A bell tinkled overhead, and they stepped into the shop. One thing was clear—Aunt Clarisse wasn’t going to accept any dampening of her happiness. A wriggle of worry wormed its way up inside Lily’s stomach. If Aaron was a con man, Clarisse would be crushed.
Harper Kemp was a slim, redheaded woman of almost thirty. She wore tortoiseshell glasses, and her hair was twisted up in a loose bun on the top of her head, a few curls coming loose. She poked a pen behind her ear when they entered, and she came out from behind the counter.
“Good morning, ladies!” she said with a smile. “This is an exciting day, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see you in this dress, Clarisse. I think we’ve managed perfection this time.”
Aunt Clarisse’s cheeks grew pink and she folded her hands in front of her. “Well, I’d like to look respectable.”
“You’ll look more than respectable,” Harper replied with a smile of pure delight. “You’ll be beautiful. I’ll be right back with your dress.”
Harper disappeared, and Clarisse looked over at Lily with a nervous smile. “I hope you like it.”
Lily had never stood in this bridal shop before. She’d never been a bride or a bridesmaid and had no reason to come inside. Yet being here made her aunt’s wedding seem so much more concrete. This was happening—and very soon.
And yet her mind wasn’t completely on her aunt’s wedding, either. She was still going over that kiss in her mind—the feeling of Bryce’s soft lips pressed against hers. If he’d been pushy, more insistent, she’d never have kissed him back, but his gentle kiss that asked for nothing more...
She pulled mind back to the present.
“Of course I’ll love it,” Lily said. “Wow. It feels so real, doesn’t it?”
“The last time I was here,” Clarisse said softly, “for myself, that is, I was terrified. Three days before I came into this shop to start looking at dresses, your uncle Earl had called off the wedding.”
“What?” Lily eyed her aunt curiously.
“I didn’t tell anyone,” she said with a shake of her head. “It lasted one night, and the next morning we made up and our plans continued, but when I came into this shop to choose a dress, I have to confess, I was terrified that something would happen and Earl and I wouldn’t get married after all. I mean, if he could get cold feet once, right?”
“But obviously, you did get married,” Lily pointed out.
“Oh yes, we did. I found out later that my father had a talk with Earl and told him that they were putting down money on the dress and if he wasn’t going to be man enough to get married, then now was the time to back out. Earl told my father he was committed. So my father took me dress shopping and we chose a gown that very day. He put down the deposit in cash and I remember I’d never seen so much money at one time...”
Lily remembered the pictures from her aunt’s sitting room. They were faded color prints of the wedding where Clarisse was slim and petite and Earl was lanky and gangly-looking. Clarisse beamed up at her brand-new husband in those photos, wearing a lace gown with a long train. Clarisse and Earl hadn’t been able to have children, but their hearts were big enough for all their nieces and nephews.
“But this time,” Clarisse said, “it’s different.”
Lily looked at her aunt curiously. “Because you’ve been married before?”
“I know what to expect this time,” Clarisse agreed, “but I’m not afraid that he’ll change his mind and bolt on me. I’d never been so relieved than when Earl actually said the words I do. But with Aaron, it just feels different. I’m more secure, I suppose.”
Lily didn’t know what to say. She’d never been married herself, and she had no words of wisdom for a bride more than twice her age. What she wanted to say was “Be careful, Auntie! He might not be what you think he is,” but she didn’t dare. Not here. She was saved from thinking up an answer by Harper returning with a plastic-covered dress on a hanger.
The dress was ivory silk and looked to be tea length with a fitted skirt. It had a sash of pearl pink at the waist and a little sleeved jacket that went with it. When Clarisse saw it, she let out a shaky sigh. It was a beautiful dress—perfect for her aunt and for the occasion—and Lily couldn’t help the mist that rose in her eyes.
“Wow,” Lily whispered. “I love it.”
“How do you feel, Clarisse?” Harper asked.
Clarisse fingered the material tenderly. “Like a bride,” she said softly.
“Now we just need to see you in it,” Harper said, dropping the plastic over the dress once more. “Shall we?”
The women disappeared into a changing room, and Lily stood in the center of the store, her eyes moving over the dresses on display. Her mind was still most firmly on that kiss. She shouldn’t have done it—she had a choice in the matter, too. She should have said something noble and definitive about her role as his hostess and how they both knew he was leaving... But all thoughts had drained from her head looking into those ice-blue eyes.
She paused in front of a dress, looking at it wistfully. She had trouble seeing her own wedding in her thoughts about the future. That part was blurry, but she could imagine herself later on, after the wedding, when she and her guy settled into regular life. She’d be running the bed-and-breakfast, and her husband would come home after work in the evening and play with the kids in the backyard while she finished up some canning. They’d be Mr. and Mrs. and the Comfort Creek Bed-and-Breakfast would be a joint venture. When she imagined what her Mr. might look like, for some reason, the face that kept popping into her mind was Bryce’s. She blushed when she realized what she was doing.
It was that kiss. Just a kiss, she reminded herself. Neither of them had been thinking straight, obviously, and she couldn’t make more of it than that.
Not him, she told herself firmly, and when her imagination wouldn’t comply, she pushed the thoughts away.
One of the main dresses on display was a white dress with a tulle princess skirt. The bodice was worked with silver thread and tiny pearl beads. It was stunning—much more adventurous than Lily would ever wear, but still, it drew her eye and her curious fingertips. If she were getting married, would she allow herself the luxury of trying on such a dress? Or would she go straight to the dresses she could legitimately afford? Being the practical woman she was, she’d likely stick to her budget with the tenacity she showed for most decisions in her life.
The changing room opened, and Lily pulled her fingers away as if they’d been burned and put her hands behind her back. She didn’t know why she felt so wrong about touching the dress. Surely, many a bride had touched that particular dress in her perusal of the store, but Lily wasn’t here as a bride. She was here for her aunt.
Aunt Clarisse stood in front of a three-paneled mirror, and Lily couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. Aunt Clarisse, who always looked most comfortable in an apron, suddenly looked every inch a bride.
The ivory material skimmed over Clarisse’s ample curves, ending midcalf. The pink sash accentuated her waistline, and the little jacket brought the whole look together in a neat, elegant package. On her head, she wore a faux diamond fascinator with a spray of gauzy veil that slipped down over her forehead. Harper handed her a show bouquet to hold, and when Clarisse turned to face Lily, she had to swallow back the lump in her throat.
“You look gorgeous,” Lily breathed. “Really, truly...just beautiful!”
“When is the big day?” Harper asked.
“This weekend,” Clarisse said, turning back to the mirror, and Lily felt her stomach drop.
This was all fine and good to see her aunt so happy and beautiful, but after that wedding day, real life would continue. If Aaron had ulterior motives, then Bryce had very little time left to dig up the truth.
Lord, she prayed silently, if there is something we need to know, please let us find it. And please don’t let
him break my aunt’s heart.
Chapter Ten
That evening, Bryce stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Lily’s female family members pored over a seating chart, scissors and various crafting supplies held aloft as they worked. A huge poster board lay on the kitchen table next to some rectangles of card stock, metallic pens and various decorations to be glued in place. They were working on place cards to be used during the reception.
One of the older women cradled Piglet in her arms, looking lovingly down into her sleeping face as if the mayhem around her wasn’t even happening. That was the life, when you could sleep through such chaos. Piglet had it better than she realized.
Lily paused next to Bryce, a plate of cookies in one hand. She wore a pair of jeans and a blue blouse that set off her eyes—not that Bryce would mention it. He’d wanted to talk to her about that evening on the swing, but everyone had arrived already before he got off his shift, and there hadn’t been a chance. Maybe that was for the best, after all. If they could just move past it, pretend it hadn’t happened, maybe it would actually be like it hadn’t happened. Did that ever work?
The plate of fragrant chocolate chip cookies in Lily’s hands drew Bryce’s attention, and he nabbed a couple of them as they watched the women argue.
“You absolutely cannot put Bruce next to Ian,” Lily’s mother, Iris, was saying. “They’ll come to blows. Seriously. What are you thinking?”
“They’re grown men!” another woman shot back. “It’s forty-five minutes of their time, and they can fill their mouths with food.”
“Ian will arrive drunk, you know that,” Iris retorted.
“So where should we put him? He has to be as far from Bernice and Karl as possible...”
Iris looked a good deal like her daughter—older and more mature, obviously, but she had the same delicate cheekbones and an identical smile. Her hair was ash blond, and this evening she wore it pulled back into a ponytail, and she still wore the supermarket uniform from work.
“They’re a force to be reckoned with,” Bryce murmured.
“That they are,” Lily agreed softly, then she chuckled. “Sometimes it’s better to just back away and let them at it.”
Bryce took a bite of the cookie and heaved a sigh of momentary contentment. Could she ever bake! These cookies were better than his own mother’s, and that was saying something.
“We haven’t found out anything more about Piglet’s mom,” Bryce said quietly. “She just...disappeared.”
Lily sighed. “It’s hard to imagine. I’m already so attached. I don’t even want to give her up to Bev Starchuck when she gets back in a few days.”
He could see Lily’s love for the baby in the way in the little things—like how she ran her fingers over Piglet’s tiny hands, or how she played with that shock of black hair.
“We’ll keep looking, of course,” Bryce added.
“I know...” She didn’t sound like that reassured her at all.
“So, have you found out anything more about Aaron?” Lily asked.
That’s right. Back to his reason for being here in this kitchen—the suspicious fiancé.
“I talked to the chief, and he says that he hasn’t gotten anything yet, but he understands the time pressure here.”
“Okay...” She frowned, nodded. He wished he could do something to relieve her anxiety over this wedding. But he couldn’t speed this up any more than he already had.
“If it turns out that Aaron is a con,” Lily said, after a moment, “it’ll be awful for Clarisse. I saw her in her wedding dress today, and if you could see the way her eyes lit up when she saw that dress—”
“Hey, it isn’t like you’re fabricating any of this,” Bryce said quietly. “We’re just looking into it.”
“Then why do I feel so guilty?”
“Because you’re sensitive,” he replied with a shrug, and her gaze snapped up toward him. “Seriously. That’s the reason why. Sensitive people often feel guilt for things that they aren’t responsible for just because they are close enough to feel the discomfort of others. This isn’t on you, Lily. You haven’t done anything, and if the worst should turn out to be true, it still won’t have anything to do with you.”
He’d seen it often enough in his line of work. He was a first responder who dealt with people at the worst times of their lives. The people who often felt the worst about a situation were the bystanders who had no control over anything. But witnessing another’s distress stabbed them deeply.
As a cop, he’d had to learn how to talk himself out of that kind of response. He was there to help. There were bad guys to blame for bad things. He couldn’t allow himself to feel illogical guilt because he’d witnessed the fallout of someone else’s crime. But that said, if Aaron turned out to be anything less than a Boy Scout, he’d take some personal pleasure in making sure he paid for any misery he put that sweet woman through. He might not know Clarisse Clifton beyond one evening spent at her home, but he could see how much Lily loved her. She didn’t deserve to have her heart mangled.
“And who are these people?” someone asked, pointing at the dog-eared list.
“His family,” Iris replied. “Of course.”
“Well, who needs to be separated among them?”
All eyes turned to Lily. “None, apparently.”
There were a few eye rolls.
“So what makes them so perfect?” one woman asked with a huff. “No one needs to be seated separately? They have no friction, these people?”
“Can I see that?” Bryce asked, and Iris glanced at him curiously.
“Sure.” She passed it over, but she didn’t take her eyes off of him as he glanced down the list of last names. There wasn’t one Bay in the list, but if these were Aaron’s family members, then this was a clue into his identity.
He smiled and handed it back. He’d love to copy it down, but he couldn’t—not until the women had left—but this could speed up their investigation.
Piglet started to squirm and fuss, and the woman holding her put her up onto her shoulder and started to rub and pat her back soothingly. The older woman looked like a pro to him, but Piglet wasn’t having it.
“Lily?” the older woman asked.
Lily now stood by the stove, wearing a pair of oven mitts as she pulled out another tray of cookies.
“Hand her to Bryce, would you?” Lily said. “He’s got the touch with her.”
All the women’s eyes turned to Bryce now; he felt heat rise in his cheeks. What was it about this roomful of women that made him feel like a ten-year-old with his hand in the cookie jar? They regarded him in surprise for a moment, but when she passed him the baby, Piglet settled right down and snuggled against his chest.
“Well, I’ll be...” Iris said.
“Huh,” the aunt said with an incredulous shake of her head. “What do you make of that?”
All eyes turned to Lily now, and her cheeks bloomed pink. She looked helplessly from Bryce to her family.
“I don’t know,” she said shaking her head. “She likes him.”
There was silence.
“He’s actually quite charming, you know,” she added.
Was he? He liked hearing her say that. In her eyes, he seemed bigger, stronger, better somehow, than he was in a mirror. Charming—he’d never have billed himself that way, but he liked the sound of it coming from her. Lily shook her head and laughed.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” she said. “Let’s finish up this seating plan and get those place cards finished. I’m supposed to be running a business here.”
As if Lily could even argue professionalism right now with her boarder holding the baby. The women, thankfully, turned back to their work of seating arrangements, and Bryce looked down at Piglet fondly.
“Hey, you
,” he whispered. “Did you miss me or something?”
Piglet blinked up at him, then her eyes drifted shut once more. He couldn’t help but feel a little smug about her preference for him. He’d kind of missed her, too, if he had to admit to it. That wasn’t a good thing—it would make his goodbye that weekend that much harder—but he was glad he’d met the tiny girl.
Lily stood at the stove scooping cookies off the pan with a spatula and depositing them onto a plate. She worked with expert ease, her hands seeming to know what to do. She was beautiful—even more so when she was focused on a job she enjoyed, like this one. He could see her happiness in the way she held herself, the way her shoulders were squared and the way her eyes shone.
She lifted the last cookie onto her spatula, then her gaze moved in his direction and she held the baked good toward him wordlessly. He shifted Piglet in his arms to free a hand and took the warm cookie off the spatula. He blew on it—it was more than warm now that it was in his hands—and took a gooey bite.
“Thanks,” he said past the bite of cookie in his cheek.
Her response was a smile, but it sparkled in her eyes, and she turned again toward the table of ladies.
Stop enjoying this, he told himself gruffly. This isn’t yours.
The baby in his arms, the beautiful woman across the kitchen, the family arguing at the table—none of this was his. It was tempting in a way he’d never felt before, even with Kelly, but it was firmly out of reach. And he’d best remember it. This was a closed door.
* * *
The evening wore on. Lily tucked Emily into her little bassinet and put it into the other room where it was quieter and she could sleep away from the strong kitchen lights. Bryce asked for the list of Aaron’s family members, and she’d slipped it to him before he headed upstairs to his room.
Lily had some leftover cookies that she’d slid into the fridge out of sight so that she could send them home to her brothers. They’d know that she thought of them.
It had been a productive couple of hours. The seating arrangements were finalized to everyone’s satisfaction, the place cards were finished up, and they’d gone over last-minute preparations for the ceremony. If this wedding didn’t happen, there was going to be a lot of wasted work that had gone into it.
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