To Catch A Husband (U.S. Marshals, Born And Bred Book 4)

by Laura Marie Altom

  “About what?” Charity asked.

  “Oh, remember a couple months back when a certain someone moped around, worrying that just because she was one of the guys, she might never land one?”

  “I never said that,” Charity complained, trying to hide her easy grin. “I’m a hardened marshal. I don’t even have time for boys.”

  “Uh-huh.” Steph winked. “Lie all you want. I just want it said I was right.”

  “What were you right about?” their mom asked.

  Steph relayed the story.

  “Yes,” their mother said. “In this case, I have to agree with Stephanie. In the past, Charity, you have been known to borrow worries when you couldn’t find enough of your own.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Charity asked.

  “Nothing,” her mother said, fussing even more over the veil Steph had already adjusted at least ten times. “Just that in all the years you’ve feared never having a family of your own, your sister, dad and I have loved you enough to know someday, some very wise man would snap you up.”

  “Aw…” Charity blinked back tears.

  “Don’t you cry!” Gillian bustled over. “You’ll muss your makeup.”

  “I’m fine,” Charity said. “Sort of.” Fanning her face, she smiled through happy tears. The only way this day could be brighter was if her twin brother had lived to share it with her. It was her fervent hope that while Craig couldn’t be here in person, he was at least here in spirit. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m a wreck. But a happy one. And speaking of wrecks, has anyone seen my future hubby?”

  “I saw Uncle Adam,” Meggie said, looking beyond adorable in the white co-flower girl dress that was a pint-size miniature of Charity’s. Barney wandered up behind her, a ring pillow strapped to his collar.

  He sat on his hind legs, trying to have a good scratch at it with his right front paw, but Meggie took her duties very seriously and pushed his paw away.

  Chrissy, also a flower girl, wearing an even smaller version of Charity’s dress, said, “Bad dog, Barney.”

  “What was he doing?” Charity asked the next-to-the-youngest of her bridal party.

  “Barney was trying to knock over his pillow, but I stopped him.” Meggie proudly beamed at her ingenuity.

  All assembled laughed.

  “I know what Barney was doing, sweetie,” Charity said. “I was talking about your uncle Adam. What was he doing?”

  “Oh,” Meggie said with a wide smile. “He was playing video games. He was beating Daddy really bad, but Daddy said that was just because he’d had so much time to practice.”

  “Meggie…” Gillian switched to fussing with Meggie’s hair bow. “How about peeking out the dressing room door to see if Aunt Charity’s daddy is ready.”

  “But, Mommy,” Meggie said, “I was talking about Uncle Adam. Ever since he doesn’t work anymore, he’s like the best ever at video games. He’s always beating Daddy really bad, and it’s funny when Daddy pretends to cry.”

  Charity knelt beside the little girl. “What did you mean,” she asked, “about Uncle Adam not working?”

  “You know,” the little girl said, tugging a flyaway curl, ultimately putting it in her mouth. “About how Uncle Adam’s been hiding at his apartment. Me and Daddy went to see him lots of times, and boy,” she said, eyes wide, “was it ever messy. If Mommy had been there, she’d give him a time-out.”

  “Meggie,” Gillian said, “that’s enough.”

  “Did she just say what I thought she did?” Charity quietly asked, a part of her not wanting to know.

  “No,” Allie said, hustling over to further fiddle with the bride’s veil.

  Charity brushed her away. “Would everyone please leave my veil alone and tell me the truth? I knew all along something was funky about what Adam’s been doing, but—”

  A knock sounded on the door, then the wedding planner poked her head through. “Places, everyone. We’re ready to begin.”

  “Wait,” Charity said. “I have to—”

  “What you have to do—” the brassy woman Charity had never particularly liked, gave her a gentle shove toward the door “—is get down that aisle. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

  As if on autopilot, though her head was reeling and a strange hum had started in her ears, Charity allowed herself to be shuffled along, absorbed into the big event’s carefully choreographed flow. But even as the seconds ticked by, carrying her ever closer to the man she truly felt was her soul mate, doubts crept in.

  What if what Meggie had said was true? That Adam really hadn’t been working? Then what had he been doing? Why would he lie to her? What possible motivation could he have had? Other than hiding something he’d done that he’d known she wouldn’t be pleased about.

  “Gillian!” Charity said in a stage whisper, yanking her out of the bridesmaid’s line-up. Meggie and Chrissy were already grinning their way down the aisle. Barney had even stopped trying to scratch his ring pillow.

  Friends and family twisted in their seats. Everyone she knew and loved was here, straining for a glimpse at her and the dress that must’ve cost Gillian more than a small country’s yearly budget. All of these people she loved had come to see a wedding. After their vows, Charity could drill Adam for the next fifty years. Now, the smart choice—the only choice—was to walk down that aisle…right?

  “Charity,” Gillian said. “Get the stricken look off your face. Let it rest. Whatever Adam did or didn’t do doesn’t matter now. It’s your wedding day. Smile.”

  “It matters if he lied to me,” Charity said, her voice oddly disconnected from the rest of her body. Hot and dizzy, part of her felt as if she were floating. As if some other poor bride had heard this devastating news. “Tell me the truth. Has Adam been on a case all these weeks, or was he suspended from work?”

  “All right,” Gillian said, glancing down the aisle at her panicked-looking brother. “Here it is. That day you got shot? Adam walked out of the courthouse in order to see you.”

  “But he had Caleb’s permission.”

  “No, honey,” Gillian said, hand on her satin, lace and-pearl-covered arm. “He walked out against explicit orders to continue manning his security post. For all that team knew, the shooter could’ve come after the judge at any moment, but Adam chose to leave the judge and go to you.”

  Charity wasn’t sure how to process this news. In front of her, beyond all those smiling faces of friends and family, at the faraway end of the long, orchid-and-fern-lined aisle, stood Adam, so tall and handsome and…

  Queasy-looking?

  He flashed her a cheesy grin. The one he used when trying to get himself out of the doghouse.

  Right at this very second, Adam knew what Gillian was telling her. He knew, and he was afraid. After going off on her that night in the motel about not telling him the whole truth about Cookie’s rock incident, he’d flat-out lied about something as serious as his having been suspended from the marshal’s service.

  Though Allie and Gracie had already made it to the business end of the long aisle, Gillian and Steph still remained.

  “Ladies,” the wedding planner hissed, wildly gesturing to the last bridesmaid and maid of honor. “Poste haste, if you please.”

  “Charity?” Gillian asked. “You okay? If Adam didn’t love you so much, he never would’ve—”

  With her pulse pounding in her ears, Charity looked to her sister, father, to all the guests gazing at her with concern. She’d been blessed to have not been cursed with much morning sickness, but now, sour bile rose in her throat. Placing her five pounds worth of white orchids and roses with the crystal ladybug poking out the top on a nearby side table, she took a deep breath. Stilled her hands by resting them on her churning stomach.

  If Adam would flat-out lie about something as big as this, what else would he lie about? Had he already lied about? Was he just as much in love with Angela as ever, only now that Charity carried his child, family pressure was making him go through with this wed
ding?

  Suddenly her glamorous dress was weighing her down, reminding her who she was. A homely female marshal whose idea of a good time was sitting around cataloging bugs while dressed in ratty old sweats.

  She’d tried elevating herself to a new standard. To a place where, if she was lucky, a man like Adam would love her. Funny, though, how now that he supposedly loved her, she had serious doubts. All those times he’d said he wasn’t good enough for her? She should’ve listened. She should’ve run as fast as her legs would carry her.

  She should’ve done all that months earlier, but instead, with one last heartbreaking look down the aisle at the man she thought she’d be spending the rest of her life with, Charity made up for past mistakes with a few brave current moves.

  She told her father, Steph and Gillian sorry and that she loved them.

  Hiked up her miles of satin train.

  Then ran for the door and one of the many limos she prayed would still be outside.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Bug, wait!” Adam cried, knowing the instant he’d seen the cloud descend over his Bug’s beautiful face that his sister had told her the truth. After charging down the aisle, not giving a damn what people thought, he asked his sister, “What’s the matter with you? Why’d you have to tell her? You’ve ruined everything.”

  “I’ve ruined everything?” Her laugh was brittle. “Trust me, Adam, you botched this one all on your on. I was backpedaling for you as fast as I could, but tell me, how was I supposed to smooth over the fact that for all these weeks leading up to your wedding, you’ve been lying like a dirty rug?”

  The crowd of more than two hundred began to chatter, their condemning tones hitting Adam like a killer wave, roaring in his ears.

  The sweet scent of too many flowers crushed him. Closed in on him, making him nauseous as hell.

  Worst part of all of this was that Gillian was right. Every ounce of pain he was feeling was his own damned fault. He was a fool for trying to keep the truth from Charity.

  He was an even bigger fool for believing screw-ups like him got second chances at a happy ending.

  “Well?” Gillian asked. “Aren’t you going to go after her?”

  “Won’t do much good.” With his hands stuffed into his tux pockets, Adam slowly exhaled. “She hates me. What could I ever say to make her give me another chance? She’s already given me about two dozen.”

  “And so just like that,” Joe said, stepping behind his wife, slipping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder, “you’re going to give up?”

  “Couldn’t have asked that better myself,” Dr. Margaret said, parking herself beside Gillian and Joe.

  Thank God, Charity’s dad and sister were off talking to her mom. Adam’s immediate surroundings were crowded enough without throwing beady-eyed in-laws into the mix.

  “Look,” Adam said. “I screwed up. Again. I don’t even want her to take me back. Lord knows I don’t deserve her.”

  “No,” Dr. Margaret said. “You don’t deserve her, but you need her. And though I haven’t yet had the privilege of meeting your Bug, I have a sneaking suspicion she also needs you.”

  “All that’s well and good,” Adam said, “but how am I supposed to convince her of this supposed need? All she really wanted was a baby. Now that she’s got that, what does she need me for? The woman ran out on our wedding. I’m taking that as a pretty clear sign she despises me.”

  “She might think she does at the moment, but how about giving her a heartfelt apology and one of those cute grins of yours?”

  “I have a cute grin?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

  “If you didn’t,” Dr. Margaret said, pulling him into a hug, “then why would I have put up with you all this time?”

  “Excellent point,” Gillian said. “Now, Adam, go after her already. I’ve got more than two hundred guests to keep entertained until you bring back the bride, and believe me, after one or two minutes of Joe’s singing, they’re not going to be happy.”

  “Hey,” Joe complained. “I’m a fantastic singer.”

  Gillian snorted. “When you’re in the shower, but—”

  “While you two hash all this out,” Adam said, “I’m going to go find my future wife.”

  Adam was just about to the mansion’s front door when Sam came running up behind him. “Hey, Logue! Wait up!”

  “This isn’t the best time,” Adam said with a sigh.

  “It’s the only time,” Sam said, raising his chin. “I just have to say for the record that if Charity doesn’t forgive you, I get dibs.”

  “Dibs?” With clenched fists, Adam said, “She’s carrying my child.”

  “I don’t mind. I’ll love him or her all the same.”

  Bam.

  Adam landed his best right to the jerk-off’s cocky, self-assured face.

  Then, while Sam stood there rubbing his already reddening jaw, Adam said, “Charity’s mine. Her baby’s mine. I love her. And if it takes me every day for the rest of my life to get her back, then I guess I’d best get started.”

  Grinning as Adam stormed out the door, Sam said, “Thanks. That’s all I needed to know.”

  AFTER AN HOUR limo ride back to her condo, then thirty more minutes tracking down the building super because she’d left her key and purse at Gillian and Joe’s, Charity was finally right where she wanted to be. Wearing her rattiest sweats and T-shirt, sitting cross-legged on the sofa with football on TV and a gorgeous, Central African Dicronorrhina derbyana in front of her that she’d received by mail nearly four weeks earlier, but because of all the planning she’d been doing for her stupid wedding to that stupid man she now never wanted to see again, she hadn’t yet had time to mount.

  Fortunately, now that Adam was out of her life, she’d have all the time in the world for bug collecting and watching sports and…

  Who was she trying to kid?

  Hot, racking tears started with no signs of letting up. And then she got sick. And then she remembered she was carrying Adam’s baby, and that no matter how hard she wished him out of her life, she knew darned well she’d always love the guy. She just couldn’t ever trust him enough to marry him. Which—

  Her thoughts were interrupted by banging on her condo’s door.

  “Charity!” Adam hollered loud enough to rouse crotchety old Mrs. Kleypus down the hall. Sure enough, Gringo had already started his shrill barking. “I know you’re in there. The limo dispatch record shows this is where the driver dropped you off. Open up!”

  Great. Just fan-freakin’-tastic. Why had she fallen in love with a guy who found missing people for a living?

  “Sweetheart,” he said, sounding suspiciously short, as if he’d knelt in front of the door and was talking through the eighth-inch slat between the carpet and bottom of the door. “I know I messed up. Big-time. I’m a liar and creep and scum and lower than any life form presently on the planet.”

  True.

  Nibbling her lower lip, trying not to burst into tears again more because she didn’t want to make herself sick than because of lingering feelings she might have for—

  “Angel, I love you. If it makes a difference, I’ve spent these last weeks trying to make myself better—for you. When I got suspended, I was ashamed. Not because I left my post to go to you—I’d do that again in a heartbeat. But because I love you so much, I want to be everything for you. A great marshal. Someone you can be proud of. I want to be a great husband and dad and friend and—”

  “Would you shut up down there!” Mrs. Kleypus shouted from two doors down the hall. “You sound like a bleating cat! She’s obviously not in there! Even if she were, I’d tell her to—”

  Charity unlocked the door. “Mind your own business!” she shouted down the hall. “My fiancé was right in the middle of a good speech.”

  The old woman harrumphed before slamming her door.

  Gringo kept right on barking.

  “Get in here,” Charity said to Adam, dragging him inside. Firs
t she kissed him hard on the lips, then slugged him equally as hard in his gut.

  “Ouch,” he complained, rubbing his abs. “What was that for?”

  “You even have to ask?”

  Grimacing, he said, “Guess I had it coming.”

  “And then some. Dammit, Logue, I trusted you. Do you have any idea how many nights I sat here worrying because I thought you might be off, getting yourself shot?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry’s not good enough!” she roared in frustration. “I don’t even know what I want from you. I can’t imagine what you could do to make up for this big a lie. We’re supposed to be a team. Best friends. Partners. What? Am I not worthy of the truth? Am I—”

  “You’re perfection,” he said. “That’s why I lied. Because I was scared of losing you—not to a bullet, but due to my own stupidity. I was afraid that if I’d told you I’d been suspended, you’d see it as the last straw and want nothing more to do with me.”

  “And so that’s why Caleb’s been so cagey? Not because he’s been jealous, but resenting his role in helping you keep this from me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why did he? Hell, for that matter, why’d the whole office keep this from me?”

  “Because like me, they all love you. And who wouldn’t? You’re sweet and funny and sexy and smart and a good shot, and if you agree to forgive me, I’ll even promise to change every poopy diaper for every kid we’re ever blessed to have.”

  “Quit trying to butter me up,” Charity said, wiping still more tears. “Although if I decide to take you back, I’ll hold you to that poopy diaper promise.”

  “Sure. Whatever.”

  “And even though a promise like that’ll go a long way toward redeeming your many sins, I’m still mad at you.”

  “Can’t say as I blame you.” He pulled her into his arms. “But how long are you going to stay mad? Because back at Gillian and Joe’s we’ve got an awful lot of folks sitting around, waiting to see us get married.”

  “There’s a problem with that,” she said.