“Josh.” Chip sounded serious. “I know you think you loved that girl, but we could all see it was some kind of warped infatuation.” He cleared his throat while Josh sat stinging at the accusation, wishing it wasn’t true but still knowing the accuracy of it cut like a knife. “But back to your question. You called with the conundrum that you’d made a commitment to Brielle, and Morgan insisted you keep it.”
“That’s right,” Josh whispered, wishing for any way out of it now. “I can’t disappoint Morgan.”
“Answer me this, pal. What commitment did you make to Brielle Dupree? And, more to the point, what promise did Brielle ever make to you?”
The time machine of Josh’s mind dialed back over the months to when he was standing in the airport with Brielle, begging her in his mind to promise him, to allow him to promise her—
Do you want me to wait for you? he’d asked. She’d purposely misunderstood him. He could see that now. And she’d said no! Besides that, she’d evaded him when he’d tried to pin her down in any way.
After nearly a full two blocks of driving while Chip waited silently on the other end of the line, Josh said, “None. She didn’t promise anything.”
“And you?”
Josh knew he’d committed to her in his heart, and that he was a guy who didn’t take things like that lightly. At least he wanted to think of himself that way. Obviously Morgan thought of him that way, and that was probably the thing that had made it so difficult for him to let go of what obviously had died and embrace the living breathing relationship between himself and the woman he truly loved.
Morgan. All along he’d said for Brielle he wanted to be the best version of himself; Morgan made him the best version of himself.
“Nothing. I didn’t actually make any concrete promises.” Brielle wouldn’t let him. He would have—he knew that, if she had, but she hadn’t. Wow. Stating that aloud made bells chime in his head, the Liberty Bell, actually. Nothing was said between them, not in so many words, although he’d assumed it was understood, and apparently Brielle had come back to him on Christmas acting like it was understood for her as well. But there was no bargain made, no real commitment. He was free. Always had been.
Chip didn’t say anything for a bit, but then when he did, it nearly made Josh swerve from the road and into a parking meter. “So, then, what commitments did you make to Morgan—whether either of you intended to keep them or not?”
Josh swallowed hard. Whether the vows were made with real intent or not, they were made. Legal proof of them existed, and everything (well, almost everything) Josh and Morgan had done in their lives since that day was evidence that the two of them were committed, husband and wife, legally and lawfully wedded. Neither had dated someone else, neither had abandoned the other, they’d lived together, eaten meals together, gone to church every Sunday together. Everything but the final act of making her his wife indeed, and that was no one’s business but their own. In the eyes of the law and before God and man, Josh had vowed to be Morgan’s husband.
“I’ve had it all backward.” He tugged a smile, knowing how much this conversation enabled him to fully embrace at last the feelings that had tugged at him for months. He could have her. He should have her. His wife.
“You can say that again.” Chip’s background noise ramped up again. He was done with this conversation. “Now, go give that other girl the boot, and quit breaking Morgan’s heart. Because if you don’t, I’m scared of what Heather will do to you. It won’t be pretty.” Through the phone, the sound of Chip giving Heather a peck on the lips sounded. “Oh, by the way—we have some good news. We’re not telling the rest of the family just yet, but since you’re Heather’s favorite brother-in-law, she insists.”
“What?”
“You’re going to be an uncle. In June.”
“That’s great, Chip. Congratulations. Good things come to those who wait.”
“Good things come to those who sleep with their wives.”
“Hey,” Josh warned, but the happiness that lurched in Josh’s chest for Chip and Heather’s long-awaited blessing confirmed everything he’d decided about Morgan and family and the cycle of life. He wanted Morgan and everything she offered—providing he could get Brielle out of his life, now that she’d finally expressed that she wanted a life with him.
∞∞∞
Josh rounded the corner and sped toward the church. He pulled out his phone again and dialed Morgan. She didn’t pick up. He had to tell her he was doing what she asked, but not in the way she insisted. He wanted her, not Brielle, and Morgan deserved to know that.
He dialed again, no luck. And texting this kind of life-changing information was just too impersonal, even for this day and age.
He pulled up in front of the church where Claire’s wedding had taken place earlier in the afternoon. It was a small, traditional building of white clapboard with a cross atop the steeple and Christmas lights on a wreath at the door. Josh was surprised Claire hadn’t wanted to be married in some fancy hotel. The harpy who’d made his life a tabloid festival for the past month really seemed the flashy type, not the tiny church type.
The stack of letters he’d written Brielle weighed heavily on his mind. How had she reacted when she’d read them—if she’d read them? Giving them to her had been a huge risk, he knew. They were proof of more than just his intent toward Brielle; they proved his and Morgan’s intent to defraud the system. He’d been playing with fire by writing them, and then he’d doused himself with gasoline by handing them over.
However, he also knew he wouldn’t be able to look her in the eye and say he’d fallen out of love with her without showing her proof that he’d never forgotten her. Maybe that would soften the blow. Brielle deserved at least the knowledge that he’d never been untrue to her, even though at the final moment of choosing, he couldn’t choose life with her.
It was pretty low to be doing this to her at her best friend’s wedding, but Josh had a deadline with Seagram and no way around it. Besides, Morgan deserved this as well, not to be kept waiting another day for him to quit his wishy-washy show of commitment, when in truth he was a hundred percent Team Morgan. This conversation had to happen tonight. His heart quailed, but he steeled it.
Josh parked the Land Rover and pushed himself through the double doors of the chapel.
Suddenly, a girl in a white dress stopped him in his tracks before he could set foot beyond the vestibule of the church.
“Joshua Hyatt, as I live and breathe.” Claire looked a lot more normal with natural auburn hair than with what Morgan had termed the cherry Kool-Aid red she’d been sporting last time they crossed swords.
“Sorry, Claire. I know how you must feel about me,” and he knew how he felt about her, “but Brielle asked me to come, so I hope it’s not too much of an imposition on your most important day.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I just can’t believe you’d show up here.” She looked ready to launch shoulder-mounted missiles—but, strangely, not at Josh. She looked at him with an air of conspiracy. “And that you’d forgive her, after what Brielle put you through these last few months? Wow. Just wow.”
Josh cocked his head to the side, looking around to see if anyone was listening. They were alone. He proceeded with caution. “She was pretty incommunicado.”
Claire threw her head back. “Ha! I’ll bet she was—with you, at least. I mean, I was glued to her posts until everything hit the fan in the news, which, by the way, was all after I sent that loser-face reporter after you. Sorry about that. Hope you can forgive me. I should’ve kept my temper better, but you know what they say about redheads.”
Josh just nodded dumbly. He had no idea what kind of things had hit the fan with Brielle. Or that Brielle had been making posts of any kind. Wasn’t she going dark? Below the radar? He’d never done an online search for her, since she’d been so bent on secrecy when she left, and why would he waste his time?
“I mean, that whole whirlwind between her and
the director of the diplomatic mission—their big trysts in the Bavarian hotels, the embassy cars they took on the Autobahn all the way to Bremen, the castles on the Rhine—it would have been a fairy tale if they hadn’t been caught.”
“Caught. Right.” Josh’s stomach spiraled.
“I mean, glory! What a wreck she made of his career and his marriage and his family. I told her sixty-five million times she was far better off waiting for you to finish school—or to just hurry up and get married to you without the school stipulation—and not go after that slimy diplomat. I mean, I was always sure your dad would forgive you and give your money back if she was patient enough, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She just had to chase him through Europe, acting like nothing else existed. Yeah, I’d been mad at you for getting married the second she left—and to that girl who was so much prettier than Brielle. But when I met your wife she was so nice I couldn’t stand that you’d upgraded—and I was furious.”
“So you sent Paulie Bumgartner after us.” Josh gritted his teeth. This whole conversation was pummeling him.
“Hey, I just apologized for that. Didn’t you hear me? I was wrong. It was well-meant. I thought it would hit the Portland news through some other publishing company than my own, and Brielle would see what she was doing was wrong and come back and fight for you. Which, I guess, ultimately she did. But not until after her whole world crumbled like the Berlin Wall in 1989.”
Josh’s mouth was as dry as the one pot roast Brielle had ever cooked for him. “So, the diplomat chucked her?” He hated tipping his hand, showing how much he didn’t know.
“Weeks ago. She’s been drifting jobless through Europe for a month, probably trying to scrape together airfare home. I mean, I wanted to kick her out of my wedding, after all the disgrace she was to herself and basically the whole United States diplomacy effort, but geez, she’s been my best friend for two decades, and I couldn’t just tell her to forget it. But she’s pretty busted, you know. No one here is giving her much of the time of day. Not after what she did to that man’s family, to you, to herself, to her own family. No one has much respect for her at this point. I’m just glad you got out more or less unscathed, frankly, and scored with that incredible, super-sweet wife. You’re a really nice guy, Josh. Do, please, forgive me for the reporter stunt. It was ill-conceived but well-intentioned as her friend who didn’t know how low she’d really sunk at the time. You have to see that.” Claire put a hand on his shoulder, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for coming to my reception.”
Josh watched her flounce away in her dress that looked like an upside down white cupcake and realized that Claire had, after all, launched her shoulder-mounted missile at him, whether she meant to or not.
The clock chimed eight, and a band started playing smooth jazz from the depths of the church’s hallways. Josh stood letting the music muffle out, and he backed against the wall of the vestibule. A few wedding guests filed past him, chatting and holding large gifts, probably toasters and crock pots and blenders. Things people needed to start their lives off right together.
Josh let them blur past him while the enormity of Brielle’s lies sank in. Well, not lies, exactly, other than claiming she had an open-ended return ticket to Germany. Otherwise, they were sins of omission, Morgan had called them. Confessional oversights.
Morgan lied by not telling me she did love me; Brielle lied by not telling me she didn’t.
Josh made a fist, his mind filling with the sight of Morgan walking out and shutting the door behind her, her steps hollow on the wood floor as she walked down the hall to the other bedroom. He could almost taste the astringent salt of her tears on his tongue if he thought about it, in stark contrast to all the sweet she’d given him with her raspberry lip gloss. He’d only given her bitterness.
Morgan was his first choice. So what was he doing here, feeling guilty about explaining things to a woman who’d made him her second choice? Or maybe her third, or farther down the hierarchy, for all he knew. Josh was Brielle’s last resort. She’d even admitted to keeping his commitment on her back burner all the time for someday. Maybe.
And even more, what Claire had said about Brielle’s whole motivation for sticking with him had muddied the waters even more. When Brielle left for Germany, her words at the airport had puzzled him. Eventually things will calm down. They will smooth out. He’d replayed them a hundred times, no, a thousand times in his mind since that day, but he’d never assigned much meaning to them other than the idea that they’d both be done with school, ready to take on the world together. That would be the smooth, calm time to come. But no.
She meant Bronco would relent and bring Josh back into his good graces—and his finances. She’d gone to Germany to wait that out, or postponed committing to him until she was sure all her ducks were in a row, meaning Josh’s money. She’d had her blaze of fun in Germany, burning up that diplomat like Nero fiddled while Rome went up in flames.
Sick tides of realization roiled through him. Had she actually ever cared about him for himself? When she’d accused Morgan of being a gold digger earlier this week, it had been telling of her own intentions, not Morgan’s.
His chest got tight. Brielle had been stringing him along, waiting for a better situation to come up, a more sure thing. But then, after everything else in her life imploded, Brielle had come waltzing back to him, her place of last resort, the guy she thought would be her backup plan after she’d sown her wild oats. What did she think? That he’d never find out? Didn’t she realize just how public everyone’s lives were these days? And that becoming the wife of a Hyatt, a son of Hyatt Holdings, was nothing but an invitation for the press to completely rip to shreds her background? She was a family scandal waiting to happen—a legitimate one.
Then the most humbling and horrifying thought of all weaseled its way into Josh’s mind:
Bronco had been right.
It buckled his knees, and Josh collapsed against the wall, using it to hold himself upright, or he would have fallen to the floor, right beside the lighted garland and faux marble pillar wedding decorations.
Josh pulled out his phone. He dialed Morgan as fast as he could. She had better pick up this time. He needed her, just to hear her voice. That would steady him, remind him that everything was going to be all right.
“Morgan! Morgan?”
“This is Tory. She doesn’t want to talk to you, but I’m not letting her or you off that easily.”
“Tory, thank goodness. Tell her not to do anything.” He scrambled upright again, energized by the fact he was finally almost speaking to Morgan.
“What. Did your ex dump you, or something? Because Morgan isn’t exactly the type of girl who deserves sloppy seconds. I have a few choice words for you right now, Mr. Hyatt—”
“Stop, Tory. You can save them and say them to me from now until forever. But just tell Morgan I’m coming. I’ve been trying to get a hold of her for hours.” Josh gathered himself, strength coming back into his knees as he said the words that suddenly felt more right than anything he’d said to anyone ever in his life.
“She’s not going to see you. And right after I see you, I’m probably going to get arrested for assault, so don’t even bother coming to Estrella Court.” Tory let it slip where they were, and he headed for his car to get there fast. Josh wondered if it was on purpose. Tory had always been on his side—he knew that from what Morgan had mentioned over the past few months. But she did sound mad. Morgan just had to relent.
“Please, Tory. I swear I only came down here at Morgan’s insistence, and the whole time I knew it was wrong to even waste the time, and that I love Morgan and only Morgan. Honestly, I haven’t even seen Brielle. And—” He had his hand on his car door, ready to climb in, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“And you’re dying to?” Brielle’s voice came like liquid lava into his ear. She placed fiery lips on his neck, and her voice flooded him. “Because you’ve finally gotten rid of that ball and chain bimbo yo
u were shackled to, and you’re ready to light your life on fire with the woman you’ve loved forever?”
“Bimbo! You’re with her now, Josh. Get lost.” Tory’s side of the phone hung up.
“No! Tory! Wait!”
“Oh, Josh. I’m so glad you came. You always look irresistible in red. I can’t keep my hands off you. We’d better go in for the reception before I do something that will make us miss when they cut the cake.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Josh’s insides hollowed, like they’d been flash burned in the hydrogen fire of the Hindenburg. He stared at the dead call on the phone, knowing Tory would never pick up. He went to open the door of the car again, but Brielle snatched the key fob from his hand and locked it.
“Sorry about that little display. I just had to, you know, defend my territory.” She smiled at him, a broad, toothy smile, like the cat who got the canary. Then she mellowed a little and took his arm, leading him onto the sidewalk. “You came to see me, and we have a lot to talk about.” She squeezed his arm, and Josh had to grit his teeth at her acting like she’d done nothing wrong.
“Yes, we do.”
“Right? Because those letters you wrote made me realize you’re as true to me as I am to you. We’ve been through a lot together, Josh, and I’m ready to make it permanent, just like you are.” She came around in front of him and looked right up at him. Her hair was done, and her makeup was perfect. She would’ve looked radiant if he didn’t know better.
“Brielle, there’s something important—”
“Do you have any idea how much I’ve been longing for this moment, Josh? Just you and me together? I’ve missed you like a hurricane.” She threw herself into his arms, assaulting his face with her kisses. “Your letters were the greatest aphrodisiac ever. We shouldn’t wait another minute to make it all official between us. It’s been years coming to this point. I’m yours. All yours.” The words came through breathy breaks in the kisses she covered him with.
Legally in Love Boxed Set 1 Page 35
