Three Brides, No Groom

by Debbie Macomber

  Gretchen was tired, more tired than she wanted to admit, even to herself. They hadn’t traveled nearly as far as Josh had hoped they would, but then, they’d gotten a late start and taken two hours out for a picnic lunch.

  Josh parked the Harley and reached for her hand once they’d stored the helmets. “Let’s get you a hotel room tonight.”

  She didn’t miss the implication. While she was nestled up warm in a bed, he would be sleeping on the beach. Alone and cold.

  “Hey, I go where you go,” she said.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Is that an invitation to your bed?”

  She blushed. “No.”

  “Pity.” He grinned at her.

  Josh teasing? Josh joking? His brief smile went a long way toward lightening her spirits. “You’re nothing but a big phony,” she declared.

  His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Beneath that he-man exterior, you’re a pussycat.”

  He shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”

  “But I already am.”

  Once again she found Josh grinning as he located a quiet spot on the beach, one protected from the elements as well as the curious stares of others. Soon they had a fire of their own blazing away. While he unpacked their things, Gretchen smoothed an area of sand and spread the blanket over it. Silently they worked together as a team, then sat down in front of the fire.

  “Why’d you want to get me a hotel room?” she asked. They had a wonderful spot on the beach, she realized. The weather was great, and she was as comfortable here as she would be on any bed.

  He didn’t answer, and Gretchen, puzzled, glanced at him. “You assumed I need to be pampered, right?” It irked her that he would think that, and her tone told him as much. People often assumed that, because her family was wealthy, she’d been spoiled and coddled her whole life. Certainly she’d been given opportunities that weren’t available to most people her age, but her parents had never overindulged her.

  Josh shook his head. “When I first met you, I assumed you’d be another one of those spoiled rich kids, but you’ve proved otherwise.”

  She was pleased. Pleased enough to forget her inhibitions, lean over and kiss him. The action had been purely instinctive, without forethought.

  He leaned back in surprise. “What was that for?”

  “To thank you for the compliment.”

  “I complimented you?”

  Willing to admit her weariness now, she let her body rest against his, her head on his shoulder. After a time he put his arm around her, and she smiled, utterly content.

  “Tell me about your family,” she said lazily. If she hadn’t been propped against him, she might not have felt the tension shoot through him. His back went rigid, and his arms stiffened slightly. She’d done it again. Just when it seemed they were comfortable with each other she’d said something to upset the delicate balance. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten that his father was in prison and he didn’t want to talk about it. “Josh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that my own family is so much a part of me.”

  He didn’t respond for what seemed like an eternity, and when he did speak, his voice was gruff with emotion. “My mother died when I was sixteen.” His hand stroked her upper arm, as if he needed the reassurance of human contact.

  Gretchen placed a hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “It happens. My dad was never the same. It was as if he couldn’t bear the agony of losing her, so he chose to self-destruct. He’s serving time, as you know.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask. Instead, she brought his hand to her face and gently laid her cheek against it.

  “A lot of people wonder how I landed at Queen Anne,” he continued, his voice close to her ear. “My grandfather left me money in the form of a trust, the condition being that, if I wanted a college education, I attend his alma mater.”

  “Do you want a college education?”

  His short laugh was without humor. “I went, didn’t I?”

  All evidence she’d seen to this point said he wanted anything but what Queen Anne had to offer. Josh constantly challenged authority. He appeared to go out of his way to cause trouble. Why, only the day before he had given Roger the incentive and opportunity to end his college career right as he was about to graduate. And it would be just like Roger to make whatever trouble he could for Josh and delight in it.

  “Why’d you do it?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why’d you slug Roger? He’ll go out of his way to use it against you.”

  “Let him,” Josh answered. “I can deal with it.”

  “But—”

  “The bastard deserved it.”

  That much Gretchen agreed with. It had been all she could do not to cheer when she saw Roger’s bloody nose. Especially after he’d attempted to sucker-punch Josh.

  Before she allowed herself to think what she was doing, she broke away from him, shifted position and knelt in front of him. His questioning gaze met hers in the dim light afforded by the fire. Smiling, she placed a hand on either side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him.

  The surge of desire she experienced when their lips met was enough to make her bold. She wrapped her arms around his neck as their mouths worked together in a frenzy of tongues, lips and unmistakable desire. She offered and he took, greedily.

  Abruptly Josh jerked his mouth away from hers. He sat back, panting, his shoulders heaving. “What was that for?” he demanded.

  Gretchen’s eyes remained closed. “Don’t ask. Just kiss me like that again.”

  “No.”

  “No?” Disappointed, she opened her eyes. “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t have a clue what you’re doing.” He stood, and she was pleased to note that he didn’t look very steady. She felt decidedly off balance herself, but somehow it was a good feeling.

  “Wipe that silly grin off your face,” he muttered.

  If she hadn’t been so happy she would have been downright insulted. He’d kissed her and it had been the most wonderful experience of her life. Now he didn’t seem able to hold still. He circumnavigated the blanket three times. She was getting dizzy watching him.

  Suddenly it dawned on her, and it was all she could do to keep from giggling. “Joshua Morrow, I tempt you, don’t I?”

  He started to deny it and then appeared to think better of it. “I’m getting you that hotel room, and I don’t want any arguments, understand?” His voice was hard and unfriendly. “You’ll sleep alone, too.” She wasn’t sure if he was saying that for her benefit or his.

  Gretchen covered her mouth in an effort to contain a brewing fit of laughter.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he demanded.

  “Like what?”

  “Like…that.” He shrugged as if at a complete loss for words.

  She had never seen Josh unnerved, had never suspected she would be one to shatter his cool. It told her that their kisses had affected him as much as they had her. She felt almost giddy with a sense of wonder and power.

  “Come on,” he ordered brusquely.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I told you. I’m getting you a motel room for the night.”

  “Josh—”

  “Don’t argue with me.” From the tight set of his mouth and his combative stance, she wasn’t inclined to do so.

  “Oh, all right, but you’re being ridiculous.”

  She rolled her eyes, and then, feeling happier than she had all day, she gathered up her personal items and obediently followed him to the bike. They set off and didn’t find a vacancy until their third stop. Although she was the one who registered, the man at the desk handed the room key to Josh. He hesitated before accepting it; he obviously didn’t want the man to think he would be spending the night with her. Finally his hand closed over the key, and he escorted her outside.

  The room was small, the furniture cheap, but overall the place looked clean, despite the faint
stale scent hanging in the air. Gretchen set the tote bag holding her belongings on top of the bed.

  Josh stood outside the room, his arms crossed in a defensive way that defied her to even try to talk to him. She’d seen him assume that same stance at college a hundred times. The hard-edged look that said he didn’t give a rip about anything or anyone, so you had better keep your distance.

  “This OK?” he asked.

  “It’s fine,” she assured him.

  “Good. I’ll be going, then.”

  “You won’t leave me, will you?” she blurted without pausing to think he might take her question differently than she intended. “In the morning,” she clarified. “You’ll still be here, won’t you?” The thought of not seeing him again hit her with a pain she hadn’t anticipated.

  His features softened fractionally before he spoke. “I’d never do that. I said I’d deliver you to your family, and I will.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Out of gratitude, or perhaps relief, she walked across the room and hugged him. He returned the gesture with what felt like reluctance. Once she was in his embrace, she closed her eyes, savoring the closeness.

  “Good night,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head.

  “Good night,” she returned, stopping herself from asking a series of unnecessary questions, which she knew would only have been an excuse to delay him. She didn’t want to think of him out there alone on the beach, but she couldn’t stop him from going, either.

  After what seemed like an inordinate amount of time, they dropped their arms and stepped away from each other. “I’ll shower here in the morning, if you don’t mind,” he said.

  She nodded and clenched her hands, already missing him—and he hadn’t even left.

  He hesitated for a moment, then was gone.

  Alone in her room, Gretchen was certain he’d wanted to tell her something. She’d recognized the look in his eyes. But whatever it was he’d decided to keep it to himself.

  She showered, enjoying the glorious sensation of standing under the spray and letting it splash over her face. She slipped into her pajamas and used a sweater for extra warmth. Then, sitting on the bed, she watched TV and brushed her hair, or what there was of it. She wondered how long it would take her to get used to its being this short. Josh had worked miracles with the hack job she’d done. She sighed. For two days they’d spent nearly every minute together, and without him there to share these quiet moments, it felt as if a part of her was missing.

  The program ended, and she was about to turn off the television and go to sleep when a loud knock sounded against her door.

  She scrambled off the bed, wondering who on earth could be coming to her room this late. “Who is it?” she called, making her voice sound strong and confident.

  No response.

  “I’m not opening this door until I know who’s there.”

  Another moment passed before the answer came.

  “Josh.”

  Chapter 4

  “Josh!” Gretchen undid the locks and threw open the door. Why was he here, especially after acting as if he couldn’t be rid of her fast enough?

  “Hi.” He stood on the other side of the door, looking decidedly uncomfortable, as though he wasn’t entirely sure himself why he was there, either.

  “Come in.” She stepped aside to let him pass, yet he made no move to venture farther than the doorway.

  “I can’t,” he muttered. He rubbed his hand down his face and shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

  “You wanted something?” she asked. She drew the sweater more tightly about her and was glad she’d thought to wear socks. Frowning, she thought she smelled beer on him.

  He seemed to read her thoughts. “I figured it’d take a little fortification to say what needs to be said.”

  “It’s that bad?”

  “It’s about what happened,” he said.

  “What happened?” She wasn’t playing dumb. She honestly didn’t know what he meant.

  “Us, you know?”

  “About us…kissing, you mean?”

  “Yeah.” He buried his hands in his jeans pockets, and his gaze stubbornly refused to meet hers.

  Gretchen had never seen Josh look so self-conscious or tense. She waited, deciding to let him speak without further coaxing from her. The seconds ticked by, and still he remained silent.

  At last he met her gaze and said, “Don’t put any stock in those kisses, all right?” His words were stark and half-angry.

  At first she didn’t respond, but then she couldn’t keep from asking, “Why not?”

  “Because,” he said forcefully, “girls like you don’t get involved with guys like me, understand?”

  “Josh—”

  He raised a hand, stopping her. “Let me speak. You’ve had a miserable couple of days, and—”

  “But I haven’t, not really, I—” His gaze narrowed at her interruption and she shut up.

  “You’re no longer engaged to Junior Warbucks. You’re separated from your family at a time when you need their love and support most. It’s only natural for you to turn to me for comfort—natural, but not advisable.”

  “You’re making me sound like a child.”

  “Whatever,” he announced crisply. “Listen, Gretchen, don’t set your sights on me. I’m not your type.”

  She opened her mouth to argue that he was quite possibly exactly the type of man she could love, but he stopped her once again, yanking the rug out from under her feet.

  “And you’re not my type, either,” he growled. “I can’t say it any plainer than that, can I?”

  His words smarted, and she instinctively jerked back, as if she’d taken a punch in the solar plexus. Every breath brought her pain.

  “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said. “You’re a sweet kid, but it’s best to get this out in the open before you end up getting hurt.”

  He thought of her as a kid! Worse, a sweet kid! He made it sound like she was in pigtails, skipping down the beach licking a rainbow lollipop.

  “I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding between us,” he continued. “I’ll deliver you to your family, and that’ll be the end of it. So don’t be putting any weight on that kiss. It should never have happened—but I blame myself. Rest assured, nothing like that will happen again.”

  “That was what you wanted to say?” she asked, as though exceedingly bored. She wrapped her dignity about her as tightly as she had the sweater.

  His eyes registered his surprise at her easy acceptance. “Yeah.”

  “Fine, then, you’ve said it.”

  He blinked once. No doubt he’d anticipated an argument. Well, she wasn’t about to give him one. If that was the way he felt, she wasn’t going to force herself on him. After all, she still had a thin layer of pride, which was about all she’d managed to salvage after Roger. And what little remained she was determined to guard very carefully.

  “If you don’t have anything more to say, I’d like to go to bed.” She forced a loud yawn. She would go to bed, all right, but she knew it would be one hell of a long time before she slept.

  Josh turned abruptly and walked away.

  Gretchen shut the door, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool wood. Her heart was heavy. Practically speaking, she had no choice but to accept him at his word. But he hadn’t fooled her. He was interested in her. Very interested.

  Her fingers investigated her short hair as she climbed into bed. She lay there a good long time before she reached for the nightstand and turned out the light.

  * * *

  In the morning they were overly polite with each other, behaving like awkward strangers with nothing in common and little to say. They got an early start, hitting the road shortly after seven, fortified only with coffee. Neither was hungry. If they rode hard, didn’t stop often or for long, they would reach San Francisco by evening, Josh told her. The minute they were on the highw
ay, Gretchen could see that he was determined to be rid of her that day. He set a killing pace.

  She sat stiffly behind him as they roared down the highway, doing her best to avoid touching him. He, too, was avoiding her. Unlike the previous day, when he’d stopped every few miles to admire the view and to give her the opportunity to talk, he pressed on with punishing determination.

  When he did finally pull off the highway, it was to gas up. Although she didn’t complain, Gretchen’s entire body ached, especially her back.

  He climbed off the Harley while she slowly eased herself from the seat and headed into the small mom-and-pop grocery for something to drink.

  “Do you want anything?” she asked, making sure she sounded friendly yet reserved.

  “Nothing.” Then, as if in afterthought, he added, “Thanks.”

  She walked into the store. After checking to be sure he couldn’t see her, she rubbed some of the soreness from her buttocks and the small of her back. She stopped when she discovered the elderly male clerk eyeing her with appreciative interest. He had the good grace to look embarrassed when she glared back at him.

  Doing her best to walk normally, she made her way to the rest room. Afterwards she stopped at the refrigeration unit and reached for a bottle of spring water. Her mouth was dry, her body sore and miserable, and her heart was heavy. Not a good way to start the day.

  As she stood in line to pay for her purchase, she noted the flashing red and blue lights of a police cruiser.

  “What’s going on?” she asked the man at the counter.

  The clerk craned his neck to see out the grimy window. “Looks like they’re arresting some young fellow. He better pay for his gas before they haul him away. Otherwise I’m gonna confiscate his Harley.”

  “His Harley?” Gretchen repeated. Her heart, which had felt sluggish and lackadaisical only seconds earlier, shot into overdrive. The police were arresting Josh! Leaving her purchase on the counter, she raced out the door half a second in front of the clerk.