.”

“What about the other?” Neil asked, his tone hateful.

“The other?” Garrett asked, feigning innocence. “I think Nana Ruby has something to say about that.”

Neil’s face paled. “Nana Ruby?”

“I’ve had enough of your bratty behavior,” Nana said, standing up from her seat toward the front of the church and shuffling past several people to get to the aisle. “I should box your ears, Neilson Allen Fredrick.”

He clenched his hands at his sides. “Stay out of this, Nana.”

Aunt Debra rose up and rushed over to her mother. “What’s going on here?”

“What’s going on, Debbie Sue, is that your son is a liar, a cheater, and apparently an extortionist. You should have raised him better.”

“They’re lying!” Debra shouted. “My little Neil wouldn’t do any of this!”

Nana Ruby waved to him. “The proof is in the pudding.” She looked up at him. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m innocent.”

“Then I guess you won’t mind signing this paper Garrett’s made, ensuring you stay innocent.”

Neil glanced around the church at all the curious guests. The back of the church was now full of over a hundred people, who from the state of their attire, were social media onlookers. “This doesn’t seem like the right time.” He took a step down from the altar, and Nana smashed his foot with her cane. He stumbled back onto the altar as fast as he could manage.

She gave him a scowl. “Now seems like the perfect time. You were blackmailing your cousin over this wedding and this girl, so you might as well wrap up all your unfinished business at the wedding. Because from the looks of things, that’s all that’s getting finished here.”

Neil’s eyes narrowed. “What does it say?”

Garrett lifted the papers. “Perhaps you should read it.”

“If you want any kind of inheritance at all from me, you’ll sign it.” Nana held a pen toward Neil. “Give him the papers, Garrett.”

Garrett handed them to his cousin, knowing his cousin would sign. Nana Ruby had offered him one-fourth of the land—his expected inheritance, but only if he not only agreed to never release the video and photos of Blair, but also gave Garrett any hard copies Neil might possess.

Neil jerked them out of his hand, and gave them a good shake before he started to read. It was all the opportunity Garrett needed to sneak a glance at Blair. Megan and Libby flanked her now, and he wasn’t surprised by her defiant stance. Yet she snuck a glance at him, and their eyes locked. He saw sadness and regret in her gaze, and his heart sank to his feet. Had he really lost her?

“I’m not agreeing to this.” Neil flapped the papers at Garrett. “I bet you drew these up yourself. How do I know they’re legal?”

“They’re legal,” Garrett said in disgust. “And if they aren’t, then you’ll have your out.” Garrett’s voice tightened. “But I assure you, if you let them leak, I’ll come after you faster than white on rice.”

“Sign it,” Nana barked.

Gritting his teeth, Neil awkwardly bent over and signed the papers on his leg, then tossed them back at Garrett as he rose. “Can I go now?” Then he looked around the church and went slack-jawed as if finally realizing he was acting like an ass in front of over three hundred people, including two hundred of which were his family, friends, and colleagues—not to mention the hundred or more strangers that filled the back of the church, most with smart phones in their hands, recording the entire fiasco.

Dr. Neil Fredrick was about to become a viral sensation of his own.

Nana stepped out of the way, and Neil hurried down the aisle and out the back doors.

The minister, who had stood behind the altar with an admirable poker face throughout all the commotion, finally spoke. “Well . . . in all my twenty years of officiating weddings, I’ve never had anyone object, let alone half the church.” He turned to Blair and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Looks like you dodged a bullet, young lady.”

Blair’s gaze turned to Garrett. “I guess I did.” Then she took a deep breath and started to say something before stopping.

Garrett took a step toward her. “Blair. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”

“For not telling you about Layla.”

Shock covered her face and she choked out, “She . . . you slept with . . .”

“No!” Horror filled his words. “God. No. I meant I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her and Neil. When I went to the hospital a few days ago to ask him if he loved you, and the two of them were together in his office, Neil admitted he was sleeping with her and intended to keep her as his mistress after your wedding.”

“But why didn’t you tell me that?”

He grimaced. “Because I knew how much it would hurt you. I hoped I could get you to end it another way, so you’d never have to know.”

“You were trying to protect me?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yeah.”

She smacked his arm with Megan’s nearly destroyed bouquet, and the last few remaining flowers flew out. At this point, it was little more than a collection of pointed green spikes. “Well, don’t do that. I don’t need protecting. I can handle it.”

“Yeah, Nana Ruby pointed that out this afternoon.” A sheepish grin spread across his face. “But you have to understand—I love you. Wanting to protect you seems to go hand in hand with that.”

“You still love me?” she whispered.

His smile spread. “Yeah, I do.”

“Even after the horrible, hurtful things I said?”

“You were shocked and hurt, Blair. I would hope you’d be that upset if I were actually screwing around on you. Of course I still love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

She reached out to him, and he pulled her into his arms, lowering his lips to hers for a soft lingering kiss. “I’m starving. Know of any place we can get something to eat?”

She grinned and glanced back at her assistant. “As a matter of fact, I do.” Then she turned her attention to the guests, most of who were now standing and filling the room with the roar of their voices.

“If I could have your attention!” she shouted.

When the ruckus continued, Nana Ruby stuck her fingers in her mouth and released a whistle so loud it shocked everyone into silence. When they realized the bride was about to address them, they gave her their enraptured attention.

Blair took a deep breath. “First of all, I’d like to apologize for the spectacle you just witnessed, although from the looks of some of you,” her gaze landed on Kelsey, who bounced a baby on her shoulder and wore a wide smile, “you enjoyed every minute of it. In that spirit of celebration, and if it’s not too awkward for you, there’s a reception with food and music that’s already been paid for . . . so I invite you to come on over and join us.”

Garrett took her hand and led her down the aisle to a chorus of cheers and whistles. A loud cheer rose above the rest, which was when Garrett realized the couple who had given him a ride to the church were sitting in the back pew. The woman was furiously typing on her phone, and the man gave him a thumbs-up.

“Say, Garrett,” he said with a huge grin. “Where exactly is that reception?”

Garrett squeezed Blair’s hand and gave her a sheepish look. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Her eyebrows rose. “And that is?”

He cringed. “We may have become a social media sensation.”

“What?”

“Blair,” a man called out from behind them. They turned to see an older, distinguished-looking man approaching them. Blair’s back stiffened, and Garrett instinctively put his arm around her.

“Mr. Sisco.”

He grimaced. “On behalf of the firm, I would like to extend my apologies for Mr. Stuart’s behavior. We do not condone what he’s done, and the partners will meet next week to discuss an appropriate punishment.”

“Thank you,” she said briskly.

He leaned closer. “But I can tell you that there was a nugget of truth to what he told you. We are considering you for partnership.”

Garrett expected her boss’s statement to make her relax, but she only seemed to get more tense. “I see. Are you sure I’m partner material? Are you sure I’m not too much of a bitch?”

“What?” he asked, his face turning red.

“You were right, there was some truth to what Ben said. Several truths. I made a few phone calls this afternoon, and it turns out I’ve been considered for partner before, but one of the senior married partners refused to vote for me because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

Her boss’s face grew even redder. “I assure you that’s not true.” He paused. “And even if it was, you don’t have proof.”

She gave him a cold smile. “And that right there is proof enough.”

“Blair,” he gushed. “I know we’d love to make you partner and offer you a nice signing bonus.”

“I’m sure you would.” Her eyes sparkled with the look of a predator about to devour its prey, and Garrett found himself incredibly turned on.

“Mr. Sisco, you can take your partnership and shove it up your ass. You’ll find my letter of resignation on your desk on Monday morning.”

“Blair, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“The only thing we’re working out is how quickly you can get out of my sight.”

His jaw clenched with anger, and he stomped out of the sanctuary.

She took a deep breath and let it out. “That felt good.”

“I bet it did.”

“But I don’t have a job. And Melissa . . .”

“Blazer, I want you to be happy where you work. But for the record, if you had accepted, we might have had words. There’s no way I want my wife working for a bunch of sexist pricks.”

She spun around to face him, lifting her hands to his face. “Your wife?”

A lazy grin spread across his face. “I know. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“In a bad way?”

“In the best possible way.” He pulled her to his chest and kissed her, thankful that she didn’t pull back, even though they were in a church full of people. “I think I’m underdressed for this reception. How about we swing by my hotel room and pick up my tux?” He grinned. “And do a few other things.”

“Impatient again?” she laughed.

“Are you kidding?” He shot her a look of disbelief. “I almost lost you forever. I’m scared to death to let you out of my sight for one minute.”

She tensed. “You’re not going to be one of those clingy husbands, are you?”

“I’ve thought of you nonstop for five years, and this morning you turned your back on me to marry my asshole cousin. You’re going to have to give me at least a couple of hours of clinginess to calm my anxiety.”

“Then if you want to be clingy, I have the perfect idea for how we can make use of a few of those hours.”

His hand dug into her hip, his eyes full of longing. “I need to find a car.”

* * *

They showed up at the reception about an hour later, arriving to the cheers of Blair’s friends and family and some of Garrett’s family. Blair was still wearing her wedding dress since she didn’t have anything else to change into, but she’d let her hair down and removed her veil. “I like the idea of you not having a wardrobe,” Garrett had teased while he nuzzled her neck in his room when they were supposed to be getting dressed, “but it might not be a bad idea to keep a few articles of clothing around.”

He wore his tux, and she warned him that this was the only wedding reception they would get, so he’d better dress the part.

They ate and danced, and she found herself feeling more relaxed than she’d been in years. She looked up into the face of the man who had refused to leave her side all night, amazed that he was really there with her.

He glanced down at her, a warm smile spreading across his face.

“When you look at me like that,” she said, smiling coyly, “all I can think about is you naked.”

His eyebrows rose, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. “Is that so?”

“What are you doing next week?”

He brushed his lips against hers, and that was all it took to make her blood hot. “Hopefully spending every minute with you.”

She tilted her head. “How about spending the week with me in Costa Rica? I paid for a week at an all-inclusive resort for the honeymoon. Non-refundable.”

His eyes twinkled. “So this is a practical invitation?”

“I’m a practical woman.”

“Only one of many things I love about you.” He lowered his head to kiss her, then he pulled back to look into her eyes. “So . . . if we’re going on a honeymoon, I think we should actually be married first.”

Her breath caught, and she tensed. This was getting very real, very fast. Somehow the prospect of marrying Garrett was so much more frightening than her engagement with Neil had been. She had so much more to lose.

But for once, she was going to ignore the voices of caution in her head. They had kept her from living for the last ten years, and Garrett had been the only one to truly quiet them. It was time to let her heart take the lead for a while.

“Okay.”

“Really?”

“You thought I’d say no? You already proposed this morning. Trust me, that’ll be hard to explain to our kids if we have them.”

He laughed. “When I proposed this morning, we didn’t discuss dates. I know how you like to plan things out. We can wait if you’d prefer. The last thing I’d want is for you to feel pressured.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No more waiting. We’ve wasted five years, and we’ve got some making up to do.”

“Then how about we get married on the beach in Costa Rica? Just you and me. Are you okay with that?”

“That’s exactly how I want it,” she murmured as she kissed him. “But I want a different ring. This ring has been nothing but trouble.”

“I’ll get you a new ring, but I’ll be forever thankful for my family heirloom. I wouldn’t be here right now if not for this stupid ring.”

He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her close. “Mrs. Blair Lowry. Or maybe Mr. Garrett Hansen.” His eyes twinkled. “Or is it Myers? Who can keep up?”

“Shut up and kiss me, player.”

“Gladly.”

* * *

***The Gambler (Libby’s Story)***

The Wedding Pact #3

* * *

ONLY YOU (Kevin’s story)

(Bachelor Brotherhood #1)

June 14, 2016 eBook

October 2016 print book

Read the the first two chapters now!

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The Gambler

The Wedding Pact #3

Chapter One

No one had ever accused Libby St. Clair of being a practical woman. Not that she cared. The practical choice was often the safe one, the boring one. Libby St. Clair had also never been accused of being boring.

She firmly believed in living life to the fullest.

Ironically enough, the fact that she was now preparing to walk down the aisle toward a man she didn’t intend to marry was the first practical choice she’d consciously made, even if no one else realized it. Especially her two best friends.

“Libby,” Megan gushed, staring at Libby’s reflection in the mirror. “You look gorgeous.”

Blair gave her a warm smile. “She’s right, Libs. You’re stunning.”

“And just think,” Megan said, fluffing Libby’s tulle gown. “Not a single mishap.”

That was the part that shook Libby’s faith in her plan. Why was her wedding going so perfectly?

Blair put her hand on Libby’s arm and stared into her eyes in the reflection. “I confess, when you called last month and told me you were marrying Mitch three days before your thirtieth birthday, I had my doubts. I thought this might be some scheme related to that stupid wedding curse, but I’m happy I was wrong. Mitch seems like a great guy.” She cringed. “Even if he’s gone a little overboard with the football theme.”

Libby gave her a weak smile. “He is pretty great.” There was no denying it. Mitch was a fantastic guy in social situations. Of all the many boyfriends who’d come and gone in the past fifteen years, he was the only one who was both fairly dependable and accepting of her quirkiness. He even tried to understand her close friendship with Megan’s brother-in-law, Noah McMillan, which was more than she could say for Megan and Blair. That had to count for something, right?

But something was missing with Mitch. It hadn’t really mattered at first. She’d never intended to marry him. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that the woman in his life would always take a distant second to his sporting activities. But she’d needed a date to Megan’s wedding, and then Blair’s, and the fact that her friends kept expecting her to break up with him, that they were always so utterly shocked she was still with the same guy, started to chafe. And so she stayed with him, at first wanting to save face and prove she wasn’t as flighty as they thought. Then, because she had seen the curse come to life with her friends’ weddings, and she fully expected it to do the same with hers.

Back when they were kids, the friends had made a pact to find husbands before their thirtieth birthdays. They’d formed the agreement while in line to see a fortune teller, and mere moments later, Madame Rowena had assured them they would keep the pact, but their weddings would be disasters and each of them would marry someone other than their intended. The curse. Only Libby had taken it seriously, but there was no denying that Megan and Blair had both gotten married before their thirtieth birthdays, and neither of their husbands were the men who’d originally proposed to them. And God knew, the days leading up to their weddings had been filled with disaster after disaster.

Just like the fortune teller had predicted.

“In a week or two, maybe Garrett and I will have you both over for dinner.”

“Listen to you, Blair Hansen-Lowry,” Megan gushed. “Dinner parties with other couples? Marriage definitely agrees with you.”

The normally hard-assed Blair actually blushed. “Now that Garrett has moved to Kansas City and we’re starting our own practice . . .” Her blush deepened. “I just never expected to be so happy.” Then a mock scowl crossed her face. “If you ever repeat that to anyone, I’ll deny it.”

Megan gave her a teasing grin, but she knew better than to make a big deal of their friend’s uncharacteristic sentimentality. “Just think. When Josh and I move into our house in Lee’s Summit next month, all six of us can hang out together. It’ll be like old times.”

Libby had to admit, Blair looked happier than she had since high school. The curse had changed her life—and Megan’s—for the better.

So what in the hell was Libby doing wrong? Staring down at her bare left finger, she tried to keep from wringing her hands. Because she’d never planned to walk down the aisle toward him, she’d refused to let Mitch buy her an engagement ring. She’d bought two cheap wedding bands at a superstore to avoid suspicion. The best man now had them in his pocket.

The door to their room opened, and Josh McMillan, Megan’s husband of five months, poked his head in the room. “Hey, girls.”

Megan glanced up in surprise. “Josh, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you seated?”

Libby looked at him with a hopeful expression. Since Mitch had a tendency to tune out anything that wasn’t directly related to the Arkansas Razorbacks or the high school football team he coached and the school where he taught phys. ed., Libby had put Josh in charge of making sure the groom’s side of things ran smoothly. Perhaps this was what she’d been waiting for. Josh walked through the threshold and shut the door behind him.

“Libs, I have some bad news.”

“Mitch didn’t show?” She tried to keep the excitement out of her voice.

His eyes widened, then he shook his head. “What? No. Nothing like that. Mitch is in the church office watching the Arkansas football game.”

Figured. “Then what’s the bad news?”

He grimaced, casting a glance at Megan, then back at Libby. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we haven’t started yet . . .”

“You mean it’s not because Mitch doesn’t want to miss the end of the game?” Libby asked wryly.

“Not entirely.” He looked concerned. “It’s because we’ve been waiting on one of the groomsmen to arrive.”

There were only two groomsmen, and she could account for the best man, having seen Mitch’s cousin only a few hours earlier. That left one person. Josh’s brother. “Is Noah’s plane late?”

“Not exactly…”

She waited for him to continue, trying not to get upset until she had all the facts.

“He’s not coming at all.”

The blood rushed from her head. “What? Why not?”

“Libs, I don’t know. He said something about Donna needing him this weekend.”

His girlfriend of four weeks?

Back in June, Libby and Noah had become instant friends in the lead-up to Megan and Josh’s circus of a wedding, and the two had schemed to make sure the new couple’s marriage was legit. Their friendship had grown closer over the following months, and Noah had quickly replaced Libby’s two best friends as her closest confidant.

Noah was a notorious womanizer and Libby was known for her serial dating. Their relationship confounded everyone they knew. It was so unlike them, but then, maybe that was why it worked. It had only seemed natural to include Noah in the wedding party. After all, Mitch hadn’t minded.

But he’d suddenly decided not to come? Just on a whim?

What the actual hell?

Josh gave her a sympathetic look. “Libby, I’m sorry. I warned you he could be . . . unreliable.”

It was true. But Libby had never seen that side of Noah. Somehow she’d thought their friendship had changed him. It had definitely changed her.

Libby put a hand on her hip and narrowed her eyes at the innocent McMillan brother. “Let me get this straight. He agreed to be in my wedding, then he decided not to come because his girlfriend of four weeks has something she wants him to do?”

In a show of solidarity, Megan crossed the room to her husband and placed a hand on his arm. “Josh has told me stories of Noah’s epic fails in the past, but he hasn’t acted like this since I’ve known him. And he’s taken on so much responsibility with the merger of Dad’s company with Josh and Noah’s . . . Josh really did think he had changed.”

Libby wiped at the tear falling down her cheek. This wedding might not be real, but Noah still should have been here for her. The amount of grief she felt over his absence caught her by surprise.

But what did it matter if they were short a groomsman? The wedding wasn’t going to take place anyway. After all, there was no way that the curse would strike for both Megan and Blair and miss her. Her knight in shining armor—her one true love, her soul mate—would show up at any minute to sweep her off her feet and marry her before her birthday on Tuesday.

Only she had no earthly idea who he might be. The only thing she knew was what the lines on her palm told her—he was creative and would shower her with the love she’d longed for her entire life.

A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. What if this didn’t work?

“What do you want to do?” Blair asked, her jaw set. She’d barely tolerated Noah in the past, so these shenanigans weren’t bound to make her any fonder of him.

One hundred people were sitting in that church, waiting for her to walk down the aisle.

What the hell was she going to do?

Faith. Libby just needed more faith. She’d had enough faith for Megan and Blair when their lives and weddings had begun to fall apart. Since they hadn’t seemed to understand what was really going on, Libby had needed to have enough faith for all three of them.

She gave them a dazzling smile. “Go ahead with the wedding, of course.”

“What about the missing groomsman?” Megan asked.

Libby shrugged. She refused to show her friends how upset she was that Noah wasn’t there. “Have Josh stand in for him.” She gave him a pointed glance, disappointment seeping into her voice. “Haven’t you spent most of your adult life cleaning up his messes? What’s one more?”

“Oh, Libby.” Megan threw her arms around her friend. “I’m so sorry.”

Libby pulled loose. “I’m okay. I should have known better. I just thought he was beyond this sort of thing.”

“We all did.”

“Does that mean you’re ready?” Blair asked, holding out Libby’s wildflower bouquet.

“I guess.”

Her response drew worried glances from her friends, but she was too busy trying to figure out what she would do if the curse didn’t work.

No. No. No. Stop thinking like that. She just had to believe.

Libby reached for the bouquet and took a deep breath. When she released it, serenity washed through her. This was going to work.

It had to.

Megan gave Josh a lingering kiss, then pulled back and smoothed his lapel, staring into his face with adoration and love. Both Blair and Libby had been jealous of their connection, even if neither woman had ever admitted it. But Blair had found that same deep love and contentment with Garrett. So where was Libby’s soulmate?

Josh left to get the groom and the other groomsman up to the altar while the three girls waited. The door flew open again, this time with more force. Libby’s mother waltzed in with a theatrical flounce. “They’re ready for you, my princess.”

Irritation set Libby on edge, quickly followed by a stab of guilt as she studied her mother. Gabriella St. Clair was a stunningly beautiful woman. Her rich dark brown hair was thick and long, and her olive complexion was flawless and nearly wrinkle-free, even though she had to be close to fifty years old, not that she’d ever admit to it. Libby had no idea how old her mother actually was since the elder St. Clair would never confess the year of her birth. Not that it mattered. Gabriella St. Clair’s face and body defied time, and she and Libby were often mistaken for sisters.

And there was the rub. Gabriella preferred to be seen as Libby’s sister than her mother and often did her best to make sure she was the center of attention. Even now—wearing a form-fitting white dress with a deep V-neck that showed off her ample cleavage—Gabriella St. Clair would not be relegated to the background.

Libby’s mother glided over to her and grabbed her hand in a dramatic flourish. “You are by far the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

Libby gritted her teeth. “Thank you, Momma.”

“I’m still not sure that boy out there is right for you.”

That was one of the few things the St. Clair women agreed upon, except Gabriella didn’t think Libby should marry at all.

“Thank you for your concern, Momma.”

Her mother patted her cheek and looked into her eyes. “No talking you out of it?”

Libby released a short laugh. At this point, if either of her friends told her this was crazy and encouraged her to back out of it, she’d probably do it in a heartbeat. But hearing her mother say it was a whole other thing. “I’ve made up my mind.”

“Well, nothing’s forever, sweetheart.” Gabriella shot a wicked glance to Blair. “And you already have a divorce attorney on retainer.”

Blair’s mouth opened as if on a hinge, but Gabriella was already sweeping out of the room.

Blair put her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe her!”

Libby shook her head, her anxiety rising. “It’s my mother. What do you expect?” She took a breath. “It’s time to start.”

Megan took a step toward her. “Maybe you should take a moment.”

“I don’t care what she thinks. We’ve known she’s a narcissistic bitch since before I found her and my first boyfriend screwing on our kitchen counter. Why would anything change in the last fifteen years?”

“Oh, Libs . . .” Megan said softly.

Megan’s sweetness was nearly her undoing. “Forget my mother. There are bigger things to worry about. I have a date with destiny.”

Her friends gave her a strange look, but Libby pushed them toward the door, not giving them time to respond.

They waited in the church lobby, listening for the musical cue to start down the aisle. Blair went first, followed by Megan. And soon the music switched to the song Mitch had picked for her walk down the aisle—the Razorback fight song. She’d agreed to everything he’d asked for, never once thinking the wedding would progress this far.

Libby cast a worried glance toward the front door of the church, wondering where in the hell her soul mate could be. After a good twenty seconds, long enough for the guests in the church to start murmuring in confusion, Libby realized he wasn’t going to come walking through the door.

Which meant he was inside the church.

Relief washed over her at that thought, which was enough to get her through the door and propel her down the aisle. Her gaze swept the crowd, looking for her Prince Charming, but the only real candidate she came up with was Mitch’s Uncle Earl—a forty-two-year-old confirmed bachelor and wholesale fish salesman down in Louisiana. He was a good seventy-five pounds overweight, and during the rehearsal dinner, Libby and her friends had decided he wore a toupee. He gave her a leering smile when he realized her gaze had landed on him. Then he licked his upper lip, as if he’d just spotted a particularly succulent catfish.

She’d rather marry Mitch.

Mitch wasn’t so bad. Her friends liked him. And if she could learn to overlook the football fanaticism, he was sweet. Sure, Libby had done her level best to keep Blair from marrying a man she didn’t love, but there was no denying that Mitch was a better partner than Neil could ever be. Still, Libby couldn’t fool herself into thinking she was head over heels in love. After she’d announced her short engagement, Blair and Megan had quizzed her endlessly about her decision. She must have performed the role of the gushing bride-to-be a little too well, because she’d convinced them this was what she wanted. But if she went through with it, it would be until death do us part. While Libby might know the best divorce attorney in the universe, she’d never let it come to that.

Unlike her mother, Libby believed marriage was for keeps.

So what was she doing?

Maybe her white knight hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe he’d gotten lost in traffic. Libby just had to keep going and believe it would all work out.

But as she climbed the two steps up the altar, panic clawed in her chest. Have faith, she repeated in her head. Just have faith.

Mitch waited for her, wearing his black tux with his University of Arkansas tie. He lifted his pants legs to reveal his Razorback socks. “Ehh?” He grinned as he dropped it. “You’re gonna be the perfect wife, Libby,” he whispered. “What other bride would let her groom finish watching a football game before the ceremony?” Then he winked and nudged her with his elbow. “We won! Twenty-three to twenty-one! Go Hogs!” he shouted, following up with a victory whoop—“Wooo Pig Sooooie!!!”—that his friends joined in from the pews.

Megan and Blair’s eyes flew open in shock.

Welcome to the real Mitch.

Her anxiety ratcheted up five notches.

Why couldn’t Megan and Blair read between the lines and realize she wasn’t in love with him? Libby had recognized all the signs with the both of them. Were they so eager for her to settle down that they’d give their approval to anyone?

She decided to ignore the fact that she’d proposed to him. Her lame attempt to get the curse rolling.

Lost in her thoughts, she was shocked to hear the minister ask, “Mitch, would you like to read your vows?”

Oh, shit. They were already to the vows?

Mitch cleared his throat and reached into his jacket and pulled out a white paper. After carefully unfolding it, he held it up for everyone to see.

Oh, my God. It’s a play diagram.

Sure enough, the paper was covered with circles and x’s, big sweeping lines and arrows. “Libs, you and me are like when the Razorbacks played Kansas in the Cotton Bowl in 2012. The Razorbacks hadn’t beaten the Jayhawks since 1967. They used this quarterback sneak play.” He held it against his chest and pointed to it. “And do you know what happened?”

She stared at him in shock. What was happening?

“They whooped some Jayhawk ass and became the Cotton Bowl champions!”

Then Mitch and his friends let out another Woo Pig Sooie.

Had it been possible to die from embarrassment, she would have collapsed to the floor at that very moment.

“That’s us, baby. You and me. We’ll whoop ass and lead our team to victory. You, me, and all our little half-backs.” When she didn’t answer, he mistook her horror for confusion. “You know. Our kids,” he added with a wink.

His friends in the audience let loose another Hogs call.

The minister gaped for several seconds before closing his mouth and swallowing. “Uh . . . Libby, do you have vows?”

Oh, my God. This was way past cold feet. This bordered on insanity.

“No.”

Mitch lowered his paper, confusion in his eyes.

“No?” The minister’s eyebrows shot up. “Would you prefer to recite the traditional vows after me?”

She glanced back at Megan and Blair, who stood frozen in shock, then turned to face the minister. “No.”

Mitch blinked. “What’s wrong with my little running back? Did you forget your vows?”

Running back . . . run . . . If she didn’t get out of here, she was going to jump out of her skin. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I can’t do this.” She grabbed her full skirt in one hand and took off down the aisle for the exit.

“Libs?” Mitch called out. “Are you goin’ out for a pass?”

She glanced over her shoulder, ignoring the horrified stares of the guests. “I’m passing all right.” She ran out the doors, Megan and Blair fast on her heels as she fought her rising hysteria.

Oh, God. The curse had failed her, and she’d just run out of her own wedding.

“Libby,” Megan called after her, but she raced toward the parking lot without slowing.

Guests had begun streaming out the double doors, Mitch in the lead.

“Libby? Where’re you goin’?” he called after her.

What was she going to do? She had no purse. No car keys. In fact, her mother had driven her to the church. She had nowhere to hide. Humiliated beyond belief, she was like a rat trapped in a maze, only there was no piece of cheese waiting for her. No perfect soul mate waiting in the wings. Only more humiliation.

A car pulled into the parking lot, and before she could stop to consider what she was doing, she bolted for it. The car slowed down, the driver probably stunned by the spectacle. She saw an opportunity and took it. Opening the passenger door, she glanced down at the bouquet in her hand. Without thinking, she tossed it toward the wedding guests congregating on the lawn.

Megan’s grandmother’s eyes lit up. “That bouquet’s mine, bitches!” She leapt for it just as one of Libby’s college friends grabbed it too.

Gram tackled the younger woman to the ground and a wrestling match began.

Her eyes still on the melee, Libby slid into the car. “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you get me out of here right now.”

Half the guests had spilled out onto the lawn now, and Mitch stood in the front, looking dazed and confused.

What had she done? She’d been so certain activating the curse would lead her to the man of her dreams that she’d ignored the little voice in her head whispering that she was callously using Mitch. But now the proof of her selfishness was literally staring her in the face.

“Only a hundred?” an amused voice answered. “My plane ticket cost more than that.”

Libby gasped in relief when she recognized the voice of the driver next to her. But then she remembered he’d stood her up.

Noah McMillan was a dead man.

Chapter Two

Noah McMillan had known more than his share of women. He’d dated plenty in high school, but it wasn’t until college that he started plowing his way through too many women to count. And while his easy-come-easy-go lifestyle had continued after graduation, it wasn’t until his younger brother Josh joined the family business that he gave up all pretense of giving a shit.

Why should he bother when Josh gave a shit enough for the both of them?

He knew he was a disappointment to his brother and mother, but he couldn’t find it in himself to make an effort. The truth was, he’d stopped caring about much of anything after his father died a week before he graduated college.

So he’d fumbled along for more than a decade, knowing that he and his brother both had their roles. Josh was the responsible one. Noah was the joke. And Noah played his part well—perhaps too well. He was the one who’d almost made them lose their business.

There was no denying that Noah had lost the plans for an esoteric part that Josh had created for solar panels after indulging in a one-night stand at a conference. A part that would breathe new life into their flailing business. But he hadn’t given it another thought until their patent was denied and their big investor threatened to pull his funding unless the McMillan brothers sorted out the problem within a week. It didn’t take much tracking to figure out which firm had submitted an application for the same patent a mere week before they did.

Ever responsible, Josh decided he’d do everything in his power to save the business. So he bought a last-minute ticket to Kansas City, Missouri, to confront the engineering firm and prove they’d stolen the plans. Noah wished him well, then went on a bender, never once thinking his goody-two-shoes brother could pull it off.

Less than twelve hours later, Josh called to say he’d not only met one of the partners in the rival firm, but he was currently pretending to be his daughter’s fiancé. All in an effort to get closer to the firm and find proof of their wrongdoing.

Noah hopped on a plane the next morning, expecting to bail his squeaky-clean brother out of his unsavory situation. Instead, Noah teamed up with one of the bride-to-be’s best friends in an effort to keep the couple together. Granted, he and Libby had started off with completely different motivations. Libby claimed Megan and Josh were perfect for each other, while Noah’s sole purpose was to keep them together for as long as it took to get evidence implicating Megan’s father’s firm.

But soon two things became glaringly obvious. One, Josh had somehow fallen head-over-heels in love with the girl after only a few days, and two, Libby St. Clair was different than any other woman Noah had ever met. Sure, he was intrigued for all the normal reasons the first time he saw her walk into Megan’s parents’ house. Even a blind man could see Libby was gorgeous. It was hard to look away from her long dark hair, her rich brown eyes, and her clear olive skin. But he’d already pissed Josh off a thousand ways to Sunday; he wasn’t going to risk losing him for good by hooking up with his fake fiancée’s best friend. Not that Libby would have hooked up with him anyway. She made it abundantly clear that she had a boyfriend, albeit a mostly absent one. Not that she seemed to mind. But because of their mutual goal, Noah and Libby spent enough time together before the wedding to become real friends.

After Noah went back to Seattle, he was surprised to realize he missed her. So after he thought up a lame excuse, he called her, thankful when she seemed genuinely happy to hear from him. It would be the first of many near-daily calls over the next four months.

Josh’s efforts were a success. The McMillan brothers not only saved their firm, but they arranged for a merger with Megan’s father’s office. Josh began traveling to Kansas City, but he hated leaving his new wife at home, and Megan was running out of vacation time to travel with him. The couple had decided to move back to Megan’s hometown, but in the meantime, Noah started taking the trips in his brother’s place. Even more surprising—he loved the added responsibility.

And then there was all the extra time he got to spend with Libby.

No one understood their relationship, not that he blamed them. Hell, some days he didn’t understand it himself. A year ago, if someone had told him he’d be friends without benefits with a sexy-as-hell woman who drew the eyes of every man she walked past, well, there was no way he’d believe it.

Then one day Libby called Noah after a disagreement with Mitch. They talked for over two hours—something Noah had never done with any other woman, whether he was sleeping with her or not. Both were under the influence at the time. Libby had been drinking wine to drown her sorrows; Noah had been drinking beer to quiet his inner demons.

“We should hook up, Lib,” he said, gaining liquid courage from the three beers running through his bloodstream. “We’re perfect for each other.”

She was silent for so long he thought she’d either passed out or hung up on him, but she finally answered. “That’s a terrible idea, Noah.”

The sharp stab of pain from her rejection surprised him. “How can you say that? Look how well we get along.”

“And that’s exactly why we shouldn’t,” she said emphatically. “You’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had. I don’t want to lose you.”

“But you wouldn’t lose me. You’d just get more benefits,” he teased in a sultry voice.

“And what would happen after we break up?”

“Hey! We haven’t even had sex yet. Why are you already talking about us breaking up?”

“What’s the longest you’ve ever had a girlfriend?”

“Uh . . .” Did he really want to confess that it was shorter than it took bread to grow mold?

“My point exactly,” she said. Yet he could swear there was a thread of disappointment in her voice.

“You’re telling me that you’re not attracted to me?” he asked in disbelief. She had to realize there was some kind of sexual tension between them, even if they’d both chosen to ignore it. He’d almost kissed her dozens of times. And sometimes he caught her looking at him with a hungry glint in her eyes.

“Obviously I’m attracted to you,” she said. “Only a dead woman wouldn’t be attracted to you. But what we have is special. Do you really want to throw it away for cheap sex?”

He laughed. “I’ll have you know that sex with me is not cheap. In fact, a few women have offered to pay to get with this.”

“Whatever, stud muffin. You know I’m right.”

Unfortunately, he did.

Still, he wasn’t prepared for her phone call two days later.

“I’m getting married!”

His angry “You’re what?” slipped out before he could stop himself.

“Mitch and I are getting married in a month.” The defiance in her tone was unmistakable.

“A month? What the hell are you thinking, Libby?”

“Megan and Josh were married after knowing each other for only four days. I’ve been with Mitch for six months. Why shouldn’t we get married?”

“How about because you called me two days ago telling me what an ass he is.”

“It was a fight, Noah. If you stayed in a relationship long enough to discover what type of toothpaste the girl uses, you might understand.”

He knew what type of toothpaste she used, and a whole lot of other things besides, but he decided now wasn’t a good time to bring that up. Still, he wasn’t sure how to handle the swirling emotions in his head, let alone put a name to them. “What do you want me to do, Libby? Tell you congratulations?”

“That’s the typical response, Noah,” she spat out.

“Congratulations.”

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

“You have to give me a damn minute to catch up, okay?” His chest tightened as he moved to the fridge and pulled out a beer.

“It’s been ten seconds.”

“I said a damn minute.”

“How is a damn minute different from a regular one?”

A grin cracked his mouth, despite his turmoil. No one could rein him back from his emotional spirals like Libby could. He realized he had two choices: he could give her his blessing, or he could continue down the path of belligerence and possibly lose her forever. But he had to give it one more try. “Are you sure, Lib?” He lowered his voice. “I don’t think he deserves you.”

“Listen to you,” she teased. “You’re like the big brother I never had.”

That only increased his turmoil. Big brother? Did she really see him that way? “I’m serious, Libby. Don’t you want what Megan and Josh have?”

“Who says I don’t?”

A rush of anger flooded his head, burning his filter to ash. “Are you serious? You can’t possibly believe what you have with that guy is love! He’s more enamored with football than he is with you!”

“I can’t believe you just said that!”

“The proof is right in front of you, Libby. Hell, you spend more time with me than you do with him and I live two thousand miles away.”

“Then maybe I should spend less time with you!”

“Most normal women who actually loved their fiancés would.”

She hung up on him then, and he stewed in his sorrow and unease, telling himself that he’d call her the next day to apologize and they’d be fine. And as far as her impending marriage went, surely her two friends would help her see the light. Noah might not be an expert on love, but he knew Libby didn’t really love Mitch. How could she when the guy was so obsessed with football? According to Libby, Mitch had a room in his apartment stuffed so full with football paraphernalia, he could star in an episode of one of those hoarder shows. What semi-intelligent man could be with Libby St. Clair without being infatuated to the point of distraction over her?

The next morning he called her as soon as he was sure she’d be awake.

“Lib, I’m sorry. I said some things I wish I could take back.” He was surprised by how easily the apology rolled off his tongue. The first apology he could remember making was the one he’d been forced to give to his mean next-door neighbor after cutting her flowers to make his mother a bouquet. He was four at the time. Apologies had been soured for him ever since. But while he hadn’t been sorry about the neighbor lady’s flowers, he did regret hurting Libby. She was the very last person he wanted to hurt.

Libby didn’t respond for several seconds, and his heart thudded against his ribcage. Had he pushed her too far? Finally, she cleared her throat. “I want you to be in the wedding.”

“What?” Rein it in, Noah. He couldn’t lose control again. He softened his tone, then joked, “I’m warning you I won’t wear a tacky rayon dress. I’m more of a silk guy.”

“Very funny,” she chuckled, but it wasn’t her genuine laugh—the one that made him feel good inside just from hearing it. “You’ll be one of the groomsmen.”

“Does Mitch know about this?”

“He thinks it’s a great idea.”

That didn’t surprise him. Mitch was one of the most laid back, albeit clueless, guys he had ever met.

“So? Will you?”

“Sure.” Not that he ever expected the wedding to take place. Libby had stepped up twice to keep her friends from making mistakes with their marriages. They owed her big time, and surely they would see what he did—that while Mitch was a good guy, he wasn’t the type who could snare Libby’s heart.

Only it didn’t happen that way.

When Noah brought it up to Josh at the office a week later, Josh played it off. “Megan and Libby had a good heart-to-heart talk, and Megan thinks Libby’s happy.”

Noah frowned. “She’s taking Libby’s two years of acting in college into account, right?”

Josh had looked up from his computer. “Why would she pretend to be happy? Especially when she was so adamant about making sure Megan and Blair made the right choices.”

Noah shook his head. “I’ve heard her mention something about getting married before her thirtieth birthday. Her birthday is next month. Maybe she’s feeling the pressure.”

“Libby? Feeling social pressure? Not likely.” Josh laughed. “If anything, it’s that stupid curse nonsense.”

Noah perked up. “What curse nonsense?”

Josh shrugged. “Megan mentioned it right after our wedding. Something about Libby believing all three of them were cursed to have disastrous weddings.”

“What does that have to do with her getting married before her birthday?”

He gave Noah an ornery grin. “I confess, my attention was on other things when Megan told me, so a lot of the details escaped me.”

Noah cringed. “TMI, dude.”

“Really? This from the king of TMI? How many of your exploits have I been forced to hear about?”

“That was different. Megan’s my sister-in-law.”

Josh gave him a look of surprise, then continued. “Like I said, I don’t remember a lot of the details, but I do know Libby totally believes in it.”

Noah sucked in a breath, trying to quell his brewing nausea. “I don’t know, Josh. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

Josh’s gaze narrowed. “Maybe you need to take a good look at why you have that feeling.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Maybe you need to examine your own life.”

Here he was trying to save his friend from making the biggest mistake of her life and Josh was using it as yet another opportunity to point out what a screw-up he was. He started to walk away, but Josh called after him.

“How’s the Abrahams account coming?”

So Josh really didn’t trust him. Noah stopped in his tracks and turned to face his brother. “Great. I have a meeting with Scott next week.”

“You’re sure you’ve got this? I know you went to college with him, but I can help if you need me to intervene.”

Noah tried to stifle his irritation. He couldn’t really blame Josh for being cautious. After all, he had spent the better part of a decade trying to do as little as possible. Still, it sucked to be treated like a preschooler, even if he deserved it. “I think we’re good.”

Josh lowered his voice. “Look, Noah. We need that account. Bad. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“If you get into any trouble, you’ll let me know?”

“Sure,” he said, still distracted by Libby and her engagement.

That night he went out with a couple of friends and met Donna at a bar. She was with several friends who joined his group. While it wasn’t exactly unusual that he went home with her, he surprised himself by asking for her number and telling her he wanted to see her again.

In a way, Josh was right. Libby’s impending marriage had made him realize how empty his life was. Now that she was preparing for her wedding—or more likely because of their disagreement—she no longer called him as frequently, which made him acutely aware that once she was married, he would hear from her even less. Her absence left an ache in his soul, and his typical one-night stands weren’t going to fill it. Donna was conventionally pretty and model-thin—the polar opposite of Libby’s exotic beauty and hourglass figure. And while Donna was a little clueless about some things, she was actually a nice woman he could take home to meet his mother.

Everyone who knew him was shocked that he’d kept a woman in his life for more than a few weeks, and while he wasn’t as over-the-moon happy as Josh, he was trying to be content. For the first time in a long while, he felt like maybe he could stop blustering and be happy. But that wasn’t entirely true. Libby was the one who’d made him feel that way, not Donna.

Maybe it just took time.

As Libby’s wedding drew closer, Noah became more and more anxious, and Donna became more and more of a bitch over his friendship with Libby.

Noah was supposed to fly out two days before the wedding, but Scott Abrahams was a hard man to pin down. He’d postponed their meeting until Friday afternoon, forcing Noah to move his flight to the day of the wedding. But five minutes before they were supposed to meet, Abrahams called to cancel.

“Noah, you know I like your plans, but I’m meeting with someone else next week. I’ll be honest—I’ll probably sign with them.”

Noah’s stomach dropped. “Scott, I’d be more than happy to go over the schematics with you over drinks.”

“I trust your schematics, and I know we go way back, but I think I can get a better deal. No hard feelings. It’s just business.”

He hung up before Noah could press him for more details.

Noah felt like he was going to be sick. How was he going to explain this to Josh? His brother was definitely going to blame him for losing the job. He considered waiting until after the wedding to tell him, but that’s what the old Noah would do. The new Noah was taking charge. He called his brother before he could change his mind.

“That was fast,” Josh said.

“There’s a reason.”

“He didn’t sign.” Josh’s voice was flat.

“He canceled the meeting.”

“What happened?”

The accusation in Josh’s voice stiffened Noah’s back. “Why does it sound like you think I fucked this up?”

“Well, did you?”

“What the hell, Josh? You know I’ve been busting my ass to get this deal.” Still, some inner voice taunted him. You must have fucked it up. You know Josh would have closed the deal without a problem.

That voice only pissed him off more.

Josh groaned in frustration. “I knew I should have sat in on some of the meetings.”

Noah’s irritation only grew. “You don’t think I can handle a meeting?”

“I’m sure you can when drinks are involved.”

“So now you’re accusing me of being a drunk and a slacker.”

“You have to admit, you’ve fit both descriptions in the past.”

“If that’s really what you think of me, why the hell am I even working there?”

“Because your name’s on the damn building!”

And that was the crux of it. Noah had never wanted to take the helm of the engineering firm, but after their father’s death, it was just expected of him. He’d barely managed to hold it together until Josh took over, even if he’d fooled everyone else into thinking management was easy for him. Of course, he could have left then, but instead he’d coasted along, reasoning that the business owed him for single-handedly running things for a while. But then again, he had no idea what else to do.

Maybe this was the push he needed.

“Then take my damn name off, because I quit!”

Before Josh could say something else in that condescending tone, Noah hung up.

Now what the hell was he going to do?

Since he’d remained in town—apparently for no reason—Donna came over to his apartment for dinner. And since he was leaving for Libby’s wedding the next day, she was bitchier than usual. To make matters worse, over the last couple of weeks she’d appointed herself his life coach. She’d started a freelance life coaching business and slowly began offering him unsolicited advice until it had increased to an annoying intensity. Tonight she dusted off her list of the areas of his life he needed to improve to find inner peace—his apartment was too small; his car was too old; his job too financially limiting. Her list was insulting, but her passive-aggressive approach made it easier for him to ignore. “Noah, don’t you think you’d be happier if you talked to Terry, my stockbroker friend, about applying for that opening in his firm? You’d make so much more money.”

The combination of losing the account, his fight with Josh, and the feeling of impending doom that surrounded him like a noxious cloud had him so utterly miserable he couldn’t help wondering if she was right. Maybe his life really did need an overhaul.

After dinner he was emotionally beat-up, but he couldn’t let the Abrahams deal go without a fight. Even if it was time to stop working with his brother, he wanted to just this once prove he was capable of something other than screwing up. He sat through as much of Donna’s lame rom-com as he could bear before he hid in the bathroom to call Cal, his friend from college who had stayed in contact with both Noah and Scott Abrahams.

“Sorry to bother you on a Friday night, Cal, but do you happen to know if Scott Abrahams still has that cute secretary? The one he’s sleeping with? Terry . . . Tobi . . .”

“Ahh . . . Tiffany.” Noah heard the smile in his voice. “Yeah, she’s still there, although I think she’s about to cut him loose. Scott says she’s been giving him grief about not leaving his wife.”

Perfect. “You don’t happen to have her number, do you? Or know her last name?”

Cal laughed. “You probably picked a good time to make a play for her. I don’t have her number, but I know her last name is Brown.”

“That’s nearly totally unhelpful.”

“She went to college at Oregon State.”

“She went to college?” Noah always assumed she’d landed her position on the basis of her physical appearance alone.

Cal laughed again. “She quit her sophomore year. She’s on Facebook. Look her up there.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“Noah!” Donna shouted from the living room. “Did you fall in the toilet?”

“No, coming.” He flushed to corroborate his cover story and ran the water in the sink before returning to the living room. He considered searching for Tiffany on his phone, but how was he going to explain to Donna why he was looking up another woman on Facebook? That would likely get him strapped to a burning stake. He’d have to wait.

“Are you even listening to me?” Donna asked, sounding huffy, as he sat down next to her on the couch.

“What?”

“You’re busy thinking about her again. Did you go hide in the bathroom to call her?”

It took him a second to realize she was talking about Libby. Ironically enough, the last fifteen minutes had probably been the longest length of time in days that he’d gone without thinking about her. The realization only adding to his growing tempest of anxiety.

“You’re either with me or you’re not, Noah.”

This had also been a repeated topic of discussion between them. He wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her close. “Donna, you’re the one I want, sweetheart. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Only because you had that stupid meeting with that stupid man.”

She knew how important the meeting had been, yet she’d never once asked about it. But this was how normal people functioned, right? He didn’t remember his dad going home and discussing the specifics of his job. Normal people had responsible jobs and significant others. But he couldn’t help thinking that if he and Libby were still close, it would have been the first thing she would have asked him. Noah suddenly had a craving for something more. He’d convinced himself that normal was what he wanted. What Josh had. But if this was it, was it really enough?

“I mean it, Noah,” she pouted. “It’s not normal for a guy to be friends with a girl.”

“Hey, all those people did it on Friends.”

Her eyebrows lowered into a scowl. “They all ended up sleeping with each other like some exotic swingers club.”

Noah wondered how he’d missed the X-rated version of the series—and where he could find it—but he suspected she wouldn’t appreciate the question. “Why does it have to be either or?” he asked in frustration as he jumped to his feet, his anxiety rising to an all-time high. He didn’t need this in addition to everything else. “Why can’t I be friends with her and have you too?”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“If you met her, I’m sure you’d change your mind. Come to the wedding with me tomorrow. I’ll buy you a ticket.” He wasn’t sure where that had come from, but now that he’d said it, it seemed like a good next step in their relationship. It would show her that she had nothing to worry about, that he was in this for real.

She shook her head vehemently. “No. No way. In fact, if you go to that wedding, you and I are done.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

Rising from the couch, she planted her hands on her hips, her lips pursed like she was trying out for some lipstick commercial.

“Donna, I’m in the fucking wedding! I have to go!” But even as he said the words, he realized how much he really didn’t want to go.

“It’s her or me, Noah.” Then she stomped out of his apartment.

Noah was torn. He really wanted to be there for Libby, but he wasn’t sure he could bear to watch her exchange vows with the world’s biggest Arkansas Razorbacks fan. Not to mention the fact that he had no desire to see his brother. He was sick to death of people believing the worst of him, especially since he was trying so hard to change. Besides, if he broke up with Donna, he’d be drowned in a chorus of I told you so. He wasn’t sure he could handle that on top of the rawness he felt about Libby’s impending marriage.

So after a long sleepless night, he texted Josh the next morning and told him something with Donna had come up and he wasn’t coming. He worried about hurting Libby, but she was marrying Mitch, the man she claimed to love. Why would she care if he came or not? She’d made her choice; it was time for him to worry about his own love life.

Donna . . . he could do this. He could be in a long-term committed relationship. He just needed to make more of an effort. He picked up his phone and called her, mulling over the idea of asking her to move into his apartment. Wasn’t that what couples did when they took things to the next level?

“Did you decide?” she asked in a snotty tone when she answered.

“I’m not going.”

“Wise choice, McMillan.” Her voice took on a husky tone. “I’ll be right over.”

He made a pot of coffee, wondering when he should ask her to move in. After they had sex or before?

But when he opened the door for her, apprehension sucked his breath away. Could he really spend the rest of his life with someone who only wanted him if he met the requirements of some checklist? Someone who’d asked him to cut off a close friend? Someone, he suddenly realized, he barely tolerated? He’d rather be alone and dateless for the rest of his life.

But something even more shocking hit him and the realization nearly knocked him over. He didn’t want to build a life with just anyone.

He wanted it with Libby—and only Libby.

He had to get to Kansas City and stop the wedding.

Noah put a hand on the doorframe, blocking her entry. “I made a mistake.”

“I know.” She batted her eyelashes. “And you rectified it, so let me in.” She opened her trench coat, revealing a sexy outfit of black lingerie. He felt absolutely nothing, which only strengthened his resolve.

“No. I don’t think you understand.” Why had he been such an idiot? “Choosing you was the mistake. I’m sorry, Donna, we’re done.”

She dropped the hold on her coat, her lingerie still exposed as she put her hands on her nonexistent hips. “Think long and hard about this, Noah McMillan. You’re never going to amount to anything without me. I was probably your one last chance to make something of yourself.”

Maybe she was right, but he was willing to take that chance. “Then I guess I’ll be the low-life slacker I was meant to be, because I’m done.” Then he shut the door on her stunned face.

How had he been such a fool?

He ran to his bedroom to throw some clothes in a suitcase and grab the bag with his rented tux. He hadn’t canceled his flight, and if he hurried, he could still make it there in time to stop her from making the worst mistake of her life.

Thankfully, Donna had left by the time he ran to his car and sped to the airport . . . only to discover his flight was delayed. While he waited, he opened his Facebook app and found a Tiffany Brown who lived in Seattle, went to Oregon State, worked for Scott Abrahams, and was in a relationship labeled “it’s complicated.” He sent her a friend request, knowing it was a long shot, in the hopes she could give him inside info about Scott Abrahams and the competition.

After a delay on the ground, the plane touched down three hours late, which meant the wedding was due to start in just half an hour. But when he tried to call Lib to tell her he was coming and to hold off going down the aisle until he got there, he realized his phone was dead. The night before had been so intense, he’d forgotten to charge it.

The rental car process seemed to take forever, especially since he had to take a shuttle to get there, but he finally headed out, following sketchy directions from the rental car agent, who looked all of fifteen. Amazingly enough, the directions were good, and when he saw the church up ahead, he went over his options. It was 5:15, which meant the wedding had already started. Maybe he could go inside and object, like everyone had done at Blair’s wedding.

He’d boarded the plane with the aim of interrupting the wedding, but now he couldn’t help wondering what Libby would do if he objected. Would she be relieved? Would she kill him?

He pulled into the parking lot and discovered the decision had been made for him. Libby was running out the church doors, Megan and Blair hot on her heels. Noah slowed down and drove toward them, his heart in his throat.

Then Libby bolted again, running straight for his car. He hit the unlock button, watching in disbelief as she threw her bouquet into the crowd and then opened his passenger door. The sudden frenzy of women vying for the flowers reminded him of feeding time in a shark tank. Amazingly enough, Megan’s gram was front and center.

The door opened and Libby scrambled into the passenger seat. The crowd streaming out of the church was growing by the second, and Mitch stood in front of all of them like he was their disgraced quarterback.

She kept her eyes on the crowd as she shut the door. “I’ll pay you a hundred dollars if you get me out of here right now.”

She was here. In his car. And from the look on Mitch’s face, she wasn’t married.

“Only a hundred?” he asked, purposely trying to keep his tone light. “My plane ticket cost more than that.”

Libby sucked in a breath and turned to look at him, anger in her eyes.

Oh. Shit.

Chapter Three

Noah’s grin faltered, probably because he realized he was in deep shit. But getting away took precedence. She could kill him later.

Mitch raced toward the car, and even the older guests had streamed out onto the lawn. “Libby!”

Panic spiked her pulse. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

The car lurched forward and the tires squealed on the asphalt. “Where are we going?” he asked, clearly confused.

“I don’t care!” she shouted. “Just drive!”

He barely stopped at the street corner before skidding around it.

Oh, God. What had she done?

“Libby?” he asked, sounding worried. “What happened?”

“Shhhhhhh!” she hissed loudly, covering her face with her hands. “Just give me a minute.”

Thankfully, he knew her well enough to keep quiet.

What the hell had she been thinking? Why had she been so certain the stupid curse would work for her? Megan and Blair had been right. It was a coincidence that both of their love stories fit the fortune teller’s prophecy. Nothing more. Nothing less.

She was a fool.

And now, because of her idiocy, she’d wasted several thousand dollars, broken Mitch’s heart, and humiliated herself in front of a hundred people.

She’d done plenty of stupid things in her day—like the time she ran off to Monte Carlo with a mechanic who swore he was becoming a Formula One racer, only to return a week later with a sunburn and a seven-thousand-dollar balance on her Visa card. Or the time she was arrested for painting a mural with amazing anatomical detail of her ex-boyfriend’s penis, right down to the bump near his testicle, on the side of his new girlfriend’s house—but she wasn’t so sure she’d live this one down.

“Where to, Lib?” Noah asked, his concern evident.

Where to? She couldn’t go home and face all those wedding presents stacked in the corner of her living room. She couldn’t face her friends, or God forbid, her mother. She definitely couldn’t face Mitch, although she owed him the apology of all apologies, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

The truth was, there was nowhere she could go that would make her feel any better than she felt right now in this car. It felt like the entire world had melted away, leaving behind only her and Noah, the one person she could trust to understand.

“Just keep going.”

“Okay.”

His warm hand covered hers, and that simple comfort brought tears to her eyes.

She blinked them back.

There would be no tears allowed for her stupidity. She leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. She’d had several sleepless nights, so the lull of the car soon had her dozing.

“Libby.”

“Hmm?” Something dark and heavy pressed on her mind, but how could it when she was with Noah? Noah always seemed to lift her burdens.

“I’m hungry. Let’s eat.”

She opened her eyes and gasped when she realized it was now dark and they were parked in front of a café.

Then the whole nightmare came rushing back.

“Where are we?”

“The exit sign said Junction City, Kansas.”

“What?” She looked around, taking in the sight of cars in the lot and the street behind her. “How did we get here?”

He lifted his shoulders into a lazy shrug. “You said to keep driving. So I did.”

She slumped back in the seat. What did it matter where she was? As long as she wasn’t staring into the face of her humiliation. But apparently Junction City wasn’t far enough, because it was still there, staring back.

“Come on,” Noah said. “I’m hungry.”

She sat up straight and turned to face him. “You want me to go in there?” She pointed to the restaurant. “Dressed like this?” She waved her hand up and down the front of her sleeveless silk dress. Beading and sparkles covered the edge of her sweetheart neckline and the skirt flared at her waist, creating a sea of crinoline and silk around her.

He shrugged. “I told you. I’m hungry.” Then he opened the car door and walked around the back of the car and opened her door.

She glared up at him. “Go to a fast-food drive-thru.”

“No. I’m tired of driving, and you have a bladder the size of a thimble. I know you have to pee.”

She did have to pee, but there was no way she was going inside. “I can’t go in there wearing a wedding dress!”

He leaned his forearm on top of her door. “Sure you can. You’ll give them a thrill that they’ll talk about for years. That makes you a giver. Come on.”

“No. I’ve endured enough public humiliation for one day.”

He slid his arm off the door and squatted in front of her. “I don’t know what happened, and I want to hear about it as soon as you’re ready. But don’t think I forgot the stories you told me about your college days. The Libby St. Clair I know didn’t bat an eye about walking into a restaurant wearing a boa, a bikini, and a tiara. Wearing a wedding dress is way classier than that.”

She scowled. There was that look on his face, the one that told her any argument would be wasted breath. “You’re going to make me go in there, aren’t you?”

An ornery grin spread across his face. “Let’s just say you’re going in one way or another.” He winked. “If you make me pick you up, I’ll put you in a fireman’s hold and tell everyone I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

She groaned as she climbed out of the car. “I hate you. You’re an ass.”

His grin spread. “Many women find it endearing.”

“Name one.” She picked up her skirt so it didn’t touch the dirty sidewalk, although she wasn’t sure why it mattered now.

“Well, there was Christy last week, and Tina the week before that.”

“What about Donna?” The thought of his girlfriend stirred anger in her gut, catching her by surprise. “Aren’t you supposed to back in Seattle taking care of her thing? Isn’t that why you couldn’t come to my wedding?”

“Wow. You’re in rare form.” He moved around her and opened the door to the restaurant. “Somebody must be hangry,” he teased.

“I’m not hangry. Apparently, you are.” She walked through the door and stopped in front of the hostess stand. “I have to pee.”

The teenage hostess had a phone pressed to her ear. Her eyes widened at the sight of Libby’s dress and she muttered, “I’ve gotta go,” into the receiver. She hung up and stared at them for a long moment, her mouth hanging open. This was proof enough of the odd pair they made right now—Noah in his jeans, tight-fitting olive-green T-shirt, and athletic shoes, and Libby in her ridiculously opulent dress. And it was all the confirmation she needed that this was, in fact, a terrible idea. She started to turn around, but Noah grabbed her shoulders and turned her back to face the hostess.

“We need a table for two,” Noah said, wrapping an arm around her back and holding her firmly in place. “Something romantic if you have it. It’s her wedding night.”

Libby jerked her gaze up to meet his. He only grinned.

“And you’re eating at the Golden Cowboy Café?” the hostess asked in disbelief.

“Well . . . yeah,” Noah said. “Libby here has been talking about it ever since she heard about this place. She wanted to forgo the reception and drive straight from the wedding in Kansas City to the Golden Café.”

“Golden Cowboy Café,” Libby corrected, still grumpy.

“See?” Noah held out his hands. “But first she has to pee.”

“The restroom’s that way.” The hostess pointed to a short hall close to the entrance.

Moments after she entered the restroom, Libby realized she had a dilemma on her hands—there was no way she could maneuver her dress on her own in the tiny stall, and even if she wanted to take it off, which she didn’t, it was laced up the back.

Groaning, she peeked out the bathroom door. “Noah.”

He stood in the hall, his back against the wall. When he turned toward her, her breath seemed to stick in her throat. How many times had she looked at him, up close and personal even, but this was the first time he’d taken her breath away. She knew other women found him attractive—how could they not? His dark brown hair was slightly unruly, giving him a just-out-of-bed look, and his long-lashed dark brown eyes were usually sparkling with mischief. But now—tonight—there was something different about him.

He raised his eyebrows, and she remembered he was waiting for her to tell him why she’d called him. She resisted the urge to close the door and hide. What if he realized she was checking him out? He’d never let her forget it.

“I need help,” she forced herself to say.

Confusion flickered in his eyes. “How so?”

She cringed. God, this was embarrassing. “I can’t deal with this skirt.” She lifted handfuls of the full fabric and then dropped it to demonstrate its bulkiness.

Fear replaced confusion in his eyes. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I need you to hold this up so I can pee.”

He took a step back. “You want me to do what?”

She reached for him. “Get over yourself and help me before I pee myself. And if you dare to try and tell me it’s my problem, just remember you’ll have to ride in the car with my pee-soaked skirts.”

He rushed over and pushed her back into the bathroom. “What do you need me to do?”

She laughed at how quickly he was moving now. “I don’t know exactly how to do this. We’ll have to wing it.”

“You didn’t pee earlier?”

“No, I held it, which is why I really have to pee now. Aren’t you the one who said I had a thimble-sized bladder?”

“Well, yeah . . .”

She turned to face him, her back to a stall door. “I’ll back up and lift the skirt in the back with one hand and you hold it up in the front.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll see something down there?”

She snorted. “It’s highly unlikely, given the fact you’ll have about ten yards of crinoline in your face.”

“Why are you only using one hand to hold up the skirt?”

“So I can pull down my panties. What’s with all the questions? My bladder sphincter’s about to give out.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s disgusting.”

“Hey, it’s biology. Let’s do this.” She backed up, pushing the door open as she reached around her back. “Why aren’t you lifting?”

He looked startled as he followed her into the stall. “I didn’t know we were lifting yet.”

“Well, we are! Do it!”

He grabbed handfuls and started tugging upward. “Why are you still standing?”

“I can’t see the damn toilet beneath all of this crinoline. And I’m having trouble reaching my underwear.”

She could barely make out his expression from all the fabric in her face, but a sly grin lit up his eyes. “Lucky for you, I’m an expert at removing women’s panties. I volunteer as tribute.”

“You have your job, and I have mine.”

He shrugged playfully. “Just sayin’.”

Libby reached under her skirt and got her panties to her knees, but she felt unbalanced as she started to lower herself to the seat. “I’m afraid I’m going to miss.”

“You think you’re going to pee on my foot?” he asked in horror.

“No! I’m afraid I’m not going to land on the toilet. What if I miss the seat?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This stall is barely wide enough to hold the toilet. How could you miss it?”

She put one forearm on the side of the stall and inched herself down.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked. Now that she was in a crouched position, she could no longer see his face.

“I told you. I’m trying to find the damn toilet.”

“Would you hurry already? Someone’s going to walk in here and think I’m some pervert molesting a bride.”

“And this bothers you . . . ?” Her voice trailed off suggestively as she connected with the toilet seat. “Mission accomplished.”

“You’ve peed already?”

“No. I’m on the toilet seat.”

“You haven’t even started peeing?” His voice rose in dismay.

“I’m working on it.”

Libby heard the bathroom door hinges squeak open, then Noah’s voice. “Oh, hello. Don’t mind me.”

The door slapped shut in an instant.

Libby released a chuckle.

Noah chuckled. “I think we traumatized that poor woman. Are you finished?”

“No. I haven’t even started yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“You’re listening! I can’t pee knowing you’re going to hear it.”

“What the hell do you want me to do? Cover my ears? I can’t exactly do that without letting go of your dress!”

“Then hum. Or sing.”

“What do you expect me to sing?” he asked in disbelief.

“I don’t know!” she groaned. “How about ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall?”

“If I sing the damn song will you pee already?”

“Yes. Do it. This is getting painful.”

He groaned, but then began to sing. “Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer.”

Libby felt herself relax and began to pee.

“Take one down, pass it around—” He stopped singing. “Oh, my God. I think you’ve ruined beer for me forever.”

“You’re listening to me pee?” she shrieked.

The door opened again, and this time Noah oozed in a pseudo-cultured voice, “Good evening. I’m the Golden Cowboy Café bathroom attendant, and I’ll be happy to help you with your personal hygiene needs as soon as I’m done with the current customer.”

There was a several-second pause, the sound of the swooshing door, and then Noah said, “That’s the second woman who has run off in horror. If I get arrested, you better bail me out.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t have any money . . . or toilet paper.” She felt along the wall of the stall. “I think this stall is out, but my dress is hiding the dispenser anyway.”

“What do you want me to do about it? I’m holding up the front end.”

“Do you want me to drip dry?” she asked, annoyed.

“That’s what I do!” he protested.

“Newsflash, Noah. I can’t just give it a tiny shake and be done with it. That’s not how the female anatomy works.”

“I’m very familiar with the female anatomy.” The door hinges squeaked again. “Oh, hello, ma’am. That’s not as bad as it sounds, but while you’re here, could I ask a small favor? Would you mind reaching into that stall and grabbing us some toilet paper? The bride can’t find hers.”

“Are you in some kind of trouble, dear?” a phlegmy voice asked. “Is this some kind of sex-slave kidnapping? Were you forced to marry an old man against your will?”

“Old man?” Noah asked in horror.

Libby tried to push down her rising giggles. “No, ma’am. I’m just a regular bride trying to pee.”

“In the Golden Cowboy Café bathroom?”

Libby rolled her eyes, though she was aware the effect was lost on her audience. “Do you think you could grab some toilet paper for me? Noah’s hands are full and I don’t think I have any in here.”

“The Sizzler has nicer bathrooms.” The door to the next stall banged into the wall.

“The next time I get married and go out for steak while still in my wedding dress, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Oh, dear,” the woman said. “I hope you’re not one of those polygamists.”

“No, ma’am,” Libby said. “I couldn’t even handle one marriage. I think society is safe from any matrimonial deviancy from me.”

Noah’s hand reached over the top of her sea of silk and crinoline, handing her the toilet paper.

“Well, good luck, dear,” the woman called out, then her voice tightened in disapproval. “And you, young man. The least you could do is take your bride somewhere decent to eat. The Chinese buffet is just down the street.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Noah said in a chastised tone, echoing Libby’s previous statement. Several seconds later, he addressed Libby in a whisper, “Are you done yet?”

She stood, careful to keep the back of her skirt from touching the toilet. “I’m done; now back up so I can get out.” Her dress tugged her forward as Noah started to lower the skirt and she laughed when she saw his horrified face.

“Can we get out of here now?”

“I have to wash my hands first.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she made her way to the sink. “Personal hygiene. But then maybe you don’t think you need to wash after your little shake.” She winked at him in the mirror as she turned on the water.

“I’ll have you know it’s more than a little shake.”

She laughed.

“I suddenly feel the need to affirm my manhood.”

“The size of your shake has nothing to do with your manhood.”

He moved behind her, lightly pressing his chest to her back. “I’ll have you know it has everything to do with my manhood.”

“Too bad for you, I’ll never have it confirmed,” she teased.

A few days before she proposed to Mitch, Noah had suggested a change in their relationship. She’d refused, but not because the offer wasn’t tempting. In truth, she’d considered sleeping with him months ago, right after they first met. But she was with Mitch at the time, so she and Noah became friends instead. Now she marveled at everything she would have missed if she’d given in to her initial lust—the late-night talks about nothing and everything. The long walks in the park with her dog Tortoise. All the things she’d never done with a boyfriend.

Their friendship was more intimate and wonderful than any of her other relationships, but she knew who she was—and who he was, for that matter—and there was no way they could introduce sex to their friendship without ruining it. What they had was worth more than a few days—or months, at best—of what was sure to be amazing sex. But knowing it and accepting it were two different things.

When she turned off the water and reached for a paper towel, she caught his reflection in the mirror, and from the look on his face, she wondered if he was waging the same war.

Chapter Four

“Finally done?” Noah asked. “Let’s eat.”

Libby shook her head in disbelief. “You seriously still want to eat here?”

“Of course. I didn’t do all of this just to get back in the car.”

“Noah.”

“Get moving.” He opened the door to the hall, then grabbed her elbow and guided her out the door. He released his hold as they walked to the hostess stand.

Still wide-eyed, the hostess grabbed two menus. “You’re still here. I thought this was one of those TV shows. Especially with all those women running out of the bathroom.”

“Nope, just us,” Noah said. “And we’re starving, but remember, we’d appreciate something romantic.”

“Follow me.”

They walked through the Western-themed restaurant, drawing the attention of every guest and wait staff in the joint. Noah waved to one family and then pointed at Libby, lifting his eyebrows in a can you believe this look.

Libby smacked his arm. “Stop that!”

“What? I told you that you’d be the talk of the restaurant. It’s like being in a parade.”

“Then maybe you should go see the Cotton Bowl Parade with Mitch.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. The mention of her fiancé’s name—ex-fiancé’s name—reminded her of her selfishness as well as her public humiliation.

The hostess stopped and motioned to a corner booth. The seat back was dark stained beadboard and a lantern with a candle sat in the middle of the round table. She turned to Noah and grimaced. “This is the most romantic table I have.”

His grin spread from ear to ear. “It’s perfect.” He motioned for Libby to slide in and she glared up at him, waiting for him to change his mind. But his grin widened even more. Rolling her eyes, she surrendered, and he scooted around the opposite side.

The hostess placed their menus on the table. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“He’ll have a beer,” Libby said with saccharine sweetness, remembering his earlier comment in the bathroom.

The hostess shook her head. “Sorry. We don’t serve alcohol.”

Noah shuddered. “Thank God. I’ll have a water.”

Libby couldn’t resist a small grin. “Water too, please.”

The young woman looked eager to get away. “Your waitress will be right with you.”

“You frightened that poor girl,” Libby said, trying to ignore all the people staring at them.

“Why? Because I cringed when you ordered a beer?”

“No! Me. This dress. You coming on so strong.”

“Please,” he scowled good-naturedly. “Why would someone be afraid of a wedding dress? I wrestled it and lived to tell the tale. Now you . . . you’re on the cranky side tonight. She’s probably frightened of you.”

“I’m entitled to be cranky! I ran out on my own wedding!” The words came out louder than she’d intended, catching the attention of the people at the tables nearby—not that they hadn’t been openly staring in the first place. “How did we end up in Junction City? How far are we from Kansas City?”

“About two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Like I said, we’re here because you told me to keep going.”

“Yeah,” she waved her hands around in circles. “I meant drive around. Not take a road trip.”

He shrugged, looking unconcerned. “I made a judgment call.”

She pursed her lips and stared at the menu without really reading it, berating herself for her mistake. How could she have done this to Mitch without stopping to consider his feelings?

“Lib.”

His soft tone caught her attention, and when she looked at him, she was surprised by the seriousness in his eyes. She was used to teasing and humor from Noah, not this resolute side of him.

“What happened?”

Did she really want to admit what an idiot she’d been? Wasn’t the fact that she was sitting here in Junction City, Kansas, on her wedding night proof enough?

She opened her mouth, unsure of what exactly to tell him, but their waitress appeared and saved her from speaking. “Welcome to the Golden Cowboy Café. I hear you two are celebrating your wedding.”

“That’s right.” Noah’s wide smile returned. “We decided to make the wedding dinner an experience to remember.”

She put her hands on her hips. “So you came to the Golden Cowboy Café?” Her tone suggested she was calling bullshit.

Noah laid on the charm thick. “I hear your fried pickles are to die for. How about we start with those. Then I’ll take your eight-ounce sirloin, medium, with a baked potato, and the lovely bride will take the same.”

Libby started to protest that she could order her own food. But they had eaten enough meals together for him to know what she liked. Besides, hadn’t she made enough stupid choices lately to last a lifetime? Might as well let Noah decide on her meal.

The waitress walked away and Noah’s grin fell, his concern returning. “Libby, what happened?”

“I made a stupid decision, okay? Does that make you happy? You tried to stop me and I blew you off. Do you want to gloat now?”

“No. God, no.”

A tear slid down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb. She wasn’t prepared for the shot of electricity that zipped through her. Of course, it wasn’t the first time her body had reacted to his touch, but in her emotional state, she was worried she lacked the strength to restrain herself.

“Libby, you’re my best friend. I’d rather be dead wrong than see you hurt like this.” He left his hand in place, spreading his fingers to cup her cheek. “Now tell me what happened.”

Should she tell him about the curse? It was obviously a figment of her imagination. No sense looking like an even bigger idiot, but his touch was making it difficult for her to concentrate. “Megan, Blair, and I made a pact to get married by the time we were thirty.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “My birthday is next week.”

His eyes widened in surprise and his hand dropped. She felt a strange sense of loss without it.

“Really?” he asked, shaking his head. “Blair doesn’t seem like the type of woman to care about that sort of thing.”

“She’s not. We were all nine when we made the pact.”

“And they seriously went through with it? That’s why they got married?”

She shook her head and released a sigh. “No. They forgot about it. It was purely coincidence that they planned their weddings when they did.”

“So they got married according to the pact”—his voice trailed off as his eyes met hers and held them— “and you felt compelled to do the same.”

She glanced down at the table. “Something like that.”

“Oh, Lib.”

“It was stupid, I know. Idiotic. Moronic. I’m the—”

“Stop. It’s so you. I love it . . . even if you picked the wrong guy.”

She narrowed her eyes, waiting for the but. “You’re kidding.”

“Libby, I’ve never met anyone with more gusto for life. I love your quirky ideas and beliefs, and I love that you believe in palm reading and pacts made by nine-year-old girls. It’s who you are.”

“But Mitch got caught up in this disaster. I literally ran away from the altar.”

“Come on. It’s Mitch. How broken up can he be? I’m sure he’ll be far more upset if the Razorbacks don’t make the Cotton Bowl.”

She shook her head. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but what I did was wrong.”

“Okay, it was wrong. You screwed up, but you’re owning it. If you’re worried about Mitch, why don’t you give him a call to apologize?”

“I don’t have my phone.”

“I’d give you mine, but it’s dead. And in my hurry to pack, I forgot my charger.”

She shook her head, remembering that he was supposed to be thousands of miles away. “Why aren’t you in Seattle? You told Josh you weren’t coming.”

He gave her a sad smile. “Just like you, I realized I’d screwed up. I raced to make my flight . . . only to discover it was delayed. That’s why I was late.”

She tilted her head. “What about Donna?”

“What about her?”

“I thought you had a thing with her.”

He shrugged again. “I canceled it.”

“If you were planning to come to the wedding, where’s your tux? You told me you were going to pick it up in Seattle because you changed your flight.”

“It’s in a garment bag in the trunk of the rental car. You didn’t expect me to wear it on the plane, did you?”

She lifted her eyebrows. “You do realize you’re talking to a woman who’s wearing a wedding dress in the Golden Cowboy Café?”

He laughed and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. Still, while she could live with the embarrassment, she couldn’t live with the guilt of hurting Mitch. Her laughter faded and she grew serious. “I still need to talk to him.”

Noah was quiet for a moment. “Do you know his number? Or is it just stored on your phone?”

“I know it.”

He slid out of the booth and walked over to the nearby table. The family of five sat watching them with great interest as Noah approached him. “I have a huge favor to ask.”

The wife stared up at him wide-eyed and the husband murmured, “Okay.”

“Libby here,” he pointed his thumb toward her. “She needs to make a phone call. And she got so freaking excited”—he stopped and looked down at the three kids at the table—“oh, damn. I just said freaking in front of your kids. Oh shit. I just said damn.”

Libby started to chuckle and the wife waved her hand, her gaze shifting back and forth between Noah and Libby. “They’ve heard worse. Go on.”

“Well, she got so excited at the idea of eating at the Golden Cowboy Café that she literally ran off and left her phone in Kansas City. Could she borrow yours? If you let her go outside and make a call, I’ll stay here as her deposit.”

“You can borrow mine if you’ll sit with us as a deposit,” shouted a woman who was sitting at a nearby table with three female friends. The other women giggled.

“Sure, on one condition,” the wife said, speaking up to get his attention.

“Okay . . .”

“I want a picture with the bride.”

Noah glanced back at Libby, his eyebrows raised in an exaggerated gesture.

She hesitated, her stomach protesting the call she was about to make. “Sure.”

Noah studied her for a moment before turning back to the family. “Tell you what, let’s let the bride make her call first, then she’ll be available for a photo after.”

The wife handed him her phone, which Noah brought over to Libby. After helping her to her feet, he stooped to whisper in her ear. “If you don’t feel up to taking the photo after you talk to Mitch, I’ll get you out of it.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

A strange look crossed his face. “Haven’t you heard? Not following through and making up excuses are all that I’m good for. Now go make your call.” When she started to protest his declaration, he gave a slight push to the small of her back. “I’ll be here if you need me.”

Libby walked out of the restaurant, drawing another round of curious stares from the diners. But she ignored them and stepped out the door, immediately shivering in the November cold in her sleeveless wedding dress. Sucking in a deep breath, she typed in Mitch’s number and waited, feeling like she was going to throw up. He answered on the third ring. “Hello?” She could tell he was confused by the unfamiliar number.

“Mitch, it’s me.”

“Libby?” He sounded worried. And relieved.

“Yeah.”

“Where are you? Are you okay? When no one heard from you, we all worried you got kidnapped after you hopped into that stranger’s car.”

She shook her head, feeling like the world’s biggest bitch. “How can you be so nice to me after I ran out on you like that?”

“Libby. I still care about you. You running out doesn’t change that.”

“I’m sorry.” She choked on the words.

“Was it the Razorback call? Or the play from the Cotton Bowl?”

“Oh, Mitch . . .”

“It’s okay, Libs. Really.” There was a pause on the line, and then he added, “I was having doubts this week, but I didn’t want to be that asshole who broke up with his fiancée before the wedding.”

“You were?”

“Yeah . . .” He sounded embarrassed. “Remember me telling you about my old college girlfriend?”

“Sheila?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Well, she called me up this week . . . and I . . . I’m sorry.”

So he’d cheated on her. She could hear it in his voice, yet she didn’t care. It would have been hypocritical to care given that she’d only arranged to marry him in the hopes that another man would come along and destroy their wedding. “Mitch, believe it or not, I really do want you to be happy.”

“So this worked out for both of us?” he asked, sounding like he didn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah.” She laughed, wiping a tear from her cheek. Karma was a real bitch, but this was what she deserved for treating him like crap. It sounded like Mitch had found his match, and Libby was still alone. “I suppose it did.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Libby. I knew all along I wasn’t it. I should have ended things months ago, but you were like the perfect woman, you know? Gorgeous and laid back, and you didn’t even care that I was gone so much. I couldn’t understand why we just didn’t feel right, but I figured it would all work out in the end.”

She sighed. “Me too.”

“Take care of yourself. And if you haven’t already, call Megan and Blair. They’re flipping their shit.”

She cringed. “Thanks.”

She hung up and called Megan, figuring she would probably be the easier to deal with of her two friends.

“Hello?” Megan answered tentatively.

“Megan, it’s me.”

“Oh, my God! Are you okay? Blair’s raising holy hell because the police won’t put out an Amber Alert for you.”

“Amber Alerts are for children.”

“Everyone’s told her that . . . not that she cares. She was certain you were kidnapped. Where are you?”

A sharp wind hit her, making her shiver with cold. “Junction City, Kansas.”

“What? How did you get there?”

“Noah just drove—”

“Noah? How could you be with Noah? He’s in Seattle.”

“No, he changed his mind and flew to Kansas City, but his plane was delayed, which is why he was late. He was driving the car I got into.”

There was a long moment of silence, then Megan said, “So you planned this?” There was a sharp edge to her voice now.

“What? No!”

Megan was silent for another beat. “Why did you run away, Libby?” she finally asked.

What should she say? “I was scared. It was all too much.” Both true.

“You never intended to marry Mitch, did you?”

Oh, God. She’d figured it out. Libby’s face burned with embarrassment. “How can you say that?”

“Because you believed in the curse more than any of us. And after what happened to Blair and me, of course you’d think the same thing would happen to you.”

How could she respond? Megan was right, but that didn’t mean she wanted to own up to it.

“I’d ask you how far you were willing to let it go, but I guess we all got front row seats to that answer.”

The condemnation in her words stabbed Libby in the heart. In all the time she’d known Megan, she’d never sounded so judgmental.

“Why shouldn’t I believe in the curse?” Libby asked, wrapping an arm across her chest in an effort to block out the cold. “It worked out exactly like the fortune teller told us it would for you and Blair. She said the curse covered all three of us. It should have worked!”

“The curse isn’t real, Libby!” Megan lowered her voice. “You’ve pulled some crazy things before, but this . . . Think about what you did to Mitch. You left that poor man at the altar, when you had no intention of marrying him at all.”

“I’ve already talked to Mitch. His old girlfriend called him this week. Turns out he didn’t want to marry me either, but he felt bad about breaking up with me right before the wedding.”

“Libby, that doesn’t make it right.”

Anger roared in Libby’s head. “You know what, you’re one hundred percent correct. It doesn’t make it right. Not even close. I feel like a bitch and I already apologized to Mitch. But let me ask you this, Megan Vandemeer McMillan: Who stood by you when you paraded a fake fiancé around claiming he was Jay? And who helped you realize that he was the love of your life? Me. That’s right, me!” She stamped her foot for effect, sending pain shooting up from her heel to her shin. “I stood by you because you’re my friend. I’m sorry if you think it’s too much for me to ask you to do the same!”

“Oh, God, Libby,” Megan said, sounding horrified. “You’re right. I’m so sorry.”

“Too little, too late.” Then she hung up and sucked in a deep breath of cold Kansas air. Megan’s words had stung, but there was no denying they were true. She’d been irresponsible and self-centered, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. She felt a sudden need to see Noah. He’d make her feel better. He always did. Turned out he really was her best friend.

Chapter Five

Noah anxiously glanced at the door for what had to be the hundredth time, wondering if he should go outside. Calling Mitch had to be difficult for her. What if she needed support? After five minutes passed this way, he decided to go after her, if only to give her his jacket, but the door opened and she walked into the restaurant with a strange look on her face.

She stopped at the table of the woman who’d lent them the phone, plastering what he recognized as a fake smile on her face. “Do you want to take that photo now?

The woman hopped out of her chair and raced around to stand next to Libby, pausing only to hand the proffered phone to her husband. “Get close up, Bill. No full body shot. I don’t want my fat rolls showing.” She turned to Libby. “I’m posting this on social media. No one will believe this, so I need proof.”

Libby’s smile widened as she faced the camera. After several clicks, Libby turned to face the woman. “Thank you so much for letting me use your phone. If you get a call from a woman named Megan, please tell her I said to go to hell,” she said in a sweet voice.

Noah’s blood pressure began to rise. So she’d called his sister-in-law, and apparently Megan had been a bitch about the whole runaway bride thing.

The woman’s head jutted back in surprise, and then she laughed. “Will do. I’m sure there’s a story there.” She cast a wicked glance at Noah and winked before leaning close to Libby and whispering something in her ear.

Libby’s eyes widened and she shook her head, mouthing the word no, but the woman ignored her and sat down with her family.

By the time Libby returned to the booth, the fake smile had slipped from her face.

“Lib? Did you get ahold of Mitch?”

“What?” She glanced up at Noah. “Yeah.”

“And?”

She released a heavy breath. “He’s actually pretty okay. He said he was having doubts too. Turns out his old college girlfriend contacted him this week . . .” Her voice trailed off, but he thought he heard her mumble something about a curse working for Mitch.

“So he’s not mad?”

“What?” She looked startled. “No. He’s not mad in the least.”

“But Megan is.”

She shivered. “Yes. I don’t know. I hung up on her.”

Her shaking drew his attention to the goosebumps on her arms, and he remembered she’d been standing outside in forty-degree weather in her sleeveless dress. He scooted around to her and pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

She stiffened at the contact, which caught him off guard. He’d hugged her plenty of times before and she’d never reacted like that. But she instantly relaxed and leaned the back of her neck against his arm.

“What did Megan say?”

“You’re warm.” She snuggled into him and closed her eyes.

He’d sat close to her more times than was probably appropriate given the fact she’d had a boyfriend. Somehow this was different. Libby was a stunningly beautiful woman, but tonight, in her wedding dress, she was beyond gorgeous. He’d spent so much time sneaking glances at her while she was asleep in the car, it was a wonder he hadn’t run off the road. But now her face was tilted toward him, and her cheeks seemed to glow in the warm light of the restaurant. Strands of her thick, dark hair had worked loose from her non-fussy up-do. As she snuggled closer to him, her lips softened and the worry wrinkles on her forehead faded. He was staring at her long, dark eyelashes when her eyes opened, and he found himself lost in her gaze.

He expected her to pull away, but she remained still, her rich dark eyes staring back at him. She looked so serene, so beautiful, he found himself drawn to her—the force so powerful it was almost magnetic. He started to lean over to kiss her, the instinct so strong it overrode all reason.

“Here’s two steaks for the happy couple,” the waitress singsonged in a happy voice.

Startled, Noah jerked upright and Libby scooted out from under his arm. Had she realized what he was about to do? God, he hoped not. He wanted more with her, but now wasn’t the time. A month ago, she’d made it perfectly clear how she felt about them moving past friendship, and he had to confess, she had valid points even if he hoped to persuade her she was wrong. But he’d rather have her in his life as his friend than not at all, and he’d never forgive himself if he screwed it up with her. Let him fuck up everything else in his life, but not this. Not her. As the waitress slid their plates onto the table, he was already working on excuses if Libby decided to call him out.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked. “Steak sauce? Ketchup?”

Libby looked around the table. “Where are Noah’s fried pickles?”

The waitress cringed. “Sorry about that. I have to admit, you’ve got the kitchen staff fit to be tied. They keep poking their heads out the door to get a look at you instead of doing their jobs. They’ll be right out.”

Noah didn’t care about the pickles. He only wanted the waitress to leave so he could assess the fallout from his near mistake. When Libby picked up her fork and knife without saying anything, he decided to ignore that it had ever happened. “So you and Mitch are okay?”

“Yeah.” She kept her gaze on her plate as she sawed on her steak. “He wished me well, but then that’s Mitch. He’s awesome like that.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“What?” Her gaze jerked up to his. “No. I didn’t really love him.” A tiny grin twisted her lips. “And if I had to listen to one more Razorback call, I think I may have killed him before our first anniversary. Did I tell you the wedding was Razorback themed?”

“What?” he laughed, relieved she’d let their awkward moment pass. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. He wore an Arkansas printed tie and socks. Megan and Blair wore red dresses, and he had a Hog groom’s cake.” Grinning, she stabbed a piece of her steak. “In his vows, he used a play from the 2010 Cotton Bowl game.”

“Why in the world did you agree to that?” He couldn’t imagine her going along with any of it.

She shrugged. “It’s what he wanted.”

“Doesn’t the bride typically get what she wants?” He couldn’t understand why she’d proposed to Mitch, but it absolutely astonished him that she’d let him plan the entire wedding. She loved weddings and everything about them. Heck, she’d probably started planning her big day when she was a middle-schooler collecting images cut out of magazines. None of this made sense.

She shrugged again, not looking up at him.

“Libby.”

She lifted her gaze to his.

He paused. “Yeah, Mitch is a great guy, but he wasn’t the right guy for you.” He held up his hand in case she started to protest. “And no, this isn’t me gloating.”

Something like regret filled her eyes. “You have every right.”

He gave a small shake of his head. “Nope. Not even a little.” He turned serious. “But one day, you’ll meet a guy who can give you the kind of love your friends have found, because that’s what you deserve, Libby. A guy who will stand by your side no matter what, then sweep you off your feet while he’s giving you the stars and moon.” He hoped that guy was him, particularly since a band of jealousy coiled around his heart at the notion of some other man giving that to her. The feeling was unsettling; he’d never been jealous like this before.

Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t think I’m going to find that, Noah. It’s too late.”

“Bullshit. You’re not even thirty yet.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

A soft smile lit up her face. “You’re the only man who’s ever liked me for me.”

“What does that mean?”

“Guys always see the outside. They rarely pay attention to the inside.”

Guilt washed through him. How many times had he been so dazzled by a woman’s beauty, he’d ignored everything else about her? And while he’d seen firsthand how many men openly gawked at Libby, it had never occurred to him to ask how she felt about it. “Not every man is like that, Lib. Look at Josh.” And me. But he couldn’t tell her that. She was still raw over her breakup with Mitch. He didn’t want to be her rebound.

She pursed her lips and didn’t answer.

He decided to change the subject, although he wasn’t sure the one he was moving on to was any safer. “So you called Megan.”

She sighed. “Mitch said she and Blair were freaking out.” A grin cracked her lips. “Blair thought I’d been kidnapped and wanted the police to issue an Amber Alert.”

“Wait. Isn’t that for—”

“Yeah. For kids. Megan says she was irritated when they wouldn’t do it.”

Noah chuckled. “Sounds like Blair.” He paused. “What did Megan say about you running off?”

She scowled. “Nothing good.”

“I gathered that from the fact that you suggested a complete stranger tell your best friend to go to hell.”

She grinned up at him, a new playfulness in her eyes. Relief spread warmth through his veins. She had every reason to be upset, but it killed him to see her that way. He’d do anything to keep her happy.

He gave her a cocky grin. “Since you were supposed to get married, I take it you’ve got a few days off for your honeymoon.”

“Well . . . yeah. I postponed all my photo shoots for the next couple of weeks.”

“Where were you going for a honeymoon?”

“We were supposed to go to Santa Fe, New Mexico, but then Mitch’s high school football team made it into a playoff game. So we canceled the trip.”

“But you still have time off?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Let’s go on a road trip.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“No. We’re already in Junction City. Why not just keep going?”

“How about the fact that I don’t have any clothes on me besides this wedding dress?”

“So we’ll buy you more clothes.”

“Noah, I don’t have any money. Or a cell phone. Or a form of ID for that matter.”

“Then I’ll pay for the trip.” When she started to protest, he held up a hand. “Consider it a non-wedding present. Or if you’d like, consider it your kidnapper providing for your basic needs.”

“And you can take off work just like that? I thought you guys were in the middle of a merger that was sucking away all your free time.”

He considered telling her the truth—in fact, he was dying to tell her the truth. She was the one person who would understand how he felt. She knew how hard he’d been trying with the family business. But this was about Libby right now, not him. His problems weren’t going anywhere. He could wait. “Lucky for you, I took time off.”

She ate several more bites before looking up at him. “So where would we go?”

He grinned. “Wherever we want. In fact, I declare tomorrow Libby St. Clair Day.”

“Does that mean I get to pick where we go?”

His eyes narrowed. “Where do you want to go?”

She laughed. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to learn the rules.”

“The rules are we don’t do anything responsible. We just have fun.”

Her lips pursed as she considered it, then she grinned and held out her hand. “Deal.”

“Deal.” He shook her hand, holding it a few seconds longer than necessary before releasing it.

She leaned toward him. “So where are we going?”

Then he knew how to make it really fun for her. He’d never met anyone who loved surprises more than Libby. “I’ve decided not to tell you. You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“You have no idea.”

“I guess you’ll find out.” She was right, but he’d never admit it. But as long as she continued to look this happy, he’d figure out how to get her to the moon if she wanted to go there.

Chapter Six

Over the course of their dinner, Libby relaxed and tried to forget the wedding gone wrong. Several of the customers—and even the staff—grew bold enough to ask for photos with her. Some, like the woman who’d cat-called him, wanted a photo with Noah. By the time they finally left, Libby had taken a photo with almost everyone in the restaurant. The restaurant manager even offered to comp their bill if Libby would let him hang his photo with her by the entrance.

When Noah held the door to the parking lot open for her, she felt happier—and freer—than she had in months, even if she was freezing. “Now what?” she asked.

“I think we should find a hotel and stay in Junction City tonight. Your photo session took over forty-five minutes and now you’re all over my Twitter feed. Did you have to give them your Twitter handle?”

“Why not?” she teased as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked her to the passenger door. “Garrett got his fifteen minutes of fame when he was on his way to break up Blair’s wedding. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because, Libby St. Clair,” Noah leaned close, his breath warm on her cheek, “you are a dazzling star who can’t be reduced to a few tweets of you posing for photos in a Kansas steak house wearing a wedding dress.”

“Cut the bullshit, Noah.”

“I mean every word.” And strangely enough, he sounded like he did.

Overcome with gratitude and something else that warmed her insides, she threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

He pulled her close, but slowly, as though she might break. “What did I do?”

“You took a miserable night and made it more than bearable.”

“That’s what best friends are for, right?”

She leaned back and looked into his face. “Who knew you’d be so good at this best friend thing?”

A strange look crossed his face. “Yeah. Who knew?” He broke loose and opened the car door. “You need to get in the car before you freeze.”

After he got in and turned on the engine, he turned to look at her. “So find a hotel here in Junction City?”

“Yeah.”

“I saw a sign for a decent-looking place when I turned off the interstate. Let’s try it.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the hotel, both of them keeping quiet during the short drive.

When he parked in front of the entrance, he turned to her. “Wait for me to come around and get you.”

“Why?”

“It’s freezing outside, and you’re wearing a sleeveless dress. I’m going to pull a jacket out of my suitcase for you.”

“I’ll be fine.” She pushed the door open and scrambled out, forgetting that it would take more effort than usual with all the material of her skirt. The next thing she knew, Noah was there next to her, offering her his hand. She looked up at him with a scowl. “I said I could do it.”

“And I’m sure you can, but why not let me help you?”

How could she explain to him what she didn’t understand herself? She’d always had trouble accepting help from other people, but for some reason, right now she found it even more difficult to accept help from him.

He helped her out and she landed against his chest. He snaked his arm around her back and pulled her closer to keep her steady. An unexpected wave of heat washed through her when she looked into his eyes. She’d learned to tame her lust for Noah after months of friendship. So why did it feel like such a struggle tonight?

She pulled free and started walking toward the entrance. Noah fell in step beside her, thankfully not mentioning their awkward embrace.

There were less than half a dozen people in the lobby, so Libby was less of a spectacle here than she’d been in the restaurant. Noah stopped and turned toward her, looking uncomfortable. “Do you want two rooms?”

Libby’s heart stuttered. What was the right way to answer that? She didn’t want to be alone, but she was too humiliated to admit it.

But he misinterpreted her hesitation. He nodded and put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I don’t mind the extra money.”

She grabbed his arm to stop him as he started toward the front desk. “No. One room is good. We can just get two beds. No need to spend the extra money. Besides,” she added in a rush, “you’ve spent the night in my apartment before. This is no different.” But it was very different and she could see he knew it too.

He studied her face with a seriousness she wasn’t used to from him. “Are you sure? Maybe you just want to be alone. I understand if you do.”

“The last thing I want is to be alone right now.” Her voice broke and she realized that made her sound needy. She’d trained herself years ago not to appear needy. Needy women sent men running to the hills. But this wasn’t any man. This was Noah. Her friend. That’s what friends were for, right?

Sadness filled his eyes, and he pulled her into a hug. “Oh, Lib.”

She was acutely aware that the few people in the lobby and the desk clerk were staring at them like they were a daytime soap. But she just rested her head on his chest for several seconds, amazed by the peace she felt in his arms. Everything seemed so much less hopeless when she was with Noah.

He kissed her forehead, then set her loose. “One room it is.”

Noah approached the front desk and rested his forearm on the counter, ignoring the shocked look on the clerk’s face. “We need a room with two beds.”

If possible, the clerk’s eyes grew even wider. “Uh . . .” He shook his head and tried to regain his composure. “Two beds? For your wedding night?”

“She’s a kicker,” Noah said with a straight face. “She kneed me in the groin only a month ago and now I’m less one testicle.” He leaned his forearm on the counter and glanced around. Ignoring the openly staring couple in the lobby, he lowered his voice to a stage whisper. “I’ll have you know, that was a difficult one to explain to the insurance company.”

The man’s gaze shifted to Libby before swinging back to Noah. He swallowed. “Umm . . . we don’t have any rooms with two beds, sir. Only a room with a king-size bed. Maybe you should go somewhere else.”

Noah stared down at her with an uncertain look in his eyes, but she nodded her approval.

Turning back to the employee, Noah shrugged and said with an air of resignation, “We did marry for better or worse. In sickness and in testicular injuries. I only hope she doesn’t jostle the prosthesis. How quickly can first responders get here?” The clerk still appeared alarmed, but Noah shook his head. “Never mind. We’ll take it.”

The clerk refused to make eye contact as he quickly checked them in and handed Noah the room keys. “You’re on the second floor, sir”—then he tacked on—“and congratulations.” Although he seemed somewhat uncertain that congratulations were indeed in order.

Noah placed his hand on the small of her back and shepherded her toward the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, he kept his hand on her back even after they were inside. She could feel the heat of his touch through her dress. Determined not to let him know how he was affecting her, she fought to keep her breathing slow and even.

Think of something, Libby thought. Think of something to keep your mind off throwing yourself at him. “I made you lose your testicle?”

“What other reason could I give him for not wanting to sleep with my beautiful bride?” His voice was tight, but his hand remained on her back.

That certainly didn’t take her mind off her hormones. Think of something else. “You forgot your bag,” she said.

“I’ll get it once you’re settled in the room.”

She looked up at him in surprise, but he kept his gaze on the elevator doors. Then the doors opened and he was ushering her out of the elevator and leading her down the hall to their room. She couldn’t help noticing how he’d taken charge tonight—she hadn’t seen him this focused once in the five months they’d known each other.

He pushed the door open and waited for her to walk through.

The first thing Libby noticed was the giant king-size bed, which didn’t seem so giant when she thought about sleeping in it with Noah. As she’d reminded him downstairs, he’d stayed overnight at her place multiple times, yet the closest they’d ever come to sleeping together was snoozing on opposite sides of her sofa. She wasn’t sure she could spend the night in that bed with him without acting on this . . . this whatever was happening to her tonight.

If Noah was affected by the sight of the bed, he didn’t let on. “I’ll be back. Are you okay here?”

His attentiveness made her smile. “I don’t need a babysitter. Go already.”

He paused in the doorway and glanced back her, the warmth in his eyes catching her off guard. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. Part of the best friend gig, right?”

“Yeah. Right.”

He pulled the door shut, and she sat on the edge of the bed and heaved a loud sigh. She may have napped earlier, but she was weary. She laid back on the bed and covered her eyes with her arm.

What was she supposed to do now?

She’d believed in the curse hook, line, and sinker. What reason would she have had for doubt? Megan and Blair’s weddings had both gone according to the curse plan. But hers . . .

If the curse was wrong, it threw everything else in her life into question.

The only way she’d gotten through her childhood was by believing in magic and fate. That she was like Cinderella and some man would finally love her. But if magic didn’t exist and fate was coincidence, how was she supposed to find her happily ever after? What if she never found someone to love her, really love her? Her father had left when she was a baby. Her mother cared for her in her own way, but she was always too busy finding her next lay to spend much time with her. Maybe she was just unlovable.

“Lib?”

She moved her arm, surprised to see Noah was already back. “That was fast.”

“It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there. I didn’t waste any time.” He sat on the bed, looking down at her. “You okay?”

Sighing, she sat up.

“I’m fine.”

He grinned. “Liar.”

“I am.”

“Only a true narcissist could be fine after what you’ve been through. And I’ve always had you pegged as only half a narcissist. Don’t tell me I’ve had it all wrong.”

She laughed, and then before she realized what was happening, she started crying.

Noah pulled her to his chest, rubbing slow circles on her back. When she finally settled down, he said, “Let’s get you out of that dress.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I was about to suggest you wear nothing,” he teased, “but given the situation, how about you wear one of my T-shirts? Okay?”

She nodded, hating that she’d broken down like that. She’d brought this on herself, which meant she didn’t deserve to cry. She sucked in a deep breath, then stood. “I need help getting my dress off.”

His smile was a touch self-deprecating. “Lucky for you, getting women out of their clothes is my specialty.”

“Save the tales of your exploits for another time.” She knew he’d undressed plenty of women, but for some reason the thought irritated her. She turned and presented her back to him. He tugged on the laces at the rise of her ass.

“Good God. Is this a wedding dress or a chastity belt?” he groaned as he fought to work the laces loose.

“Megan might have been overly aggressive in pulling them tight.”

“I guess she didn’t want Mitch to have easy access.” His hands stilled as he groaned. “God, Lib. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “Don’t be. It is what it is.” What would he think if he found out she’d never intended to marry Mitch at all? Would he judge her like Megan had? She couldn’t take the risk.

Once he got the bottom strings free, the rest unlaced more quickly, loosening the dress enough for her to take it off.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asked. “I’ll pull a T-shirt out of my bag and leave it on the counter while you’re in there.”

Holding the front of her dress to her chest, she turned and looked up at him. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she blurted out.

Surprise washed over his face. “I thought we’d already been over that. You’ve had a shitty day and I’m being a good friend.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “Look, today and tomorrow are your days—”

“You really plan to make tomorrow Libby St. Clair Day?”

He grinned. “You bet your sweet ass I do, but before you think I’m being chivalrous, consider this: Maybe I’ll have a shitty day next week, and then I’ll expect you to wait on me hand and foot. Paybacks are awesome.”

He was almost self-centered enough to make her believe his explanation. Almost. “So you’re like the ant in the ant and the grasshopper story.”

He held up his hands in protest. “If I have to be a bug, I’d rather be a scorpion.”

She shook her head and moved closer to him. “A scorpion is more like a spider than an insect, and even so, you’re not a spider.” She grinned. “More like a roly poly.”

Mock anger filled his eyes. “You’re dead to me, woman. I guess you’ll be sleeping in the buff tonight.”

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

He pulled her into a hug. “Always, Lib,” he said. “I mean it.”

And she could tell that he did, which made her feel bad for doubting him earlier at the church.

Maybe there was hope for Noah McMillan yet.

Chapter Seven

Noah set his carry-on bag on the bed. When he heard the water in the shower turn on, he stopped unzipping the suitcase and took a deep breath. Libby was in the other room—naked—and his thoughts raced into dangerous territory.

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman.

Part one of his plan had come to fruition without his involvement—the wedding had been aborted—but now what did he do? Libby had shot down his proposition a month ago. Could he really risk laying it on the line? The thought terrified him—what if she refused to give them a try?—but right now it didn’t matter. While he might be ready to give their relationship a shot, she’d only just broken up with Mitch. This was hardly the time to make his feelings known to her.

He pulled out a T-shirt and cautiously pushed the bathroom door open. Her wedding dress lay in a giant puddle of fabric on the floor. “Lib, I’m putting my shirt on the counter.”

“Thanks.”

He set it next to her towel, then picked up her dress and carried it out with him, shutting the door behind him. Holding it up in front of him, he studied the silk gown. Based on what she’d told him about her football-centric disaster of a wedding, this was probably the only part of the whole affair that had truly been her. Unsure of what to do with it, he laid it across the back of the desk chair—the skirt billowing everywhere—then pulled out another T-shirt for himself.

The bed loomed in the middle of the room, teasing him. He had no clue how they were going to handle sleeping together. For one thing, Noah usually slept in his briefs, which meant he had no pajama bottoms. He’d have to settle for wearing a T-shirt over them, but the feelings of protectiveness she’d stirred inside of him were also rousing other feelings that might not be so easy to hide if they were nearly naked and close together in bed.

He’d think about that later. Right now he had to figure out where they were going for Libby St. Clair Day. What would make her the happiest?

He gasped when the answer hit him, and he pulled out his laptop to search the Internet for wacky tourist attractions. He’d made a list and mapped a few out by the time she emerged from the bathroom, her damp hair hanging in loose waves over her shoulders and down her back. Her long sexy legs peeked out from under his shirt, which hung mere inches below the curve of her ass. Every nerve ending pinged at the sight of her and he resisted the urge to jump up and show her how much he wanted her. He forced himself to act natural.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

He slowly stood, trying to be nonchalant.

She nodded to his laptop. “You working?”

“Working?” he teased, even though the reminder that he was no longer employed made his stomach sink. “There’s no real work allowed on Libby St. Clair Day. Only play. I was planning it for us.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “What did you come up with?”

He shook his head and closed the lid. “It’s a surprise.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” He grabbed his T-shirt and toiletry bag. “I’m going to take a shower now.”

“All right.”

He grinned. There was a cute smirk on her face—the one she always got when she was up to something sneaky. “Feel free to try and figure out the password on my laptop. It’s unbreakable.”

Her eyes widened in mock indignation, but she didn’t try to protest. She knew he had her figured out.

When he emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, he found her on the bed, propped up against the headboard on a pile of pillows. The covers were pulled back, but her bare legs were tucked to the side and his computer was on her lap. She looked up, not even pretending to hide what she’d been doing.

God, he loved that about her.

“No luck, huh?” he asked smugly.

She started to respond, then stopped, lifting her gaze up from his legs to his face. “No.”

Was she bothered by his lack of pants? The shirt he’d picked covered all the essential parts in the front, but left his briefs-covered ass exposed in the back. Libby wasn’t the kind of woman to be offended by naked bodies. If anything, her art background made her appreciate the human form more than most people. So if it wasn’t his body in general, did that mean she was affected by him?

Could she want him too?

His pulse quickened at the thought, but he told himself that he had to take this slow. She needed time, and right now she needed him to be her friend. And while it was no secret that Noah had slept with more women than was respectable, Libby had her own more-than-healthy share of short-lived relationships.

Lately he’d found himself in the strange situation of offering others advice in matters of the heart, so he made himself take a step back and fill that role for himself. What advice would he give another person in his situation? He’d encouraged Garrett to go for it, but Garrett had only had days to convince Blair to cancel her wedding. Libby had already run out of hers. He’d gotten to know Libby well enough to realize she was vulnerable now. It wouldn’t take much to convince her to sleep with him, but he also knew her well enough to realize that if she did sleep with him, it would be as a short-term emotional Band-Aid.

Of course, a short-term fling could blossom into something more, but when they slept together, he wanted her fully committed to making this thing between them work. His thought process stunned him. He’d never before given any consideration to how a woman would feel about sleeping with him. Only that she did.

What the hell had happened to him? Of course, the answer was simple, even if it had taken him months to figure it out: Libby St. Clair.

“Noah?”

She had to wonder why he was just standing there, gawking at her. What had they been talking about? Oh, yeah. His password.

“My laptop is more secure than Fort Knox.” He moved to the other side of the bed and sat down, trying to act like sitting next to her on the bed they were going to sleep in together was no big deal.

“Is that a challenge?” Her voice rose with excitement.

“Sure, if that makes you happy. I’d prefer to call it a worthless endeavor.”

She closed the computer and handed it to him. He set it on the nightstand, worried he’d stolen her playfulness, but while she wasn’t bursting with happiness, she wasn’t frowning either.

He started to slide closer to her, but there was a knock at the door. Libby stiffened, her body tense with anxiety, and Noah slid off the bed. “I’ll check and see who it is.”

He peered through the peephole, and was surprised to see a hotel employee with a room service tray. “You must have the wrong room,” he said, opening the door. “We didn’t order anything.”

The older man dressed in black pants and a white long-sleeved shirt paired with a black bow tie cleared his throat. “Compliments of the hotel. For your wedding night.” His eyes shifted to Noah’s crotch, but he abruptly lifted his gaze and held out a tray with a bottle of champagne, two plastic cups, and a piece of shriveled angel food cake.

Noah tried to hide his grin as he took the tray.

“Is it true?” the man asked. “Did she . . . you know?”

Noah gave a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back and lowering his voice. “Yeah, she’s vicious in bed. I can show you the foot-long scar if you like. It’s still pretty fresh.”

The man’s eyes widened and he turned around, muttering, “No thank you, no thank you,” before hurrying down the hall to the elevator.

Noah carried the tray into the room and kicked the door shut behind him.

“A foot long?” Libby commented with raised brows. “I’m sure there’s some psychological delusion of grandeur there.”

Noah grinned as he set the tray on the dresser, trying to think of things other than his exaggerated twelve inches and the woman on the bed. His T-shirt wouldn’t hide much. “How about some champagne?”

Her smile fell. “Champagne is for celebrating and there is nothing to celebrate.”

“I disagree.” Noah twisted off the cork and quickly filled the plastic cups, then carried them over to the bed and sat down, one leg still dangling off the side. “Here.”

She refused to take it. “No. I told you we have nothing to celebrate.”

“Of course we do. How about the fact you dodged a bullet today? You could have married a man you didn’t really love, but you came to your senses at the last minute.”

He held it out to her again and she reluctantly took it this time. “That doesn’t seem like something to be proud of.”

He looked her in the eyes. “It took guts, Lib. Do you know how many people would have just stood there and gone through with it?”

Some emotion washed over her face, but it passed too quickly for him to register. She looked up with a smile. “How about we celebrate the fact I haven’t kicked you in the other ball . . . yet.”

He burst out laughing. “I’ll drink to that, although I resent the tacked-on yet.”

She clacked her glass against his, then took a healthy gulp.

He took a sip of his own champagne and said, “Looks like we’ll need more of this.” He got up and grabbed the bottle and the cake, setting the bottle on the nightstand before sitting down again. “Do you want the cake?”

“Angel food?” she asked. “Doesn’t sound appropriate for either one of us. You and I are more like devil’s food, don’t you think?” Her teasing tone removed the sting.

“Maybe it’ll be a good influence on us.” He picked it up off the plate and held it up to her mouth.

Hesitation flickered in her eyes for a few seconds, but she leaned forward and took a bite. She grabbed the cake out of his hand and held it up to him, lifting her eyebrows playfully.

As she held the cake in front of his face, he realized why she’d held back for a moment. Without realizing what he was doing, he’d reenacted the cake part of a wedding reception.

She put the cake on the plate, then finished off her cup of champagne. He grabbed the bottle and poured more for her.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “Watch some TV? Go to sleep?”

“TV. I don’t think I can sleep.”

He reached for the remote and clicked on the TV, scrolling through the channels until he found an episode of Friends. The goal was to put her at ease. They’d watched plenty of movies together at her apartment, and sometime he’d sit behind her and rub her back. “I’ll rub your back if you like.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, turn around.”

She drank the rest of her champagne and handed him the cup before scooting closer.

“Why don’t you lay your head on my legs, close enough for me to reach your back.”

“Okay.”

She maneuvered so that she lay sideways, her head resting on his upper thighs. His hand rested on her back. It should have been no big deal; they’d watched TV on her sofa before, but never this intimately.

He stayed still for a moment, letting her relax on him before he began to rub over her T-shirt, shifting slightly so she couldn’t see his arousal at the sight of her sexy legs and barely covered ass. She sighed with contentment and soon her breathing evened, her body sagged into his, and he realized she’d fallen asleep.

To his surprise his arousal faded, shifting to something deeper—the need to make sure she felt protected and comforted. He realized even if she made a move, he would turn her down. That so wasn’t his style, but he didn’t want to blow their chance on what she could potentially see as a one-night fling.

The episode ended and he turned off the TV, then tried to decide if he should disturb her to turn off the light.

She shifted slightly, then lifted her head to look at him. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay, I’m tired too.” He reached up and flipped the switch, flooding the room with darkness.

She scooted off him but stayed close. “Noah? Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything . . . well, except for buying you tampons. A guy has to draw the line somewhere.”

She laughed. “You’re safe there . . . for now.”

He grinned in the dark. “What’s your favor?”

She paused, and when she finally answered, her voice sounded unsure. “Will you hold me?”

He didn’t answer, just rolled onto his side and reached for her, pulling her back to his chest, bending his hips back in case touching her aroused him again.

She put her hand over his. “You’re the only one who stood by me today.”

The thought sobered him. How could that be? He was the least responsible of all of her friends. He instinctively pulled her closer. “Oh, Lib. I’ll always be there for you. I promise. I’m sorry I said I wasn’t coming. If I’d kept my original flight yesterday, maybe I could have helped you change your mind.”

Her head rubbed against his chest as she shook it. “No. You couldn’t have. I was sure I knew what I was doing.”

The sadness in her voice wrecked him. “It’s over. Tomorrow is Libby Day and we won’t mention any of this at all, okay? Just fun.”

“Okay.”

Soon her breath evened again, and he drifted off to sleep too, wondering if this was what contentment felt like. If it was, he knew he wanted it with her.

Chapter Eight

Libby woke facing Noah, their legs intertwined. For a few moments she was confused and horrified. Had she had sex with him? But the thought barely had the chance to form before she remembered everything. He’d only held her.

She’d slept in a bed with Noah and he hadn’t made a move on her. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. She settled on disappointed—another surprise. But sex with Noah was bound to ruin everything, she reminded herself. Yesterday he’d proved himself to be a loyal and supportive friend. She couldn’t let her hormones screw that up.

She untangled herself, making him stir, then propped herself up on one elbow. “Good morning.”

“What time is it?” he muttered, keeping his eyes closed.

“I don’t know. I can’t see a clock.”

“Go back to sleep,” he grumbled. “Whatever time it is, it’s two hours earlier in Seattle. For me, it’s like the middle of the night.”

“It’s not the middle of the night. The sun’s out.”

Groaning, he rolled over and looked at the clock on the nightstand, then groaned again.

“So what time is it?”

“9:13.” He didn’t sound very happy about it.

“I’m hungry.”

He lay on his back, looking up into her face. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. “You’re worse than Tortoise.” Then his eyes widened. “Hey, where is Tortoise?”

“Did you seriously think I was irresponsible enough to leave my dog alone overnight?”

“Well, no.”

“Liar.”

He looked relieved when she laughed.

“He’s with my friend Steph. She treats him like a little prince.”

“I miss him.”

That surprised her . . . then it didn’t. She’d adopted Tortoise while Noah was in town—they’d gone to the dog shelter together—and he’d teased her to no end about the name she’d given him. But he’d grown attached to the animal too, and often asked about him, as infrequent as his calls had become these past weeks.

“Hey,” she said, giving his arm a shove. “Why haven’t you called me very much over the last month?”

“That’s a two-way street, Libby.”

It was true. She’d pulled away from him after telling him about her engagement. She realized now it was because his disapproval had smarted. Even though she hadn’t intended to go through with the wedding, she’d known all along he was right about marrying Mitch.

“None of that,” he said, pulling her close again. “Yesterday happened in a vacuum.”

It hadn’t, not really. But it was nice to pretend it was true. “Maybe so, but today has its own very real problems.”

He frowned. “What problems could you possibly have on your special day?”

“Remember? The only thing I have to wear is a wedding dress.”

“Hmm . . . I see your point. Should I go out and pick up an outfit for you?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked in mock horror. “I don’t care to spend my special day dressed like a hooker.”

He leaned to the side to catch her gaze. “I’m slightly insulted by that.”

“Only slightly?”

“Well, I admit, it’s a legitimate concern.”

She lifted her eyebrows in mock surprise.

“I have a pair of sweatpants in my bag. You could wear those.”

“So I’m going to pair your sweatpants and T-shirt with my white beaded shoes?”

“Only so we can go out and find you something more suitable to wear. Unless you want to go in the buff. Or in your dress.”

“Sweatpants it is.”

“Thought so.”

She hopped out of bed and grabbed her bra from underneath the wedding dress on the chair, then slipped into the bathroom and closed the door. She was in the process of putting her bra on under Noah’s T-shirt when she saw his toothbrush on the counter.

Oh, God. She’d been talking to him with morning breath. She could get a toothbrush while they were out shopping, but she didn’t want to go that long. Looking over her shoulder, she turned on the water and grabbed his toothbrush, quickly putting toothpaste on the bristles. She’d been brushing for half a minute when Noah knocked on the door and pushed it open a crack. “Are you decent?”

“Uh-huh,” she said with the toothbrush in her mouth.

He opened the door the rest of the way and stared at her in the reflection in the mirror for a moment, his forehead wrinkling. “Here’s the pants.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, still brushing.

His mouth dropped open. “Is that my toothbrush?”

She pulled it out and spat in the sink. “Yeah.”

“Oh, my God!” he said in horror. “That’s disgusting.”

“Come on,” she said, cupping water into her hand and slurping it into her mouth. “You’re telling me that you’ve never shared a toothbrush with someone before?”

“Absolutely not. Now that thing is covered in your germs.”

She rinsed off his toothbrush under the running water. “It’s no different than kissing.”

“But at least I get something out of kissing. What am I getting out of this?”

She turned around to face him, lifting her eyebrows in a playful manner. “My charming personality without halitosis?”

Something happened in his eyes then, the annoyance shifting to something she didn’t recognize, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. “Just remember paybacks are a bitch.”

A grin spread across her face as she stalked closer to him and rested her palms against his chest. “Am I supposed to be scared, Noah McMillan?”

His eyes narrowed. “You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

His tone was teasing, but the combination of their proximity, their playful banter, and the suggestive words he’d just uttered sent an unexpected wave of heat coursing through Libby.

That was the thing. She wanted to find out what he was capable of . . . .

Her hands were still on his chest, but her fingertips were on fire now. She inhaled sharply, trying to make sense of the war being waged in her head. Her body demanded she grab the back of his head, pull his mouth to hers, and drag him to the very available bed less than ten feet away, so they could have what she was sure would be the most amazing sex of her life. But her head commanded her body to stop. She had too much to lose with a spontaneous fling. It wasn’t worth the risk. Even if she let herself think they might have the potential to have something long term, she had a hard time ignoring what was plainly written in her palm. She was destined for a man who was creative. She was certain an engineer who worked in an office didn’t qualify.

“Lib?” he asked, concern in his eyes. One minute she’d been playing around with him, the next she’d practically turned to a statue, her hand glued to his chest.

She forced a smile and stepped back. She would not make things awkward between them. She needed Noah. No matter what her heart wanted, her body wanted, she couldn’t afford to do anything that would risk pushing him away, especially now. She tugged on the sweatpants in his hand. “Thanks.” Confusion wrinkled his brow as she pushed him out of the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

When she emerged several minutes later, he was looking at his laptop again. He glanced up at her with a sly grin before closing the lid.

He wanted her to try to wrest his secret plans from him, so she gave him a haughty smile instead. “I’m starving.”

“Good thing for you they have a continental breakfast here,” he teased, packing his computer into his messenger bag. “We can take our things downstairs and leave after we eat.”

She noticed his bag on the bed, the lid open. He brushed past her, and into the bathroom, as she turned her attention to the wedding dress he’d arranged on the bed next to it.

Noah came back out and packed up his toiletry bag. “What do you want to do with your dress? It won’t fit into my bag.”

“Leave it.”

He spun around to face her. “You’re the one who picked it out, not Mitch, right?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“Do you love it?”

“What?”

He released a sigh, looking embarrassed. “Megan’s mother picked out her wedding dress, but she had her heart set on another one. Josh bought it for her.”

“I know. I was there,” she teased.

He forged on. “Libby, do you love the dress?”

She tilted her head to the side and gave him an ornery grin. “If I say no, does that mean you’re going to buy me a new one?”

Groaning, he grabbed her shoulders, then enunciated his words slowly. “Do you love the dress?”

She did, but she couldn’t very well wear it again. What man would tolerate her wearing a dress she’d bought for her wedding to another man? She could hardly explain that her reasons for almost marrying Mitch weren’t exactly honorable.

Noah grabbed the room key and walked out the door without another word.

Had she pissed him off? She couldn’t figure out what she’d done other than borrow his toothbrush.

But she didn’t have long to contemplate it. The door opened a few seconds later, and Noah walked in with a clear trash bag. “Hold this open.” He shoved it toward her.

There was no denying him, so she did as he’d asked. He folded up the gown and crammed it into the bag. When he finished, she looked up at him with an inquisitive gaze and he shrugged. “We couldn’t leave it. If nothing else, you can sell it on eBay or make an art piece out of it.”

She sucked in a breath, then released it, thrown off by an unexpected rush of emotion. “Thanks.”

She slipped on her wedding shoes, then stood in front of the full-length mirror. Noah’s black T-shirt hung to her thighs and his gray sweatpants were rolled up to her ankles. The drawstring in the waist was pulled so tight it looked like she had a life preserver hidden under her shirt. The beaded, two-inch white heels topped off the ensemble. “I look like I’m about to join to the circus.”

Noah grinned. “You look better in that shirt than I ever did.”

She’d seen him in this shirt before, and she had to admit he filled it out quite nicely. It swam on her. “You liar. You’re loving every minute of this.”

“Okay, you look like a homeless person who stole a bride’s shoes. Happy? Let’s go eat.”

He insisted on carrying his bag and her dress down to the lobby. The obvious wedding dress crammed into a trash bag drew strange looks from other guests at the breakfast buffet, but they flat-out gawked at her. She was used to getting attention, but not like this.

A couple of younger women sat at a table together, snickering as they watched Libby pick up a tray from the counter and follow Noah in the food line.

“Is this some new fashion craze?” a woman behind her asked.

“Yes.” Noah leaned around Libby with a serious expression. “It’s taken over Lesser Mongolia and Kurdistan. It’s all the rage.”

“Kurdistan?” she asked in amazement. “I had no idea it was a high-fashion country.”

“Until a few months ago, they had no fashion at all. They used to go around naked. Do you know how cold it gets there?” Noah asked, heaping his plate with bacon. “Let me tell you, it’s not pretty. I had to draw the line when Libby tried that one.” He shook his head with mock disapproval. “You can only imagine how many times I had to bail her out of jail.”

The woman eyed Libby up and down.

“I can see what you’re thinking, what with her swimming in these clothes,” Noah said, moving to the next food station, “but I can assure you she has the figure for it. She used to walk around town and cause massive car pile-ups from all the men gawking at her. In fact,” he winked at her with a conspiratorial grin, “she wasn’t arrested for indecent exposure. She was arrested for breaking up so many marriages—those men got one look at her and they knew no woman could ever compare to such a goddess.”

The woman’s mouth dropped and she stared at Libby wide-eyed before she realized what she was doing and jerked her gaze back to Noah. “I had no idea someone could be arrested for that,” the woman said.

Noah nodded. “They had to make an emergency law. It’s called the Libby Law. In Hedonista, Iowa.” Noah shot Libby a wide grin and moved to the other side of the room to get some coffee.

The woman kept sneaking glances at Libby, but Libby ignored her, trying to keep a straight face as she walked over to join Noah.

“Walking naked in public?” Libby whispered.

Noah shrugged.

He started to say something to her when one of the seated young women snickered, then stage-whispered, “She’s so tacky. There’s no way she could break up a marriage.”

Noah’s back stiffened as he glanced over his shoulder, but Libby simply reached for a mug and poured herself some coffee.

“I have no idea what that fine looking man is doing with someone like her,” the woman continued.

The second woman giggled. “Must be charity work. Girls like her make guys feel sorry for them, which is why they never give us a chance.”

Noah’s eyes hardened, but Libby put her hand on his arm. “Ignore them. They’re not worth it.”

He stood still for several seconds, but then he set his coffee cup on the counter and handed Libby his plate. “Could you take this to the table for me? I’ll bring your coffee over.”

She tilted her head and narrowed her gaze. “Why? What are you going to do?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Trust me on this one, okay?”

“Okay . . .”

“I’ll join you in a minute.”

Libby took the two plates to their seats and watched as Noah wandered over to the table with the two women. He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to their table, angling it between them. “Good morning,” he said, pouring on the charm.

Their eyes widened and one of the women held back a giggle.

“How are you two lovely ladies this morning?”

“Good. We’re good,” they mumbled, their words slurring together.

If Libby hadn’t known better, she would have thought Noah had gone over there to flirt with them. And even though he’d clearly stood in line with her, they were falling for it hook, line, and sinker.

He placed his forearm on their small table and leaned forward. “I couldn’t help overhearing what you said about my lovely bride over there.” He tilted his head toward Libby and they at least had the grace to blush. “Now, I have to ask you two, do I look like a fool?”

One of them turned from pink to scarlet while the other shook her head and mouthed “no,” horror in her eyes.

Noah’s voice took on an air of condescension. “I can assure you that Libby has more class in her pinky finger than the two of you put together, and even if I had never been lucky enough to meet her, I wouldn’t have given either of you the time of day. I don’t care for mean, gossipy women.” He stood and grabbed the back of the chair. “Now that we’ve got that clear,” he added, his charm restored, “you ladies have a good day.”

The other hotel guests stared at Noah and several began to clap as he replaced the chair at a nearby table.

The two women hastily gathered their things and headed for the elevator.

Noah grabbed his coffee and Libby’s and headed back to their table.

She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Noah, you didn’t have to do that.”

He picked up his fork, concentrating on his food. “Of course I did. Those two imbeciles were trash-talking you. I had to set them straight.”

“You could have just let it go.”

He glanced up in surprise. “I’m your friend, Libby. I can’t stand by and let you get hurt. Why do you think I changed my mind about coming to Kansas City?”

His question caught her off guard. “I thought you came because you were supposed to be in my wedding.”

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes and he looked down at his food. “I thought you were hungry.”

“You’re hiding something from me.”

He hesitated for a long moment, then met her gaze and held it. “You wanted me at the wedding. I couldn’t let you down.”

Tears stung her eyes. “You’re the only person in this whole mess who hasn’t let me down.” She shook her head, once again reminded of her humiliation. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Lib.” His voice was soft and understanding. “You just got blinded by what you thought was love.”

Love? The wedding had never been about that. Her quest for love, sure, but she’d never loved poor Mitch. She was beginning to doubt she’d ever find true love. Maybe someone like her was incapable of it. People modeled what they grew up around, didn’t they? If so, she was doomed.

They ate in silence for a minute, but then Libby found herself thinking about Noah’s nudist story and snorted out loud.

“How’d you come up with the town name so quickly for your nudist story?” she asked. “That was clever.”

“Well, I am pretty smart.”

Something in his tone caught her attention. She knew he hated being treated like an idiot, especially by his brother. And she’d seen proof of his intelligence time and time again. He could add huge numbers in a flash and he was the only person she knew who could divide a five-digit number by a three-digit number in his head. While he didn’t like to talk about it, she got the impression he’d started at his dad’s company when he was really young. She’d always wanted to ask about it, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard herself blurt out, “When did you graduate from high school?”

He gave her an embarrassed shrug. “Right before my seventeenth birthday.”

She gasped. “You’re kidding. I always wondered how you got your degree so young. I guess it’s a good thing since your father died at the end of your senior year in college.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced at the memory, but he recovered quickly and shot her an ornery grin. “Ready for your big day?”

She cradled a cup of coffee in her cold hands. “Where are we going?” She tried—and failed—to keep the excitement out of her voice. She’d loved surprises since she was a little girl and her abuela would show up on her birthday to take her out for a day of surprises and fun. There’d been too little fun in her life when she was younger.

He pursed his lips, then said, “Walmart. You can get clothes and toiletries. I can get a phone charger. It’s only a few miles away.” She started to say something, but he spoke first, a smug look on his face. “They don’t have a Target. Yes, I checked.”

He knew she hated the superstore. “And where are we going after that?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”

“Can you give me a hint?”

He laughed. “Let’s just say I would never go there if you weren’t with me.”

She wondered what could be so repulsive to him and her eyes flew open in horror as an alarming possibility occurred to her. “Oh, God. Please tell me it’s not the Precious Moments chapel in Carthage, Missouri. All those little angels with baby faces give me the creeps.”

He burst out laughing. “That would serve you right for using my toothbrush.”

“Maybe I’ll just hitchhike home.”

“Not a chance. Now that Megan and Blair know you’re under my care, they’ll never forgive me if I don’t deliver you home safely myself.”

The thought of her friends sobered her for a moment, but she would sort things out with them later. Today she was going to have fun.

“Here.” He handed her his jacket before they stepped outside. “We’ll try to find you a coat at Walmart.” Then he snickered and led the way out to his car.

She would have preferred a thrift store, but on a Sunday morning in a small Kansas town, it wasn’t likely they’d find one. So she let him drive to the superstore, which was only a couple of miles away. The selection of clothing was just as abysmal as she’d expected. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a couple of shirts, along with some panties, night clothes, and a pair of canvas tennis shoes. Noah laughed when she opted for a bulky sweater instead of a coat. He headed off to find a phone charger cord while she picked up some toiletries. A few minutes later, he found her in the deodorant aisle, holding a new toothbrush in his hand.

She laughed. “Is that for you or me?”

He shuddered. “Me.”

“You big baby.”

They checked out and she felt guilty when she saw the total, knowing most of it was for her. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Consider it payment for all the meals you’ve provided me,” he said, keeping his gaze on his wallet.

They’d eaten plenty of meals together, sure, but they’d always split the cost of restaurants and pizza delivery. She didn’t say anything, figuring she’d pay him back when she got home.

She took the bag of clothes to the restroom at the front of the store and changed. When she came out, Noah was holding the charger cord in one hand and the empty case in the other. He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t use my toothbrush, did you?”

“Jeez, if you were so concerned, you should have taken it out of the bag and kept it with you.” She grinned. “But now that you mention it, I need to go back—”

She made a play of turning around and heading to the restroom, but he grabbed her arm. “Not a chance. Let’s go.”

He grabbed his toothbrush out of the bag as he ushered her out the doors.

“What’s the deal with the toothbrush phobia?” she asked. “There has to be a story there.”

His eyebrows rose. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I’ll tell it to you.”

She turned around and walked backward. “Are you suggesting I’m not?”

“Asks the woman wearing a shirt that says, ‘I should come with a warning label.’”

She laughed, feeling happier and . . . lighter than she had in weeks. “I figure it’s true.”

A cocky grin spread across his face. “Good call.”

He plugged in his phone as soon as they got into the car, and after they gassed up, he headed west on I-70.

“Thank God,” she said in a gush. Carthage was in the opposite direction. “No demonic cherubs.”

“Lucky for you, Libby St. Clair Day doesn’t involve torture.”

They were quiet for a few moments. Then she asked, “Shouldn’t you check in with Donna?” Just saying the woman’s name filled her with irrational anger.

He grimaced. “I suspect I’d get cussed out if I called Donna.”

“Ah . . .” She cringed, trying not to feel guilty about how much his answer gratified her. “That bad, huh?”

“Let’s just say I don’t have to worry about her using my toothbrush.”

“What happened? You find someone else to replace her with?”

A grin tugged at his lips, but it looked off. “Something like that.”

She wondered if she should offer him sympathy. Donna was a rare exception to his parade of women—she’d lasted nearly a month. Did that mean she had meant something to him? The thought sent an unexpected wave of jealousy through her, but she reminded herself that she and Noah worked better as friends. She had no right to feel jealous, yet that ugly emotion simmered inside her nevertheless. Today was about fun, not this guilt and jealousy, so she decided to change the subject. “What about Josh? Shouldn’t you call him?”

“I’m not his favorite person at the moment either.”

“Pissing people off right and left, aren’t you?”

“It’s what I do best.” Only there wasn’t any humor in his tone now.

That got her attention. “Want to talk about it?”

He turned to look at her. “Want to talk about why you asked Mitch to marry you and then let him plan your entire wedding?” He could have sounded condemning, but it was more conspiratorial. Yes, they both had baggage they’d rather not bring on this trip.

“Touché.” She kicked off her new shoes and sat cross-legged. “Any other taboo subjects?”

“I refuse to discuss fracking, Obamacare, and the Dalai Lama,” he said without missing a beat, then turned to look at her. “In that order.”

She laughed. God, it felt good to be with him, on the road to some new adventure. “Fair enough. That leaves global warming, campaign fund fraud, and the Mormons.”

He grinned and a happy glow filled his eyes. She knew in that moment that he needed this just as much as she did. But why? She knew he’d been working a lot lately—something he wasn’t used to doing. Maybe he was relieved to have the time off. Or maybe he was more upset over Donna than he was letting on.

“Where are we going?” she asked, unable to stop herself from asking again.

His grin told her that was exactly what he wanted. “It’s a surprise.”

“Are we going to Colorado?”

He shook his head. “If I tell you yes, will you leave me alone?”

“No. I wouldn’t believe you now.”

“Good call.”

They fell into a comfortable silence before he asked, “What’s going on with your photography project?”

“The one with shadows? I stopped working on it.” She’d used him as a model in some of the photos, putting him in various poses with his face in the shadows. The idea was to capture the interplay of light and darkness with the angles of his face. He had the face of a god, with his well-defined nose and strong jaw, and the way the light loved his features made the project exciting. Since he hadn’t been back in town for a while, she’d tried to use Mitch, but his features weren’t as pronounced, so the images hadn’t turned out as well as Noah’s.

She’d given it up.

“So what are you working on?”

“Nothing.”

He frowned. “Libby. The exhibit’s in two months. This is your dream! To be on display in a New York art gallery.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But nothing seems right anymore.” The invitation to display her photographs in the gallery had been a dream come true, and the project had progressed much better than she’d expected until her somewhat-fallout with Noah. After that . . . well, she’d lost touch with the heart of it.

“But it was going so well.”

She shrugged. “I’ll come up with something else.” But she was worried she wouldn’t.

“Lib.” He seemed to think over his words for a moment. “I know you and I are the type of people who tend to feel suffocated by deadlines, but stick with it. You know it could be your big break.”

Big break in photography was a relative term. The wedding and family photography paid the bills, but the artistic projects fed her soul. His reminder only made her more anxious.

“Change of subject?” he asked.

She nodded, wondering why she was surprised he could read her. He seemed to understand her better than anyone else ever had. Maybe it was because they were so alike—just another reminder that they were totally unsuitable for each other. How could two completely irresponsible people, who consciously avoided the hard topics, make a relationship work? The thought only made her sadder.

“Does Tortoise still sleep with that stuffed rabbit?”

“Yes,” she chuckled. “I couldn’t find it last week and he moped around for two days until I pulled it out from under the sofa.” She paused. “He misses you. We haven’t been to the dog park since you were last around.”

“Really? Are you taking him for walks in your neighborhood?” He glanced over at her, looking worried. “Your neighborhood’s sketchy, Lib. It’s not safe.”

“Tortoise will protect me. In fact, he did a few weeks ago.”

“What?” He sat up straighter. “What happened?”

“It was nothing bad. We were outside around midnight and some drunk homeless guy wandered up. Tortoise freaked out and scared him away.” She was playing it off now, but the guy had wigged her out at the time. He’d started calling her names as he zigzagged toward her. Tortoise had released a low growl and bared his teeth, sending the tottering man off.

“Why are you going outside at midnight?” He sounded angry.

“Calm down, Noah. I had to take Tortoise outside to pee.”

A scowl covered his face. “You need to move.”

“My lease isn’t up for another six months.”

“Move anyway.”

She sighed. “You know I can’t afford it.” She paused. “And I’m not doing the roommate thing again.” Her last one had stolen her credit card. Libby was still cleaning up that mess.

“Then come to Seattle and move in with me.”

She gasped. “What?” Was Noah interested in something more with her? Not just sex, but something serious. Moving in was so many levels above a hookup.

He looked surprised by his own statement, but he must have decided to go for it because he shrugged and said, “Why not? Seattle has a better artistic atmosphere than Kansas City.”

Her mind whirled with excitement and her heart beat furiously, catching her by surprise. Did she want more with him? “But my business . . . my clients . . .”

“You’ll find new ones.”

She sat there speechless for a few moments, her barely used practical side vying for attention. Knowing Noah, if he were interested in a romantic entanglement with her, he would already have put on the moves. Last night they’d shared a bed and he’d acted like a eunuch. Still, something unfamiliar glowed in her chest—a spark of hope—and she decided to dig deeper.

“Noah, how’s this gonna work? Am I supposed to hide in my room when you bring a girl home? Not to mention the fact that you have a one-bedroom apartment.”

He scowled. “I don’t like the idea of you being in that condo alone, Libby. Especially since Mitch isn’t around now.”

So he hadn’t contradicted her. She gave herself half a second to get over it before moving on to her next shocker. While she knew he cared about her, he’d never been this protective before. What was going on with him?

“If it’s money, I can help,” he said. “I don’t have much, but I can help you get out of your lease so you can move.”

“Noah, I can’t let you do that.”

“At least think about it, okay?” he asked quietly.

“Okay,” she agreed, if no other reason than because he sounded so worried.

They rode in silence for several minutes before she asked, “Where are we going?”

A big grin spread across his face. “Crazy.”

Chapter Nine

The hour and a half drive to Wilson, Kansas, was awkward for the first thirty minutes and it was entirely his own fault. He had no idea why he’d burst out with his suggestion that she move to Seattle, but there was no reeling it back in now. Even more alarming, he’d meant every word. He wanted her to move to Seattle with him. He wanted to try a real relationship.

What the hell did he do with that?

Libby was right, of course. There was no way she could move into his one-bedroom apartment with him as a friend. Would she be willing to try it if he moved to a bigger place? Maybe living together would help convince her they had what it took for a long-term relationship. He just needed to show her how compatible they were. Besides, now wasn’t the time for her to think about a new relationship. She was still devastated over her non-wedding to Mitch. She might not have gone through with it, but she was the one who’d proposed in the first place. Her heart had to be hurting. But if he was patient, if he showed her that he didn’t want to date other women, surely she’d be willing to give them a try.

What was he thinking? He’d quit his job less than forty-eight hours ago. He might be inexperienced with relationships, but he did know he needed to be gainfully employed to prove to her that he was a grown-up. Why had he gone off and quit?

Part of it was that he felt he could never be taken seriously at the firm after all the goofing off he’d done over the years. Up until a few months ago, the job had never been more than an obligation to him, and his own father had made it clear to him how poorly he would fulfill the family legacy. But the crazy thing was, he’d recently learned he liked responsibility and took pride in a job well done. The problem was that he needed to convince other people of that . . . and now he’d left the company on a whim and he had no idea what to do with his life.

He wallowed in his thoughts until the atmosphere in the car mellowed, and soon he and Libby were chatting easily, as if nothing had happened. As if he’d never mentioned Seattle.

Libby was looking down at the radio, trying to find a station in the middle of nowhere, when Noah spotted a billboard advertising the place he was taking her.

“Could you check my phone?” he asked. It had been charging for over an hour, and while he’d felt it vibrate on the seat next to him, he hadn’t bothered to check it. He was sure it was full of texts and voice mails from his brother, admonishing him for his irresponsible behavior. And while he didn’t exactly care to deal with that right now, if Libby was busy reading over the list, she wouldn’t look up and see the sign.

“Okay.” She left the radio on a Latino station and checked the phone. “A text from Donna, three from Josh, two from Megan and one from Blair. Ten missed calls. Five voice messages. Oh, and a Facebook notification that Tiffany Brown has accepted your friend request.” She glanced up at him. “I didn’t think you used Facebook.” She sounded irritated.

“I don’t.”

“Yet you friend requested her.” Her mouth pursed. “You haven’t even friend requested me.”

“Because I’m never on there, Lib. You know that. It’s a work thing.”

“On Facebook?” She sounded skeptical.

“It doesn’t matter now anyway. I don’t need it anymore,” he said, not wanting to share the whole sorry story of how he’d lost the account and promptly quit. “This is our exit.” He turned off, thankful he had an excuse to dodge the conversation.

She looked around. “Where are we?”

“Wilson, Kansas.”

“Why are we here?”

“It’s your first surprise.” He was suddenly nervous. This had seemed like such a good idea last night. Now it seemed incredibly stupid and lame. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

She covered her eyes with her hands.

He glanced over at her. “No peeking.”

She grinned. “You’re not planning to slow down and dump me on the side of the road, are you? I’ll pretend I prefer Iron Man to Thor if it means that much to you.”

He laughed. “I already told you, I can’t go back to Kansas City without you. It would be a death sentence.”

“What you fail to mention is that you don’t have to go back to Kansas City at all.”

Her words sobered him. She was right. His only excuse for his frequent trips to K.C. was the work he’d been doing on the merger of his and Josh’s firm with Megan’s father’s firm. If he didn’t work there anymore, he would have no reason to come. No reason to see her.

Libby continued grinning, unaware of his emotional turmoil, and he planned to keep it that way. “I promise you won’t come to any harm on this stop. No guarantee for the next one.” He found what he was looking for and flipped on his turn signal. “We’re almost there. No peeking.”

“Hurry!” she said, squirming in her seat.

He parked the car and turned off the engine, his stomach twisting with anxiety as he looked at the object he’d just driven nearly one hundred miles to show her. It was ridiculous. She was going to think he was crazy. “Okay, open your eyes.”

She dropped her hands, and a moment later, her mouth dropped open too. Then she climbed out of the car.

He followed her, watching her closely as she tucked her hands under her armpits to keep warm. She stared at the giant black object that towered over them. “What is that?”

He swallowed. “It’s the World’s Largest Czechoslovakian Egg.”

“The what?”

Oh, God. She hated it.

“It’s a twenty-foot-tall and fifteen-foot-wide fiberglass egg,” he explained. “The town has a large Czechoslovakian community, but it was dying off. So they built the egg to bring in tourists. A guy somewhere in Kansas made it for cost and the whole town came together to paint it.” He pointed to the black egg with the white and yellow pattern adorning its sides. “They decorated it by hand.”

She stood in silence. Horror stole his breath when he realized there were tears in her eyes. “You hate it.”

She shook her head as the first tear slid down her cheek. Then she turned to him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.

“Talk to me, Libby. Why are you crying?” He’d wanted to make her happy, but apparently this was just one more thing he’d failed at.

“I love it,” she mumbled, still clinging to him.

“You’re crying because you love it?”

She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “This is the most perfect gift anyone has ever given me.” Her arms still firmly wrapped around his neck, she said, “How did you find this place? What made you even think to look for it?”

An older couple walked toward them from the parking lot. They gave Noah and Libby a confused look.

“She’s so overcome by the symbolism of this piece,” he said over the top of her head in mock seriousness. “It’s moved her to tears.”

The elderly man’s eyes narrowed as he looked up at the giant egg, then back at Libby.

Noah shrugged with a who can explain it expression.

Libby broke free and wiped her eyes.

“I told you. It’s Libby Day,” he said. “So I looked for things that I thought would make you happy.”

“Like a giant black egg?”

“Not a giant black egg. The world’s largest Czechoslovakian egg.”

A grin lit up her face and something warm and comforting spread through his chest. He had made her happy after all, and the complete satisfaction that gave him took him by surprise.

“So you like it?” he asked.

“I absolutely love it. It’s perfect.” She wiped her cheeks and sucked in a breath. “I want a photo.”

“Then a photo you shall have.” He walked back to the car and grabbed his phone. “You stand over there,” he said, pointing to the sign in front of the egg.

She moved closer to it, but before he could snap the photo, the elderly woman gestured for him to stop.

“You go on over there with your wife,” she said, walking over to him. “I’ll take a picture of you two together.”

Wife? He started to correct her, but then he glanced over at Libby and the word soaked in.

Wife.

Last night and this morning he’d pretended be her groom, but today there was no wedding dress to give them away.

“Oh,” Libby spoke up. “I’m not—”

“Don’t be silly, Lib,” he said, handing the elderly woman his phone. “Let’s get a photo together.”

Libby gave him a strange glance, but he just wrapped an arm around her back, his hand resting on her hip. They fit together perfectly, and Noah didn’t want to let go of her after the woman finished snapping several photos of them.

“You two are so cute,” the woman gushed, her face beaming as she handed the phone back to Noah. “How long have you been married?”

“We’re not—” Libby started to say.

“We just got married,” Noah interrupted. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

She clapped her hands in excitement. “Howard!”

“What?” the elderly man asked, sounding annoyed as he walked around the giant egg and stared up at its apex.

“These cute young things are newlyweds!”

Libby gave Noah a confused look, but he just grinned.

“Mealy heads?” Howard asked. “What the hell are mealy heads? Is that some kind of cult?”

“Newlyweds,” his wife shouted in disgust. “Turn on your hearing aid!”

He fiddled with his ear. “What?”

“They’re newlyweds. They just got married!”

“Married? Well, why didn’t you say so?”

“I just did!” she groaned, then smiled at Noah and Libby. “You two look very happy.”

Noah smiled and glanced at Libby, who still had that same strange expression on her face.

“Are you on your way to your honeymoon?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” Noah answered before Libby could respond. “I had to bring my Libby to see the giant egg. She’s a huge fan of omelets.”

The woman’s brow lowered in consternation.

Libby started to giggle.

The woman shook her head and wandered off toward her husband as Noah glanced down at Libby, aware that he was still holding her close. “Do you want to walk around the egg?”

A mischievous look filled her eyes. “Why not?”

He could have pulled away, but decided to see how she’d react if he continued to keep his arm around her as they began to walk. She snuggled closer.

“It’s cold.”

He rubbed her upper arm with his hand. “You should have gotten a coat instead of this sweater.”

She shrugged and walked around the back of the egg, happiness lighting up her eyes. “So they made this as a draw for tourists.”

“According to what I read on the Internet.”

“Is it working?”

He laughed. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

They walked around to the opposite end. “I like omelets, was that the best you could come up with?” She laughed.

“Well, you do.”

“So what’s next on the agenda?” she asked, her eyes dancing.

He stared down at her in wonder. How could he have spent the better part of five months with this woman without realizing how perfect she was for him? But he hadn’t been ready back then. He’d still had some growing up to do. God knew, he still did.

“Well?” she asked, shivering.

“You look like Rudolph,” he said, tapping the end of her red nose and wrapping his coat around as much of her as he could. “You really should have gotten a coat.”

“I thought keeping me warm was part of your job description. Isn’t that why you have your arm around me?” she asked. “So you don’t deliver me home with a raging case of pneumonia?”

He forced his smile to remain in place. “Yeah. That’s exactly it.”

They walked back around to the front of the egg. “It’s really kind of incredible, don’t you think?” she asked. “That an entire town came together to create something so impressive.”

“If you think a giant black egg is impressive . . .”

She turned, her chest pressed against his as she looked up at him. “Of course it is. It’s the world’s largest egg.”

“World’s largest Czechoslovakian egg.”

“But that’s not what makes it impressive. People cared enough about their town to try to save it. Someone dreamed it up and designed it. A man donated his time to make it. Then the town came together and painted it.” She pivoted and stared up at it, thoughtfulness in her eyes. “Have you ever cared about anything enough to devote yourself to it like that?”

Yes, and it killed him that he was just now seeing it. Especially when he wasn’t sure she could take him seriously. “Have you?” he asked, deciding it was safer not to answer.

She sucked in her bottom lip, sadness flickering across her face. “No. I don’t think so. But I’d like to.”

“You’ll find it,” he said. “Maybe it’s right under your nose.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “Maybe.”

Some of her happiness faded, and he couldn’t have that. “Are you hungry?” he asked, sounding excited. “I hear they have great Czechoslovakian food here.”

She laughed. “I had no idea you liked Czechoslovakian food.”

“Never had it. But today’s all about adventures. We need to hurry and eat, though. Demonic cherubs await you in Carthage, Missouri.”

She cocked her head and laughed. “I’m feeling pretty safe considering we’re headed in the opposite direction.”

“Maybe I was just trying to throw you off. You better be careful not to fall asleep in the car; we might just be there when you wake up.”

“I’m warning you, if you take me there, and a demonic angel jumps out at us, I’m pushing you in front of me,” she teased, then turned more serious. “No heading back east. At least not today, okay? I don’t think I can handle going back yet.”

He pulled her into a hug. “No heading east.” He gave her a squeeze, then chuckled, saying in a commanding voice, “Go west, young woman. Into the unknown frontier.”

She stepped away from him and headed toward the car. “Let’s go get some Czech food.”

Their lunch was leisurely and their food delicious. While he’d always loved being with her, something felt different today . . . in a good way. Was it this realization that he wanted more with her? Was it that they were on an adventure? Or was it that the universe had finally shifted and made Noah care about someone other than himself?

As he watched her over lunch, he realized it was true. For the first time in his life, it was more important to him that someone else was having a good time than that he was enjoying himself. And, weirdly, he was having a better time because of it.

They headed back into the car after lunch and Libby fell asleep halfway to Garden City, which gave Noah time to check his messages on his phone. Donna had told him to go to hell and rot there, adding plenty of other colorful language. Megan and Blair’s texts were frantic messages that had been sent before Libby spoke to Megan. He paused before moving on to the texts from Josh. He could only imagine the things his brother had accused him off. Sure enough, the first text had been sent while Noah was on the plane the day before. It accused Noah of being irresponsible and self-centered, citing Noah’s loss of the account and his subsequent resignation as the perfect examples, then went on to add that if there was anyone he needed to consider in all of this, it was Libby. The next text had come later that night, after Libby had told off Megan, and it denounced Noah’s decision not to let anyone know he’d taken her from the parking lot. The third said Josh was giving Noah until Tuesday to change his mind about quitting or he’d tell their mother when she came home from her cruise.

Damn, how had he forgotten about his mother?

Last was the friend request from Tiffany Brown. Not only had she accepted his request, but she’d sent a message.

Hey, stranger. I never expected to hear from you again after our crazy night at the Super Bowl Party last year . . . but that doesn’t mean I’m unhappy I did. Call me.

Then she’d listed her phone number.

Oh shit.

“Where are we?” Libby’s drowsy voice interrupted.

He locked his phone and set it down beside him. “We’re almost to Garden City.”

“Garden City? Where’s that?”

“Close to Colorado.”

“Colorado?”

He grinned as she spent the next ten minutes trying to guess what they were going to see.

“A Hungarian waffle?”

“No.”

“A Greek taquito?”

He laughed. “No.”

She was amused when he parked in front of a newer-looking red brick building. “The Finney County Historical Museum? Are you trying to bore me to death? Is this your payback for using your toothbrush?”

“Guess you’ll find out.” He was more nervous this time, not only because what he was about to show her was disgusting, at least in his eyes, but he suspected Libby would appreciate its eccentricity. He got out of the car and stuffed his phone into his jeans pocket while he waited for her.

“I’m not about to get a history lesson, am I?” she asked, sounding skeptical.

He laughed, motioning for her to follow. “You’ll find out when we get inside.”

She tagged along until she was beside him, her arms tightly wrapped over her chest.

“We need to stop and find you a real coat,” Noah said, watching her shiver. “There’s a Target in this town.”

“You just need to take me somewhere warmer.” Then she hurried to the front door and went inside.

After he paid their small admission fee, they walked into the museum together.

Of course, she immediately made her way over to a genuine human skeleton nestled in a coffin and covered in Plexiglas.

“Oh, my God,” she gushed, leaning closer to it. “Is this why you brought me here?”

Noah laughed. “Strangely enough, no.”

She read the sign next to the display and cringed. “They used to carry this through the town in parades?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “So it claims.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“You love every minute of it.”

She grinned up at him. “I do.”

“Then you’ll love why I really brought you here.” The museum was small, but it took him a moment to find the purpose of their visit, a brown ball nearly the size of a basketball that sat on a table. He swept his arm in an arc, pointing to the sphere. “This is it.”

Her eyes widened as she read the sign. “The world’s largest hairball?” She looked up at him. “Is this a Guinness World Records tour?”

He grinned and lifted his shoulder into a half-shrug. She read parts of the sign out loud. It been removed from a cow’s stomach, and had originally weighed over fifty pounds instead of its current twenty pounds.

“I’d like to remind you,” he teased, pointing to the bottom line of the sign, “that you are not to play with the giant hairball.”

“Ewww. Disgusting.”

She cringed and giggled at the same time and Noah felt a fizzy happiness float through him. He’d been with literally countless women, but while those easy dalliances had been fun, they’d left him feeling empty and unfulfilled, ready to look for the next bright young thing. He’d only ever felt this . . . contentment with her.

“How did you find this place?”

Her question pulled him back into the moment. He unfolded his arms and let them hang at his sides. “The Internet. You can find anything there.”

They parted ways and wandered around the museum. Noah was checking out an exhibit about some old cowboy at one side of the museum, while Libby was squatting in front of the skeleton again. A young woman approached Libby with an apologetic grimace. “I’m so sorry. My associate should have told you that we’re closing soon. You and your husband will need to leave in ten minutes when we close.”

Libby stood. “That’s okay. We’re almost done.”

The woman leaned closer and winked. “Your husband is really hot,” she said in an undertone he could just barely hear.

Libby’s face reddened. “Oh, he’s not my husband. He’s just a friend.”

The museum employee looked stricken. “Is he gay?”

Libby laughed. “No. Definitely not. But Noah . . . he’s not husband material . . . if you know what I mean.”

The woman nodded. “Too many of them aren’t nowadays.”

Libby flashed him a smile before returning her attention to the skeleton, but Noah was too caught up in her words to even pretend to pay attention to anything else.

Not husband material.

Somehow it was worse that she hadn’t hesitated to say it in front of him. Well, it was sort of true, wasn’t it? Up until recently, that’s exactly how he’d wanted it. Unencumbered. Unattached.

Unloved.

How come he’d never realized he was lonely? Libby was like a warm ray of sunlight, and he wanted nothing more than to bask in it. He wanted more than one-night stand after one-night stand, but he didn’t want just anyone. He wanted Libby. He just had to prove to her that he was suitable, that he was the type of man who could be her partner.

But first he had to get his job back. Even if it meant crawling back to his brother with a peace offering.

The Abrahams account.

He pulled out his phone and responded to Tiffany’s Facebook message.

I hear your boss is on a work trip this week. Any hint where he might be?

She responded within seconds.

Las Vegas. At that stupid machine convention. I’m going with him. We arrive Monday afternoon.

Noah knew exactly where they were going next.

Vegas.

Chapter Ten

“Las Vegas?” she grumbled in disgust. “Why are we going to Vegas?”

He shrugged as they pulled onto the highway. “It sounds like fun.”

“You told me you hate Vegas as much as I do.”

He grimaced. “I thought we could see Hoover Dam. Remember we watched When Fools Rush In, that stupid movie with the guy from Friends? You said you wanted to see the dam after that.”

“True . . .” But that wasn’t why he really wanted to go to Vegas. She had no idea how he’d managed to snow so many women. She found him so transparent. He was up to something else, she just didn’t know what yet.

“It’ll be fun.”

“If you say so.” But she had to admit that anything with Noah was fun. If he wanted to go to Las Vegas, she was willing to give it a shot.

They stopped for the night in Liberal, Kansas, only an hour away. She suggested they continue driving, but Noah said he needed to plan out the next day’s adventures.

“I thought it was Vegas,” she said over dinner at a barbeque restaurant.

“That’s the final destination,” he said, typing into his phone. “We can still have an adventure on the way.”

He’d spent more time on his phone in the last fifteen minutes than she’d seen him do in the five months she’d known him. That was one of his appealing traits. She’d gone through a ton of men who seemed more attached to their phones than they were to her. Noah was always totally engaged with her. Except tonight. Then the obvious reason hit her square in the face. He didn’t want to be there.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said without accusation. “You can take me home. Or even put me on a bus.”

His face jerked up, his eyes wide with alarm. “Why would you say that?”

“Noah,” she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Where would you be right now if you weren’t here with me in Liberal, Kansas?”

He placed his phone on the table and sat back in his chair. “If you had gotten married, probably in a hotel room in Kansas City.”

“You weren’t planning to take a flight back to Seattle today?”

“No.” He frowned. “Josh and I were supposed to have a meeting tomorrow.”

Guilt washed through her. “We need to go back. You have to go to that meeting.”

He shook his head, his eyes hardening. “No we don’t. Josh can handle the meeting and I was owed some vacation time.”

“Just last month you told me that you’d used up all your vacation time.”

He groaned, then leaned closer. “Libby. This is where I want to be. With you.”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

He laughed. “Sorry for you? Why would I feel sorry for you? Well, other than the fact you’re wearing clothes from Walmart.”

The way he was blowing off her concerns irritated her. “Noah, I’m serious.”

“Libby. So am I.” He sighed, then put his hand over hers. “Are you having fun?”

“Well, yeah. But that’s not the point.”

He smiled, that dazzling megawatt smile that usually won him any woman he wanted. She’d been immune to it. Until now. Her insides warmed and her breath caught in her chest as she stared into his deep brown eyes.

“The point is,” he continued, apparently unaware of the impact he had on her, “this is where I want to be. With you. There’s no self-sacrifice involved. You should know me well enough by now to know that I’m incapable of that particular trait.” He gave her a wry grin, and she decided to let it drop even though she didn’t agree with his assessment of himself. But she also knew him well enough to know when it was pointless to argue with him.

She flashed him a smile. “Okay. You’ve sold me. You want to be here. I want to be here. We both want to be here. What are we doing tomorrow?”

He pushed out a breath, looking more relaxed. “It’s a surprise, of course.”

“Why? Today was my day. Tomorrow can be yours.”

He shook his head. “No can do. You don’t have a license, so you can’t drive.”

Well, shit. He was right. “Where are we staying in Vegas and when will we get there?”

“Caesar’s Palace. I made reservations for Tuesday night.”

She reached her hand across the table. “Let me borrow your phone.”

“Why?”

“I need to call Blair.”

He hesitated. “Why?”

“Since when did you start giving me the third degree? I’m going to see if she’ll send some things to me at the hotel.”

“Okay.” He tapped on his screen before handing it over. “Do you need some privacy?”

“No,” she released a mock laugh. “That went so well with Megan last time. I need a witness in case Blair figures out a way to reach through the phone line and strangle me.”

“You don’t have to call her, Lib. I can get you anything you need.”

“Like a driver’s license?” He shrugged. “Yeah, exactly.”

She tapped in Blair’s number, her back tense as she waited.

“McMillan,” Blair answered. “If you do anything to my best friend, your balls are mine.”

Libby couldn’t help but grin. “What’s Garrett going to say about you taking another man’s balls?”

“Libby,” her friend said, her voice thick with relief. “Garrett won’t say a thing. I have a whole trophy case full of men’s testicles.”

Libby had no doubt about that. Blair Myers Hansen had made a name for herself as a hardass divorce attorney, which was paving the way for the new practice she’d opened with Garrett.

“Where are you, Libs?”

“Ah . . .” She glanced out the window. “Billy Blue Duck BBQ.”

“Maybe not so specific.”

“Liberal, Kansas.”

“When are you coming home?”

She glanced at Noah, but he was staring out the window. “I’m not sure yet. Probably not until later in the week.”

“You’re spending a week in Liberal, Kansas?”

Libby chuckled. “No. We’re on our way to Vegas.”

“Vegas? You hate Vegas.”

“Yeah . . . well . . .” She swallowed. “Noah’s taking me on an adventure. He’s planning it all and I’m letting him.”

“So you’re okay?” Blair asked in a quiet voice that caught Libby by surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “I am.”

“You know we’re here for you, no matter what, right? Megan feels terrible about what she said.”

“It’s okay,” she said, almost meaning it. Megan had hurt her deeply, but she couldn’t exactly blame her for the things she’d said.

“Talk to us next time, okay?” Blair sounded insistent. “No judgment, no matter how much Megan spouted off.” Not giving her a chance to respond, much less protest, Blair continued. “You did it because of the curse, didn’t you?” She paused. “Your birthday.”

Libby shot a glance at Noah, who was thankfully still looking out the window. She suddenly wished she’d asked for privacy. “Yeah.” She saw no reason to deny it.

“I know you believe in it, but it doesn’t mean anything, Libs. You can still meet an amazing guy and fall in love. You were never in love with Mitch.” She hesitated. “I was too caught up in Garrett and setting up the new practice to see what was right in front of my face. I let you down. I’m sorry.”

Libby gasped at Blair’s confession. Her friend really had softened. “You don’t need to be sorry. It’s done. Now I’m spending the week with Noah.”

He flashed her a grin, then motioned toward the restroom with his thumb.

Libby nodded.

“Be careful with him.”

Libby shuddered, suddenly grateful Noah had just left the table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We both know what he’s like, and you’re vulnerable right now. You were seeing Mitch when you met him, but now you’re available. And sometimes you don’t make good choices after a breakup.”

Libby would have gotten angry if Blair had said it in a haughty tone, but her friend sounded genuinely scared. And Libby had to admit it was true. She was notorious for making stupid decisions after a breakup.

“I know you like Noah, but I don’t trust him for one minute.”

Libby laughed, but it sounded harsh. “You think he plans to take advantage or convince me to sleep with him?”

Blair’s voice hardened. “The thought had occurred to me.”

“News flash: he could have totally taken advantage of me last night. We slept in the same bed and I only had on his shirt and my panties. But no worries. He was a perfect gentleman.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an oxymoron when used in conjunction with Noah McMillan.”

Libby sighed, not wanting to have to defend Noah to her friend. “Look, I appreciate your concern, but there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.” At least Blair didn’t seem to be picking up on her disappointment. Still, Blair’s worries corroborated Libby’s original misgivings about her attraction to Noah. She shook her head. She could mull that one over later. “I need a favor.”

“What is it?” There was a hint of the old Blair, guarded and wary.

“Do you know where my purse is?”

“I have it. We didn’t know when you’d be back, so I seemed like the logical person to hold on to it.”

“Then that’s perfect. Can you dig out my driver’s license and express ship it to Caesar’s Palace? And put my credit cards in it too.”

“What?”

“Look, I know it’s an inconvenience for you—”

“It’s not an inconvenience. I have it in my possession. I can ask my assistant Melissa to ship it. The question is why you need it.”

“Do you really think it’s a good idea for me to be traveling around the country with no ID?”

“When you put it that way . . . But why are you traveling around the country at all?”

“Why not? This is like my last big adventure. I turn thirty in two days and then I’ll be old and boring. Let me have one last fling before I leave my youth behind.”

“I’m not even going to comment on the fact that I’m already over thirty. But old and boring? You?”

Libby chuckled. “Well, I’ll give it a go.”

“Be careful, Libby. Just don’t let your heart get hurt, okay?”

“I walked out on a wedding, Blair. I think my jaded heart is safe.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Just send my stuff to Caesar’s Palace in care of Noah. He made the reservation.”

“When are you planning to come home?” Blair asked again.

Libby hesitated. “I don’t know.” She wouldn’t admit that part of her was tempted to take Noah up on his offer to move to Seattle and stay with him, albeit only temporarily. She could room with him until she found her own place. There was nothing for her in Kansas City anymore, and besides, Noah was right. The art scene was much better in the Pacific Northwest.

Maybe she needed a change. Maybe it was time to reinvent herself.

Chapter Eleven

It was still early after they finished eating, so Noah suggested a change of plan. They pushed on to Amarillo, three hours away. This time the room had two queen beds. After Libby got dressed for bed, Noah tried to ignore the tantalizing fact that her pajama shorts and camisole left more parts of her exposed than covered.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was already in one of the beds, propped up on pillows, her hair spilled out around her.

She was gorgeous. He knew this, yet sometimes when he saw her, she took his breath away. But her earlier words—“Noah’s not husband material”—still rang in his head. He really needed to get Abrahams to sign the deal so he could get his job back and prove himself to Libby.

He climbed into bed. “You ready to go to sleep?”

“Yeah,” was her soft reply.

He flipped off the light and let his eyes adjust to the dark as he put his hands behind his head.

“Thank you.” Her words were so quiet, he almost missed them.

He laughed. “For taking you to see a hairball? Most women would have taken off running.”

“Just goes to show how much you really know me.”

And he did know her. He knew that she liked her coffee with several tablespoons of hazelnut creamer. And that she hated to wear socks, even in the winter. That she sucked at parallel parking and had accrued a whopping seven unpaid parking tickets. He knew she often got so absorbed in a photography project, she’d go all day without eating. But when she did eat, she didn’t pick around her food—she had a healthy appetite. He knew she had a kind and loving heart and that she’d do anything for her friends.

And he knew that he loved her.

He expected to be more surprised by the revelation, but perhaps he’d been warming up to it since the moment he’d laid eyes on her. A part of him had guessed at the truth for months. The real question was how he could make her see that they were meant for each other.

“It was a perfect day. I don’t think anyone else would have guessed what I truly needed today. So, yes, a giant hairball and world record egg were perfect. One day, when you finally decide to settle down, you’ll make some woman very happy.”

“What about you?” he asked, deciding to go for it. His pulse quickened and he forced his breathing to remain steady, every sound amplified in the dark.

She released a soft chuckle. “I think maybe it’s time for me to reexamine my life.”

He mentally kicked himself. Obviously, he’d posed the question the wrong way. “Like what?”

“I’ve been thinking about your offer.” She rolled onto her side to face him, propping her head on her upraised hand. He could see her profile in the light filtering through the cracks of the draperies. It reminded him of her photography project and he suddenly wished he had a camera to preserve this moment. But he knew he’d never capture it the same way she would.

“Oh?” What was she talking about? He couldn’t remember making any offer. “And what did you decide?” he asked, hoping her answer would jog his memory.

“I think I want to move to Seattle and stay with you.”

Blood rushed to his head as he fought his emotions. Could it really be that easy?

“It wouldn’t be for long,” she added.

What? Then he remembered how he’d posed the offer. He’d suggested that she move in as his roommate, not his partner. He struggled to form a response, finally settling on, “You can stay as long as you want, Lib.” Stupid. That was stupid.

She laid back down on her back. “I know you’d let me stay as long as I want, but you and I both know that wouldn’t work long term. And your future girlfriends wouldn’t appreciate me living there. Is that what happened with Donna? I noticed you two were together until right before my wedding.”

Should he tell her the truth? Was it time to lay his heart on the line?

“Besides,” she continued. “I’ve decided turning thirty alone is a good thing. I think I should give up men for the year and work on my project. If I’m in Seattle it will be easier to use you as my model.”

“Alone?” he forced out. God, karma sucked. He knew he deserved this ironic twist, but it didn’t mean he was any less horrified.

“Well, I won’t be totally alone. I’ll have you.”

But not in the way he wanted.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“About you moving to Seattle?”

“Well . . . yeah. All of it.”

What should he say? “I think moving to Seattle is a fan-freaking-tastic idea. You know I’ll help you any way I can. And you don’t have to hurry to find a place. You just said you don’t have enough money for the security deposit for a new place in Kansas City. The cost of living is higher in Seattle.”

“That’s the part that concerns me. I’ll be starting from scratch with my clients. But I can supplement my income with a part-time job to save for a deposit.” She sighed with disappointment. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.”

“No, it’s a great idea. But you should just focus on moving to Seattle and settling in with me. Then you can work on your project and build your client list without the stress of making ends meet. There’s no need for you to hurry to move out.”

“You have a one-bedroom apartment, Noah,” she said skeptically. “That will never work long term.”

“I’ve been thinking about moving,” he lied. “The real estate market is improving, so it makes sense for me to invest in a bigger place. You could have the second bedroom and stay with me until you’re more established.”

“What about Tortoise?”

“I’ve been thinking about a house.” Another lie, but he felt no guilt. He’d do whatever it took to get her to agree. “Then Tortoise would have a yard. We could take him for walks in the neighborhood. Besides, I miss the rambunctious guy.”

She was quiet for several long seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” He was more sure about them than he’d ever been about anything in his life. He’d wait for her. A year felt like an eternity, but if she wanted a year, he’d give it to her. Libby St. Clair was worth waiting for.

She was silent again. “This seems so spontaneous, but it feels right.”

“To me too.” She had no idea.

She was quiet again and Noah soon heard the steady rhythm of her breathing.

He lay awake for another hour, repeatedly checking his phone for another message from Tiffany. He didn’t know much about Abrahams’s plans in Vegas other than he was attending a trade convention that began Tuesday at Caesar’s Palace and he and Tiffany would arrive tomorrow afternoon. But he did know that Abrahams hadn’t yet signed a contract with the other engineering firm, which meant Noah still had time. But when he pressed Tiffany for details about his competition, she remained vague and made comments about how excited she was to see him in Las Vegas.

This was bound to get complicated.

The next morning Noah woke before Libby, a rare occurrence he attributed to all the uncertainties in his life. For a man used to coasting through life, he suddenly had quite a few things to worry about.

The top item on his list lay on her side, facing him. The covers had slipped down and her skimpy pajama top had shifted while she slept, exposing a generous amount of her breasts.

A jolt shot straight to his groin and he suppressed a low groan. God, he wanted her, and the urge to slip into bed with her was so strong he had to clench his teeth. With women, Noah was used to acting on urges, so this new restraint chafed. His surging hormones insisted on seducing and screwing her, but his heart wanted more. When his head finally chimed in, it told him his heart was right. Libby had an underlying distrust of men, even if she would never admit it. She expected men to screw her and leave her. He had to prove he wanted more.

He wasn’t sure how to effectively do that other than to continue to be her friend. But then he risked that she would never see him any other way.

“You’re awake?” Her voice was heavy with sleep, and the husky sound of it stirred him even more. “How late is it?”

He glanced at his phone. “It’s around six.”

“Six? How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

She stared at him for several seconds with an intensity that made him want to squirm, but just when he was about to break and ask her what she was thinking, she sat up, leaning over her crossed legs.

“I suppose you have a plan for today,” she teased.

“Of course.”

“More world record sites?”

“Only time will tell.”

She swung her long legs out from under the covers and stood. Her pajama shorts had been pushed up to the crease where her ass met her thighs. Of course, he knew he was only torturing himself with something he couldn’t yet have—but his eyes remained glued to that long expanse of bare skin, his mind drifting to dangerous territory. He imagined those long sexy legs wrapped around his waist as he plunged deep inside her. His hand in her thick dark hair while he kissed her—

“Noah.”

He blinked, only then realizing she’d said something. “What?”

A grin spread across her face. “Where’d you go just now? Thinking about our itinerary?”

If only that were on their itinerary. “Busy day. A lot to think about.”

They were ready to get on the road within less than half an hour. His Facebook alert went off while he was loading his bag in the trunk, and he saw Tiffany had sent him a message.

He’s meeting Eric tomorrow night for drinks.

Shit. He hoped that didn’t mean what he thought it did. Eric?

The other firm.

He had to get there sooner. He had to see Scott Abrahams before he met with the competition.

When they were on I-40 headed west, Noah cast a surreptitious glance at Libby. Many of the women he knew took an hour or more to get ready, but Libby could be up and out the door in thirty minutes, looking more gorgeous than all of those women put together. Today she wore her hair up in a high ponytail. She had on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt, which made her dark eyes more pronounced than usual.

“I’d like to try to get to Vegas tonight,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Which means we can’t stop as much today.”

“Oh,” she said with a frown. “Sure.”

Dammit. The sooner he got to Vegas, the sooner he could try to win back Abrahams, but in the scheme of things what was one day? For the business, it could mean everything. Still . . .

“You know what?” he said with a shrug. “Screw it. We’ll just take our time.”

She turned to him with her dazzling smile. “How about you pick a couple of places to stop, and we’ll still plan on making it to Vegas by tonight. How long is the drive?”

He grimaced. “Thirteen hours. Is that too long for you to do in one day?”

She laughed and turned back to face the road. “No. Once a guy I was with drove us from coast to coast in three days. I can handle being in the car.”

Libby had talked about the previous men in her life before, and hell, he’d hung around with her and Mitch plenty of times before the wedding, so the stab of jealousy that seized his gut took him by surprise. He didn’t like the idea of her being with anyone else. “Did you make a lot of stops?”

She laughed again. “If you’re asking if Barry stopped so I could see giant eggs and hairballs . . . no.”

“Barry?” He couldn’t stop the derision from leaking into his voice.

“He was a surfer. Sun-bleached hair. Washboard abs. His legs . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“You remember his name?”

His tone caught her attention. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He forced himself to take a breath and chill the fuck out. Why was he this jealous of some guy who’d obviously meant nothing to her? “Nothing. Sorry. I haven’t had enough coffee.”

She frowned and shifted in her seat. “I flew out to L.A. to meet a friend. I met him on the beach, and the next thing I knew, I was on this cross-country trip with him and his friends, their surfboards strapped to the top of their van.”

“Van?” He forced himself to laugh.

“A regular Scooby-Doo adventure minus the ghost mystery.”

“What about the mask disguise?” he asked, teasing.

“Oh, there was a mask.”

He wanted to ask her more, but her own tone had changed.

“Let’s just say it was one more hard lesson learned.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “What lesson was that?”

“That most men only want one thing from me. They see my boobs and my mother’s Colombian ancestry and . . . Let’s just say I’d always suspected as much, but that trip confirmed it.”

What had Barry the Bastard done to her? He had an urge to find the prick and beat the shit out of him. “How long ago was this?”

She sighed. “Between my freshman and sophomore years of college.”

“Oh, my God, Lib. You were a baby.”

She laughed. “It seems like that now, doesn’t it? Now that we’re supposedly adults.”

She was right. His own college years seemed like a lifetime ago. Back then he’d thought he would live forever and could get away with anything.

She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant, but he could tell it was forced. “Turning thirty has convinced me it’s time to grow up.”

“I would say growing up is overrated, but I guess we can’t all be Peter Pan.”

She reached over and stroked her hand down his arm, her touch sending tingles of sensation shooting through him. “You’ve been trying. You’ve inspired me.”

His eyes flew open in surprise. “I’ve inspired you to grow up?”

“Yeah.” She leaned closer. “Megan’s told me what Josh has said about you.”

“Nothing good, I’m sure.” He wanted Libby to base her opinion of him on her own experiences, not on half-truths and opinions she’d learned about in a game of telephone.

“You’ve changed, Noah. You’re taking responsibility. You’re helping your brother. You’ve inspired me.”

He shook his head and said bitterly, “I’m no inspiration to anyone.”

“Who would have thought Noah McMillan was capable of humility?” she teased.

But it wasn’t humility. The kicker was that he was still the screw-up, even after his temporary foray into responsibility.

Who was he kidding? This trip to Vegas was a huge waste of time. He was out of a job, and the company was out of a lucrative contract. He’d lost the respect of his brother . . . again. He didn’t have a shot at winning the woman next to him, and no matter how hard he tried he’d never quiet his father’s last words to him: “You’ll never amount to anything.”

He’d spent the last fifteen years proving just that. Why stop now?

He was exactly where he deserved to be.

Chapter Twelve

Talking about Barry had put Libby into a bit of a funk, but now Noah seemed to be stewing in some emotional mess of his own. She realized she might have given him the wrong impression about what happened on the trip, but it seemed too late to clear it up now. No one had physically harmed her or even coerced her into anything against her will, but it had shaken her to her core nevertheless. Normally it was easy to leave her ugly memories in the past where they belonged, so why had she even thought of Barry? The whole curse debacle was dredging up all kinds of things, it seemed.

She was sure she’d said something to trigger Noah’s bad mood, so she went over their conversation, trying to figure out where it had gone wrong. He’d reacted to her story, but he hadn’t retreated into silence until she’d told him that his change was inspiring her own. Was Noah the type of guy who wanted to hang on to the bad-boy persona, even if he was changing for the better? She was trying to figure out how to fix the problem when Noah slowed down and pulled over to the side of the road.

“What . . . ?” she asked, but then she looked up. Right there in front of them, on the other side of the highway, stood multiple old-school Cadillacs. They were arranged vertically, their hoods partially buried in the ground, and covered in splotches of multi-colored paint.

“Cadillac Ranch,” Noah said, resting his hand on the steering wheel as he turned to face the cars.

She’d heard of it, but had never seen it in person. “I wish I had some paint.”

Noah laughed. “I read about that online, that people just go into the pasture and paint the cars. How about we stop on the way back?”

“You’re not going to dump me by then?”

He swung his head to face her, looking startled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aren’t you irritated with me? Isn’t that why you’re so cranky?”

“What?” Noah shook his head. “No, I’m not mad at you, Lib. It’s all on me. I’m sorry for being an ass.” He released a long breath. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Yeah.” She leaned back in the seat with a sigh. No matter how much she wanted to believe him, history had taught her that no man ever stuck around. But to be fair, she’d done her own share of bailing. “Let’s go.”

Noah took a long look at her before he pulled back onto the road. “We’ll paint one when we come back. Unless we go straight to Seattle from Las Vegas. You can help me pick out a new place and then we can fly back to K.C. to get Tortoise and pack your things.”

She wasn’t sure why his suggestion filled her with so much happiness, but the idea of moving to Seattle felt so right. Of course, it was also incredibly dangerous. Now that her lusty feelings for him had made an appearance, she wasn’t sure how well she could hold them back. Seeing Noah for several days every two or three weeks was manageable, but living with him every day . . . How was that going to work? Common sense told her that their relationship was like a carefully constructed house of cards. One wrong move and the entire thing could come crashing down. Was she really willing to risk it?

But the thought of not going filled her with disappointment. When she added it to her disappointment over the curse, her mother, her friends’ blindness to the true nature of her relationship with Mitch—not to mention their own ridiculous happiness, courtesy of the curse—and her inability to finish her photography project, she felt like she was drowning in it. At the moment, moving to Seattle felt like her only lifeline in her sea of loneliness.

It turned out there wasn’t much else to see along I-40. All the fun tourist sites were miles off the highway. Since they didn’t have time to stop, they decided to push through and try to make it to Hoover Dam before sunset. The drive through New Mexico was long and eventless. Noah was still subdued, though he clearly didn’t want to talk about it, and Libby didn’t feel much better. But they’d had so much fun the day before Libby decided to push her negative feelings aside and try to regain some of their lost joy. She made him play several rounds of the Alphabet Game, which instigated a good-natured five-minute argument about the rules.

“Using license plates is cheating,” she insisted.

“Libby.” He spread out his hand and waved it in an arc. “We’re in the middle of the desert. We have to use license plates or this game will last until we reach Las Vegas.”

Next they resorted to keeping track of states on license plates. After Noah found Alaska, he grinned. “This reminds me of the trips my family took when I was a kid.”

Somehow, despite all the time they’d spent together, they’d never delved much into each other’s pasts. She wasn’t proud of her relationship history and she presumed Noah felt the same way about his own. But it felt strange they’d never shared much about their childhoods. “Tell me a story from when you were a kid.”

His eyes lost some of their sparkle. “You mean growing up as Josh McMillan’s big brother.”

The pain in his voice made her suck in her breath. “Noah . . .”

“What?” He glanced at her. “It’s true. He was four years younger than me, but it didn’t take long for me to fall into his shadow. He was like the most perfect child ever born.” He shot her a grin. “But I’d made it easy for him. It couldn’t be too hard to look good in comparison to me.”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” She should have known by now that there was a reason neither one of them had volunteered information about the past, their childhoods included. Libby’s past was full of regrets and betrayals. Why would she want to dredge it all up again? Obviously Noah felt the same way.

He was silent for so long she assumed that was his answer. Then he swallowed, as though he were preparing himself. “No.” He turned to look her in the eye. “I think you should know. I don’t want to keep anything from you, but I need to work up the courage to tell you some of it. Okay?”

She knew he was referring to something other than his childhood now, but damned if she knew what. But he was obviously trying to build a deeper level to their friendship and she wanted that too.

“Yeah.” She gave him a warm smile. “Okay.”

He sighed and sank back into the seat, his left arm gripping the steering wheel. “I was a pretty wild kid. My mom has videos of me literally bouncing on the furniture.”

She laughed. “I believe that.”

“When I was older, I was diagnosed with ADD, but not until grade school. So I went through the first ten years of my life trying so hard to be good, and never succeeding. I just couldn’t pay attention or even remember to behave. Schoolwork was a nightmare. Night after night of me trying to finish my spelling and math homework. My mother was more understanding, but my father . . .” His voice trailed off.

His right hand lay on the seat next to him and Libby covered it with her own.

He took in a deep breath and let it out, keeping his eyes on the road. “My father was a good man. He just didn’t understand me, but Josh . . . Josh, he understood. Josh was like a clone of my father. So when Josh started school—and of course excelled at everything—I think my father slowly disengaged from me.”

“Oh, Noah.”

“But my mother . . .” The affection in his voice warmed her heart. “My mother stood by me, no matter what. Even as I single-handedly fucked up my life in middle school.”

“How could you fuck up your life in middle school?”

He tilted his head and gave her a wry grin. “You didn’t see my grades.”

“You’re obviously intelligent—you graduated from high school early and started college when you were sixteen—so it couldn’t have been that bad. Weren’t you on medication?”

“Oh, yeah. Two daily doses of Adderall, but what most people don’t realize, especially my father, is that medication isn’t some magic spell that kills ADD. It only temporarily tames it. So while I could focus, I was still unorganized and late and left my homework at school almost daily. My mother tried to help me create systems to remember things, but my father wasn’t as understanding.”

“Noah. How could he have been so blind and short-sighted?”

He turned his hand over beneath hers and curled his fingers around her hand. “Libby, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. My father was a good man. He just didn’t understand me. And Josh was so much easier for him to relate to than I was . . . I think he finally decided to leave me to my mother’s devices and focus on Josh.”

“But you were his son, Noah. He just gave up on you?” she asked in dismay.

He shook his head. “It’s not as harsh as it seems, Lib. He stopped trying to discipline me for my grades and behavior in school. He still loved me; he just gave more attention to Josh. And really, it ended up being a good thing. My mother was much less heavy-handed and it made all of us closer in a way.”

“It’s just not right, Noah.”

He squeezed her hand. “Maybe you’re right, because even though we got along better after he took a hands-off approach, I was still jealous of what he and Josh had. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but part of me still craved my dad’s attention and approval.”

“Of course you did.”

“When I was properly medicated—and trust me, it’s hard to properly medicate a teenage boy—I could finally focus on my work and I discovered I was really good at math . . . at a near-genius level. It helped that all my math classes in high school were in the beginning of the day, when I was good and dosed. By the time we figured out I would graduate early, my father took notice. Craving his attention, I told him I had decided to major in engineering. Just like him.”

“Did that make him happy?”

“Ecstatic. I was finally becoming the son he wanted, not the screw-up he tolerated.”

“Noah.”

“No, it’s okay. It wasn’t his fault. You know, I’m not sure I ever want kids. I don’t think parents realize the power they hold. I’ve screwed up everything else in my life. I sure don’t want to screw up my kid.” He frowned and his shoulders slumped.

He was so wrong. He’d be fantastic with kids, even if he didn’t realize it. And maybe the way his father had messed him up would prevent him from making the same mistake. But now wasn’t the time to convince him. “So you majored in engineering for your dad, but did you like it?”

“By the end of my sophomore year I wasn’t sure if I was in the program because I wanted to be there or because I wanted to make my father happy. But Dad was already talking about me joining his firm. His partner was thinking about retiring around the time I graduated, so I could fill his shoes. But the more my father talked about it, the tighter the noose was pulled around my neck, squeezing the life out of me. I felt like it had been decided for me.”

“Did you at least tell your mother?”

A soft smile eased the hard lines on his face. “My mother figured it out before I even said a word. But when she gently brought it to my attention in high school, I told her she was wrong. I was willing to discuss it with her later, of course, but I still wasn’t ready to give up my new relationship with my dad. And then my dad died.”

His tone told her there was a lot more to that story, and she questioned whether she should push him to tell her. But she could tell he’d been carrying this burden around for a long time and he needed to share it. If he was like her—and she knew they were much too much alike for their own good—he wasn’t used to sharing this personal, intimate information with the women in his life. It was a good rule of thumb never to share personal information with someone who won’t be around long. But she sensed that this wasn’t something he’d told anyone.

“It had to be hard when your dad died, but at least you were getting along with him, right? No regrets.”

He swallowed and looked uncertain. “But we weren’t getting along . . .”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Did you tell him that you didn’t want to take over?”

“No.” He shook his head, pressing his lips together. Now he looked like he was about to be sick.

“We don’t have to talk about it, Noah.”

“No.” He turned to glance at her, and the fear in his eyes caught her off guard. “I want you to know. Even if . . .”

“Even if what? I run off screaming?” She turned in her seat to face him. “Don’t you think there’s a reason we haven’t told each other much about our pasts? I’ve done a lot of things life I’m not proud of too. And you and I”—she waved her hand back and forth between them—“we get each other. It would take a lot to make me run off screaming. It’s not like you killed anyone, did you?”

His face paled and he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

Oh, God. What had he done? Her head raced through the possibilities. He couldn’t have killed someone in cold blood. She knew him. He wasn’t capable of it. But until fairly recently, he’d lived an irresponsible life. A DUI wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

She squeezed his hand. “There is nothing you can tell me that will make me run from you. We’re friends, right? Friends stick together. You can tell me if you want. Or you can wait and tell me later. But I’m here. I promise. I’ll listen without judgment.”

“Don’t be so sure of that.” His words were bitter and full of self-loathing.

She stiffened her back and said forcefully, “Try me.”

He took in several deep breaths. He was waging some inner war, so she held on to his hand and squeezed, letting him know he didn’t have to deal with it alone.

“He came to visit me at school,” Noah said quietly.

“Your dad?”

He nodded. “I had no idea he was coming. I was only about an hour and a half away, so it wasn’t a long trip.” He swallowed nervously, but she could tell he was settling into the idea of telling her. “His partner had given him a retirement date and I was preparing for my senior finals. So Dad had brought some papers.” He stopped talking for a moment and took another breath. “He had added me to the firm. As a partner. It was dated to take effect after I graduated, but I’d been doing so well in school . . . and he thought I’d stopped taking my Adderall. For some reason, that made my accomplishments more real to him then.”

“Had you really stopped taking your Adderall?”

His mouth twisted to the side. “Let’s just say I wasn’t getting it through legal means.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Part of it was me. I hate how it makes me feel. Sure, I can focus, but part of me feels dead inside—like everything is too stable, like I lose part of me, as stupid as that sounds.”

“No, I’m an artist, I get that. I need the emotional highs and lows to do my work.”

“Yeah, well, an engineer needs slow and steady, not a fuck-up like me. After I stopped taking it my freshman year, I could tell I was screwed. But I knew I’d disappoint my dad if I went back on it, and he’d know if a doctor prescribed it to me since I was on his insurance.” He glanced at her. “Like I said, my dad hated me relying on medication to do well in school. And honestly, I don’t know that he would have offered me a partnership if he thought I had to live with it for the rest of my life.”

Her anger started to rise. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. I think he considered it along the same lines of being an alcoholic or a drug addict. My need for medication to remain on task was a weakness to him.”

“And your mother stood for that?”

“There was a lot of hidden context, Lib. We compartmentalized things. My mother and I had our relationship. My father and I were mending ours. We all kept things purposely separate, probably in case my progress crashed and burned. And it was a good thing too. It’s the only thing that kept my mother from turning her back on me after he died.”

Oh God. The person he’d killed was his father. But Josh had told them all last June that his dad had died from a heart attack. “What happened, Noah?” she asked softly.

“Like I said, he came to see me. Just dropped by.” Noah pulled his hand from hers and ran it through his hair. “But I’d set up a meeting that afternoon. In my dorm room.”

He stopped and she realized he needed encouragement. “You were buying drugs.”

“Yeah, Adderall. But they weren’t cheap. At that point I no longer took it every day. But I had finals, so I needed more. My source told me he’d sell me twenty pills on credit, and he’d give me a discount if I sold some myself. It wasn’t hard. I knew guys without ADD who’d buy it, so it was a no-brainer. But Dad was there when Vic showed up. And although none of what I just told you was even mentioned that afternoon, my father figured it out pretty fast, even if he didn’t have all the facts.”

“He thought you were a drug dealer.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to.

Libby thought she was going to be sick. Poor Noah had only wanted his father’s love and attention. But part of her was pissed at his dad, pissed that he’d allowed Noah to go to such desperate lengths to please him.

“I’d never seen him so angry,” Noah said so quietly that Libby had to strain to hear him. “His face turned red and his veins bulged and it didn’t take a genius to see he was about to stroke out.”

“What happened next?”

“He ripped the document to pieces, telling me what a bitter disappointment I was and how stupid he’d been to believe I could change. He told me no drug dealer would ever be part of his business and he was still considering whether he’d disown me as a son. Then he stomped out and I never spoke to him again.”

The muscles in Libby’s back knotted. The rest was obvious. “When did he die?”

“Three days later.”

Oh God. Only three days? No wonder he felt responsible. “And your mother? What did she say?”

“I don’t think she even knew. Like I said, we compartmentalized our relationships. But some nights I wonder if I should tell her I’m responsible for killing her husband. Would she forgive me? I know Josh never would.”

“You didn’t kill your father, Noah.”

He didn’t answer, but then what did she expect him to say? He’d lived with this guilt for well over a decade. She wasn’t naïve enough to think that her absolution would make it go away. “Is that all you’ve got, McMillan?” she asked. “Hell, my past is more riddled with shit than that.”

He spun to look at her then, the desperation in his eyes breaking her heart. Maybe he thought she could give him absolution for his wrongs, but she’d learned years ago that she couldn’t give anyone what they needed. She was incapable of it. But for the first time, she wanted to change. She wanted to have more with him. She wanted to share everything—past, present, and future.

But it was a huge risk. They were both fuck-ups. There was no disputing that. The chances were far greater that they would break up and when they did, it would all burn in an epic crash.

Libby was a survivor, but she knew she’d never survive a breakup with Noah.

Chapter Thirteen

For the first time since his father died, Noah felt like some of the crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The guilt was still there—he wasn’t sure that would ever go away—but it had eased a bit. Before today, he’d never considered telling anyone his deep dark secret. In fact, he’d planned to take it to his own grave, but somehow, he had found himself wanting to tell her. He suspected she was the only person who might truly understand.

Someone else might have wanted a different reaction from her—hugs and murmurs of semi-sincere sympathy—but Libby had given him exactly what he needed: she’d insisted his father’s death wasn’t his fault and she’d put his experience into perspective.

Her admission that she’d suffered hardships of her own wasn’t a surprise. Based on the stories she’d told him about her past, he knew she had a tendency to push men away, or more accurately, she would hold them at arm’s length and dump them when things bordered on serious. In retrospect, it wasn’t surprising she’d stayed with Mitch for so long. He was totally different from her usual type—good-looking, emotionally distant, somewhat narcissistic bad boys.

In a nutshell, guys like Noah.

But there had to be some reason she would consistently pick men who were destined to never last more than a few weeks, and he suspected it had something to do with her cougar mother and her absent father.

Noah only wished his admission had triggered Libby to open up. But it had the opposite effect: she clammed up for over an hour after that, only talking again when they stopped for her to pee while he got gas, about an hour outside of Hoover Dam. The glances she gave him let him know that she was wrestling her own demons. His confession had stirred them up.

She started to warm up as the dam got closer. “I want to park in that area where Salma Hayek is sitting when Matthew Perry finds her.”

“You’re not planning to sit on that ledge, are you?” he asked in alarm. “That’s a several-hundred-foot drop.”

She shrugged, wearing a faint grin. “Maybe.”

He wasn’t sure he could stand back and watch her do that, and he was once again surprised by his protective instincts. Noah McMillan was a self-centered man. He was fully aware of it. It had ruled his life for nearly fifteen years. If he let his instincts toward Libby take full rein, what would happen to him? Would he lose himself entirely? But given the life he’d lived, was that really a bad thing?

“They would have never worked out in real life,” she said.

He blinked, realizing he’d missed part of what she’d said. “Salma and Matt? Why? What Hollywood gossip do you know?”

“Not the actors, the couple in the movie. Isabel and Alex. They were just too different.”

His heart lightened. “So if too different is bad, then similar is good?”

“Yeah.” She looked confused. “Maybe.”

He let it drop because a sign for the dam appeared and Libby perked up and begged him for a coin.

“I want to throw it over the side when we reach the middle of the dam. Just like in the movie.”

Grinning, Noah dug out a quarter and handed it to her. He would have given her a twenty-dollar bill to toss out the window if he’d thought it would bring her out of her sullen mood.

But when they pulled into the entrance of the dam, Libby’s enthusiasm waned when she realized they couldn’t drive over the dam.

“National security,” a security officer who guarded the entrance told her when she asked. “You can thank 9/11 for that.”

She was quiet when they walked out of the parking garage and toward the blocked-off road.

“It’s okay, Lib. It’s only slightly different. You can stand in the middle of the dam and toss it over.”

She nodded, still lost in herself.

He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her to his side as they walked. When they reached the middle, she stopped and looked over the edge.

“The water’s a lot lower than in the movie.”

“Drought,” Noah said. “I’ve heard the lake is at a record low.”

“So nothing’s as I expected.”

To anyone else, Libby would appear to be sulking over something trivial, but he knew how her mind worked. This was connected to something bigger and he suspected it had to do with her aborted wedding. “Sometimes that’s not a bad thing.”

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sadness.

He wasn’t used to seeing her so down. That was one thing he loved about her, her ability to find the good in the bad. He just needed to remind her of it now. “You know that whole saying about God closing a door and opening a window. Or is it closing a window and opening a door?” He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows playfully. “Or maybe it’s like Alice jumping down the hole to Wonderland.”

She grinned. “I get what you’re saying. But I’m turning thirty tomorrow and look at my life.”

He put his hands on her shoulders. “Yeah, look at it. You have two great childhood friends who love you enough to hunt me down and skin me alive.”

“Who were completely oblivious to the fact I didn’t love Mitch.” He’d give her that. It had ticked him off too.

“Okay, so they’ve been a bit self-centered and clueless lately. But you have a career you love.”

“Which doesn’t pay shit and interferes with the whole responsible adult gig.”

“Hey, I saved the best for last. You have me.”

A strange look filled her eyes, and for a second he thought she was going to reach up and kiss him. Instead she wrapped her arms around his back and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Yeah, I have you.”

“Libby, you know you can talk to me. I know something’s bothering you.”

“It’s my birthday. I had . . . a wish I was sure would come true, but it didn’t. Now I’m questioning everything.”

“Sometimes questioning everything is good. It puts you on the right track.” Didn’t he know that firsthand? Meeting her was what had made him question everything, and he didn’t want to go back.

“Look at you.” She lifted her head and grinned up at him. “Noah McMillan: life coach.”

“Maybe I’ll make it my new career.”

Worry flickered in her eyes. “Is something wrong with your old one?”

The wind blew her hair into her face. Without thinking, he reached up and tucked the strands behind her ear. “It’s always good to keep your options open.”

She nestled her cheek against his chest and they stood like that for nearly a minute. He marveled that he could be this close to her without planning on how to get her into bed. Not that he didn’t want to get her into bed, but that wasn’t what she needed.

Was this real love? Being with someone and somehow getting something from it even if sex or talking wasn’t part of it. For the first time he got what people meant about growing old with the one they loved.

In the scheme of his life, this was such a small moment, yet every preconceived notion about love was being chucked over the edge of the dam. He’d always thought true love—a love worthy of a lifetime commitment—was full of fireworks and passion. He had never suspected there could be more. His love for Libby was like a river of peace threading through his troubled soul. She quieted his demons and made him believe he could be a better person. That he had a purpose in the world. And while he wanted fireworks and passion, he now realized he needed both.

He kissed the top of her head, letting his lips linger longer than he should have. He expected her to back away and break the moment, but she hung on tight.

“I want to throw the coin together,” she said. “I want to share our wish.”

He wanted to share more than that, but it was a start. “What if we wish for different things?”

She shrugged, a grin lighting up her face as she looked up at him. “Then I guess the one who wishes the hardest will win.”

“Challenge accepted.”

She laughed. “It wasn’t a challenge.”

“It most certainly was. If you tell a guy something’s a test of strength or will, you better believe he’ll try his damnedest to win.”

“Fine.” She grinned as she dug the coin out of her pocket and held it up. “How do we do this?”

“How about you hold it and I’ll cover your hand with mine?”

“I think both of us should touch it,” she said. “Then we can just drop it.”

He shook his head. He knew how superstitious she could be. He wasn’t superstitious at all, but he’d agree to anything she wanted. “How about you hold out your hand.” He grabbed her hand and turned it palm up, spreading out her fingers, then placed the quarter on her palm.

Her body stiffened slightly and she sucked in a tiny breath.

Noah had been around enough women to know when one had a physical reaction to him.

Could she really want him?

With his index finger, he lightly traced around the coin in her palm. “Do you know what you’re going to wish?” he asked, his voice huskier than he’d intended. But now that he knew she might want him physically, his body was ready to go from zero to sixty in less than two seconds.

“Yes.” Her voice was low and she kept her eyes on her hand. “Now what?”

Was she talking about them or the coin? But even if she was talking about them, he knew he had to take it slow.

“Now I put my hand over yours.” He did just that, lacing their fingers together and pressing the coin between their palms. “Then we hold our hands over the edge and on the count of three, we let it drop.”

“Okay.”

They maneuvered their arms over the edge and she looked up at him, the sadness in her eyes replaced with hope.

“One,” she whispered.

Her chest was still pressed to his, their hands linked, and Noah realized he’d never felt more connected to anyone in his life.

“Two.”

What was she going to wish for? Was it fair to hope his was stronger than hers? All he knew was what his heart wanted. Her. He’d heard love was stronger than any force in existence. His wish might prove if that was true.

“Three.” By unspoken agreement, they kept their fingers linked and opened their palms. The coin dropped, but they continued to look into each other’s eyes for several seconds.

Libby finally lowered her hand and released his, looking over the edge of the dam. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

The change of subject was so abrupt, he chuckled. “I told you that you have a bladder the size of a thimble.”

“I do not.”

“I’d challenge you to prove it by holding your pee until we get to Caesar’s Palace, but I don’t want to pay for the rental car to be detailed.”

She laughed and smacked his arm. “You’re a cruel man, Noah McMillan.”

“You like me that way.”

They stopped outside of the restroom and she looked up at him, her eyes twinkling. “I’ll never admit it.”

“I’d never expect you to.”

She continued to stare up at him and he wondered what she wanted. Did she want him to make the first move? But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Then she disappeared into the bathroom and he pulled out his phone to call his brother. Noah suspected her thirtieth birthday wish was to be married, but it didn’t make sense that she would care this much about a pact she and her friends made when they were kids. Other than Mitch, Libby had made no real attempt at a relationship. The goal of getting married by a set date didn’t fit her behavior over the last decade. He hoped Josh knew something that could help him understand what was going on with her.

“I’m surprised to hear from you,” Josh said, sounding condescending. “Has something happened to Libby?”

“Nothing has happened to Libby.” Noah tried to remind himself once again that he’d earned his brother’s distrust. “But I am calling about her.”

“If this is about her driver’s license, Gram’s bringing it.”

“Bringing it?”

Josh laughed, but it sounded like he had something up his sleeve. “Megan’s grandma caught Libby’s bouquet when she tossed it while running to your car. Gram heard you were going to Vegas, so she decided to head there herself to find a man for a quickie wedding. In fact, she’s probably checking into Caesar’s Palace as we speak.”

“And Megan’s mother let her?”

“She may be in her seventies and she may be a bit eccentric, but she’s not senile. Knickers really couldn’t stop her,” Josh said. “Besides, when Megan realized she couldn’t be talked out of it, she convinced Gram to act as your chaperone.”

“Our what?”

“You don’t mind Gram hanging around, do you?” Noah heard the challenge in his brother’s voice. If Noah was up to no good with Megan’s friend, he wouldn’t have reason to protest. While Noah appreciated Gram’s eccentricity more than most people, he wasn’t sure he wanted her hanging around. Josh had him. “That works out for us. In fact, we’re checking in tonight instead of tomorrow. So she came by herself?”

“No, believe it or not, she’s brought Garrett’s nana with her too.”

“Oh, God.” Everyone knew they’d hit it off at Blair’s reception for the wedding that didn’t happen, but a trip to Vegas together? “How’d they arrange it so quickly?”

“It’s Gram. That says it all. I’ll text you her number so you can arrange to meet her somewhere.”

“Yeah,” he said absently. “Thanks.”

“Now what were you calling about?”

Noah hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. “Something’s going on with Libby. She’s not herself.”

“Well, she did just dump a guy at the altar.”

He shook his head, wondering how much to tell of what he knew. It only took him a millisecond to realize he didn’t want to break her trust. He’d play dumb. “No, that’s not it. It’s something else. Something bigger. She’s upset that she hasn’t reached some goal by her thirtieth birthday. Do you have any idea what it is?”

Josh groaned. “It’s that stupid curse.”

“Yes,” Noah said, getting excited. This sounded exactly like something that would motivate her. “When we talked about Libby getting married, you said something about a wedding curse. But you didn’t remember the details.”

“That stupid curse and pact have been about the only thing Megan and Blair have talked about since the wedding.”

Noah glanced toward the restroom door, wondering how much time he had left. “So enlighten me.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure I should tell you anything. You should ask her yourself.”

The bathroom door opened and Libby came out, but she stopped to say something to a little girl who was walking out with her mother. Noah started to panic. He hadn’t learned anything. “Josh! What about the curse? This is important.”

“They all made a pact when they were girls. Megan and Blair didn’t even remember it, let alone take the curse part seriously.”

Libby was heading toward him now. “The pact is the curse?”

“No. The pact was that they were all supposed to be married by thirty. A fortune teller cursed them. She told them their weddings would be a disaster and each of them would end up marrying someone else. The person they were destined to marry.”

“Thanks.” He hung up, still dazed as he watched her make her way to him.

Libby had asked Mitch to marry her. She’d tried to set the curse in motion. But whom had she wanted to marry instead? Could it be him? But maybe not. Blair had broken up with Garrett years before her wedding to Neil, and Megan hadn’t even met Josh until the week of her wedding. Both men had needed to convince their now-wives that they were meant to be together.

Libby stopped in front of him and a smile lit up her face.

And suddenly, Noah had hope they could work out after all.

Chapter Fourteen

Libby practically shrieked with happiness when Noah told her the news about Gram. “So Gram’s really coming to Vegas?” she asked as they walked toward the car. “And Garrett’s nana too?”

“That’s what Josh said . . .”

Libby heard the hesitation in his voice, not that she blamed him. While Noah seemed to love Gram, the older woman was always trying to talk him into being her nude model in her senior citizens’ art class. Lord only knew how wild she might get in Vegas. But Libby was thrilled she was coming. After Libby’s abuela died when she was seven, Gram became a loving substitute grandmother. Libby was just as fond of the older woman.

“Knowing Gram, she won’t be that tired when she gets there. I bet she’ll want to do something tonight.”

Noah turned to face her as he opened the passenger door of the car. He seemed to be studying her more intently than usual. “You’re really happy about this, aren’t you?”

His question surprised her. “You aren’t?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t about me, Lib. It’s about you.”

“No, it’s about both of us, right? It’s our road trip.” Libby was surprised to discover she meant it. She was willing to give in to Noah’s wishes—without resentment—if being with Gram wasn’t what he wanted.

A smile spread across his face. “You know I love Gram, and it’s a riot to watch her and Nana Ruby together. They’re like the Geritol Odd Couple. It’ll be fun.”

“Are you sure?” He sounded convincing, which should have been enough. Noah McMillan never did anything he didn’t want to do. But she wanted to be certain.

The wind gusted and blew her hair into her face again, and Noah reached up and brushed it aside. The touch of his fingertips on her cheek shot lust straight to her core, but something else warmed inside her, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. She stuffed it down along with her rising libido.

“I’m very sure. How about we see if they even want to hang out with us. For all we know, Megan and Knickers concocted this whole thing for us to be their chaperones, and they’ll try to ditch us.”

She laughed and couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck. “You’re brilliant.”

He held her close. “Just tell my brother that.”

“Surely he knows by now.”

But he didn’t answer, and when she looked up at him, he just flashed her a smile. “We have two silver foxes waiting for us at Caesar’s Palace, ready to have a good time. We can’t leave them hanging for too long, can we?”

“I love you,” she said jovially as she climbed into the car. “You’re amazing.”

Noah stood beside the open door for a couple of seconds as if frozen in place, then teased, “That’s me. Amazing. I wish more people would recognize that.” He shut her door and moved around to get into the driver’s seat.

She was excited to see Gram, not to mention the no-nonsense Nana Ruby, but the sun had set and her early funk had worn her out emotionally. She closed her eyes and let the lull of the car soothe her jagged nerves. It hardly surprised her that her thoughts immediately went to Noah.

Libby was glad he’d told her about his father—it explained so much about him. A part of her longed to make a confession of her own, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him about her childhood. She couldn’t place her finger on the reason for that hesitation, which upset and confused her. She had no doubt Noah would be just as understanding of her situation as she had been of his. But she couldn’t let it out of the lock-box of memories. It was something she hadn’t even shared with Megan and Blair, and she’d known them since kindergarten.

She was still lost in thought when Noah touched her shoulder.

“Libby, we’re here.”

She blinked in surprise. “Where?”

“Caesar’s Palace.”

“What? How’d we get here so fast?”

“You fell asleep.”

“But I wanted to see Vegas!”

He laughed. “Trust me, you can see as much of it as you want. But not in this car. While you slept, I made arrangements to drop it off here at the hotel. Which means we have to get all of our things out.”

That wouldn’t be too hard considering everything she had with her was either on her person, in Noah’s suitcase, or stuffed in a clear trash bag. “You know we’re going to have to carry a wedding dress stuffed in a trash bag through the hotel?” she asked, reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, it’s Vegas. I doubt anyone will even notice this time.”

He had a point. She got out of the car and waited while Noah talked to the rental car attendant. When she reached into the trunk for the bag with the wedding dress, Noah—still talking to the agent—moved toward her and handed her a gray garment bag with the name of a tux rental place in bold letters.

He really had brought a tux. Why had she questioned him before? Noah and Libby bullshitted the rest of the world, but they were always real with each other.

He grabbed his carry-on bag and the trash bag and flashed her a smile. “Let’s go.”

She followed him down several long halls until they entered a large marble-clad foyer with a giant statue in the middle. Noah checked his phone, then handed it to Libby. “Josh texted me Gram’s number. Why don’t you call her and tell her we’re here? Maybe we can meet up with them somewhere. If nothing else, you can get your ID.”

She took the phone and wandered closer to the statue, staring up at the painted ceiling. It surprised her that Noah had picked this place with its grand extravagance. He seemed more like a Bellagio guy. Gram answered on the first ring.

“So you ran off with my Libby, did you?” she asked with a chuckle.

Her chest warmed at the sound of Gram’s voice. “Gram, it’s me. The runnee herself. Libby.”

“Libby, my girl. Did you run off to Vegas to get married, too?”

“Too? Who’s getting married in Vegas?”

“Me, of course. I caught your bouquet.” Then the older woman grumbled. “Ruby, stop getting your panties in a wad. If I want to get married, I’ll damn well do it.”

Good Lord. Even Gram—a seventy-something-year-old woman—was having better luck in the love department than she was. Noah hadn’t mentioned this part of Gram’s plan. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not. I’m hoping to meet him here.”

“In Vegas?”

“It seems like a great place to start. After I snag him, I can take him to an Elvis wedding chapel before he changes his mind.”

Libby grinned to herself. “Elvis? I didn’t know you were an Elvis fan, Gram.”

“I’m not, but going through a drive-thru chapel seems tacky.”

Libby chuckled. “I won’t argue with you there. Noah said you brought my driver’s license?”

“I brought more than that, my girl. Why don’t you come up so I can show you?”

Libby laughed. “That sounds like a bad pick-up line, Gram.”

“Maybe I’m trying to help you get picked up. I’m in room 1835 and you better get up here soon. Don’t bring Noah.”

That caught her off guard. “Why not?”

The older woman laughed. “I don’t think you want him seeing some of it.” Her voice was muffled when she spoke again. “Ruby, give it a rest!”

Libby had no idea what Gram could have brought that she wouldn’t want Noah to see—but it couldn’t be good. Especially if it had something to do with “getting picked up.” “Noah’s checking in now. I’ll come up to see you and then meet him in our room.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you in a few minutes. And on second thought, bring that boy up with you after all. I need to see if he looks just as good as the last time I saw him at Blair’s wedding. I’ve been talking him up to my sculpting class.”

Noah was walking toward her as she hung up, trailing his suitcase and the trash bag stuffed with her wedding dress. A few people gave him strange looks, but for the most part, everyone ignored them. “You get a hold of her?”

“Yeah, she’s in room 1835 and she’s up to no good.”

He laughed. “It’s Gram. That’s a given.”

“She says she’s brought”—she made air quotes—“more than my license. At first she told me not bring you, but she changed her mind.”

His grin spread wider. “That does sound like trouble.”

“Especially since the main reason she wants you there is so she can make sure you look as good as you did at Blair’s wedding. I suspect she’s about to proposition you to sit for her sculpting class this time.”

He burst out laughing. “That old woman is bound and determined to see my bare ass. Perhaps I should just drop my pants and show it to her.”

Gram isn’t the only one who wouldn’t mind seeing your bare ass sprang into her mind out of nowhere. What in the world was wrong with her? If she couldn’t control her raging hormones, she might have to ask to sleep in the grandmothers’ room.

“How about we go up to Gram’s room first and get your surprise? Then we can drop everything off at our room.”

“Sounds good.”

Noah was quiet in the elevator, but Libby wasn’t feeling very talkative herself. She realized things were about to change. It had been easy to pretend the outside world didn’t exist when it was just her and Noah.

Perhaps Noah felt the same way and that’s why he’d reacted so strangely to the news that the older women were crashing their party.

But before she knew it, she was knocking on the door to Gram’s room, and as soon as Gram answered the door, any hesitation fell away. “I’m so glad you didn’t marry that giant teddy bear,” Gram squealed, pulling her into a hug. “That boy wasn’t the man for you.”

Libby hugged her back, instantly feeling better. “Turns out you were one of the few people who thought that way. Noah was against it from the moment I told him.”

Gram chuckled as she stepped back and pinned her gaze on Noah. “Of course he was. He’s in—”

“Standing right here,” Noah quickly interrupted, putting a hand on Libby’s shoulder. “And I’m eager to hit some blackjack tables, so how about we grab Libby’s things, drop our things off at our room, and then the four of us can head out?”

Gram’s gaze narrowed on him. “Impatient, are you? I didn’t take you for a gambler, Noah McMillan.”

“Sometimes you have to play the hand you were dealt,” Noah responded.

“As long as you don’t fold too soon,” Gram winked.

Libby looked back and forth between the two, wrinkling her nose in confusion. “What are you two talking about?”

Noah flashed her a tight grin. “Nothing.” Then he returned his attention to Gram. “You up for blackjack?”

Gram shook her head. “You two will have to hit the tables without us. We’re about to head out to see a show.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Noah murmured, half-heartedly. “What are you seeing?”

Gram scowled and waved her hand. “Some old geezers’ rock group Ruby wants to see. I hope they put enough denture adhesive in this time. Last night they spat their dentures out onto the stage. It was all over Twitter.”

“You try singing a vibrato like that without spitting out your dentures,” an older woman’s voice shouted from inside the room. “And that wasn’t a rhetorical question.”

Gram looked over her shoulder. “It wasn’t a question at all!” She turned back to Libby and Noah, shaking her head. “We’ll do what she wants tonight and what I want tomorrow.” She had a wicked look in her eyes and Libby wondered if Nana Ruby knew what she was getting herself into.

“I heard that!” the older woman, who could only be Nana Ruby, shouted.

“Then how about after the show?” Noah asked.

“After the show, I’m goin’ to bed,” Nana Ruby called out from behind Gram. “And let those poor kids in, Maude. They’ve been drivin’ all day.”

Gram ushered them into the spacious room with two beds. As soon as she caught sight of Nana Ruby, sitting on the edge of one of the beds in a sparkly shirt and a pair of jeans, Libby’s mouth dropped open.

“I told you this shirt was a bad idea,” Nana Ruby grumbled, getting to her orthopedic-shoe-covered feet.

“You keep your shirt on, Ruby O’Donnell,” Gram said. Then she burst out laughing at her pun.

“You look amazing, Nana Ruby. Honestly,” Libby assured her. “I’m just not used to seeing you look so . . . colorful. And sparkly.”

“Maude said if we went to see The Crooners, I had to wear this shirt.” The gray-headed woman scowled as she sat back down. “At least only three people know me here.”

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Gram said with an over-exaggerated wink. “Ain’t that right, kids?”

Noah laughed. “I promise not to spread word of your exploits once we get home, Gram.”

Her eyes widened. “What? I was counting on it. Especially if I get you drunk enough to drop your drawers. I bet your hiney’s as firm as the sculptures all over this hotel.” She turned her sharp gaze to Libby. “Am I right?”

Libby gasped in shock and sent an embarrassed look to Noah, but her mind was now preoccupied with wondering how firm his ass actually was. No. Don’t go there. “I wouldn’t know, Gram. Noah and I aren’t like that.”

She shook her head, her lips pursed. “Well that’s a damn shame.”

Libby’s face flushed and she forced herself not to glance at Noah to gauge his reaction. He moved up beside her, and she was very aware of the warmth and nearness of him when he settled a hand on her shoulder. “You said you brought Libby more than her license?”

“Yeah.” Gram picked up a black carry-on bag and set it on the bed. “I went to your place with Megan to pick up some clothes.”

“Oh, God,” Libby mumbled under her breath. “Please tell me Megan picked them out.”

Gram laughed as she patted the bag. “I took some liberties.”

Noah’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. “I can’t wait to see what you chose, Gram.”

She started to unzip the bag and then pointed at him. “You wait in the bathroom.”

“Why?” He sounded defensive, like a chastised little boy. Libby found it adorable.

“This isn’t for your eyes.” She pointed to the door. “Go.”

Noah waggled his eyebrows, pleading with Libby to let him stay, but she shrugged and smirked. “You heard the woman.” Ordinarily, nothing in that bag could have embarrassed Libby, but with her out-of-control hormones or whatever was going on with her, she’d rather not have Noah around if Gram was about to pull out something risqué.

Noah grumbled about missing all the fun, but he winked at Libby as he shut the door. “Make sure to talk really loud so I don’t miss anything,” he said from the bathroom.

Gram lifted the lid and Libby sighed with relief when she saw perfectly ordinary items—rolled jeans, some rolled T-shirts, a cosmetic bag. It was far neater than she usually packed. It had Megan’s touch all over it. “Megan grabbed your makeup bag and some shampoo and shower gel.”

Libby broke into a huge grin. She didn’t usually mind going so au naturel, but she had a sudden urge to look her best for Noah tonight, which would require her full arsenal. “What else did you bring?”

Gram gave her a mischievous glance as she pulled out several slinky cocktail dresses. “For you to go out with Noah.”

Libby’s pulse picked up at the thought of wearing the black beaded dress with its neckline that plunged farther south than an Antarctic expedition. “Gram.”

Nana Ruby shook her head and mumbled something about pneumonia under her breath.

Next Gram pulled out the lingerie Megan and Blair had given her for her honeymoon—a black lace bra and panties and an ivory babydoll with a lace bra, a sheer lace skirt, and matching G-string panties. They were French—and quite expensive. But she reminded herself that she had no business wearing them here in Vegas, even if the thought of Noah’s reaction made her skin flush.

She had to pull herself together.

She feigned a sigh of impatience. “In case you’ve turned senile since Saturday—and I know you haven’t—you know as well as I do that this is a road trip, not a honeymoon.”

The older woman shrugged and tossed a pair of red lacy panties onto the bed. “Then there’s this.” She held up a sexy, silver, barely-there negligee.

“Um . . . Gram. That’s not mine.”

She winked. “I know. It was my wedding gift to you. I hope you don’t mind that I unwrapped it and put it in with your things.”

“Since there was technically no wedding, you don’t need to give me anything at all. You should return it.”

Gram waved her off. “You need this.”

Need it? No. That nightie would get her into trouble faster than she could charge up her Visa in an art store. “I’ve sworn off men for the next year. I won’t be needing that anytime soon.”

“Sworn off men?” Gram asked in dismay.

“Leave the poor girl alone, Maude,” Nana Ruby muttered, shaking her head. “She doesn’t need a man. A year off might be good for her.”

“Poppycock!” Gram exclaimed, waving her hand around as if she were physically batting away nonsense. She turned to Libby. “Why would you give up men? Have your ovaries shriveled up? Are you having hot flashes?”

She was having hot flashes all right, but not the kind Gram was talking about. “No, Gram. Let’s just say I keep making stupid choices with men. Maybe it would be best if I took some time off to focus on me. Then I can figure out what kind of guy I want.”

It was far easier to figure out what she didn’t want—some version of Josh, Garrett, or Mitch. She’d be bored in ten minutes if she married a responsible, rule-following, white-collar guy. And that was the problem. The men who weren’t like that were the ones she’d wasted the last twelve years—okay, fifteen years if she included high school—of her life on. Men like that didn’t stick around.

And she couldn’t begin to untangle the knot of complicated feelings she had when she thought about Noah.

But Gram was like a bulldog with a peanut-butter-filled treat. “A year? That’s ridiculous. What if you meet the perfect man for you? Your soul mate?”

Gram’s words sobered her. “I don’t think I have a soul mate.”

“Pfft.” Gram waved her hand. “I know for a fact you have a soul mate.”

Libby needed to change the subject fast. There was no way she wanted to spend this entire trip in some existential funk. “What else is in there?”

Gram put everything back except the black dress. “Oh, you know. This and that.” She leaned toward the bathroom door and shouted, “Noah, you can come out now.”

Dammit. How much had he heard? Why hadn’t she taken into consideration that he could probably hear every word? Of course, she’d already told him about her celibacy plan, but she still didn’t like the thought of him overhearing their conversation.

He emerged from the bathroom grinning ear-to-ear and looked around the room. “What? No Chippendale dancers? No collapsible stripper poles?”

Libby couldn’t suppress her giggle. Given that it was Gram, those things were entirely too possible.

“This girl doesn’t need Chippendales when she has you,” Gram said.

Nana Ruby made a sound like she’d started to choke. If only Libby could get Gram to choke her words down.

“I’ve seen her dance,” Gram said, holding up the dress. “She doesn’t need a stripper pole. But this is a lucky dress. If you want to win at the tables tonight, you should make sure she wears it.”

“Gram!” Libby protested. The dress wasn’t much better than the lingerie. Probably worse. At least if Noah saw the lingerie, it would likely be with the purpose of removing it. The dress was pure provocation. She had one way out of this. “Noah isn’t superstitious, Gram. He doesn’t need luck.”

“That’s not exactly true.” Noah wrapped his arm around her back and rested his hand on her upper arm. “Libby’s my lucky charm. But if the dress makes her even luckier, then it’s a deal.”

Gram smiled like she’d just stolen the crown jewels. Nana Ruby muttered under her breath. But Libby barely even noticed because Noah’s hand slid down her arm, sending flutters through her insides.

This was bad, bad, bad. He wasn’t even touching her bare skin, yet his touch was igniting a fire inside her that refused to be doused with a blanket of common sense.

But Noah seemed totally oblivious to her struggle and his hand continued to make a lazy trail up and down her forearm. “If you and Ruby are going to the show, you better get going. According to the signs downstairs, it starts at seven-thirty, and this place is huge.”

Given the state of her surging hormones, Libby wasn’t sure losing her chaperones was a good idea, but it gave her an excuse to escape Noah’s hold without looking suspicious. She bolted for the door and jerked it open, her hand slipping on the handle in her haste.

Gram chuckled as she closed the suitcase and started to zip it. “That eager to ditch us, huh? I get it.”

She’d forgotten all about the suitcase. And she’d never even asked about her license. Good God, Libby. Get it together. “Gram, did you bring my wallet too?”

The older woman snickered as she patted the case. “It’s all in here, Libby, my girl.”

She started to lift it off the bed, but Noah slid over and pulled it from her. “I’ll take it from here.”

Gram pointed a finger at him. “You owe me a drink later. And I plan to collect.”

Mischievousness filled Noah’s eyes. “Just text me and I’ll tell you where we are.”

She gave him a brisk nod and then tilted her head toward the door. “Come on, Ruby. Let’s go see some old fogies spit their dentures into the audience. But I’m warning you, I’m not throwing my Depends up on that stage.”

“You don’t even wear Depends,” Nana Ruby grumbled as she walked into the hall.

“Damn straight, I don’t,” Gram said as she grabbed her purse and followed her friend out of the room. “I’ve got on a black piece of cloth that looks like dental floss riding up the crack of my ass, and nobody wants to see that flying anywhere.”

Gram was wearing a G-string. Libby couldn’t let herself picture that.

Noah burst out laughing and his eyes were twinkling when he glanced at Libby on his way out of the room, rolling both bags and carrying the dress.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

Chapter Fifteen

Noah paced the room, waiting for Libby to emerge from the bathroom. She’d been in there for forty minutes. And while she’d taken a shower, she didn’t usually spend much time on makeup or fixing her hair. She didn’t need to. Libby was a natural beauty—inside and out.

He hated that most of the men she’d known hadn’t looked much beyond her beautiful face and body. Had he done the same thing at first? He gave himself a serious self-examination and concluded that while her physical appearance had grabbed his attention, it was her personality that had made him want to see her again.

He’d never met a woman like Libby St. Clair, and he was positive he never would again.

He sure as hell hoped this plan to make her see him in a different light worked.

“Lib,” he called through the door. “How much longer are you going to be?”

“I’m not feeling well. I think I should stay in tonight. You go ahead without me.”

A momentary twinge of concern seized his stomach, but he pushed it away when he took into account that she’d protested vehemently about wearing the black dress. He had no idea what it looked like, Gram had held it in a wadded-up ball, but Libby—who was never embarrassed about anything she wore, wedding dress in a steak house aside—didn’t want him to see her wearing it.

There was no way in hell she would get away without showing him.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he answered. “Get out here. The blackjack tables are calling our names.”

She didn’t answer but the door cracked open an inch.

“Come on, Lib. How bad could it be? If you look like a clown, you can change. I promise.”

“It might make me look like I’ve made an unwise career choice, but I don’t think it’s a clown you have to worry about.” The door opened more and she stepped out into the doorway.

She stood still, shifting self-consciously. Something in his brain registered that she was acting out of character—other than the wedding dress, he’d never seen her self-conscious—but all the blood that usually went to the reasoning part of his brain had rushed to his crotch.

She grimaced. “That bad?”

He still couldn’t answer. He couldn’t do anything at all except stare at her. From Libby’s reaction to Gram’s demand, he’d suspected it was a sexy cocktail dress, but nothing could have prepared him for this—a sleeveless black dress that clung to every sexy curve, the hem hitting her mid-thigh. And the neckline . . . oh, God. The neckline. The V dipped below her breastbone, cradling the sides of her breasts like he longed to do with his hands. Something in his head signaled him to lift his eyes from her cleavage to her face, but that view was just as enthralling. She’d put on more makeup than usual and had made her eyes smoky and her lips red and shiny. Her hair was in a loose up-do, similar to the one she’d worn on her wedding day, but a few tendrils hung next to her cheeks, showing off the small diamond solitaire earrings she always wore.

A groan escaped her parted red lips. “I’ll change.”

“No!” he barked without thinking. The only way the dress was coming off was if he stripped it off her himself.

“But I look like a hooker.” She put her hand on the doorjamb and jutted her hip to the side. If anything, she looked even sexier.

Get your shit together, McMillan.

He didn’t trust himself near her, yet his feet propelled him forward anyway. “No, Lib. You definitely do not look like a hooker.”

“But—” Any further protest died on those gorgeous full lips as she stared up at him.

He stood directly in front of her now and it took every bit of self-control he possessed to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing her. But it wasn’t time for that. He still needed to prove himself.

“You’re wearing the tux,” she murmured. Her gaze locked with his as her fingers played with his lapels. It was a delicate, fluid gesture—like they’d been together for years and placing her hands on his chest was the most natural thing in the world.

He let a slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “I might as well get my money’s worth out of it.” He winked. “Thanks for picking black instead of powder blue.”

She cringed, but then a grin lifted the corners of her mouth. “I wanted mauve.” Her shoulder lifted in a delicate motion that held him captive. “But I did let Mitch pick out everything.”

“Well, thank you, Mitch,” he murmured, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice light.

Her gaze dropped to her hands and she stiffened slightly, as though realizing what she’d done. He expected her to jerk her hands away, but she kept them in place, her palms flat and her fingers splayed. “I think I should change.” Her words were soft and uncertain.

“No, Lib. You should definitely not change.” Dammit all to hell. His body was resisting this untested concept of self-control and his voice had taken on a sultry tone.

To his surprise, she pressed herself against him—only slightly—but enough to tell him that she was ready and willing.

God help him, so was he.

Don’t fuck this up, McMillan.

He took a step back. “So now that we’ve settled that, let’s go play some blackjack.”

Confusion swept over her face, and perhaps a bit of hurt, but she gave him a wavering smile. “Okay.”

Gram hadn’t thought to pack Libby a purse to go with her dress, so she left her faded Indian print bag in the room. Noah stuck her license in his wallet in case she needed it and reached out a hand to her. “Let’s go.”

She hesitated before taking it, but then she let him thread his fingers with hers. He knew he was sending her a confusing mix of signals. Part of him needed to know that she wanted him physically as much as he wanted her, but his gut told him the time wasn’t quite right yet. Not if he wanted his plan to work.

They walked to the elevator hand in hand, and when the doors opened, he released her and followed her into the car, moving his hand to the side of her hip.

She gave him an inquisitive glance, but the seven other people in the elevator stopped her from asking questions. She was taller tonight, wearing shiny, black, fuck-me heels that spiked his lust even higher.

Libby St. Clair was the sexiest woman he had ever known and he had no idea how he was going to keep his hands to himself all night. Let alone sleep with her in the king-size bed in their room.

God help him.

The door opened and a well-dressed middle-aged man stood in the entrance. His gaze landed on Libby’s face and quickly zoomed down to her cleavage. Noah’s hand tightened on her hip and he locked eyes with the asshole as the guy made a move toward Libby. The look in Noah’s eyes made him hesitate and alter his course.

Libby’s body sank into Noah’s side, and he glanced down to see if she’d noticed the silent exchange between him the fucker who was now sneaking glances at her ass. If she had, she didn’t let on.

The top of her head hit right under his chin and the smell of her shampoo filled his nose—jasmine and a faint hint of apples. It was her scent and he realized now that he’d missed it the last couple of days. The complimentary hotel toiletries she’d been using smelled fine, but this . . . well, this was the essence of Libby St. Clair.

The elevator reached the first floor and Noah kept his arm around her as the doors opened, then ushered her into the hall and toward the gambling area. Several people from the elevator followed them, including the guy.

The fucker was still checking out her ass.

Noah tensed, about to turn around and confront the bastard, but Libby looked up at him, her mouth pursed in disapproval. “I have no idea what’s gotten into you tonight. Just ignore him.”

His eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes, I know when guys are checking me out. It’s a survival skill,” she teased. “Ignore him.”

“But—”

She pulled him aside and waited until the guy passed them, giving Libby a slight backward glance before rounding a corner. Noah jerked against her hold, but her fingers dug into his sleeve. “Noah, I think it’s sweet how you’ve taken on this protective role, but beating the shit out of someone in my defense isn’t going to help a thing.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “Now come on. You promised to spot me a few games of blackjack.”

Sweet? Protective role? He forced himself to calm down, surprised at how outraged he was on her behalf. How many times had he himself checked out a woman? It had to be equivalent to the number of breaths he’d taken since his birth. But this was his Libby—she was a person with feelings, not some mannequin to be ogled.

Dammit, taking a good look at himself in the mirror sucked donkey ass.

She reached up and kissed his cheek and then rubbed the spot with her thumb. “Don’t let this ruin our night.”

“You said you hate to gamble.”

She stared into his eyes for several seconds. “It depends on what I’m gambling on.”

Before he could respond, she grabbed his hand and pulled him along. Could she be talking about him? Them? Was she thinking about a quick fling or something more? Maybe she was talking about moving to Seattle. Or even choosing a new deodorant. The possibilities were endless.

He barely registered where they were going. The truth was, he hated Caesar’s Palace, but Scott Abrahams was staying there, and as massive as Vegas was, it made sense to stay in the same place. He hadn’t heard from Tiffany, and that had him more than a little worried. He still hadn’t let her know he only wanted information from her, but he’d deal with that when the time came.

Libby headed for one of the blackjack areas, but Noah pulled her back. “We should eat first. You have to be starving.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m not hungry.”

“We have to eat sometime tonight and we’re all dressed up. How about I make a reservation somewhere? We can play for an hour or two and then have a late dinner.”

She pondered it a moment. “That’s a great idea. Maybe Gram can join us.”

Gram. He’d almost forgotten about her. So much for a romantic dinner, not that it was going to be one. His current plan was to woo her until they got to Seattle, then tell her how he felt. Her one-year celibacy plan was an issue, but he was pretty sure it was only a protective measure. If she insisted on following through with it, he’d respect her wishes and wait.

He pulled out his phone and looked up a contact. “How about if I make reservations at Blue Willow for four at eleven? If Nana Ruby decides not to come, it’ll be no big deal to go from four to three.” When she seemed to hesitate, he added, “I ate there last time I was in Vegas, and it’s pretty nice.”

“But is it expensive? With the hotels and the food . . . I know we’re splitting the cost, but I spent a lot of money on the . . .”

Her voice trailed off and he knew she was talking about the wedding. She’d mentioned that she’d paid for most of it herself, without her mother’s financial or emotional support. She’d barely let Mitch pay for anything, which seemed odd considering she had given him everything he wanted. But she hardly had any money in the first place, so she had to be broke now.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Tomorrow’s your birthday. You only turn thirty once. Consider it my birthday gift to you.”

The mention of her birthday sent a dark shadow over her face and she turned toward the gaming area again. “I need a drink.”

“What do you want? I’ll get you one.”

“I can get my own drink,” she said defensively. “You take care of getting chips.”

The memory of the asshole in the elevator was still fresh in his mind. “I think we should stick together.”

She laughed, but the sound was devoid of any humor. “I know how to handle men, Noah. Just like you know how to handle women. It’s what we do best.”

His mouth gaped open. It was the truth, but it was hard to hear it put so bluntly.

She shoved his arm. “Go on. I’m going to flag down that waitress. What do you want?”

Beer wasn’t going to cut it tonight. “Gin and tonic.”

She lifted her eyebrows, but something was still off. “Going for the big guns tonight, huh?”

She cut off his response by flagging down a departing waitress. When she noticed he was still standing there watching her, she mouthed go with an exasperated look.

After he made the reservation for the restaurant and bought a hundred dollars’ worth of chips, he found her sitting at a blackjack table. She had the rapt attention of the two men who sat to her right. They looked to be in their thirties and both were fairly good-looking and obviously interested in her. Libby was playing with a small stack of chips in front of her, picking them up and letting them drop into a stack with a rhythmic clink.

“Mississippi, you say?” she asked, her voice sultry. “I’ve never been to Mississippi. Is it as hot as they say it is?”

She was flirting with them.

He stuffed down his anger and jealousy. As far as she was concerned, they were nothing more than friends. Still, he’d never tried to pick up women when they were together. He’d told himself it was out of respect for her, but now he knew it was because he’d loved her all along. Apparently she didn’t feel the same limitation now that she wasn’t with Mitch.

Noah stood back and watched her, surprised she didn’t realize he was there. It was obvious the two guys hadn’t put it together that they knew each other. She leaned forward, batting her lashes, and put her hand on the hand of the man closest to her.

He’d never seen her this way. She’d always been real with him, even that first weekend before Josh and Megan’s wedding. Still, he’d always suspected she was an accomplished flirt. Her current performance confirmed it. This wasn’t the woman he knew, and dammit, it was hard to see her this way.

“Libby,” he said, trying to keep the tightness out of his voice. “Where’d you get the chips?” He already knew, but dammit, he wanted her to admit it.

She turned and flashed him a brilliant smile, but there was something dark in her eyes. “Craig here was kind enough to loan me a few. Wasn’t that sweet?”

The two men were now giving their full attention to Noah. He glared at the man on the end, whose reddening face identified him as Craig.

Craig slid off his stool. “We didn’t know she had a boyfriend, man. She told us she was waiting for her friend. We thought her friend was a she.”

Both men grabbed their chips and Noah said, “Hey, don’t forget this.” He tossed a twenty-five-dollar chip across the table toward them.

They scurried away and Libby looked up at him with a lazy grin that didn’t reach her eyes. She pushed a glass toward him. “Here’s your drink.”

He reacted before he had time to think it through. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” she asked innocently. “Are you going to play or not?”

The dealer’s eyes narrowed, waiting to see how this played out.

This wasn’t how he’d hoped things would go at all. “I thought you’d sworn off men for a year.”

A sheepish look covered her face.

What had made her go from welcoming his touch minutes ago to practically blowing him off for two strangers? Then it hit him.

She was terrified.

She was scared to admit she wanted something more with him. So her instinct was to prove she didn’t need him by finding some guy for a meaningless one-night stand.

He was still upset, but he forced himself to see this as progress. He smiled even if he didn’t feel like it, then reached for her chips and slid them away. “These are luckier,” he said, replacing them with part of his stack.

There was worry in her eyes when she met his gaze, but it vanished in an instant, replaced with another performance. “And what do you have for luck?”

His smile turned more genuine. “You.” Then he added, “Gram said your dress was lucky, remember?”

She nodded and turned her attention to the table.

They put some chips down and the dealer dealt them their hands. After fifteen minutes, Libby was twenty dollars richer and Noah was ahead by fifty. “I told you it was our lucky night,” Noah told her with a wink.

A waitress passed their table and Libby got her attention. “Another mojito, please.”

Libby shot Noah a questioning glance and he shook his head. “I’m good.”

They spent the next thirty minutes at the table, both of them winning some and losing some, then Libby finished her drink and stood. “Let’s go do something else.”

They scooped up their chips and moved away from the table. Libby wobbled slightly, so Noah took her arm. “Why don’t we get something to eat?”

“What time is it? I thought you made dinner reservations for eleven.”

“It’s around nine-thirty, but we haven’t eaten since this afternoon. I’m hungry. Let’s get a snack.”

“I thought you wanted to gamble.”

“Let’s sit at the slot machines. We can grab something to eat while we play.”

“Okay. But first I have to go to the restroom.”

“Of course you do,” he chuckled. “I’ll go get something to eat and meet you at these slots right here, okay?”

She studied him for a moment. “Afraid I’ll ditch you?”

His breath caught. “Should I be?”

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “No, you’re safe for now.”

Chapter Sixteen

Libby went into the restroom and took care of her business, then washed her shaking hands and looked at her reflection.

Why had she flirted with those guys? It wasn’t like she was interested, but if she was going to act on this impulse to sleep with someone, it would be better to do it with a stranger she’d never have to see again than to sleep with Noah and lose him forever.

But it made her feel slimy and unworthy of Noah’s friendship.

She wasn’t sure why his reaction to those guys had surprised her. She couldn’t ignore what was right in front of her face. Noah wanted to sleep with her. There was no misinterpreting that. She wasn’t sure she could be strong enough for the both of them.

He was waiting at a slot machine with a bowl of nachos and a couple of bottles of water.

She sat down next to him, grinning. “You realize how ridiculous this is, right? I’m wearing this dress and you’re in a tux, but we’re sitting here eating chips covered in processed cheese in front of dollar slot machines.”

He grabbed a chip and took a bite. “It’s kind of more us, don’t you think?” He held up the container toward her. “The nachos, not the machines.”

She took a chip and leaned over the container so she didn’t drip cheese on her dress. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“How come you’ve never read my palm?”

The question came out of nowhere and caught her off guard. “Uh . . . I don’t know.” But that wasn’t true. She realized that now. She’d been worried about what she’d see, or more aptly, what she wouldn’t see.

He took another chip and looked into her eyes. “You’ve read the palms of just about everyone we know, yet you’ve never asked to read mine.”

“First of all, we hardly have any friends in common, and second, you’ve never asked me to read your palm.”

He set the tray of nachos down and held out his palm to her. “Libby,” he said in a husky voice. “I want you to read my palm.”

Her heart began to race, and she fought to keep her breathing even. She started to reach for his hand, then stopped. What was she so afraid of? Confirmation of what she already knew? Noah McMillan wasn’t the man destined for her. “You don’t believe in it.”

“Maybe I do. You do. And you were right about Josh.”

“I thought you said it was a lucky guess.”

“What difference does it make if I believe or not? I want you to read my palm.”

She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, the contact sending a jolt of desire straight to her core. Trying her best to ignore it, she cradled his hand in hers, using her right index finger to trace the lines.

“What does it say?”

Her nerves were on edge and she could hardly concentrate on the grooves in his hand. “You have a deep life line. You’re very healthy.”

“True.” Her eyes were still on his hand, but she could hear the grin in his voice.

“It’s also very long. You’ll live a long life.”

“So you’re saying I can take up dangerous sports without fear, like sky diving or rope-free cliff climbing.”

She grinned and snuck a look at him. “No.”

His eyes held hers and she felt a new connection to him. What was it? It was at once deep and unnerving and . . . comforting. Then it hit her.

Love.

She loved him.

Not just you’re my best friend love. She was head over heels in love with him.

“Go on,” he coaxed softly. “I want to hear about my love line.”

Oh, God. This was terrible. What did she do with this knowledge—this yearning for him? Noah was bound to freak out if he knew she felt anything for him other than friendship and primal lust. If he even got an inkling, he was sure to take off running. That’s what he’d done with all of his past relationships.

Get it together, she told herself. Don’t let him see anything’s wrong. She took a breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m not done with your life line.”

“All right.”

With great difficulty, she tore her eyes from his and looked down at his palm. “There are several hash marks on your life line indicating major life events.” She lifted his hand closer to her face. “The first was in your very early twenties.”

“My father’s death,” he murmured. “When I took over the company.”

“Another in your mid- to late thirties.” She paused and took a closer look. “Several, actually.”

“Bad things?”

She pursed her lips. “No, not necessarily. The way some of these are smaller and close together suggests they might be marriage and children.”

Nausea stirred in her gut as she thought about him with someone else. A wife who wouldn’t understand their relationship . . . and would be right not to.

She took another breath, hoping her hands didn’t start to shake, and decided it was safer to move on. “This is your head line.” The pad of her index finger rubbed over the line running above his life line. “You’re very intelligent.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “But we knew that already.”

A gleam of reassurance filled his eyes. He always joked about being an idiot and a fool. It shocked her to realize that part of him actually believed it, his academic achievements in his teens and in college notwithstanding.

“See how it curves and is so long?” she asked, waiting for him to look. “That means you’re a creative thinker and problem solver.” Creative thinker, but not necessarily creative. What did she make of that?

“And my heart line?”

“Why are you so insistent on your heart line?” She was scared to study it.

“I want to know what my future holds.”

“Sometimes surprises are good.”

“What does it say?” he prodded.

She dragged her gaze from his again. She’d looked into his eyes for months without feeling this way, though she’d noticed from the start they were the perfect color—a warm golden brown. Why was she so drawn to them now? “It says . . .”

Noah’s phone rang and they both jumped, caught by surprise. He groaned and reluctantly pulled his hand from Libby’s. “I better check to see who it is.” Then he groaned again and rejected the call.

“Anything important?” she asked.

He frowned. “No, just some work thing.”

“Shouldn’t you take it?”

“No.” His answer was firm as he held out his hand. “Are you going to finish with my love line?”

She gave him a sad smile. “We both know how that one goes.”

“No, Lib. You don’t.”

Was he right? Could they really work? Because she knew that’s what he meant. The real question was what he wanted. A quick fling or something more? What if he didn’t run away from her if she told him she loved him? Could she really take the risk? She was terrified. She’d lost so much. She couldn’t lose him too.

“Why did you propose to Mitch?”

“What?”

“Libby.” He was more insistent. “I know about the curse.”

She looked up at him, blinking in confusion. “What?”

“The curse. You told me about the pact, but Josh told me about the curse.”

Humiliation burned her face. “What do you know?”

“I know you want to uphold the pact you and your friends made when you were girls, and I also know you believe you were cursed by a fortune teller.”

She closed her eyes. “And?”

“I’d rather hear it from you.” His voice was soft and understanding.

Her eyes opened. “You want to hear that I asked Mitch to marry me so the guy I was supposed to marry would show up?”

“Who was supposed to show up, Libby?”

Tears filled her eyes. “It’s stupid, I know. But the fortune teller said our weddings would be disasters and each of us would marry someone other than our intended.” She sucked in a breath. “It worked for Megan and Blair, so why wouldn’t it work for me? Especially since I was the one who believed in the curse the most. So I proposed to Mitch, expecting him to show up.”

His eyes hardened. “Who, Libby? Who did you expect to show up?”

Her voice broke. “I don’t know.”

His shoulders sagged, then he took her hand and cradled it between both of his.

She gave him a half-shrug. “Megan met Josh on that plane and Blair never thought she’d see Garrett again. Neither of them expected to marry the men they married. Megan didn’t even know Josh.” She paused. “I thought something like that would happen to me.”

“So that’s why you let Mitch plan the wedding and wouldn’t let him pay for it.” He seemed to be saying it more to himself than her. “You never wanted to marry him?”

“You must think I’m a total bitch.”

He slowly shook his head. “No, Lib. I love that about you.”

“That I intentionally hurt Mitch?” she asked in disbelief.

“No. That you believed in something so much you risked everything to make it happen.”

“Fat lot of good it did me. Tomorrow’s my birthday and look where I’m at.”

“You’re with me.” He studied her face as he wiped a tear from her cheek. “Libby, did you ever really think about who you were supposed to marry?”

She shook her head, but a little voice inside her head was screaming that the answer might be right in front of her. But her palm told her differently. Which did she believe? The curse or the lines on her palm? Could she believe in one without the other? She swallowed the lump in her throat. “It doesn’t work that way. I wasn’t supposed to know.”

“Think about it now. Tomorrow’s your birthday. Who are you supposed to marry?”

Was he saying what she thought he was? “The curse isn’t real, Noah.”

His gaze held hers. “I think it is.”

“You’re not superstitious,” she whispered.

His finger lightly traced her jaw, sending shivers of need down her spine. “I am now.”

She wanted this more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, but now that she might actually have a shot at it, the fear that she would screw it up terrified her. She jumped off the stool. “I want to play poker.”

His eyes widened. “Poker? Right now?”

“Yes.”

“You hate poker.”

“I want to play anyway, but I need another drink first.”

She flagged down a waitress and ordered another mojito. Noah watched her for a moment before ordering another gin and tonic.

Her life was shit. She might as well get drunk.

She knew it was stupid and irresponsible, yet that’s what she was. Irresponsible. Just ask anyone. No wonder the curse hadn’t worked for her. She didn’t deserve it.

Chapter Seventeen

“I need to go the bathroom before we play poker.”

She’d had several drinks and she really did have to pee often, but he recognized what she was doing. He held on to her hand when she tried to pull away. “Don’t run away, okay? Promise me you won’t run away.”

She looked into his eyes. “You’re still safe.”

For now hung in the air as he dropped her hand and watched her walk into the restroom.

Noah’s phone rang and he reluctantly pulled it from his pocket. Tiffany had called earlier. He knew he needed to set up a time to meet her, but he didn’t want to think about Tiffany when he was with Libby. It might have been different if he hadn’t slept with Abrahams’s assistant earlier in the year. It felt disrespectful to call her while he was with Libby, but how could he hope to make a life with the woman he loved if he didn’t have a job?

He needed to talk to Tiffany, as much as it killed him to do so.

But Tiffany wasn’t the person on the other end of the phone. Noah wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or thankful. “Hey, Gram. I thought you were at that old geezers’ show. They spit out their dentures already?”

She released a belly laugh. “Ruby was snoozing in her chair.”

“I was not!” Garrett’s nana shouted.

Gram snorted. “Yes, you were, old woman. I can’t help if it you have the napping hours of a farm hand.”

“I own a damn farm!” Ruby protested.

“Why do you think I used that analogy?”

“Gram,” Noah asked. “Am I on speaker phone?”

“Seemed easier this way.” She cleared her throat. “Obviously, we left. How are things goin’ with you and Libby?”

“Fine. She’s in the restroom.” He couldn’t very well tell her what was really going on.

“Fine?” she barked. “Is she wearing that little black thing?

“Uh . . . yeah . . .”

“And things are just fine?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know what it’s going to take to get the two of you to hook up if that dress didn’t do the trick. Do I have to lock you in a room?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Of course it’s obvious,” Ruby cut in. “A camel dying of thirst in the desert would spit his last sip of water to put out the damn fire between you two. Why do you think we’re really here?”

That rattled around in his head for a few seconds.

“So?” Gram demanded. “What the hell are you doin’ to get the girl?”

“Maybe Libby should be the one trying to get me,” Noah said. “I thought you were a feminist, Gram.”

“Damn straight I am, but you and I both know that girl’s even more of a commitment-phobe than you are.”

“I said that too!” Ruby shouted.

“Commitment-phobe? But she planned a wedding . . .” Noah said. “She believes in the curse.”

Ruby laughed. “Boy, you got a lot to learn, don’t ya?”

“Yes, ma’am?” His voice rose, uncertain that was the right answer.

“Good boy. Admittin’ you don’t know everything is the first step to pullin’ your head outta your ass.”

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Libby’s like a kid who wants to go to the amusement park and ride a rollercoaster,” Ruby said. “She’s excited to get there, but she starts to chicken out before getting on the ride. She just needs some encouragement.”

Noah grew indignant. “I’m not pushing her to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

“You take me for an idiot, boy?” Nana Ruby barked.

Noah jumped even though the woman was on the phone. “No, ma’am.”

“Nobody said anything about dragging her onto the damn ride and tying her in.”

“Unless she’s into that Fifty Colors of Gray BS stuff,” Gram said. “Then she might like to be tied in.”

“It’s BDSM,” Ruby corrected. “Not BS.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s what Megan said. How’d you know?” Gram asked.

There was a pause before Ruby answered, “I might have read it.”

“Might have?” Gram asked. “How did you might have read it? Did you whack your head and get amnesia after you finished?”

“No, dammit!” Ruby shouted. “Okay, I read it. Then I joined MatureSingles.com.”

“And?” Gram encouraged.

“I met a man! Are you happy? Don’t you dare tell those prude daughters of mine that I found a man who’s into spanking.”

“Okay!” Noah interrupted. “That’s TMI!”

“Only if she leaves her jaw open too long for oral sex,” Gram said. “Do you, Ruby?”

“Oh, my God, Gram!” Noah shouted, drawing the looks of the people around him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get that mental image out of his brain. “That’s TMJ, not TMI.”

“Oh, then what’s TMI?”

“Too much information,” Ruby supplied.

“How’d you know that?” Gram asked.

“I got a Twitter account.”

“I have one too and I still didn’t know that.”

“My grandkids taught me to use it,” Ruby added smugly.

“Huh,” Gram said, then returned her attention to Noah. “So is Libby into BPM?”

“I give up,” Ruby groaned.

“I don’t know if she is or not. It hasn’t come up in discussion.” Noah’s face was burning. “I haven’t even kissed her yet.”

“What?” Gram shouted.

“Maybe he’s old-fashioned,” Ruby said.

That seemed to appease Gram since she swung the conversation a different direction. “Are you like those fundamentalist Christians who think they should fill their baskets full of kids?”

“What?”

“Their quivers,” Ruby said. “How do you get everything so wrong?”

“Quiver? I bet those kids are quivering with lust. They can’t even hold hands or hug before they get engaged, and they don’t kiss until the wedding. I bet they don’t last thirty seconds on their wedding night. You don’t want that happening with Libby, do you?”

Noah stifled a groan. How was he having this conversation with two grandmothers? “Look, I appreciate the advice, but I know how to handle women.”

Both women started cackling.

“What?” he asked defensively.

“There’s a difference between handling tarts and handling the woman you want to marry,” Ruby said. “And it’s plain as day that Libby’s scared to make a commitment. Now how are you going to deal with that?”

“My plan was to give her all the space she needs . . . but that dress . . .”

Gram chuckled. “That’s why I called it a lucky dress. It’ll help you two get lucky.”

But he still didn’t think that was what she needed from him. She needed to know he was going to stick around. “I just did everything short of flat-out telling her I love her and want to marry her, and she jumped up like I’d shot her and said she wanted to play poker.”

“Libby hates to gamble,” Gram murmured.

“I know.”

“She’s gonna go looking for another man,” Gram said. “That’s what she does.”

“She already did,” Noah said, trying not to sound defeated. “But she didn’t do anything.”

“That’s good,” Gram encouraged. “That sounds like progress.”

“She told me she wants to take time away from relationships. If that’s what she wants, I’m going to give it to her.”

“While you play with your strumpets?” Ruby asked.

“No,” Noah said firmly. “I’m going to convince her that she’s the only woman I want. Ever.”

Gram chuckled. “There may be hope for you two yet.”

Chapter Eighteen

Noah was stuffing his phone into his pocket when Libby emerged from the restroom. He must have noticed her questioning glance because he said, “Gram. I told her about dinner. They’ll meet us at the restaurant.”

“Okay.” But Libby’s anxiety was making her skin feel too tight. Noah seemed more reserved as they made their way to the poker tables, yet his eyes never left her, making her more and more anxious.

Don’t blow this, Libby. Don’t lose him.

She still had no idea what he wanted. A fling? Something more long term? Their earlier conversation had insinuated he was interested in the latter . . . maybe even in marriage. But this was Noah, a man who’d informed her months ago that he was allergic to marriage. She would have chalked her confusion up to the alcohol she’d consumed, but she couldn’t do that since she’d barely even had a buzz all night. The drinks here must be watered down.

She knew she should just ask him, lay all the cards on the table, but when she started to ask, her throat squeezed tight.

They sat at a table with another couple and a middle-aged man with a Texas drawl. Noah was right—she hated poker—but you couldn’t really talk to your tablemates, so she had some time to think. But half an hour later, she was a hundred dollars poorer, totally sober, and ready to move on.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “Tomorrow is your birthday.”

“My birthday,” she sneered. “A pox upon my fucking birthday.”

He looked amused. “Someone’s been binge-watching Game of Thrones.”

She curled her upper lip and looked for another waitress. Getting drunk sounded like an even better idea than before they sat down the poker table. She’d gotten sidetracked with her plan by the game.

“Turning thirty’s not so bad.” He shrugged and grinned. “I survived it with very little scarring.”

“I was supposed to have my life together by now, Noah.”

“What do you think is missing?”

“I wanted to have an exhibit.”

“You’re working on it. You just need to get back on track. Once you get to Seattle, you’ll be able to devote all your time to it.”

Seattle. Over the last few hours, she’d forgotten about moving to Seattle. If she moved to Seattle, what if they tried this and it epically failed? She couldn’t bear watching him sleep with woman after woman.

Now she was even more depressed and confused.

“What else you got?” he asked.

The pact. The curse. She knew it was stupid and juvenile, but she’d thought it might mean someone would love her enough to stick around.

“Libby.” His voice was gentle and coaxing. “Why are you so upset about turning thirty?”

“My life sucks giant donkey balls.”

He chuckled. “How giant? Anything like the Czechoslovakian egg? Because those would be some impressive balls.”

She swatted his lapel. “Don’t make fun of me, Mr. I-have-my-life-together-and-I-had-a-fucking-girlfriend-but-I-don’t-need-her-because-I’m-sexy-and-all-the-women-in-the-world-throw-themselves-at-my-feet.”

“That’s a very long name,” he murmured. “It’s really weird that I don’t remember changing it. And where’s this line of women? It’s the men who are lining up for you, Libby St. Clair.”

“Who cares?” She didn’t want to talk about all the women he’d screwed. Then she had an idea. “It’s my birthday. I want to play a game.”

Hesitation filled his eyes. “What kind of game?”

“A drinking game.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the counter of a nearby bar. As soon as she had the bartender’s attention, she ordered six shots of vodka.

Noah cringed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re planning to get totally shit-faced, huh? At least it’s not tequila.”

“Vile stuff.” Back in college, she’d lost a few nights to tequila.

“So what’s this game?” he asked.

She laughed at the fear in his voice. “Truth or dare.”

His eyes widened slightly before focusing on her. “Okay.” He didn’t sound any less fearful. “But I have to warn you that this seems like the wrong place for it. It’s kind of a classy joint. Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

She shook her head. “Nope. This is us. All dressed up fancy but keepin’ it real.”

The bartender started to pour the shots, and when he finished Noah stopped him before he walked off. “Can we have some shot glasses with water? Say six? And a draft beer.”

“Sure.” The guy shook his head muttering something about weirdos as he left to fill the glasses.

Libby was about to pounce on him, but Noah held up his hand in defense. “Since I’ve turned thirty and become an old geezer,” he teased, “I’ll pass out after three shots. Let’s make it last longer.”

“Where’s the fun in drinking water?”

“We’ll mix them up so we won’t know if we’re drinking vodka or water. Like a drinking Russian roulette game.”

“Okay.” She had to admit it was a good idea. “And the beer?”

“Hey, beer goes with everything. So how’s this work?”

“We get to ask each other a question. If you answer my question, I have to drink the shot. If you pass, you do.”

“What can we ask?”

“Anything.”

He pondered it for a moment, then the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “What about the dare part?”

“Drinking the shots is the dare.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ll only play if daring is an option.”

What was he up to? What did it matter? She was the one who’d suggested the game, and she’d done it because she wanted answers.

After the bartender delivered Noah’s draft and their shot glasses of water, Noah mixed up all the shot glasses, then gave her a wink before he took a sip of his beer.

She squared her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll go first.”

Noah grinned. “I’m ready.”

“Truth.” She gave him a sexy smile and leaned forward. “Why did you break up with Donna?”

She studied his eyes, but he gave nothing away as he rested his forearm on the counter. “Many reasons. She was a bitch. She tried to change me. She hated my apartment. She wanted me to get another job, preferably investment banking . . . and she hated you.”

“She hated me? She didn’t even know me.”

“She was jealous of you. I think she knew that she and I would never be as close as you and I are.”

The giddiness she felt over Noah’s misfortune filled her with guilt, yet it was undeniable. But she could understand why Donna hadn’t understood their friendship. Right now she struggled to understand it herself. Better to focus on the other reasons. “She wanted to change all those things about you? What a bitch.”

“She had her moments,” he said with an air of self-deprecation. “My turn.”

“Okay.” She picked up a glass and drank, feeling it burn down her throat. Vodka.

“Do you have any birthmarks or interesting freckles?”

She set the glass on the counter. “Really? That’s your question?”

“Hey, we’re just getting started. Gotta start with the easy ones and work my way up. So? Do you?”

“You already know I have that brown spot on my leg.”

He leaned forward, his hand resting on her exposed right knee. His fingertips made a slow path up her inner thigh, then under the hem of her dress and up a couple more inches. “Right here?” His hand stopped, his fingertips gently caressing her skin. “I saw it last summer when you were wearing that pair of jean shorts you love, the ones with the frayed ends. The ones that make your ass look amazing.”

He’d checked out her ass that long ago? Focus, Libby, but it was hard with his hand so close to other parts of her that wanted to be touched. “You said it looked like a map of Australia.”

“For the record, I was referring to your birthmark at the time, not your ass. Any more marks?”

“One.”

His fingers stroked a lazy pattern on her inner thigh in the area of the mark. He must have studied it extensively to find it so accurately without looking. The thought that he’d spent time studying her legs turned her on even more.

“Go on.”

“It’s on the underside of my left breast. A red spot.”

His gaze dropped to her cleavage. “You know I want proof.”

“Maybe later.”

His eyes smoldered with desire. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

What were they doing? They were ruining everything. “That’s all of them,” she forced out as she slid a shot glass toward him. He removed his hand from her leg to lift it to his lips.

This is a dangerous game, she thought to herself. But she was tired of fighting the way she felt for him. This wasn’t just untethered lust she felt—she wanted to sleep with him. Alcohol would give her an excuse.

He downed his shot. “I want a dare.”

She laughed. “Nope. I get to pick. Truth.”

His gaze drifted to her lips, making it hard for her to concentrate.

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Sixteen, in the back of my car with Penny Lindquist.”

“Was she your girlfriend?”

“For about a week. Apparently she had a crush on me, and when she found out I was graduating early to go to college, she propositioned me.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Thus began a long line of women in my life.” For a moment it looked like he was about to say something more, but then he grinned. “My turn.”

“I have to drink first.” She grabbed a random glass and gulped it down, regretting the move. Vodka.

Noah turned his smoldering gaze on her. “Dare.”

“I don’t want a dare.”

“You get one anyway.” He leaned forward again, his eyes hooded and darker than normal.

She sucked in a breath, sitting back on her stool. “What is it?”

“Kiss me.”

Her gaze landed on his lower lip and her heart pounded against her chest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this nervous about kissing a man, but this was Noah. There were so many reasons to think this through more, but the alcohol was beginning to cloud her judgment.

“Are you sure?” she asked him quietly.

“Very. But only one kiss.”

Only one? Was he testing her first? Did he want to see if she was a good kisser before deciding whether she was worth the risk?

Did it matter? She wanted this too, so what was holding her back?

He sat on his stool, his right forearm draped along the counter. His legs were separated, so she spun to completely face him and tucked her legs between his. She leaned toward him, her face inches from his. “You didn’t say what kind of kiss. How do you know I won’t give you an innocent peck?”

“I don’t. The anticipation of what you’ll do is part of the thrill.”

She touched his lower lip with the tip of her finger, skimming it lightly while she held his gaze, their lips inches apart with only her finger separating them. His tongue darted out to lightly lick her finger and an electrical current shot to her core.

He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertip before pulling it down to his lap. “Are you going to torture me all night, Libby?” he asked, his voice deep and husky. “Or are you going to kiss me?”

“Is this torture for you, Noah?” she asked in a whisper.

“You have no idea.”

She moved her hand to his cheek and lowered her mouth to his, her tongue resuming the path her finger had taken. He gasped into her parted lips before she pulled his bottom lip between hers, raking her top teeth across it. He tasted of beer and vodka and the promise of so much more. His hand was suddenly on her neck, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and her seductive playfulness vanished, replaced with want and raw need.

And then he pulled back, his breath coming in quick pants, his eyes wide with wonder. “That was by far the best dare I’ve ever given.”

She had a new appreciation for the dare aspect of their game too. She picked up a shot glass and held it out to him.

A grin lit up his face. “We are so going to regret this in the morning.”

Was he talking about the kiss, the drinking, or both? But they’d just boarded this runaway train, and she didn’t see any way off at this point. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow. I want my twenty-nine years of living to go out in a celebration. Truth.”

“I want a dare. Just like the one I gave you.”

“You don’t get to pick either. Truth.”

His eyes danced with playfulness at her response, relieving her anxiety that he’d be upset with her. “What deep dark secret do you want to know this time?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

His playfulness faded slightly. “Once.”

That surprised her. From what he’d told her, he’d never been with a woman long enough to fall in love. “Who was she?”

He shook his head.

“You’re not going to tell me? Why not?” Was it Donna? Had he cared for her more than he’d let on?

He picked up the shot glass. “I haven’t had near enough of these to tell you yet.” He downed the drink, slammed the glass down and pounded the counter, then turned his attention back to Libby. “Have you ever been in love?”

She didn’t need to consider her answer. She just picked up a glass and downed it. Vodka. There was no way she was admitting she loved him and only him.

“Damn,” he murmured, his gaze drifting from her mouth down her neck and hovering at her chest. “That bad?”

“Not enough of these.” She waved the empty glass and set it on the counter.

The whole thing was making her sad and she didn’t want to be sad. Tomorrow would be sad enough. She tilted her head to the side and grinned. “I think it’s time for a dare.”

His eyes lit up, which didn’t surprise her. He was more a dare man than a truth man. That thought sobered her. Man after man had lied to her, but she’d always counted on Noah to not be on that list. But what if she’d gotten that wrong too?

“Do you tell me the truth?” she asked, surprised the words blurted out without a filter. Maybe this drinking game had been a bad idea after all.

His head jutted back in surprise. “What do you think I’m lying about?”

She waved her hand wildly. “Nothing. Anything.”

“So you’re not accusing me of lying about anything in particular, or just in general.”

She was ruining their fun again, but she had to know. “Everybody lies, Noah. Parents lie to kids—the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus. People tell little white lies to make someone feel better—yes, your singing voice is beautiful. Your baby is the cutest thing ever. But I’m talking big lies.”

He took her hand in his. “I have never lied to you, Libby. At least not intentionally.”

That didn’t make her feel any better.

He grunted and pulled her hand closer. “I told you I was coming to the wedding . . . and then I said I wasn’t. Maybe you saw that as a lie, but it wasn’t. I truly intended to come when I said I would. I simply changed my mind.”

“Then you changed it back again.”

“So you could actually say I lied about not coming.”

She shook her head. This was so confusing. What she really wanted to know was if she could trust him, but she couldn’t ask him that. What was he going to say? No? But he’d always been there for her—the late night calls. The long talks. The encouragement with her photography. Maybe she should just trust the feeling in her gut. The one that told her she could rely on him.

“What’s the dare?” He took a sip of his beer and then set the glass on the counter, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I’m ready.”

She grinned. “You have to stand up and sing.”

“What?” he said with a laugh. “There’s no music in here, Lib.”

Her grin turned smug. “You were the one who wanted a dare.”

He shook his head, took another gulp of beer, and stood.

“I want you to sing ‘Like a Virgin,’” she said, laughing.

“Oh, no.” He rolled back his shoulders, smiling. “You only said to sing. I get to pick.”

He grabbed his phone and tapped on the screen. “I’m not really an a cappella singer,” he explained, glancing up at her. “Karaoke’s more my style.”

He leaned over the counter and grabbed an empty glass, then pressed play and tucked the phone into it. She could barely hear the music over the murmur of voices in the bar, but she burst into laughter when she recognized the tune.

“Dog goes woof. Cat goes meow,” Noah belted out in a loud tenor.

“Oh, my God,” she said trying to catch her breath. He was singing “What Does the Fox Say?”

He continued, grinning ear to ear. He nailed most of lyrics in the first stanza and only stumbled over a few animals.

“I have to admit it frightens me that you know the words!” she shouted at him.

He just beamed and launched into the chorus. “What does the fox say?” He shimmied his shoulders and his hips and continued to sing.

Libby could hardly catch her breath from laughing so hard.

The bartender came over with a frown, shaking his head. “Sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Libby continued giggling as Noah feigned indignation. “Why? Are the other guests jealous of my performance?”

The employee’s frown deepened. “There are other places to go if you want that kind of entertainment.” He took Noah’s phone out of the glass and pressed the screen, turning off the music. “The patrons in this lounge prefer a less rambunctious atmosphere.”

Several couples were shooting them condescending glares, but a few were laughing.

“Not a problem.” Noah winked at Libby and stuck his phone in his pocket. The bartender brought the bill and Noah signed for it, still grinning. He picked up two shot glasses and handed one to Libby, then clinked it with his. “To getting kicked out of bars.”

“Hear, hear!” She downed the shot and slid off the stool, nearly falling on her ass. Water.

Noah grabbed her elbow and pulled her upright. He kept her steady as they walked out of the bar.

“Let’s go sing karaoke,” Libby said, holding on to his arm.

Without warning, he leaned over and kissed her, his tongue coaxing her lips open before it plunged into hers. His lips made her almost delirious, and the alcohol only added to the effect.

When he lifted his head, he looked into her eyes. “Marry me, Lib.”

Her eyes flew open. “What?”

“We can go right now. Get married in a chapel. We still have time to do it before your birthday.”

“Noah . . .” She shook her head. The three rapid shots—or was it four?—were all slamming into her bloodstream at once, making it even harder to focus.

“Just say yes.”

There were reasons she shouldn’t, but damned if she could come up with any right now. She’d never had as much fun with a man as she did with him.

Besides, what if the curse had worked? What if Noah was the man she was supposed to marry? God knew she loved him, but did he love her?

“Yes.”

“Yes?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

He kissed her again—much shorter this time, but just as passionate—then lifted his head and shouted, “We’re getting married!”

A few people stopped to stare at them and a group of women in cocktail dresses started clapping. One of them catcalled, “Snatch him up, honey. He’s hot!”

“Isn’t that sweet?” an older woman asked the man next to her. “A young couple in love.”

Her husband squinted in disgust. “Them and half the people in this damn town.”

The crowd added to Libby’s giddiness. This had to be a dream. She was marrying Noah. This was happening.

“Let’s go get a taxi.”

He tugged her toward the hotel lobby, but she dug in her feet. “Wait! I need my dress.”

He stopped and eyed her, his hand skimming from her waist down the curve of her hip. “Why? You look absolutely perfect.”

“If I’m getting married, I need my wedding dress. I can’t get married in black. It’s bad luck.”

“The girl needs her dress,” the older woman tsked.

“Lib, it’s ten-thirty. We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to make it by midnight. And we still have to get a marriage license.”

“What?” Of course they needed a license. How could she have forgotten that?

“It’s open late. We can still get it, but we have to hurry.”

He pulled her down the hall to the elevator bank to their wing.

She looked up at him, blinking to make him more in focus. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this.”

“Neither can I.”

Chapter Nineteen

Something in the back of Noah’s head told him to slow down and think this through, but the alcohol encouraged him. He loved her. This was what he wanted. Why wait?

When they got to the room, Noah pushed her against the wall and kissed her again.

“Maybe we should get married tomorrow,” she said in a breathy voice, bringing him to his senses.

He took a step back and rubbed the top of his head. “No! We have to do this tonight.” He grabbed the trash bag off the floor and dumped her dress onto the bed. “How do we get this back on you?”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “I’m not putting it on now.”

He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You can’t see me in the dress before the wedding. It’s bad luck. I’ll change there.”

“But I’ve already seen you in it!”

“You haven’t seen me in it before I walk down the aisle to you!”

If this was what she wanted, he’d make it happen. “Okay.”

She started stuffing the dress back into the bag. “Come on. Help me.”

They crammed it back into the bag and then ran to the elevators. The doors to a car opened and a group of men stared at them, then at the bag in Noah’s hand.

He lifted it a few inches in greeting. “We’re getting married.”

It must have been the shocked looks on their faces that made Libby giggle as she leaned against him, resting her head on his upper arm. The love and joy in her eyes sucked his breath away.

He couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

A parking attendant greeted them at the entrance of the hotel. “Where to?” Then he looked down at the clear trash bag and his eyebrows lifted in understanding. “Oh. Which chapel?”

“We don’t know, but we need a marriage license,” Noah said. “And we need to be married before midnight.”

“Okay. Here’s what you do,” the man said. “You get your license, then you go to Little Heaven. My aunt Angelica owns the place. I’ll tell her you’re coming so they’ll be ready for you. Sound good?”

Noah looked down at Libby for confirmation. Beaming up at him, she nodded.

He grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

The parking attendant nodded and led them to a cab and opened the back door. He leaned his head into the open front passenger window. “This young couple needs to get a marriage license. Take care of them for me, will you?”

“Sure thing, Ned.”

Noah helped Libby into the backseat and climbed in beside her.

“But stick around and wait for them. They’re on a tight deadline. They need to go to Little Heaven afterward. They have to make it before midnight, capiche?”

“Got it.”

The bag was still outside the car, but when Noah tried pulling it in, he couldn’t fit it through the door. He gave it a tug, then fell backward, his head on Libby’s lap. He looked up into her surprised eyes. “Your wedding dress is kind of a bitch.”

She burst out laughing.

“Here, let me take that,” Ned, the Caesar’s employee, said, unprying the bag from the door.

“We need that!” Libby shouted, shoving Noah off her lap.

He righted himself before he fell to the floorboards.

The man leaned over and grinned. “I’m only putting it onto the front seat, miss. My friend Paul here will make sure nothing happens to it, right, Paul?”

“You got it, miss.”

Ned shut both doors and banged on the roof.

The taxi driver pulled out of the circle drive and headed toward the strip. “Where are you kids from?”

“Seattle.”

“Kansas City,” Libby said, “but I’m moving . . . to Seattle.”

“Aww . . .” he chuckled. “A long-distance relationship. How long you two been together?”

“Five months,” she said. “But I was with another guy until last weekend.”

The driver shrugged. “Hey, this is Vegas. You wouldn’t be the first cheaters to get married.”

“Oh, no,” Libby protested. “I didn’t cheat. We were just friends.” She turned to Noah. “You wouldn’t cheat on me, would you?”

His eyebrows rose in shock. “Cheat on you? God, no, Lib. Never. I respect you too much to hurt you like that.”

“Are you going to ask me the same question?” she asked.

He slowly shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. “I already know the answer.”

“Hey, no worries,” the driver said. “No judgment from me. I’ve seen crazier things happen in this city.” He handed them a bottle of water and winked. “You kids look a little thirsty.”

Noah screwed off the cap and handed the bottle to Libby, watching her mouth as she drank down several gulps. He was still in shock that she’d kissed him. He’d kissed her and it was even better than he could have hoped. How much better would the rest be?

The ride to the courthouse was faster than Noah expected, but they’d finished the water as Paul pulled up to the curb. He glanced at his phone to check the time. 11:05 and he’d a missed text from Gram.

Oh, shit. He’d forgotten all about the dinner reservation.

He helped Libby out of the car and quickly called Gram.

“I’ll be waiting right here,” the cab driver said, starting to pull away.

“My dress!” Libby shouted.

Noah lowered the phone from his ear. “We’re not getting married here, Lib. Just picking up the license.”

“But what if he drives off with it?” Worry filled her eyes. “I can’t get married in black.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “He won’t. I haven’t paid him yet. Come on.”

He heard Gram’s muffled voice. “Noah! Did you butt dial me? If so, I hope that butt’s naked.”

Shit. He put the phone to his ear as he held the door to the office open for Libby. “Sorry, Gram. No, I didn’t butt dial you, and no, I am not naked.”

“That’s a pity,” she grumbled. “Still haven’t made progress with our girl?”

“Actually, we’re walking in to get a marriage license, then off to Little Heaven Wedding Chapel to get married.”

“You’re what?”

A woman at the counter pointed to her ear and shook her head at Noah. “Gram, I’ve gotta go. Thanks for all your help.” He hung up and stuffed the phone into his pocket, ignoring the new round of vibrating. He’d deal with Gram later.

There were two couples ahead of them. The first couple at the counter looked barely eighteen. The girl kept glancing around as if she was waiting for her parents to show up and ground her. Maybe she was.

He looked down at Libby, his chest burning with love. He couldn’t believe he’d proposed. He couldn’t believe she’d accepted. Could it really have been this easy all along?

No, neither one of them had been ready until now.

Next was a gay couple. They looked like total opposites. The man who did the talking was stylishly dressed and had a take-charge personality, while his soon-to-be-husband wore jeans and a soft sweater. But when they looked at each other, the love in their eyes was unmistakable.

Is that what people saw when they looked at Noah and Libby together? He glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:15. He tapped his foot impatiently. He had to make sure her dreams came true. Getting married before she turned thirty was important to her and he was determined to make that happen.

Finally it was their turn and Libby practically bounced to the counter.

“We’re here for a marriage license,” Libby said, the excitement in her voice unmistakable. “We’re getting married.” She looked up at Noah with wonderment on her face, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

He knew exactly how she felt.

The clerk rolled her eyes. “Then you’re in luck. Marriage licenses are what I do here.”

They filled out the form, showed their IDs, Noah paid the fee, and then they were climbing into Paul’s cab. The clock on his dashboard read 11:22.

“We’re going to have to hurry.”

Paul looked over his shoulder, sporting a huge grin. “Don’t you worry. I never back down from a challenge. I’ll get you there with plenty of time to spare.”

“It’s okay if we don’t make it,” Libby said, leaning her head on his shoulder. “If we’re off by a few minutes, it’s okay.”

Noah turned to her and lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes. “No, it’s not. We’ll do this. We’ll make it work.”

He kissed her to show her how much he loved her, but then he realized he’d kissed countless other women. It hadn’t meant anything to him other than a prelude to getting laid. Could Libby tell the difference? He could. Just holding her hand gave him more of a thrill than he’d felt with any other woman.

“Noah?” she asked softly, and he realized he was staring at her. “You okay?”

“Never better.”

“Really?” she asked hesitantly. Her eyes were more focused. She was obviously sobering up a bit. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Was she about to change her mind? Had she agreed only because her judgment had been impaired?

“Yes.” He kissed her again, partially in desperation, and partly because he couldn’t believe he could—that she was so willing and accepting.

“We’re here,” Paul said cheerfully.

When Noah looked up, he saw they were parked in front of the Little Heaven Wedding Chapel. He fumbled with the door handle and scrambled out, pulling Libby with him. He dug out his wallet and handed the driver a handful of cash.

“Thanks for the ride. You’ve been a lifesaver.”

Noah started to turn away, but Paul called after him, “Hey! Don’t forget the dress!”

Libby gasped and wrestled the bag through the door. If they had time, he’d love to watch her try to wrangle the dress that was nearly as large as she was, but the clock was ticking, so he took it from her, grinning. “Let me wrestle with it now, you can wrestle with it after you get it on.”

There was a saucy grin on her face as she handed it to him. “Then we can wrestle it together when we get back to the room.”

The thought of taking it off her again was distracting, shuttling blood away from his brain to his other thinking appendage. But he had the rest of his life to think about taking her clothes off—now he needed to make sure they made the midnight deadline.

The rest of his life.

With every other woman, Noah had considered marriage akin to a prison sentence. He hadn’t been able to fathom committing to one woman. Until Libby. He hoped to spend the next fifty or more years with her, and he was certain it wouldn’t be long enough.

But what if he was rushing her? In the cab, she’d asked him if he was sure. He’d never asked that same question of her.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her to a halt. “Lib, wait.”

Worry flickered in her eyes.

“You asked me if I was sure, but are you sure?”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes. Very.”

“Then let’s get married.” He put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the door.

As soon as they entered the lobby she stopped in her tracks. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “You really did bring me to demonic cherub hell.”

He wasn’t going to argue with her assessment. Cherubs were everywhere. Painted on the walls, the ceilings, the doors, and even the floors. Cherub statues lined the walls and sat on pedestals. A cherub statue cheerfully peed in the pool of the fountain standing in the corner. A counter with a glass display case was on their left.

Noah gawked in horror. “Oh. My. God.”

“I guess we know why it’s called Little Heaven.”

Noah had started to turn around when a woman called out with a thick accent he couldn’t place. “You must be the couple my sweet Ned told me about. Welcome. Welcome. We have everything already prepared. I am Angelica. I hear you’re in a hurry.” She emerged from the dark hallway directly across from them and glanced down at Libby’s impossibly flat stomach. “A little one on the way? You need today’s date to match a due date?”

“What?” Libby gasped.

“No,” Noah said with more force than he’d intended. “We want to be married before Libby’s birthday. Which is tomorrow. But she needs to put on her dress. Is there somewhere she can change?”

Libby glanced around the room, pressing her back to his chest, then looked up at him with a hesitant look in her eyes.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “We don’t have to get married here.”

“We don’t have time to go anywhere else.”

She was right.

He turned her around and put his hands on her shoulders, bending at the knee so he could look her in the eyes. “I know this probably isn’t how you imagined it.” He gave her a sly grin. “But you’re probably the only woman in history to have two themed weddings. Now we’ll have plenty of material for cocktail parties when people ask us about our wedding. No boring stories for us.”

“Oh, Noah.” She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his chest. “How do you always know just what to say to make me feel better?”

He had no idea. It was probably the only thing in his life that had ever come naturally to him. Only further confirmation they were perfect for each other.

“Come, come,” Angelica said, tugging on Libby’s arm. “We must get you dressed.”

The woman snagged the bag from Noah and grabbed Libby’s arm. “I’ll get her ready,” she said, tugging Libby down a cherub-lined hall. “You pick out the extras.”

“Extras?”

The door to the dressing room closed and Noah jumped when a man’s voice sounded behind him. “Flowers. Rings. The like.” He had a deeper accent than Angelica. It sounded like a bizarre mix of Italian and the Deep South.

Noah spun to see a plump, bald man walking through a curtain behind the counter. The man tightened the sash of his white satin robe. Had he just gotten out of bed?

“I’m Tito and I’ll be happy to assist you. So what will it be?” the man asked, his voice sounding like it was on autopilot. His head bobbed as he spoke, drawing Noah’s attention to the tufts of thick chest hair peeking above the V of his robe. “We offer several flower options.” He led Noah to a refrigerator full of bouquets and boutonnieres. “What does your bride like?”

“Uh . . . nothing too fussy.” The bouquets in the case looked like the ones Megan and Blair had carried—roses and lilies in formal arrangements. That wouldn’t work. “What about those?” He pointed to a pile of flowers at the bottom. A mix of yellow daisies, pink rosebuds and some other flowers in pinks and purples covered the floor of the cooler.

“Those?” Tito shook his head, chuckling, then explained slowly as though Noah were a simpleton. “Those are the leftovers. The ones that weren’t good enough to be in bouquets.”

Didn’t that describe him and Libby? Never feeling like they were good enough? He knew these were the flowers she’d want. “We’ll take those.”

“You don’t understand,” the bald man said, enunciating each word. “Those aren’t for sale. They’re at the bottom because they were the leftovers.”

“Then why are they in the case?”

The man groaned. “Because Angelica gives them to her mother to make sachets.”

Noah gave him a blank look.

“You know, those little bags full of flower petals that stink up drawers.”

“I still want them.”

“They’re just loose.” He opened the door and snatched them up. “See? They’re not even in a bouquet.”

Noah reached around him and grabbed a roll of twine. “So just bundle them together and wrap this around them.”

The man lifted his hands in the air in defeat. “Take them if you want. You can have them for free. But your bride is going to walk out on you the minute she sees them.”

“You don’t know my Libby.” His Libby. He marveled at his words. She was his. She was actually his.

“Do you have rings?”

“Oh, shit. We don’t have anything.” No wonder Libby had been so stressed over the last month. Even if Mitch had come up with the ideas, he knew she’d organized it all. Turned out there was a whole lot more to this wedding planning gig than two willing participants.

“Not to worry.” A smug smile lit up the man’s face. “We can take care of everything.” He moved over to a glass case full of rings. “We have a nice selection of rings over here that will fit anyone’s budget. From the bare basics to the high rollers.”

Noah seriously doubted high rollers got married here unless they were drop-dead drunk. But the selection ran from simple gold and silver bands to large diamond rings that he suspected might actually be cubic zirconia.

“Let me see those.” He pointed to silver bands—his and hers. The larger band was thick and the smaller band daintier, but both were smooth silver with tiny beading at the edges.

“After the bouquet decision, I’m not surprised,” the man grumbled under his breath. “These are part of our budget selection.”

Noah had to admit the design wasn’t much, but he was certain Libby would love them. He’d get her a diamond engagement ring later . . . from a more reputable place.

The man’s gaze zoomed in on Noah’s crotch and then moved slowly up his chest and stopped at his face. “What size are you?”

Uh . . .” What the hell was he talking about? Cup size? Then it dawned on him. “I already have a tux. See? I’m wearing it.”

“Not for the tux. The ring.” He pointed to Noah’s left hand, which rested on the counter. “What size ring do you and your bride wear?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know.” Noah hadn’t bought a ring since his class ring in high school, and ring sizes had never come up in conversation with Libby.

The man rolled his eyes and reached over to grab Noah’s hand. He shoved the ring on Noah’s left ring finger.

“This is all so sudden . . .” Noah joked. “And I’m already taken.”

Tito scowled and moved the ring around on Noah’s finger. “Lucky for you, it fits perfectly. Now we’ll see if the other one fits your bride.”

“What else do I need to get?” Noah asked, glancing over his shoulder at the door and wondering what was taking her so long. He reminded himself that the dress was a monster to maneuver. They’d be lucky if they were married by midnight. But he couldn’t shake the worry that she might change her mind.

“Professional photography? Minister? Music?”

“We have to pay for music?”

The man gave Noah a look that read cheap bastard. “We have a deluxe package that will provide it all and include a few extras.”

“Fine. Yes to all of it.”

The man grinned and then turned to his cash register to total everything up. “That will be nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars.”

Noah knew he was getting screwed, but he handed over his credit card willingly enough. He’d pay a hell of a lot more than that to marry Libby. He wanted it to be perfect for her, but he reminded himself that there were demon cherubs watching their every move. “What are the extras that come with the deluxe package?”

Tito smiled as he handed Noah the receipt. “Our top-of-the-line service, including an audience.”

Noah put his credit card back in his wallet. “Wait. An audience?”

“We’re ready!” Angelica shouted from behind the door.

A sigh of relief escaped Noah’s lips and he started for the dressing room, but Tito stopped him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To see my bride.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no you aren’t. Give me that ring and march yourself inside the chapel and wait up front.”

He pulled the ring off his hand and handed it him. “But . . .”

“You don’t want to see her before she comes down the aisle.” He picked up the bouquet Noah had tied together with the twine. “I’ll give this to the bride.” He leaned to the side, partially covering his mouth. “And I’ll give you a heads-up if she takes off after seeing it.”

“Ha. Ha,” Noah mumbled, but his nerves were kicking in now that the majority of the alcohol had left his system. Libby had to be sobering up too. What if he was wrong about the flowers? What if she changed her mind about everything?

He really wanted to talk to her one last time, but as much as it killed him to admit it, Tito was right. Given how superstitious Libby tended to be, he didn’t want to press his luck by forcing his way in to see her. He pushed on the double wooden doors that bore a placard reading Holy Seraphim Chapel, took one step inside, and froze, completely unprepared for what he found there.

The chapel looked like it had been cobbled together by a drunken construction worker fired from Caesar’s Palace. They had tried to emulate European chapels with the domed ceiling, Corinthian columns, and stained glass, but on a much smaller scale. The effort had failed miserably.

The back wall was encased in an arch and a backlit stained glass window filled most of the space. It might have been pretty if not for the design. The panes were covered with the figures of grown men sporting short stubby wings and flowing fabric wrapped around their johnsons, which made them look like they were wearing diapers. Naked women surrounded them, gazing up in adoration. All the male figures were identical, as were the female figures, and to make matters worse, they had clearly been modeled after Angelica and Tito.

Oh. Fuck.

Crooked columns held up the arch and the platform floor in front of the window was painted a faux gray marble, as was the short aisle leading to the altar. The front of the room had held Noah’s attention so long he realized he’d missed the rest of the chapel. There were three arched niches on either side, all filled with concrete angels, which thankfully bore no resemblance to the two owners. The insides of the arches appeared to have been spray-painted a metallic gold.

The mural on the ceiling was composed of multiple scenes of a naked angel bearing a remarkable resemblance to Tito, although Noah was certain the artist had over-exaggerated the man’s penile girth and length. Angelica was there too, with wings this time, and there were multiple images of her and Tito in the throes of passion. One particularly memorable composition showed the two fornicating on a bench in a garden, with Tito thrusting from behind wearing a shit-eating grin.

Holy hell. Some things couldn’t be unseen.

Noah took several hesitant steps down the aisle, telling himself that Libby would probably love it. He suspected she was the only person on the planet who would.

It wasn’t until he stepped onto the small platform that he realized the back row of folding chairs was occupied by six men, most of whom appeared to have been plucked from a holding pen at the police station. One man wore a grungy knit cap and slurped from a can of Campbell’s soup, while another leaned his head against the wall, releasing a small snore.

“We’re all ready,” Angelica singsonged as she entered the chapel through the double doors, her hands pressed together at her breasts as if in prayer. “Your beautiful bride is ready. Shall we begin?”

He nodded, finding it difficult to push out a yes. His chest was so tight with nerves he could hardly breathe. He noticed a clock on the wall over the entrance, the hands in the shape of angel wings. 11:49. At least Libby hadn’t taken off yet.

Angelica glided over to a stereo system in the corner and pressed a button. Music poured into the room and the double doors swung open as if by magic.

Libby filled the doorway, Noah’s bouquet in her hands, looking more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. Their eyes locked and everything else fell away. However strange and unconventional this was, it was right. It was them.

The first lines of the song “Teen Angel” played on the speakers overhead—the original recording from the 1950s, from the sound of it.

“Oops, wrong song,” Angelica murmured, pressing a button that stopped the music. “That was from the last couple.”

Libby’s eyes widened and she held back a giggle.

God, he loved her.

Tinny piano music filled the room, reminding Noah of something from the 1980s. Then he realized it was something from the 1980s—his mother had listened to this song over and over when he was a kid. “Angel Eyes”. Was it destiny that they played his mother’s favorite song?

Angelica gave Libby an exasperated look. “Well, what are you waiting for? Tito’s about to start singing.”

Sure enough, Tito’s voice floated around them, but there was still no sign of Tito. “Girl, you’re looking fine tonight, and every guy has got you in his sight.”

Noah had no idea where Tito could be, but he didn’t care. Libby was walking toward him with a soft smile on her lips. But then she stopped halfway down the short aisle, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape.

His heart skipped a beat. Had she changed her mind?

Sensing movement behind him, he looked over his shoulder. “Oh. My. God.”

Now he dearly regretted paying for the top-of-the-line service. And to his horror, he now realized why Tito had been wearing a robe.

A hole had opened in the arched ceiling and a pair of bare, hairy legs dangled from the opening.

Tito continued to sing, putting emotion into his words as he belted out the rest of the stanza.

Noah considered grabbing Libby and running the hell out of there, but his feet were frozen as the horror continued to unfold—the lower part of Tito’s abdomen was now visible, including his fabric-draped groin.

Libby burst into hysterical laughter.

Angelica planted her hands on her hips and gave Libby a dirty look. “Shh!”

Libby covered her mouth and gave up all pretense of walking gracefully down the aisle, instead rushing over to Noah as he stepped off the platform to meet her. She grabbed his arm and whispered, “What in the hell is happening?”

“I have no fucking idea.” His gaze had found its way back to the still-emerging man. Tito’s bare chest was now visible, as was the small golden harp he held in his hands. He dropped another couple feet, then remained in place as his feet began to kick the air.

“I told you no demonic angels, Noah,” Libby whispered.

His stomach clenched and he turned to apologize, but her grin spread from ear to ear.

“Did you request this?”

“You actually think I would?” he asked in dismay.

“Asks the man who took me to see a giant hairball,” she countered in a whisper.

“Shhh!!!” Angelica hushed louder.

One of the homeless-looking guests sat up and pointed. “Hey, that man’s wearing a diaper!”

Angelica stomped her foot. “Shh!”

But Tito was too caught up in his performance to notice the commotion. He kept belting out the song as he descended, and to add gravitas to the occasion, the front of the chapel darkened and two spotlights flashed on, bathing Tito’s now visible and very hairy chest with a warm glow. As soon as his shoulders cleared the space, two wings unfurled from his back, both covered in white and silver feathers with sparkles that caught the lights. One of the wings caught on the wire holding Tito in the air, tilting him sideways. His arms flapped and his legs kicked as he hung there, suspended three feet off the ground. He released a little yelp, but almost immediately continued to sing and strum his harp.

Libby broke into giggles again, burying her face in Noah’s arm to muffle the sound.

A true showman, Tito jiggled enough to free his wing and landed gracefully on his feet. Without missing a beat, he turned his attention to Libby, crooning with even more earnestness as he repeated the chorus.

“Hey.” Another man in the back shook the snoozing guy next to him. “You gotta see this.”

The younger man roused, then blinked. “Dude, what was in that weed?”

“I don’t know, but we gotta get some more.”

“Shh!!!” Angelica snarled as she grabbed their arms and pulled both them out of their seats.

“Hey! I want to see the show,” one of them protested, but she pushed them out through the doors. The four remaining men looked startled.

“I think I should get a refund on the deluxe package,” Noah mumbled.

Libby giggled again. “Is this guy performing the ceremony?”

“Meet Tito, and I’m thinking that’s a yes.”

“Oh, my God. We’re getting married by a man wearing a diaper.”

“Nothing but the best for you, Libby St. Clair.” He grinned. “At least it’s not a skirt. And in case you’re wondering what’s underneath . . .” He motioned his head toward the ceiling.

Libby looked up and gasped, followed by a new round of giggles.

Tito finally stopped singing and cast an unamused glance at Noah and Libby. “You’ll have to come up onto the stage so I can perform the ceremony.”

Oh, crap. How much time had they lost to Tito’s theatrics? “What time is it?”

“What?” Tito asked.

“Is it midnight yet?”

“It’s 11:55,” Angelica shouted from the back of the room. “Tito still has time for another song.”

“How about Tito sings after he pronounces us husband and wife?” Noah asked, trying to curb his impatience. He took Libby’s hand and helped her onto the platform in front of Tito.

“You’re carrying the bouquet,” Tito said, scrunching his nose. “I tried to convince him to use a real one.”

Noah started to explain, but she smiled up at him. “It’s beautiful. But you don’t have a boutonniere.”

“I don’t need one, Lib.”

She gave him a short scowl. “Yes you do.”

Angelica climbed up onto the platform, taking photos with a small click and shoot camera, but from the looks of it, she was putting more of Tito in the frame than the bride and groom.

Libby ignored her and plucked a daisy from her bouquet and stuffed the stem into Noah’s coat pocket. “It’s not perfect, but it will do.”

“It fits this crazy wedding.”

She looked up at him, her face radiating happiness. “It fits us.”

He beamed with his own happiness. “Yeah, it does.”

“Are you ready for the vows?” Tito asked, sounding annoyed. “I have a beautiful service prepared for you.”

“I’m kind of curious what he’s got,” she whispered to Noah.

“Then by all means, let’s do it.”

Libby bit her upper lip, probably to hold in her laughter. “Yes, we’re ready for the vows. But can we do our own after?”

“Well, I guess.” Tito sounded miffed, but he lifted his chin. He leaned over and set the harp on the floor. “Angelica. The vows lighting.”

Angelica had been moving around getting photos, but now she hurried to the back corner.

Tito was still spotlit in his golden glow, but two softer spotlights now shone on the floor in front of him. He curled his fingers and motioned for Libby and Noah to move to their positions.

“I feel like I’m in the plot of a horror movie,” Noah muttered. “And it doesn’t end well.”

Libby burst out laughing again.

Tito’s forehead furrowed into a deep frown, but he took a deep breath and lifted his hands at his sides, holding his arms horizontal to the ground, palms up. A light shot out from behind him, putting him in silhouette as a bright light surrounded him. He closed his eyes. “And lo, I descend from above to join you two in holy matrimony.”

Libby grabbed Noah’s hand and held tight.

“Do you Elizabeth . . . uh . . .” He pulled the top of his loincloth away from his stomach and looked inside.

Noah leaned close to her and whispered, “If he takes that thing off, I’m leaving, Lib.”

She lifted her hand to her mouth and bit the side of her index finger. “Deal.”

Tito looked up and cleared his throat before returning his arms to their previous positions. “Do you, Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair, take this man, Noah Michael McMillan, to be your husband?”

She looked up into Noah’s face, her eyes dancing. “I do.”

“To have and to hold in the angel’s glowing light?”

She took a deep breath, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. “I do.”

“Will you stand by his side until his aura fades?”

She grinned. “I will.”

“Will you let his wings spread wide so that he can take flight?”

She tilted her head and gave Noah a mischievous grin. “It depends on where he’s flying off to.”

Tito’s head jutted back in surprise. “Oh.”

“I’ll take it,” Noah said, squeezing her hand. “I’m not planning to fly anywhere without her.”

Tito looked confused by the alteration to his vows.

“Noah Michael McMillan, do you take Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair to be your wife?”

The words filled him with more hope and joy than he thought possible. “I do.”

“To have and to hold in the angel’s glowing light?”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. God, he loved her. He never suspected he could ever love anyone this much. “I do.”

“Will you stand by her side until her aura fades?”

He shook his head, lifting his hand to cup her cheek. “Her aura will never fade. Impossible.”

Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him with unabashed love. “Oh, Noah.”

“Um . . . okay . . .” Tito fumbled, clearly unsure what to do.

“I’ve got this, Tito.” Noah reached for Libby’s hands and held them gently in front of him. “Libby, I’m so grateful Josh tricked Megan into letting him be her fiancé.”

Tito’s eyes widened. “Huh?”

“If he hadn’t tried to steal information about her father’s business, we might never have met.”

Tito’s eyes widened even wider.

“I’ve had more fun with you in the last five months than in the previous four hundred and ten combined. But more importantly, I’ve found my best friend. You make me a better man, Libby St. Clair, and I can’t wait start our lives together in Seattle—you, me, and Tortoise.”

She smiled up at him, tears in her eyes. “Noah, you’ve been there for me when everyone else almost gave up on me. Thank you for the last two days, which were exactly what I needed. You’re the only one who’s ever really understood me. But more importantly, you’re the only person in this world I can completely trust. Thank you.”

“Oh, Lib.” He brushed away a tear. “I promise I’ll never let you down.”

“I’m counting on that.”

Tito studied them for a moment and shrugged, then picked up his harp. “The rings.”

Noah tilted his head and grinned. “If he pulls them out of his diaper,” he whispered into her ear, “I’m not using them.”

“We have rings?”

Tito began strumming an unrecognizable tune on the harp, then said in a theatrical voice, “Release the doves.”

Angelica opened a small cabinet door on the wall and two white birds flew out and swooped around the room.

Noah’s mouth dropped open. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Libby started laughing again. “It’s perfect!”

“Hey!” one of the men in the back shouted. “It pooped on me!”

The birds swooped around the room a few times before finally landing on the top of Tito’s harp, the rings dangling from their feet with strings.

“Come get your rings,” Tito said, nodding toward the doves as he continued playing the instrument.

“Is now a bad time to mention I hate birds?” Noah grumbled, inching his way forward.

“I’ll do it,” Libby said as she stepped around him, slowly reaching for the string on the first dove. She handed Noah the ring—hers—then untied the other ring and moved back in front of him.

The back doors burst open, spilling light into the darkened chapel, and Noah wondered what Tito and Angelica could possibly have planned next. Startled, the birds went crazy, flapping their wings and taking off into flight, swooping over their heads.

Noah put a protective arm around Libby and pulled her to his chest, but then he realized the two older women standing in the doorway had nothing to do with the Little Heaven Wedding Chapel deluxe package.

“Sweet baby Jesus!” Gram shouted.

“No,” Nana Ruby said in disgust. “That’s not Jesus. It’s just a hairy man in a diaper.”

Tito stopped strumming and shot them a glare. “I’m sorry, but we’re in the middle of a service. Feel free to sit and watch or wait in the lobby, and we can marry you next.”

Ruby snorted. “He thinks we’re getting married.”

Gram chuckled. “You’ve got it wrong there, Mr. Diaper Man. She’s got herself a man who’s into BMI, and I’m on the prowl.” She paused and took in the mural on the ceiling. “Although I may have found him.” She turned back and appraised Tito with a gleam in her eye. “Is this one of those Costco things? I didn’t know you kids were into that.”

Noah burst into laughter. “I think you mean cosplay, Gram. And we’re not. This is everything that comes with the deluxe package.”

Gram nodded as though that explained everything.

Tito shuddered and looked down his nose at Noah, which was difficult since Tito was a good six inches shorter. “You know these women?”

“They’re our grandmothers,” Libby explained with a shrug. “Kind of.”

Tito waved them forward. “Then come in and sit down. We’re in the middle of their vows.”

“Wait!” Libby said, holding up her bouquet. “You’re not here to object to the wedding, are you?”

“Object?” Gram asked in disbelief. “Why would we object? I’ve been shipping you two since you first laid eyes on each other.”

“And I could see your connection at Blair’s wedding shower for my sorry excuse for a grandson, Neil,” Ruby added. “Let’s get this going.”

The two women sat down as Tito lifted his arms and stared up at the hole in the ceiling. “Let us resume.”

“What time is it?” Noah asked.

Nana Ruby looked at her watch. “Eleven fifty-nine.”

Noah grabbed Libby’s hand and shoved the ring on her finger. “Lib, if you don’t like this, we can get you a new one.” Then he held his hand out to her and she slipped the other ring on his finger.

“It’s perfect.”

Noah turned to the shocked Tito. “Quick. Declare us man and wife.”

Tito looked dismayed. “But we have more service first. We haven’t gotten to the dancing angels yet.”

Libby’s mouth dropped open. “Dancing angels?”

“Maybe later!” Noah shouted. “Declare us man and wife!”

Tito shook his head. “Okay, I declare you man and wife, you may—”

Noah pulled Libby into his arms and placed a hard kiss on her mouth.

“—kiss your bride,” he finished in defeat. “You ruined the wedding.”

Libby pulled back and stared into Noah’s face. “No, it was the most perfect wedding ever.”

Chapter Twenty

“We did it,” Noah said beaming. “Happy Birthday, Libby.”

She stared into the face of her husband. Noah’s my husband. “I can’t believe we did it.”

Worry wrinkled his forehead. “Are you sorry?”

Their decision had been impulsive. They’d made it while they were drunk. Noah hadn’t even said the words I love you, yet she knew he did, just as she knew they hadn’t made a mistake.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Say cheese!” Gram said, holding up her phone.

Tito stood behind them, posing with his harp as Gram and Angelica snapped photos.

“We need a picture with you and Nana Ruby,” Libby told them. “Angelica, can you take a photo of all us?”

“Photos are included in the deluxe package,” Noah said, when Angelica started to balk.

“Come on, Gram,” Noah said.

“I gotta send this tweet first.” She tapped on her phone and looked up at them with a grin. “Done.”

They spent the next five minutes taking photos. Libby insisted the paid wedding guests be in the photos and Noah found the two men who’d been kicked out, sitting on the floor of the front room, and invited them back in.

Tito took center stage for all the photos. One of the men kept grabbing at Tito’s loincloth and the pseudo angel kept smacking his hand away. Libby giggled through it all, wondering how everything could be so perfect.

Then just as Noah predicted, a bright light shone from the hole in the ceiling and Tito rose back up into the air, his wing catching on the edge of the hole.

“Angelica! Lower me back down!”

Angelica kept pushing a button on the wall by the stereo system. “It’s stuck.”

Noah ushered the three women toward the exit, snagging Libby’s hand in his as they moved. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Tito!” Angelica cried out, hurrying toward the platform. “I’ll get the ladder, baby.”

“How’d you two get here?” Libby asked the grandmothers after they’d made it into the lobby.

“We took a taxi,” Nana Ruby said, covering her mouth as she yawned. “It’s waiting for us outside, and I think I need to get back and go to bed. I haven’t been up this late since Nixon was in the White House.”

Gram curled her upper lip. “That’s a crock of bullshit and you know it. You were up late on that cruise you went on last summer. The one with the used tire salesmen convention.”

Nana threw up her hands in exasperation. “That was one night—one night—and I was drunk, besides.” She leaned closer to Gram. “And when I told you last week, you said you’d carry it to your grave.”

“I haven’t given up anything, you old fool. You’ve given yourself up.”

“Never mind.” Nana released a huge groan. “Maude. It’s time for both of us to go back and go to bed.”

Gram didn’t look pleased. “I wanted to take Noah and Libby out for their wedding dinner. And wedding cake.”

“I suspect they have other things on their mind,” Nana said with a sly grin. “Especially after what Noah told us earlier.”

Libby swung her gaze up to her new husband. “What did you tell them?”

Noah gave the two women a small shove toward the front door. “Thanks for coming to the wedding and I’m sorry about the dinner reservation. Let’s try it again tomorrow night. Say around eight?”

They nodded as they hurried into their waiting taxi, Gram pausing to shout, “You kids have fun.”

Noah and Libby stood outside Little Heaven, still holding hands. She glanced up at him, surprised to see he was staring back at her with a look of amazement on his face.

“What?” she asked, feeling self-conscience.

He slowly pulled her into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

A slow smile spread across her face as warmth filled her chest.

He kissed her, but this time it wasn’t full of fire and passion. It was soft and gentle, like a welcome home. Tears burned her eyes and she smiled up at him. “Let’s go back to the hotel, Noah.”

He nodded and was about to flag down a taxi when Paul, the cab driver who’d brought them there, pulled up to the curb.

He leaned across the front seat and looked up at them through the passenger window. “I figured you two would need a ride after you got hitched.”

“Thanks,” Noah said as he opened the back door for Libby. He gathered up her skirts and helped her into the car. Then he settled in beside her and took her hand.

“Where to?”

“Caesar’s Palace.”

“Sure thing.” Paul glanced at them in the rearview mirror as he started toward the hotel. “Did you get the big show?”

Noah laughed. “Yeah, I got the deluxe package.” He tilted his head with an amused gleam in his eyes. “You could have warned us.”

“And spoil the surprise? Nah . . . But I’m surprised Tito and Angelica didn’t see you off. Tito likes to walk couples to the curb, strumming his harp.”

Libby broke into giggles. “Tito was a little stuck when we left.”

“Tried to go back up in the ceiling, huh?” He shook his head in sympathy. “He hasn’t got that one perfected yet.”

Paul pulled up in front of the lobby and the parking attendant, Ned, greeted them and opened their door. “Did you go to Little Heaven?”

“We sure did,” Noah said as he helped Libby out of the back.

“It was a wedding you’ll never forget, am I right?” he asked.

“Not even when we’re old and senile.” Noah grinned and leaned over to pay the cab driver.

“Good luck!” Paul said, sliding over in his seat and poking his head out the passenger window. “Getting hitched is the easy part, staying hitched takes work. But I’ve been married to my Annie for nearly forty years and I wouldn’t trade a single day for all the money in the world.”

“Thank you,” Libby said, giving him a small wave.

“What room are you kids in?” Ned asked as a group of three women climbed into Paul’s cab. “We’ll send up a little congratulatory gift.”

Noah took Libby’s hand as he gave him the number.

Ned winked and sent them off with more good wishes.

They didn’t say a word as they walked into the hotel lobby, although Libby’s dress drew quite a bit of attention. She realized she was still holding the bouquet, so she lifted it and motioned as if to throw it. A group of women saw her and started squealing with excitement as they formed a group. Laughing, Libby turned her back to them and threw the flowers over her shoulder.

“I got it again!” Gram shouted.

A collective groan echoed inside the marbled foyer.

Libby spun around to see the older woman lift the bouquet over her head like she was a champion boxer. “How . . . ?”

Noah laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “She and Nana Ruby walked in the door just as you threw it. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” He called over to the two women. “Maybe you really are destined to get married in Vegas, Gram!”

Libby had to wonder if Noah might be right. “Congrats, Gram! I can’t wait to meet your groom.”

Nana Ruby scowled. “Don’t encourage her.”

The two grandmothers wandered off in the opposite direction, which was probably for the best considering several of the younger women in the crowd looked like they wanted to tackle Gram.

They walked to the elevator in silence—the only sounds around them were the voices of the people passing by and the swish of her skirt. A sudden sense of dread filled Libby as she thought about the taxi driver’s words. To her horror, she realized he was right. She’d spent so much time thinking about getting married, she hadn’t stopped to consider marriages could be ended. They might be married now, but he wasn’t permanently attached to her. He could walk away at any time.

Blair and Garrett’s profession was proof enough of that.

Noah’s hand squeezed hers. “Lib, you okay?”

The elevator door opened and she was surprised to find an empty car. They walked inside and she kept her gaze on the doors as they closed, her stomach tying into knots.

“Lib, talk to me.” The anxiety in his voice caught her by surprise.

What should she tell him? That she was still scared to lose him? Did she really want to sound so pathetic on their wedding night?

She put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes, searching for answers to the questions she was too scared to ask. She lifted up to kiss him and he covered her hand with his.

“Lib?” He was more insistent this time, and his face was pinched with worry.

“I just can’t believe you’re mine,” she repeated his words. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her so senseless that it took her several moments to realize the doors had opened and an older couple was waiting to get into the car.

“Sorry,” Libby said as Noah pulled her to the side.

He grinned down at her. “I’m not,” he whispered.

She smiled back. This was Noah. Her Noah. She knew they were perfect for each other—that she couldn’t find a man who would suit her better.

Even if her own palm told her differently.

Sometime between Megan and Blair’s weddings, she’d fallen in love with him. She’d been too foolish and scared to admit it to herself, but some part of her had known for a while.

Now that the curse had worked out after all, should she worry about the destiny on her palm? Was their marriage already destined to fail?

The elevator stopped at their floor and Noah tugged her off the car and toward their room.

She had a choice—she could let her worries consume her and ruin their night, or she could let it go and consummate her marriage to the man she’d never thought she could have.

She chose to celebrate her new life.

Noah held the door open with his foot, and with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he bent down and swooped her up into his arms.

“Noah!” she squealed, laughing. “You’re going to break your back!”

“Not a chance.” He grinned, looking down. “The bigger threat is me tripping on your dress and crushing you.”

She pulled up the fabric and shot him a wicked look of her own. “I prefer to have you on top of me in bed.”

The intensity of his kiss caught her by surprise. So much so she barely noticed Noah swinging the door shut behind them and lowering her until her feet touched the floor. Her arms still clung to his neck and he pulled her so close she couldn’t catch her breath.

She dropped her hands and unbuttoned his jacket, spreading her palms across his chest, the cotton of his shirt rough under her fingertips. She wanted to feel his bare skin. She wanted to taste it. She wanted to feel it pressed against her own naked body.

He groped at the rise of her ass and she realized he was fumbling with the lacings of her dress. He cursed under his breath and she couldn’t help laughing.

“You’ll never get it like that.” She turned around and presented her back to him. “It’ll go faster if you can see what you’re doing.”

He paused for a moment, then she felt his hands at her lower back. “You and this dress are going to be the death of me, Libby St. Clair. I’ll die from oxygen deprivation because all the blood that goes to my brain has gone somewhere else.”

“Maybe it’s Libby McMillan now.”

“Not helping,” he grunted as he turned her around and kissed her again. One of his hands cradled the side of her face as the other worked on the strings at the base of her spine.

She pulled back, grinning. “Who knew changing my name would make you so happy.”

“You can keep St. Clair if you want, but I have to admit I like the idea of you taking McMillan.”

“Why?”

“Because it would be just one more piece of proof that you’re mine.”

She gave him a gentle kiss and then spun around to show him her back. “Let’s get this off so you can see more proof of what’s yours.”

He sucked in a breath, and within moments his hands were at her ass again, tugging on the strings, but he moved slower than she expected. She was about to ask why when he bent down and placed a kiss over the skin exposed by the loosened dress.

It was her turn to suck in a breath of surprise as he continued to loosen the laces, his mouth following the trail. When it was halfway up her back, he stood and slipped his hand into her dress, reaching around to her abdomen, his fingers light on her skin. The tips skimmed down to the top of her panties, making slow circles, before dipping slightly underneath the lacy fabric and rising back up to her stomach.

“I think you’re trying to kill me now,” she murmured, her eyes closed.

“No dying yet,” he said, his tongue tracing circles on her back. He rose and his mouth found the base of her neck and moved up to her ear. His one hand was still inside her dress, but the other had abandoned its task of loosening her lacings. The hand in her dress rose to the underside of her breasts, as high as the fabric would allow. He blew cool air below her jaw, then licked and kissed the spot.

“Noah.”

“I’ve studied this spot for months, did you know that?” His voice was rough-edged with desire. “When you wore your hair up this summer, I wanted to lean over and taste it. And now I can.”

“You can taste a lot more if you get this dress off of me.”

His hand stilled under her breast, then moved to her breastbone and slowly slid down over her belly button, continuing its descent over her panties and between her legs. His mouth concentrated on her neck, finding the spot that made her squirm as his fingers concentrated on gently stroking the cleft between her legs.

She gasped. Intense heat spread throughout her body, burning hottest between her legs. Her knees weakened and his free arm circled around her front and cupped her breast, his thumb brushing her nipple over the fabric of her dress. His mouth stilled.

“You’re not wearing a bra.”

“I didn’t have one,” she gasped while his fingers between her legs focused on the spot that drove her crazy. “My black dress . . . the front . . . I couldn’t wear one.” Something in the back of her head reminded her that she’d left the dress at the wedding chapel, but she didn’t care. She had more important things to worry about.

The hand between her legs slipped inside her panties and she moaned at the direct contact.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured against her neck.

Rather than answer, she reached behind her and found his erection, rubbing the heel of her hand over the zipper of his pants.

He pressed himself against her and released his own moan.

She fumbled with his zipper and then the button on his pants, finding it hard to concentrate with the sweet torture his hands were performing.

“Noah. Dress. Now,” she panted as she climbed higher.

“Not yet. I rather like making you squirm.”

“So you’re a sadist,” she teased. “Maybe this should have come up before the wedding.”

“No. I just like knowing I can make you so wet.” His finger slipped inside her as though to prove his point.

She gasped again. “I don’t want to come on your hand. I want you inside me.”

“You can come over and over again tonight, Lib.” His teeth nibbled on her earlobe. “I’ll make you come as many times as you want.”

His words turned her on even more. “Not the first time.” She moaned as his finger moved in and out of her, the heel of his hand pressing against her mound. “I want you inside me the first time I come with you. I want you to make love to me.”

His hands stilled and his mouth stopped. For a moment she worried she’d somehow offended him, but then he pulled his hand out of her dress and gently turned her to face him, and the adoration and love in his eyes was undeniable. He cradled her face with both hands and kissed her, his thumbs brushing her cheeks.

The love in his eyes, in his touch, was nearly her undoing. This seemed like a dream. She was married to Noah. He was hers. She clung to him, worried she’d lose this perfect moment with him, worried she’d lose him. That he’d come to his senses and realize this was all a terrible mistake.

His hands glided down her neck and over the thin lace on her shoulders, and then reached behind her and started loosening the laces, all while they continued the kiss, his tongue performing a slow dance with hers. Suddenly she felt cool air hit her naked back as he pulled down the dress to expose her shoulders, but it stopped at her upper arms.

He lifted his head to look down at her. “You have to let go, Lib.”

She hadn’t realized she was clinging so tightly to him, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

He cupped her cheek and whispered, “Trust me.”

But he wasn’t just talking about what they were doing physically. He was asking her to hand him her heart.

He reached up and pulled her hands down, kissing her knuckles and skimming kisses over her wedding ring. Then he lowered her arms to her sides and continued the task of undressing her. He was slow and precise, lowering the dress a few inches at a time, pausing to place kisses on her shoulders, her collarbones, over the swell of her breasts, in the valley of her cleavage. She watched him until she was lost in sensation, closing her eyes so she could enjoy the feeling of him worshipping her.

The edge of the dress brushed over her bare nipples, making them even more erect. Then his mouth found one and his fingers teased the other. She moaned, tangling her hands in his hair.

The dress lowered to her waist, his mouth following, then over her hips. After it fell to the floor, leaving her in a puddle of silk and crinoline, his mouth continued its descent, placing kisses over the band of her panties. He rubbed his chin over her mound and she moaned again. Need coursed through her, stronger than she’d ever experienced it.

He rose and stood in front of her, and as they stared in each other’s eyes, his hands reached behind her and started pulling pins from her hair.

“God, Libby. You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he removed the last pin and her hair tumbled down her back. “I love your hair up, so I can see your sexy neck, but right now I want it down.” He kissed her again, still gentle but more insistent than before.

She realized she was completely undressed except for her panties and her heels, while Noah was still completely clothed. She reached inside his jacket and pushed it over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Breaking free from his kiss, she looked into his dark eyes as they watched her—the expression in them turning her on even more. She was surprised her fingers made quick work of his bow tie, letting it hang loose as she quickly freed his buttons and pulled the shirt free of his pants. She slid her hands inside his open shirt, placing kisses over his chest and the trail of hair leading to the top of his pants. His chest and abdomen were even more gorgeous than she’d imagined. Her hand followed behind her kisses, partially satisfying her need to touch as much of him as possible.

She looked up at him, her breath coming in shallow pants at the hunger and lust in his eyes.

His zipper was undone, so she turned her attention to the still-fastened button. Once it was free, she knelt in front of him and tucked her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs. She slowly slid the fabric of his pants and briefs down over his sexy hipbones, her fingers gliding over his skin. His underwear slid down his erection, and she left open-mouth kisses over his shaft as she made her way down to his scrotum.

When his pants dropped to his ankles, he reached over and put his hands under her arms, pulling her up, her bare chest against his.

His hands were everywhere as he kissed her with a hunger she answered. Then they were on the bed and his mouth and hands were driving her to the brink of madness. He grunted and rolled off her, then practically ran to his suitcase to pull a condom out of his toiletry bag.

When he sank down next to her on the bed, she took it from him and quickly opened the package and rolled it over his shaft, taking him in her hand and stroking. He grunted again and rolled her onto her back, moving over her as he grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his back and plunged into her with one stroke. She cried out in pleasure, arching up to take him. He looked down at her as he took her higher and higher, the hunger in his eyes lifting her even more. They met each other stroke for stroke, a frenzy of passion and fire, need and hunger, until she was sure if she climbed any higher she would pass out from the lack of oxygen. And then she fell apart, letting her love and her need for him overcome her, vaguely aware that he had found his own release. She called his name as she came, wave after wave carrying her somewhere she’d never been before and had never thought she’d ever find.

Home.

Chapter Twenty-One

He stared down at his wife in amazement.

His wife.

Her gorgeous dark hair lay in a puddle on the pillow behind her head. Her eyes were closed as she caught her breath, but they fluttered open to reveal the rich dark brown pools he loved to stare into.

She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. And she was his. His chest burst with emotion. “That was . . .” How did he describe the most perfect moment he had ever experienced? “I’ve never . . .”

She smiled. “Me too.”

“I love you.” How was it he hadn’t told her yet?

Tears filled her eyes. “I love you too.”

“It seems a little backward to tell you that now.”

She didn’t respond, only watched him with hesitation in her eyes.

“I love you, Libby McMillan. When I told you I’d only been in love once, I was referring to you. I’ve loved you for months. I was just too stupid to see it.”

She lowered her gaze for a moment before her eyes found his again. “I knew it too, deep down, but I was so afraid to lose you if it didn’t work out.”

He shook his head and gave her a soft smile. “You don’t have to worry anymore, Lib. I’m here. I’m yours.”

A shadow of doubt crossed her face, but before he could ask her about it, there was a banging on the door. “That must be whatever Ned was sending up.”

She continued to smile, but something was off in her eyes.

“Lib?”

The pounding continued and she pushed his chest. “You better get that.”

“No. What’s going on inside your head?”

“I’m fine,” she sighed with a soft smile. “I’m just overwhelmed. I never knew it could be so . . . perfect.”

He felt the same way, but he couldn’t help thinking there was something she wasn’t telling him.

“Go.”

He pulled out of her and grabbed his briefs. After throwing the condom in the trash and pulling on his briefs, he opened the door.

“A special gift for you and your bride, Mr. McMillan,” the employee outside his door said. His hand rested on the handle of a room service cart that held a covered plate, a silver bucket with a bottle of champagne, and two champagne flutes. “Although I can see you’ve already gotten started.”

The man started to push the cart into the room, but Noah blocked his path, saying with more force than he intended, “I’ll take it from here.” There was no way this man was coming into the room where Libby lay naked in their bed.

The employee snickered and Noah had an unexpected urge to throttle him, though he had no idea where in the hell that feeling had come from. But he realized it was just another manifestation of his need to protect her from every possible threat, realistic or not. Still, this pervert would have to come through him first to get to her.

The employee had the good judgment to relinquish the cart. “Just set it outside your door when you’re done, Mr. McMillan.”

“Thanks.”

He rolled the cart into the room and stopped short when he saw Libby sitting upright, her legs curled to the side . . . completely naked.

He realized he probably looked like a fool staring at her like that, but not finding it in him to care. “You’re so gorgeous, Libby.”

“You’re not so bad yourself. If they’d sent a woman up with that tray, the sight of those abs and pecs would have melted her.”

“You didn’t melt,” he reminded her.

“Ha! Only because you were already holding me up.” Her gaze moved to the cart.

“More champagne?” she asked with a laugh. “If we tour the country with my wedding dress, we’ll get all the champagne we want.”

“I’ll get you champagne every day if you want it.”

She laughed again and he reveled in the knowledge he’d get to hear it every day for the rest of his life. “We need to make a toast.”

He grabbed the bottle and started working on the wrapper and the cork. “As long as we aren’t toasting to you not kicking me in either of my balls, I’m all for it.” The cork popped off and he held the bottle over the cart in case it spilled out.

Her laughter filled the room and his heart and in that moment he was absolutely certain this was what he’d been waiting for his entire life. Her. “So . . .” he said with a sly grin as he poured a glass and handed it to her. “About those delusions of grandeur you mentioned . . .”

She took the glass. “Are you referring to the foot-long remark at the hotel in Junction City or the little shake insult in the bathroom at the Golden Cowboy Café?”

He poured himself a glass and she patted the mattress next to her. He sat down next to her and leaned in for a kiss. “Both.”

A sparkle filled her eyes. “Let’s just say I have nothing to be disappointed about.”

He held up his glass, his heart filled with more happiness than he knew he deserved.

She lifted her glass to his. “It only seems appropriate that we toast your manhood.”

He burst out laughing, nearly spilling the champagne.

“It’s not nearly as huge as Tito’s but . . . Hey.” She shrugged. “It’s no small thing.” She winked and he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her, deep and passionate. Then she leaned back and hoisted her glass. “It’s not officially a toast until we drink the champagne, you know?”

“Then by all means, let’s finish the toast.” But she didn’t drink when he did. He didn’t have time to ask her about it because she slowly straddled his lap and took the flute from his hand and set it on the nightstand.

He got hard again in an instant and a Cheshire cat grin spread across her face.

“I thought you said we needed to drink the champagne for the toast to be complete?”

She lifted a delicate eyebrow. “Oh, I intend to drink it.” She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him back on the bed while she still straddled his legs.

His heartbeat ratcheted up and his breath became shallow as he anticipated what she might be planning. She held her glass over his abdomen and poured a small dribble of the cold liquid on his chest, making him suck in his breath as it spread across the hollows of the muscles of his abdomen.

Libby leaned over and pressed her mouth to his stomach, licking and sucking up the liquid.

“So we’ve completed the toast?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Oh, no,” she purred, her mouth continuing its task. “We’re drinking to your manhood, remember?” She sat up and poured more champagne on his erection, then set the glass on the table. His erection jolted in response as her lips covered the head and took him into her mouth.

“Oh God, Lib.” He grabbed handfuls of her hair as her tongue and lips sucked and licked, her hand cupping his balls. Within half a minute he was dangerously close to coming again. “My turn.”

He pulled her off him and rolled her onto her back in one fluid movement. Laughing, she started to sit up, but he pushed her back down and knelt between her legs. After picking up his flute of champagne, he poured the liquid on her right breast, letting it dribble down to the hollow of her cleavage.

She gasped and her nipple hardened the instant before his mouth covered it, licking and nipping. She moaned as he licked the sticky liquid down to the pool.

“If we’re toasting my manhood, we need to toast your glorious breasts.”

She smiled. “They’re glorious, are they?”

“You have no idea, do you?” He poured more champagne on the left nipple, his erection throbbing as her nipple pebbled. His tongue lapped at the pool between her breasts and then worked its way up the peak to her nipple. “They’re perfect. Not too small, not too big. They fit in my hand with a little bit left over. They’re soft.” His lips skimmed her creamy skin. “And they are so responsive.” He took her nipple between his teeth and she gasped, her hips lifting on the bed.

“Your observation is based on very little hands-on experience,” she teased as his mouth worked its way down the crest.

“How many times do you have to look upon a beautiful painting to know it’s glorious?” he asked in mock disbelief. “You see it and you know. Your breasts are exactly the same. Perfection brought to life. If I could sculpt, I’d make a statue of your beautiful breasts. Now I have a lifetime to enjoy their perfection.”

He leaned up and kissed her, the taste of champagne on both their lips. She pushed on his shoulders to sit up, but he guided her back down.

“I’m not done toasting yet.”

“I don’t see how you could toast my breasts any more than you have.”

His eyebrows rose playfully. “It’s not your breasts I’m toasting this time.”

Her eyes darkened with desire and anticipation as he picked up the flute and slid down her body. He held the glass over the V of her legs and released a slow drizzle, watching as the trickle flowed over her folds and then leaning down to clean it up with his mouth.

“Noah.”

He looked up at her, his erection getting harder at the sight of her—her head thrown back, her fists gripping the pillow beneath her head, her nipples peaked on her full breasts. He brought her to the edge of an orgasm before she pulled him up and rolled him over onto his back.

“Condom?” she asked breathlessly.

“My toiletries bag,” he answered just as breathlessly.

She left him to get the bag, and it seemed like an eternity before she straddled his legs and ripped open the package. “You need to be more prepared, Noah McMillan. This is your last one.”

“Jesus,” he mumbled in panic. “That will never do.”

She rolled it on him, poised over him. “No. It won’t.” Then she lowered down and took the length of him inside her, moving slowly and purposely, the evil grin on her face telling him that she intended to torture him.

He sat up and scooted them to the edge of the bed. He cupped her delicious ass and lifted her up before bringing her firmly down on top of him again. “I want to kiss this next time. Your ass and so many other places.”

“Yes, next time,” she murmured, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, as she rode him, her movements letting him know she was close to coming. He was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life—his Libby, unhinged and wild, taking what she wanted from him. Then she released a cry and moaned his name as her fingers dug into his shoulders and her climax washed over her. He pulled her close and she sagged against him, her forehead resting against his.

He kissed her, gently, softly. Wanting to show her how much he loved her. Adored her. Worshiped her.

He scooted backward on the bed, still inside her as he rolled her onto her back. Moving in and out, slowly . . . all the way in and nearly all the way out, again and again.

He reached his hand between her legs, rubbing her. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?”

“As much as I want you?” Her breath hitched, her eyes on his.

Her words triggered something inside him, unleashing a tidal wave of passion and desire.

She locked her legs behind his back as he pounded into her with an intensity that caught him by surprise. Worried he was hurting her, he slowed down.

“Don’t . . . stop!” she gasped out.

Instinct took over and he lifted her hips to drive deeper, inflamed by the feeling of her tightening around him.

She cried out and lifted her hips to take him as deep as she could. No longer able to hold back, Noah came hard and fast. After he caught his breath, he rolled her to her side, facing him.

“You’re going to kill me,” she murmured, her eyes closed.

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and finally placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. “You are everything I could have ever hoped for.”

“I love you,” she whispered, drifting off to sleep.

Noah held her in his arms, overcome by the knowledge that he had never fathomed what love could be like until he’d held this woman in his arms.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Libby awoke on her side, Noah’s stomach pressed to her back. Their nakedness was proof enough that last night hadn’t been a dream.

She was married to Noah. Never in her wildest dreams could she hope to have what she’d shared with him last night. And this was only the beginning of so much more.

She shifted and freed her left arm from underneath his, wanting a better look at the wedding ring.

“We can get you another if you don’t like it,” he murmured, sounding like his mouth was buried in his pillow.

“I love it. It’s perfect. What does yours look like?”

He placed his left palm on top of hers and splayed his fingers so she could see their rings together. “They match.”

“I never took you as a matchy-matchy guy,” she teased.

“Ordinarily I’m not, so don’t expect me to wear matching T-shirts.”

“How about wearing matching shirts with Tortoise?”

“Maybe . . .”

“What about matching Halloween costumes? We can go as Fred and Wilma Flintstone.”

“Only if I get to be Wilma.”

She laughed and rolled over to face him as he propped himself on his elbow to look at her. “Good morning, Mrs. McMillan.”

Happiness flooded her heart. “Good morning, Mr. McMillan.” Then she covered her mouth. “Oh, God. I have morning breath.”

He pulled her hand down. “So do I.” He kissed her, making her forget all about morning breath.

When he lifted his head, she grinned. “Does this mean I can use your toothbrush now?”

“No.”

“We’ve done much more intimate things that have involved the exchange of just as many germs as me using your toothbrush,” she said in a sultry voice.

“Enough of your vixen ways,” he chuckled. “You’re tempting me when you know we’re out of condoms.”

She turned serious. “We don’t have to use a condom, Noah. I have an IUD. I was with Mitch for five months and no one at all for three months before him.”

He shook his head. “I want to get tested first to be safe. I’d never forgive myself if I have something and gave it to you.”

“Have you really been with that many women?”

Some of the happiness left his eyes. “Yes. I’m not proud of it, but I realize now I was searching for this—for what we have. Only I went about it the wrong way. Not one of those women meant even a fraction of what you mean to me.”

“What about Donna?”

He brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “Donna was a very poor substitute for what I thought I couldn’t have. You.”

“But why were you so sure you couldn’t have me?”

“You shot me down, Lib. Remember? Right before you proposed to Mitch.”

Her face grew hot. “We had both been drinking and I thought . . .”

“That I was just hitting on you. Yeah, I know. To be fair, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing. Only that I craved you in a way I didn’t understand.” He tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Honestly, if we had hooked up then, I don’t think it would be this. What we have now. I wasn’t ready yet. Does that make sense?”

“Perfectly. I don’t think I was ready yet either. You’ve inspired me.”

He laughed. “Are you going to photograph me naked?”

“That’s not what I was talking about, but hold that thought.” She climbed out of bed and dug through the bag Gram had brought her, emerging with her camera bag.

His eyes widened. “You’re serious.”

She unpacked the camera and gave him a mischievous grin. “We can swaddle you like Tito if you’d like.”

“No fucking way.”

She laughed again and attached a lens. “I won’t take photos of your celebrated manhood . . . or at least not many photos. After all, we’ve toasted it, so we should capture it in its glory. But those will be just for me.”

“Does that mean I get to photograph your breasts?”

She shrugged. “If you’d like.”

“You’re serious?” he asked in disbelief as he rolled onto his back.

“They’re only breasts. It’s not like you’re going to show them around to all your buddies, are you?”

“God, no. I don’t share well.”

She flashed him another grin as she stood up and moved to the window. Bright daylight flooded the room when she pulled the drapery to one side. She turned to study him. “I knew the morning light would work well with your angles.”

“Is that photographer dirty talk? Because it’s working.”

“Be a good boy and I’ll tell you all about ISO speeds.”

“I knew it was dirty talk. You’ve given me a hard-on.”

She snorted. “You already had one.”

“It doesn’t take much. All I have to do is think of you.”

“Down boy. No condoms. Remember?”

“It’s all I can think about.”

She laughed. “Roll onto your side and prop up on your elbow. Yes. Just like that.”

He held the pose, looking up at her. “Libby, my manhood’s hanging out in all its glory.”

She held up her camera to frame the shot. “Your manhood’s not in the photo. I’ll let you know when it is.”

For the next twenty minutes she had him pose in multiple positions. With each shot, she got more and more excited. After she and Noah had had their disagreement over her engagement, she’d lost all spark for her art. But now it was back full force. Noah was her muse. “The camera loves you, Noah.”

“I’m more interested in the photographer loving me.”

“She does. Especially since you’re the perfect model.”

“So you’re basically just using me for my body.”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“God, no. But if you’re going to take photos of my manhood, you’ll never find it more impressive than it looks now. You have no idea how sexy you are photographing me, both of us naked.”

She laughed as she sat down next to him. Leaning in as if to kiss him, she instead held the camera sideways and took several rapid-fire shots of his crotch.

“Hey!” he protested.

“You told me to,” she said with a sly grin. “Besides, you’re right. It’s very impressive. And oh so tempting.”

He kissed her slow and gentle, his teeth nibbling her lower lip. It was impossible to imagine being happier than she was at this moment. Could life really be like this?

Noah took the camera from her and slowly pushed her back onto the bed. He guided her onto her side, her back to him as he lifted the camera to his eye.

“You do realize you can’t see my breasts,” she teased, looking over her shoulder at him.

“I don’t want to take photos of your breasts with your camera.” He snapped several shots as he moved around her. “That’s for my phone. And my eyes only.”

He took several more shots before she leaned back against the pillows. “Get your phone. If you’re going to photograph my breasts, do it now before I shower.”

He slid off the bed and dug around in his suit jacket, then pulled out his phone. “Oh, shit. My phone has blown up in the last twelve hours.”

“Why?”

He stood and scanned the screen. “Gram.”

Libby sat up, her breath catching with worry. “What about Gram?”

“She tweeted a photo of us at the chapel.”

It took Libby a moment to put it together. “Megan and Blair saw it.”

“Yeah.” His voice was tight.

“Why do you sound so upset?”

He sighed and put the phone on the nightstand. “You need to call them.”

Anger simmered in her chest. “Why are they upset? Because they weren’t invited?”

He sat on the bed and picked up his phone again, opening his Twitter app. “You need to see the tweet, Lib.” He handed her the phone and she looked at the photo on his screen.

It showed the two of them in their wedding attire with Tito in his costume behind them—diaper, wings, and harp.

Oh shit.

“They’re pissed at me, and they’re worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Look at it, Libby.” He held the phone up in front of her. “They think we got drunk and I took advantage of you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve been like the poster boy for anti-marriage.”

“Well, maybe they think you only married me because of the curse.”

“Why would they be angry with you?”

He shook his head and took several steps toward the bathroom before turning around to look at her. “Because no matter what I do, I will always be the sleazy bastard.”

Libby stood. “Noah.”

Some dark emotion covered his face. “I’m going to take a shower.” He went into the bathroom and shut the door. The water turned on seconds later.

Her temper raging, Libby grabbed his phone and scanned his messages. Megan and Blair had both sent him texts accusing him of taking advantage of her. They clearly did not take her marriage seriously.

Undecided on who to call first, she settled on Blair, who answered on the first ring. “You have some explaining to do, McMillan.”

“He doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”

“Libby,” Blair said, sounding surprised. “Why are you calling from Noah’s phone?”

“Because I left mine at home. Remember?”

“Gram was supposed to bring it to you.”

Well, shit. It was probably in her purse, although it was undoubtedly dead. “Look, it doesn’t matter which phone I’m using. What matters is you’re harassing my husband.”

“Libby, listen. I think we can get it annulled.”

“Why would I want to get it annulled?”

“You’re obviously not thinking clearly. I saw the photo of your wedding. Did you get married in a circus? How drunk were you?”

“I wasn’t drunk at all, not by the time we got to the chapel anyway.”

“So you’re admitting there was alcohol involved? That’s good. We can use that as evidence.”

Libby groaned. “Blair, what do you want?”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I was fine until Noah found the texts from you and Megan.”

“What did you expect us to do? You wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“Here’s an idea—how about you try congratulating me?”

Blair was silent for a few moments. “Libby, I know you’re confused right now. I know you believed in the curse, so I’m sure you jumped at the chance to make it come true. Especially with the bad influences around you.”

“You mean Noah.”

She remained silent.

“Okay,” Libby said, her voice tight. “So let me get this straight. You think I was so desperate to make the curse come true, I would have married anyone who came along.”

“You were going to marry Mitch.”

“Only because I expected my soul mate to show up.”

“Like that sounds any better? Are you listening to yourself? You didn’t even know who it was. So then you married Noah.”

“I love Noah.”

“You love Noah,” she repeated in a monotone. “Since when? You two are friends, like two rule-breaking kids who’ve found a co-conspirator in each other. You never once said you thought Noah was your soul mate. When did you figure this out? Last night when you were drinking? Everything’s so much clearer when you’re drunk.”

“I thought you were my friend, Blair.”

“Believe it or not, I am.”

“No, you just want to lord it over me.”

“What does that mean?”

“You and Megan love that I’m the irresponsible, head-in-the-clouds, screw-up friend. That way you both can feel superior to me.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?’

“Libby.” She sounded irritated. “You have a pattern, and if you would just hop off the Libby whirlwind express for a moment and take a breath, you would see it too. You never handle a breakup well and you always make some stupid decisions you regret later. That is exactly what you’re doing now.”

Fear bubbled in her chest, stealing her breath. Blair was right about her previous breakup behavior. What if she was right about this too? But there was no way in hell she’d let Blair know she’d gotten to her.

“Libs”—Blair’s tone softened—“I love you and I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again. Noah is a user. He’ll take what he wants and move on. If he doesn’t cheat on you first.”

“How can you say that?”

“You know he never stays with one woman for more than a week. And yeah, I know he was in a month-long relationship with that woman in Seattle,” she said dismissively, “but that only proves my point. He’s in a relationship with some woman and then he just up and marries you? It won’t last.”

“I’ve had my own share of men, Blair. I’m not exactly the Virgin Mary.”

“True, but you were always looking for love, deep down. He’s just looking for his next lay.”

“So if Noah is just looking for his next lay, and we both know I’m an easy conquest, why did he marry me?”

“I didn’t say you were an easy conquest.”

“Why did he marry me, Blair?” she repeated with more force.

She paused. “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure out his angle.”

“Well, figure it out without me.” She hung up and scowled at the phone in her hand, wishing she could throw it against the wall. Megan would want to hear from her too, but she couldn’t deal with her right now. Especially since the claws of Blair’s accusations were sinking deeper and deeper into her head.

What if Noah got tired of her? The feelings she had for him were so much deeper and more intense than anything she’d experienced before, but what if it wasn’t the same for him? There was no denying he was a good friend. Could he have married her, in part, to make her feel better? And worse, what if this was just another of Libby’s many desperate attempts to find someone to love her?

Was she really that pathetic?

But then she thought about everything she had shared with Noah, both before and after their wedding. She could trust Blair or she could trust Noah. Which one would it be?

The temptation to go to him swept her into the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall of the shower, his forehead buried against his arm. His hair was wet and water dripped down his muscled back. He really did have the face and body of a god. No woman had ever held enough of a lure to keep him for very long. Why did she think she could?

He heard the door open and looked up, anguish on his face.

Who did she choose to trust?

Staring into his eyes, it was really no choice at all.

She stepped into the shower and pulled his mouth to hers, pressing her body against his chest.

His arms were around her back, pulling her close, his mouth hungry and desperate to claim hers. His hands were everywhere and so were hers—seeking, demanding, begging, claiming. He grabbed her ass and lifted her against the shower wall, entering her as she clung to him. There were no words; their bodies said everything that needed to be said. She came quickly, Noah following right behind her. She buried her face against his chest, still shocked that he was really here with her. That he was hers.

She would believe what she held in her hands, the proof in front of her eyes.

Her friends could go to hell.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Noah,” Libby murmured against his chest, then looked up into his eyes. “I’m so sorry about my friends.”

Her words sent a new jolt of fear through him. He stiffened and started to pull out of her and put her down, but she locked her legs around his back and tightened her hold on his neck.

“Don’t shut me out. Please.”

The fear in her voice caught him off guard. He rested his forehead against hers and her body relaxed.

“I love you. I don’t care what they think.”

He shook his head. “They’re your friends. Of course you care what they think.”

“I’ll admit that Blair infuriated me and hurt me with her judgmental attitude . . .” Her voice wavered. “But she doesn’t run my life.”

“In their eyes, I will never be good enough for you. They will always be waiting for me to fuck up so they can tell you I told you so.”

She flashed him a tiny smile. “That will be a lot harder to do with them in Kansas City and me in Seattle.”

“I can’t ask you to give up twenty-five years of friendship for me.”

She grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes. “Don’t you see? You’re not asking me to choose. You’re giving me the freedom to make my own choice. Blair sees me as an incompetent toddler incapable of making a responsible choice.” She took a breath. “I don’t think I can ever become the responsible person I want to be because it still won’t fit in with their vision of a responsible adult. They’re always judging me against their standards.”

“Libby. I can’t be the person who comes between you and your friends.”

“Don’t you hear what I’m saying? You aren’t coming between them and me. They are coming between us.” She kissed him—a gentle brush of her lips against his—her touch full of so much love it took his breath away. “I love you, Noah McMillan.”

“And I love you, Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair McMillan.” He forced a grin. “You never told me your name is Elizabeth.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Doubt? Did it bother her that he had hadn’t known her real name until their wedding? “You never asked. I hate it. It’s so stuffy.”

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re much more of a Libby to me. My Lib.”

She closed her eyes. “Yes, your Lib.”

His hold on her tightened. He was surprised by the possessiveness rushing through him. He’d thought he would feel more secure about their relationship once they were married, but he was more worried than ever. Now he was aware of what he risked losing.

Her eyes opened and he stared into their rich brown depths. Would he really get to stare into them every day for the rest of his life? The hope and contentment that thought gave him calmed his soul.

“Let’s finish washing up, then get breakfast,” she said, grinning. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.” Her hold loosened and she was sliding down his body, slow and sultry, when a new horror hit him.

“We just had unprotected sex.”

She shook her head dismissively. “It’s okay. I already told you I have an IUD.”

“No, it’s not. I wanted to get checked out first. God . . . Libby . . . I’m sorry. I should have been more responsible.” Then it hit him. Maybe he would never be responsible enough to be a good husband. He wasn’t sure he could bear it if she joined the long list of people he’d failed.

“Noah. Stop.” She said it with more authority than he was used to hearing from her. “You’re my husband.” The smile she gave him was so sweet and soft his throat tightened. “We can have sex without condoms. But if it makes you feel better, we’ll use them until you know for sure, okay?”

Her words soothed the sting of his pain.

“I love you. Please don’t feel any guilt about making love to me. It doesn’t belong there.”

“Okay, but we have to use condoms until I know.”

She grinned. “I won’t let your manhood near me until it’s sheathed. But to be safe, perhaps I should get a chastity belt.”

He kissed her again, pressing her against the shower wall as a tidal wave of love and gratitude overcame him. She always knew just what to say to pull him from his dark places.

“Give me your shampoo,” she said. “I’ll wash your hair.”

They were more subdued than usual as they washed each other. The overwhelming fear he’d still lose her was almost enough to drown him. Here in this moment, it was easy for her to want to stay with him. But what about when they got back to real life? When her friends were with her in person? They’d always see him as a fuckup.

He had to prove them wrong and show them he was worthy of her.

He had to close the Abrahams deal.

Something deep inside told him to tell her what was going on. If anyone would understand his decision to impulsively quit his job, it was Libby. But she was so proud of him and the progress he’d made, and he felt like everything between them was precarious enough. He didn’t want to risk it. If he could set up a meeting with Abrahams, he’d tell her that he was working on a business deal. But if he couldn’t get the meeting, he’d tell her the truth and let everything fall where it would.

He watched her get ready, longing to stay in the cocoon of their room, where they were safe from the rest of the world. When she started blow-drying her hair, he told her he was going to get ice and took the ice bucket and his phone into the hall.

Tiffany answered on the second ring. “I thought you were blowing me off, Noah.”

“No, of course not,” he said, feeling slimy as he ran a hand through his hair. “I just got tied up.” He took a breath. “So, about Scott . . . Can you set something up?”

“Yeah, but I’m more interested in setting something up between you and me.”

Tell her. Just tell her you’re married. But he couldn’t. He needed this deal so he could start his life with Libby, and he wasn’t sure Tiffany would set it up if she didn’t think she had a shot with him. When Libby moved to Seattle, they’d have nothing. She deserved more from him. “Um . . . I . . .”

“What’s gotten into you, Noah? You don’t sound like yourself.”

“Oh . . . just fighting a cold.”

“I can bring you some chicken soup . . . and then feed it to you.”

Before Libby, he would have been ready to go just thinking about it. But now, it made him feel dirty. “That’s okay, it’s just a small one. So about that meeting . . .”

“You are one persistent boy, aren’t you? That’s something I loved about you,” she said with so much innuendo a deaf man could hear it.

He ignored her last statement. “My business really needs this.”

“And I really need you.” Her voice was low and seductive.

Shit. Shit. What was he going to do? Tell her. TELL HER. “I’m not in town for very long.”

“We only need a few hours, lover boy.”

“I thought you were seeing Scott.”

She giggled. “Come on. Like that stopped you before.”

“I’m seeing someone.”

Another giggle. “Like that’s stopped me before. Besides, everyone knows you don’t really see women. Lucky for you, I’m not looking for more than a few hours at the most. You know what they say—what happens in Vegas . . .” Her voice trailed off with seductive promise.

He swallowed, knowing he was at a crossroads. If he led her on any more, he’d be cheating on Libby and he refused to do that. He’d support her some other way; hell, he’d get a job as a janitor if need be. “Tiffany, I’m married.”

“You’re what?” She couldn’t have sounded more shocked if he’d told her he was an alien from Mars.

He leaned his back against the wall by the ice machine and heaved out a breath. “I’m married and I love my wife very much. I don’t want to deceive you or lead you on any more than I already have. I need this account, but I won’t sleep with you to get it. If you don’t want to set up a meeting for me with Scott, I understand, but I really hope you can help me out.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she mumbled. “You’re married. Has hell frozen over?”

He released a nervous chuckle. “It very well might have.”

“So you love her, huh?”

“You have no idea. Please.”

“Yeah, sure . . . why not? If you can fall in love, get married and be so adamant about remaining faithful, it gives the rest of us single girls hope.” She still sounded dazed. “When are you free?”

“My day is flexible. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“I’ll text you when I know something. Tell your wife congrats.”

“Thanks, but if we run into each other later, can you not mention the meeting to her? I want to surprise her with the closed deal when it’s done.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He was already on his way back to the room when he realized he hadn’t filled the bucket. He turned around and completed that task, then went back to the room. When he walked in, Libby was leaning over her suitcase, stark naked.

He grinned. “You have no idea how happy I am that you aren’t self-conscious about your body. It makes me consider becoming a nudist.”

She laughed as she pulled a black sweater from the bag. “I figure this is how God made me. Besides, gravity isn’t my friend. One day the girls will go south.” She glanced up at him. “I hope you’re prepared for that.”

“Libby, you will always be beautiful to me. Even when you’re nine months pregnant with our baby someday.” He hadn’t meant to say that last part, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was true. Libby would be an incredible mother.

Her mouth parted as she turned to look at him. “I thought you didn’t want kids.”

“I didn’t think I did either until you. I love kids. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I seem to have a lot in common with them.” He winked. “I just don’t want to screw up my own kids. But how can they be screwed up with you as their mother?” Then he stopped. “Unless you don’t want kids.”

She shook her head, smiling with tears in her eyes. “No. I do.”

“And you married me thinking I didn’t?”

“I want you more. Kids are bonus.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Finish getting ready and let’s get some lunch—it’s after eleven o’clock, so I think it’s past breakfast. How about I call Gram and see if she and Nana Ruby want to join us?”

“Really?” Her eyes widened in shock. “I thought you’d be upset with her after the whole Twitter incident.”

He sighed. “Blair and Megan were going to find out the ugly details at some point, and Gram meant well. If we invite her to lunch, she’ll know we’re not angry with her. If she even knows things are a mess back home. She might be totally oblivious.”

She stiffened in his arms. “You think our wedding was ugly?”

“I think our wedding was perfectly us, but we both know that your friends—especially Blair—would have been horrified and offended by it.” He bent at the knees to look her in the eyes. “I suspect you got an earful when you called them earlier.”

“I only talked to Blair and it was enough.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shook her head and her eyes lit up with fire. “Their loss, but it only proves that other than Tortoise, there’s really nothing left for me in Kansas City. I want to move my things to Seattle as soon as possible.”

“I love you, Lib. I hope I’m worth the grief.”

A soft smile spread across her face. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say you love me.”

“If I said it as many times as the feeling hits me, I suspect I’ll annoy the hell out of you, but I’m willing to take the risk.”

She placed a kiss on his lips, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I like the sound of that. Why don’t you call Gram while I get dressed?”

He nodded and watched her ass as she dug her jeans and underwear out of the bag. It was a good thing he was out of condoms or he’d suggest they order room service instead.

He pulled up Gram’s number. “Hey, Gram.”

“I’m surprised you and Libby are still speaking to me. Megan’s about to birth twin cows.” She sounded more subdued than usual.

He shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “Libby says it’s their loss. We love that you got a photo. For all I know it’s one of the only ones. We were supposed to get professional photos, but Angelica broke the camera, so unless one of the homeless guys had a camera, I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen.”

“I’m not sure why they have their panties in a wad. I thought it was a lovely service.”

“Thanks, Gram. We loved it too. Say . . . I know we talked about having dinner tonight, but we were wondering if you and Nana Ruby wanted to join us for lunch instead.”

“Sounds good. Then we can go see Donny and Marie tonight.”

He laughed. “You want to see Donny and Marie?”

“Nah. It seemed like a good compromise. Ruby’s a little bit country and I’m a whole lot of rock and roll. What Ruby doesn’t know is we’re going to a strip club after. I’m hoping to meet my Mr. Right.”

“Well, okay then . . . that works out well. Do you have a preference where we eat for lunch?”

“That Food Network guy has a restaurant here. How about we eat at his place?”

“Sounds good. Can you be ready to meet us there at noon? I’ll see if I can get reservations.”

“We’ll see you kids there.”

“It’s a date.” He hung up and grinned.

Libby stood in front of him wearing a pair of jeans that clung to her hips and a black sweater with a V-neck that dipped into her cleavage and knit fabric that showed off her generous breasts. It didn’t help matters that he knew she was wearing black lingerie underneath. “I’m ready to go. What are we going to do for the next forty-five minutes?”

He pulled her into his arms, groaning. “Not what I’d like to be doing. You’re gorgeous.”

She laughed. “How about we find some condoms for later, then wander around until it’s time to meet them for lunch.”

“That sounds like a fabulous plan. We better get the jumbo package. I hope your purse is big enough.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Gram and Nana Ruby were waiting for them at the entrance to the restaurant. Nana Ruby had ditched the sparkles for a red sweatshirt that said My grandkid can whoop your grandkid’s ass. Gram wore yoga pants and a T-shirt. Her face was red and she was huffing and puffing.

“Gram, are you okay?” Libby asked, worried. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m still sweating from that hot yoga class.” She pointed her finger at Libby. “And for the record, hot yoga is not full of hot men. I stayed long enough to break a sweat, then hightailed it out of there.”

Noah laughed and wrapped his arm around Libby’s back, resting it on her hip. She glanced up at him with a smile.

“You girls are stealing all the hot men,” Gram teased. “There are none left for me.” She pointed over to Nana. “Even Ruby has a man.”

“You’ll find one,” Noah assured her with a wink. “He could be right under your nose and you’re too blind to see it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “More like I would have to be blind to look at any of them naked. All the fat rolls and floppy skin. Not to mention it’s too hard to get to the good stuff.” She held her hands in front of her, mimicking holding the fat rolls.

Libby cringed at the thought.

“Good God, Maude,” Nana groaned. “We’re about to eat.”

“Thanks for coming to our wedding,” Libby said. “You have no idea how happy we were that you were there.”

Gram patted her arm, her eyes soft with affection. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Libby, my girl.”

Libby gave her a hug, happy that she and Noah had support from someone.

The hostess led them to their table. After they ordered and their food was served they talked about the wedding and Libby’s friends’ reaction.

“I understand why Blair’s carrying on,” Gram said, sawing on a piece of steak. “She’s always had a stick up her ass, but I’m disappointed in Megan.”

“To be fair,” Libby said, sipping from her water glass, “I haven’t talked to Megan.”

Gram scowled. “I have.”

Well, that confirmed that.

“How long are you kids staying in Vegas?” Nana asked.

Libby turned to look at Noah, surprised by the blank look on his face.

He studied her face. “I found out a potential client is here. I’m hoping to have a chance to meet with him.”

“Oh. Okay.” When had he found that out? He hadn’t had his laptop out, but then again, he only needed his phone to check his email.

“I’m hoping to see him this afternoon. We could leave tonight or tomorrow.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “I’m eager to get Libby moved to Seattle.”

Gram looked surprised. “You’re moving to Seattle?”

Libby gave her a sheepish look. “We’d decided on that a couple of days ago. Before . . . our wedding.”

Gram leaned forward, her eyes glowing. “Is that so?”

Noah tried to play nonchalant. “Libby’s serious about the artistic side of her photography, not just family portraits and senior photos. The climate is better for that in the Pacific Northwest.”

“And who brought this up first?” Nana Ruby asked.

Noah shrugged, keeping his attention on his salmon. “I did.”

“Is that so?” Gram asked again, sounding like she knew there was more to the story.

He looked up. “What?”

“You were just being a good friend?”

He grinned. “That too.”

Libby gasped and turned to face him. “What else?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Lib, I decided not to come to your wedding because I couldn’t stand the thought of you marrying anyone, let alone Mitch. But then I decided I couldn’t let it happen at all. I intended to stop the wedding.”

“You did?”

He cringed. “Yeah.”

She whacked his shoulder with her napkin. “So why didn’t you tell me?”

He lifted his hands in defense. “You shot me down a month ago. I figured you were going to take some wooing.”

“We’ve already discussed the whole proposition thing. And wooing?” she teased.

“Turns out I’m old-fashioned. Who knew?” A huge grin spread across his face. “I didn’t have sex with my wife until our wedding night. Go figure.”

“Noah,” she groaned good-naturedly. She wasn’t opposed to people knowing, but heavens only knew what Gram would do with that information.

Gram laughed. “Oh, we already knew. He told us last night.”

“What?”

“We told him to step up his game plan.”

Libby shook her head, trying to make all the pieces fit. “So when you asked me to move to Seattle . . .”

“I figured it would give me the opportunity to convince you I was worth the risk.”

“And when I told you I wanted to take a year off from men?”

He grimaced. “I wasn’t thrilled, but I was willing to wait.”

“While you saw other women?”

He turned serious. “No. Once I put it together that I loved you, I knew there was no other woman for me but you.”

“But you said you would move . . . get a two-bedroom house . . .”

“Lib, I fully intended to give you your own room until you were ready. My intention was to show you I’d changed.”

Overcome with emotion, she pulled his face to hers for a kiss. “I love you.”

He smiled at her. “I love you too.”

“And I love that daughter-in-law of mine,” Ruby said with a low growl. “But she’s a pigheaded fool if she can’t see the two of you are meant to be together.”

Libby offered the woman a smile. “Thanks, Nana.”

Gram patted her hand. “They’ll come around.”

Libby was so pissed about their lack of support, she wasn’t sure it mattered.

Noah pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the screen. “That’s the text I’ve been waiting for. My meeting is set for two.” He looked up at Libby, worry in his eyes. “Is it okay if I leave you for about an hour or two?”

“Of course it is. I’m not a child who needs to be babysat.”

He shook his head slightly. “I know you’re not, but I’m taking time from our honeymoon. That doesn’t seem right.”

“Oh. I hadn’t considered this our honeymoon.”

“It’s very much our honeymoon, Mrs. McMillan. And while I never really cared for Vegas before, I have a special fondness for it now. Still, after my meeting, I think this city has served its purpose. Are you good with leaving tonight? We can go anywhere you want.”

She rested her hand on his cheek. “I want to go home.”

His smile fell slightly and she realized he misunderstood.

“Our home. In Seattle.”

He kissed her again, and when he finally lifted his head, Libby’s face burned with embarrassment. He’d practically devoured her in front of the grandmas.

“If only I were twenty years younger,” Gram murmured.

“You’d still be too old for him,” Nana said sternly.

“It wouldn’t matter,” Gram said with a grin. “He’d still only have eyes for our girl.”

They finished lunch and while Nana and Gram invited Libby to walk the strip, Libby turned them down. “I think I’ll grab my camera and see what I can find to photograph.”

The two women left and Noah and Libby went up to their room. Noah opened his laptop and studied the screen, his leg bouncing as he read.

“Noah, why are you so nervous?”

He looked up at her and blinked. “What? I’m not nervous. Just a regular meeting.”

He was lying. Why was he lying?

All the doubts from earlier came rushing back. She knelt in front of him. “I need you to promise me something, okay?”

“Anything, Lib,” he answered with an earnestness she was still getting used to.

“I need you to promise to tell me the truth. You know I’ve had a history with men who have been untruthful. I need to know I can trust you.”

“You have to know I’d never purposely hurt you.”

“I know, but this is a deal-breaker for me, Noah. I need you to always tell me the truth.”

He looked into her eyes, an uncharacteristic seriousness setting into his jaw. “I will. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

He pushed out a breath. “This deal is important. I’ve been talking to this guy in Seattle and getting the runaround. I found out he’s here, so I’m hoping to seal the deal this afternoon. With the merger . . . the business needs this.”

She kissed him and smiled. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Why would you hide that from me?”

“I don’t want you to worry.”

“Noah, we’re married now. If you’re nervous, then it’s my job to worry. Just like it’s your job to be nervous when we go to New York for my exhibit.”

He pulled her onto his lap, evoking a surprised laugh from her. “You’ve decided to finish your project?”

She grinned. “Let’s just say this morning’s photography session inspired me.”

He lifted his eyebrows in mock recrimination. “I know it’s a New York exhibit and they’re much more liberal there, but I strongly discourage using the photos of my penis, no matter how impressive they are.”

She laughed. “You’ve ruined my theme. I planned to photograph the penises of men all over the country. I could group them by region. Or would it be better to organize them by length?”

“The only penis I plan to let you near is mine.” He looked up from his laptop. “And if I had more time, I’d let you get even closer to it now.”

“Later,” she murmured.

“I know we’ve paid for the room tonight, but I’d still like to go home this evening if it’s okay with you. I’ll book us tickets when I get back from the meeting.” He grinned. “But there will be plenty of time for you to get reacquainted with my penis before we go.”

She laughed. “Sounds perfect.”

He stood and set her on her feet. “Wish me luck.”

She gave him a kiss. “Good luck, my love.”

“You’re all the luck I need.” He gathered his laptop and put it into his bag. “Are you sure you’re okay by yourself?”

She picked up her camera bag. “I’m fine. I’m going to explore outside the hotel. I have some ideas about capturing the fountains at the Bellagio.”

He grabbed her left hand and kissed her wedding ring. “Flash this at any man who gets within six feet of you.”

She laughed.

“You think I’m joking. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known and I’m not the only one who notices. When we get home I plan to get you a huge-ass diamond to blind any man who comes near you.”

She tried to keep a straight face. “Huge-ass. I think I heard they added that to the list of diamond sizes.”

He looked into her eyes, all teasing gone. “I love you, Libby.”

That caught her attention. “Noah, what aren’t you telling me?”

He hesitated and then flashed her a smile. “In full disclosure, my apartment is a total bachelor pad. I think I even left dirty laundry on the floor when I was throwing my clothes around in my haste to pack. I hope it doesn’t scare you off.”

“Just take me home and we’ll sort it all out when we get there.”

He gave her one last look, the seriousness in his eyes scaring her, and left the room.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The beauty of Las Vegas was it was warmer than Kansas City, but the wind still nipped through the weave of Libby’s sweater. She hugged it tight, wishing Noah was with her to keep her warm. But she knew this meeting was more important than he was letting on. Why hadn’t he told her about it sooner? When had he found out the guy was in Vegas?

She lingered in front of the fountains, waiting for them to turn on. She knew they were on timers, but they seemed to be lagging behind.

While she waited, she photographed people on the strip and found herself concentrating on couples. There were two distinct groups—those who were simply there together and those who wanted to be with their significant others. The ones in the former group filled her with sadness. With one couple, the husband wore a look of irritation while his wife stared at him with a yearning that broke Libby’s heart. But there were others. A wife on her phone while her husband lagged behind. And another couple that had clearly had a recent argument—the wife in tears, her husband with a set jaw and a hard look in his eyes.

But the couples in love filled her with hope. Those couples had to touch each other in some way, even if only with their eyes. She watched as a couple in their forties stopped next to the fountains, probably waiting for them to turn on. The wife wore a light jacket and shivered when the wind gusted, so her husband pulled her into his arms. After wrapping his jacket around her back, he kissed her gently. The moment reminded her so much of her and Noah during their visit to the Czechoslovakian egg. Other than the kissing, had they looked like that? She remembered his gentleness and realized he’d already known he loved her. He’d planned that entire day out of love for her. How had she been so blind?

The familiar insecurities rushed in out of nowhere—her worn, faithful companions. They whispered into her ear, telling her that she was doomed, that she couldn’t keep Noah’s love. And maybe it was true. So many men—men she’d never even loved—had left her. And if her string of lost lovers wasn’t proof enough that she might be unlovable, her parents were icing on the cake. Her mother may have been physically present in her life, but she’d always made it clear that Libby was more of a nuisance than a blessing. And her father had left her when she was a baby.

And then he’d left a second time.

The memory she’d never shared with anyone—not Megan, not Blair, and not even her mother—washed over her, sickening in its clarity.

He showed up at their front door one day after Libby came home from school. Her mother was still at work. She wasn’t supposed to answer the door when her mother wasn’t home, but she recognized him from the photo she kept in her underwear drawer. She pulled it out often enough that she would have recognized him anywhere, even if he now had wrinkles around his eyes and streaks of gray in his dark hair. She’d dreamed of this day since she was little. In her fantasy, her dad would show up and tell her that he’d never intended to leave her for so long. He’d been kept from her by some overpowering force—he’d been in a coma, or he’d been lost on a deserted island, or he’d been held prisoner by pirates—and now that he’d come to his senses he’d searched high and low for his little girl.

But suddenly there he was, standing on her front porch, glancing at the landscaping under the picture window with a look of disgust as he pushed the doorbell repeatedly.

Libby’s stomach tumbled with nerves and she swallowed her nausea as she opened the door, prepared for him to swoop her into his arms and shower her with love.

He eyed her up and down dismissively before looking over her shoulder into the living room. “Is Gabriella here?”

Libby stuffed down her disappointment. He hadn’t seen her since she was a tiny baby. How would he know her now? She held on to the doorknob and twisted it nervously. “She’s at work.”

“Oh.” He took a step back as if to leave.

He couldn’t leave! He’d just shown up! She scrambled to come up with a reason for him stay. “She’ll be home any minute if you want to come in and wait!” It was a flat-out lie. Her mother was going out with friends after work, but he didn’t have to know that.

He eyed her again, as though appraising her trustworthiness. She flashed him a warm smile and he gave a slight nod. “Well, I can wait for a few minutes.”

She backed up and opened the door wider for him to cross the threshold. “Gabriella’s done good for herself, huh?” he said walking around the room, picking up a knick-knack and examining it before setting it back in its place.

Libby shut the door. “Yeah, I guess.”

He turned to study her, his right hand twitching. “You say she’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Yeah. Can I get you something to drink?”

He hesitated.

“A beer?”

She knew she’d made the right offer when a grin spread across his face. “Yeah. Sure. Gabby still drink Miller Light?”

“Uh . . . I think she has Corona and Boulevard.”

He sat on the sofa and crossed his legs, releasing a sharp laugh. “That’s Gabby. Always thinking she’s better than where she came from.”

Libby had no idea what he was talking about, but this wasn’t going how she’d dreamed it would. “Which one?”

Annoyance filled his eyes. “Get me the Corona, kid.” Libby was on her way to the kitchen when he called after her. “You got a lime? Ain’t that how the high and mighty drink it? With a lime?”

“Uh . . . I don’t know . . .”

He rolled his eyes. “You ain’t too bright, are you? Never mind.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Just get me the damn beer.”

She stumbled into the kitchen, resisting the urge to cry. Why hadn’t he told her he loved her? That he missed her and wanted to make up for lost time? She considered calling Megan, who lived closer than Blair. If her friend hopped on her bike, she’d get there in five minutes. But Libby looked at the clock on the microwave and realized that Megan was at a piano lesson and Blair was shopping with her mother. Libby could have called Gabriella—her mother made her use her first name so men wouldn’t think she was her kid—but she would be furious to hear Libby had let a stranger in the door. But he wasn’t a stranger! He was her father!

“Hey, kid! Where’s the beer? You get lost in the fridge?” He chuckled at his cleverness.

Libby pulled herself together and pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge, popped the top open and walked into the living room.

He was still on the sofa, his arm draped over the back. When she walked into the room, his expression changed. His hard, dark eyes softened and he licked his bottom lower lip.

She stopped in the doorway and took a moment to study him. There was no doubt he looked older than his picture, but it had been twelve years. He was thinner, and his face was covered with salt and pepper stubble. His jeans were filthy and his T-shirt was stained. He’d worn holes into the elbows of his black leather jacket as well as his white athletic shoes.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twelve.” She waited for him to connect the dots.

His eyes blinked wide. “Twelve. You look like you’re fifteen.”

She didn’t answer. She was used to her mother’s friends assuming the same thing.

“You’re a pretty thing.”

She was used to hearing that too. She shared her mother’s thick, dark, wavy hair and olive complexion, and was already showing the promise of her mother’s figure. She’d been the first girl in her class to need a bra.

“You gonna stand there all day or bring me that beer?” He grinned, but the leer on his face reminded her of her mother’s boyfriends. The ones she avoided.

Tears stung her eyes again, but she blinked them back as she took a few hesitant steps toward him, holding the bottle out.

He reached for it, but wrapped his hand around her wrist instead. “Didn’t get one for yourself?” The smile that spread across his face wasn’t friendly.

She jerked back out of instinct and the liquid in the bottle sloshed onto both their hands.

He let go of her like she was dirty. “Now look what you did, you stupid bitch.” He jerked his hand back, and for a moment she thought he was going to backhand her, but then he dropped it.

Libby took several steps back, still holding the bottle in her hand, prepared to use it as a weapon if need be.

He licked the beer off his hand and leered at her. “Why don’t you come sit by me.”

This man might be her father, but she wasn’t stupid. “I don’t think so.”

He gave her a look that said suit yourself, then glanced around the room. “Your mother keep any money in the house?”

“No.” She was pissed and she didn’t try to hide it.

He grinned. “Not even in her room? Under the mattress maybe?” He got up and made a move toward the hall, but Libby moved faster and blocked his path.

“I don’t think so.”

A sneer covered his face. “Let me teach you a few things about life, Elizabeth.”

Her breath stuck in her chest. He knew her. He knew her and yet he was still being an ass.

He laughed as if reading her thoughts. “Yeah, I knew you were Gabby’s brat.”

“I’m yours too,” she pushed out, barely audible.

He released a short bark. “By no choice of my own. I gave her the money to get an abortion, but she used it to go to Mexico for a week.”

“What?”

He towered over her. “I bet Gabby never told you that, did she?”

“No.”

“I’m not surprised. I bet there’s a lot of things she never told you.”

He was close enough for her to smell his odor of stale cigarettes and sweat. His eyes were slightly unfocused. He was high. He must have come looking for drug money.

Libby took several steps backward into the hall. “I think you should leave now.”

He laughed as he advanced on her. “Why? We’re just getting reacquainted. I bet you’ve had dreams of this day. Am I right? All kids want their parents to love them. You thought I’d show up and bring you a pony or something, huh? Just let me get the money and I’ll take you out for an ice cream cone.”

She was an idiot. Every dream she’d ever had of their reunion shriveled up and died. She narrowed her eyes and said with as much force as she could muster, “You need to leave.”

“What are you going to do, little girl? I’m not leaving until I get the money Gabby owes me.”

“Then come back when she’s here.”

An evil gleam filled his eyes. “You said she’d be back in a few minutes.”

She squared her shoulders. “You need to go.”

He paused, then laughed. “You’re just like her.”

She knew who her was and his words hurt more than if he’d slapped her in the face. She never wanted to be like her mother. He laughed when he saw he’d gotten to her. “You know, since I am your father, I suppose I owe you a legacy. Am I right?” He grinned wide, showing her a mouth full of broken and rotting teeth. “I’m fresh out of ponies, but I’ve got something better.”

Whatever he had, she didn’t want. Not anymore. “Leave.”

“You don’t want my gift?”

“If you don’t go, I’ll call 911.”

“You won’t because you want to know what I have to say. Well, here’s my legacy to you: words of wisdom. Isn’t that a father’s job? To prepare his kid for life?”

No. A father’s job was to make his daughter feel protected. To dry her tears and hug her when she was hurt. His job was to love her no matter what and always, always be there for her, but that was a mother’s job too, and Gabriella had never done any of those things for Libby. So why had she expected any different from her low-life father?

“I don’t care what you have to say!” she shouted through her tears. “Go!”

He laughed, a harsh bitter sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Men will only be interested in one thing, Elizabeth. Your body.” He touched her cheek and slid it down her neck.

She slapped his hand away with enough force to push it off her.

He released a peal of laughter. “Ah, you got some fight in you, girl. That comes from me. That’ll serve you well. But you got things from both of us.”

“Get the hell out of my house!”

He ignored her, leaning so close she could smell his rotten breath. “Your mother and I, we’re both fucking messes, and guess what, girlie? You got our genes. So let me give you a heads-up no one ever gave Gabby: No man will ever really love you. They’ll want your body and your looks and they’ll lie through their teeth to get you. But when they’ve used you up, they’ll move on. That’s what I did with your mother and every woman ever since. And your mother, she’s the same.”

Libby shook her head. “No.”

“She ain’t been with one man longer than a few months, am I right?”

She gripped the beer bottle so tight it was slippery in her hand.

“And don’t be thinking you can escape it. You’re just like her, from your face to your fiery temper. The sooner you accept that you’ll never keep a man, the less heartache you’ll have.” He stood up straight. “So there you go, Elizabeth. My legacy for you. Get used to a lonely fucking life.” He backed up into the living room and kicked a chair, making it fall over backward. “Get used to being alone, because no one fucking wants you. Not me. Not your mother who planned to abort you. No one.”

Without a second thought, Libby swung the bottle into the side of his head, beer and glass spraying everywhere. “You’re lying! Someone will love me! Someone who deserves me, and that sure as hell isn’t you. Now get out of my house, you fucking loser!”

He stumbled backward, looking dazed. She pushed his chest as hard as she could and he lurched toward the door, blood streaming down the side of his face.

She opened the front door and shoved him onto the front porch. “If you ever come back here, I’ll kill you.”

She slammed the door shut and locked it, pressing her back against the wood and fighting the sob lodged in her throat. When she heard his car start and pull away, she slid to the floor, her tears bursting loose. After she’d cried herself hoarse, she decided she had a choice. She could let the asshole who’d contributed half her DNA steal her dreams, or she could give him a big fuck-you and believe in them more.

She chose her dreams.

She ran to her room and dug out his photo, which she set fire to in the kitchen sink. As his image burned, she burned any hope of a relationship with him with it. As far as she was concerned, he was dead.

Already a firm believer in magic and destiny and fairytale endings, she latched on to them even more. She was determined that every boy and then man she met was the one—the exception who would prove her father wrong. In high school, she wrote off the broken relationships to immaturity and youth, but it was the cross-country road trip with Barry, the surfer, that made her question her real destiny. By the time they hit New Mexico, it was clear that she was a short-term relationship for him. He would never take her home to meet his mother.

Had her father been right? Was she so screwed up no one could love her?

And until she met Mitch, a long string of one-night stands and month-long relationships seemed to support that idea. But then Megan’s wedding reminded her of the curse, and she was sure that was her destiny. That was why her soul mate hadn’t shown up yet. It just hadn’t been time. So she kept Mitch around to spur her own substitute groom.

And to her surprise, he turned out to be Noah.

Only she wasn’t sure why she’d been surprised. She was glad they’d started out as friends, otherwise she doubted she would have spent the time to get to know him so well. And she knew he loved her. She could see it in his eyes. But she had to keep in mind that he was still Noah. What if Blair was right? Staying with women wasn’t something he did. Was he capable of changing for her? Was she capable of changing for him?

What if her father was right? What if her genes were her destiny and she would end up alone?

If she lost Noah, she knew she’d give up on love completely.

Chapter Twenty-Six

A ringing phone broke her out of her thoughts and she was surprised to discover it was her own phone since she’d assumed it was dead. She dug it out of her purse and stifled a groan when she saw the name on caller ID.

Megan.

Figuring she might as well get this over with, she answered before it went to voice mail. “Hello, Megan.”

“Don’t hang up on me. I’m not going to give you a hard time.”

Libby didn’t quite believe that, but she decided to hear her out. “Okay.”

“First, I want you to know that I do believe you and Noah love each other. Blair has a hard time seeing it, but it’s been clear as day to Josh and me.”

“So why do I hear a but in there?”

Megan paused. “I just wish you two had slowed down a bit and talked things through more. But that’s not who you two are. You’re impulsive.”

“That didn’t come through as a compliment, so I’m presuming that’s your but.”

“Libs, you know I love you and I want you to be happy, but there are things you need to think about with a marriage. Logistics.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Where are you going to live?”

“I’m moving to Seattle.”

“Even though Noah quit his job?”

She blinked, sure she’d heard Megan wrong. “What are you talking about?”

“Libby, Noah quit his job on Friday.” She hesitated. “I take it he hasn’t told you.”

She didn’t respond. Her silence was answer enough.

“Don’t you think that’s something a husband should tell his wife? Especially before they get married?”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Megan.” She knew she sounded short, but panic was bubbling in her gut. “He’s in the middle of a business meeting right now.”

“In Vegas? His offices are in Kansas City and Seattle. Why would he have a meeting in Las Vegas?”

Oh, God. Please don’t let this be happening. She wasn’t sure she could handle his betrayal. What was he up to? “I have to go.”

“Libs, I’m sorry. I thought you should know.”

“No.” Libby started hurrying toward the hotel. “You wanted to gloat.”

“Libby! How can you say that? We love you!”

“You may love me, but you’ve never tried to understand me.” Not like Noah had. No one had tried half as much as Noah had. “I have to go.” She hung up on Megan’s protests and turned her phone off so she couldn’t be reached.

Noah had to have an explanation. She just needed to let him tell her what was going on.

But what if he lied? He hadn’t said a thing about quitting. How could she trust him?

She was close to hysteria when she got back to the hotel room, equally relieved and upset that he hadn’t gotten back yet. She packed up the few things she had removed from her suitcase, then began to pace the room, waiting for him to come back.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a light blinking on and off on the room phone. She ignored the message, worried Megan or Blair had found out which room they were in, but what if it was Noah? He didn’t know her phone was working, and besides, she had just turned it off.

With shaking fingers, she typed in the code to hear the message, sucking in a breath when she heard a woman’s voice. “Noah, sorry to call you on this phone since I know you’re trying to keep this from your wife,” Libby heard a hint of jealousy in the word, “but just in case you didn’t get my message, come to room 1470.”

No. God, no.

She held the phone in her hand for several seconds, shell-shocked. What was she going to do?

She found herself in the elevator before she realized what she was doing.

Think this through, Libby, she told herself as she pressed the button for fourteen on the number bank. Once you do this, it can’t be undone.

But what couldn’t be undone? Her finding out he was in a business deal for a business he wasn’t part of? Or finding him fucking another woman in a hotel room while on his honeymoon with her?

The elevator stopped on the fourteenth floor and she headed down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest. The reasonable, sane part of her told her this was a mistake. Noah loved her. He wouldn’t betray her, but Blair’s voice played in her head on repeat: Noah is a user. He’ll take what he wants and move on. If he doesn’t cheat on you first.

Her father’s voice joined the party next: No man will ever really love you. They’ll want your body and your looks and they’ll lie through their teeth to get you. But when they’ve used you up, they’ll move on.

Not Noah. Please, God, not Noah too. Anyone but Noah.

Then knock on the door and find out.

Her body had been on autopilot while her mind was busy taunting her and she found herself in front of the door to room 1470, her hand suspended to knock. What if he wasn’t in there? What if he was? What would she do?

She’d put it together as it played out.

She rapped on the door and took a step back, preparing herself for what was on the other side.

A perky brunette opened the door. She was dressed in a pencil skirt and blouse unbuttoned enough to show her cleavage, and she held a champagne flute in her hand. “Can I help you?”

Suddenly, Libby felt like a fool. “I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong room.”

“That’s okay, I thought you were room service,” the woman said, then looked over her shoulder. “Noah, it’s okay. The food’s not here yet.”

Noah.

White spots danced in front of Libby’s eyes. She shoved the woman aside and marched past her.

Noah sat on the made bed, a champagne flute in his hand. His face paled the moment he saw her and he jumped to his feet.

A thousand and one possible reactions filtered through her head—screaming, crying, throwing things, pitching a royal fit—but all she could manage was to turn around and walk out of the room.

“Libby!”

She ran down the hall and pounded on the up button.

“Libby! Let me explain!”

As soon as the doors opened, she ran inside and pushed the button for their floor.

Noah was running after her, panic on his face. “Libby!”

She ignored the pleading in his voice as the doors shut on his face.

She couldn’t think, couldn’t react. She could only run. When she opened the door to her room, it occurred to her that she had to figure out what to do next. What was she going to do?

Home. She needed to go home.

When Noah burst into the room, she was already dragging her suitcase toward the door.

“Libby. You have to let me explain.”

She tried to get around him, but he grabbed her shoulders and held her in place.

“Libby! Talk to me!”

She shook her head, trying to string the words together to form a sentence. “What do you want me to say?” she finally spat out.

“Don’t you want to know why I was there?”

She shook her head, tears burning her eyes. “I already know.”

“No, you don’t.”

She jerked free from his hold and looked up into his pleading face. “Then let me tell you what I saw. You were in a hotel room drinking champagne with a woman—in a hotel room!”

“Yes! But it’s not how it looks. We were celebrating a business deal.”

“In a hotel room?”

“Yes!”

“For a job you quit last Friday.”

His face paled even more. “Yes, I was trying to get it back.”

She put her hand on her hip, some of her fire returning. “Why didn’t you tell me you quit? How could you keep that from me? I begged you to tell me the truth before you left.”

“I wanted to tell you—I was dying to tell you—but your problems seemed more important than mine. And then I figured if I could get the deal, it would be a moot point.”

“My problems.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Libby, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant you were so upset over Mitch and the wedding, it just seemed like your issues took precedence over mine.”

She ran over the details of the last couple of days in her head, looking at everything in a new light. “That woman was Tiffany.”

He sucked in a breath. “Yes. How did—”

“You sent her a Facebook friend request.” How could she have been so stupid? “She’s the reason we came to Vegas.”

Fear filled his eyes. “Yes, but it’s only because her boss was coming too.”

“Her nonexistent boss.”

“Libby, please. You have to believe me. Nothing happened. I met with her boss and presented my proposal, then, thank God, he accepted.”

“In her room.”

He cringed. “Yes. Their room.”

He was unbelievable! Did he really think she was that gullible? “So where was her boss, Noah?”

“He was in the bathroom.”

She shook her head. She’d heard enough. “Whatever.” She tried to walk around him, but he blocked her path.

“How can you assume the worst of me after everything?” he demanded, sounding angry.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she shouted. “I caught you cheating and you’re accusing me of doing something wrong?”

“I wasn’t cheating on you!” He groaned in frustration, then paused. “How did you even know where I was?”

“Your girlfriend called and left a message with her room number.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he shouted, pounding his fist into the wall.

“You’re telling me you weren’t screwing her?”

“No! If you would just listen to what I’m telling you, you’d know that!”

Suddenly she had a moment of doubt. What if her insecurities were causing her to overreact? God knew Megan and Blair had her worked up . . . not to mention the memories of her father. Noah and the woman had both been fully clothed. But this was clearly not the first time they’d met. The woman had accepted his friend request while they were on their trip. “You knew her already. Have you screwed her before?” He started to protest, but she pointed her finger in his face. “Think carefully about your answer.”

Fear washed over his face. “Libby.”

Oh, God. “Answer the question, Noah.”

“Yes. But it was last January. There is nothing going on now. I swear.”

“You swear. You swear!” Her voice broke and she shoved his chest, but he was so much larger he barely moved, which only pissed her off more. “You lied to me!”

“Only about my job, Libby, but I was trying to get it back. For you. So we could start our new lives together.”

“How can I believe you?”

“What reason have I given you to not trust me?” He grabbed his head with both hands. “Oh, my God, Libby! I love you! Can’t you see how much I love you? I would sooner die than cheat on you. You have to believe me!”

“Why do I have to believe you?” she demanded. “So I can look like even more of a fool?”

His eyes lit up like a struck match. “You’re just looking for a reason to break up with me.”

“Excuse me? Are you really trying to pin this on me?”

“I’ve never given you a reason to not trust me. Not one.”

“You lied to me about your job!”

“I didn’t lie, Libby! I just hadn’t told you because I was hoping to get it back. You kept telling me how proud you were of me and I knew I needed to get my job back to take care of you. I didn’t want you to look at me with the same look of disapproval I always see in Josh’s eyes. I was planning to give the stupid account to Josh as a peace offering. For us.”

She shook her head, more confused than ever.

“This is what you do,” he said, his voice tight with anger. “You sabotage your relationships so they’ll never work out. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Are you kidding me? You think you have me all figured out, Mr. I-Sleep-With-Every-Woman-I-Can-So-I-Don’t-Have-To-Commit.”

“You’re wrong about one thing,” he said, quietly. “I made a commitment to you.”

“I wished you’d never committed to me at all.”

His mouth dropped open. “You don’t mean that.”

“You are incapable of making a commitment, Noah McMillan, and I refuse to stick around so you play me for even more of a fool.”

He couldn’t have looked more hurt if she’d pulled out a gun and shot him. “My father was right,” she said, her voice breaking. “No man will ever stay with me. They lie to get what they want, and once they get it, they’re gone. I’ll save you the trouble of slamming the door in my face.” She grabbed the handle of her suitcase again. “I’ll just leave first.”

She rolled her case into the hall, fully expecting him to follow her, but he didn’t. Disappointment sucked the air out of her chest, making her light headed. What was she so upset about? She wanted him to leave her alone, right?

She hit the button for the elevator, silently pleading with him to follow her, to fight for her. To convince her she was wrong.

Then she heard him call out to her. “I thought you said you hadn’t seen your father since you were a baby.”

She turned around to see him standing in the hall outside their room. “I guess that makes us both liars.”

The elevator doors opened and she walked inside with her suitcase. When she turned around, Noah stood in the hall about thirty feet away. “Don’t leave me, Libby. Please.”

“Wrong answer,” she whispered. But damned if she knew what the right one was.

Then the elevator doors closed, Noah’s pain-stricken face disappearing behind it, and she felt more alone than she ever had in her life.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The elevator doors closed and Noah felt the bottom of his world drop out—the sucking void threatening to swallow him whole. Did he run after her? Did he let her go?

You don’t deserve her, the little voice in his head told him. You don’t deserve to win her back. This was how it was always going to end.

Somehow he found himself back in their room. The bed was made. The used towels replaced. All evidence of her was gone.

It was as though the last few days—the absolute best days of his life—had never happened.

He wasn’t sure he could go on without her.

What the fuck did he do?

Part of him was devastated that she thought the worst of him. He wanted to be angry that she didn’t trust him, but how could he blame her? She was right. He’d never told her about quitting. How had she even found out?

What did it matter?

She knew he’d kept something huge from her, so why wouldn’t she think he was cheating? The kicker was that he’d closed the deal. Scott jumped on board as soon as he listened to Noah’s spiel. Turned out the competition had flaked out anyway. Tiffany had ordered a room service lunch for her and Scott, and to celebrate, they’d opened a bottle of champagne. And then, much to Noah’s misfortune, Libby had arrived at the exact moment Scott was in the bathroom.

Would she have been this upset if she’d seen him? Maybe not, but he’d still kept the job situation from her.

The phone in his pocket vibrated and he pulled it out, praying it was Libby calling to tell him she’d changed her mind.

It was Tiffany.

“Noah, did you get the misunderstanding resolved?”

“No,” he said, his voice breaking.

“Would it help if I called her and explained?”

Would it? He shook his head even if she couldn’t see it. “No. I think it would make things worse.”

“I’m so sorry. I should never have called your room.”

He wanted to be angry with her, but he just couldn’t find the energy.

“Let me do something, Noah. Tell me what to do.”

“There’s nothing to do.”

“She probably just needs time to calm down. Then you can work it out.”

He wasn’t so sure that was possible. That look on her face . . .

“Well, congrats on the deal.”

“Thanks.” But now it was all for nothing. He’d mostly done it for Libby . . . and now she was gone. He knew he should be happy to have helped the business, but he couldn’t muster much emotion for that either.

He considered leaving—he’d found a flight to Seattle for that night—but what if she changed her mind and came back? So he didn’t leave the room for the rest of the night. He found her wedding dress in the closet, puddled on the floor. Hope rushed through him. She loved the dress. Maybe she’d come back for it.

He ordered room service in the evening and steadily drank all the bottles in the mini bar. By three a.m., he knew it was hopeless and passed out on the bed. When he awoke, she was the first thing on his mind. The wedding dress wasn’t next to him on the bed where he’d left it.

Had she come back?

He bolted upright and looked around the room, but the only thing he saw was the room service tray and half a dozen empty mini bottles of alcohol. The dress lay on the floor. He must have kicked it off in his sleep.

Libby was really gone.

He was back in Seattle by mid-afternoon and he headed straight to the office. Josh was sitting at his desk when Noah walked in.

Josh looked up in surprise, a grin spreading across his face. “What are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you for at least a few days.” His gaze took in Noah’s rumpled clothes and his smile faded. “Why do you look like death warmed over?”

Noah ignored him and tossed a file on his desk. “The Abrahams deal. Signed, sealed, and delivered.”

Josh sat upright and his eyes widened as he opened the folder. “How’d you pull this off?”

“What the hell does it matter? It’s all there. The payment schedule is worked out in there too.”

Josh started thumbing through the papers. “So do you want to handle this here or in K.C.? Megan said Libby was moving here, but I figured I’d check.”

Noah shook his head. “I’m not handling it at all.”

Josh pushed back his chair and stood. “Wait. You just got this account. Why wouldn’t you want to handle it?”

“In case you forgot, I quit last week.”

“But the deal . . . ?” Josh sounded confused.

“I got it for you. I thought I’d bring it in as a peace offering to get my job back, but now I don’t give a fuck.” He turned around. “Congrats.”

“Noah!” Josh called out after him, his voice worried now. “You look like you’ve been on a three-day bender. What happened?”

Noah spun around, furious. “As if you and Megan haven’t been laughing about it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Look, Megan and Blair made no secret of the fact they don’t approve, so I’m sure they’re happy that Libby left me.”

Josh’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in shock. “What? When? What happened?”

“What does it matter? She came to her senses. Everyone’s happy.”

Josh shook his head. “That’s not true, Noah. What happened?” His face went as pale as skim milk. “Oh, God. Megan. She told Libby about you quitting. She was upset you hadn’t told her.”

His chest squeezed tight with her betrayal. “Megan hates me that much?”

“No, Noah. That’s not it at all. She was just worried you two got married so quickly.” He held up his hands in defense. “And yes, I reminded her that she and I were married a hell of a lot faster.”

Noah found it difficult to breathe.

“But if Libby left you, where is she?”

The answer was obvious. She would have gone to the only place she would feel completely safe. The thought that he’d hurt her so much brought a lump to his throat he found difficult to talk past. “She went home to Tortoise.”

Josh blinked in confusion before recognition registered in his eyes. “Oh . . . her dog.”

He nodded, then turned to leave.

“Noah,” Josh called out in alarm. “Stop.”

He stopped in Josh’s doorway. Their receptionist’s worried glance reminded him that he looked like a mess. He’d slept in his clothes from the day before—the smell of Libby was still faintly in the weave of shirt, and he couldn’t bear to change. That was the last part he had of her and once it was gone, she would be lost to him forever. The thought brought him close to a breakdown, but he didn’t even care. Let them think the worst . . . they probably already did.

Josh grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the room, shutting the door behind them. He pushed Noah into a chair and then sat on the edge of his desk. “Noah, you have to go after her.”

His brother’s words broke down his last layer of control and his chest heaved as he struggled to keep it together. “She hates me.” He heaved out a shortened version of the story, then said, “I tried to tell her nothing happened between Tiffany and me, but she refused to believe me.” A sob rented from his chest. “I deserve it. After everything I’ve done, all the people I’ve hurt, I deserve every bit of it.” He looked up at Josh with tear-filled eyes. “She’s the one good thing in my life and I hurt her so badly. I don’t deserve her.”

Josh leaned toward him. “No, Noah. That’s not true. You deserve every bit of happiness and more.”

Noah gritted his teeth as tears spilled from his eyes. “If you knew everything I’ve done, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“The women?” Josh shook his head. “They were all consenting adults who knew what they were getting into. You never lied or led them on, Noah. I know you well enough to know that.”

Noah released a harsh laugh. “No, not the women.”

Josh was silent for a moment. “Are you talking about Dad?”

Noah’s eyes swung up to meet his brother’s as his heartbeat ratcheted up enough for him to hear it.

“I know you and Dad didn’t get along. I know I was his favorite. It made me uncomfortable that he gave me more attention than you, but you had Mom.”

Guilt clawed at Noah’s chest and some feral part of him decided it was finally time Josh knew the truth. Noah needed his brother to hate him as much as he hated himself. “I killed Dad.”

Josh stared at him like he was trying to sell him property on Mars. “Dad died of a heart attack here in the office while you were at school over a hundred miles away. You did not kill Dad.”

He shook his head, nearly choking on the bitterness in his heart. “I may not have been here, but I killed him anyway.”

“What in the world are you talking ab—” Recognition filled his eyes. “Dad never called you.”

Now it was Noah’s turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Dad told me about his visit to you at school. He was really upset that you were buying drugs for your ADD and he thought you were dealing too. He told me he’d changed his mind about making you partner and he wanted to give the whole business to me.”

“You knew? You knew he told me I was no longer his son?”

“He told you that?” Josh reached forward and grabbed his shoulder. “No. He never told me that part. Only that he’d discovered the truth. Oh God, Noah. I had no idea . . . otherwise I would have told you what happened when he came to me.”

“What are you talking about?” Noah choked out, pulling away from Josh’s comfort.

“Mom had already laid into him by then. I think he hoped I’d take his side, but Mom and I both told him off for guilt-tripping you about taking medication for a documented medical condition. Would he deny insulin to a diabetic? Mom told Dad he’d forced you into it.” Josh’s voice broke. “And I made sure he knew I didn’t want this business without you. It was the McMillan Brothers or nothing at all. I think he realized then what he’d done. He said he was going to call you and apologize. The morning he died, he told me that he had. He said he’d called and told you he was sorry and he’d taken it all back.”

Noah shook his head. “I had a voice mail . . . I discovered it after I found out he died.” His voice cracked. “I heard his voice and I deleted it. I couldn’t bear to hear him berate me from the grave.”

Josh took a deep breath, tears in his eyes. “Noah, he swore to me he apologized. He must have done it in the voice mail.”

Pressure built in Noah’s chest.

“If anyone is responsible for his death, it’s him. He didn’t exercise or take care of himself. Maybe when he realized how much he’d hurt you, his grief pushed him over the edge.”

Noah leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. Could that be true?

Josh put his hand on Noah’s back. “He said he was going to call you and apologize, and that was a full day before his death. I guess I got so caught up in my own shock and grief that I never thought to ask you if he had. Plus you never mentioned it, so I . . . I guess I thought it was resolved. And I didn’t want him to hurt you any more than he already had.”

It was all too much. Libby. His father. He jumped to his feet, intending to run far, far away—where didn’t matter—but Josh stood and pulled him into a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Noah. I see things a lot more clearly now and I’m sorry I’ve been such a prick. You really came through with this Abrahams account, even after I treated you like shit. For what it’s worth, your job would have been waiting for you whether you brought in the account or not.”

Noah pulled free and shook his head. “I don’t know what I want anymore. The one thing I wanted most in the world is gone.”

Josh grabbed his shoulders, his fingers digging deep. “She’s not gone. You just have to fight for her.”

“I still think she’s better off without me.” He turned around and opened the office door.

“You two are perfect for each other,” Josh said, his voice tight.

Noah turned to face him in disbelief.

“I saw it the night of my wedding. I know Libby was with Mitch, but she never looked as happy with him as she did when she was with you. Megan and Blair didn’t get it, and honestly, I never tried to explain it to them because I figured they’d amp up their campaign to warn Libby off you. But I could see you were meant to be. The day you told me she was engaged, I think you might have misunderstood my response. When I told you to examine your own life, I meant it was time for you to realize you loved her. I worried if I told you straight out, you’d resist it. So I kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry for that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “God, I’m sorry for a lot of things, Noah.” His voice cracked when he spoke again. “Can you forgive me?”

Noah stared at him dumbfounded. He had no idea Josh was willing to give up the business if he wasn’t included. He’d spent the majority of his life feeling like he was failing his brother; it never occurred to Noah that Josh felt the same way.

Josh pulled him into a bear hug. “I love you, Noah. You think you don’t deserve happiness, but you are so wrong. And besides, did you ever consider that Libby is probably telling herself the same thing? That you are the happiness she doesn’t think she deserves?”

Noah broke free, panic welling in his chest and making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to be that man for her, but he’d screwed up after less than twenty-four hours of marriage. A zebra couldn’t change its stripes. What made him think he could be any different? “No. I’ll only hurt her in the end. More than I already have, and I can’t live with that.”

He jerked the door open and strode though the office toward the exit.

“Noah! Where are you going?”

He had no idea. He found comfort that he and Josh were mending their relationship, but in less than two weeks, Josh would be gone. Libby had Tortoise to run to, but now that Libby was gone, he had absolutely nothing.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Libby! Open up,” Megan shouted. She and Blair had been pounding on the front door for several minutes, but Libby couldn’t bring herself to answer. Instead, she kept rubbing the head of her anxious dog. Tortoise—sensing her emotional crisis—had barely left her side in the week she’d been home.

“Libby, I know you’re in there. Please let me in.”

Megan was supposed to be in Seattle, so what was she even doing here? But she’d completely ignored her friends’ phone calls, so she wasn’t totally surprised.

There was more pounding, harder and more insistent this time. “Open the damn door, Libby St. Clair!” Blair shouted. “You live in the damn ghetto and I’m pretty sure I’m about to get shanked.”

“Blair!” Megan protested.

Libby climbed to her feet and moved to the door, Tortoise at her side the entire time. After releasing the deadbolt, she swung the door open, revealing Megan in jeans and a plum peacoat and Blair in her business attire—attaché case and all. This didn’t look like a friendly visit.

Blair’s mouth dropped open, but she quickly shut it and waved her hand in front of her face. “Good God. When was the last time you showered?”

Libby leaned against the doorframe. She couldn’t remember, but she didn’t really care. The yoga pants and T-shirt she was wearing had been intimate companions for several days now. “Go away, Blair.”

“Sorry, Libs.” Blair pushed past her and walked into the house. “This is an intervention.”

Tortoise hunched down next to Libby and released a low growl.

Blair stopped in her tracks. “Your new dog’s really friendly. Is it part pit bull?”

Libby’s shoulders stiffened. “He is a Lab mix. And you just pushed your way into my house. He’s protective.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing you have some sort of protection in this neighborhood.”

“What do you want?” Libby asked, already exhausted from this exchange.

Megan followed Blair inside, eyeing the dog. “Libs. We just want to talk to you.”

Ignoring them, Libby bent over and rubbed Tortoise’s head. “It’s okay, boy.” Then she stood upright and headed back to the sofa, where she plopped down next to her nest of pillows. “Let’s get this over with. Say whatever it is you have to say, then get the hell out. I’m sure you feel vindicated.”

Tortoise sat on the floor in front of her, keeping his gaze on Libby’s friends.

Megan shut the door and eyed the messy room. She opened the lid of the pizza box on the coffee table and cringed, then carried it into the kitchen. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“Obviously.”

Blair grabbed a kitchen chair and dragged it into the living room in front of Libby. “Sarcasm won’t help.”

“Nothing will help.” She hadn’t meant to sound so defeated, but it was true.

Megan sat in the overstuffed chair between Libby and Blair. “We’re worried about you. This isn’t like you.”

“You expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows? Sorry to disappoint you there too.”

“Libby,” Megan said apologetically.

“Enough,” Blair barked, pulling a legal pad and a pen from her case. “I’m here to get the facts. Are you legally married to Noah?”

“You saw the photo,” she sneered. “What do you think?”

Blair put the notebook on her lap. “From what little information Josh was able to get from Noah, you left him less than twenty-four hours after your wedding. Did you mail the marriage license to the courthouse?”

Libby stared at her in shock.

“Was there a marriage license?”

“Well, of course.”

Blair gave a half-shrug. “Not necessarily. If you were drunk, you might not have thought about it, although the chapels out there usually ask.”

Libby groaned and leaned her head back against the sofa. “I told you. We weren’t drunk. We were perfectly sober when we got married.”

“So what happened to the license? Did you take it?”

She sighed, thinking back to the best night of her life. How had it crashed and burned so quickly? “No, we didn’t take it. In fact, I forgot my dress there.”

“Your wedding dress?” Megan asked.

Tears filled her eyes. “No, the black dress Gram packed in my bag.”

“What black dress?” Megan asked, but then she shook her head and smiled. “She wanted me to pack that sexy cocktail dress she found in your closet. She must have snuck it in when I was grabbing your makeup bag.”

That and several other things she’d never needed. Tears spilled down her cheeks before she realized it. “I left my wedding dress in the hotel room in Vegas.”

“Oh, Libby,” Megan’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry I was such a bitch. I’ve been a terrible friend.”

“That’s not what we’re discussing at the moment,” Blair said in her no-nonsense voice, but she sniffed and kept her eyes down on her legal pad. “What was the name of the chapel?”

“Little Heaven. Why?”

Blair scratched notes on her legal pad. “I’ll have Melissa give them a call to see what happened to it.”

“Why?”

Blair looked up and gave her an exasperated look. “We need to file the annulment papers as soon as possible, although I suspect we won’t have grounds if you continue to insist you were sober. It could end in divorce instead, but given your career, it shouldn’t adversely affect you.”

“Annulment?” she asked in surprise.

“Libby. You’re here. He’s there. It’s obvious this is over. Let’s put an end to it as quickly as possible.”

“But . . .” How had she not considered the legal ramifications? Of course they needed to file for a divorce, but the thought had her on the edge of a panic attack.

“Do you have a physical address for Noah?”

“Why?” Her voice sounded as panicked as she felt.

Blair shrugged again, writing on her notepad. “It’s okay. I can use the address of their office in Seattle. It’s probably better to serve him there.”

“Serve him what?”

She looked up and rolled her eyes. “Divorce papers, of course.”

“But . . .” More tears fell.

Blair looked up and pinned her gaze on Libby, although Libby could barely see her through her tears. “Do you love him?”

“Blair,” Megan admonished as she sat next to Libby and pulled her into a hug. Megan stroked her hair. “Libs, do you love him?”

She nodded, breaking down into sobs.

“Then why are you here instead of Seattle?”

“Because . . . I’m so . . . stupid,” she forced out.

“What did you do?”

She took a breath to settle down. “I accused him of cheating on me.”

“What?” Blair demanded. “Is there something I don’t know?”

“Blair. Enough. We’ve caused enough damage,” Megan said softly, keeping her eyes on Libby. “Libs, what happened?”

“I started freaking out after you called me. It didn’t make sense for him to be in a business meeting if he’d really quit his job. There was a message on the phone in our room . . . from a woman. She called Noah by name and asked him to meet her in a hotel room. I freaked out and went to the room.”

“And?” Megan asked.

“A woman opened the door with a champagne glass in her hand. I thought I had gotten it wrong since she was fully clothed and so perky, but then she said something to Noah—calling him by name again—and I marched in and found him sitting on the bed drinking champagne.”

“Naked?” Blair asked.

She shook her head. “No. He had all his clothes on.”

“So what was his excuse?” Blair asked.

“He said it was a business meeting. He said he’d closed some deal for Josh. I accused him of lying, especially when he admitted that he’d slept with her before.”

Megan took her hand. “He was telling the truth about the business meeting. He was working on that deal for a couple of months and the whole thing fell apart on the Friday he was supposed to fly in for your wedding. Josh wasn’t very nice to him about it, so Noah quit.”

Libby’s chin quivered. She was such a fool.

“But that doesn’t explain why he didn’t tell you about quitting his job,” Blair pointed out.

“He said it was because of everything I was going through.”

A soft smile lit up Megan’s face. “He was thinking about you instead of himself. He was being selfless, Libs.”

“I know that now.” A sob broke off the last word.

“I was wrong.” Megan glanced over at Blair. “We were wrong. We couldn’t look past Noah’s history to see what was right in front of our faces.” She paused and squeezed Libby’s hand. “He loves you, Libby. I had no idea how much until I saw him yesterday. He’s a mess.”

“He is?” she asked, feeling guilty at the relief she felt over his pain.

“He knows he screwed up by not telling you about his job, and I’d bet my life that he didn’t cheat on you. He loves you too much to think about another woman.”

“I love him too.”

“Then what’s keeping you apart?”

Before her plane took off from Vegas, she’d realized how wrong she’d been. A small part of her hung on to the belief that Noah had cheated on her, but now Megan was bashing that belief to smithereens. It made her heart ache for him even more . . . all the pain she’d caused him. “I—I hurt him. I was horrible. He’ll never forgive me.”

“Do you know how he answered when Josh and I asked him why he wouldn’t just come talk to you?” She paused. “He says he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has.”

“You have a choice, Libby,” Blair said, her voice softer than before. “You can keep running away from love or you can live your life with a man you clearly love—a man who loves you just as much.” Her voice broke. “I almost missed that chance with Garrett, Libs. Don’t let Noah go. You’d regret it for the rest of your life.”

Megan squeezed her hand. “Libs, Noah is your soul mate. The man who showed up and saved you from the marriage you weren’t meant to have. You can’t give him up. He’s the man the fortune teller foretold. The one you’re destined to marry.”

She shook her head. “You don’t believe in the curse.”

Megan smiled. “Don’t you see? You’ve made us believers. We were just too obstinate to admit you were right. There is magic in the world.” Her eyes shimmered with tears. “What I have with Josh is magic, and what you’ve found with Noah is magic too. I mean, come on. Noah McMillan, confirmed bachelor, is holed away from the world because he can’t handle losing you. Who could have predicted that? You changed him, Libby. And he’s miserable without you.”

“She’s right,” Blair said softly. “What were the chances of me seeing Garrett before my wedding, let alone him being in the wedding party?” She leaned forward. “You spent weeks convincing us to admit the curse was real. It’s our turn now. Noah is the man you’re supposed to be with. Don’t throw that away.”

Libby started crying again. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say.”

Megan smiled through her own tears. “Go to him. I bet you don’t have to even say a word. Just show up and that will be explanation enough.”

“So?” Blair asked.

Libby nodded. “Yes. I’ll go.”

Megan beamed as Blair pulled an envelope out of her bag and handed it to her. “Then here’s a wedding present from me and Garrett.”

Libby opened it and gasped when she saw an airline ticket voucher. “This is for this afternoon.”

“Which is why you better get your sorry ass in the shower. I know the man loves you, but there is a limit to how much one person’s olfactory nerves can take.”

Libby launched herself at her friend, throwing her arms around her neck. “I love you, Blair.”

“I love you too.” Her voice broke. “Thanks for not kicking me out after being such a bitch. Especially given my bad-cop role in this part of the intervention. But Megan and I figured we needed to shock you into going to him.”

“How did you know it would work?”

“Because, if someone had suggested that I divorce Garrett after our first fight, I would have freaked out just like you did. I had to make sure you really loved him.”

Megan snorted. “Because the fact she looks like shit wasn’t proof enough.”

“And don’t forget the way she smells.”

Libby laughed. “Hey!”

“We’re so sorry, Libby,” Megan said. “You did everything in your power to help the two of us find the perfect partners and we let you down.”

“I still haven’t decided if I’m going to forgive you,” she said with a grin.

“Which is why I’m hoping your wedding gift from me and Josh will bribe us back into your good graces.” Megan gave a sheepish grimace. “We bought Tortoise a ticket to fly with you in the baggage compartment. He’s too big to ride with you.” She held up her hands when she saw Libby start to freak out. “It’s perfectly safe. I stopped at the pet store before we came and got the carrier they recommended for him to fly comfortably.”

Libby shook her head in shock. “Why would you do that?”

“Because Blair and Garrett got you a one-way ticket, and we know how much you love your dog.”

“You better get in the shower,” Blair said, sounding gruff. “Megan and I will start packing your clothes. I’ve paid for you to bring three bags and I figured you’d want to bring your camera equipment in your carry-on. You and Noah can come back and get the rest later.”

Tears flooded Libby’s eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

Blair swallowed, but a tear fell down her cheek. “Just promise you’ll come back to see us more often than Megan did before she married Josh.”

“We’ll probably be back for business.”

“Not necessarily,” Megan said, subdued. “Noah refuses to take his job back.”

“Oh.”

“Does that change anything?” Blair asked.

She shook her head. “No. I just need to get to him.”

Her friends pushed her toward the bathroom and she climbed into the shower. They kept barging into the bathroom to ask her which clothes to pack. Tortoise sensed something was up and began to pace nervously.

“Oh! Food for Tortoise!” Libby exclaimed once she was packed and ready to go.

“I know this may come as a shock,” Megan said. “But we have dog food in Seattle.”

Libby stuck out her tongue as she scooped some of Tortoise’s dry food into a Ziploc bag and slipped it into her purse.

“I think I’m ready.”

They rode to the airport in silence. Tortoise sat quietly by Libby’s side in the backseat of Megan’s old Explorer, eyeing the crate in the back with suspicion. He wasn’t very happy about getting inside the box when they checked him in at the airport, but Libby rubbed and kissed his head. “I’ll see you in no time,” she cooed. “And then we’ll go see Noah. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

She only hoped he’d be happy to see her too.

Megan and Blair walked her to security and they shared a moment of awkward silence.

Megan handed her a slip of paper and a key chain. “This is the key to my car. The lot where it’s parked is written on this paper. Take my car from the airport and I’ll pick it up later when I get home. The address is where you can find Noah. He’s not at his apartment.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s at his grandfather’s house on Bainbridge Island. My mother-in-law sent him out there to inventory the house and his granddad’s workshop. Something to keep him busy.” She paused. “She also said he used to love it there when he was a kid. I think she was desperate to do something to make him feel better. I saw him there yesterday, so I know he’s still there.”

“Thank you.” She stuffed the paper and the key in a pocket inside her purse.

“Oh!” Megan’s face lit up. “Have you heard from Gram?”

“No. Why?”

“She got married in Vegas.”

“She what?”

Megan grinned. “A hot yoga instructor from some class she took out there. Nana Ruby had to fly home without her. Knickers is fit to be tied.”

Libby laughed. She could only imagine. But it reminded her of her own situation. “I don’t even know if we’re still married. I don’t know what happened to the marriage license.”

A soft smile lit up Blair’s face. “You are. I called Melissa while you were in the shower. She just texted a few minutes ago that she’d gotten ahold of the owners and they mailed it in. Also they’re sending your dress and some wedding photos to my office.”

The wedding photos. Libby laughed. “If you look at them keep an open mind, okay?”

Shaking her head with a grin, Blair reached into her bag and pulled out a picture frame, then quietly said, “One more thing. I forgot to give you this.”

Libby’s throat burned when she realized what it was—a photo of the three of them at the carnival on the day they’d been cursed by the fortune teller. The three of them were hamming it up for the camera. They were happy and carefree and sure they’d have each other forever. She was with her two best friends, the only two people who had made her feel truly loved until Noah. It was so perfectly them.

Blair wiped a tear from her cheek. “The day this whole curse nonsense was born. I should have never doubted you, Libby, but you believed enough for all of us. Thank you for that.”

“We used to be inseparable,” Libby said, regret in her voice.

“We can be again,” Megan said through her tears. “Living in different states doesn’t have to change that.”

“We can Skype,” Blair said. “I do it for business. We can conference call.”

Libby nodded, then the brunt of her fear hit her full force. “What if I get there and he doesn’t want to see me?”

Blair smiled through her tears. “There’s only one way to find out. Go to him. But no matter where you go or what you do, know that we will always love you. We will always be your second home.”

“You need to hurry,” Megan said, pulling her into a hug. “They’re about to board your flight.”

She hugged them both again, then went through the small security line, ready to break down into tears again. She didn’t think she’d ever been so scared. Her entire life was about to be decided in a few hours and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it.

She took a deep breath and smiled to herself. She’d figure out a way to make him forgive her. She’d camp out on his doorstep if that was what it took.

They were meant to be together. She only hoped he believed that too.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Noah stood in his grandfather’s workshop, turning a piece of hickory wood over in his hand. When he was a kid, he used to spend weeks at a time here with his granddad. It was one of the only things that always set his hyperactive mind at ease. He knew that’s why his mother had sent him here. Her busy-work for him was a flimsy excuse. Not that he was complaining.

The peace this place usually instilled in him was elusive, but at least he felt a sense of belonging here. At the moment he’d take any kind of relief from his demons he could get. They were back in full force. The sense of worthlessness. The belief that he deserved all this pain and more. He knew Josh was concerned, but Megan’s visit the previous morning had caught him off guard. She’d shown up out of the blue with a bag of groceries and a six-pack of his favorite beer.

After setting the groceries on the kitchen counter, Megan had popped the top off one of the bottles and handed it to him.

“A little early for beer, don’t you think?” he’d asked as he took it from her.

“Never too early for a good beer. Besides, it’s nearly noon.” And she took out a bottle for herself too.

They ended up sitting on the back porch for about ten minutes, drinking their beers in silence.

He waited until he opened a second beer to ask, “Is this a peace offering?”

She turned the bottle in her hand, then set it on the arm of her Adirondack chair. “I screwed up, Noah. But I intend to make it right.”

He shook his head and sighed. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“She won’t take my calls. Or Blair’s. She’s alone and miserable. Go to her.”

He lifted the bottle to his mouth and didn’t set it down until he knew he could swallow past the lump in his throat. “She left me, Megan. She believes the worst of me.”

“She was just scared, Noah. You have to know that. She’s terrified you’ll break her heart.”

“I know. All the more reason to leave her alone. I’ll just hurt her again. It’s what I do.” He took another swig then, drinking down a large gulp.

“I don’t believe that.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done.”

“So how long are you going to stay out here?”

“I don’t know. It’s quiet. Lets me think.”

“About going back to work with Josh? Or about Libby?”

“Both.” Libby was an easy choice. He couldn’t have her, so it really wasn’t any choice at all. But the business was another matter. He couldn’t deny that he’d found a sense of accomplishment over the last few months, but he wasn’t in any shape to go back to work yet. He still needed more time to nurse his wounds. And he sure couldn’t handle going back to Kansas City, knowing Libby was there. He’d consider opening his own firm, but he would never want to be in direct competition with his brother, which left him where he was. Jobless.

“Josh and I are moving to Kansas City in a few weeks and I’d really like him to spend most of his time at home,” she said quietly. “Which means he needs someone to run Seattle. He wouldn’t be back much. The entire thing would be yours. Like it was supposed to be from the start.”

He turned to look at her.

She gave him a weak smile. “I’m not above begging. I want you to be happy, Noah, but I think working for the business does make you happy. It’s Josh’s micromanagement that drives you crazy.” She laughed and took a sip of her beer. “Yes, I know my husband very well.”

He grinned.

“So what I’m saying is, we can both get what we want. Josh will stay home with me in Kansas City with occasional trips to Seattle, and you can run the Seattle office with no interference. It’s a win/win, don’t you think?”

He sucked in a breath and blew it out. “I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Bullshit,” she said with a grin. “You handled it until Josh graduated from college. You just let him take over because you didn’t believe in yourself. But you are capable and we both know it. And I know someone else who believes in you too.”

His grin fell. “I don’t want to talk about Libby.”

“Fair enough, but tell me this: Do you love her?”

Tears filled his eyes, which pissed him off. He’d never been a crier before the last week. How did he answer that question? It was like she’d asked if he needed air to breathe, or water to survive. The answer was so obvious, yet a simple yes seemed so inadequate.

Megan stood. “Let me make you lunch.”

She made them sandwiches and helped him clean up the kitchen before she left. She pulled him into a hug after he walked her out to the car. “Don’t give up on yourself, Noah. And please don’t give up on Libby. She misses you just as much as you miss her.”

He’d spent nearly every minute after she left thinking about Libby and fighting his desire to run to her. The knowledge that he might never see her again was more than he could bear.

In addition to the stockpile of food Megan had left him, there was a bottle of champagne with a sticky note on it.

Save this for when you know it’s time to open it.

Fat chance of that.

Now here he was, a day later, still just as bereft, holding a piece of wood in his hands that begged to be shaped into something useful. It struck him that he had something in common with the block. This was how he’d been before meeting Libby—unformed. From the very beginning, she’d helped him determine what type of man he wanted to be. It might be too late for him, but he could shape the wood into something functional and beautiful.

He set the piece of hickory on his grandfather’s workshop table and examined the grain in the block. The day before he’d used the lathe to make a spindle out of a piece of pine. When he examined the piece of hickory, he could see the promise of a candlestick.

Then it hit him.

He could make the candlestick and give it to Libby as a peace offering. On the surface, it seemed lame, no contesting that, but if anyone would appreciate a handmade gift, it was Libby. And if he told her his analogy . . . maybe it would work. Besides, now he could tell her in person that he’d just gotten the results of his tests, and they had come back clean. Maybe that was reason enough to go to her.

At least it gave him the ghost of a plan.

He worked on it all afternoon and into the evening, fumbling a couple of times, but altering the shape enough to accommodate his mistakes. When he took it off the lathe, he decided it wasn’t half bad. He squared off the ends with a band saw and then sat in his grandfather’s chair. He was sanding the piece when he heard a dog bark.

He hadn’t seen or heard any dogs at the neighbor’s house, but he supposed it could be a visiting dog. He didn’t think much of it, until a large animal burst through the partially open workshop door.

He jumped in surprise and gasped. “Tortoise?”

The dog spun in circles with happiness, then put his front legs on Noah’s lap, begging for attention.

“How . . . ?” If Tortoise was here, then Libby . . .

She stood in the doorway, more beautiful than he remembered her. Her long hair was loose and wavy, skimming over the top of her breasts. She wore a green sweater paired with dark jeans that clung to her hips, and a pair of brown boots. He couldn’t believe she was there. How?

Megan.

He still sat in the chair, Tortoise excitedly licking his face. Without thinking, Noah nudged the dog down and stood.

Libby stayed perfectly still in the open door, worry in her eyes. “Noah, I’m so sor—”

He didn’t let her finish. He scooped her into his arms and kissed her hard. This had to be a dream.

When he lifted his head, tears streaked down her cheeks and fear filled his chest. “Lib, what’s wrong?”

“You still love me. I was so scared you’d hate me.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “Oh God, Lib. I could never hate you. Never in a million years.”

“I was so wrong. I should have trusted you.”

“Shh.” He kissed her into silence, his tongue seeking hers. Her arms tightened around his neck as he lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her across the yard and in through the back door, Tortoise following on his heels. He took her to the master bedroom and set her on her feet, cupping her face in his hands. “I never thought I’d see you again, much less touch you.”

“I was miserable without you, Noah. I need you.”

“I need you too.” He pulled her sweater over her head, then paused. “I got my test results today. I’m clean.”

“So no condoms?” she asked hopefully, giving him a sly look.

“No condoms. Thank God. I don’t have any here.”

They undressed each other, then made love in a combination of passion and reverence. Afterward, he held her in his arms.

“You were right,” she whispered.

His hold on her tightened. “Those are my second three favorite words,” he teased.

She laughed. “And your first three?”

“Hearing you say I love you.” He gave her a long leisurely kiss. “But what was I right about?”

“You said I was looking for an excuse to leave you first. My dad’s words were ringing in my head, and I wasn’t thinking straight.” She looked up at him. “I saw him when I was twelve. I never told anyone.” Then she told him about the horrible visit that left her more scarred than she’d realized.

“You kept that to yourself all these years.” His voice broke. “Oh, Libby. The man was a fool. You are the most lovable person I’ve ever known.” He cupped her face and kissed her again, then smiled against her lips. “I can’t believe you came back to me.”

“Blair and Megan helped me come to my senses.”

He chuckled. “Megan worked some of her wiles on me yesterday.” Then he realized how well his sister-in-law had orchestrated their reunion. “Wait here.” He stopped in the doorway and looked back at the most beautiful woman in the world, still in disbelief that she was naked in his bed. “Are you hungry?”

“Only for you,” was her husky response.

He felt his own body respond. “I plan to keep you very busy that way, but I’m talking about actual food.”

Her teasing fell away. “I only want you, Noah.”

“I’m all yours.”

He came back a few minutes later, grinning ear to ear. “Megan must have had a lot of faith we’d work things out.” He held a tray stacked with cheese, crackers, and fruit, along with two juice cups and the bottle of champagne. “She left a note saying I’d know when to use this.”

Libby sat upright in bed, letting the sheet pool in her lap, and the sight of her bare breasts was tantalizing enough for him to want to make love to her again. “She was always the one of us who was the most prepared for anything. Don’t let her innocent face fool you. She’s a schemer.”

He gave her a wicked look. “It’s the quiet ones that always fool you.” He popped the top of the champagne and filled the juice cups, handing one to Libby.

“Look at this,” she laughed. “Someone gave us champagne and I didn’t even have to wear my wedding dress.”

Her smile faded, and guessing the reason, he cupped her cheek in his hand. “I have your dress. It’s back at my apartment. I couldn’t leave it.”

She looked down at the tray on the bed. “Thank you.”

He lifted her chin and searched her eyes. “Promise me that you’ll never leave me again. I don’t think I could survive it.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Never.”

“And I’ll never leave you. It would be like ripping out my own heart.”

They made love again, this time more playful, and he marveled how every time seemed to be better than the last. Then they lay in each other’s arms and Libby told him about her friends’ intervention and how miserable she’d been without him. He told her about his talk with Josh and the possibility of taking over the Seattle office.

“What do you want to do?” Libby asked.

“I don’t know yet.” He looked down at her. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to be happy. Whatever that means.”

“I have to provide for us, Libby. I want you to focus on your photography.”

“You don’t have to provide for me. We’re partners. We’ll figure it out. Together. Okay?” she asked sleepily. He realized it was after midnight in Kansas City. No wonder she was tired.

He gazed into her eyes and kissed her softly. “I made you a present.”

That got her attention. “What is it?”

“I’ll show you tomorrow.”

She propped herself up on her elbow. “You can’t tell me that and expect me to wait. I want my present now, Noah McMillan.”

He leaned over and kissed her again. “I’ll give you anything you want, Libby McMillan.”

She grinned against his lips. “You’ll regret that promise.”

“Probably.” He grinned back. “But it’s worth it.” He stood and stepped into his jeans. “I need to take poor Tortoise outside anyway. Don’t fall asleep.”

But she was dozing when he got back, her hair spilled on the pillow behind her head. He stared at her for several seconds before she roused.

“Stalker,” she murmured.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he laughed as he sat down beside her, hiding the candlestick behind his back.

“Where’s my present?”

“Am I not present enough?” he teased.

“You’re everything I need, but you promised me a present. Where is it?”

He loved this about her. Her excitement over the littlest things. She made him feel that same giddy happiness. He had no idea how he’d gotten lucky enough to have her, but he would never deny his need for her again.

He fingered the grooves of the candlestick, suddenly nervous. “I made it for you this afternoon. I was going to bring it to you as a peace offering. I’m still rusty, so keep that in mind.”

“You were going to come to me?”

“I couldn’t live without you, Lib. Even if that makes me a selfish bastard.”

She grinned. “Then I’m a selfish bastard too.” She sat up, practically bouncing with excitement. “Now back to my present. You made it? Give it to me!”

He put it into her open hands. “It’s a candlestick. Like I said, I’m rusty so it’s a little uneven on the left—”

She kissed him and pressed the candlestick into his chest in her excitement. “You made this?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten. It’s even better than the one Blair gave me before I got on the plane, so that’s saying something.”

He wanted to ask what Blair had given her, but she distracted him with that beautiful mouth of hers. They showered each other with kisses, and he marveled that he could be so deliriously happy.

As he drifted off to sleep, her voice broke into his thoughts.

“Oh, my palm was right all along,” she murmured, half-asleep. “And I was scared I’d gotten it wrong.”

He roused awake, determined to never let her down again. “What did you see on your palm?”

“You. I was so worried it was someone else.” She looked up at him when he tensed. “I’ll explain it to you tomorrow. Just know that your candlestick is the most perfect present to chase away my last lingering doubt.”

“You still doubt us?”

She shook her head. “No. Not anymore. Just promise to love me even when the girls go south and we’re good.”

He smiled, kissing her forehead. “I promise to love you no matter what.”

It was the easiest promise he’d ever made.

Epilogue

Libby paced the floor of the New York art gallery, feeling like she was about to throw up. Her exhibit was opening in half an hour and she wasn’t ready.

Her husband’s arms pulled her back to his chest and his lips found her neck. “It’s going to be great, love,” he whispered in her ear. “Your exhibit is amazing.”

She laughed. “You’re just saying that because you’re in every single photo.”

He laughed with her. “Well, I’m sure having an amazing model helped.” He spun her around, looking down at her with so much love it sucked her breath away. “I’m so proud of you, Lib. You did it.”

“Only because of your encouragement.”

Garrett groaned. “Are you two newlyweds about to attack each other again? Because you have a room only a couple of miles away. Use it.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Noah laughed, keeping his arm around her back and tugging her to his side. “I just saw you feeling up your wife a few minutes ago.”

To Libby’s surprise, Blair blushed.

“Okay, okay.” Josh squeezed Megan’s hand as they walked toward the group. “We’re all newlyweds and we can’t keep our hands off each other. May we always be this way.”

“Hear, hear,” Noah agreed and motioned toward the entrance to the room.

A waiter walked up to Noah, carrying a tray of champagne. “As you requested, sir.”

Noah winked at Libby and she felt herself blush as he started to hand out the flutes. “I think all six of us have something to celebrate, so Libby and I thought it would be good for all of us to say what we’re grateful for.” He held up his glass and looked into Libby’s eyes. “Libby. I wouldn’t be half the man I am without you. Thank you for standing by me while I tried to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up.”

He’d struggled with his decision to stay in the office, but Libby had encouraged him to try, assuring him he’d have her full support to quit if he felt pressured or overwhelmed by Josh. But Josh had stuck to his promise to stay out of Noah’s office. He’d flourished in his position over the last couple of months. Libby was so proud of him, some days she wasn’t sure she could contain her happiness.

They’d moved into his grandfather’s house, and he spent part of his time in the workshop, creating things out of wood. She’d confessed her fear that her palm had said she would marry someone creative, and he’d told her that if woodworking wasn’t creative enough, he had all sorts of creative ways to make love.

“I’m so proud of you, Libby.” His eyes glistened. “You did it, baby. Even though I tease you about your success being linked to your ridiculously handsome model, this was all you. And it’s just the beginning of many great things.”

She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him, smiling against his lips before she lowered back down.

“I never would have finished if not for you. Not just because you were my model,” she teased. “But because quitting was never an option. You fed me, gave me coffee, and encouraged me when I was sure I’d never make the deadline. Thank you.” Tears filled her eyes. “I never knew I could be so happy until you loved me.”

Garrett coughed and said under his breath, “Get a room.”

The group laughed and Noah kissed her anyway. When he lifted his head, he shot his friend a grin. “Okay, hot shot. Your turn.”

Blair lifted her eyebrow in expectation.

Garrett’s grin turned mischievous for a moment, like he was going to make some sort of joke, but then he said, “I’m grateful for second chances.” He turned to his wife and held up his glass. “Blair, these last few months have been a whirlwind, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I can’t believe you’re mine after everything that happened, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He wrapped his free arm around Blair’s waist and pulled her in for a long kiss.

“Get a room.” Noah laughed.

The others joined him in laughter.

Blair blushed again, trying to regain composure. “I was going to say I was grateful for this ass—” Garrett leaned into her ear and whispered something that made her smile. “I’m grateful for my friends who tolerate my brisk behavior and love me anyway. And I’m also grateful for second chances. Both in love and in friendship.” Her gaze settled on Libby. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Libs.”

Libby smiled at her friend.

“My turn,” Josh said, glancing first at Noah and then at Megan. “I’m grateful that I sat down next to a drunk woman on a plane who told me her sad tale. And I’m so glad I took a chance and pretended to be her fiancé.” He smiled down at her. “I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

She looked up at him with adoring eyes. “Neither can I.”

Everyone clicked their glasses together and took a sip, with the exception of Megan, who had an ornery grin on her face as she held her glass in place.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” Blair demanded, her question an accusation.

Megan’s grin grew wider.

“Oh, my God!” Libby shouted. “Are you pregnant?”

Megan cringed. “I wasn’t going to say anything until after your exhibit, Libs. It’s your night, but Noah figured it out yesterday so this was all his idea. I hope you’re not angry. I didn’t want to take the spotlight away from you.”

“Angry?” She shook her head. “I’m going to be an aunt. A real aunt since you’re my sister-in-law now, not pretend like before. This is perfect.”

“Sure,” Blair said drily. “Rub it in.”

Megan pulled both of her friends into a hug. “I love you both the same. I want you both to be godmothers.”

“You realize this is the end?” Blair asked. “No more date nights. No more cute outfits. Nothing but sleepless nights and spit-up.”

Megan’s eyes filled with fear, but Libby squeezed her arm. “Don’t listen to her, Megs. It’s not the end. It’s just the beginning of something wonderful.”

Then she gave Noah a knowing smile as she held the glass of champagne she’d pretended to sip. It was a new beginning for both McMillan families.

And Libby had never been happier.

* * *

To find out about releases and get bonus content, sign up for Denise Grover Swank newsletter.

Continue the Wedding Pact series with THE VALENTINE, a Blair short story.

Then read Megan’s brother Kevin’s story.

Megan, Knickers, Libby, and Gram make appearances

ONLY YOU

(Bachelor Brotherhood #1)

June 14, 2016 eBook

October 2016 print book

Read the the first two chapters now!

The Valentine

The Substitute

Chapter One

Blair Hansen-Lowry stared at her client in disbelief.

“You never closed the toilet lid,” Allison DeSanto shouted across the conference table. “You caused me pain and suffering that I will never recover from.”

“Are you kidding me?” Marco, her soon-to-be ex-husband, shouted back. “I forgot to close the lid one time and you claimed you broke your tailbone, a claim that wasn’t even substantiated since you never went to the doctor!”

Blair pushed out a heavy sigh, rubbing her temple with her fingertips, and shot an exasperated glare toward Marco’s attorney, Dane Albright. Blair had spent her short career representing women who were divorcing assholes set on bilking them out of every dime they could get, but the more time she spent with Allison DeSanto, the more she wished she was representing the husband.

Allison started in on a new litany of perceived wrongs, but Blair had reached her limit. “Allison. Enough.”

Blair’s harsh tone drew a jolt of surprise from Dane, a man known for his steel edge.

Allison gave her a startled look, and her mouth dropped open. She obviously wasn’t used to being called out for her narcissism, which Blair suspected was the root cause of her impending divorce.

The sooner this settlement was agreed upon, the better, but they weren’t even close since Allison refused to budge on anything. The only reason Blair was even representing her was as a favor to her best friend Megan’s mother—a decision she’d regretted the minute Allison DeSanto had walked into her office.

Blair gave Dane a pointed look. “Can I have a moment with my client?”

Dane pushed his chair back, shaking his head. “You can have as many moments as it takes.” He lifted his eyebrows to help convey his meaning.

“If you want to wait in the client lounge, I’ll let you know when we’re ready,” Blair said. But it was wasted breath. Both men were already out the door.

Blair picked up her phone and called her assistant. “Melissa, will you meet Mr. Albright and Mr. DeSanto in the lounge and make sure there’s a fresh pot of coffee? We’re all going to need it.”

She cast a glance to her client, who was already on her phone, tapping away on the screen.

“Of course,” Melissa said. “But before you hang up, Garrett called for you.”

“Oh?” Blair couldn’t stop the smile that curled her lips. She probably didn’t deserve that man, but she loved him more than she could have imagined. She’d only been married for six months, but she was happier than she’d ever expected. Especially since Garrett wasn’t the man she’d originally intended to marry. “He didn’t try to call my cell or text me.”

“He knew about your meeting and called me instead so he wouldn’t disturb you. He said for you to call him back whenever you can.”

Blair knew she shouldn’t be talking about personal matters in front of her client, but Allison was thoroughly engrossed in some text conversation. And from the wicked gleam in her eyes, she was probably sexting her new boyfriend.

One more reason to regret taking this case. Damn Megan’s mother and her country club friends.

Blair glanced at the clock on the wall. “Garrett’s supposed to be getting on a plane in the next half hour.”

“I think it’s been delayed,” Melissa said.

Blair tried to ignore the churning in her stomach as she hung up. Flights were delayed all the time. It was no big deal. Garrett would still make it back by tonight. Besides, they didn’t do Valentine’s Day. For their first and only Valentine’s Day together while they’d dated, they’d celebrated Anti-Valentine’s Day, doing the exact opposite of all the poor fools who fell for the commercially generated holiday. They’d played arcade games and ate pizza at a Chuck E. Cheese, and then he’d taken her to the roof of his apartment building and showed her the star he’d bought for her, which he’d named Blazing Supernova. And while they hadn’t specifically made plans for their first married Valentine’s Day, Blair had decided to come up with her own—Anti-Valentine’s Day 2.0.

“How much longer will we be here?” Allison asked, her attention still on her screen. “I have plans tonight.”

Irritation rippled through Blair. “Perhaps if you would act like a grownup instead of a spoiled child, we could be done by now.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

“The purpose of this meeting is not to air every single grievance from your two years of marriage. It’s to go through the list of your joint property and come up with an agreement on the division of your assets.”

Allison gave Blair a full pout. “Like my ass, which is one of my better assets.”

“I would hope it would be your brain.”

The woman blinked.

“Allison,” Blair said with an exaggerated sigh. “Let’s just stick to the list of things you haven’t agreed upon yet and try to come to a resolution for each one. And remember, this is supposed to be a fair distribution.” This was so outside the realm of Blair’s usual cases. Most of the time she was fighting tooth and nail for everything she could get for her client. This was the first time she felt obligated to encourage a client to not insist on everything. Now she knew how most of the attorneys she faced felt.

“Fine,” Allison said in a huff. “I need to go to the restroom.”

“You know where it is. I’m going to go check my messages.” Blair left the irritated woman and went down the short hall and around the corner at a fast clip.

Melissa was sitting at her desk, staring at her computer screen. She glanced up as Blair approached, giving her boss a sympathetic look.

“How’s it going in there?”

“It’s a freaking disaster,” Blair whispered. “She’s the poster child for entitlement.”

Melissa tilted her head with a smirk. “She is a product of the country club.”

“Don’t remind me. We’re taking a short break, and then we’ll try again. I’m going to call Garrett. Did you check on poor Mr. Albright and Mr. DeSanto?”

“Not yet.” Melissa’s face puckered. “And poor Mr. Albright, my ass. Dane Albright irritates the crap out of me. His head is so big I have no idea how he carries it around. He must do some impressive neck exercises at the gym.”

Blair grinned and lifted an eyebrow. “You think he goes to the gym?”

Her assistant’s face flushed. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me,” Blair said. “I guess I’m too busy looking at Garrett.”

Melissa stood. “You might be married, but you’re not dead—and you don’t have to pretend like you are for Garrett’s sake. Since when does your world revolve entirely around anyone else’s?” Then she stomped off toward the client lounge.

Blair watched her for a moment, wondering why Melissa had gotten so irritated. Was she insinuating that Blair had changed since she’d gotten married? Just because she chose to focus on her own husband and didn’t drool over other men’s sculpted bodies didn’t mean she’d gone all soft…did it?

The question nagged her. Before Garrett, she’d been known for her tenacity and her ferociousness. She’d seen fear in men’s eyes when she’d met them in the conference room or in the courtroom. But marriage had softened her. Garrett had softened her. She’d dismissed it in the beginning, but six months after their honeymoon, she knew it to be true.

Blair had lost her edge.

And that scared the crap out of her.

She entered her office and sat at her desk, pulling up her emails as she called Garrett.

“Hello, beautiful,” he answered in that husky voice that sent her pulse racing.

“Why aren’t you boarding a plane?” she asked, trying to focus on her computer screen. All she could think about were the promises contained in his sexy voice.

“My plane’s not in yet. It’s still stuck in Chicago. Something about a snow delay.”

“But you’re in San Diego.”

“I know, but I hear Chicago got six inches last night.” He laughed when he heard her snicker. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Blazer. I know what you’re thinking with my six inches remark.”

She grinned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m never impressed until we’re talking nine.”

“I miss you.” His voice was low and seductive, but his tone changed, no longer light and honeyed but suddenly heavy and deep with mournful longing.

She found herself struggling to respond. “I miss you too.”

“I never want to be gone this long from you again.”

“It’s only been four days,” she protested, more to appease her own anxiety. She’d missed him more than she’d expected—more than felt safe—and it scared her.

“Four days too long,” he said, his tone blunt. He knew her too well.

She cleared her throat, sensing the need to change the topic before her emotional security crumbled. “I take it your early morning meeting went well.”

“It did. Barton changed his mind and agreed to all the terms,” he said.

She could hear the pride in his voice. He’d quit his practice in San Diego and moved to Kansas City to open a practice with Blair, but he’d agreed to handle a few open cases he’d been working on before he moved. “How’s the settlement meeting going?”

“Allison DeSanto is a disgrace to womankind. She’s the opposite of every other client I choose to represent.”

“Then dump her, Blair. You don’t have to retain her. I know the money looks good, but we’re doing pretty well, considering our law practice is so new. You’ll find other cases.”

“It’s not about the money,” she snapped. She instantly regretted it. For one, it was partially about the money—Allison’s mother was writing large checks to pay for her legal fees—but more importantly, lashing out was her go-to defense when she felt uncomfortable, and poor Garrett had seen more than his fair share of it lately. She’d never been happier, yet she still held him at arm’s length. And the closer they grew, the crankier she got. “I’m sorry. I haven’t slept well since…”

“Since I left?” he asked quietly, without gloating. “There’s no shame in admitting that you love and miss me, Blair. We’re married. It’s kind of expected.” He hesitated. “You’ll never guess what happened after my meeting. When I called my old boss and told him the good news about settling, he offered me an insane amount of money to come back to work in San Diego.”

Her heart seized. Did he want to go? He never would have left San Diego if it weren’t for her.

“And what did you tell him?” Blair asked, keeping her voice as even as possible.

“What do you think I told him?” he asked, sounding surprised. “I told him no. Our practice is in Kansas City.”

This discussion caught her so completely off-guard she didn’t know how to react. She refused to stand in his way if that’s what he wanted. “You don’t have to stay here, you know. We could have a long-distance relationship. People do it all the time.”

He was quiet so long she was sure he’d hung up, until he said, “I would like to believe you didn’t mean that.”

His voice was so cold it frosted the surface of her heart.

Clearly, he didn’t want a long-distance relationship, which both eased her mind and made her even more anxious.

“You know we could use the money.” Oh, God. Why did she say that? Why was she pushing him away? All she could think about was how much of a bitch she’d been to him lately, and she wouldn’t blame him for wanting to leave her. Maybe this was his way of saying he wanted out.

Melissa appeared in the doorway. “Blair, I hate to interrupt, but Ms. DeSanto…” The look on her face warned her it wasn’t pretty.

“Garrett…” She cleared her throat. “I have to go.”

“Blair, wait.”

“I don’t have time for—”

“You can wait ten fucking seconds. It’s my office too. I know how it works.” He sounded so pissed that a lump filled her throat.

She started to protest. Garrett was pushing too many buttons, and she felt the strong urge to retreat and hole up behind the protective wall she’d erected. The one Garrett had taken down brick by agonizing brick. Now she had a hole large enough to leave her exposed and vulnerable, two things Blair Hansen never let herself be. Her anxiety skyrocketed.

She wasn’t used to needing someone—to counting on them to be there. She kept waiting for the rug to be pulled out from underneath her. Maybe this was it.

But Garrett remained silent, making her even more anxious.

“Well?” she said, sounding short. “I gave you ten seconds, and now we’ve used up five.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” The defeat in his voice sent a jolt of panic into her heart. He paused for several seconds before he finally said softly, “I love you.”

She’d screwed up. Why couldn’t she be like normal people who were in love? Why did she have to be such a bitch to him? Garrett understood her better than anyone ever had. Loved her despite all her porcupine tendencies. He’d been patient, but he needed more from her.

“I love you too,” she told him softly, already regretting her temper.

But Garrett had already hung up.

Chapter Two

Garrett stared at the phone in his hand, his heart heavy. He’d known the woman he married. He’d known her fears and insecurities. Hell, if he were honest, he’d added to them when he’d hurt her nearly six years ago. When they had gotten together in law school, he’d walked out on her when she needed him the most. He’d left a scar so deep, some days he wondered if she’d ever recover. He’d let her temper chase him away before and had vowed not to let it happen again. He’d erected an internal buffer to withstand Hurricane Blair, but Hurricane Blair had been making appearances more and more frequently lately. He swore to batten down the hatches and ride out her storms, but damn, some days it was exhausting.

He never should have told her about the job offer like that, so out of the blue and catching her so off guard, but he’d scrambled for something to say when she refused to admit she’d missed him. Too bad he’d chosen a topic that had made things even worse.

Garrett called the restaurant where he’d made the Valentine’s Day dinner reservations for that night and asked if they had anything later in case his flight got into Kansas City too late. He knew she hated Valentine’s Day, but it didn’t feel right not celebrating it with her since it was their first as a married couple. But to help with the surprise, he planned to get her a gift card to Chuck E. Cheese as her gift. If he got home in time to buy it.

“We’re sorry, Mr. Lowry. We’re completely booked. It is Valentine’s Day, you know.”

“I know,” he grumbled, releasing an exhausted sigh. Like Blair, he hadn’t slept well the last few nights either. He’d missed Blair. He’d missed lying with her in the middle of the night. He’d missed touching her soft skin. He’d missed kissing her senseless right before he took her, plunging deep as he watched her tilt her head back in satisfaction. He missed talking to her about the little things that no one else gave a shit about, yet she did, listening to every word. And he missed waking up with her next to him, her blonde hair spilled around her head, making her look like an angel even though she was a gladiator when she was awake.

But he was becoming more and more convinced that she didn’t miss him. That she didn’t need him the way he needed her.

He’d always been the aggressor in his past relationships, if he could actually call what he’d had with his many women relationships. But even with Blair, he’d been the aggressor until he had her. And then he was content. Content to build a life with her. A life she seemed to progressively resist and resent.

He was beginning to feel like a yoke around her neck, not a partner to share her life with, and he was at a loss as to how to deal with it.

He told himself that Valentine’s Day wasn’t the day to address it. Then again, maybe it was. Blair hated anything and everything to do with Valentine’s Day. What better day to ask her if she was happy with their marriage?

Because above all else, Garrett wanted her to be happy.

Even if it wasn’t with him.

His phone rang and his heart leapt. Blair. But he felt like a fool when he saw it was his sister’s name on the screen instead.

“Hey, Kelsey.”

“What’s got you so down, little bro?”

“Who says I’m down?” he asked, stretching out his legs in the chair at the airport gate where he was sitting.

“Please, you sound like someone kicked your puppy.”

“I’m fine.”

“Never try to bullshit a bullshitter.”

He laughed as he sat up. “How’s the baby?”

“Nice change of subject.”

“Hey. What’s so wrong with Uncle Garrett asking about his favorite niece?”

“She’s your only niece. And Addie is perfect. Of course. She’s finally sleeping through the night.”

“You said you were going to change her daycare. Did you find one?”

“Damn,” she said. “You really don’t want to talk about what’s bugging you, huh?”

“I’m sure you had a reason for calling that was about something other than my personal issues.”

“And here I thought you were a narcissist.” She teased, but her voice had an edge.

“So what’s up?” Garrett asked. Since he’d gotten married and come back to Missouri, he’d begun talking to his sister more often, but they rarely talked during the day. “Why aren’t you at work? Is Addie sick?”

“No, Addie’s fine.”

“I know it can’t be you. You never call in sick.”

“No one’s sick, Garrett!”

While she could be cranky, something in her tone alerted Garrett that he wasn’t the only one who had issues. He had a feeling she had called about something important. But his sister was notorious for not sharing anything in her life. He would need to warm her up a bit first.

“Okay…what do you want to talk about?” he asked. “Can you believe that Mom made turkey and dressing casserole and tried to call it Christmas dinner? Thank God Nana Ruby was there to save the day.”

“I’m pregnant.”

He remained silent, unsure of the appropriate response. But she was silent too, making it glaringly obvious that she expected him to say something.

“Who’s the father?” he blurted out, then he cringed, waiting for her attack.

“Drake, of course. God, Garrett.” The tears in her voice softened her anger. “I just took a pregnancy test. Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me.”

“I didn’t think you two were together.”

“It’s complicated.”

She’d been seeing Drake on and off again for three years. As far as Garrett was concerned, the only complication he could see was that she hadn’t cut him loose yet. “What do you want to do? You have options.”

“I don’t know.” She sniffed. “Yesterday I got offered a promotion. My timing sucks.”

“Your pregnancy should have no effect on your promotion, Kelsey, and if it does, we have legal recourse.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. The job’s in Kansas City.”

He grinned. “That’s great. You’ll be closer to me.”

“Drake says he won’t move, and he claims I can’t take Addie from him.” She took a breath. “A new baby will only make everything worse. Why am I such an idiot?”

He wanted to go off about how worthless her boyfriend was, but he knew she’d hang up if he did, so he forced a short chuckle that sounded false to his ears. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No. And the fact you’re not answering shows me how much of an idiot I really am.”

“You’re not an idiot, Kelsey,” he said quietly.

“Then why do I keep going back to that man?”

“I don’t know. Do you love him?”

“I thought so, but this last year…honestly, I would have dumped his ass if not for Addie, but he kept telling me he wanted to be part of her life, throwing it in my face that I’d be depriving my daughter of a father if we aren’t together. And you and I had Dad…” Her voice trailed off. “I already fucked up getting pregnant as a single mother. I didn’t want to take Addie’s father from her.”

“Last we spoke, you said he was trying to help more.”

“I lied,” she sighed in defeat. “He’s never paid me one dime of child support, not that he had a job to pay it with. He’s been living here at the house. Last week I worked late one night and asked him to put the dishes in the dishwasher.” She paused. “He threw a glass across the room at me.”

He froze, sure he heard her wrong. “Did it hit you?”

“I have five stitches on my forehead,” she said sheepishly. “I told my coworkers I ran into a door.”

Garrett jumped up from his chair and began to pace. “God, Kelsey. You’ve told me all about his chronic unemployment, but you never once told me he was violent. Never.”

She remained silent.

Concerned she’d hang up if he lashed out, he took a deep breath and counted to five, until he was a little calmer. “Before this glass incident, had he ever hurt you? Was this the first time, Kelsey?”

“He’ll try to take Addie. I can’t lose her, Garrett. And now I’m pregnant and he’ll try to take this baby too.”

That was answer enough.

She started to cry, and his stomach twisted. The last time he’d heard her cry was when they were kids.

He slipped into attorney mode. “Is he living with you now?”

“I told him to leave, but he won’t.”

“Is the mortgage in just your name? Or is it in his name too?”

“Just mine.”

“Do you want to work this out with him?” He hoped to God she said no. He understood the complexities of why women stayed with abusive men, but he never imagined his older, stronger sister falling into this trap. Yet his experience as a divorce attorney had demonstrated that no woman could be helped until she was ready to accept that she needed it. And only Kelsey could come to that decision.

“No,” she said quietly. “What if he hits Addie? He already gets short with her if she cries too much.”

Garrett clenched his fist and then unclenched it. “Has he hurt Addie? Kels, has he hurt my baby girl?”

“No.”

“You’re sure? You’re not covering for him?”

“You think I’d let him hurt Addie?” she asked in disbelief.

“I know how this works, Kels. It’s not a reflection on you or your parenting. It’s a slow build until you’re left wondering how you got there. It starts off with yelling—everybody yells, right? There’s nothing wrong with yelling. It’s expected. But then it’s a shove. What’s a shove? Nothing really. Or a tap with a foot. It wasn’t a kick. Then the next thing you know, he’s slapping, then punching. And then you’ve reached the point where you’re wondering how in the hell you got there, and you can’t figure out how to escape.”

She was sobbing now.

“Kelsey, I’m your escape plan. Let me help you.”

“I’m so ashamed, Garrett. I’m a professional. I make six figures. How the hell did I get here?”

He walked over to the windows, lowering his voice. “No, Kels. No judgment from me or anyone who cares about you. It happens to all sorts of women—income has nothing to do with it. I just want to make sure you and the babies are safe.”

“But Addie…he’ll try to take her.”

“I’m damn good at what I do, and don’t forget Blair. We’ll both take your case, and by the time we’re done with him, he’ll be sliced to ribbons.”

“But we’re not married.”

“And thank God for that. But if what you say is true, you’ll have a custody case on your hands. We’ll fight the bastard for all we’re worth. Blair loves Addie. She’d sooner fight Drake in hand-to-hand combat than let him have custody of her.”

“Blair could probably take him,” Kelsey said, laughing through her tears.

“Damn right she could.” He paused and turned his gaze to an overhead TV showing a nationwide weather map. “Listen, I’m in San Diego right now, but I should be home tonight as long as the snow storm in the east doesn’t keep delaying planes. You need to get out of the house until we can get the locks changed and notify the sheriff.”

“I can’t do that, Garrett. It’s embarrassing.”

“Would you rather he hurt Addie?” It was a low blow, but he knew she’d protect her daughter before she protected herself.

“No, of course not! I just want to be reasonable about this.”

“Kelsey, take a step back and look at it from my perspective. You’re living with a man who hasn’t held a full-time job for longer than six months in the last five years. He completely lives off you, except for when he’s out screwing someone else. He offers absolutely no help with the household responsibilities, and he hurts you both emotionally and physically. Do you think you should let him live in your house with your baby?”

“Where will he go?”

“Not your problem.”

“But—”

“You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.” He paused. “When does the new job start?”

“In a month.”

“Did you turn it down?”

“Not yet, but—”

“If Drake weren’t in the picture, would you take it?”

“Yes. In a heartbeat.”

“Then take it and see how soon you can get here.”

“But I have to pack and—”

“I’ll help. We’ll help. We’ll find you a place and we won’t tell Drake where it is. You’ll get through this, Kelsey. We’ll help you. You deserve better.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

He forced a laugh. “I’m going to bask in this moment.”

“Thank you, Garrett.”

“For tonight, either stay in a hotel or go stay with Nana Ruby.”

“I can’t stay with Nana Ruby.”

“I think she’ll be more understanding than you think. She loves you too, Kelsey. She’s likely to kick Drake’s ass before I can get to him.”

“You wouldn’t kick his ass.”

“I most certainly would. But while I’d love nothing more than to punch his pretty face, I think my legal maneuvers will be much more effective and longer lasting.”

“I didn’t expect you to solve this, Garrett,” she said quietly. “I only called for advice.”

“You’re the only one who can do this, Kelsey, but I’ll be there to support you every step of the way.”

She was quiet for a moment. “You never said what was bothering you.”

He released a short laugh. “Trust me, my issues pale in comparison to yours.”

“Great,” she said. “Now I’m a poster child for issues. Come on, Gar, make me feel better about my problems. I don’t want to be alone.”

He groaned. “Fine, it’s Blair.”

“What about her?”

“I think she regrets marrying me.”

Kelsey gasped. “How can you say that? She’s crazy about you.”

“She loves me but on her own terms. She doesn’t mind when I leave town, and she doesn’t act like she misses me at all. I jokingly told her that my boss offered me my old job back, but instead of laughing, she suggested I take it.”

“She was probably joking.”

“I can assure you she wasn’t.”

Kelsey sighed. “We both know Blair’s not like other women.”

“I know, and trust me, I love that about her. But would it kill her to admit she needs me?”

“She just needs time.”

“What if that’s not it?” he asked. “What if she’s decided she’s made a mistake and doesn’t want to be married anymore?”

“I don’t think she’s thinking anything along those lines, Garrett. I know she loves you. It’s so obvious she does.”

”I know. I know she loves me. I love her too. But sometimes I ask myself if love is enough.”

“You’re asking the wrong damn person, bro.”

Chapter Three

Melissa stood in the doorway, worry wrinkling her brow. “Blair, are you okay?”

Blair stared at the phone in her hand. Call him back. Call him back and tell him you don’t want him to move back to San Diego.

“Blair?”

She sucked in a breath and pushed it out, forcing herself to compartmentalize her situation to the back of her mind. She had a settlement to work through. Business came before personal life.

But how could she continue on as though nothing had just happened? She reexamined the conversation, coming to the conclusion that she had overreacted. That’s right. Blair Hansen-Lowry—the woman known for her nerves of steel—had overreacted.

“Is Garrett okay?” Melissa asked.

“What?” Blair shook off her daze. “Yeah. His flight was delayed. Something about a snow storm in Chicago.”

“All sorts of flights are being canceled. Good thing the storm isn’t hitting us.”

“Yeah,” Blair said absently.

“But he should be home in time to celebrate your first Valentine’s Day together since you married.”

“You know we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.” She knew she sounded more terse than she intended. She rubbed her temple. “Melissa. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”

Melissa walked into her office. “You know what I think?”

Blair shook her head. “What?”

“I think you could use a lunch with Megan. Want me to see if she’s available? Around one-thirty?”

Ordinarily Blair would be pissed if anyone suggested that she needed to talk to someone, but Melissa knew her well, having figured her out soon after she’d started working as Blair’s assistant. And Blair really needed to have an honest heart-to-heart with one of her two best friends. “She might have plans.”

“There’s only one way to find out. You go in there and deal with Allison DeSanto, and I’ll call Megan. I’ll text you if I get something set up.”

“Thanks.” She stood and took another deep breath and exhaled, then smoothed her skirt. She needed to get her shit together.

Allison was in the conference room, raging about the temperature of the water in her glass.

And that was about all that Blair was going to take from her today. Blair placed her hands on the conference room table and leaned forward, staring her client in the eye. “Ms. DeSanto, do you really feel so entitled that you are actually complaining that the temperature of your water is off by two degrees?”

She lifted her chin. “Hardly. I said it was off by ten degrees.”

Blair held her gaze, ready for a staring contest if necessary. “You do realize there are villages in Africa that have no running water? That children are forced to walk miles each way—every day—to get buckets of water and haul them back to their homes?”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t happen anymore.”

“It most certainly does.” Blair stood up and closed the door, then sat in the chair next to her client. “Allison, why are you so wrapped up in this petty shit? Why? Who cares who gets the toaster?”

Pain flickered in the woman’s eyes before she lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “It’s robin’s egg blue and toasts four slices.”

“You can get another one just like it at the Target down the street. Why are you doing this?”

The woman didn’t answer.

“When you came to me, you told me you were sure Marco had cheated on you, though you had no proof. Yet when I suggested a private investigator, you refused. Why?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t see the point.”

“So you’re doing this to make him pay for cheating when you’re not even sure he did?”

Tears filled her eyes.

“What’s the real reason you want to get divorced?”

“Why does anyone get divorced?”

Why, indeed. Blair, however, was not about to tackle this question, not right now, after her argument with Garrett. Safer to focus on Allison DeSanto’s crippled marriage.

Blair was usually good at weeding through the bullshit and figuring out the underlying reasons a woman was filing for divorce, but every time she tried to figure out what made Allison tick, she hit a wall. Surely Allison couldn’t be that shallow. Then again, her parents had taught her to enjoy all the finer things in life. They had doted on her every moment of her life and she had never lived without them.

Maybe Allison was that shallow. “I’m not asking why divorce happens. I’m asking why you want a divorce, Allison.”

Anger filled Allison’s eyes. “It shouldn’t matter to you why I’m getting divorced, only that I am. Can’t you handle the simple job of dividing my assets? I thought you were supposed to be good.”

Blair’s back stiffened. “I charge by the hour, Ms. DeSanto, so if you want to drag this thing on forever, be my guest. But believe it or not, there are women out there with real issues. After thirty years of marriage, their husbands have left them for newer versions and want to leave these women absolutely nothing. Or you might have a woman with two kids whose husband beat her, yet he’s put everything in his own name, leaving her with absolutely no money or resources to escape.”

Allison looked straight ahead, her chin quivering.

Blair tapped her nail on the table, studying her client. “I’ll continue this settlement meeting, but I need to know what you want.”

“I want everything.”

“Given that there’s no proof he cheated on you or harmed you in any way, that’s not realistic or fair to him. You’ll need to be more specific about the things you want.”

“I want the house.”

“Then you have to give up an amount of assets equal to his half of the house, and frankly, I’m not sure there are enough assets to cover it.”

“Then make it happen.”

Blair groaned. This was going to be a long day.

She stood and opened the door, then walked into the client lounge. “I think we’re ready to continue.”

“Is she willing to negotiate with my client?” Dane asked.

Marco crossed his arms in a show of nonchalance, though his face betrayed his anxiety, and Dane flashed him an arrogant smile, signaling his premature confidence.

“I guess we’ll find out.”

But an hour later, they’d made little progress.

As Allison hemmed and hawed over who got the dining room furniture—piece by piece, down to the furniture polish—Blair looked out the glass conference room wall and was relieved to discover her friend Megan standing by the door. Megan gave her a wave, then gestured toward Blair’s office.

Blair nodded and looked at her phone. “It’s one o’clock. If we want to continue with this, I think we should take a lunch break.”

Dane rolled his shoulders and sighed. “I was hoping to wrap this up sooner rather than later.”

Blair glanced at her petulant client. “I think most of us were.”

Allison scrunched up her nose. “I think we should keep going.”

“Some of us actually like to eat,” Marco said with a bitter tone. “I might even go out for a heaping plate of spaghetti.”

Allison put her hand on the table and narrowed her eyes at her husband. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“We never ate carbs when we were together. I’ve been eating them every day since the day I left.”

Allison stood and glared down at him. “I never told you that you couldn’t eat carbs, Marco! I was the one who couldn’t eat carbs!”

He stood and shouted, “I never said you couldn’t eat carbs! What made you think you couldn’t eat them?”

“Because they put five pounds on my hips! Last summer you told me those white shorts made me look hippy.” She shook her head, her face turning red. “You can go eat all the spaghetti in Italy for all I care.” Then she stomped toward the door.

“Two o’clock?” Blair asked Dane.

He gave a sharp nod, then looked up at his client for acknowledgment, but Marco’s gaze followed Allison down the hall.

“Did you really tell her that her shorts made her look hippy?” Blair asked before she could stop herself. Talk about unprofessional.

“Yeah…I guess.” He looked confused. “But she’d asked.”

Blair tried to stifle her groan. Men.

She hurried down the hall and found Allison by the exit. She glanced back at Blair with a tear-streaked face.

“We’ll start again at two,” Blair said, then lowered her voice. “Did he talk to you like that throughout your marriage?”

Allison looked confused. “Like what?”

“Did he make references to your weight?”

Allison’s chin quivered. “I don’t know, Blair. I don’t know. Leave me alone.”

She spun around and walked toward the staircase, bypassing the elevator.

Maybe there was more to this divorce than Blair realized.

She passed Dane and his client on their way out, then found Megan sitting on the edge of Melissa’s desk.

“Blair.” Megan stood and offered her a bright smile. “We haven’t seen each other since we were in New York for Libby’s photography exhibit, yet we only live like five miles apart. We need to see each other more often.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Well, I’m here now, and I’m starving. Where are we eating?”

Blair gestured toward Megan’s stomach. “You’re the one who’s pregnant. Are you craving anything?”

It was still hard for Blair to think of her practically lifelong friend as pregnant—either of her friends. They’d both announced their pregnancies at Libby’s exhibit weeks before.

Megan’s eyes lit up. “Bacon cheeseburgers.”

“Your baby’s into junk food? Already? I thought they saved that for the teen years.”

Megan laughed. “Don’t judge. Just feed me.”

“There’s a place around the corner that will take care of your craving.” Blair shot a glance to Melissa. “Would you like to come?”

“We’d love to have you,” Megan said.

Melissa smiled. “Thanks for the invite, but I have too much work to do. I’d love a rain check, though.”

Blair started to protest, but Melissa shook her head. “You two go. You need this.”

Megan gave Melissa a wave as she and Blair walked out of her office and toward the hallway.

“So other than your cravings for high-fat red meat, how else are you feeling?” Blair asked, grinning.

“Remarkably good. No morning sickness at all.”

“I hear the same can’t be said for Libby,” Blair said. “I called her a few nights ago, and Noah said she couldn’t even come to the phone.”

Megan grimaced. “She’s been really sick. Noah had to take her to the hospital for dehydration.”

Blair stopped in front of the elevator and hit the down button, worry washing over her. “Is she okay? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t tell me either. Josh found out about it when he and Noah were talking about some business project in Seattle. It’s pretty bad when you find out your best friend had to go to the ER from your husband, who found out after he talked to his brother. These guys are notorious for withholding information, but I hardly expected it from Libby.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell you?” Blair asked. “You two are going through this pregnancy together, and besides, you’re sisters-in-law now.”

“Libby’s embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? Why?”

“She’s worried she’s already failing at motherhood.”

“Already?” Blair asked in disbelief. “She’s barely pregnant, and besides, she’s going to be an amazing mother.”

“You know Libby,” Megan said as the elevator doors opened, and the two women stepped inside. “She’s full of insecurities when it comes to her parents. She’s terrified she’ll fail because of her role models—or lack thereof, I should say.”

“That’s ridiculous. Libby is one of the most giving people I know, and giving’s like the core of motherhood, right? Which is why I’ll never be a mother. I can’t even give Garrett what he needs.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “Are you and Garrett having problems?”

“No.” Blair paused. “I don’t know.”

Megan was surprisingly quiet during the short walk to the restaurant. When the waitress came to take their drink order, Megan ordered her bacon cheeseburger and a water, then turned to Blair. “You ready to order?”

Blair laughed. “I haven’t even had a chance to look at the menu yet.”

“How hard can it be? You always order a salad.”

She did always order a salad. Was it because she was like Allison, worried that Garrett wouldn’t love her if she gained weight?

No, Garrett wasn’t like that. He loved her, and his love wasn’t dependent on her hip size.

“That’s an awful lot of thinking over a salad,” the waitress said.

To hell with it. “Give me a cheeseburger too.”

Megan laughed in surprise.

“And we’ll both take French fries,” Blair added. “And a side order of onion rings.”

The waitress walked away, and Megan covered Blair’s hand with her own. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Do you have plans tonight for Valentine’s Day?”

Blair laughed, but it was hollow. “We don’t do Valentine’s Day, remember? It’s a commercial holiday.”

“Then why do you sound irritated that you don’t have plans?”

Blair rested her face in her hands. “I don’t know. That’s what has me screwed up. I hate Valentine’s Day, but I want Garrett to want to do something anyway. How stupid is that?”

“While I agree it’s a commercial holiday, it is a day to show the person you love how much you care about them. There’s nothing wrong with wanting Garrett to show you that he loves you.”

Blair shook her head. “Garrett isn’t the problem. I’m the problem.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t give him what he wants.”

“I don’t believe that. That man loves you. Look at everything he did to stop your wedding to Neil. You are what he wants.”

Blair leaned closer. “He told me his old boss offered him a lot more money to return to San Diego.”

Megan held her gaze for several seconds. “Does he want to go back to San Diego?”

“He says he doesn’t…”

“You don’t believe him?”

“Why did he bring it up?” Blair asked.

Megan shook her head. “Maybe because he was honored and flattered that his old boss wanted him back so much and he wanted to share it with his wife.”

Blair groaned. “I’m such an idiot. I told him to take it and go without me. But I don’t blame him if he wants to. I’ve been impossible to live with since Christmas.”

“Oh, Blair.” Megan was silent when the waitress brought their drinks, then sighed when she walked away. “Did you ever stop to think you’re more like Libby than you’ll admit?”

Blair’s back stiffened. “Libby and I couldn’t be more different than night and day.”

“That’s a crock of bullshit if I ever heard it.”

“How can you seriously call us alike?”

Seriousness washed over Megan’s face. “You both think you’re unlovable.”

Blair rolled her eyes. “What psychobabble are you talking about?”

“Blair, come on. Why did you tell Garrett to go to San Diego?”

“I don’t know!” she said defensively and then shrugged. “I don’t want to be his anchor.”

“His anchor? Why would you be his anchor?”

“Look, Megan,” Blair said. “You and I both know I’m impossible to live with.”

“And yet Garrett’s in the thick of it with you. He knew exactly who you were when he tried to win you back and when he married you. He knew exactly who you were when he decided to leave San Diego and start a practice with just the two of you. Some would even argue that’s more of a commitment than marriage.”

“It’s not called the honeymoon period for nothing, Megan. The magic is over and reality has set in. Maybe the shine of living with me has rubbed off. Can you honestly tell me you and Josh are all sunshine and roses? At least Garrett and I had been together for a year. You knew Josh four days before you married him.”

Blair expected Megan to get upset—wanted her to be so she’d back off—but she gave Blair an expressionless stare. “Go on. What else?”

“What else what?”

Megan rested her forearms on the table and clasped her hands. “Keep lashing out, Blair. That’s what you do when someone starts getting close enough to make you feel vulnerable. But guess what? Josh has made me more confident about who I am. So take your best shot, because the tougher your barbs, the closer we get to the heart of the matter. I’m your best friend, Blair. I’ll go to hell and back for you, so bring it.”

Blair’s mouth dropped open. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I’ve done a lot of soul searching. I’ve figured out why I dated guys who cheated on me. Now you need to figure out why you keep pushing away the people who love you.”

“You’re full of shit, Megan.”

Megan winked. “That too. Pregnancy hormones are notorious for constipation.”

“TMI, Megs,” Blair said, shuddering.

“Nice try. I’m still going to make you face your demons.”

“Wrong holiday,” Blair said dryly.

“Just don’t push Garrett away. He loves you, Blair. Why can’t you just accept that he loves you?”

She shrugged at Megan, offering a weak smile, as if to say I don’t know. Although the question wasn’t really if she could accept that Garrett loved her. She knew he did. But would this be enough for them?

Chapter Four

“Now boarding flight 265 to Denver,” the overhead speaker blared.

Garrett looked at his watch for the umpteenth time, then leaned back his head and breathed a sigh of relief, his anxiety dropping a level. Finally. He was going home. Just a short stop in Denver and then he would get home and could make everything right with Blair. He’d hoped she would call him back, but it had been radio silence. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. They weren’t a clingy couple, but he couldn’t shake the feeling something big was on the horizon and it made him nervous as hell. He needed to convince her he wasn’t going anywhere as long as she wanted him, because after pouting for two hours, he’d realized she was pushing him away because she was scared.

She’d done it before and he’d let it destroy them.

He wouldn’t let it happen again.

He’d left her alone, but now he thought that had been a mistake. He tried to call her one last time, but the phone went to voice mail. “Blair, I’m finally boarding my flight to Denver. My connecting flight from Denver to K.C. has also been delayed, so I think I’ll be able to make it.” He handed his ticket to the gate attendant and started down the tunnel to the plane. “I can’t wait to see you, Blazer.”

The flight to Denver was smooth, but the plane got stuck on the tarmac and he missed his connecting flight. When he deplaned, an airline employee was waiting at the gate with new tickets, but his new flight was taking off in twenty minutes, which meant he had to sprint to his gate. He barely made it, plopping in his seat as they closed the cabin door.

He pulled out his phone to call Blair, but the flight attendant shot him a glare.

“Sir, turn your cell phone off.”

He gave her a grim smile and sent Blair a quick text before he stuffed his phone into his pocket.

I made my flight to KC. See you soon.

* * *

Blair had hoped the lunch break would help Allison put things in perspective, but she seemed even more confrontational.

After an hour of getting nowhere, Dane closed his laptop and gave Blair a pointed look. “It’s obvious we’re not going to come to an agreement. We’re just wasting our time. We’ll just let the court decide this.”

Blair shot Allison an exasperated look, then turned back to Dane. “If you could give me a moment with my client…”

“We’ve given you several. What’s the point of giving you one more? Besides, it’s four o’clock. Let’s just call it a day.”

As the afternoon had worn on, Megan’s lecture had sunk in, and Blair realized how right her friend had been. But as Blair watched Allison become more and more resistant, she wondered how much of Megan’s lecture actually applied to her client.

“Please,” Blair pleaded. “We might settle more than you think.”

Dane cocked his head to the side and released a groan. “I’ll give you five minutes, but if your client doesn’t start budging drastically when we reconvene, we’re done.”

Blair nodded. “Agreed.”

Dane and Marco stood and left the room, closing the door behind them.

Blair swiveled in her seat to face her client. “Allison, you told me you were certain Marco was having an affair. Why were you so certain?”

Allison stiffened. “I just was.”

“You were married two years. When did things start to go wrong?”

“Right away.”

Her response came so quickly and effortlessly, but there was something about Allison’s expression that made Blair doubt her. “Are you sure about that, Allison?”

Allison shrugged. “Okay, maybe a year ago.”

Blair realized she needed to adopt a different tactic. “What made you fall for Marco?”

Some of the tension eased from Allison’s shoulders. “His smile. He just looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. And he made me believe that I was a…”

“That you were what?”

She looked up at Blair with tear-filled eyes. “That I was a good person.” She laughed, but it was bitter. “That’s stupid, right? I did a lot of bad things in high school and college. Things I can’t take back.”

“Oh, Allison.” How did this happen? How could two people start out so happy and then end so unhappy? “We all do stupid things. But we learn from them. We grow up.” Blair gave Allison a smile. “Marco wasn’t from your group of friends, right? He didn’t know you when you were that person.”

Allison looked down at her lap and nodded. “Yeah.”

“He brought out a different side of you, and you liked who you were with him.”

She looked up, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Yeah.”

Blair’s throat tightened. If Allison could have her happily ever after and lose it, what guarantee was there that the same wouldn’t happen to her? But she had to know the rest of the story, no matter how scared she was to hear it. “What happened? What made things fall apart?”

“I kept waiting for him to leave me.” She wiped her cheek. “I got tired of waiting.”

Blair closed her eyes and rubbed her left temple. This was so damn familiar it burned. “So you pushed him away.”

She nodded, her tears flowing. “I guess so. First I tried to change myself, eating like a bird, sexy lingerie…I even got new boobs.” She thrust out her chest. “But then, I stopped eating celery and carrots and I gained a few pounds and I felt ugly. I stopped wearing the lacy bras and panties and started acting cold and bitchy so he wouldn’t want to see me naked. I started picking fights, and pushing him away…” She released a tiny sob. “Until we ended up here.”

“Do you still love him?”

Allison broke into a sob. “I’ve been so awful to him. He’ll never take me back.”

The truth was, Blair couldn’t be sure. Maybe Allison had pushed Marco too far. Maybe it was possible to push a person so hard, so far away, that they never come back. But how could she tell Allison that?

“You’ll never know until you try.” She leaned forward and caught Allison’s eyes. “I’m going to send him in here, just the two of you, so you can talk things over.”

“My mother will kill me. She never wanted me to marry Marco.”

“Allison, you have to live your own life.”

“She’ll cut me off. If I stay with him, I’ll be poor.”

“Then I guess you have to decide whether you want love or money. But if you decide you want the money, then give him a break and stop fighting him.”

Allison nodded, her tears still falling.

“How about we call it a day and give you time to decide?”

She shook her head. “No. I know what I want to do. Can I talk to him?”

“I’ll see if he’s willing.”

Blair got up and left a still-crying Allison at the table. Dane and Marco were in the client lounge, grabbing their coats.

Dane grimaced. “Sorry, Blair. We’re calling it.”

Blair ignored him and turned to his client. “Marco?”

He turned to her in surprise. “Yeah?”

“Allison would like to speak with you privately.”

Dane scowled. “Is this some kind of manipulation tactic to get him to give her what she wants?” He glanced back at his client. “I should be in there with you.”

“Marco,” Blair said. “Do you still love her?”

“I object!” Dane shouted.

Blair groaned. “We’re not in court, Dane.”

“Your client filed for divorce. Your client has wasted our time all day. My client owes her nothing.”

“I’ll do it,” Marco said. “I’ll talk to her.”

Dane glared in Blair’s direction and then as Marco started to walk past him, he grabbed his client’s arm. “I strongly advise against this, Marco.”

“I know.” Marco looked into Blair’s face. “But I want to hear her out.”

He walked out of the room, his body tense with his anxiety.

Dane started to follow him, but Blair grabbed his arm as he moved past her. “He agreed to a private meeting, Dane,” she said.

Dane narrowed his eyes, shaking off her hand. “What are you up to, Hansen?”

“She still loves him.”

Dane snorted. “What happened to you?”

“I got married.”

Before Garrett, she would have forged on, convincing Allison to come to some kind of agreement. She’d been right—Garrett had softened her. He’d made her a better person.

Dane rolled his eyes in disgust and stormed out into the hall, Blair on his heels. He stopped in his tracks, seeing Allison in Marco’s arms.

“Dammit, Hansen,” Dane growled. “This case is finished, isn’t it?”

“I hope so. They still love each other.”

Dane laughed. “Don’t be so naïve, Blair. Love doesn’t solve everything.”

Blair sure as hell hoped he was wrong.

Chapter Five

It was another half hour before Allison and Marco left together, the hands laced together as they walked out. Dane left soon after his client told him the divorce was off. Blair saw them all out, then returned to find Melissa smiling ear to ear.

“What?” Blair asked.

“You. You fixed them, Cupid.”

“Cupid?” Blair’s back stiffened. “I hate Valentine’s Day. I would never play Cupid.”

“But you fixed them.”

“No. They fixed themselves. They just needed a little push.”

She had left her phone on her desk, so she grabbed it and checked for any calls from Garrett, hoping he’d caught a flight in Denver. She’d missed his call telling her his flight had finally taken off, but now she saw his text. He’d caught his flight. Which meant he’d be landing anytime now.

If she wanted to follow through with her Anti-Valentine’s Day plans, she need to get busy. “Melissa, why don’t you head home?”

She sat up, looking startled. “But it’s not even five yet.”

“Don’t you have any Valentine’s plans?”

Melissa released a bitter laugh. “Hardly.”

Blair studied her. “You never date. Don’t you want to find someone?”

“When the time’s right, I’ll know it, and now is not that time. Nor is there a right guy,” she said, shutting off her computer monitor. “But you don’t have to coerce me into leaving. Did you hear from Garrett?”

“He’s on a flight home now, and should be landing anytime.”

“Well, then you better get going too.” Melissa grabbed her purse out of her desk drawer and stood. “You want to be home when he gets there.” She grinned over her shoulder as she headed down the hall. “Even if you don’t celebrate V-Day.”

“Melissa?” Blair called after her.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for bearing with me and my surliness.”

She grinned. “Hey, you royally ticked off Dane Albright. That makes up for a lot of cranky attitude.”

Blair laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”

She watched Melissa leave, then decided to take her advice. She’d planned on surprising Garrett with an Anti-Valentine’s Day, so she called in a Chinese takeout order. They could snuggle up on the sofa and eat Chinese food while they watched a horror movie on Netflix.

She let herself in the condo and called out Garrett’s name. It only took a few moments to realize he wasn’t home yet. She set her keys and the bag of food on the kitchen counter, feeling unsettled by the silence. She’d missed him more than she’d expected, and she planned to tell him as soon as he came home.

She checked her phone for messages. Nothing.

Then again, she’d trained him to not check in regularly. She didn’t need to know what he was doing every minute of the day, and she didn’t want to answer to him either, even if they shared an office and knew what each other was doing most of the time anyway.

Still, something felt off…not quite right. Their earlier argument had left her unsettled, and she attributed her uncertainty to that.

To help herself relax, she opened a bottle of wine and poured a glass, then sat down on the sofa and turned on the television. After her day, what she really needed was to watch something mindless. She spent the next hour flipping channels, growing more and more anxious that he hadn’t come home yet. His flight should have landed nearly two hours ago.

Maybe he’d decided not to come home. Maybe she’d pushed him too far.

Her stomach clenched, but she told herself to relax. Garrett was coming home. His flight from Denver probably got delayed too, and that was easy enough to find out.

She grabbed her phone and found the itinerary he’d emailed her before he left, then pulled up the airline’s website and plugged in the flight number—delayed.

Well, that explained it. He was probably stuck in Denver. So why hadn’t he called her? And why had he sent that text saying that he was boarding his plane and that he’d see her in K.C.?

Maybe he’d changed his mind.

She knew the idea was ridiculous even as it popped into her head, yet once it was there it continued to mushroom out of control. Garrett was the committed one in the relationship. She was the one with the issues.

But what if he’d gotten tired of her brick wall and decided he’d had enough? The quip for him to take the San Diego job was too much for anyone to take. Even Garrett.

She poured another glass of wine and started zipping through channels again. She flipped past a national news channel but turned back when she realized the images on the screen were of an aircraft in flames.

“…again we have confirmed that there are casualties,” the newscaster said in a grave voice. “But we have no confirmed numbers. To recap, Western Airlines Flight 756, originating in Denver and headed to Kansas City, made an emergency landing at Topeka Regional Airport at approximately 5:38 Central Time. The flight crew had informed air traffic control of a reported engine failure and requested an emergency landing. Air traffic control diverted the plane to Topeka, where it touched down, then skidded off the runway and burst into flames. We know that at least fifty passengers have made it off the plane, many with injuries, but we have no idea how many are still on the plane. Once again, Western Airlines Flight 756 has crash-landed at the Topeka Regional Airport.” The newscaster paused, pressing his earpiece into his ear as he listened. “Authorities are now confirming that there are ten casualties and that twenty passengers are unaccounted for.”

Blair stared at the TV in shock, dropping her wine glass onto the hardwood floor. The glass shattered, splashing Blair’s feet with wine.

Western Airlines Flight 756 was Garrett’s flight.

She picked up her phone, her fingers fumbling to pull his number up on speed dial. After five attempts, she finally got the call to go through, only to have it immediately go to voice mail.

Some rational part of her brain told her to remain calm. Freaking out wouldn’t do any good, but she had to look at the facts. If Garrett were in a plane crash, his first plan of action would be to call her and reassure her that he was okay. If the plane crashed shortly before six, he’d had over an hour to call her.

Oh, God.

She tried calling him again, chanting to herself, “Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up,” and then released a cry of anguish when the call went to voice mail again.

What should she do?

Think, Blair. Now is not the time to panic. Call the airline.

It took three times to pull up the airline’s website and find a number to call, only to be placed on hold by the automated system.

“You’re expected wait time is ten to fifteen minutes,” the recorded voice said in a soothing tone.

“I don’t have ten to fifteen minutes!” Blair shouted into the phone as her tears broke loose. She considered hanging up, but she had to know—one way or the other.

But sitting on hold wasn’t enough. She had to do something else.

Then it hit her—call the Kansas City airport from the home phone while she was on hold with her cell phone. Jumping off the sofa, she stepped on a piece of broken glass with her bare foot. She fell forward, pain shooting through her foot, and landed on her hands and knees. Then she looked back at the insole of her foot; a half-inch piece of glass was sticking out of the sole of her foot, blood oozing around it.

She lifted her gaze to the TV, taking in the raging fire on the screen. That was Garrett’s flight. What if he hadn’t made it out? What if he’d been injured a hundred times worse than her foot? What if he was on the burning plane and was never coming home? She thought of his body, mangled and bloody, and her sobs broke loose.

Their last conversation had been that stupid argument over his job offer. She’d been in such a damn hurry to get off the phone. But why? Because she wanted to prove she didn’t need him? That she could live without him? She’d lived without him for five years after they’d broken up and proved that she was capable of it. She knew without a doubt that she could live without him now. The difference was she didn’t want to. He’d given himself to her, mind, body, and soul, and still she’d held back. Scared to death she would lose him and she’d lost him anyway. And now he’d never know how much she loved him.

She laid her head on the floor, sobbing, still holding the phone in her hand, barely hearing the crap hold music.

The music stopped and she tried to pull herself together to ask questions, but the automated voice took over. “Your wait time is now estimated to be eight minutes.”

Eight minutes to find out her entire life was over.

“Blair?” she heard Garrett say, worry heavy in his voice.

And that was when she knew she’d lost it. She was hallucinating.

* * *

Garrett pulled into the parking lot, grabbed his two bags out of the backseat, and headed for their condo. While he was worried about how their talk would go, he was ready to take it head on.

But before he put the key into the lock, he heard Blair’s sobs through the heavy metal door.

Blair never cried.

Panic shot through Garrett as he dropped his bags and unlocked the door, and he was terrified anew when he found her sprawled on the floor, sobbing.

“Blair?” The combination of finding her hysterical, broken glass around her and a small puddle of blood at her feet scared the shit out of him, and his imagination went to ugly places when he let himself consider what might have put her into this state.

“Garrett?” she asked in a desperate whisper, looking up at him through the hair that had fallen into her face.

“Blair.” His heart squeezed. “Why are you crying?”

She clutched his arm and sobbed harder. “How are you here?”

“I live here, remember?” he tried to tease, but it came out flat. He scooped her up into his arms, intending to set her on the kitchen counter so he could look her over, but she wrapped her arms so tight around his neck he knew she needed to be held. Glass crunched under his shoes as he walked to the opposite end of the sofa and then settled her sideways on his lap. “Blair, what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry I’m such a bitch.”

“Shh…” He’d never seen her like this, and it scared him. “Stop. I love you, Blair.”

Her hold tightened. “I thought you were dead,” she cried into the nape of his neck. “Your plane crashed.”

“What? No, Blazer. We landed just fine. Why did you think that?” He glanced toward the television, his chest tightening when he realized what he was seeing. Images of a burning plane filled the screen along with Western Airlines Flight 756 Crash on a banner at the bottom.

“Why didn’t you call me?” she sobbed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were okay?”

She sounded so pathetic, his heart cracked into pieces.

He was supposed to have been on that flight. He swallowed his shock. But Blair needed him to be calm. He stroked the hair from her face. “Blazer, I missed my original flight, so I took another one. When I landed, I came straight home.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“I barely made the new flight, and I tried to call you, but the flight attendant told me to turn off my phone. So I snuck a text to tell you I was coming home. I didn’t think to tell you it was a different flight.”

Her sobs quieted, but her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath. “Because you thought I didn’t care?”

Her question caught him off guard. “No, I didn’t think it mattered because it wasn’t getting in much later than my original flight from Denver. It had been delayed too. And I didn’t answer because my phone died. But I was almost home anyway, so I didn’t stop to get a charger cord.”

She started crying again. “I thought I lost you, Garrett.”

He cupped the back of her head, searching her eyes. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She kissed him with a desperation that surprised him, tangling a hand in his hair while she reached for the button on his shirt.

His body ignited, and his hold on her tightened until he remembered how he’d found her. “Blair. Let me look at your foot.”

She shook her head no and captured his mouth again, her tongue searching out his.

He gently grabbed her wrists and pulled back. “Blair. I need to see your foot. You’re bleeding all over the sofa.”

She looked down at the bloodstained fabric. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care about the damned sofa. I care about you.” He stood and carried her into the kitchen, setting her on the counter as he’d originally intended. “Let me take a look.” He lifted her foot, cringing when he saw the jagged glass sticking out of her skin. “I think you should go to the E.R. You probably need stitches.”

“No. Just take out the glass, and we’ll put some gauze around it.”

She sounded more like herself, and he worried she’d close herself off even more now that she’d laid herself so bare. That was what she did. Offer herself however briefly, then retreat and run. Maybe she’d continue to expect him to give up on her, but every step forward was a victory, no matter how small, and he wasn’t giving up. He was there for the long haul.

“Blazer, this needs stitches. You need to go to the E.R.”

She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him close. “I need you.”

She lifted her mouth to his, and he responded, dropping her foot and wrapping his arm around her back. He pulled her body flush with his, leaving no question about how much he wanted her, but he still needed to take care of her injury.

“Your foot first,” he said against her lips.

“No E.R.,” she murmured.

“Okay.” He forced himself to step back. Vulnerable Blair was still there, and he had to make sure she didn’t misunderstand his intentions. “But I get to play doctor before I ravage you.”

She sucked in a breath, her chest rising and falling. “Yes.”

He took another step back, trying to clear his head. The sight of her breasts stretching her blouse nearly made him forget she needed medical attention. “I need to get the first aid kit.”

Before she could stop him, he ran for the bathroom, grabbed the white plastic first aid box and hurried back to the kitchen. He stopped at the entrance as he saw the television screen. Blair was watching it too, tears filling her eyes again.

He grabbed the remote off the table and turned it off, then tossed it onto the sofa. He stared into her tear-streaked face. “I wasn’t on that plane. I’m here with you now.”

“You were supposed to be,” she whispered, sounding scared.

“But fate intervened, just like it intervened when Nana Ruby insisted I be a groomsman at my cousin’s wedding.” He stepped between her legs and cupped her cheek, tilting her head back to look up at him. “We’re meant to be together. Don’t you get it, Blair? We’re meant to be.”

Her chin quivered as she nodded.

He worked quickly on her foot, flinching with her when he pulled out the glass. The cut was deep, but she insisted she wouldn’t go to the hospital, so he closed it up with butterfly bandages, hoping to convince her later. After he’d wrapped it with gauze, he washed his hands and then got her a couple of ibuprofen and a glass of water.

“I think you’re going to need these,” he said.

She took them without complaint, then set the glass on the counter. “I need you more.” Her voice broke again as she tugged him closer, reaching for the buttons on his shirt.

“I’m yours, Blair,” he said with a ragged breath. “I’m always yours.”

He leaned down and kissed her gently, cradling the back of her head in his hand. He wanted her to know how precious she was to him.

But Blair had other ideas. She deepened the kiss, her tongue searching out his as she continued to unbutton his shirt. Then she pulled the shirt free from his pants. Her hands skimmed his chest, sending a bolt of electricity through his blood and straight to his groin.

Her mouth broke free from his and skimmed down his jaw, along the taut tendons of his neck, and down his chest. His hands rested on her waist, then slid up and under her breasts, his thumbs brushing her nipples over the lace of her bra.

She released a low moan as her teeth raked over his nipple.

“Bed. Now,” he grunted as he slid his hands underneath her ass, lifting her so she straddled his waist. He stopped and searched her face. “How’s your foot? You okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Garrett.”

A grin spread across his face. “Gladly.”

Chapter Six

He was her miracle. A miracle she didn’t deserve, yet she claimed it anyway. He carried her into their bedroom, kissing her so thoroughly she had no idea they’d even reached their destination until he lowered her gently to the bed. She lay on her back, her head on her pillow, and she stared up into his face, amazed at the love and adoration in his eyes.

“What did I do to deserve you?” she asked breathlessly.

“You’re mine, Blair. Forever mine.” He straddled her waist, putting his weight in his knees. His hands made quick work of the buttons on her shirt before he lowered his mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses to the edge of her bra cup. “Try as you might, you can’t drive me away.”

“Why?” she asked, close to tears again. She’d never felt so raw and exposed. “Why would you put up with me?”

“Put up with you?” he asked, sounding incredulous. He lifted his head to look into her face. “Blair, I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, even if only for a second. You’re beautiful and brilliant, and your heart is so big and so full of love, even if you keep it shielded. You help so many people—your friends, your family, the desperate women who come to you for help. You never once think about what you’ll get out of it. You do it because it’s the right thing to do.”

She stared up into his loving face, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eye and down her cheek. “But I can be such a bitch.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you dare apologize for the way you fight for your clients or your friends.” He ran a finger along her collarbone. “Later, I’ll tell you how much Kelsey needs you too.”

“What’s wrong with—”

“She’s okay. She’ll be okay. I know you’ll make sure she is. And at the end of the day, there’s no one I’d rather have in my corner than you.”

“But I treat you so badly sometimes.”

“I’m not going to lie, sometimes it’s hard, but I understand how deeply your father hurt you. I know how much I hurt you. It’s going to take time, Blair, but I’m not going anywhere. When you get too…”

“Bitchy?”

“Grouchy,” he said with a smile. “But I’m here to stay.”

She reached up and pulled his lips to hers, but he took over, claiming her mouth as his hand lifted the bottom of her skirt up to her waist before working on his own pants. He kicked them off while she shimmied out of her panties.

He paused and looked down into her face as he poised at her entrance, searching her eyes to make sure she was okay.

She gave him a soft smile, and the joy in his eyes as he slowly entered her was her undoing. He filled her so completely, both body and soul. Then he began to move in slow steady strokes, watching her face as he took her higher and higher. She wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed his ass, pulling him deeper.

He took what she offered, giving so much more in return, but what did she expect? This was Garrett, the person who knew her better than anyone else, even better than she knew herself.

They came together, their eyes still locked, and Blair felt a connection deeper than she’d ever felt before, even with him. She belonged with him, to him. By opening up her heart just a little bit more, she felt closer to him than she’d ever expected.

Still panting, Garrett lay next to her and gathered her into his arms, holding her chest flush with his.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much it hurts.”

He picked up her hand and laced their fingers, then kissed her knuckles. “Growing pains, Blazer. That’s all. It’ll be worth it in the end.” He rolled her to her back. “Happy Anti-Valentine’s Day.”

“Anti-Valentine’s Day version 2.0,” she corrected grinning. “I made plans, by the way. We have hours-old Chinese takeout and a horror movie.”

He shuddered. “I think we’ve had enough horror to last us a lifetime.”

She would give him no argument there. “If we’re not going to celebrate Anti-Valentine’s Day, then you don’t expect to celebrate the real holiday, do you?”

He laughed, then leaned over and brushed her lips with his. “Actually, I made a reservation for us at Austin’s.” He grimaced. “I don’t know why, now—I guess it seemed like a married couple thing to do. But we’re not like other couples. We don’t have to celebrate this made-up holiday. You’re covered from now until the end of time. You’ve already given me a Valentine’s gift.”

“And what could that be?” she asked lazily, overcome with exhaustion.

“The best gift I could ever hope for. You’ve given me you.”

* * *

Read Megan’s brother Kevin’s story in ONLY YOU. Read the first two chapters now.

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ONLY YOU Preview

Bachelor Brotherhood #

“This place is a piece of shit.” Kevin Vandemeer stood in the front yard of the two-bedroom home he’d purchased sight unseen, running his hand over his head.

“Well, of course it is,” his sister, Megan, said.

He turned to her, his mouth dropping open. “You purposely found me a piece-of-shit house? I know I was an asshole when we were kids, but this seems excessive for payback.”

She shook her head in annoyance. “Stop being a drama queen. You said you wanted a flip house. This is a house to flip.”

“That I could live in.” He punctuated the last two words with his hand.

“Noooo, you said to find you a house that would make a good investment.”

He swung his hand toward the two-story bungalow. The bright blue paint had peeled off in massive chunks. The covered front porch ran the length of the front of the house, although the right side dipped down, probably because the right pillar was missing. It had been replaced with several concrete blocks, then a few bricks, and finally, on top, a canned good. He took a step closer. “Is that a can of pork and beans?”

A grin spread across her face. “See? Your first dinner in your new home.”

His gaze swung back to her. “Megan…”

She put her left hand on her small, rounded belly. He hadn’t seen her since Christmas, and he’d had a hard enough time dealing with the wedding ring on her finger, much less the fact that she was pregnant.

“Kevin, look.” The teasing tone was gone, seriousness replacing the merriment in her eyes. “I know it seems daunting, but you needed a project after everything…and this seemed like it would take up a lot of your time.”

He ignored the after everything lead-in. He was starting to regret telling his sister about his latest breakup. “My new job is going to take up plenty of my time. This place is going to take the rest of my life. How did this even pass inspection?”

“Well…” She sounded insulted. “It didn’t.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Megan?”

“It’s a flip house, Kevin. You take what you get and make the best of it.”

“It looks like the whole place is about to fall into a sinkhole.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Let me be the judge of that. I want to see inside.” He paused, horror washing through him. “Tell me you’ve been inside.”

“Of course I’ve been inside.” But she sounded unconvincing.

Well, shit. There was no telling what kind of mess he was going to find in there. Might as well find out what twenty-two thousand dollars in cash had bought him. Although in hindsight, that should have been a major clue. He’d chalked it up to the cheaper cost of living in the Midwest. Now he felt like an idiot.

Buying the house had seemed like a good idea at the time. He’d come back to his hometown because he needed a change. After twelve years in the marines, his second tour in Afghanistan had been enough to convince him he was ready for civilian life. So it had seemed fortuitous when his lifelong best friend practically begged Kevin to come work with him.

Kevin hesitantly took the executive contractor job even though he felt significantly underqualified. He’d protested that he didn’t know the first thing about overseeing a construction project, let alone one as big as the shopping mall Matt had taken on.

“I need someone who can organize the financial end and watch the overspending. You may not have been a drill sergeant, but you sure as hell act like one. You’re perfect,” Matt had said.

Kevin had accepted the job for a variety of reasons. One, it was as different as he could get from trying to root out the Taliban in small Afghan villages. The horrors he had seen would haunt him to his dying day. And, two, he wanted to be part of his niece or nephew’s life as well as have a chance to get closer to his sister.

After seeing the hellhole she’d bought him, he was reconsidering the second part of number two.

“Keys.” He reached out his hand and she placed two keys in his palm.

“I’m not sure you need them, though. The lock on the front door doesn’t exactly work.”

“Then what exactly does it do?”

She gave him a hopeful grin. “Sits there and looks pretty.”

This situation was going from bad to worse. “Am I going to find a homeless man sleeping in my basement?”

She cringed. “More like a family of squirrels in the attic.”

Releasing a groan, he stomped across the front yard, tripping on an exposed tree root and nearly falling on his face.

“Be careful,” she called after him. “The front yard is like a minefield.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

She laughed, and he made his way up the steps. At least they were made of concrete and looked fairly stable.

He paused, taking in the sight of the first house he’d ever owned. What the hell had he been thinking? His life had gone to shit—there was no denying that—but why had he trusted his sister to find him a place to live?

But, after everything, he’d wanted something familiar. Plus, his sister had recently moved back to Blue Springs, Missouri, after living in Seattle for years. After her entire wedding fiasco, he’d realized he barely knew her. Last summer, she’d shown up four days before her wedding with the man everyone presumed to be her fiancé. But he’d turned out to be a guy she’d met on the plane ride home. Kevin had kicked himself for months afterward, telling himself if he’d been more active in his sister’s life he would have known that the first guy was an asshole and the second was an imposter. She seemed happy now, but he planned to be around to see if it was really true.

Megan called after him. “Be careful on the…second board.”

His foot fell through a porch slat and tossed him forward, the front door breaking his fall, until it swung inward and he fell on his face flat on floor.

“Megan.”

“Yeah…the porch has some wood rot. The boards need to be replaced.”

“And my ankle?”

“God, I know men are babies, but you were a marine, Kevin Vandemeer. Isn’t your motto Live free or die?”

“It’s Semper fidelis. Always faithful. And you better be damn glad I’m faithful to not killing my only sister.”

“In case you start to reconsider, just remember I’m giving you a niece or nephew in a few months.”

“In the spirit of this sibling bonding time, I think it’s fair to tell you that’s the only thing saving your ass at the moment.”

“Come on, Kevin. Don’t be so cranky.”

“Cranky?” He rolled to his side and glared back at her. “You think I’m cranky? You just pissed away over twenty thousand of my money!” He realized his voice was rising, but he didn’t give a shit.

“Let’s just go inside and I’ll show you it’s not as bad as you think it is, so stop being so cranky.”

“I’m not cranky!” Somehow he suspected the inside was worse, but he was good and stuck now. And, speaking of stuck, he sat up and jerked his foot out of the hole, pulling off his shoe in the process. “Goddamn it!”

She grinned at him from the bottom of the steps. “Well, if the shoe fits…”

“Not funny.” He crawled over to the hole and pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket, shining the flashlight down into the abyss. He found his shoe, but next to it was a pair of black beady eyes that shined back at him before whatever it was scurried for the corner. He jerked backward and pointed to the hole. “What the hell is that?”

She cocked her eyebrows. “It’s a hole. I’m so glad all those years in the marines taught you some valuable discerning skills.”

“There’s something alive down there!”

She leaned back her head and groaned. “You are such a baby. It’s probably a raccoon or a possum.” Then she stomped up the steps and reached for his phone. “Give me that.”

“I don’t think you should be messing around with a wild animal in your condition. What if it attacks you?”

She knelt on the porch next to the hole. “I doubt it’s going to jump out and chew off my face. And even if it does, I don’t need my face to give birth. You’ll just be stuck looking at the grisly scars during the holidays. Now give me your phone.”

He knew that look from when they were kids. She wasn’t budging until he caved, so he saved them both time and handed her his mobile. “Don’t drop it. I’ve heard raccoons are like pack rats.”

“But what if he needs to watch raccoon porn? I wonder what that’s like…do they show lady raccoons doing the nasty in a trash can?” She leaned forward and shined the flashlight on his phone into the space, then she lay down on the porch and reached her arm down into the two-foot-wide space.

“What the hell are you doing, Megan?” he barked out in a panic. “You’re going to get bitten!”

She sat up, holding a tiny gray kitten in her hand. “I think your data plan is safe.” She held the now mewling animal in her hand and lifted it in front of her face. “What do you think, cutie? Do you want Kevin’s phone?”

She cuddled it close to her chest and gave him the phone. “Get your shoe and I’ll give you the grand tour after I pee.”

“Does this place even have running water?”

“Ha. Ha,” she said in dry tone. “People in Africa would call this a palace.”

“Twenty-two-grand money pit is more like it.”

He was totally screwed.

CHAPTER TWO

Holly Greenwood sat in the shade of the trees in her backyard, surrounded by flowering shrubs, her feet in the baby pool her cousin Melanie had bought weeks ago as a joke, saying they were living the good life now that they had acquired a swimming pool for their grandmother’s house—the home they now shared.

Holly had to admit it helped cool her down as she watched Melanie’s rambunctious Chihuahua burn off some energy, and it wasn’t just the late June temperature she needed help cooling down from. Her boss had been in a mood today, especially after Holly had presented her decorating plans for a fund-raiser and Nicole had found a mistake in the budget. Holly had an associate degree in hospitality, but Nicole Vandemeer had experience that was far more valuable.

Holly wanted to own her own wedding-planning business, and after years of working at a local hotel, she’d jumped at the chance to work beside one of the best event planners in the area. Holly told herself the experience she was getting was worth putting up with Nicole, but some days made her question her fortitude.

A bee landed on the Chihuahua’s nose, but the dog batted it away, then gave chase.

“Killer, leave that bee alone. You’re going to get stung.”

The dog ignored her and started to bark.

“Killer, come.” The last thing Holly needed tonight was Mrs. Darby—the neighbor who lived immediately behind her—to call the police because Mel’s five-pound dog was barking. Any other night Holly would try to play peacemaker, but between Nicole’s attitude today and her grandmother’s dementia, she’d lost whatever incentive was left in her.

Her visit with her grandmother at the health-care center after work today was still weighing heavily on her mind. Grandma Barb had been having more and more frequent bouts of memory loss, but completely forgetting Holly was her granddaughter was a new development.

The dog suddenly stopped barking and ran to Holly, sitting next to her chair and waiting for a treat. Holly chuckled. Her cousin had trained Killer to obey commands with pieces of deli turkey. Now he expected rewards for his obedience. Holly only had a bag of Cheetos, so she pulled one out, broke off a small end, and tossed it to Killer while she popped the other end in her mouth. Killer scarfed his treat then barked, begging for more.

Dinner of champions.

On nights when Melanie worked, Holly rarely found the gumption to cook for herself. If she was feeling good about the day, she’d make a sandwich or a salad, but more and more lately she came home exhausted and frustrated, and she resorted to whatever she could grab.

She had eaten several more Cheetos, the crumbs dropping all over her shirt, when her phone vibrated. She almost didn’t answer, not feeling up to dealing with Nicole. She was known for calling at all hours of the day or night, but tonight she was scoping out a competition’s party. What if it was Happy Dale Retirement Community calling about her grandmother? They had given her a sedative before Holly left, but what if it hadn’t calmed her down? Holly sighed in relief when she saw her cousin’s name on the caller ID.

“Hey, Melanie.”

“How was your day, Sunshine?”

She smiled, even if the nickname made her a little sad. Their grandmother had nicknamed them Sunshine and Rainstorm. Holly had been Sunshine for her bright and shiny disposition, while Melanie had been more waterworks and moodiness. “It sucked.”

“I had a feeling your presentation to Nicole would be stressful, so I left you a surprise in the fridge. Did you find it yet?”

Holly hopped out of the lawn chair and padded across the lawn to the house, the dog on her heels. “No.”

“I’m crushed,” she teased. “I made your favorite.”

She gasped when she pulled the refrigerator door open and saw the foil-covered casserole dish on the top shelf. “You didn’t!”

“I did. Lasagna.”

“Mel…”

“It’s not that big of a deal. You’ve had a few bad days and junk food is your comfort food. At least eat something with some nutritional value.”

Killer started barking in front of the living room window.

“Killer, be quiet!”

“What’s he barking at?” Melanie asked, sounding worried. “One of the older women on the neighborhood watch said some cars had been broken into. Is the front door locked?”

Melanie was prone to exaggeration, but Holly had heard rumors of the break-ins, too. She walked over to the window and noticed a U-Haul parked in the street. “It looks like someone’s moving in next door. I didn’t know that junk pit had sold.”

“Seriously?” her cousin asked, annoyed. “I told you about this last week. Hot single guy. Remember? You were busy working on that wedding proposal and you kept nodding and saying, ‘Uh-huh.’ I knew you weren’t paying attention.”

“Wait.” Holly shook her head, trying to remember the conversation. Her cousin had been rattling on and on about the house next door, but Holly had been so focused on the McHenry wedding design she’d tuned her out. “You met him?”

“Okay,” Melanie conceded, “so I don’t know that he’s hot, but I do know that he’s single. The Realtor made sure to tell me.”

“So?”

“So? You need to get back into dating world. Your vagina’s probably shriveled up by now.”

Holly groaned. “Not this again.”

“Maybe you should burn off some of that work frustration in the bedroom,” Melanie teased. “They say hate sex is hot.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to hate the person you’re having sex with, not someone else. And I’m not having sex with anyone.”

“So you’re becoming a nun?”

“No, I’ve been reconsidering my priorities.”

Melanie laughed. “Maybe you can piss off our new neighbor and then have sex with him. Have you seen him yet?”

“No. Oh, wait.” Holly looked out the window again and saw movement in the trees. “A guy just walked from the van into the house.”

“Is he hot?”

She craned her neck to look, but the limbs from the overgrown trees in the yard obstructed her view. “I have no idea. His back is to me and the trees are blocking him.”

“Go out and get the mail.”

“What?”

“Walk to the curb and get the mail!”

“I can’t do that!”

“Why the hell not? You walk to the street, get the mail, and walk back in. And you just happen to cast you gaze over to the house next door. You have to look somewhere. Play it cool, Holly.”

“I’ve never played it cool in my life. When I get embarrassed, I can’t make eye contact. You’ve lived with me for nearly twenty-five years. You know this.”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about? Getting one’s mail isn’t a criminal offense. That’s only if you steal someone else’s. Oh! You could take his mail out of his box and take it to him to introduce yourself. Say it was delivered to us by mistake.”

“I’m not going to do that!”

“Well, you don’t have to—yet. We’ll save that as a last resort. I can’t see you committing a felony without a few drinks first.”

“Melanie!”

“Are you getting the mail yet?”

“No. I’m still inside talking to you.” If she craned her neck any more she’d have to visit the chiropractor to get her spine realigned, but it was all for nothing. She couldn’t see a thing.

“That’s good. I’ll provide your cover. Then it won’t be awkward if he catches you staring at him. You just keep talking to me on the phone and lift your hand in a tiny wave. Now go!”

Holly opened the front door. “I hate you right now.”

Melanie laughed. “No, you don’t. I made you lasagna.”

Holly had a feeling she was going to regret this, but she walked down the front steps anyway. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I’m on break.”

“You just started your shift an hour ago!”

“Never mind me—have you gone outside yet?”

“I’m halfway to the curb.”

“Do you see him?”

“How could I see him?” she whispered, hoping her voice didn’t carry. “I’m walking away from our house.”

“Ever hear of looking over your shoulder?”

“I thought the whole point of this endeavor is to spy on our new neighbor without making it look like I was spying on him.”

“Holly.” Melanie groaned. “Why do you have to be so literal?”

She stopped at the curb and opened the mailbox door, keeping her gaze down.

“Well?”

“I’m getting the mail, Melanie!” She held the phone to her ear with her shoulder and pulled the stack of envelopes from the box.

“Will you just look at his house already?”

“Yeah…Oh!” she squealed in excitement.

“I knew it! He’s hot, isn’t he? Does he have his shirt off?”

“No. I just got a fifty-percent-off coupon to Bath and Body Works.”

“Oh, my God, Holly. You’re killing me.”

“I’m almost out of Wild Honeysuckle shower gel. And obviously you love it, too, since you’ve been using it.”

“Will you focus? Look at the freaking house!”

Holly darted her eyes up and saw a pair of denim-covered legs walking out the front door and toward the truck. The view of the top part of his body was obstructed by the tree limbs. “I can see him,” she whispered, her face feeling warm. “He’s got long legs.”

“Don’t get me wrong, legs are nice, but at the moment, I’m more interested in the top half. What’s he look like?”

“I can’t see his face,” she hissed, standing in the street with her shoulder shoved up to her ear. She watched him hoist a box out of the truck. “The overgrown trees are hiding him. Can I go inside now?”

Melanie groaned. “No. That’s not enough. We need more information.”

“He drives an old truck and wears jeans that hug his butt,” Holly said as she took several steps toward her house. He was carrying the box through his front door. “He has a very nice butt.”

“I knew it!” Melanie shouted in her ear. “And it’s an ass. Even twelve-year-olds are too mature to say ‘butt.’ What else do you see?”

“Nothing. He’s gone inside and so am I.”

“That’s a great idea! Follow him inside.”

“Not his house. Ours. Are you crazy?”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t. That’s okay.”

Holly pushed out a breath of relief that her cousin was going to let this go.

“You need an excuse.”

“Melanie!” She shouted as she walked through the front door.

“Oh! I know! The lasagna. Take it over as a welcome to the neighborhood offering.”

Holly gasped. “You traitor! You didn’t make that lasagna for me! You made it for me to take to him!”

“Calm down. I had no idea he was moving in today—only an idiot would move into that house—but why not use it to your advantage?”

“If you think he’s an idiot, why do you want me to meet him?”

“Maybe he’s an adorable idiot…with a rippling six-pack. I mean, he is flipping the house. Hot construction guy…no shirt…”

“Am I meeting him for me or you?”

“You, Sunshine. I’m with Darren right now, remember? Besides, no one said you were looking for your future husband. You’re just looking for a good time. Now go.”

Holly tossed the mail on the kitchen counter. “I’m not sharing my lasagna.”

“It’s a huge dish, Holly. You don’t have to take him the whole thing. Just take part of it.”

She didn’t answer.

“Come on. You know you want to…”

She did. Kind of. But the thought of walking over with a casserole filled her with dread. All she needed was a large L painted on her forehead. The whole move reeked of desperation.

“I’ll clean up the dishes for a week,” Melanie said.

She leaned her butt against the kitchen counter. “Two.”

“Are you kidding me?” Melanie asked in disbelief. “Why am I paying the price for you to meet a guy?”

“I’m perfectly fine sharing my lasagna with Killer.”

“When I come home I’m taking that lasagna over to him myself. All of it.”

She would, too. Holly let out a guttural growl. “Fine. But if I do this, you can’t bug me about not dating for an entire month. I’m marking on the calendar in the kitchen in case you forget.”

“Okay. One month, but you have to make an effort to talk to him, otherwise you can’t hold me to the date part.”

“And how do you know I won’t just tell you that I did?”

“Because you’re a terrible liar. I’ll know.”

Holly pushed out a sigh. “Melanie…”

“Text me when you get back.” Then she hung up.

Grumbling, Holly pulled the thirteen-by-nine casserole dish out of the fridge. The question was how to take it to him. Cut some out and put it on a plate? That would look tacky. She could give him the entire thing.

No freaking way that was going to happen.

She found an eight-by-eight dish in the cabinet, then cut what looked like an eight-inch square in the pasta. The transfer was a disaster. Picking up a piece that big was unmanageable, and the lasagna broke in half. She put both pieces in and tried to pat them back together, but it was obvious it wasn’t whole. It was also obvious the lasagna hadn’t started out in the original dish—one look at the one-inch gap on one side was proof enough of that. She popped it in the microwave for five minutes while she started to throw together a salad, then stopped. If she wanted to impress him, salad wasn’t the way to do that. And damn her, but she did kind of want to impress him. She grabbed two beers out of the fridge and put them in a small brown bag. The microwave dinged and she pulled out the lasagna, trying to smash the cheese over the gaps, then gave up and covered the entire mess with aluminum foil. She tossed a plastic fork and a napkin into the brown bag with the beers then took a deep breath and headed out the door.

Why was she doing this?

She glanced back at the messy kitchen, pots and dishes from Melanie’s cooking filling the sink.

She hated doing dishes.

Killer followed her out the door, then let out his displeasure when she shut the door before he could get out.

“I’ll be back, you big baby,” she said to the door, then started across the yard, the dog’s angry yaps following her.

Great.

She stood at the bottom of his porch, looking up at the partially open front door and listening to her cousin’s disgruntled dog. The casserole dish was burning her hand and she was having serious second thoughts. Her new neighbor was going to think she was a nutcase—which she was, courtesy of her cousin. All she had to do was dump this off, then head home. Sure she was supposed to try to talk to him, but she’d drop off the food, exchange a few pleasantries, then leave.

Easy-peasy.

She quickly climbed the two steps to the porch and sidestepped the hole in front of the door. This place was even more of a disaster than she’d thought. She rapped on the door frame and waited. Killer renewed his barking efforts and she glanced over at her house, worried that Mrs. Darcy would hear him and call animal control.

“Hey.”

She whipped her head around, her breath catching when she saw the man standing in the doorway. He had to be the most good-looking man she’d ever seen. He was tall—tall enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at him—but the view was worth the effort. His dark brown hair was cropped short, but the unruly short waves suggested he was growing it out or needed a trim, and while she didn’t care for men with beards, the few days’ growth of stubble on his face made her fingers itch to touch it. His chest and shoulders filled out his light gray T-shirt, and the previously noticed dark jeans clung to his hips. Never in her twenty-nine years had Holly reacted to man like she was now. She was literally tongue-tied.

His chocolate brown eyes swept from her face, down her body, then back up again as he stood in place waiting for her to say something.

She’d heard of women doing this, acting like an imbecile over a man, but not her. Never her.

“Can I help you?”

“I…uh…” she stammered.

Lines creased his forehead as he frowned. “Are you okay?”

Oh, my God. She was making an utter fool out of herself. She cast her gaze to the floor, trying to get herself together. Say something, Holly. Anything. The hole in the porch floor caught her attention. “I can’t believe you’re actually moving into the Miller house. It’s falling apart.”

The blood rushed to her face. Oh, my God. Did I really just say that?

He laughed, but it sounded pained. “So I’ve noticed.”

Why was she so awkward? Why couldn’t she be more like Melanie?

He shifted his weight, his shoulder leaning into the door frame. “Unless you’re a very generous Jehovah’s Witness, I’m guessing that’s for me?”

“Uh…yeah…” She looked down at the dish in her hand, now all too aware that it was still hot. She tried to shift it from her palm to her fingertips, the dish tipping sideways. It started to fall and she tried to catch it with her forearm, but the man grabbed it from her hand.

“Whoa. Runaway casserole.” He chuckled. He stood in front of her now, so close she could smell his musky shampoo mixed with his sweat, which wasn’t as bad a combination as she would have expected. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Her chest tightened and she forced herself to take a natural breath.

“Yeah…” Jiminy Christmas, Holly. Get yourself together. “It’s lasagna.”

“Even better.”

“I didn’t make it.” Brilliant. Just freaking brilliant.

He laughed and lifted the loose foil. “So you got a frozen lasagna from Costco and stuffed part of it in this casserole dish and brought it over to impress me?” He grinned at her, his gorgeous brown eyes dancing.

“What? No!” Oh, God. Could she just turn around and go home now? Did this constitute talking to him?

He watched her, waiting for further explanation.

“I…uh…” Then she remembered the bag in her hand and shoved it out toward him, punching him in the stomach. He released a soft grunt.

Could this get any worse? She started to take a step back, but he shifted the casserole dish and grabbed her arm, pulling her forward until his chest stopped her. She rested her free hand on him, feeling his hard muscles under her palm.

Oh, my God. She was touching his chest. His sexy chest.

Panic washed through her and she tried to jerk away, but he held her firmly in place. She hadn’t dated in a while, and she knew a lot of the new dating apps had changed the rules. Did bringing a man food mean she wanted a booty call? She was going to kill Melanie.

She narrowed her eyes, then said in a haughty tone, “I’m not ready to sleep with you yet.”

An amused grin spread across his face. “While I’m happy to hear that’s on the agenda for later, that’s not why I’m holding you now. You were about to step into the hole.” He tilted his head toward it.

Her eyes sank closed and her face combusted.

He dropped his hold on her arm and took the bag, moving slowly like she was a skittish animal. “What’s in the bag?”

“Beer.” She couldn’t bear to look at him, instead taking a couple of steps backward while making sure to avoid the hole. “Yeah…I…You’re busy. …”

“I can’t accept your store-bought lasagna,” he said, sounding serious.

Who didn’t eat lasagna? “What? Oh…you don’t eat meat? Oh! It’s not store-bought. My cousin made—”

“It looks like there’s enough for both of us. I figure maybe we should have dinner together before we hop into bed.”

“What? Oh.” This had moved well past disaster and was quickly moving into relocating to another state to avoid ever seeing him again territory. Her breath caught again at both his suggestion and the way he was watching her now—a mixture of curiosity and interest. Well, hello. She’d just let him know she was thinking about sleeping with him. Still, she’d never had a man look at her with such intensity, and a shiver ran down her spine.

His eyes held hers and she felt herself melting.

“There’s only one fork in the bag.” That was brilliant. Why was she still standing here? Run! But her feet had somehow become disconnected from her brain.

His grin turned wicked. “We can share.”

Her face burned at the thought of their mouths touching the same utensil. Her eyes shifted to his mouth and she suddenly wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Would he hold her tightly to his chest like he had moments ago?

Oh, my God. She had just turned into every clichéd woman she’d made fun of since high school. What the hell was happening to her? Without another word, she spun around and ran back to her house, her foot catching on a tree root and making her stumble. She looked back at him, horrified to see him watching her, his amusement mixed with confusion.

When she got inside the house, she shut the door and locked it, wondering if she could convince Melanie into building a six-foot privacy fence to run the length of their property.

Because there was no way she could ever face that man again.

* * *

Order ONLY YOU now!

Also by Denise Grover Swank

Rose And Neely Kate reading order:

Family Jewels

Trailer Trash

For the Birds

Hell in a Handbasket

In High Cotton

Up Shute Creek

Come Rain or Shine

Dirty Money

When the Bough Breaks

Rose Gardner Investigations

Family Jewels

For the Birds

Hell in a Handbasket

Up Shute Creek

Come Rain or Shine

When the Bough Breaks

Neely Kate Mystery

Trailer Trash

In High Cotton

Dirty Money

Carly Moore

A Cry in the Dark

Her Scream in the Silence

One Foot in the Grave (June 2020)

Magnolia Steele Mystery

Center Stage

Act Two

Call Back

Curtain Call

Darling Investigations

(Humorous mystery romance)

Deadly Summer

Blazing Summer

Rose Gardner Mysteries

Novellas are bonus material

TWENTY-EIGHT AND A HALF WISHES

TWENTY-NINE AND A HALF REASONS

THIRTY AND A HALF EXCUSES

FALLING TO PIECES (novella)

THIRTY-ONE AND A HALF REGRETS

THIRTY-TWO AND A HALF COMPLICATIONS

PICKING UP THE PIECES (novella)

THIRTY-THREE AND A HALF SHENANIGANS

ROSE AND HELENA SAVE CHRISTMAS (novella)

RIPPLE OF SECRETS (novella)

THIRTY-FOUR AND A HALF PREDICAMENTS

THIRTY-FIVE AND A HALF CONSPIRACIES

THIRTY-SIX AND A HALF MOTIVES

SINS OF THE FATHER (novella)

The Wedding Pact

(Humorous contemporary romance)

THE SUBSTITUTE

THE PLAYER

THE GAMBLER

THE VALENTINE (short story)

Bachelor Brotherhood

Spinoff of The Wedding Pact series

ONLY YOU

UNTIL YOU

ALWAYS YOU

From the Ashes

Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Let it All Burn

Bluebird Bay

Women’s fiction

Cowritten with Christine Gael

Finding Tomorrow

Finding Home

Finding Peace

Young adult contemporary romance

ONE PARIS SUMMER

Off the Subject Series

(New adult contemporary romance)

AFTER MATH

REDESIGNED

BUSINESS AS USUAL

Also by Denise Grover Swank writing as D.G. Swank

CURSE KEEPERS WORLD

(Urban fantasy)

Curse Keepers Trilogy

The Curse Keepers

The Curse Breakers

The Curse Defiers

Curse Keepers Collection (box set)

Piper Lancaster Series

Of Ash and Spirit

Of Fire and Storm

Of Blood and Monsters

The Chosen Series

(Adult urban fantasy)

Chosen

Hunted

Sacrifice

Redemption

Book of Sindal

Descended from Shadows

Reign of Mist

Crown of Blood

On the Otherside Series

(Young adult sci fi romance)

Here

There

About the Author

Denise Grover Swank was born in Kansas City, Missouri and lived in the area until she was nineteen. Then she became a nomad, living in five cities, four states and ten houses over the course of ten years before she moved back to her roots. She speaks English and smattering of Spanish and Chinese which she learned through an intensive Nick Jr. immersion period. Her hobbies include witty Facebook comments (in own her mind) and dancing in her kitchen with her children. (Quite badly if you believe her offspring.) Hidden talents include the gift of justification and the ability to drink massive amounts of caffeine and still fall asleep within two minutes. Her lack of the sense of smell allows her to perform many unspeakable tasks. She has six children and hasn’t lost her sanity. Or so she leads you to believe.

For urban fantasy: dgswank.com

For mystery and romance: denisegroverswank.com

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