THE BEST MAN

by Linda Turner

  And she hated herself for it. He'd dumped her, publicly humiliated her, then ran away like an irresponsible jerk. He wasn't worth another tear, let alone a second thought. She knew that, but still, she couldn't get him out of her head. In desperation, she smiled more, laughed harder, and to anyone who didn't know her well, she appeared to actually be having fun. She had, in fact, never been more miserable in her life.

  And her family knew it. Standing on the sidelines watching her on the dance floor, they could only watch in pained silence and sympathize. "Somebody needs to do something," Angel said huskily. "Look at her out there, honey. She's got to be hurting."

  "Maybe she just needs to get it out of her system," Joe replied, his brown eyes dark with concern as he watched every move Merry made. "At least she's not bawling her eyes out."

  "That'll come later," his mother predicted softly. "When everyone's gone home and the letdown hits her. Then she'll cry herself to sleep."

  His jaw rock-hard and his eyes narrowed on the cowboy that was holding Merry just a little too close, Zeke growled. "That jackass better watch where he's putting his hands or he's going to find himself picking himself up off the ground."

  "Maybe it's time I cut in and gave that clown his walking papers," Nick said tersely. "Excuse me."

  The song was just ending as Nick reached Merry and her partner, and with a single hard glare, he sent the other man packing. Merry never even noticed. Giving him a smile that had been known to knock lesser men out of their boots, she walked right into his arms. "There you are, Nick. I haven't seen you in ages. Let's dance."

  She melted in his arms as the band swung into the next number, and it wasn't until then that Nick realized she was well on her way to being snockered. Over the years, they'd danced together more times than either of them could remember, and not once all those times had she ever draped herself around him like a limp dishrag. Nick didn't even think he'd seen her dance that way with Thomas. She wasn't into public displays and just didn't do that kind of thing. Or at least, she hadn't before tonight. But then again, she'd never been jilted before, either.

  And like it or not, she felt too damn good against him. With no conscious effort on his part, he tightened his arms around her, cradling her close against him before he suddenly realized what he was doing. Biting off a curse, he quickly dropped his hands to her waist and put some breathing space between them.

  "Somebody's had a little too much to drink, and it isn't me," he said, frowning down at her when she murmured a protest. "You're going to regret that tomorrow."

  Her smile faded, leaving her looking lost and lonely. "I'm going to regret a lot of things tomorrow. What's one more?"

  She had a point, but still, it broke Nick's heart to see her this way. Damn Thomas! he thought furiously. Whatever doubts he'd had about getting married, he could have found a hell of a better way to break things off. He must have known weeks ago that he wasn't going to be able to go through with the ceremony, so why hadn't he told Merry then? Why had he waited and jilted her in front of the whole damn town?

  "You don't have anything to regret, Mer," he said quietly. "You didn't do anything wrong."

  Lifting stark eyes to his, she made no attempt to hide her pain. "I'm not so sure about that," she whispered. "It wasn't just anyone that Thomas didn't want to marry. It was me. So I have to ask myself … what did I do to drive him away?"

  "Nothing! My God, you can't believe you're responsible for this!"

  But she did—he could see it in her eyes, in the tears that welled there and started to spill over her lashes. Up until then, she'd been a tower of strength, facing her friends and family with a grace that he couldn't help but admire. But even she had her breaking point, and he had a feeling she'd just reached it. She started to cry, and there didn't seem to be anything she could do to stop it.

  Alarmed, Nick knew the last thing she wanted to do was break down with the whole world watching. "C'mon," he murmured, hustling her off the dance floor before anyone noticed there was anything wrong. "I'm getting you out of here."

  The crowd closed around them the second they stepped off the floor, and for a second, Nick didn't think he was going to be able to make his way through. But something in his face must have told people to back off because they parted like the Red Sea. Within seconds, he was leading Merry away from the patio and around the side of the house to where the cars were parked out front.

  He intended to take her home to her house so she could be alone and cry in private, but she had other ideas. The minute he helped her into the passenger seat of his car, then came around to join her behind the wheel, she sniffed, "I don't want to go home."

  In spite of the tears still streaming down her beautiful face, she had that stubborn set to her jaw, the same one he'd seen for the first time when they were both six years old. Over the years, he'd learned all too well that there was no budging her once she stuck out her chin. Still, he had to try.

  "C'mon, Merry, don't be that way," he pleaded as he carefully made his way through the parked cars. "It's been a hell of a day and you've had too much to drink. You need to go home and get out of that dress and get some rest."

  "This was supposed to be my wedding night," she whispered brokenly, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was suddenly chilled. "Don't make me go home. I don't think I could bear it."

  His teeth clenched on an oath, Nick wanted to kick himself. He hadn't thought of that, hadn't considered what it would be like for her when she went home to her lonely house and the empty bed that she'd expected to share with her new husband. She'd have to face the night alone, with nothing but what-ifs for company.

  Damn Thomas! He didn't have a clue what he'd done to her, and there was nothing Nick could do to ease her pain … except be there for her as long as she wanted company so the night wouldn't be so lonely. "All right," he said gruffly. "Forget going home. It's early yet anyway. So where would you like to go? Just name it and we're there."

  She considered the possibilities for all of five seconds. "I don't know. Someplace quiet, where I don't have to deal with people. Someplace like … the lake! We can watch the moon come up over the water."

  It wasn't the place he would have picked—what she really needed was a strong cup of coffee at Ed's Diner—but this was her night to be indulged. "The lake it is," he said easily, and turned north once they reached the highway and left the ranch behind.

  * * *

  Bear Lake was really little more than a large pond, but it was a popular recreational spot for the locals all year round. Ice fishermen claimed it in the winter, and the water-skiers and kids took over the place in the summer. It was the teenagers who came there at night to neck, however, that earned the place its reputation as a lover's lane. Not a night went by, summer and winter, that Nick didn't have to drive out there, clear the young lovers out, and send them home.

  And tonight was no different. The kids were there in droves, which wasn't surprising. It was a warm June night, the moon was full, and most of the parents in town were at the McBride place for Merry's wedding reception. And while the cat was away, the mice would play.

  Noting the cars that were discreetly parked under trees all around the lake, he couldn't help but grin as he remembered the nights he, too, had sneaked off to the lake with one of the girls from school. Old man Hubbard had been the sheriff back then, and he, too, had made his own nightly trips around the lake looking for errant teenagers. Years from now, Nick imagined, another sheriff would continue the tradition, just as he had. Some things never changed.

  "I've got a little official business to take care of," he told Merry, then switched on the spotlight on his car. Reaching for the mike of his radio, he began to slowly drive around the lake. "It's time to go home, boys and girls," he said over his loudspeaker. "The lake is for day use only and closes at nine."

  It was the same speech he gave every night, and as usual, the result was the same. There were a few squeals of feminine dismay as his spotlight lit up
the interior of several cars, then engines roared to life, and a mass exodus began. Within minutes, the last taillight disappeared down the road, and they were alone.

  Satisfied, Nick turned to Merry. "Now that we have the place to ourselves, where would you like to park?"

  Her smile flashed in the darkness. "I thought the lake was closed."

  Unabashed, he grinned. "It is. And to make sure it stays that way, we're going to stick around for a while. So where would you like to park?"

  "Out on the point," she said without hesitation. "Then we can see the moon rise."

  It had been their favorite spot when they were teenagers, the place where she and Thomas and he had met to swim and fish and just hang out together. There, they'd talked about their hopes and dreams and how they were all going to one day change the world. It was there that Merry had first kissed Thomas, there that Thomas had given her his leather jacket and asked her to go steady, there that Nick played peacemaker whenever they had a fight.

  Driving out onto the point, he parked and cut the engine, then got out of his patrol car to join her at the picnic table the three of them had always called "theirs." It had weathered over the years, but it still bore the initials they'd carved into it the first day of their senior year in high school.

  Dropping down to a bench, her wedding dress pooling around her, Merry found the rough letters in the dark and traced them with her index finger. "We had some good times back then, didn't we?" she said with a melancholy smile. "Remember when Thomas smuggled his pet duck into church and it started quacking right in the middle of Reverend Johnson's sermon? I thought he was going to have a stroke right there in front of the entire congregation."

  Nick chuckled, his brown eyes dancing at the memory. "He got so upset he pulled his toupee off and the organist fell off her bench! God, I'd forgotten about that."

  "And the time Thomas climbed the tree outside my bedroom window and you distracted my mother by pretending you had appendicitis?" she laughed.

  "How could I forget," he retorted, grinning. "Joe came home early and caught Thomas hanging from the tree, and I thought we were all three toast."

  "What do you mean all three? The only punishment you and Thomas got was a stern lecture from my mother. I was put on restriction and didn't get to see Thomas anywhere but at school for a month. It was the longest month of my life."

  Dear Lord, how she'd missed him! And she'd still gotten to see him every day at school. Now she wouldn't be seeing him at all. He was gone, out of her life, and he wouldn't be coming back. Just thinking about it made her want to lay her head down on the table and cry her eyes out.

  But she couldn't. Because if she did, she didn't think she'd ever be able to stop. Not this time. The hurt was too raw, too strong, and what little control she'd had earlier was all used up.

  Her eyes burning from the tears she wouldn't allow to fall, she jumped to her feet, in desperate need of distraction. "I'm hot," she announced. "I think I'll go swimming."

  Surprised, Nick just blinked at her. "You can't. The lake's closed."

  Undaunted, she just cocked her head and mockingly arched a brow at him. "Then I guess you'll just have to arrest me, won't you, Sheriff?"

  When she stepped out of her shoes, then reached under the full skirt of her wedding dress to shimmy out of her panty hose, Nick told himself she wouldn't actually strip right there in front of him. She was just playing with him, pushing his buttons—and, he silently added, doing a damn good job of it. But she wouldn't really go through with it. Not Merry. She liked to tease, but that was as far as it went. The second he called her bluff, she'd back down in a hurry.

  Satisfied he had everything under control, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the picnic table to watch the show, daring her with his own arched brow. A split second later, she reached behind her for the zipper to her dress.

  He stiffened, his gaze narrowing dangerously. "Don't go there, Mer—"

  For an answer, the raspy whisper of her zipper growled like a tiger in the night.

  Shocked, he jumped toward her. "Dammit, Merry, don't you dare!"

  He was too late. Lightning quick, she pulled her zipper down the rest of the way, and with a silent sigh of satin, her wedding dress dropped to the ground. Between one heartbeat and the next, she stole the air right out of his lungs.

  He tried to tell himself that the lacy panties and bra she wore revealed little more than a bathing suit, and they'd gone swimming enough in the past that he shouldn't have been impressed. But the last time he'd been to the lake with her, they'd both been seniors in high school. And the woman who stood before him looked nothing like the girl from back then.

  Lord, she was beautiful! He'd always known that, but seeing her now in the glow of the moon rising on the eastern horizon, she was breathtaking—there was no other way to describe her. Tall and willowy, with her dark hair swept up off her shoulders and her eyes deep, mysterious pools of sapphire, she looked like a wood nymph there in the darkness.

  He wanted to reach for her, to touch, to run his hands over her to see if her skin was as soft as it looked in the moonlight, but he didn't dare move for fear she would vanish right before his eyes. His heart slamming against his ribs, he couldn't get over her total lack of awareness of her own beauty. He'd known other pretty women who used their looks as leverage to get what they wanted out of life, but Merry wasn't like that. Intelligent and loyal, she had a kind, generous heart and, thanks to her mother's teachings, was much more interested in the kind of person you were than what you looked like. And that made her even more beautiful—and even more impossible to resist.

  Which was why every single man he knew, including himself, was in love with her.

  "Put your dress back on right this minute," he ordered sternly, "before somebody drives in and sees you."

  "No," she said obstinately. "I'm going swimming."

  "Don't even think about it," he warned.

  He might as well have saved his breath. Ignoring him, she turned and headed for the water.

  He should have just let her go. It would have been the wise thing to do. It wasn't like she was in any danger. True, she'd had too much to drink, but she wasn't so tipsy that he had to worry about her drowning. She'd be just fine.

  But even as he tried to convince himself of that, he found himself turning to follow her. It wasn't until he felt the water lap around the legs of his pants that he realized he was still wearing his tux!

  "Damn you, Mer, now you've done it! You owe me for this tux!"

  Not the least bit perturbed, she only laughed … and splashed him. Within seconds, they were both playing in the water like a couple of kids.

  * * *

  Later, Nick couldn't have said how long they stayed in the water. Merry was laughing and teasing and seemed to have forgotten, for the moment, at least, what had brought them to the lake at that hour of the night. And Nick had no intention of reminding her. If she wanted to forget, he was certainly giving her the chance to do so. But it couldn't last, and all too quickly, her smile began to fade, her laughter to wane. Just that easily, her tears were back.

  It was a warm night, but a gentle breeze against wet skin soon had Merry shivering. Huddling with her shoulders under the water, she hugged herself and announced through chattering teeth, "I'm cold."

  "Hang on," Nick said. "I'll get you a blanket out of the trunk of my car."

  He always kept one or two blankets for an emergency, and when Merry rose out of the water like Aphrodite a few minutes later and started toward him, there was no question in his mind that this was an emergency. Silently groaning at the sight of her lacy underclothes plastered to her body, it was all he could do to keep his hands steady and his expression closed as he wrapped the blanket around her slender form.

  He could have been a monk for all the emotion he displayed. Then he spoke and gave himself away. "Better?" he asked huskily.

  Chilled and caught up in her misery, she didn't, thankfully, notice
. "Y-yes. Just give me a minute and I'll be fine."

  But five minutes later, she was still trembling. Seated at their picnic table, the blanket wrapped tight around her and her hair dripping on her bare shoulders, she looked absolutely miserable. Nick knew he should have insisted on taking her home then, but he couldn't forget the pain in her voice when she'd told him she didn't want to spend her wedding night alone. And that just gave him one more reason to despise his old friend Thomas. Damn him! How could he have done this to her?

  "I'm going to light a fire," he said gruffly. "Maybe that'll help. Sit tight and let me collect some wood."

  Within minutes, he had a fire crackling in the fire pit by the table. Sighing in relief as the heat seeped into her, Merry stared into the flames and tried not to think of the cabin she and Thomas had rented for their honeymoon. They'd wanted someplace private and secluded, where they could completely escape from the world, and the cabin had seemed perfect. A hundred miles away and located high in the mountains on a private alpine lake, it had come equipped with everything they could possibly want, from a hot tub to a fireplace, not to mention enough food to feed an army.

  They would have been there by now, Merry thought as she hugged the blanket around her. Thomas would have carried her over the threshold, then built a fire in the fireplace and opened a bottle of champagne. After a toast, they would have spent the rest of the night making love.

  But there was no cabin in the mountains, no honeymoon, no lovemaking in front of the fireplace. And no husband.

  Emotions pulled at her, tying her in knots. She wanted to rage, to scream, to cry. Then her gaze fell on her wedding dress, which still lay in a heap on the ground where she had stepped out of it. Without a thought, she scooped it up and turned toward the fire.