The Police Chief's Bride

by Elana Johnson

  “Wow,” he said. “You look great.”

  “Thank you.” She reached out and touched the top button on his shirt. Fire spread down his chest at the warmth in her fingers, but he didn’t move. “Is this a new shirt?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I always wear a new shirt to my mother’s. Then I know it’s clean.”

  Deirdre laughed, but Wyatt wasn’t kidding. “My mother, she’s….”

  “You’ve told me about her,” Deirdre said. “I can handle it. I work with brides-to-be for a living.” She laughed. “Most of them are great,” she said. “So great. But I can handle a…prickly personality.”

  “Let’s hit the road then. It’s over on the west side of the island, about an hour away.”

  “All right, Chief.” She gave him a flirtatious grin and went down the steps. She could get in the Jeep herself, but Wyatt liked to be a gentleman and help her. Plus, that meant he got to stand close to her, smell that fruity perfume.

  He closed her door and rounded the vehicle, taking a deep breath of the rain forest air. “You live on a beautiful part of the island,” he said as he climbed in.

  “I agree,” she said. “The beach has its place, but I love being up in the trees more.”

  Wyatt got them on the road, and they chatted about his daughter and her plans for the holidays as they drove the coastal highway. “The whales are back,” he said, turning the conversation to something else. “Have you been out on the speedboats to see them?”

  “I didn’t even know that was a thing.”

  “Oh, it’s a thing, and you can see some amazing animals,” he said. “I saw a blue whale shoot right out of the water last year.” He glanced at her. “Do you want to go?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It’s quite the speedboat ride,” he said. “About five miles off the coast, at forty miles per hour.”

  “So don’t do my hair,” she said. “Got it.”

  Wyatt chuckled, so happy to be in the car with her. Celebrating the holidays with her. He wasn’t alone for the first time in four years, and it felt fantastic. He finally pulled up to a house that sat only half a block from the beach, and the sand seemed to have crowded its way all the way to his mother’s front porch.

  “Here we are.” He peered out the windshield at the white house with green shutters and a matching green door.

  “Did you grow up here?” she asked.

  “No, Mom moved here after my dad died. They lived in Getaway Bay. I grew up there.” He looked at her. “You ready for this? I can practically hear the noise from here.”

  “Two siblings,” she said. “A sister and a brother. With teenagers.”

  “Loud teenagers,” he said, opening his door. “And the badge does nothing to quiet them.”

  Deirdre laughed and joined him at the front of the Jeep. Melinda’s car was already in front of the house, as was Scott’s. So they were the last to arrive, and Wyatt would probably hear about that for the next year.

  He opened the door and yelled, “We’re here,” over the noise at the same time he reached for Deirdre’s hand. All sound silenced, and Wyatt marveled at it. So that was how it was done.

  Bring a woman home for Thanksgiving, and he’d get some peace and quiet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Deirdre felt the weight of almost a dozen pairs of eyes on her. Even Wyatt was looking at her, and she suddenly had the urge to run to a bathroom and check her reflection. But she’d done that at least ten times before Wyatt had arrived at her house.

  Her hair was perfectly curled and fell over her shoulders in blonde waves. She wore makeup, but not too much. Tasteful makeup. She’d put on a dress, which was a huge tell for how much she liked Wyatt and wanted to impress his family.

  But the truth was, families were not something Deirdre was very good with. She’d ruined her relationship with her mother because of her devotion to Dalton, following him all over the country, moving every time he got a little too friendly with a woman in his office.

  And of course, it wasn’t like she spoke to her ex or her own daughter anymore. She barely knew how to act at functions like this, as she hadn’t been to a large family meal like this in at least a decade. Maybe longer.

  Her nerves, which had been fluttering all morning, now flapped like eagle’s wings. She couldn’t quite get a decent breath, especially not when Wyatt said, “Hey, everyone. This is Deirdre Bernard, my girlfriend.”

  “Look at you,” the man said—Scott, Wyatt’s brother. He grinned at Wyatt and then Deirdre. “She’s really pretty, Wyatt.” He embraced Wyatt as they laughed, and then Scott extended his hand to Deirdre.

  “My brother, Scott,” Wyatt said needlessly. They’d gone over his family. Scott had a wife named Amelia, with two teenage girls, Kiley and Brinley.

  She said hello to all of them, smiling and shaking hands, until she’d met his sister and her husband too. Joan and Aaron, with a boy and two girls.

  “My mother, Laura.” Wyatt put his arm around his mother’s shoulders and faced Deirdre, both of them smiling.

  “You’re just lovely,” Laura said. “Welcome.” She hugged Deirdre, who leaned into the elderly woman’s embrace and held on. It sure did feel nice—and it also reminded Deirdre of what she would never have.

  Her lungs pinched, and her heartbeat accelerated. But she kept her smile on her face as her other senses started to function properly. “Smells great in here,” she said, getting a hint of sage and fresh bread hidden beneath the roasted turkey scent.

  “Joan’s been cooking for hours,” Laura said.

  “I thought we weren’t eating until two,” Wyatt said.

  “We aren’t,” his sister said, putting a vegetable platter on the table in front of her kids. “We’re making our own placemats and having appetizers.”

  Deirdre had no desire to make her own placemat, but she sat down at an empty spot at the table, Wyatt at her side. She stared at the art supplies on the table, wondering if this was what normal families did.

  “After this,” Carina said, looking at Deirdre. “She makes us play board games. Take your time.”

  Deirdre couldn’t help the giggle that came out of her mouth, though she ached for an afternoon like this with Emma. Making placemats as they ate carrots and ranch dressing. Playing a board game as they laughed and made memories.

  Her throat closed, and she stood up.

  “Deirdre?” Wyatt asked.

  “Restroom?” she asked, because she had to get out of there. Just for a minute. Just to clear her head and stop thinking about what might’ve been.

  “Oh, it’s down the hall,” Amelia said, putting a bowl of salsa on the table and dropping a bag of chips next to it. Deirdre didn’t see how she’d be hungry for a huge meal in only a few hours with the amount of food that was already on the table. “Third door on your right.”

  Deirdre gave her a tight smile and practically ran away. Behind the closed and locked door of the bathroom, she pressed her back into the wood and breathed. Her skin felt clammy, and she wiped her forehead and found it sweaty.

  Her hands shook, but that subsided quickly. She stepped over to the sink and washed her hands with the coldest water possible, calming even further. She didn’t dare to look at herself in the mirror, because she knew what she’d find.

  A woman on the brink of a complete collapse.

  When Wyatt had first invited her to have Thanksgiving dinner with his family, Deirdre had resisted. She wasn’t sure where that would put them in their relationship. But she’d had no idea that it would bring up all kinds of feelings about her own failures. How inferior she was as a daughter, a wife, a mother.

  In fact, Deirdre wasn’t any of those things, not here in Getaway Bay.

  She was just a woman with a job. A wedding and party planner.

  You’re Wyatt’s girlfriend, she told herself, finally looking up to meet her own eyes. At least her makeup hadn’t smudged. She didn’t look like she’d been crying, because she hadn’t been.
/>   “You can do this,” she told herself. Even if she didn’t want to. Even if she’d rather go home and eat a turkey sandwich and feed the stray cats on her street. She’d watch a Christmas movie, and miss her mom and her daughter, and everything would be normal.

  But sharing her life with Wyatt and his family wasn’t inside her normal, and she didn’t quite know how to do it. Didn’t mean she couldn’t do it.

  And she liked Wyatt a lot, and she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his family. They were obviously important to him, and he spoke to them more than once a year. She didn’t even do that.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she opened the bathroom door and went back down the hall. Wyatt’s brother had turned on a football game, and all of the men had abandoned the placemat craft at the table.

  Deirdre stood in the mouth of the hallway and watched them. Scott and Wyatt high-fiving over something that had happened in the game. The women working in the kitchen, talking and cooking at the same time. Could she join them?

  They seemed to have everything under control, and Deirdre didn’t even know where she fit. Wyatt looked over his shoulder, obviously checking on her, and he jumped to his feet when he saw her hanging in the doorway.

  He crossed the space toward her quickly and looked down into her face. “Hey. Are you okay?”

  She nodded, because her voice was suddenly a ball in her throat, and she was choking.

  “You don’t have to make a placemat.” He put his arm around her shoulders and shielded her from the eyes in the kitchen as he took her into the living room. “Come watch the game with us.”

  Deirdre sat on the couch, Wyatt beside her, his hand anchored solidly in hers. This was okay. This was nice, even. Welcome and wanted. After several minutes, she relaxed further, her emotions evening enough for her to be able to talk.

  More chips and dips were served, and Wyatt’s sister came over and turned off the TV. “Enough, you guys. We’re going on a family walk before dinner.”

  Surprisingly, no one argued, and Wyatt stood up and reached for Deirdre. They followed everyone else out the front door and Melinda turned toward the beach. Almost as if they were all being controlled by the same mind, they took their shoes off on the beach and left them in a pile, a couple of the teens running toward the water, leaving everyone else behind.

  Deirdre realized that they knew what to do, because they’d spent many family occasions like this together. This wasn’t their first walk on the beach. Or their first meal together. She was the only newcomer, and she found herself walking next to Amelia, also an addition to the family.

  “Overwhelmed yet?” she asked.

  “A little,” Deirdre admitted. “I don’t have any family down on this part of the island.”

  “I’m an only child,” she said. “The first time I came to a family function with Scott, I was like, ‘What in the world is this? How do I fit here?’ I recognize that look in your eye.” She smiled at Deirdre, and it meant so much to her.

  “Any advice?”

  “Let’s see…agree with Laura nine times out of ten. And kiss Wyatt a lot.”

  “Oh, wow.” Deirdre laughed, catching Wyatt’s eye. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

  “It’s great to see him so happy again,” Amelia said as one of her kids called for her. “He’s been so lonely for so long.” She gestured to her teenager. “Excuse me.”

  Deirdre watched her go, wondering what lonely looked like. She’d known Wyatt for a while now too, and she’d never categorized him as lonely.

  “What did she say?” Wyatt asked, stepping around his brother to Deirdre’s side.

  “Nothing.” She smiled up at him. “She’s nice. I like her.” She took Wyatt’s hand in hers, almost desperate for the rest of the day to be as beautiful and tranquil as the beach was right now.

  Dinner was a delicious and loud affair, but Deirdre survived. She didn’t participate in the cornhole game after lunch but stayed inside to help with the desserts.

  “And the crown jewel,” Laura said, pulling a pie out of the oven. “Pumpkin pie.”

  “I don’t like pumpkin pie,” Deirdre said, and it felt like everything stopped. She glanced at Amelia and Melinda, but neither of them said anything.

  “This is my grandmother’s recipe,” Laura said. “You’ll like it.”

  But Deirdre wouldn’t. Just looking at the dark orange baked custard made her stomach turn. But she whipped cream, added sugar to it, and helped with the egg whites for the lemon meringue pie. That one she would like, as Deirdre adored all things lemon.

  “Pie,” Melinda called out the back door, where the game of cornhole had devolved into touch football. The boys and men came back into the house, their voices so loud and the scent of sweat and earth coming with them.

  Pies were cut and served, and literally everyone took a piece of the pumpkin pie. Deirdre didn’t, because if they liked it, they should get to eat it. She didn’t need to waste a piece on herself.

  His mother saw her, and her lips pursed. She said nothing, though, and Deirdre felt like she’d dodged a bullet.

  Wyatt’s phone rang just as Deirdre had put her last bite of the delectable lemon meringue pie in her mouth.

  “It’s work,” he said, rising from the table. His plate was clean, and he left it right where it was as he swiped on his call. “This is Chief Gardner.”

  “Ooh, Chief Gardner,” Scott said, laughing at Wyatt as he retreated. The others at the table twittered too, and Laura shushed them.

  “Leave him be,” she said, cutting a look at Deirdre. “He’s just doing his job.”

  “Come on, Mom,” Scott said. “It was a joke.”

  “Wyatt’s had a rough year,” she said. “Now that he’s back in counseling, he seems better.” She pinned Deirdre with a look. “Don’t you think, dear?”

  “Oh, uh, we’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months.” Deirdre cast a quick look at everyone at the table, and their gazes volleyed back to Laura.

  “I’m quite surprised he brought you,” she said.

  Eyes back on Deirdre, who had no words.

  “After his last break-up, he told me he wasn’t going to date again.” Eyes darted to Laura. “Apparently he’s just not willing to be with someone who isn’t Christine.”

  Everyone looked at Deirdre, and Amelia said, “Laura, I’m sure that’s not true. He’s only forty-four.”

  “Hey, sorry, everyone,” Wyatt said, appearing at the table again. “I need to go.” He looked at Deirdre. “Sorry, sweetheart. Duty calls.”

  Deirdre couldn’t get up from the table fast enough, and she smiled her way out of the house, ready for sweatpants and some silence.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Wyatt knew his mother had said something. What, he didn’t know. But Deirdre had been white as a sheet when he’d turned back to the table. “Are you okay?” he asked, knowing he’d asked her a couple of times already.

  “Your mother—something she said….”

  Wyatt exhaled. “What was it? She just says stuff sometimes.”

  Deirdre’s hands wound around and around each other, and Wyatt had never seen her do that before. “Hey,” he said, reaching over and taking one of her hand in his. “What did she say?”

  “She said you’re not willing to be with anyone but Christine.”

  His heart shot to the back of his throat and then fell to his feet. “Well, that’s just not true.”

  “It’s not?”

  “Deirdre,” he said, not wanting to be angry at her. He was frustrated with the situation though. He didn’t want to leave the family festivities early because of a house fire that had then yielded a marijuana stash once the fire department had arrived. Apparently, now there was weed-infused smoke drifting over an entire neighborhood in Getaway Bay. Who knew what would happen next?

  And now his mother was saying stuff?

  “Of course not,” he said. “I told my mother that the day after Christine died. I don’t feel that way
anymore.”

  “She made it sound like you told her last week.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” He glanced at Deirdre. “Do you think I feel like that?” He’d kissed her with enough passion and need for her know that just wasn’t true.

  She shook her head and looked out the window.

  “Then what’s really going on? You’ve acted a little off today.” He wasn’t going to interrogate her, but he sure did want a relationship with a woman that was open and honest.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for a family,” she said.

  “I don’t want more kids,” he said.

  “It’s more than that.” She faced him, looking away again quickly. “That was really hard for me, Wyatt. Seeing the teenagers…so close to Emma’s age. Having siblings and in-laws.” She shook her head, her voice taking on a tortured edge. “That is just not my reality, and I don’t fit. I’m just going to mess it up.”

  “Mess what up?”

  “Them,” she said, the word almost exploding out of her. “You. Your relationship with them.” She sucked at the air, and Wyatt could see she was out of control now. Well, as out of control as Deirdre ever got. “I don’t do families, Wyatt. I screwed up everything with my own mother, and you know how things are with my ex and my daughter.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head, tight, angry bursts of movement.

  “So we won’t go to Christmas Eve dinner with them,” he said as gently as he could. “It’s no big deal.”

  “It’s a big deal,” she said. “Have you met your mother?”

  “I can handle my mother.”

  “So you’ll just go visit her yourself, and I’ll be labeled the blonde woman who’s stolen you away.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Or worse.” She shook her head.

  Wyatt didn’t know where this was going, but it wasn’t a good place. “So…what? You don’t want to be with me because I have a family who gets together for holidays?”

  Deirdre said nothing, despite Wyatt giving her plenty of time and looking at her several times while he navigated the curves in the highway.