Forgotten Honeymoon (Best Friends Wedding Series)

by Beverly Farr

  Kelly bristled at his tone. As far as she knew, they didn’t have other plans. “I beg your pardon?”

  “If you want to acknowledge her birthday, send her a card.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, standing at attention and giving him a mock salute.

  He frowned.

  She explained, “I’m not Claire or one of your corporate minions.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “No, but you’re acting like I’m supposed to jump to your command.”

  “You need to take care of yourself. Dr. Armanzo said --”

  “-- to take it easy, not to stop life completely.”

  He reached out and touched her cheek in a gentle caress. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Of course you can go, if you feel up to it.”

  “I don’t need your permission.”

  He let his breath out slowly. “I didn’t mean it that way. I was frightened when you fainted, I ... I’m afraid I’m overprotective. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  Or to the baby?

  Kelly searched his clear blue eyes. She’d chafed under her father’s loving concern for years; she didn’t like to see the same tendency in Lars. But it was understandable because they spent so much time together. They used some of the same phrases and sometimes sounded alike.

  But she did not want to argue with Lars. He did care for her. It might not be love, but in time, it could grow. She stepped closer, lifting her face upwards for a kiss. “Lars?”

  He pulled back as if embarrassed by his show of emotion. “I need to get back to work,” he repeated stiffly. “I’ll call around to find a cook, and I’ll probably be home late. Good bye, Kelly.”

  She curled her fingers into her palms to keep from reaching out to him as he left.

  Damn. She’d practically begged him to kiss her, and he refused. This was the result of kicking him out on their honeymoon. If she wanted to get his attention, she was going to have to do something outrageous. But what? She paced across the kitchen, deep in thought.

  Maybe she should slip into his bed one of these nights and surprise him.

  She’d considered doing that before, but had chickened out at the last minute. If she was going to seduce her husband, she should do it soon, before she grew out of her sexy lingerie. She glanced at her reflection in the microwave door and smoothed the fabric of her dress over her slightly rounded stomach. Maybe she was already too big. A lot of men didn’t find pregnant women attractive. Did Lars? Did he think she was fat?

  What would she do if he turned her down again?

  Or worse, what if he went through the motions out of politeness?

  She sighed. Oh Lars. It was so much easier when we were just friends.

  #

  Saturday night, Lars called to say that he would be working late again. Kelly didn’t believe him. Her father had never put in such long hours. Lars was obviously trying to avoid her.

  She picked at the veal parmesan that the new cook Mrs. Levine had prepared, and obediently swallowed several bites. Dr. Armanzo had given her a food chart to fill out every day, listing fruits, vegetables, grains and meats. Lars didn’t say anything, but she’d seen him checking the chart magnetized to the front of the refrigerator to see how well she was doing.

  Kelly ate half a cup of green beans and wrote it down on her chart. She didn’t like the regimentation, but she was willing to do it to have a healthy baby.

  After dinner, she flipped through cable channels on the large flat screen television in the den. Nothing looked good.

  She wished she could call Brenda, but she was on her honeymoon.

  Kelly frowned. She and Lars had gone to Brenda’s wedding the week before. She felt Brenda was making a big mistake, but short of drugging the lemonade and kidnapping her, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She sighed. Lars thought she was over-reacting. He liked Marius and said he seemed “level-headed.”

  Kelly wished them both well, even though she feared the union wouldn’t last a year.

  The grandfather clock in the hallway struck seven times, and she remembered Julie’s birthday party. It seemed like a million years since she’d gone dancing at a club.

  She’d spent the past day and a half resting, reading, and eating healthy food. She deserved some time off for good behavior. “How’d you like to go dancing, baby?” she asked her stomach.

  No answer, but then she hadn’t expected one.

  “Okay, then let’s go,” she said. “We’ll wish Julie a happy birthday, dance one song, and come home. Your Daddy need never know.”

  When she entered the club, Kelly was surprised by how loud the music was. She’d been reading her prenatal books and knew babies could hear things in the womb. When they were born, they could recognize their mothers’ and often their fathers’ voices. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long,” she said under her breath. She’d just say hi to Julie and go home.

  She found her friends near the back at a big table. They were an eclectic bunch who liked to talk over ideas and dance. “Kelly!” several cried, and hugged her. Kelly squinted around the table. “Where’s Julie?”

  “She’s not here, yet.”

  Kelly had forgotten that sevenish often meant eighty-thirty with her friends. She’d been spoiled lately by Lars’ strict punctuality. She checked her watch. She’d stay ten minutes, max, and if Julie didn’t show, she’d leave. The music really was too loud. It was enough to give anyone a headache. She sat down at the table and ordered an orange juice.

  Kelly looked around the club, at the people dancing, the people drinking. Some were laughing, but it was impossible to carry on a real conversation above the noise. Kelly had never been much of a party girl, but after a long silent day at her studio, she liked to go dancing, to connect with friends.

  I’d rather be home, she thought with surprise. Home in my quiet, peaceful home, with Lars. And if he were willing, they could put some CDs in the stereo and dance barefoot in the living room.

  She’d like to dance with Lars again. Dancing with him had been the best part of her wedding day. For a few minutes, she’d felt close to him, as if they really were man and wife. Then she’d let her pride and suspicions ruin the rest of the day.

  “Where’s Lars?” her friend Gina shouted. Gina was wearing all black leather tonight and bright red lipstick.

  Kelly shook her head. “He’s not the club type.”

  Gina laughed. “You could have fooled me. I remember the last time you were here and he showed up. When was it -- February?”

  “March,” Kelly corrected. It had to have been that Friday night she couldn’t remember.

  “That’s right. I remember being surprised later when I saw you back with Nigel.”

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Oh, Nigel’s all right, I guess, but all he ever talked about was your Dad’s money.”

  Was that why he’d asked her to marry him? But she was more interested in Lars’ motives than Nigel’s. “No,” she said. “Why did you think I’d stay with Lars?”

  “Well, it was obvious you and Lars were having a great time. I mean, you were all over him.”

  This was part of the story Lars hadn’t bothered to tell her. “And what was he doing?”

  Gina was startled. “Don’t you remember?”

  Kelly shook her head. “No, I don’t.” Gina wasn’t one of her closer friends. She hadn’t told everyone about her memory loss.

  “Well, let’s put it this way -- Lars wasn’t complaining,” her friend said dryly. She turned her head. “Oh look, here comes Julie.”

  Andrea led Julie through the crowd to the back table. “Surprise!” everyone cried. “Happy Birthday.”

  Kelly waited for a few minutes while Julie exclaimed, and then started opening her presents. Kelly swallowed her orange juice in one long gulp. She handed Julie a card, and gave her a quick hug. “Sorry to drink and run,” she said, “But I’ve got to get home.”

  “How domestic,” Kev
in, sitting next to her said.

  When she stood up, she bumped into Vic, who spilled his beer on her. “Sorry, Kelly.”

  “That’s okay,” Kelly said graciously. What did she care about a spilled drink? It was time to go home to Lars.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kelly wasn’t there when he came home. Lars walked through the empty kitchen. He checked his texts. Nothing. No note on the refrigerator. He dialed her cell phone, then heard it ringing in the half-bathroom off from the kitchen. He picked it up. Kelly had a problem with keys and cell phones. She often forgot where she’d put them. Apparently on the day they eloped, she had earlier left her cell phone on the top of her car before driving off.

  He telephoned her studio, thinking that she might have gone there, but there was no answer.

  She wouldn’t be visiting her parents, they were still on their cruise.

  So where was she?

  It was nine-o’clock. She might have run out to the grocery store or a fast food place to get a bite to eat, but there were dinner dishes in the sink, which meant she’d already eaten.

  Lars drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. He turned on the television, then turned it off again.

  He walked back to the kitchen to see if she’d left a note on the counter or the back door. She hadn’t. With Kelly, there was no telling where she might be, or when she might come home.

  If she came home.

  After half an hour, he looked up Nigel’s number on Kelly’s phone and pressed the call button.

  He remembered what she’d said four months ago

  At least Nigel loves me.

  After four rings, Nigel answered the phone. “Talk fast, babe, I’m heading out the door,” he said impatiently.

  Lars had never known what Kelly saw in him, but that was his jealousy talking. “This is Lars,” he said simply. “Is Kelly with you?”

  Nigel laughed rudely. “That’s rich. What’s the matter, have you lost your wife?”

  Nigel covered the receiver, but Lars could still hear a feminine voice in the background. Was that Kelly?

  “Shh,” Nigel hissed, apparently covering the receiver with his hand. “Let me talk on the phone, will you?”

  Lars waited until Nigel returned to the phone and said, “May I speak to her, please?”

  “Sorry, she’s not here. But if I see her, I’ll tell her you’re looking for her.” He laughed again.

  Lars touched the screen, ending the call.

  That had been an exercise in futility. He still didn’t know whether or not Kelly was with Nigel. He ran his hands through his hair.

  He’d hoped that he and Kelly were building a relationship, but all they’d been doing was playing house, waiting until the baby was born.

  If only he knew what Kelly wanted. Did she want them to have a real marriage or was she just making the best of a bad situation? With her mercurial temperament, it was impossible to tell.

  But he’d be damned before he’d let Nigel win by default.

  He’d fight for Kelly every way he knew. He didn’t know whether it would work, but he wasn’t going to give her up without a struggle.

  He tried to think of something concrete he could do to change the rules, to make their marriage more stable. Kelly was right, they needed to spend more time together, to talk, to plan for the future, but with the demands of work, he hadn’t made the time.

  At 11:30 p.m., he heard a car drive up to the front of the house. He hurried through the front door and saw Kelly pay a cab driver. A cab? What had happened to her car?

  “Hi,” she said, giving him a tired smile. “I’m glad to see you.”

  He ran up to her to give her a hug, grateful that she was alive and safe, but as he drew near, he could smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on her clothes and in her hair. “Where have you been?” he demanded.

  She held up both her hands and shook her head. “Don’t yell. It’s a long story. It’s been a long night. All I want to do is come inside and crash.”

  He looked at her clothes, snug fitting black pants and a baggy beaded shirt. “You’ve been dancing,” he accused. “You went to Julie’s party.”

  Kelly sighed. “Can we talk about this inside, please? I don’t want to put on a show for the neighbors.”

  He followed her inside. She sank down on the living room couch. She slid her feet out of her shoes and leaned back, closing her eyes. “What a night.”

  Lars paced across the hardwood floor. “I can’t believe you were so irresponsible. Dancing and drinking, after what Dr. Armanzo said. It bad enough to put yourself at risk, but the baby deserves --”

  Her green eyes flashed angrily. “I didn’t drink anything! As for staying out late, it won’t happen again.”

  “How do I know that? You’re so impulsive, you might do anything!”

  “What -- like run off to Reno and marry you?”

  She had him there. They’d both been impulsive, and now they were paying the price. For a moment he stood there, watching her.

  He didn’t want to be angry with her. Anger wouldn’t solve their problems. Besides, most of his anger was because of his fears. Fear that she’d been hurt, fear that she was with Nigel, fear that she’d leave him again. He sat down in the chair across from her. “What happened to the car?” he asked finally in a flat voice. “Or did you drink too much to drive?”

  She shook her head wearily. “I told you. I haven’t been drinking anything except orange juice. I smell bad because Vic spilled his drink on me.”

  “And the car?”

  “It’s been towed to a garage.”

  His voice rose. “You were in an accident?”

  She winced at his tone. “Nothing so dramatic. The car was vandalized. Someone slashed the tires, broke the driver’s side window and stole the radio. I had to wait around while the police filed a report.”

  And he thought she’d been out late partying. He was ashamed that he’d jumped to conclusions. “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “It’s a bad part of town. At least I wasn’t mugged.”

  “How can you be so calm about it?”

  “Because I’m fine, the baby’s fine, and I’m back home. I don’t want to argue.” She yawned. “I am so tired. I took a nap today, and I thought it would be okay to drop in on Julie’s party for a few minutes, but you were right. I shouldn’t have gone. I guess my dancing days are over.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” he said quietly. He liked dancing with her, especially slow dancing. “We should go dancing.”

  “Thanks,” she said wryly. “But not tonight. I just want to go to bed.” She held out her hand. “Help me up, would you?”

  Lars rose to his feet to help her up off the couch. She stood, then wrapped her hand around his arm. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed. “It’s good to be home.”

  His throat tightened. “It’s good to have to you home,” he said huskily. “I was worried.” He didn’t tell her he’d called Nigel, hoping to find her.

  She nodded. “Sorry I scared you. I would have called, but I couldn’t find my phone.”

  “You left it here in the bathroom.”

  “Good. I was afraid I’d lost another one.” She sighed, snuggling closer to him. “Would you mind sleeping with me tonight?”

  “What?”

  “Sorry, I’m not making pass at you. I’m too tired. It’s just that the bed is big, and I’m lonely. I thought it might be nice to sleep next to you, but if you don’t wa--”

  “No, I do want to,” he said quickly.

  Together they walked upstairs to the master bedroom. “I don’t even want to change clothes,” Kelly said. “I just want to flop down on top of the covers.” She pulled at her shirt and grimaced. “I smell like a brewery, don’t I?”

  “It’s not so bad,” Lars said. “Let me help you with those buttons.”

  For a moment he thought she as going to take offense at his suggestion, but instead she just stood there and smiled at him, waiting.


  He quickly undid the buttons of her blouse and she swayed forward. He caught her by the arms. “Thanks,” she said, looking up at him through dark lashes. “I’m so tired, I could sleep standing up.”

  Remember, this is the woman who kicked you off a couch and said she never wanted you to touch her. Don’t get greedy.

  He helped her ease the blouse off her shoulders and arms. Underneath that, she wore a lacy camisole. He’d discovered on their honeymoon that she rarely wore a bra.

  “Put that in the laundry, would you please?”

  He did as she asked, and when he returned, he found her lying in bed. Her jeans were on the floor. “Those, too,” she murmured, yawning.

  He threw her jeans in the laundry basket and must have broken the world record for stripping out of his clothes and finding some pajama bottoms, but when he came back, she was asleep.

  Ah Kelly, he thought, running his hand through his hair. You’re going to drive me crazy.

  He’d almost blown it tonight, accusing her of being irresponsible. He knew she wouldn’t knowingly endanger their baby, but sometimes she acted without thinking, and that worried him.

  He found himself over-reacting, saying things he’d never meant to say. What was it about her that made him so vulnerable? He prided himself on his self-control, on always thinking before he spoke, but lately it was getting more and more difficult to maintain the mask around her.

  He reached over and pulled up the sheet so that it covered her bare shoulder. She sighed and scooted closer to the middle of the bed. Did he dare share a bed with her tonight? From past experience he knew she was a snuggler. She liked to sleep with her head on his chest and one leg over his.

  One step at a time. Tonight he’d take what he could get, and be grateful. He slid under the covers, beside her, moving slowly so as not to disturb her. As if sensing his presence, she gravitated towards him. He thought of the last time they’d shared a bed. Tonight at least one of us will get some sleep, he thought with humor, then sobered.

  Please, Kelly. Whatever you do -- don’t change your mind in the morning.

  #

  Kelly rolled over, reaching for Lars, but he wasn’t there. Had she been dreaming? She stretched like a cat, trying to remember her dreams. She felt warm and snugly and amorous. She looked over at the other side of the bed, and there was an indentation on the pillow which meant he’d spent some time next to her.