Sweetest Mistake (Nolan Brothers #2)

by Amy Olle

  She dug up a dark blue dress she thought might complement her coloring, but again, the fabric pulled tight across her hips and abdomen. Though her belly hadn’t begun to round, she’d swear her hips had widened. That or she’d simply gained weight, which she could probably attribute to Luke’s genius for pasta dishes and sweet treats.

  Back at the racks, discouragement turned to frustration.

  A sharp longing wrenched her heart. She wanted her mom.

  Audrey had a knack for finding styles that complemented Emily’s unique assets and bright hair. More than that, Audrey had a way of melting Emily’s doubts and insecurities. They laughed and talked about interesting things and there just wasn’t time to focus on her shortcomings.

  The same as when she was with Luke.

  As she gazed into the mirror at the too-tight dress that made her skin appear sallow, her vision blurred. She was fat, and pregnant, and so damned lonely she’d agreed to marry a man who quite possible only wanted to marry her because she was pregnant.

  He shared his bed with her, but not his heart.

  Isobel peeked around the corner “How’s it going?” She took one look at Emily’s face and abandoned her armful of clothing. “Oh, sweetie, what’s wrong?”

  Words piled in Emily’s throat.

  Isobel dug in her pocket. “Best thing about having two little kids—I come prepared.” She handed Emily a rumpled tissue. “It’s clean, I promise.”

  Emily took the tissue and wiped her nose.

  “Wedding dress shopping is emotional.” Isobel motioned her to a plush bench in the fitting room. “Is there anyone you can bring along to help you?”

  Emily didn’t wish to put Mina out with everything going on. Her tears pushed to the surface. “M-my m-mom is gone.”

  Isobel dug out another Kleenex and plopped onto the bench next to Emily. “This isn’t right. We can’t both cry.”

  A watery laugh escaped Emily. “I’m sorry.”

  Isobel waved off her apology. “I lost my mom when I was sixteen. Which is probably why I jumped into marriage.”

  “With Shea?”

  A hard swallow worked Isobel’s throat and she nodded. “We got married the day I turned eighteen.”

  Emily thought back to her eighteen-year-old self, before college and her mom’s illness. “So young.”

  “Way too young. And naïve.” Isobel dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “It didn’t help I was pregnant. Nothing like an unplanned pregnancy to put a strain on a new relationship.”

  The blood left Emily’s head.

  Isobel twisted on the bench. “I have a dress I want you to look at. It’s a wedding dress, but it’s ivory, not white, and it’s in stock. I think it would fit you nicely. Want to try it?”

  Peering at Isobel’s pretty, hope-filled face, Emily didn’t have the heart to tell her no. She shrugged. “Sure.”

  Isobel returned with an armful of deep ivory lace and tulle. She hung the dress on a hook in Emily’s dressing room and shuffled her through the door.

  “It comes in two pieces.” She removed the gown from the hanger, but the tulle stayed behind. “You can wear the dress alone or with the tulle overlay. Want to start with the dress and see what you think?”

  In the dressing room, Emily shucked the ugly blue dress and stepped into the lace-embroidered, long-sleeved jacket dress, which fit her hips and ended mid-thigh. The dark ivory color turned her skin bronze and picked out the gold in her hair. Her dark eyes shimmered.

  For just a moment, she almost looked like a woman a man like Luke might marry.

  She opened the dressing room door.

  Isobel’s face lit up and she rushed forward. “I can take a couple of tucks here at your waist.” She pinned a spot at Emily’s lower back. “Do you want to try the tulle skirt?”

  Speechless, Emily nodded.

  Inch by inch, Isobel moved around her, hooking the tulle onto hidden hook-and-eye closures around the waist of the dress. The gossamer layers floated about Emily, dropping well below her knees.

  Isobel stepped away. “What do you think?”

  Emily touched the lace bodice, interwoven with gold thread and adorned with tiny crystals that caught the light. “I think it’s the most b-beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.”

  Radiant joy swept across Isobel’s face. “If you want it, I can cut you a deal.”

  “That isn’t necessary.” Emily pulled her gaze away from her own reflection. “Well, I guess I should ask how much it is before I say that.”

  Husky laughter trickled out of Isobel. “We’ll find a price you can live with.”

  Emily opened her mouth to explain she wasn’t worried about the price when Isobel continued.

  “You’ll be doing me a favor.”

  “How so?”

  “Free advertising.” A blush stained Isobel’s cheeks. “I’m thinking about opening my own store, with my own designs. This is my first dress.”

  “You made this? Oh, Isobel, it’s amazing.” Emily ran her hands over the bodice. “I insist on paying for it.”

  Isobel tilted her head to one side, studying Emily. “It’s so perfect on you.”

  The dress was perfect, and her marriage to Luke would be perfect, too. She might not take his breath away, or mend his wounded heart, but she could give him comfort.

  A new start.

  A family.

  Her heart, even if he didn’t ask for it.

  Isobel crept forward. “Those are happy tears, right?”

  “Right,” Emily whispered.

  She returned home feeling battered and bruised. In the foyer, the sound of voices drifted down the hall and Emily shuffled toward them. She poked her head around the library doorframe to peek inside the room.

  Honey stood with her back to the door. “I’m here to see Alistair Thane. Are you him?”

  Will glanced up from the chair behind the desk. “Who’s asking?”

  “I am. He’s purchased something valuable and I’m here to deliver.”

  Will’s head bent over the paperwork on the desk. “What are you delivering?”

  Honey unzipped her hoodie and let it drop to the floor. She stood before Will in a thin tank top. “Me.”

  “Cut!” Max shot from the shadows. “Honey, lose the bra.”

  A warning alarm screeched inside Emily’s head.

  “I knew it!” The plush rug swallowed the sound when Honey stomped her sneaker-clad foot. “I’m the bimbo that gets killed after an obligatory tit shot, aren’t I? Dammit, Max, I told you I wanted to do some actual acting in this movie. I’m trying to go legit here, but so far, all my character has done is make stupid decisions, including her choice of teeny-tiny T-shirts.”

  Max held up a hand. “Forget the zombie-slasher thing. We’re going in a different direction.”

  A collective groan went around the room.

  Honey folded her arms over her stomach. “And what direction would that be?”

  “The chemistry between you two is ridiculous,” Max said. “Besides, I’ve been thinking we need to take advantage of current trends.”

  “Current trends, huh?” Honey’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Which trends?”

  “S-s-superheroes?” With her outburst, five pairs of eyes swung toward Emily. “S-superheroes are popular.”

  Honey turned to Max, her head tilted to one side. “Are there gonna be any superheroes in this movie, Max?”

  The desk chair creaked when Will rocked back. “That’d be sick.”

  Max shifted his dark gaze from Honey to Emily. “Not that trend. Look, one of the biggest movies in years was an erotic novel adaptation. There’s a large, hungry market for adult romantic dramas.”

  Bile rose in Emily’s throat.

  Ian’s head stuck out from behind the camera. “Max, man, it’s a little late to start back at the beginning.”

  “I can use a lot of the footage we’ve already filmed.”

  A skeptical arch lifted Ian’s brow. “You can use cuts from a
zombie flick in your, what is it, erotic romantic drama?”

  Max’s dark eyes glinted. “The magic of editing.”

  Honey was shaking her head. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “You’re too talented to kill off.” Max’s tone held a hint of impatience. “Not to mention, you’re a million times more believable as a desperate virgin co-ed than an idiot murder victim.”

  Honey’s eyes grew huge. “That’s so sweet.”

  His upper lip curled. “That’s incredibly sad you think so. It’s also the truth. I may not like you, but I’m not going to lie to you.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Honey muttered.

  Max’s well-formed features hardened. “This is business, and we’re all here to make money. Anything else is a waste of time.”

  Honey sniffed. “If we’re going to do this, I want a raise.”

  Emily crept forward. “If we’re going to do wh-what?”

  “Ten percent,” Max said.

  “Twenty-five,” Honey countered.

  “Done.”

  A flash of surprise swept over Honey’s face. “And I want a makeup artist.”

  “No.” Max retreated to his chair in the corner.

  “If you want me naked, I get a makeup artist. It’s not negotiable.”

  “N-Naked?”

  “I just gave you a twenty-five percent raise,” Max bellowed. “Hire your own damn makeup artist.”

  Instinct screamed at Emily to take cover.

  “Think of it as an investment.” An impudent smile curved Honey’s wide mouth. “A few hours of makeup will add value to the final product. You’ll make back ten times what it cost, trust me on this.”

  Max’s jaw clenched. “Fine.” He headed for his corner. “Lose the bra.”

  Pain stabbed Emily’s temples. “Uh, M-Max? Aren’t you supposed to be done filming next week?”

  His brows pulled together. “We’re gonna need a little more time.”

  “How m-m-much time?”

  “Can you give me two weeks?”

  She fixed Max with an even stare. “I need p-payment upfront.”

  “No problem.” He started to turn.

  “And o-o-one more thing.”

  She caught the flicker of unease in his dark brown eyes before it was gone. “What’s that?”

  “Promise me you’re not violating any laws.” She rushed forward with the words piling in her throat. “O-or ordinances. Or p-permits.”

  “Easy.” His quick smile made him appear surprisingly boyish. “I promise I’m not violating any laws.”

  The day before her wedding, Emily learned a new snow word: lake effect.

  She and Luke had agreed to meet at his place for dinner, and she set off early so that she’d have time to stop at the grocery store on the way to pick up supplies for their meal. But while she was inside the store, the storm worsened.

  Winds lashed at her skin with a biting cold, and thick, sticky snowflakes dropped from the sky in a frenzied blur. In her newly leased sedan, her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as her visibility through the windshield shrunk to a few feet in front of the car’s nose. The roads grew treacherous and, as a girl from the desert, she struggled to handle the car in such conditions.

  At Luke’s apartment, she saw no signs of his SUV. She sent him a text, and he quickly responded. He’d been held up at work dealing with a surge of road spin-offs and other weather-related crises. He directed her to the loft’s spare key.

  For the next few hours, she watched the snow piling up.

  Her cell phone buzzed and she moved away from the slider to retrieve it off the dining table. Luke’s number lit up her display screen and she accepted his call.

  He gave her a quick update of the conditions. “Did Haven’s flight make it?”

  “Her flight is delayed. She’s stuck at the airport in Chicago.”

  “We’re supposed to get six more inches tonight, but it should slow down near midnight. You hunkered down there for a while?”

  “I am. Mina’s going to keep an eye on the inn for me.” No way would she attempt the drive home tonight. “What about you?”

  “It’s gonna be another few hours before I can get away. Don’t wait up.”

  She stirred when he slipped into the bed, and started to get up, but he clamped an arm around her and pulled her back down. He buried his face in her neck and soon the soft, rhythmic sound of his breathing lulled her back to sleep.

  When she next opened her eyes, the storm had passed, and through the patio doors, sunlight danced over the mantle of snow, setting off a twinkling display of diamond flecks amidst the snowdrifts.

  She turned when Luke moved over her. The sunlight caught in his green eyes, turning them brilliant, and the playful messiness of his dark hair pinched her heart.

  “Maybe we should w-wait until we’re married,” she teased.

  In answer, he shoved her T-shirt up around her waist and dropped a kiss on her stomach, near her belly button. She pulled the shirt over her head and his hungry gaze devoured her body. While she reveled in his open admiration of her, his mouth brushed over her ribcage, and then, moved lower. The tip of his finger trailed along her slit and liquid warmth sloped through her.

  His mouth pressed against her core and he tasted her with his tongue. She gasped with the shot of sensation and her awareness narrowed to the exquisite torture each lick of his tongue lashed.

  She rocked against his mouth, moaning, while waves of arousal whipped through her. She dug her hands into his hair and held him to her, greedily taking all he gave.

  A noise sounded in the far-off distance, but she was too far gone to the feel of his hot mouth to take heed.

  His hands gripped her waist, rendering her hips immobile while his tongue massaged and teased. Each soft slide coaxed more sensation, more whimpers.

  Just then, a woman’s voice punctured the quiet. “Honey, I’m home.”

  Emily’s eyes flew open.

  A curse shot from Luke, and in one fluid motion, he rolled off Emily and tossed the sheets over her naked body.

  Emily thrashed to a sitting position to find a beautiful woman standing in the doorway of Luke’s loft.

  “What in the hell are you doing here?” Luke yanked a pair of boxers over his hips.

  The woman’s chestnut hair shimmered about her shoulders when she flipped it. “I couldn’t miss the big day. My invitation must’ve been lost.”

  A man appeared in the doorway and stepped past the woman.

  Luke drew up. “You did this?” His voice held an edge of barely contained fury.

  Even in her frantic state, Emily pegged the newcomer as a Nolan. The youngest brother, Leo, maybe? Though his dark hair was cut short to his scalp, his deep-set, thickly lashed eyes, straight nose, and swarthy skin gave him a marked resemblance to the brothers.

  He staggered into the room and collapsed in one of Luke’s armchairs. “Help, I’ve been kidnapped.” His head dropped onto the chair back and his eyes fell shut.

  “Oh, Lukie, I love what you’ve done with the place.” A gasp slipped from the woman’s painted mouth. “You kept our bed?”

  Emily’s patience ran out. “Luke, wh-who is she?”

  The woman turned heavy-lashed, wide-set eyes on Emily. “I’m his wife.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Ex-wife.” Luke’s hands balled into tight fists at his sides.

  A pout turned down the corners of the woman’s mouth. “You make it sound so ugly.”

  “You were m-m-married?” Emily couldn’t keep the waver, or the weakness, from her voice any more than she could control the blasted stutter. “Wh-why didn’t y-you tell m-m-me?”

  With a frustrated growl, Luke shoved a hand through his hair. “There was nothing to tell.”

  A chill passed through Emily and she turned her head to find Luke’s brother watching her with changeable green-gold eyes. Like Jack’s eyes, except cold.

  “Well, isn’t that interestin
g,” he murmured.

  She clutched the sheet tight to her chest and scooted toward the edge of the mattress.

  Vicious lines formed on either side of Luke’s mouth. “You brought her here?”

  The man showed Luke his palms. “Other way around. Last thing I remember I was boarding a flight to this godforsaken state, and the next thing I know, I wake up in the backseat of her car. She brought me here against my will.”

  “You must’ve blacked out.” A dry smile twisted the woman’s mouth. “I can’t believe they let you board the plane when you were that drunk. You sure made the flight interesting, I’ll say that much.”

  Luke swore. “Jesus, Leo, I thought you were smarter than this.”

  “And I thought you were a cop. What the hell are you doing leaving the damn door unlocked?”

  “Oh, he locked it.” The woman held up a gold metal object. “I know where he hides the spare key.”

  Emily’s heart ached and her head followed suit. She pushed up off the bed, but her feet tangled in the sheets and she stumbled.

  Luke caught her elbow. “Where are you going?”

  His touch burned her skin and she jerked her arm free. “To get dressed.”

  The woman clicked her tongue. “Oh, dear, I haven’t upset you, have I? Believe me, you have no reason to be jealous. Luke didn’t love me.” Her cold blue eyes speared Luke. “He isn’t capable of love. It was only great sex between us.”

  The wrench of nausea stole Emily’s breath.

  Luke’s grip tightened on Emily’s arm and his jaw clenched. “Get her out of here. Now.”

  Leo hoisted himself to his feet. “All right, let’s go. You’ve had your fun.”

  “Leave the key,” Luke said.

  The woman quickly concealed the flash of disappointment on her face with a devious smile. “Call me later. We can hook up, like the old days.”

  Leo hustled her through the door and yanked it shut behind them.

  Silence dropped like an anvil between Luke and Emily.

  He’d been married.