The Wedding Pact Box Set

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The Wedding Pact Box Set Page 64

by Denise Grover Swank


  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.

 

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