by Regina Cole
Tears were tracking down Eliza’s cheeks, but she didn’t move to wipe them away. Her heart was pounding as if the danger to Chandler was real, at that moment, instead of years in the past.
“Gregory was tied up in court for a while after that, but eventually the charges against him were dropped. I wondered, for a while, why that bullet didn’t hit me. My parents were dead, and my cousin’s life was being ruined because he’d protected me. It was hard to remember that being alive was a good thing. But eventually, things got better. Somehow they always do.”
Chandler stood, having finished the last bow. His face was blank, and the sight was somehow more upsetting than the hurt Eliza was trying like hell to smother.
“There. I think that looks good, don’t you?”
Eliza didn’t answer, she just put the last remnants of the bolt of tulle on the closest table. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she closed her eyes for a moment.
She’d been so certain that this trip was about her. That she could become the person she wanted to be, shed her past and make a whole new start, just for a few days. But she hadn’t, for even a second, considered she might meet someone who made her care.
Though she hadn’t known Chandler long, she felt for him. She hurt that he’d lost his family, that his cousin had been forced to defend his actions in court when all he’d been doing was saving Chandler’s life. Was it more than she’d have felt for a complete stranger? Yes. Was it something more than simple empathy? No, not yet, but she had a feeling if she wasn’t very, very careful, she’d end up feeling much too much for this man.
The consequences were real, but for now, she’d ignore them.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said, closing the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his warm, hard chest. “I’m sure you’re right. Gregory and Bree will be just fine.”
Chandler’s arms wrapped around her, and his chin rested atop her head. She closed her eyes and breathed him in. He was strong, he smelled so good, and she wanted to reach within him and heal the wounds that still must twinge whenever he thought of the past. She’d never understand, but she wanted to help him heal. Leaning her head back, she looked up into his eyes. He didn’t move to kiss her, but she reached up and wound her arms around his neck to pull him down to her.
She kissed him, her tongue rubbing along his bottom lip, tasting him. He parted his lips and she eagerly delved between them, tasting the edge of his teeth, his tongue, the deep warmth of his mouth. He groaned then, pressing his hips forward to let her feel his growing erection.
Her fevered brain ran through the nearby possibilities. There was a bathroom just inside the event hall there, or maybe a dressing room with a lockable door, and they could—
But Chandler pulled away when she reached down to rub his ass.
“What’s wrong?” The rejection stung, even when she saw the shuttered want in his eyes.
“Nothing. It’s just getting late, and we’ve got to be at the rehearsal in twenty minutes.”
“Oh.” Eliza glanced at her watch. He was right. “Shit.”
Chandler scratched the back of his head, looking toward the floor as he did so. The motion made him look like a wistful kid. “Sorry I made you sit through my life story.”
“No, no, I was glad to listen. I mean, I’m sorry that you had to go through all that.”
“We’d better get over to the rehearsal.”
Eliza bit her lip. Should she be brave? Chandler had been in telling her all that. What the hell, roll the dice. “But if you’re up for it, I’d love a rain check for after the rehearsal dinner.”
He gave her a smile and waved as he walked away.
Hope flared in Eliza’s chest. Another night with Chandler sounded like a dream come true. Especially if he remembered the promises he’d made in the woods. Just the idea sent a delicious shiver between her legs.
This rehearsal was going to last forever.
Chandler really had intended to make good on the promises he’d made on the trail to Eliza, especially since whatever reservations she’d been having had seemed to be taken care of. But somehow his unburdening to Eliza had reminded him of how he’d first met Andrea.
In his freshman year of college he’d spent a lot of time drinking and generally behaving like an idiot. He was mad at the world and didn’t really give a shit about the consequences. But then Andrea had invited him to a party, and her free-spirited lifestyle seemed like the perfect antidote to his apathy. She’d listened to him cry, and had offered him comfort. He mistook that for love, for passion. It wasn’t, and in the end he was alone.
He wanted to make sure he wasn’t repeating the same mistakes with Eliza. So he needed a little bit of time to get his head back on straight.
Hopefully she’d understand.
As the best man, it was Chandler’s responsibility to walk down the aisle next to Stacey. They stood on the beach near sunset, just the time of day that the ceremony would be tomorrow. The red glow of the dying sun made the ocean look like it was burning. Rows of white chairs faced the shore, and a beautiful white stage complete with columns, flowers, and billowing fabric was positioned in the front. It was a sort of fairy-tale setup, actually.
“I heard you were a hero last night,” Chandler whispered to Stacey as Mrs. Hough and Sabrina started to argue about the order of the processional.
Stacey snorted. “Hardly. I barely slowed that jackass down. Whoops.” She blushed as she glanced toward the priest at the altar while Chandler tried to stifle his laughter.
“It’s not a church. You’re allowed to say ‘jackass’ on the beach.”
Stacey cracked a small smile at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I guess you’re right.”
“How’s the head?”
“It’s a lot better. A bit of a headache, but not too bad.” Stacey gingerly patted her hair just behind her right temple. “I fell the wrong way, that’s all.”
“Well, if you need to lean on me, feel free. I’ll catch you if you fall.” Chandler patted her hand in a friendly way.
Stacey gave him a sideways glance. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Besides, I’d hate for you to get a hernia right before the ceremony.” She gave a laugh to prove she was kidding, but Chandler frowned slightly.
He started to say something about her self-deprecating humor when the wedding planner clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Okay, that’s settled now. Everyone has a list of the order, and that’s what we’ll be using. Remember, I’ll be standing at the back of the seating area to let you all know when to process. Gregory and Sabrina want to thank you for coming here to be a part of this important day. And I’ve been told to inform you that after the rehearsal, there’ll be a barbecue and pool party at the honeymoon villa across the resort. So let’s get this done, grab your bikinis, and we’ll party!”
Cheers went up from most of the wedding party, but beside Chandler, Stacey had gone ghost-white. She clutched his arm like she was drowning and he was her only anchor to dry land.
“Are you okay? Feeling sick?”
Stacey shook her head, looking straight down at the white runner beneath their feet. “No, no, it’s not that, it’s just, I didn’t realize that, well, I should have known. Bree’s always planning something. It’s just, swimming, I—”
The wedding planner rushed over to them, a large binder stuffed full in her arms. “Yes, maid of honor, Stacey, is it? Right, good, and here we have Mr. Chandler. Oh yes, nice and tall you are. There, wait for the last bridesmaid to take her place, and then the groomsman. Now, you two go!”
An insistent hand planted between Chandler’s shoulder blades and shoved. They walked slowly up the aisle, and it was hard not to notice how Stacey’s hand shook as they moved.
When they stopped at the front, and Chandler released Stacey’s arm, Eliza caught Chandler’s eye.
“Is Stacey okay?”
She mouthed the words, but h
e caught them instantly. A slight shake of his head gave her all the information she needed, and her frown became more pronounced.
Chandler moved into his position and clasped his hands behind his back. It was obvious why Stacey would be uncomfortable. Gregory had told him what the guy at the club had said last night. Of course she’d be self-conscious. Hopefully Eliza could make her feel better, and then the two of them could enjoy a swim together.
And after that? Well, he needed time to think. But his body wasn’t exactly on the same boat as his mind. Anticipation rumbled through him as he imagined keeping every one of his promises to Eliza.
The rehearsal went smoothly once a tall glass of wine had been handed to Mrs. Hough to make her a bit easier to get along with. The priest went through the motions, cracked a few jokes, then they were dismissed to get ready for the rehearsal dinner.
“Eliza,” Chandler called, trotting to catch up to her and Stacey. Eliza glanced back, but Stacey kept her gaze glued firmly to the ground. “Is Stacey feeling okay? Will I see you guys at the dinner?”
“Her head’s hurting pretty bad.” Eliza’s lie was pretty transparent, but Chandler wasn’t about to tell her so. “I’m going to walk her to her room and keep an eye on her for a while.”
He couldn’t help being disappointed, but he knew it was for the best. He’d hoped he would get the chance to just talk with Eliza at dinner, see if he could organize his thoughts and feelings about her. Stacey had been through an ordeal, and since she’d experienced it while trying to protect Eliza, of course Eliza felt partially responsible. It was admirable, really. Just not the best timing for him.
“Of course. Can I do anything for you guys? I’d be happy to bring you some dinner, or something.”
Eliza bent to Stacey’s ear, but her strawberry-blond head shook vehemently. Eliza looked a little disappointed as she answered Chandler.
“No, sorry. She’s not hungry.”
“You go with him,” Stacey said, her hollow glance landing on Chandler. “Seriously, don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I don’t want to ruin your night.”
“You’re not,” Eliza said as the two of them slowly walked toward the main hotel tower. “I’m not that interested in a barbeque anyway. And swimming? Pfft, no. I’m miserable at it.”
“I doubt that.” Stacey’s voice had a tiny trace of mirth.
“Nope, seriously. I suck. One time when I was a kid . . .”
They were too far away now, and Chandler cursed softly. Damn it. He wanted to hear the rest of that story.
“Hey, man, you need to hurry up. The steaks will be gone by the time you get there.” Gregory clapped Chandler on the back.
“I doubt that. It looks like the party’s missing a few members.” Chandler nodded to Eliza and Stacey as they walked down the sidewalk, far away now.
Gregory put his hands on his hips. “Huh. Wonder what’s going on between them?”
Chandler’s hackles raised, and he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. “What do you mean? Stacey’s feeling terrible because she got concussed last night, and Eliza’s a nice person. She’s helping her get back to her room and making sure she doesn’t sit alone and cry all evening.”
“Whoa, there, ease up. I’m not trying to piss you off, man.” Gregory put his palms out to Chandler in a supplicating gesture.
Chandler raked a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. You just phrased that weirdly. Anyway, I’ve got to go to my room and grab my trunks.”
“Sure, man. No problem.”
As Chandler walked away from his cousin, he wondered what he could do to save this night. Hire someone to sit with Stacey? Maybe have Brent ask Stacey out? No, they were related, that wouldn’t work.
“Get your ass upstairs, change, and eat your goddamn steak.”
It was a plan. Not a good plan, but a plan nonetheless. All he had to do was make it through twenty-four more hours. Then the ceremony would be over, their responsibilities as wedding party members would be done, and they’d have several days of uninterrupted time to get to know one another.
Chandler allowed himself a small smile. He’d get to see Eliza in a swimsuit after all. At least, he would if he was lucky.
All the way back to the hotel he scanned the grassy areas for a four-leaf clover.
14
The next day was a complete blur for Eliza. She got up early, her eyes bleary from lack of sleep. After the rehearsal dinner and pool party, Bree and Rachel had come up to Stacey’s room, and they’d talked late into the night.
Well, everyone but Stacey had talked. Stacey nodded and laughed, and gave one-word answers every time Eliza tried to draw her out of her shell. She wished she knew what to do to help Stacey feel better, but she didn’t. So she just did the best she could to be there and make her laugh. Hopefully that would be enough.
After stumbling through the shower in which she tried really hard not to get her hair wet, Eliza threw on a maxi dress and flip-flops and hurried to Bree’s room.
It was chaos.
Mrs. Hough was there, already arguing about the hairstyle Bree had chosen. Rachel was sitting on the bed, wide-eyed, staring at the ordeal in front of her. Stacey was there, too, trying like hell to keep the Houghs from killing one another.
“Great, everyone’s here!” Bree chirped, clapping her hands and forcing a big smile. “Okay, girls, we’re out of here! Mom, sorry, but we’ve got to go. My makeup appointment is in thirty minutes, and after that we’ve got to get to the hair salon. Four updos are going to take a while.”
Mrs. Hough stood and clutched her designer purse to her chest. “I’ll come with you, dear. After all, it’s only right, I am your mother. I should speak with the stylist and make sure that your appearance is—”
“Mom, seriously. No. Go find Uncle Robert and have a nice breakfast. I promise I’ll see you before the ceremony.”
Mrs. Hough didn’t like this idea, it was obvious, but there wasn’t a lot she could do. This was Bree’s day, and when Bree made up her mind almost nobody could stop her. Not even her crazy mother.
Eliza snapped pictures while Bree got all dolled up. Rachel tickled Stacey and Eliza managed to get a shot of her smiling. She hoped it wouldn’t be the only picture that Bree’s maid of honor looked happy in, but it just might be.
After a few hours of curlers and hair spray and enough bobby pins to make a half-scale model of the Titanic, the four of them left the salon and made their way back to the hotel. There was food at some point and a tense couple of hours when Mrs. Hough arrived to “help” them get ready, but eventually they were all dressed and ready for the ceremony. With a few minutes to spare, too.
“Just breathe, Bree. Come on, everything’s going to be fine.” Eliza was in the bathroom of Bree’s hotel room, rubbing the back of a nearly hysterical Bree.
“I’m going to kill her. She’s ruining this day, and I’m going to literally strangle the woman. What do I do?”
“Just ignore her. Let me and the others run interference, okay? If she comes up to you, grab one of us, and we’ll distract her so you can make your escape.”
“Oh man, why didn’t I hire a hit man when I had the chance?”
Eliza laughed at Bree’s groan, but she wondered exactly how much truth was in those words. She’d had a contentious relationship with her mother for as long as Eliza had known her.
A knock on the bathroom door drew their attention.
“Bree? Are you okay? We need to start heading down to the ceremony. There’s only five minutes to go.”
Panic filled Bree’s eyes, and she gripped Eliza’s shoulders. “Am I doing the right thing? I’m not, am I? I can’t believe this. How could I have let it get this far? I’m the one pushing for this, Greg didn’t even want to get married. But we love each other, it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eliza said, shaking her head. “There is not enough time here to go through all that. What do you mean, Greg didn’t want to get married?”
> “I asked him.” Tears threatened to ruin Bree’s eye makeup, so Eliza grabbed a tissue and started dabbing maniacally. “I proposed to him, and he said no at first, but then he said yes and I was just so happy I didn’t question it. But I know it’s been fast, I just haven’t ever felt like this for someone before, and I—”
“Sssh.” Eliza hugged Bree hard. “He said yes. You’re amazing, and from what I hear about Gregory, he’s a great person, too. Did you know that he saved Chandler’s life?”
Bree sniffed and nodded.
“See? Greg’s a hero. And in about three minutes he’s going to be your hero. But not if we don’t head down to that beach so you can get married, okay?”
A tremulous breath blew between Bree’s lips. “Okay. You’re right. If Gregory didn’t want to do this he’d have told me a month ago when we got engaged.”
Eliza inwardly blanched at the timeline, but she didn’t say a word. Who was she to judge? It seemed that the two of them were truly in love. So what did it matter if they’d been engaged for a month or a year?
“Right. He said yes, and he meant it, so let’s go get you hitched!”
Bree laughed at Eliza’s exaggerated version of Gregory and Chandler’s accents. “You’re cute with a drawl.”
“I try. Now come on.”
Together they left the bathroom. Rachel looked relieved, and Stacey was trying her damndest to pretend she was happy. It wasn’t exactly convincing, though.
“I sent Aunt Beatrice down already,” Stacey said, passing Bree’s bouquet of Asiatic lilies to her. “That way she can be seated and you don’t have to deal with her all the way down there.”
“You’re my favorite,” Bree said, planting a kiss on Stacey’s cheek. “Okay, girls, you look fabulous. Are we ready to do this?”
They put their bouquets in the middle of their group as if they were a soccer team about to do their warm-up cheer. Relief filled Eliza when she saw Bree’s eyes sparkle with their usual vivacity.
