I wish you’d listen to me, he wrote. There’s something missing in Noelle.
I already know she had a crush on you. She was just being young and stupid and too forward.
Too forward? Her behavior went far beyond that. You’re saying the Noelle she is now would never cross the lines she crossed back then?
Of course not, Kyle responded. Anyway, I could never undo the damage I’ve done. I can’t go back to Olivia while Noelle has my baby. I might as well have some integrity and stand up and take responsibility for my actions.
Brandon wanted to reiterate that he’d be sorry if he married Noelle. But what good would it do? Kyle had made up his mind and nothing was going to change it. Then you need to let go of Olivia.
Again, Kyle’s answer took a while to arrive. But Brandon waited because he knew it would come.
Won’t be easy.
* * *
Olivia woke up to a splitting headache. It took effort just to open her eyes. Thank God the room was dark. She could see sunlight peeking around the cracks in the blinds, enough that she could make out an overburdened desk, a computer, a ship in a bottle and some tribal masks on the wall—but she didn’t recognize any of it. Where was she?
Then it came to her. She’d gotten drunk last night, and Brandon had brought her home. She could remember him fighting to keep her clothes on. She could also remember trying to kiss him. She’d wanted him so badly....
Surprisingly enough, he was the one who’d resisted. “You’re not interested?” she’d breathed.
“Not like this, sweetheart,” he’d told her and helped her remove only her shorts before tucking her in. She’d gotten the impression he’d been tempted despite those words, was fairly certain he’d almost turned back at the door. But she was embarrassed all the same. Now both of the Arnold girls had thrown themselves at him.
Kyle’s actions had knocked her on her butt and she couldn’t seem to get her legs under her again. She never would’ve behaved like that otherwise.
Brandon interrupted her moment of regret with a brisk knock. “Olivia? You awake?”
She cringed at the fact that she was going to have to face him, and so soon. She’d made a complete fool of herself last night, first by getting drunk, then by trying to get him into bed. She still wasn’t sure what he’d meant by, “Not like this.” Was he saying he didn’t want to take advantage of her while she was under the influence of alcohol? Or that he didn’t want to become a surrogate for Kyle?
She couldn’t imagine he’d refrain because of Kyle. Brandon probably preferred she be in love with someone else. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about her falling in love with him.
“I’m awake, but I’m not very happy about it,” she replied.
He poked his head inside. Freshly showered and wearing a black V-neck T-shirt with a pair of well-worn jeans and flip-flops, he looked better than ever—which was saying a lot. She wasn’t sure what accounted for that, unless just getting to know him made him more and more attractive. Maybe it was that she finally had some respect for him, since he’d rejected her advances.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
She shoved a hand through her messy hair. “Like roadkill.”
He chuckled. “I was afraid of that. Would you like something to eat?”
Could her stomach tolerate food? She didn’t dare take the risk. “No, but a pain pill would be nice.” She knew he had some; he’d provided it yesterday. “What time is it?”
“Nearly nine.”
“Oh, no!” She shot out of bed, then staggered and nearly fell.
Somehow, he managed to get inside the room quickly enough to catch her and guide her back to the bed.
“I’ve missed my first appointment,” she explained, raising her good hand to her pounding head. “I was supposed to meet Abby, the event planner at the Pullman Mansion, at eight. I’ve got to go!”
He frowned at her. “I don’t think you’re up to it.”
She’d been stupid to drink last night. She wasn’t used to that much alcohol. “I don’t have any choice.” Her tongue felt thick and unwieldy. “Have you seen my phone?” She glanced around but couldn’t locate it.
“Your purse is out on the counter.”
When she started to get up, he pressed her back. “I’ll get it.”
He returned with a glass of water, two ibuprofen tablets and her purse, which contained her phone. At least she hadn’t left it at the bar last night. She figured, at this point, she should be grateful for the little things.
“She’s tried to reach me five times,” she said as she checked her call record. “My mother and Noelle have both called twice.” She lifted her eyes to his. “What am I going to tell them?”
“I say you tell them that you’re not feeling well and to get by the best they can without you.”
“I can’t do that! The wedding’s tomorrow night.” She rubbed her temples, hoping to mitigate some of the pain. The hand she’d injured was no longer swollen, but it was still sore, which didn’t help with her hangover.
He urged her to swallow the painkillers and watched as she obeyed. “Fine. Get in the shower. I’ll call and tell them you’re on your way.” He took the glass. “Then I’ll drive you to your car.”
It wouldn’t go over very well to have Brandon act as her secretary when she’d blown such an important appointment. They’d assume she was purposely causing problems, that it was a vindictive attempt to strike back at Noelle. But it would postpone the confrontation until she felt more equipped to handle it. And letting them believe she was having an affair was better than the pathetic truth that she wasn’t handling Kyle and Noelle’s union quite as nonchalantly as she’d planned.
Regardless of anything else, she deserved one small rebellion, didn’t she?
“Thanks.” She handed him her phone. “They’re right there on my list of favorites.”
“Towels are on the rack to the left of the sink,” he said. “You’ll see them.”
Despite the pressure she was feeling to hurry, she could only move gingerly. She made her way to the door before turning back. “Did Kyle come to the bar last night?”
He met her eyes. “He did.”
“I thought maybe I dreamed that part.”
“No.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds. Olivia didn’t understand why, but she couldn’t look away.
“You could steal him back if you want,” he said at length. “You know that, right?”
He was serious. He was telling her that if Kyle was the man she really wanted to be with, she could fight for him and would probably win.
But it wasn’t so simple. There were other people involved. Not to mention the baby.
“I wouldn’t want to hurt the people that would hurt,” she said.
“Despite what Noelle has done to you?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
“Then you must not want him enough.”
“I don’t,” she said. “Not anymore.” That didn’t mean what she was going through didn’t hurt. The disappointment, the disillusionment, the sense of betrayal and the blow to her self-esteem were very real and ever-present, especially when she was in Whiskey Creek. But she couldn’t get back with Kyle knowing he had a child with her sister. How would they interact with that child? How would they interact with her family?
At least, for the first time since falling in love with Kyle, she was feeling desire for another man. The excitement that brought told her life after Kyle was possible; she just had to be careful or she’d land herself in an even worse situation.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said.
Suddenly she became very conscious of the fact that she was wearing nothing but her panties and shirt. She was better covered than if she were wearing a bathing suit
. But what had almost happened last night, what she’d wanted to have happen, made her feel very exposed.
The way his gaze traveled over her body, as intimate as a caress, made her breasts tingle. She struggled to find her voice. “Did I really try to rip off my clothes when you put me to bed?”
He grinned, which was answer enough.
“Thought so.” She’d actually brought it up so she could apologize. “I’m sorry. From what you said on the phone, I assumed that...that you might welcome a bed partner.”
“You think I was rejecting you?”
She felt her eyebrows slide up. “Weren’t you? I slept alone last night.”
“Next time ask me when I have the option of saying yes.”
Chapter 8
OLIVIA HAD LEFT HER LUGGAGE at Brandon’s house. Since she didn’t have a better place to stay, it’d seemed silly to lug it in so she could get ready, then lug it back out. He would have done the carrying for her, of course. He was a gentleman that way. But since her family already knew she was with him, there was no reason to leave his cabin on their account. He’d invited her to use his guest room for as long as she wanted, and she figured she might as well take him up on it.
That meant she’d be going back....
“Olivia, what do you think?”
She blinked before focusing on her mother, who was wearing a flowery dress and had her hair sectioned off in rollers with a scarf tied over the lot, making her look very 1960s housewife. “About what?”
“The bows that go on the chairs!” The impatience in Nancy’s voice suggested she’d already asked once. “Noelle doesn’t think they match the table runners. Are you sure these are the shade we ordered?”
Removing the sunglasses she’d been using to hide her bloodshot eyes, Olivia tried to focus. She’d expected these meetings to be difficult. But she was so preoccupied with Brandon, she was finding them more of a nuisance than a challenge.
“They’re a shade off,” she admitted. “I borrowed these from River City to save money, remember? That’s what you wanted me to do.”
“But will they look bad?” Nancy refastened a roller that was threatening to fall. Olivia had tried to convince her that a round brush and a blow drier would give her the curl she wanted, but she insisted her hair looked best when she “put it up” for a day—and she was going all out for the wedding.
“I think they’ll be fine,” Olivia assured her. “They won’t be right up against each other. See?” She held the two fabrics a few inches apart. “You won’t notice they’re not exact, especially with all the shades of pink and peach in the flower arrangements.”
“I don’t know....” Noelle shot her an accusing glower. “I thought they’d match better than that.”
She said this as if it was Olivia’s fault they didn’t, although it had been Noelle’s choice. She’d wanted to save money on the chair covers so she could get a pair of very expensive heels, which wouldn’t even show beneath her dress.
Noelle wanted this to be the wedding of the century, which was so unrealistic. But it wasn’t only the color of the chair bows that was bothering her. She’d been hostile all morning. Olivia could feel the animosity; she just wasn’t sure of the cause. Was it the difficulty of pulling off an event like this? Or was it that Noelle knew Kyle had called her last night? That he’d come to the bar to get her?
Maybe she’d been the cause of a fight....
Or was Noelle upset that she was hanging out with Brandon?
The suspicion that her sister was once again jealous of the man in her life—even though she and Brandon weren’t as romantically involved as Noelle thought—made Olivia nervous. After everything Noelle had done to get Kyle, including, possibly, a purposeful pregnancy, she had no business even noticing Brandon.
“Regardless, it’s too late to change now,” Olivia said. Normally she would’ve gone to greater pains to reassure the bride, but she meant that statement in more ways than one. Noelle had made her decision. And in the process, she’d hurt and embarrassed Olivia, cost their parents a great deal of money by demanding such an expensive wedding, made a public fool of Kyle and humiliated herself.
Now she was carrying Kyle’s baby.
It was time for her to quit being so selfish.
“We could do without the bows,” her mother suggested, obviously trying to placate Noelle.
“Is that what you want?” Olivia turned to her sister, making it clear by her tone that she didn’t care either way.
Noelle pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Ugh! This is turning into a nightmare! Some wedding planner you are. I thought having a wedding was supposed to be fun.”
“I think it helps to be in love,” Olivia murmured. Fortunately Nancy didn’t hear. Abby was showing her where they’d set up the table for all the candy.
“I am in love!” Noelle insisted.
“With Kyle or Brandon?” Olivia asked.
Noelle’s lips thinned and her eyes grew so cold they gave Olivia chills. “You’re trying to ruin my wedding!”
Seriously? Was that all she was concerned about? There was so much more at stake!
“I’m afraid you’re going to ruin Kyle’s life,” she responded, realizing, for the first time, that what she’d suffered might turn out to be paltry by comparison.
* * *
“How’d it go today?” Brandon asked as he let her in.
Olivia was so tired she could scarcely move. This week had been emotionally draining. Add to that her late night at the bar, and a day spent in her sister’s company, and she was ready to crawl into bed. She hadn’t even taken the time to have lunch. She’d been running too late, so she’d gone all day without a meal. But they had to be at the rehearsal dinner in an hour. She’d eat then.
“It was weird,” she told him.
He went into the kitchen as she dropped onto his couch.
“It’s always weird when your sister is marrying the man you love,” he said.
Love? Or loved? She couldn’t decide anymore.
She thought back on the past seven hours. Her sister had grown more and more hateful throughout the day. Olivia felt sorry for their mother, who’d worked extra hard to stay positive and enthusiastic in the face of their long, sullen silences. “It got even weirder than that,” she said.
“In what way?” He brought her a sliced orange, which she accepted gratefully.
“I’m beginning to feel sorry for Kyle, if that makes any sense.”
“Makes all the sense in the world to me. I feel sorry for him, too.”
She offered him a tired grin. “That’s harsh. Just because she stalked you for a few months?”
A chuckle let her know he understood she was teasing. “It was the creepiest thing I’ve ever been through, seeing her face staring in at me through the window.”
“I suspect she still has a thing for you.”
He tried to shrug it off. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true. Our...relationship is driving her crazy. I’d tell her we haven’t slept together, but I don’t think she’d believe me.”
“She’s getting married. It shouldn’t matter to her either way.”
She savored the sweetness of the orange he’d given her. “Unless she’s only in it for the shoes.”
“The shoes?”
“The trappings, the party, the celebration, the attention. This wedding shines a bright light on her and announces to everyone in Whiskey Creek that Kyle, a guy highly admired, prefers her to every other woman, including me.”
“The sad truth is...he doesn’t.”
“I don’t even care anymore.” Pushing her plate away, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “All I want is for this wedding to be over.”
“You’re exhausted.”
She didn�
��t answer. She told herself she could rest for fifteen minutes. Then she had to get ready. She had to get through the rehearsal dinner. But Brandon nudged her before she could drift off. “Come on. Nap on the bed. It’ll be more comfortable.”
“I can’t move,” she objected, but that didn’t deter him. He simply scooped her up and carried her down the hall.
When he took her to his room instead of hers, she didn’t have the energy to protest. At the moment, she was worthless as a sex partner. She just hoped he’d curl up beside her, lend her his strength and his warmth. But the next thing she knew, she was facedown on his pillow, breathing in the scent that lingered there—the same scent that clung to his body—as his fingers massaged the tight muscles in her neck and shoulders.
She groaned. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
He laughed softly. “Don’t trust it. Considering what you do to me, I have only evil intentions.”
“Would it make you any less of a villain to lie down with me?”
“I suppose that wouldn’t hurt my reputation too much,” he said wryly and scooted in beside her.
With his shoulder as her pillow and his fingers moving gently through her hair, she felt oddly content as she drifted off.
* * *
A screech woke Brandon from a dead sleep. One look at Olivia, blinking awake next to him, told him she hadn’t made that sound. She was as startled as he was. So what—
Then the sound came again—“O-li-via!”—and he realized what was going on. “Shit! The rehearsal dinner!”
Olivia was already scrambling off the bed, but she didn’t have a chance to speak before Noelle started screaming again.
“I know you’re in there, damn you!” She banged on the door. “How could you? How could you do this to me?”
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