Still The One

by Joan Reeves

  "No. Of course not. Why would I do something like this? You know I need this marriage." And he did. He needed it. He breathed deeply, nearly weak with relief. He might need a wife, but he sure didn't want one. Especially not Tiffany, and especially not now that he'd had a glimpse of bridezilla.

  Sheepishly, he smiled at Tiffany, knowing he wasn't going to proceed with the wedding now that he'd been granted a reprieve in the form of this rain-bedraggled woman. Whoever she was, she was the answer to his desperate prayer.

  Somehow, he'd make it up to Tiffany, he vowed, unable to feel any regret. Downright cheerful, he planned how he'd explain it. He'd liken it to a business deal that had fallen through. Old Tiff would understand. She had to because nothing on earth could make him marry her now. He rocked back on his heels, relieved at this turn of events.

  "Please. Wait. I can explain," the mud-smeared woman called out. A new round of mutters swept the church.

  Burke's smile faltered. He frowned. That voice! His brows snapped together. He straightened and focused his full attention on the woman.

  It couldn't be.

  He watched as she closed the distance between them. The rain had ruined her hair style. And her shoes. But it had done wonders for her plain dress, one of those black numbers women like to fill their closets with, molding it to a ripe body lushly curved in all the right places. Though the curves were more voluptuous, he still recognized that body.

  His eyes flew to the woman's face.

  No. It couldn't be.

  In the next instant, judging by the way his body responded, Burke faced the truth.

  It was!

  Beneath the sodden, straggling hair, was the living, breathing proof of the biggest mistake in his life. His ex-wife Ally Fletcher.

  Chapter 3

  "You!"

  All Burke's defenses went on red alert. Adrenalin rushed through his veins. If it were a choice of fight or flight, he'd definitely pick the former. A dizzying cocktail of emotions drugged his senses as he tried to figure out how Ally could have shown up at this time and this place.

  A flash flood of emotions hit him. First, relief. That gave way to a dazed joy. Then, in the next instant, all that was burned away by a nice, hot anger, leaving Burke filled with white-hot outrage amidst the six-year-old ashes of pain.

  How dare Ally burst in here like this and ruin his wedding? He ignored the small voice inside his head that reminded him of his own reluctance to marry Tiffany.

  Burke's anger at Ally's sudden reappearance in his life grew with each wobbly step she took. Did she think she could just rush into his life, and he'd welcome her back to his world with open arms? Well, she had another think coming. He crossed his arms. His jaw hardened with resolve. He'd be delighted to show Ally Fletcher just how over her he was.

  He'd fantasized for years about giving her a dose of her own medicine. How would she like a great big spoonful of heartbreak? His eyes narrowed on her face.

  Nothing would stop him from marrying Tiffany now, he vowed, especially if that was something Ally objected to. He smiled grimly and waited for his ex-wife to speak so he could show her exactly how little concern he had for her.

  Ally's step faltered. She studied Burke's forbidding expression and wished that she had handled things differently. She'd been crazy to fly down here unannounced. She should have called despite Granny Edith's objections. Even a singing telegram would have been preferable to facing him in front of all these people.

  Ally felt dizzy as she looked into Burke's hazel eyes. Oh! She remembered those eyes only too well. Once, they'd gazed at her with hot passion. Now, those eyes looked as hard and lethal as stone arrowheads.

  "Burke, let me explain," Ally said. She tried to brush the wet tendrils of hair from her forehead as she gathered her courage, but the mixture of rain and hair spray held the strands to her face as securely as nail glue. In that moment, she felt as ugly as when she'd been a chubby child. She fought the feelings of insecurity those memories brought. She was no longer that awkward child, she reminded herself.

  "Burke, get her out of here so we can get on with this," Tiffany demanded.

  Ally's icy stare could have chilled a martini as she contemplated Burke's bride. Ally disliked the woman on sight. She was exactly the type that Burke had always liked. A petite, blonde Barbie clone with a chest measurement greater than her IQ. In fact, his bride could be a twin to the woman Ally blamed for the breakup of her marriage.

  "I would like to speak to you, Burke," Ally said, ignoring the woman. "Privately, please," she added, determined to be rational and calm and unemotional.

  "Just go away, whoever you are," Tiffany ordered.

  Ally looked the woman up and down. She disliked everything about the woman, from her beautiful, flawless peaches and cream complexion to her tiny feet encased in rhinestone-trimmed white satin heels. How dare Burke's bride look so pristine and perfect after the day to which Ally had been subjected. Ally's dislike deepened.

  "What kind of stunt are you pulling, Ally?"

  Ally glared back at him. "This is not a stunt, Burke. And this is not easy for me to do. Please? Just hear me out."

  Burke's frown deepened. "Easy? When did you ever make it easy on me?" Burke's lips thinned. He braced his fists on his hips and faced the woman who was the hands-down winner of his biggest mistake. Even muddy and bedraggled, she still twisted his insides into knots. Ruthlessly, he shoved his burgeoning desire away. He was crazy, but not crazy enough to let his body countermand his common sense. Not this time.

  "I didn't come here to rehash the past," Ally said. A murmur from the crowd drew her attention. She looked over her shoulder.

  Burke realized the exact moment when she discovered that a hundred people were hanging on her every word. He eyed her rising blush with satisfaction.

  "This better be good. What the, uh," Burke remembered where he was, "what the heck are you doing here?" He crossed his arms, stared down at her as arrogantly as he could manage, and tapped his right foot impatiently.

  Ally swallowed hard. His tapping foot sounded like a ticking clock. On a time bomb. She gulped, acutely aware of the rashness of her actions since Granny had told her that Burke was getting married tonight. What had possessed her? If he was this upset with her for stopping the wedding, she didn't want to be within five miles of him when he discovered the reason why she'd interrupted the ceremony. He wasn't going to be a happy camper. And with good reason.

  "Ally?" His questioning voice held a note of warning.

  She stalled. Her gaze swept the small crowd. She recognized several of the guests. Some even waved to her. They had attended her wedding to Burke in this same church. The memory was bittersweet. Heavy on the bitter.

  Burke's grandfather sat on the groom's side of the church, just as he had during her own wedding to Burke. To her surprise, he winked at her. Ally managed a weak smile and nodded. She'd always liked Frederick Winslow.

  "Focus, Ally," Burke taunted. "Concentrate. What do you want?"

  "Want?" Her eyes flew to Burke's face. Even if he hadn't been standing three steps above her, he would still have towered over her by a few inches. She would not acknowledge the desire that made her toes curl when she looked at him. She wouldn't, she vowed silently.

  Now twenty-eight, Burke was even more gorgeous than when she'd married him. His shock of blonde hair was still thick and full. A few faint lines gave his face character and made him more appealing than ever. What did she want? Oh, baby! If only she could have what she wanted!

  "Ally!" Burke demanded sharply.

  "Yes, well," she said, horrified at how breathless she sounded. Her mouth snapped closed. She suppressed the unexpected desire. Don't even go down that road, she chided herself. But she couldn't stop the shiver that slid up her spine. He had the same sexy, long-lashed hazel eyes that could scorch her with a look. Why had she ever let him get away?

  "Oh, I get it." Burke rocked back on his heels, arms crossed as he surveyed her. "This little act i
s one of your spur of the moment impulses. Now that you're here you don't know what to say? Is this just a knee-jerk reaction to my remarriage? Same old Ally!" He jeered. "You haven't changed a bit."

  His harsh words froze the uncurling desire. Stung, Ally cried out, "That's not true."

  Cringing at her immature retort, she bit her tongue to keep from telling him that there was nothing about her that remotely resembled the insecure eighteen-year-old girl he had married six years ago. She had changed, and the process had been painful.

  Ally took a deep breath. With as much dignity as she could muster under the circumstances, she responded like a reasonable adult trying to deal with a temperamental child. "Maybe we should go somewhere to discuss this."

  Burke's voice dropped low. "You didn't want to talk six years ago," he murmured silkily. "As far as I can see there's nothing to discuss now." His eyes glittered with an emotion that challenged her. "So take a seat or leave."

  He smirked, as if he knew how much she would hate what he said next. "I'm getting married, and you can't do a thing about it."

  "Oh, you insufferable jerk!" So much for being a reasonable adult. "After all the trouble I went through just to get here. It's not my fault I arrived too late to stop the wedding before it started."

  "Would you get out of here so we can get on with this!" Tiffany interjected. "I'm getting married tonight. So please leave so we can get this over with."

  Ally stared at the woman. Get this over with? She made the wedding sound like something to cross off her to do list.

  "Go sit down," Burke ordered. "You can watch even though you weren't invited."

  "You can't get married!" Ally cried, exasperated. "Haven't you been listening?"

  "I can, and I will. Now sit down," he commanded sternly.

  Ally's last effort at calm serenity evaporated. "I will not. You can't order me around like an errant child. I have something to say to you, Burke Winslow, and you will listen or reap the consequences. And you won't like the consequences."

  The murmur from the guests rose in volume to a muted rumble interspersed with laughter and giggles. Ally blushed. Great. Maybe she should charge admission for providing the entertainment.

  "Very well, stand there. I don't care." He turned his back to Ally, grabbed Tiffany's hand in a death grip, and said to the minister, "Go ahead, Reverend."

  "Uh, Burke," the minister said with a gentle smile. "I can't do that until I hear what the young lady has to say. I'm sure she wouldn't have interrupted such a special occasion unless it was important."

  Tiffany jumped into the conversation. "Look, Reverend, I'm sure this is just a case of sour grapes. She's probably some cast-off girlfriend." She checked her watch. "It's getting late. I need to get this over with so I can pack. I've got a meeting in L.A. early in the morning."

  A fresh ripple of laughter greeted her statement. Ally stared at the blonde. She was upset about missing a meeting in L.A.? Was the woman completely blind to the man she was marrying?

  Ally looked at Burke. He didn't seem agitated in the least by his bride's remarks. What was going on here?

  "Please, Reverend, I'm certain we can sort this out afterwards. Right, Burke?" Tiffany asked.

  Burke nodded and muttered. "Yeah. Sure." He'd go through with this if it was the last thing he did. He'd show Ally.

  "But you can't," Ally protested.

  "Ally, go away," he ground out without turning around. He'd show her how it felt to be rejected. Ignored. Revenge was a bitter brew he was eager to sample. "You're not welcome here."

  A fresh buzz of conversation greeted his words. The wedding guests were having a field day. By tomorrow, the news of this would be all over Brookwood, he suspected. The weekly newspaper would probably feature it on page one.

  Surprisingly, his grandfather had not said a word. Burke turned slightly and glanced over at Frederick Winslow. He was surprised to see amusement gleaming on the older man's face. But then Granddad had tried to talk him out of marrying Tiffany.

  "Burke, you have to listen to me," Ally cried.

  "I don't have to do anything with you." He turned to face her. His lips curled in a jeering smile.

  His deliberate rudeness turned up the heat on Ally's temper up a notch. She should just let him go through with his dumb wedding. Then she'd laugh when he found out. But a pain centered around her heart at the thought of his marrying someone else. Especially the vision of blond loveliness standing next to him at the altar.

  "Okay. Okay. What is this all about?" Tiffany asked, throwing up her hands as she whirled around.

  "It's nothing, Tiffany." Burke answered. To Ally, he said, "I'm getting married, so just go back to Dallas where you've been hiding for the last six years."

  "I'm afraid I can't let you do that," Ally said. She was surprised that he had known where she lived.

  "Just how are you going to stop me?"

  His smirk was really getting to her. She jerked her head to the exit door. "Let's talk." Just because he was being a horse's ass didn't mean she had to act like one too. "By telling you something. In private, Burke."

  "I don't think we have anything to say to each other."

  "Stop being so blasted thick-headed and listen for just a minute," Ally demanded, losing the battle to hang onto her temper.

  "Can we please make some progress here?" Tiffany demanded. "Burke, go talk to her and get back here so we can finish this."

  "Don't call me thick-headed," Burke said, completely ignoring Tiffany. "I'd have thought that you would have grown up a little, but no. You're still the same headstrong girl you were when I first met you. You think you can just waltz in here and wrap me around your little finger again. Well, those days are over, baby."

  "Don't call me baby," Ally said between gritted teeth.

  "Don't tell me what I can and can't do. I'll call you anything I want. Just like I'll get married if I want to."

  "For heavens sake, you can't get married, you idiot!" Ally blazed.

  "And just why not?" Burke fired back.

  "Because you're still married to me!"

  Chapter 4

  "What?" Tiffany screeched.

  Involuntarily, Ally took a step backward, but she needn't have worried. Tiffany's ire was directed solely at Burke.

  "Why you. . . you," The would-be bride sputtered. Then she smacked Burke in the face with the lilies she held. For a little woman, she packed quite a wallop, Ally thought with grudging admiration.

  Orange pollen rained on his black tuxedo coat, and fragments of orange petals fell to the floor. Without another word, Tiffany whirled and stomped down the steps leading from the altar.

  "Wait a minute. I can explain!" Burke protested involuntarily, certain that he couldn't explain this in a million years. He hadn't a clue as to what was going on. The only thing he knew was that the deal with Sakamoto Limited was evaporating before his very eyes. But the overwhelming sense of relief he felt didn't allow him to feel too badly about that fact. The only thing he regretted was the embarrassment Tiffany was suffering. And that Ally had succeeded in disrupting his life again.

  "Wait, Tiff! Tiffany! Come back!" He called out, wanting to apologize yet knowing it was useless. Once Tiff got her back up, it took time for her to settle down.

  She didn't look back. "I'll talk to you when I get back from the coast," she yelled, punctuating each word with a slap of the wilted lilies against her side. Orange pollen smeared the skirt of the white wedding gown. To the assembled guests, Tiffany waved her hands as if shooing away a flock of curious pigeons. "Everybody just go home!"

  A ripple of laughter followed her irate words. Some of the guests rose, but most stayed seated. Obviously they thought the show wasn't yet over, Burke suspected. And in the small town of Brookwood, this had to be the best entertainment around. Actually, probably the only entertainment on a Friday night since high school football was a few months away.

  The guests no longer bothered keeping their voices down as they discussed the we
dding that would live on in the memory of the small town. Burke didn't dare risk a glance at his brother and his friends. He knew Rod, Dave, and Craig would never forget this. And they'd make damn sure he didn't either.

  Burke sighed. No use throwing caution, and pride, to the wind by chasing after his runaway bride. Tiff wouldn't listen to him until her injured pride recovered. In the past, he'd witnessed her ire at what she considered an insult. He'd often accused her of being related to both the Hatfields and the McCoys because of her talent for carrying a grudge. He shuddered, knowing he was in for it now. It just proved the old cliché: be careful what you wish for.

  "Burke?" The minister broke into his thoughts. "Would you like me to address your guests?"

  Burke rubbed his face with both hands, wishing he could wipe away the ill-fated wedding as easily. "Thanks, Reverend, but I'll take care of it."

  He looked first at his brother Rod and his friends Dave and Craig. Inwardly, he groaned. They were going to have a field day with this. Resigned, he turned to the congregation and was greeted by wide grins and snickers. His side of the church seemed to be taking this in stride. In fact they seemed to be having a heck of a good time.

  Unfortunately, the bride's side of the church was conspicuously empty. Tiffany's family and friends had already departed. He winced. This situation might be more delicate than he'd thought. Tiffany's father and brothers were bankers in Houston. In fact, they were his bankers. And they weren't noted for their sense of humor.

  "Sorry, folks, what can I say?" Burke shrugged. "Thanks for coming. If you're hungry, go on over to The Shrimp Boat. There's no point in wasting all that seafood. And the band should be great. I may even join you later." He forced a grin though he felt no amusement at the way the evening had turned out.

  With a determined stride, he descended the steps from the altar and stopped in front of Ally. In a soft, chilling voice, he spoke, "To you, I have a lot to say." He reached out and grabbed her arm. "I think we'll have that talk now."