Runaway Christmas Bride

by Cindi Madsen

  “I haven’t checked to see if they have a room for me, but I was told to go to the Cozy Cottage.”

  Since the lady who owned the Cozy Cottage was one-half of the pissed-off party, Emmett also knew that she and her daughter had left town for the night, and that meant there was no getting her checked in right now. Add in the burst pipe that had shut off access to at least one or two of the spare rooms, and they were up a creek.

  Maybe water’s a too-accurate analogy. The town plumber wouldn’t drop everything to fix the pipe since he had other jobs scheduled, and that was when Emmett had been called in. A few of the local boys had at least slowed the leak, but pipes needed to be purchased from the next city over, and Fern was hopping mad the plumber wouldn’t bump her to the top of his list.

  Fern had insisted that, with the Snowflake Inn booked, it was important she have spare rooms, and Emmett had inwardly rolled his eyes that she thought anyone would unexpectedly enter their tiny town and suddenly need a room. At one point it’d even been suggested that he drive to get the pipes, like he could simply abandon his post. Now he got to be the one to tell the woman across from him that there was no room at the inn. A little too ironic considering the time of year.

  “The Cozy Cottage had to close for the night, but I’m sure we can find you a place to stay.”

  “How far’s the next town? I can’t drive, but maybe if I get a taxi?”

  “It’s a good hour’s drive from here. Not to mention it’s snowing pretty hard now.” He glanced at the guys who’d been so helpful at plying her with alcohol. “Jack? Don’t you guys have a spare room?”

  His eyes flew wide. “My wife would kill me if I brought home a pretty girl I met at the bar, no matter what the explanation. I just got my bar privileges back, at that.” He glanced at her. “Sorry, Regina.”

  She swiped a hand through the air, the don’t-worry-about-it in the gesture clear.

  Emmett turned to Corbin.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I got more kids than beds, and the dogs occupy the couch.”

  The other guy down the bar was married to Fern’s daughter, so Emmett couldn’t exactly ask them to do him a favor.

  More head shakes all around, and he noticed that Grumpy had backed away before he could even ask. Great. He’d just promised not to arrest her, and not that he would, but he could hardly cart her to the jail to sleep on an uncomfortable bed in her wedding dress. Obviously, she’d had a hard enough day.

  Taking her to his house? The words bad idea flashed through his head. Not only because he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was and forgetting that he needed to remain professional, but also because she shouldn’t go home with a perfect stranger who lived alone. He knew she’d be safe, but she was drunk, her judgment impaired, and he wouldn’t put her in that situation. In fact, if she accepted an offer like that, he’d have to lecture her about reckless decisions.

  There was only one option, as he saw it. He only hoped it didn’t mean more of Friendship’s female citizens being upset with him.

  “I have an idea. I’ve just gotta make a call …”

  Chapter Two

  Regina’s first thought upon entering the bar and grill earlier, only to have everyone stare at her, had been to run for the second time that day.

  But then someone had shouted, “Hon, you look like you could use a drink!” And every time her smile had faltered, both during and after the retelling of her failed nuptials, the guys called for another shot, and she might’ve gotten carried away.

  Mr. Hottie Police Officer placed his hand on her lower back as he guided her out of Grumpy’s but then quickly jerked it away. Apparently, she was the only one feeling the attraction vibes. Or maybe that was the alcohol. Given the dirty blond hair, kept short, the shaven face, the deep brown eyes, and the way he carried himself—almost as if he owned this town—she’d be attracted sober or drunk or any stage in between. But hello, she’d just gotten out of a relationship—understatement—and he was so dang serious. Which was something she’d been accused of being more times than she could count.

  Can’t you just relax and have a little fun? Steve had asked after dinner a couple of weeks ago.

  I’ll relax after the wedding, she’d said, the way she often put off her relaxation until the next thing was done, and then the next thing, until she couldn’t remember the last time she’d relaxed. About thirty or so minutes ago was rather blissful, but reality was knocking at the door now, and as hard as she pushed against the other side, it’d come busting in soon enough.

  Regina stepped up to the back of the police car, but Sheriff Haywood opened the passenger door instead and guided her toward it. “You’re up front with me. And here.” He shed his police coat and thrust it at her.

  “I don’t really feel cold.” Weird, because a layer of snow covered the ground and more of the white stuff drifted down around them, like they were in one of those pretty globes. An officer and a bride—not the usual snow globe characters, but it made her smile anyway.

  “You’ve got goose bumps, so you’re cold. Just put it on.”

  “A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt,” Regina muttered, but did as he asked, and with the material still warm from his body, a different type of warmth rose up. The coat smelled nice, too, musky and woodsy, and if he wasn’t staring at her with a confused, frustrated expression on his face, she might’ve even lifted the fabric and taken a sniff.

  He opened his mouth as if to speak, but someone walked by, and the sheriff’s gaze moved to them. He nodded at the guy. “Hey, it’s getting bad out, and the storm’s supposed to dump more snow. You need a place to stay for the night?”

  “Thank you, Sheriff, but I’ve got somewhere to stay.”

  The voice sounded familiar, and as the guy stepped into the puddle of lamplight, Regina recognized the hitchhiker.

  “Hey, Gabe! You were totally right. That restaurant was the best, and the people here are the nicest.” She lifted a hand to the side of her face and stage-whispered, “Even if the sheriff is a bit grumpy.” She snorted a laugh. “Maybe he should own Grumpy’s.”

  The sheriff glanced at her, and remorse crept in. He was helping her out and had offered Gabe a place to stay too. And right when she’d decided he was the gruffest person she’d ever met, he’d made that Bugs Bunny joke. So now she struggled to land on the exact right description for him.

  “Um, thanks again for not arresting me,” she said.

  One corner of the sheriff’s mouth turned up a fraction of an inch, and her nerve endings pricked up as she anticipated getting a whole smile. But then his mouth flattened into a firm line, the good humor leaving as quickly as it’d come. He turned back, assumedly to address Gabe, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Hmm. I’m even more buzzed than I thought. She was returning to her one glass of wine limit from here on out.

  Now I’m making plans for all my future drinking. Yeah, Regina, you really are a barrel of monkeys. No wonder Steve got out while he could.

  “What’s with the face?” the sheriff asked.

  “What’s with your face?” she countered so she wouldn’t have to explain—and honestly, her outfit should say enough. Spoiler alert: any woman wearing a bridal gown not in a shop, the privacy of her own home, or while standing next to a groom, has had a bad day.

  “How do you know Gabe?” Sheriff Haywood asked.

  “He was out on the highway hitchhiking, so I gave him a ride into town.”

  A scowl creased the sheriff’s face. “You make it a habit of picking up strangers?”

  She swung out her arm, toward the spot Gabe previously occupied. “You just offered him a place to stay.”

  “Yeah, because he’s not a complete stranger to me, and I’m a big guy who could handle myself if someone attacked me.”

  “I have good gut instincts.”

  He gave her dress a pointed look, and her jaw dropped for the second time that night. Before she could say anything, he said, “Just … m
aybe don’t pick up too many hitchhikers. It makes it hard to keep people safe, even if I admire that you’d do something so nice for a stranger.”

  “Lucky for you, I’m not your concern most of the time.” She yawned, exhaustion suddenly hitting her hard. Cold was setting in, too, and she wrapped her arms around herself, glad for the jacket.

  “Well, here and now you are, and I plan to make sure you have a safe, comfortable place to sleep tonight, so why don’t you get in the car?” The sheriff nudged her inside, shoving the extra layers of her now snow-covered skirt into the car before shutting the door.

  Regina put on the seat belt, and as he drove down the road, she leaned back farther in the seat. Her brain told her to pay attention to her surroundings and what was happening, but her eyelids kept drifting closed, and all she vaguely recalled was being carried inside a warm house and laid on a couch. Voices, male and female, and then someone took off her heels and dragged a blanket over the top of her.

  She sighed at the comfort, and right before drifting off into that deep, blissful sleep, she swore that a callused hand cupped her cheek, there only for a moment before it was gone.

  Chapter Three

  The sound of clanging pots and pans jerked Regina awake, forcefully enough that she tumbled to the floor, something binding her legs and keeping her from catching herself. White tulle obscured her vision, along with a few dark curls, and as the scent of coffee invaded her senses, yesterday came screeching back to her. Standing at the front of the church, Steve telling her he couldn’t marry her, driving for hours, a bar and grill with friendly people, drinking way too much, and a very sexy cop.

  “You okay?”

  The deep voice washed over her, waking up every single cell in her body. She glanced up, wishing she were less of a hot mess and then deciding that ship had sailed last night when she asked if he was going to arrest her.

  She attempted to stand but found her legs still inexorably bound, so she flipped the veil off her face—she couldn’t believe she still had it on—and then tugged at the multiple layers of her gown, trying to free herself. “Things are a tad fuzzy. Are we at … your place?” A sober Regina would’ve never agreed to go home with a man she didn’t know, no matter what the circumstances.

  “My place.” A blond woman stepped into view and gave a little wave with the spatula in her hand, and Regina experienced an insane moment of jealousy. Of course, he had a gorgeous girlfriend. “I’m Callie—his sister.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Crap, had she accidentally revealed her relief? It didn’t mean he didn’t have a girlfriend, and since she was merely driving through town, that didn’t matter anyway. “But you don’t live together?” A weird question, but her brain wasn’t at the top of its game.

  “I have a place of my own not far from here,” the sheriff said, his eyebrows knitted together, acknowledging the weirdness of the question.

  “So you stayed to watch over me?” A swirl of warmth went through her. For such a gruff guy, that was surprisingly considerate. She had on a dark brown coat with a badge emblem too—his coat. “Because you were worried about me?”

  His expression made it clear that not only was she miles from the truth, he definitely thought she was a crazy person. Considering her current situation, she wasn’t sure she could contest that assessment.

  Her stomach dropped as dawning hit. “Because you were worried I might be a psycho, and you didn’t want to leave me alone with your sister.” She finally managed to get her skirt untwisted enough to push to her feet.

  “You were drinking in a bar while wearing a wedding dress,” he said, and his sister smacked his arm and whispered for him to “Be nice, Emmett.”

  Emmett. That name fit him, although since he’d introduced himself as Sheriff Haywood, clearly Regina didn’t get to use it.

  “It’s okay. He did a nice thing bringing me here instead of making me sleep it off in jail. Can’t ask for much more than that. And my name’s Regina, by the way.” She reached up, removed her veil, and tossed it on top of her purse, which had been placed on the coffee table, and not by her. At least, she didn’t remember doing it. “Obviously, yesterday was a rough day. I’m sorry if I caused any inconvenience. I’ll, um, find my car and then make a plan to get out of your hair.”

  “We’ll get to that after breakfast,” the sheriff said. “How do you like your coffee?”

  “Caffeinated.”

  He cracked a smile—an actual, full smile with a hint of teeth. And as she walked toward the steaming mug he offered, it felt like maybe one day she could look back at this whole ordeal and there’d be more than just bad memories in the mix.

  Emmett glanced across the cruiser at Regina, who was now wearing a pair of his sister’s too-short jeans along with a fuzzy sweater that made him want to pet it and see how soft it was. The thought of her leaving bothered him for some reason, even though the woman had only brought about a lot of complications.

  Regina made a wistful noise as she peered out the window. “Look how cute this place is with all the garland, ribbon, and ‘Season’s Greetings’ flags. You’ve got the whole town decorated, and I bet there was a tree lighting ceremony and everything.”

  “It’s tonight, actually. It always causes a big ol’ fuss too. Every year I nearly have to break apart fights over who gets to flip the switch to light the tree.”

  She laughed. “Okay, Grinch, I hear you loud and clear. You think the town celebrations are silly.”

  He sighed. “Not all of them. People here just take every little event so seriously, and someone always gets offended, and guess who they come running to?”

  “The obvious answer says you, although I’m not sure why. If I wanted to rant, I’d choose a more sympathetic ear.”

  “And how do you know I’m not sympathetic?” he asked, trying not to be offended and experiencing a pinch of it anyway.

  “I never said you weren’t. In fact, between the help you gave me and offered to Gabe last night, I know you are. But sympathetic acts and a sympathetic ear are two different things, and I bet you cut rants short by telling people things like ‘suck it up.’ Possibly even suggest they’re complaining about First World problems.”

  “I would never use that phrasing, even if it fits.”

  She grinned like she’d caught him red-handed, and her smile hit him right in the chest. He’d already figured out plenty about her too. For example, she seemed like the type to expect a lot, which led to constant disappointments. Emmett had dated a woman with the same personality, and he and his small town had fallen short. Still, he felt bad Regina had been left at the altar, and clearly that guy should’ve had the guts to tell her before she’d gotten all dressed up in that beautiful gown. On account of that, he’d help her to her car and then wish her good-bye and get to work—he was already an hour behind schedule thanks to last night’s shenanigans.

  “That’s my car,” she said, her entire body tensing, and he frowned as he looked it over. The snow had dusted it, but with the sun moving higher in the sky, most of it had melted, revealing decorations that declared her “Just married!!!” Someone had really gone overboard on those exclamation points.

  “Why don’t I drop you off at the Cozy Cottage—I’ve got some business to settle there anyway—and then you can get your car later. It’s only a couple of blocks to walk it, or you can ask most anyone to give you a ride.”

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “So I can’t give away rides to strangers, but I can accept them?”

  “I can vouch for the people at the Cozy Cottage, along with the folks who run the convenience store and the diner, as well as Grumpy, who you met last night even if you don’t remember.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “It’s the gray-haired quilting ladies you have to be careful of. One minute you’re walking by, the next they’re trying to teach you to sew.”

  Her laugh filled the air, lifting the mood in the cruiser and causing a sensation in his gut that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “What do
you say? Will you let me take you to the B and B?”

  “Sure,” she said. “Let me just grab my suitcase.”

  He pulled next to her car, and when she ducked inside, he sent a group text to the guys who’d been so sympathetic to her plight last night. He told them to make sure that, by this afternoon, her car no longer showed any sign of her failed nuptials. He figured with the help of Fern—mad at him or not—he could at least convince Regina to stay for long enough that she didn’t have to drive around with the reminder of her failed wedding trailing after her.

  The conversation died when Regina and Emmett stepped into the Cozy Cottage, all eyes moving to them. Emmett had insisted on carrying her suitcase inside, and he moved it in front of him, almost like a shield, setting Regina’s nerves on high alert. What kind of place was she walking into?

  “Are you our bride?” a woman with a knotted gray bun on the top of her head asked, and Regina glanced down to make sure she had, in fact, changed out of her wedding dress.

  “This is her?” another woman inquired, taking a step toward Regina, and then several others were closing in.

  Regina clamped her hand on to the sheriff’s rather firm arm without thinking, and when she peered up into his brown eyes, her heart skipped a beat, making it that much harder to convince herself to let go. “These are the people you vouch for, right?”

  The corner of his mouth twisted up a fraction, but it was like he refused to let himself actually smile because that was as far as he let it go. “You’ll be perfectly safe. Now, whether or not you’ll ever get a moment’s peace again …? That’s another story.” He gave her an encouraging nod and turned to the woman with the bun, calling her Fern and asking if she had an open room for Regina.

  “Of course! I mean, it’d be easier if someone made the plumber fix our burst pipe yesterday, but since I went and got the parts myself—in a snowstorm, no less—I should have that issue fixed soon.” Fern tapped away at the keyboard of her computer. “In the meantime, I do have one last open room, although it’s one of the smaller ones.”