Runaway Groom

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Runaway Groom Page 22

by Fiona Lowe


  She thought about his dead friend. “You were doing what you and Mark talked about. Honoring him?” she asked softly.

  He blinked at her in surprise. “That’s what my sister-in-law the therapist said.”

  “Did you...” Just ask him. She sucked in a breath. “Did you love her?”

  “I thought I did.” He slumped down onto the window seat as if telling her the story had drained him of energy. “Now I don’t know. Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same question a million times but everything about me and Lexie was so fucked up I can’t separate the real from the fake. I had no clue that our entire relationship was based on a lie and she was using me to fight her demons. I didn’t guess that the occasionally crazy, risk-taking stuff she did was part of her problem. She was in denial, trying so hard to live a straight life—a life everyone expected her to live and part of her wanted to live, while the rest of her shuddered at the thought.”

  She thought about the fallout that would engulf her and her life if she stood up to Jonathon and a wave of sympathy for the unknown Lexie rolled through her. Part of her understood why she’d struggled and resisted coming out. “So no one knew she was gay?”

  He grimaced. “One person. Sian. I didn’t meet her until we came back to Melbourne, two weeks before the wedding. Sian wasn’t my biggest fan,” he said with ironic understatement. “She hated me. After a few attempts to find some common ground with her and getting nothing, I gave up. Lexie visited her without me and I didn’t give it a second thought because, shit, women do stuff together all the time, don’t they?”

  She heard and saw his appeal for confirmation. She didn’t really have girlfriends and she was still burned from Beth’s betrayal, but she had sisters and she knew what he meant. “Girls’ night out, weekends away?”

  “Yeah, all of that. As the wedding got closer, Lexie was spending full days with Sian and I just thought it was wedding stuff. It turns out they’d been in a relationship before I’d met Lexie and Sian had been pressuring her to come out then. Lexie was scared and confused, and she broke it off, came north and chose me to be her attempt at living straight. I had no clue about any of it. I was just the pathetic bastard who got caught up in the middle of a fucking mess.”

  “You’re not pathetic.” She shot to her feet and sat down next to him on the window seat, putting her hand on his back. The muscles were so tight they almost pushed her fingers away. “You were grieving for a friend and she only showed you the Lexie she wanted you to see. The person she was trying to be, not the person she was fighting. You had no reason to suspect she was gay.”

  “Everyone betrays themselves in some way. I should have fucking realized.” He shot to his feet and opened the minibar. “Booze in the bedroom. The rich think of everything, don’t they?” He poured himself a scotch and offered her one.

  She shook her head. “Do you really need that?”

  He immediately put the glass down and pulled her to her feet. “I’d rather have you.”

  He kissed her like he always did—taking charge and reducing her to a delicious, quivering mess.

  But he was hurting and this time she was determined to give back. She undid his shirt and pulled it out of his pants before pressing kisses to his chest. Her hands kneaded his back until they reached his hips and then she brought them around to his front. She could feel his erection straining against the button fly of his jodhpurs and she quickly undid the buttons and dropped to her knees.

  “No.” The harshness of his voice whipped her as both his hands gripped her head hard. “Get up. Now.” He hauled her to her feet, his face twisted with disgust and he immediately turned away from her, downing the whiskey.

  Mortification burned her cheeks as anger, embarrassment and abject sadness pummeled her so hard she swayed. She’d thought it would help him, be something he might enjoy. Would she ever get this sex thing right?

  It’s not you, it’s me.

  The thought stopped her automatic spiral into self-doubt and loathing. Examine the facts. He’s always the playmaker in sex but you haven’t minded because it’s all new anyway. He’s never let you touch him except to roll on a condom. She’d always put it down to her inexperience and sexual timidity but the more she thought about it the more she realized it was because he didn’t want to be touched.

  Everyone betrays themselves in some way. I should have fucking realized.

  She sat down on the bed. “I refuse to let you make me feel bad. If we’re going to keep having sex, I need you to tell me what you like and what you don’t like so we don’t end up here again.”

  Ben saw the determination in Amy’s eyes and he had a choice. He could refuse and instantly end this thing between them or he could give her the last piece of information of the debacle that was him and Lexie. The one thing he’d held so close to his chest that he’d never told anyone. Not the therapist he’d seen once or his caring sister-in-law and definitely not his brothers. It was the answer to the question, how could you live with her, sleep with her and not realize she was gay? The question he’d seen in everyone’s eyes at the wedding and in the days that followed. The question that implied his own stupidity and it had driven him out of Australia and on this road trip.

  It was the missing piece in the jigsaw that represented his blindness and his denial that everything had happened too fast and that there were some problems between him and Lexie. The one niggling thing he’d always papered over with excuses.

  “Ben?” She spoke his name so softly, so hesitantly that he barely heard it.

  It broke him. He sat down next to her and picked up her hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just that sex with Lexie was mostly oral. She said she was saving herself for me, to make the wedding night special, and fool that I was I believed her and didn’t push her on it. It was the one clue she gave me and I ignored it.”

  “You’re not a fool. You’re a guy who respects women.” Empathy shone in her eyes and she squeezed his hand. “I understand that me wanting to...” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, don’t worry because I’m not sure how I feel about....” the tips of her ears glowed fire-red “...oral sex.” She grinned at him. “It might all be a bit too messy.”

  She’d just made his issue all about her and he almost cried at her thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She rested her head on his shoulder, her curls brushing her face. “Can we keep doing the other stuff, though, because I really liked all of it.”

  He laughed. “We can do that.”

  “Now?”

  He pulled her down onto the bed with him and kissed her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “My party.” Lily pointed to the invitation on the fridge.

  “No, that was Eva’s party,” Scott said as he served up the pasta casserole he’d made for their supper. “Remember, we went on Tuesday and you gave her the jigsaw puzzle. It’s all done now. You can take the invitation down and put it in the trash.”

  Lily shook her head. “Lily party.”

  Lily had been embraced by the parents of the kindergarteners and she’d been to three birthday parties in quick succession. “You went to Eva’s, Kaylee’s and Sydney’s parties.” He set her plate down in front of her and poured a glass of milk.

  Lily’s mouth formed a mulish line. “Lily party. My cake.”

  His hand stilled on the salad servers. “You want to have a birthday party?”

  Lily bounced in her chair. “Blow out the candle.”

  Her birthday had occurred during the move and he’d been too overwhelmed by getting the house set up and Lily settled into school so he’d let it slide with the intention of doing something special a bit later, like a trip to the Minnesota Zoo. Now she was asking for a birthday party like any normal five-year-old. His throat got tight.

  “Okay, Lily, you can have a birthday party.


  Her eyes lit up. “Now?”

  He shook his head, half laughing, half groaning. “No, we have to count sleeps.”

  “Okay,” she said happily and started eating her supper.

  Slowly the joy of having his little girl ask for something so normal started to fade. He’d never thrown a kid’s party in his life. Where the hell did he start?

  * * *

  Melissa finished the piano piece she was playing with a flourish, thrilled she’d only made one mistake. She waited for Scott’s praise but ten seconds ticked past. “Wow, Melissa,” she said, “that was amazing. You deserve a special treat for working so hard.”

  Scott stared silently into space and she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Hello, earth to Scott, I’ve finished.”

  “Great. Good job,” he said distractedly.

  “You didn’t hear a thing, did you?”

  A sheepish expression crossed his face. “Sorry.”

  “And you even missed the hint about sex so whatever it is you’re thinking about must be pretty big.”

  He sighed. “In a moment of insanity I promised Lily a birthday party.”

  Surprise rolled through her. It was the first time he’d ever volunteered any information about his daughter. “And?”

  “Do you have any idea what’s involved in a party?” He looked at her, his hazel eyes bright with terror. “God, I thought it was cake and candles and then sending them home with a goody bag, but on the children’s party websites it says I need a theme, a magician or a visiting fairy.”

  Melissa laughed. “They’re only five so I don’t think they need a decorative theme. Just blow up some balloons.”

  “I can do balloons.”

  “There you go. One problem solved.”

  “Do you have any other suggestions?”

  “Um...” His question surprised her and she thought about her middle sister’s children who always had birthday parties. “Games are easy and they love them. Play pin the tail on the donkey and musical chairs. Then you can feed them, sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ blow out the candles and send them home.”

  He pushed up his glasses. “You make it sound so easy.”

  She studied him. “So you’ve never given her a party before?”

  “No, and I want this one to be good. It’s hard enough for her not being as developed as the other kids without her dad throwing her a crap party.”

  Her heart rolled. “If all else fails, just play your piano. Little girls love to dance.”

  Anxiety wove across his face. “It’s just I can’t split myself five ways, heating food, running games, keeping the girls under control and making sure Lily’s coping.” He looked at her, a battle clearly raging in his eyes, and then he huffed out a breath. “If I get everything organized, could you help me out on the day? Be my party wingman?”

  Her heart did a crazy flip like it had never done before and she rubbed her sternum. “Sure.”

  “Thanks, Missy.”

  He smiled at her—a warm, quiet smile that added to the odd sensations that had taken up residence. Sensations that scared her. She steeled herself and wrestled back some control. “My terms are this. The party needs to be on a Sunday and you have to call me Melissa.”

  “Absolutely, Missy. How about you play that piece one more time and I promise to give you all of my attention.” He dropped a kiss onto her hair—one that was all to do with affection and absolutely nothing at all to do with sex.

  The kiss sent the already-simmering panic inside her spilling over and she grabbed his hand, determined to reset all her feelings about Scott. “I’ve got six minutes. Give me your undivided attention in bed.”

  * * *

  Amy was in Whitetail having told her parents she was picking up Ben from the garage. That was the truth but she’d come in early so she could make some calls without any chance of being overheard. Despite the size of the house, with her parents there, it was suddenly too small.

  For the seventh time in an hour she was making a call which basically started with, “Hi, I’m Amy Sagar and I’m just touching base in regards to the advertised position...” and then she filled in the blanks, based on the notes on her yellow legal pad. The agencies she’d signed up with hadn’t come up with any interviews so she was back combing the help wanted ads for jobs.

  “We have your résumé, Ms. Sagar, and we’ll be in touch,” the brusque woman at the end of the line said, using the exact same tone as every other P.A. who’d taken her call.

  It told her nothing and it failed to give her any hope. She thanked the woman and disconnected the call, putting a red strike through the last number on her list. Misery washed through her. Time was passing quickly and she wasn’t any closer to a job and as much as she was enjoying making Janey’s wedding gown, it wasn’t a job-job. She missed working, she missed her duties with her charity, Kids Plus, and she missed the families who benefitted from it. Her only consolation was that the Foundation had a prestigious reputation so Jonathon wouldn’t tamper with it because he’d want the associated glory.

  She glanced at her watch. She still had thirty minutes to kill before Ben was ready to leave. Ever since Ben had told her about Lexie, she’d been thinking about the whole awful story. Awful for both Ben and his ex-fiancée. She thought he was being way too hard on himself for not realizing Lexie was gay. She’d even done a bit of internet research, reading stories from both men and women whose partners had come out. They all shared the same stunned disbelief that Ben had talked about.

  People had a thousand sides and they chose what they wanted to display to the world and what they wanted to hide. She thought about Jonathon and her jobless state and how she hadn’t told her parents anything. You haven’t told Ben the full story either. Her mind leaped away from that like fingers from fire. It wasn’t like they were engaged. Ben didn’t have to know.

  The cold nipped at her ankles, and she needed to do something because sitting here in the darkening park wasn’t going to make her feel any better about her life. She could go and hang out in the garage while Ben finished up but he’d only ask how the job hunting was going and she didn’t want to have that conversation, thank you very much. She preferred it when she and Ben were exercising or having sex—he was too busy then to ask her the hard questions. Shoving her hands into her coat pockets, she started walking and as she looked at the new window display in the Northern Lights Boutique she had an idea. Pushing the door open, she stepped inside.

  It was near closing time and Melissa was alone in the store. She looked up from steaming a jacket and smiled. “Hi, Amy.”

  “Hey, Melissa.” She ran her hand along a rack of long-sleeved blouses whose shades covered the full gamut of fall colors, suddenly feeling embarrassed by what she’d come in to ask.

  Melissa flicked off the power to the steamer, her face welcoming if slightly confused. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop by. Are there problems with Janey’s gown?”

  “No, it’s coming along just fine.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah.”

  “The jacket looks good on you,” Melissa said, moving over to a display of scarves and picking one up. “This came in the other day and I thought it would really suit you and the jacket.”

  “It sure is pretty.”

  Melissa wound it around Amy’s neck. “There you go. Perfect.”

  Amy thought about her bank account, which was healthy but without a regular income it may not stay that way for too long. “How much is it?”

  Melissa waved her hand. “It’s my treat as thanks for helping me out with Janey, unless of course you’d like something else?”

  “Actually...” She felt the burn in her cheeks.

  “Just ask, Amy. I can give you a discount to the value of the scarf on another item if you�
�d like it more.”

  “It’s not that... I feel stupid asking but I’ve had a pretty crap day on the job-hunting front and I was wondering if I could try on a wedding dress?”

  Melissa’s face broke into a wide smile. “Heck, yes, you can do that. After all, it’s wine o’clock.” She locked the store door and turned the sign to Closed. “Which one do you want to try on?”

  “The one with the sweetheart neckline, the beautifully beaded bodice and the full circle tulle skirt,” Amy said without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Oh, great choice,” Melissa said approvingly. “I love that gown.” She retrieved it off the rack and unzipped the protective bag before hanging up the gown.

  Both of them sighed with delight, looked at each other and laughed.

  “Will you try one on too?” Amy asked. “I feel bad for taking up your time.”

  “It’s fine and I’m always happy to try on clothes. Seeing as you’re here and can do up forty-five buttons, I think I’m in the mood for a bit of 1930s vintage style.” She quickly located the gown she wanted. “You try yours on first and then you can help me get into mine.”

  Ten minutes later, both wearing a wedding gown, they alternated between twirling and standing still while staring into the large mirror. “Oh, my God, I have no clue why this makes me feel giddy with joy,” Amy said, “but it’s amazing.”

  “That dress really suits you.” Melissa handed her a glass of champagne. “You should remember this style when the time comes and you need a wedding gown.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Amy said, clinking Melissa’s glass. “I have to get a job first.”

  “Why? You and Ben seem cozy?”

  “I could say the same about you and Scott,” she said quickly, not wanting to discuss Ben even though he was hands-down the best man who’d ever been in her bed.

 

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