Checkered Past

by Abby Gaines

  “We talked, dammit,” he said. “It might not have been good enough for you, but it was as good as I get.”

  They stared at each other, neither backing down. Chad let out a breath. “Guess that thinking we promised Dad won’t take too long.”

  BRIANNA HAD DISCOVERED there was no going against Brady Matheson once he made his mind up about something like her attendance at Trent and Kelly’s wedding. She called him from her hotel room on Monday to suggest maybe it wasn’t a great idea for her to go, but he refused every argument. “I want you there,” he said.

  Chad had said that since the heart attack his dad was operating at about sixty percent of his usual assertiveness—she couldn’t imagine dealing with Brady in full flow. No wonder Chad was so controlling. He’d inherited the full whack of his dad’s genes and must have had to hone them further so he could stand up to his dad.

  An entirely different tactic from Brianna, who, rather than force her way into her dad’s affections, had retreated.

  Did that make Chad braver than she was or just more stubborn?

  Her cell phone rang five minutes after she hung up from Brady. It was Zack.

  “Calling to offer my services as wedding escort on Saturday,” he said.

  “Uh…” Brianna said intelligently.

  “Your husband didn’t look that excited about the prospect of you attending.”

  See? She wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Chad’s reticence.

  Zack said, “I’d be delighted to accompany you—as your brother-in-law, of course.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’d like that.” She knew she was getting to like the Matheson family too much, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the tie before she had to.

  She’d just plugged in the hair dryer to blow-dry her hair when Chad called.

  “Why the hell does my brother think he’s taking you to Trent’s wedding?” he demanded.

  Brianna set the hair dryer down and perched on the edge of the bathtub, knees weakening in that telltale way. “Because he invited me and I accepted.”

  “You can’t want to go with him,” Chad said, outraged. “He’s even less open than I am. He’ll be terrible company.”

  “I like Zack. And unlike you, he does want me there on Saturday.”

  “I want you there,” he sputtered.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I do, dammit. I just didn’t want to send mixed messages to my family. And they’ll be a lot more mixed if you show up with my brother.”

  “Then I’ll go solo,” she said.

  “You won’t want to go solo,” he said with his usual I-know-everything authority. After a moment he added, “Neither do I.”

  “Your whole life is a commitment to going solo.”

  The noise coming down the phone might have been his teeth grinding. “I am trying to do the sharing, caring thing. Like I was trying to at dinner the other night, though that apparently fell on deaf ears.”

  “Why bother?” she said. “We’re getting divorced, remember?”

  “I don’t know why,” he said flatly. “But I do know you’re going to the wedding with me.”

  “Because you don’t want your brother showing you up?” she suggested.

  “Because you’re my wife.”

  “You won’t be able to use that excuse for your dictatorial behavior much longer,” she said primly. She knew he hated the word dictatorial.

  When he ended the call, Brianna stayed perched on the edge of the tub. She didn’t want to think about Chad trying to be caring and sharing. Because when it came down to it, he couldn’t do it—and she didn’t want to get her hopes up. Because if she started to hope, she might fall in love with him again.

  “Not going to happen,” she warned her reflection in the mirror. She yanked the comb through her hair.

  She wouldn’t let herself fall in love with Chad again, because even if he cared for her in his own Chad-like way, it was a dead-end street.

  “I need to finish this assessment, impress the heck out of Dad, see if he’s ready to admit he loves me,” she said aloud. “Then leave Charlotte and never look back.”

  But first, she had to get through Trent’s wedding.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE WEDDING was held at a historic church in Concord, with the reception planned at the race track afterward.

  The church was packed to the rafters with NASCAR folk, family and friends of the happy couple. Brianna sat up front with Brady and Julie-Anne. Chad and Zack were both in the wedding party, along with Kelly’s younger brother and a good friend of Trent’s. Which, Brianna assumed, meant there would be four bridesmaids.

  The scale couldn’t have been more different from her and Chad’s wedding in Las Vegas, witnessed only by the receptionist at the Two Hearts Chapel. Brianna glanced down at her tea-colored silk dress. It draped softly over her curves, then flared out to end above her knees. She was far better dressed for Trent’s wedding than she’d been for her own. So was Chad—he looked incredible in his tuxedo. Brianna had noticed several women craning their necks to get a better view. He’s mine. Hands off.

  The organ struck up “Here Comes the Bride.” In Las Vegas, Brianna had marched the dozen steps down the wedding-chapel aisle to a CD of “I Will Always Love You”—with no understanding of how ironic the song choice would turn out to be.

  At the minister’s request, the congregation stood to welcome the bride.

  It took a while for the procession to reach the front, with Kelly walking very slowly so she wouldn’t trip over her feet—but it was worth the wait. Kelly looked gorgeous, her cream silk dress fairy-tale romantic. The bridesmaids, dressed in lilac silk, were equally stunning.

  As Brianna watched them line up at the altar, she caught Chad’s eye. She couldn’t read his expression—rueful, maybe?

  The minister began the service, and she was caught up in the timeless romance of those powerful words of love, of promise, of commitment.

  Trent, even more gorgeous than usual, wore a huge grin on his face. Kelly’s smile was loving and pinch-me excited.

  The minister asked the couple to say their vows, which they’d written themselves and been brave enough to memorize.

  “Sugar…” Trent began. Laughter rippled through the congregation at his use of the pet name that had bugged Kelly like heck when they first met. “I love you so much and I always will. I promise that when you need me, I’ll be there. You’ll be number one in my life, ahead of any race, any championship. The race that matters most to me is our marriage.”

  Brianna’s eyes misted, but she delayed blowing her nose so she wouldn’t miss any of Kelly’s words.

  “Trent, I love you and I always will. I promise that wherever you go, I’ll go, too. I will always support you and honor you. We’re a family and we’re a team—nothing will break us apart.”

  CHAD COULDN’T BELIEVE he felt a pricking behind his eyes as Kelly finished her vows. They were corny, for Pete’s sake! But something about the couple’s joy, their obvious love, had plenty of people in the church sniffling.

  He chanced another glance at Brianna. She was wiping her eyes, like most of the other women. She blew her nose into a tissue.

  Would they still be married if their wedding had been like this? No one would have wiped their eyes at their ceremony in Las Vegas.

  He shook off the heavy mantle of regret that threatened to settle. He and Brianna would never have got as far as this kind of wedding, he told himself. Because people didn’t put this much effort into it without being absolutely certain they were doing the right thing. And that took time. With a little more time, he and Brianna would have seen what had been so obvious after the wedding.

  He’d thought he was sure, that day in Las Vegas. But not so sure that he’d called his family to tell them the good news. Not so sure that he’d told Brianna the truth about the family business before the wedding. And not so sure that he’d made the slightest effort to convince her to stay.

&
nbsp; JULIE-ANNE BLINKED away tears as Trent and Kelly spoke their vows. The young couple were besotted with each other, and even though they’d had some major obstacles to overcome to get here today, they hadn’t let those things stop them.

  Unlike Brady who, despite being an unstoppable force at Matheson Performance Industries or on the race team, had allowed a temporary problem with his libido to derail his and Julie-Anne’s future.

  She cast a sidelong glance at him, at his stern profile. As always, her stomach tightened like a schoolgirl’s. He sensed her observation and looked back at her. Unsmiling.

  He’d been worse, rather than better, since he’d done as she suggested and consulted his doctor. Brady had told her the visit had gone “fine.” Julie-Anne had seen that as clearance to go ahead and set a wedding date.

  He’d refused. “When I’m better, that’s when we’ll get married.”

  The stubborn man wouldn’t be shifted. It had finally dawned on Julie-Anne that her insistence that it didn’t matter if they couldn’t make love in the conventional way was hurting rather than helping. So she’d clammed up. Which meant neither of them was saying much.

  Up at the altar, Trent murmured something to Kelly that made her giggle and had the pastor’s lips twitching. Kelly leaned in to Trent, and Julie-Anne fancied she could feel from here the heat of the love blazing in his eyes.

  It used to be that the most important thing in Trent’s life was winning the NASCAR Sprint Cup championship. But after he fell in love with Kelly, he’d been willing to sacrifice that to save her, interrupting his buildup to the final race to defend her in the media. He’d figured out what was truly important.

  Love.

  Not sex.

  Too bad Trent’s father still had his priorities skewed.

  Or maybe it was something else, something more sinister. Because if Brady really wanted to be with Julie-Anne, if he really loved her, wouldn’t he agree that they should get married and work everything else out later?

  EVERYONE WAS READY to celebrate when they arrived at the enormous tent set up at the race track for the reception. Once again, Brianna sat with Brady and Julie-Anne, along with some of Kelly’s family, at a table next to the bridal party. The older couple seemed to be in a quiet mood—maybe the festivities had tired Brady.

  When it came time for speeches, the bride’s father paid tribute to his daughter in terms so glowing they put Kelly’s mascara to the test.

  Then it was Chad’s turn. He made a great speech, witty and warm about both his brother and Kelly. He wound up by saying, “There were times when I thought, no matter how right for each other Trent and Kelly were, there was no way they could get together. Kelly was too smart, Trent too dumb—” that got a big laugh, because the couple had met after Kelly called Trent an airhead on national TV “—and whenever they got close, something happened to tear them apart. But each time, they got back on track. Their love is much, much bigger than anything life can throw at them.” He turned to the couple and raised his glass. “Trent, Kelly, your race is going to run and run.”

  Applause broke out, with some whistling and hollering from the back of the room. Brianna was certain Trent’s eyes glistened as he lifted his glass in thanks to his brother.

  The band struck up the first dance, and Trent led Kelly onto the floor. They looked made for each other, Brianna thought. Then, as tradition dictated, Chad escorted the maid of honor, Kelly’s sister, for a dance.

  As the last words of the song faded, Chad appeared at Brianna’s side.

  “Dance with me?” he said, and it came out half command, half question, as if he was trying to be less determined to have things his way, but wasn’t sure his life would still work.

  Brady beamed at the suggestion, looking happier than he had so far tonight, so Brianna got to her feet. As they stepped onto the dance floor, the next song started. “I Will Always Love You.” Brianna froze.

  Chad swore. “This must be a common song at weddings.”

  She was surprised he’d remembered. “Uh-huh.” She bit her lip.

  “You’re upset.” He took a step toward the stage. “I’ll ask them to play something else.”

  “No!” Brianna grabbed his arm. “Chad, that’ll be way too obvious.”

  “Can you dance to this?” he asked.

  In response, she held out her arms. He tugged her close to his lean length and they began to dance. The haunting song filled Brianna’s senses, obliterating everything else. She closed her eyes, swayed against Chad.

  With no visual distractions, she saw the truth in crystal clarity.

  The problem with this song was not that she was dancing to it under false pretenses.

  The problem was she was afraid it might be true.

  BRADY TOOK Julie-Anne’s hand and led her to the dance floor.

  A few feet away, Trent and Kelly swayed, locked in a tight embrace that, as the minister had said, no man would put asunder.

  I want that. The thought sprang into Brady’s mind. Dammit, he didn’t need to take love lessons from his son. He’d proposed to Julie-Anne before Trent had even thought of marrying Kelly.

  “They look so happy,” Julie-Anne said wistfully.

  Brady grunted. “Our turn will come.”

  Silence as she moved to the music. Then, “When?”

  Brady let out a frustrated breath. “When I’m…better.” When he could give her the wedding night she deserved.

  “What if you don’t get better?” Her question slammed Brady in the gut, all the harder because it was the same question he’d been holding off for weeks. It had all the pent-up force of a race car heading out of pit road.

  His palms turned sweaty, his heart thumped with the irregular whump-whump of a loose tire. Another panic attack. Brady tried to even his breathing.

  “The doctor said…” Dammit, he was talking too loudly, almost croaking. He cleared his throat, lowered his voice. “The doctor said I’ll almost certainly be fine.”

  She didn’t look particularly happy. “But if you’re not fine, will you still marry me?”

  “Of course I will.” But he’d hesitated long enough to betray his uncertainty.

  “Then there’s no reason not to marry me now.”

  Brady pretended an interest in the tune the band was playing, hummed a few bars.

  Julie-Anne pulled out of his arms. “You say this is all about wanting to please me in bed—” Dean and Patsy Grosso, dancing past, stumbled when they overheard “—but that’s not true.”

  Brady glanced around. “It is,” he hissed.

  “You don’t believe we can survive this problem if the doctor’s wrong.”

  He couldn’t say a word to that.

  “My love for you is strong enough to survive anything,” she said, quiet now. “So the problem is your love for me.”

  “It has nothing to do with how much I love you,” he blustered.

  “Before we got engaged, you always said you didn’t want the kind of emotional commitment that I did,” she said. “I thought we’d moved past that.”

  “We did.” The words didn’t ring true.

  “Then commit to sharing your life with me now. The good and the bad and the truly, unmentionably awful.”

  He stared at her, frozen, as the song ended. The band switched into a swing segment and started to play “Ain’t Nobody Here But Us Chickens.”

  Brady began to move again, woodenly.

  “Tell me we can get through anything,” Julie-Anne persisted, automatically adjusting her steps to the new song.

  His legs trembled like jelly; he held her tighter.

  He felt the rise and fall of her bosom in the new red dress that made her look young, vibrant, full of energy. He kissed her hair. Had she noticed that he hadn’t said those words?

  “Brady,” she said, “I can’t marry you.”

  She’d noticed.

  Brady’s stomach dropped; panic clawed through him, taking him over body and soul. “You don’t mean that.” Too
rough.

  Her voice filled with tears. “I love you so much, but I can’t marry a man who’ll shut me out when the going gets tough. Who’s afraid to trust me.”

  “Gypsy—” words came back, only platitudes, but he clutched at them “—this is a temporary—”

  “I can’t trust your love,” she said. “Brady, we’re finished.”

  Every word cut Brady like a knife, left him bleeding a little more. She stood still, waiting, as if giving him the opportunity to put everything right.

  He couldn’t. He couldn’t do a damn thing.

  She turned on her heel, left the dance floor. He saw her pick up her red silk purse from her chair and walk slowly, with dignity, out of the tent.

  Leaving Brady, the biggest chicken of them all, alone.

  Anguish almost doubled him over, hollowed him out with pain. He clutched his middle, fighting to breathe, ignoring the anxious glances of people nearby. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, heading out of the tent, the opposite direction from Julie-Anne.

  As he neared the exit, his pace picked up. Because stronger than the anguish was the relief that he would never have to be less than a man to her.

  CHAD AND BRIANNA saw Brady leave. They found him outside, breathing so hard Brianna wondered if they should call 9-1-1. But when Chad offered to drive his dad home, Brady bit his head off with enough energy to suggest he wasn’t ill. He did at least let Chad call him a taxi. While they waited for the cab, Brady told them he and Julie-Anne had argued and their wedding was off.

  The taxi arrived before they could get more details.

  Brianna let out a slow breath as the cab pulled away. She ached for the older man. “He’s hurting so badly.”

  “I hate seeing him like this,” Chad admitted. He draped his jacket over her shoulders.

  She pulled it close around her. “Haven’t you been hinting heavily to your dad that he shouldn’t marry Julie-Anne?”