The Wedding Pact Box Set

by Denise Grover Swank

  “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 resolu
te 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 f
rom 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.