Chasing the Runaway Bride (Bliss Series Book 3)

by Michelle Jo Quinn

  His grin went from one ear to the next. “Going for a swim.” And without hesitation, he ran, screaming, reached for the handle, swung his body up and released as he rose high above the lake. Moments later, his head bobbed up and he waved at me, urging me to do the same. “Come on in, Hannah! The water’s great.”

  I bit my lip before stripping down to my undies, kicking off my shoes, and taking off to join Danny in the water. I gasped when the rope pulled me up into the air, and screamed when I let go. The water was a great coolant after being under the hot sun. We were like two teenagers splashing at each other and chasing one another into and out of the lake, taking turns on the rope swing.

  As the skies clouded over, we laughed and treaded water. And in another second, we were holding onto each other. My breathing slowed as Danny held me in his strong arms. His hazel eyes turned brooding, his lips puckered.

  Caution bells rang in my ears.

  “We better go.” He raised his eyes to the clouds. “It looks like it might rain after all.”

  I followed him out of the water and put on my clothes, which instantly got soaked the moment they hit my body.

  “We don’t have far to go,” Danny said, and I just nodded.

  I helped him pull the canoe in and carried the picnic basket while he carried the oars. He seemed to know the lay of the land. I followed him quietly.

  Just that morning, I had dreamt about another man.

  As I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, my foot caught a root poking out of the ground and down I went.

  “Hannah! Shit!” Danny dropped the oars and ran back to me, and my wounded pride.

  “I’m fine.” I sat on the ground, bending my knees to assess the damage. Blood seeped out of the broken skin on my shin up to my right knee, and my right palm and arm.

  “Yeesh, you’re bleeding.”

  “It’s just a flesh wound, Danny.”

  But he ignored me. He scooped me up in his arms.

  “Please let me down. I can walk,” I protested, although my hands made their way around his neck.

  “Your ankle might be strained. I have a first aid kit in the house.” He ignored my protestations and kept moving.

  “What house?” As I asked the question, a log cabin appeared on our line of sight. “You live there?”

  Danny nodded. “Don’t worry, it looks better inside.”

  I didn’t know why he had said that because even from the outside, it was quite a place. It had a shingled roof, a porch and a balcony jutting out on the other side, facing the water. The greenery, shrubs and flowers around it were well cared for. When we reached the door, Danny asked me to open it.

  “You always leave your house unlocked?”

  “No one comes around here much. It’s just me and you.” Was it just me, or was that heavy with innuendo?

  He wasn’t wrong, though—it did look better inside. Actually, it matched. The house was professionally decorated. Danny couldn’t have done this on his own. Maybe he had even lived with a woman before. Maybe he brought one-night stands here.

  Danny propped me on a light blue couch, and asked me to stay put while he went to grab the kit. I barely had time to snoop before he came back with a large first aid bag. “I’m a volunteer firefighter.” Why wouldn’t he be?

  After he’d cleaned up the mess I’d made on my leg and arm, he brought me a change of clothes, a Harvard shirt and boxers, and carried me to the bathroom.

  “Just throw your wet clothes in the hamper and I’ll put them in the dryer. Then I’ll make us dinner.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yeah, is that okay? Or...do you want to go home now?”

  Did I? What did I want? Return to my parents’ house where I’d continue to ignore the pain and sorrow surrounding me? Or stay with Danny and let him take care of me, much like he had years before?

  “Hannah, what do you say?” His hazel caught the light, even though they were surrounded with thick dark lashes. He looked hopeful as he bit his lower lip.

  I touched his chin and made him release his lip. “Yeah, I think I’ll stay.”

  If I had to name the emotion pouring out of my heart the moment I opened my eyes and saw Danny beside me, it would have been nostalgia. It was immediately followed by soul-sucking, punch-to-the-nose guilt. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I was conscious of the reason why. I wasn’t going there. I refused to think of him.

  But I couldn’t help but question myself. What was wrong with me? I lay beside one man and thought of another as I did. This was becoming somewhat of a habit. When did I become this person? This woman? What was I doing with Danny when I constantly thought of Alex…er…him?

  Danny was unaware of any of this, of course. Despite the amount of talking we’d done the night before out on his deck, I hadn’t told him about Alex. He was my secret. I choked up at the thought. Alex wasn’t mine. And he would never be mine.

  Here, I had Danny. Relaxed, charming, caring, not to mention extremely good-looking. He was perfect in every way. Perfect on paper. Perfect in the flesh. Yet, my heart still cried out for Alex.

  I sat up, cradling my head in my hands and rubbing my eyes. Without even a thought yesterday, I didn’t put make up on. Why? Was I reverting back to the old me? To Hannah? If that was the case, what would happen to Chase?

  Danny moved beside me, curling his arms around my waist. “Why are you up so early—” He peered at me through one opened eye. “—on a Saturday?”

  I pushed his messy hair off his forehead. We’d fallen asleep in our clothes. Well, I was still in his clothes, borrowed while mine dried. Déjà vu was all over this moment. By the time we’d been engaged, half the clothes I’d wear to bed had been Danny’s. Back then, I’d been an early riser, accustomed to my father’s routines, even on weekends.

  “I have to get back home before the parental units start to worry.”

  Danny pulled me back down to the bed and kissed one of my shoulders. “I’ll drive you home. Give me a minute to wake up.”

  That was easy. I thought he would at least try something this morning considering he didn’t try anything last night. Who would believe me if I told them nothing happened? Sadly, I knew a bunch of people who would ask.

  Danny didn’t even try to kiss me, even though there were plenty of perfect times to do so.

  Danny released me and pushed the blanket aside. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,” he said as he sat on the edge of his bed. The mattress sagged under his weight.

  And that was that. The walk to memory lane ended.

  Having left his truck on the other side of the lake the previous day, Danny had the chance to let me ride with him in the Camaro. It was a sexy car, as sexy as the driver. But my God, he was a careful driver. No matter how much I urged him to speed a little, Danny refused. I rolled my eyes when he said he had a reputation to keep up.

  When I reached home, it was difficult to sneak through the kitchen. A few trucks were parked along the road to the house. Caterers, party suppliers, florists and all their staff worked on the Buford grounds. All for a party I didn’t ask for. I nodded a greeting at Paul-squared, and ignored their delighted looks when Danny followed after. The caterers brought their own employees in, taking over one-half of the large kitchen. Chef Paul didn’t seem to mind, which was odd. I’d known other people in his line of work who’d get bent out of shape when others used their space.

  “Hey, guys,” Danny greeted the kitchen staff—ours and the caterer’s. “Can I get a plate, Paul? Bring it over to the sunroom.” He grabbed a cup from a cupboard and proceeded to pour coffee into it.

  This made me raise my eyebrows up to my forehead, thinking, “Make yourself at home, Danny.” Then I checked myself. I was the stranger around here. He might even have hired the two Pauls. Last night, he’d explained in detail what his role was in my father’s business. Basically, without Danny, our business would have sunk years ago. As a gesture of gratitude from my father, he had given Danny
a large piece of the farm, where his cottage now stood. Although with Daddy’s big heart, he’d probably given him more, and I wasn’t talking about land.

  “Hannah? Hannah?”

  I shook my head when Danny snapped his fingers in front of me. Who does that? I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah?”

  “Are you having breakfast with us?” he asked, raising a cup to his lips.

  I shook my head again. No way. “I’m going to shower and change.”

  “Okay. Won’t you at least say good morning to your parents?” he practically ordered. Ordered, not suggested! Chase would have reacted, but Hannah...Hannah always complied.

  “Yeah, I should.”

  I followed him to the sunroom, where my parents sat finishing their meal. My mother had a smile on her face the size of the iceberg that sank the Titanic. Daddy was a little amused and paid more attention to his cup than to us. Mom preened when Danny chose the seat beside her.

  “Oh, Chastity, your dress for tonight’s party is in your boudoir.”

  Boudoir? My dress? “You got me a dress?” I was half-crazed. I imagined finding a pink frilly dress made with yards of tulle and bedazzled with rhinestones. “Mom, I have a dress picked,” I lied. “And speaking of which, thank you very much for telling me about this party.” I let the sarcasm hang in the air.

  Mom didn’t pick up on it, or she chose to ignore it. Her earlier grin reappeared. “You’re welcome, dear,” she said in a sing-song voice.

  My mouth hung open, but before I could throw a retort, I caught my father’s pleading look. My jaw clenched. Danny seemed oblivious to all this. I left the sun-filled room without another word.

  I fumed in the shower, murmuring within the glass and tiled walls. I pushed aside the garment bag when I opened the closet to access my luggage, pulling out a black jersey dress.

  A knock interrupted my hair-drying. I groaned, tempted to shout “go away” to whoever was on the other side.

  “Nugget,” my father called.

  I dropped the towel on the vanity and walked to the door, leaning back against the wood. “What is it, Daddy?”

  “Little chat? I brought coffee and pancakes. Paul said you like them.”

  I twisted the doorknob and grabbed the tray from Daddy.

  We sat on my bed, my legs crossed over the mattress as I rubbed my hands together before digging into my plate. “You talk. I eat.” I pointed a fork at Daddy.

  He poured more maple syrup over my pancakes from a tiny dispenser before he spoke. Sweetening me up before the chat. Not good. “Did you look at your dress?”

  “Choose another topic.” I talked around the pancake in my mouth.

  He sighed heavily, but chuckled. “Your mother has invited all of our friends to this party...”

  “Next,” I interrupted, cutting small pieces of the pancakes for easier consumption.

  I waited three, four seconds for Daddy to talk again, but he didn’t. He just watched me eat. His blue eyes were glazed over. Was it a side effect from his medications? How much pain was he in? Why was I giving him a hard time? I had to remind myself why I came back. Daddy.

  I set the fork and knife aside, ready to surrender, but the words that came out of my mouth surprised me. “Why do you put up with her? With mom? She’s pushy. She nags. She’s really annoying. And she doesn’t seem like she cares about anyone’s feelings other than her own. I didn’t ask for this party. I didn’t ask her to get me a dress. I didn’t ask her for anything. I would never ask her. And she does the same thing with you. So why, Daddy? Why do you let her do it?”

  Daddy lifted the tray and placed it on my bedside table. “Hannah...” he paused, possibly to think things through before he answered me. “When you left, your mother was all I had,” he began. “When your sister disappeared, I had you, and you had me. Who do you think your mother turned to?” He didn’t want an answer, continuing his explanation, “She had herself. And did you ever hear her complain that we kept to ourselves?”

  “No.” It was true. My mother only shed tears behind closed doors, when she’d thought no one was listening on the other side. “But I thought she had the Gee-gees?”

  “Sure, it may seem like it. But you know her, she kept a lot to herself. When you left, I turned to her, and she didn’t complain. She put up with me. Then, Danny returned home and he and I became close. Still, your mother had only herself. Not one complaint, Nugget, not one.” Daddy raised a pointer finger in front of me. “And guess who picked up the pieces when I was diagnosed with cancer?”

  Mom. I didn’t say it out loud, but Daddy nodded.

  “You see, Nugget, without your mother I would have fallen apart in an instant. She may seem difficult to you, but without her, I would be… I don’t even want to think about it.” Daddy squeezed my shoulders, then lifted my chin. “I am not putting up with her. I am grateful for each and every moment she has stayed with me through the good and bad. Anytime I can repay that, even if it means sitting through two hours of opera, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

  Shit. When he put it that way, who could argue?

  “Now, tell me, what’s going on with you and Danny? Because you know your mother. If you don’t clear it up with her, she’ll have you sized up for another wedding dress.”

  That was cringe-worthy. “Danny and I are friends.” I played with the hem of my dress.

  He waited for me to explain further, but I couldn’t, not if I didn’t even know what the real answer was.

  “Well, he did say he’ll be your date at the party.”

  “Oh, shit.” I did agree to that, didn’t I? “It can’t be that bad, can it?”

  With a closed fist, Daddy nudged my chin. “I’m sure you can handle it.” Daddy carefully got up, holding to the bed for support. “Rest up. Your mother hired the armada for tonight. I doubt you’ll be needed for anything.” And with a kiss to my forehead, he left.

  “It’s going to be horrible,” I griped over the phone. “If my entire bedroom’s pink, it could for sure cross my Mom’s mind to choose a pink dress for me too, Nica.” I had called her to get some kind of support. “There was no hiding from the party, but at least I could choose my own dress, right?”

  “Just check it out first, Chase,” she said.

  “I knew you’d say that.” I blew a harsh breath out between my clenched teeth, as I pulled open the closet doors. With the phone held between my ear and shoulder, I zipped open the garment bag. “Here we go. Moment of truth…” Then I released a dramatic gasp as I got a first peek of the dress. “Not pink.” I continued to unzip it and gaped at the royal blue silk chiffon dress. It was simple, with thick straps and a sweetheart neckline. It was a layered sheath, and the fabric was a luscious silk. And there weren’t any adornments on it. Not a single rhinestone. With swept up hair, a pair of diamond earrings, a silver cuff, and a pair of nude shoes, I would look glamorous in it.

  “Chase? Chase, what does it look like?”

  I nearly forgot about Nica. “Not pink.”

  “Black?”

  “Nope. It’s a rich, royal blue. Here I’ll send you a photo.” I held my phone up to take a quick picture and sent it to my best friend.

  “Wow. That’s wow. Try it on!” she screamed into the phone.

  “Hey, no need to yell. Gimme a sec. You want me to call you back or...”

  “Yeah, put it on, pair it with those gorgeous shoes you wore at last year’s Christmas gala at the Benjamin’s...”

  See, this was why we were besties, we had like minds.

  I did just that. My body shape had changed since my mother stopped buying clothes for me, and changed more after I’d been on my own. But the dress fit like a glove, displaying my tatas in an elegant way. I was a bit delighted that even with the lack of regular exercise, my arms stayed toned, and the swim from yesterday had given my skin a sun-kissed hue. I did my own hair, sweeping it up into a messy chignon, and applied my patented smoky eyes and blood-red lips.

  Nica responded to my photo text im
mediately and captioned it with, Rawr! Go get ‘em, tiger!

  I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but I sent a Thanks! just in case she meant it as a compliment.

  I also sent Danny a text, asking what time he’d show up and if we should walk into the party together or separate. His response was instantaneous:

  I’ve been here for half an hour.

  Well, gee, thanks for telling me, date. But I replied with:

  I’ll be down in a minute.

  Danny stood at the bottom of the grand staircase. His smile illuminated the room as he spotted me at the top. He wore a tux, as promised, and James Bond had nothing on him. He gave me a chaste peck on the cheek, whispering, “You look gorgeous.”

  “So do you.” I hooked my arm into the crook of his elbow and walked with him toward the back of the house.

  Danny leaned into me. “I have a few people I’d like you to meet.”

  “Oh, really? I thought this was my party,” I joked, even though I would feel like an alien in it. A stranger, who guests would gawk at and chat about.

  “It is. But these are very important people.”

  As soon as we were out in the yard, the sensation of a hundred eyes on me took effect in an instant. I wasn’t shy by any means, but I often avoided being the center of attention, despite what folks in California had believed, unless it was absolutely necessary. Tonight was going to be the Chase/Hannah show. My own version of the parable, “The Prodigal Daughter”. My own version of a nightmare.

  In my bedroom, I’d convinced myself Danny would help me out and make things easier for me, make this whole night more palatable. But as we walked through the crowd, he shone. He loved the attention. This wasn’t the Danny I’d known. This was someone else. I watched him curiously.

  He introduced me to several politicians and influential members of the community.

  When I reached for my third—only third—glass of champagne from a passing server, Danny muttered in my ear, “Slow down, Hannah.” I gaped at him, and saw the rest of what he thought filling his eyes—Don’t embarrass me.