The Best Man Takes a Bride

by Stacy Connelly

  “Look at her now, Jamison.” The little girl was focused on the ceremony taking place, throwing her arm out and tossing imaginary flower petals. “She’s fine.”

  “No thanks to me.”

  “Jamison...”

  “I don’t know if I can do this, Rory. To be the kind of father Hannah deserves. I’ve already made so many mistakes. I wasn’t there when she needed me most—”

  “You’re here now.”

  “But when I get back home...”

  Jamison raked a hand through his hair. How was he supposed to juggle being a full-time father and full-time lawyer when he couldn’t keep an eye on his daughter during a five-minute phone call?

  “You can do this.” Rory caught his hand in hers, her blue eyes shining with the faith that had been there from the start. A faith that made him believe he could do anything...as long as she was by his side.

  “I can’t—I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you,” he blurted out. “I don’t want to say goodbye.”

  “What?”

  Pulling Rory into his arms, he pressed his forehead against hers. “After Ryder and Lindsay’s wedding, I don’t want that to be the end.”

  “Jamison, what—what are you saying?”

  “Rory, I—we can make this work, right? Somehow?” He heard the desperation in his own voice but couldn’t make the words stop spilling over one another. “We can call and text and maybe I can make it up here for Labor Day weekend...”

  “Labor Day,” she echoed weakly.

  “We’re good together, Rory. I want to give our relationship a chance.”

  Reaching up, she traced her fingers along his jaw, her touch tender, but her smile as sad as he’d ever seen. “Labor Day is a holiday, Jamison. Not a relationship.”

  “Rory—”

  “We agreed, remember? When this is over, we say goodbye.”

  He stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides. She was turning him down? Sticking to the rules as if this was some kind of game they were playing?

  “You can’t mean that.”

  “I know you’re scared, Jamison.”

  “Scared?”

  “Of taking care of Hannah on your own.”

  Scared? Hell, he was terrified! But that wasn’t why he wanted Rory in his life...was it? Okay, maybe his words had come across like a knee-jerk reaction to the panic rushing through him, but he’d still meant them.

  “Miss Rory,” Hannah piped in, breaking the moment. “Are you crying?”

  Lifting her chin and turning her face away from him, she murmured, “Just a little.” More now than when the couple had spoken their vows a few minutes earlier.

  Vows joining two lives as one, to have and to hold, from this day forward... Vows of forever.

  Not for a weekend. Not for a holiday.

  Was he really surprised Rory had turned him down when he’d offered so much less than she deserved?

  Gazing up at the two adults, the little girl said, “You hafta kiss her, Daddy. Like when my tummy didn’t feel good. You kissed me and the next day—” Hannah threw her arms out wide “—I was all better.”

  “Listen to your daughter, Jamison.” Rory offered him another sad yet tender smile. “You can do this. You already know how to make it all better.”

  If this was better, Jamison thought as he followed his daughter’s instructions and gave Rory a heartbreaking kiss that already felt too much like goodbye, he’d sure as hell hate to see what he could do to make things worse.

  * * *

  Hannah twirled back and forth in the middle of the bridal shop, the full skirt swishing around her knees. The cream-colored taffeta with its burgundy velvet sash and hint of matching lace at the hem fit perfectly. “Do I look like a real princess?”

  “The prettiest princess ever.” Rory and Hannah had met up with Lindsay at the shop to double-check the alterations and pick up the dress. The little girl beamed back, and her joy was enough to bring the sting of tears to Rory’s eyes.

  The days leading up to Ryder and Lindsay’s wedding were the best and worst of Rory’s life. She lived each day they were together—whether it was window-shopping in town, having a picnic at the gazebo, buying clothes for Hannah. But a part of her mourned the moment she closed her eyes, knowing each morning meant one day closer to Jamison and Hannah leaving.

  But, oh, those nights...when Jamison pulled her into his arms, determined to remind her just how good they were together...

  Making love with him was so magical, so amazing, Rory almost gave in. Almost agreed to what he offered. To late-night phone calls, video chats between meetings, the occasional stolen weekend. And she would have—if he’d told her he loved her.

  “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to tear up at this part,” Lindsay said gently as she handed Rory a tissue once Hannah went to change back into her regular clothes. “Although I can’t blame you. If I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t even think that was the same girl from just a few weeks ago.”

  Rory dabbed at her eyes. “Time here in Clearville has done wonders for her.”

  “You have done wonders for her. For her and for Jamison.”

  She crumpled the tissue in her hand. Oh, how she wanted to believe Jamison had changed but, forcing a laugh, she said, “The same Jamison who wanted Ryder to get a prenup?”

  Lindsay gave her a chiding look along with another tissue. “The same Jamison who apologized to Ryder and to me. He was looking out for Ryder—I can’t really blame him for that.”

  He was a good friend, a good father, a good man... Was it any wonder she’d fallen so in love with him?

  “We agreed. When our time together is over, we say goodbye.”

  “Well, it’s not like it was written in stone. You can change your mind. Something tells me you have changed your mind.”

  “It doesn’t matter if I’ve changed my mind. Not if Jamison hasn’t changed his.”

  “And you’re so sure he hasn’t?”

  I can’t do this without you.

  She’d heard it before from grateful brides and grooms. How Rory was the glue bringing together all the thousands of tiny details that made up a wedding. How they never could have managed it all on their own. But then the big day was over, and the newly married couples went on with their lives.

  It would be the same for Jamison and Hannah. They would go back to San Francisco, back to their lives.

  Without her.

  “You’re sure he hasn’t changed his mind?” Lindsay pressed.

  “He—he said he doesn’t want our relationship to end after the wedding.”

  Lindsay’s brows shot to her hairline. “But that’s huge!”

  “It’s not—he said we’re good together...” Aware of Hannah on the other side of the curtain, she mouthed, “As in—in bed.”

  An impish smile played around her friend’s lips. “And are you?”

  “Not helping!”

  “Look, Rory.” Turning serious, Lindsay said, “I can only imagine how Jamison had to bury all his feelings, all his emotions simply to get through a single day when Hannah was missing. And considering how long she was gone, that’s digging pretty deep.”

  Rory’s heart hurt for all he had gone through. “I know.”

  “So how close do you think you have to get for a man whose feelings are buried that far down to admit he needs you—even a little?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Last chance, man,” Ryder warned. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  The groomsmen had gathered in a small room at the back of the hotel to get ready for the ceremony. Standing in front of the full-length mirror, Ryder was straightening his bow tie for the tenth time. Jamison might have thought his friend was nervous if not for the huge grin on the other man’s face. “Still don’t know
why we couldn’t have gone with clip-ons.”

  “Leave the stupid thing alone, will you? It’s fine. And the only speaking I’ll be doing is when I give the best man’s toast.”

  “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about...her.” Ryder tipped his head to the right, and Jamison felt his heart jump to his throat, pressing against his own too-tight tie.

  Rory had slipped in the back. Like at the previous wedding, her dress was simple, understated, a sleeveless beige-colored sheath she probably thought would help her fade into the background. As if that could ever be possible.

  She smiled at Robbie, giving the boy a high five when he showed her the rings carefully tied to the pillow he would carry. She adjusted Drew’s bow tie, helped Bryce with a cuff link and made Lindsay’s and Ryder’s fathers laugh at something she said.

  It was ridiculous to feel jealous, but he was. Of all of them. Of the ease and laughter they were sharing with Rory. An ease that had gone out of their relationship as the tension of a ticking clock marked each moment they were together.

  “No hard feelings, right?” Ryder mocked after taking one look at whatever was written on his face.

  “I told her I’d changed my mind.” But he knew now what he’d only started to figure out then. It wasn’t his mind Rory needed him to change.

  Seeming to come to the same conclusion, Ryder reached over and gave the back of his head a light tap. “Did you tell her you love her?”

  From the very beginning, from the first moment they met, Rory had told him she was a woman who lived and breathed love, romance and happily-ever-after. Little wonder she’d turned his half-baked, half-assed offer down.

  Never settle for less.

  Maybe his mother had had one thing right after all. And maybe it wasn’t too late to grab hold of more.

  * * *

  “One final touch!” Rory announced as she faced the groomsmen. They all looked so handsome, from Robbie to his grandfathers, but Jamison... She didn’t know if her heart could take seeing him so suave, so stunning, so San Francisco.

  If Hannah had changed into a girl Rory hardly recognized, well this—this was a man she didn’t know. The other groomsmen looked somewhat uncomfortable in the formal wear, clothes that didn’t quite fit despite quality tailoring. But Jamison... The tuxedo suited him, and why not? This was who he was. Jamison Porter, hotshot corporate lawyer.

  Her hands trembled as she reached for the white florist’s box. The pair who had brought the flowers were putting the final touches on the centerpieces in the ballroom and had asked if she might deliver the boutonnieres. She handed out a single burgundy rosebud to each of them, leaving Jamison for last.

  He caught her wrist as she reached out to hand him the flower. “I think I could use some help.”

  Ryder muttered, “You got that right,” as the groom turned toward the mirror, but the words hardly registered. Her pulse pounded in her ears as Jamison’s fingers stroked the underside of her arm.

  You can do this, Rory. It’s part of the job.

  The pep talk didn’t steady her nerves, but it was enough to jolt her into action. She slid her fingers beneath the lapel, doing her best to ignore the strength of his chest against her knuckles, the body heat transferred to the smooth fabric.

  “We need to talk.”

  She shook her head. “Not a good idea when I’m pointing a sharp instrument at your heart.”

  His chuckle vibrated against her fingers as she finally, finally slid the pearl-tipped pin into place. “After,” he qualified. “Tonight.”

  It would have to be tonight. Because there wouldn’t be any after tomorrow.

  * * *

  Rory didn’t know how she made it through the wedding. Hannah was the perfect little flower girl, practically skipping down the lace runner toward the gazebo, tossing the petals up in the air and then giggling as they rained down over her. The guests laughed along with her only to fall reverently silent as Lindsay stepped into view.

  She was a beautiful bride, but it was the love shining on her face that was truly breathtaking. And Ryder—the groom had laughed and joked his way through the rehearsal dinner the night before, but this time he was the one Jamison had to hand a handkerchief to as Lindsay walked down the aisle.

  Rory couldn’t meet Jamison’s gaze, not if she had any hope of smiling her way through the ceremony. She’d told the truth when she said she always cried at weddings, and if the tears streaming down her face when the couple spoke the words to have and to hold from this day forward weren’t tears of joy, well, no one else had to know.

  “Did you see me, Miss Rory? Did you see me throw the flowers?”

  Rory managed a genuine smile as Hannah raced into the ballroom, darting between the white-covered tables and fancifully dressed wedding guests. She’d been double-checking with the band, the servers and the bartender while the bridal party finished with the pictures. Everything was running smoothly, something Rory normally appreciated, but tonight, she could have used a minor emergency. Something to get her mind off the best man.

  She wanted to believe Lindsay could be right, that Jamison cared for her more than he was able to admit. But she was afraid of fooling herself again, of building another relationship on a lie—this time one of her own making.

  Bending down, she scooped Hannah into a hug and spun her around. “You were the best flower girl ever! I am so proud of you.”

  As Rory set her back on the ground, the little girl reached up to touch the crown of flowers circling her blond curls. Her eyes were wide as she said, “There were lots of people!”

  They’d talked about that at the rehearsal dinner. How the empty chairs would be filled with wedding guests watching her walk down the aisle. “Was that scary?”

  “Kinda scary. But then I saw my daddy waiting for me, and I wasn’t scareded anymore.”

  Rory wasn’t sure what made her turn at that moment, but as she did, Jamison walked through the ballroom’s carved double doors. His chestnut hair gleamed in the wall sconces’ warm lighting, and she knew the instant he spotted them. The joy, the anticipation...

  How many times had she seen it before—on the face of a groom waiting for his bride? Nerves trembled in her stomach, and Rory wrapped her arms around her waist. Not trying to still the overwhelming, frightening emotions swelling up inside her, but embracing them instead.

  Jamison was waiting for her...and maybe she didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

  * * *

  Hillcrest House’s dark-paneled ballroom was decked out in all its finery for the reception. White tablecloths covered a dozen or so round tables. Each chair had a large bow tied at the back. Burgundy and cream roses sparkled in cut-glass vases beneath the crystal chandelier, and a matching garland draped the front of the band’s raised platform stage, the cash bar and the tables offering a mix of appetizers and crudités.

  But for all the romantic touches and tasteful decorations, he could see only Rory. She might as well have been the only woman in the room. The only woman in the world. The only woman for him...

  Their gazes locked, and even from across the room he could see a slight shudder shook her slender body at the powerful impact.

  That’s it. You can do it. One foot in front of the other.

  But this time it wasn’t Hannah who needed the silent encouragement. He wove his way through the round tables and milled with wedding guests, his heart thundering in his chest. Past a growing collection of brightly wrapped wedding gifts, past the towering three-tiered wedding cake, past the photographer setting up to capture the moment when Lindsay and Ryder walked into the room as husband and wife...

  So focused on the beautiful wedding coordinator, he barely heard his name over the romantic ballad being played by the band.

  “Jamison!”

  But when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, he turned and did a quick
double take, hardly believing what he was seeing. “Louisa? Greg?” He stared at his in-laws. “What the—what are you doing here?”

  His beefy, sterling-haired father-in-law blustered about missing Hannah and wanting to see their little flower girl. Jamison raised a brow at his mother-in-law, wanting to know the real story.

  Blonde and trim with classic features she had passed down to her daughter and granddaughter, Louisa lifted her chin. “We want to make sure Hannah is being properly cared for while she’s here.”

  “Properly—is this because she got sick at the rodeo? Good Lord, Louisa! Hannah is fine! See for yourself.”

  Waving a hand toward his daughter, he expected Louisa’s rigid stance to loosen once she spotted her granddaughter. Instead, the woman froze, her expression icing over until Jamison half expected her to shatter. He followed her chilly gaze, his own reaction completely different as he saw Hannah and Rory together.

  Standing on the edge of the parquet dance floor, Rory held Hannah’s hand overhead as the little girl spun around, making her full skirts flare out from her skinny legs. Their combined laughter rippled through the elegant ballroom, washing over him like a warm wave.

  “I take it that’s your wedding coordinator.”

  “That’s Rory McClaren, yes.” Jamison sighed, trying to hold on to his patience.

  She’s lost her daughter. It can’t be easy for her to see Hannah so happy with a woman who isn’t her mother, who isn’t Monica.

  Rubbing his forehead, he said, “I still can’t believe you came all this way when we’ll be home on Monday.”

  “That isn’t what Hannah said.”

  “What?”

  “She said you didn’t want to say goodbye.”

  Jamison swallowed a curse. Clearly he needed to pay more attention to the conversations his daughter was having with her grandparents. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised by his mother-in-law’s overreaction, but he wouldn’t have expected Greg to go along with it. “And you came all this way because of that?”