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Authors: Debbie Macomber

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BOOK: Three Brides, No Groom
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Was John home after all? Had he slipped and fallen in the
shower? Her mind and heart raced at the speed of light. Should she investigate,
or get out of the house and leave him to his fate? Should she—

“Maddie!” She recognized Brent’s voice. “Theda’s coming.”

Her heart, which was already beating at double time, nearly
exploded out of her chest. John must be about to walk through the door at any
second, otherwise Brent wouldn’t have risked everything to warn her.

She dropped the file on the desk and nearly fell off the chair
in her rush to escape. She took three steps in the direction of the back door
and then abruptly changed course, afraid John would come in that way. Her heart
was jammed in her throat, and she was halfway to the front door when she heard
movement on the front porch.

Oh, no. John was going to walk in and catch her red-handed.

“In here,” Brent whispered urgently. He appeared out of
nowhere, grabbed her hand and jerked her toward the narrow hallway that led to
the bathroom and two bedrooms.

“Wait,” she whispered, spying the file on the desktop. She
refused to leave that behind, not when she’d come this far.

“There isn’t time,” he warned. “He’ll be inside any
second.”

“I won’t leave it.” She raced across the living room toward the
office and realized Brent was right—there wasn’t time. She turned back and made
it into the hallway and out of sight just as the front door burst open.

Brent pulled her into the bathroom and stepped with her into
the tub behind the shower curtain. She prayed that the thick floral print would
conceal them. She’d noted that the window was open and realized that this was
how Brent had gotten into the house in time to warn her. He’d risked everything
for her. The chance he was taking left her trembling.

She heard John speak, and then a second voice followed. So he
wasn’t alone. That didn’t surprise her. Neither did the fact that the other
voice was a woman’s. The words were too low for her to understand, but she
didn’t need to. The woman’s sultry tone told her everything. It was the tone
that belonged to a woman who knows what she wants and is convinced she’s about
to get it.

While Maddie wasn’t especially shocked, she did experience a
stab of pain. She bowed her head and covered her mouth with her hand. She’d been
so foolish, so incredibly foolish, to believe John had ever loved her.

Hardly breathing for fear of being discovered, she
instinctively leaned toward Brent. He stood behind her and braced his hands on
her shoulders, urging her closer, lending her his strength.

She felt him stiffen, and a heartbeat later realized why. John
and his friend were in the hallway outside the bathroom. She couldn’t see what
was happening, but judging from the sounds, it was clear the two were heavily
involved with each other. Kissing, groaning, whispering, panting. The sound of
their sexual eagerness rang as loud as church bells. It was abundantly clear
where they were headed, and it wasn’t the bathroom. Too bad, because she would
have loved shoving aside the shower curtain and giving them both the shock of
their lives. But common sense and the fact that Brent was with her kept her
still.

The sounds of their foreplay continued.

Maddie’s stomach churned. Unable to stop herself, she turned
around and buried her face against Brent’s chest. His arms closed protectively
around her, and he placed his chin on top of her head. How gentle he was, how
caring.

The sounds moved into the bedroom, and she flinched when she
heard the mattress springs squeak.

Brent pulled the shower curtain aside and motioned toward the
window, gesturing for her to go first.

She shook her head vehemently. She wasn’t leaving without that
file, and she let him know that with hand gestures and pleading looks.

His eyes widened and he shook his head furiously as they
continued their silent but impassioned argument.

She realized she needed to change tactics. Forcing herself to
relax, she smiled sweetly and attempted to assure him, charade-style, that he
didn’t have anything to worry about. John and his friend were so wrapped up in
each other, they would never hear a thing.

Brent rolled his eyes to the ceiling in a display of
frustration.

Her mind made up, and not wanting to waste any more precious
moments on this fruitless “discussion,” Maddie carefully climbed out of the tub
and moved through the bathroom, her footsteps muffled by the thick bath mat.
Brent was right behind her. Although she knew she never could have convinced
him, it would have been best if he’d left the same way he’d entered.

The sounds coming from the bedroom were more distinct now. She
peeked down the hallway and was greatly relieved to find the bedroom door
half-closed. Holding her breath, she shot into the living room, her steps
muffled by the broadloom—not that John was likely to hear, as preoccupied as he
was. The intensity of her anger at his treachery was enough to make her want to
throw something, knock over furniture. But once again common sense prevailed.
There was nothing to be gained by such an action and everything to lose.

Brent’s hand reached for hers, and he silently led the way into
the office. She grabbed the file off the top of the desk and grinned
triumphantly.

They tiptoed to the back door, and when Brent opened it, the
hinges squeaked. They both froze, held their breath and waited, though for what
she wasn’t sure. Retribution. To be discovered and arrested. Fear kept her
immobile until Brent urged her forward. Then he closed the door with great
care.

Once outside, she removed the key from her pocket and locked
the door, then carefully replaced it in the fake rock. The sun had long set, and
the lack of light was a welcome cover. The moon afforded them enough
illumination to find their way out to the street.

“I’m parked down here,” he said, pointing the way with his free
hand. His other continued to grip hers.

“You never should have come,” she said as they hurried
along.

His face was softened by the moonlight. “If I hadn’t, he would
have found you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

She sobered, deeply moved. She would be forever in his debt for
the terrible risk he’d taken on her behalf. What would have happened had she
been caught didn’t bear thinking about.

“I was an idiot, though,” he went on, “to allow you to do this
in the first place.”

“Do you honestly think you could have stopped me?”

“Yes! If I’d had my wits about me, I could have. Should have. I
need to have my head examined.”

They were nearly at the car, and she said, “I guess all’s well
that ends well.”

“You mean to say Theda actually saved your test?” he asked,
glancing at the file she held.

“I don’t know,” she told him. “I didn’t have time to look.”

They reached the car. He opened the door and helped her inside.
She waited until he’d joined her to open the file. She didn’t have far to look.
Her midterm was right on top.

Her gaze found Brent’s.

“That’s it?” he asked.

She nodded. John
had
saved it.

“Great!” The excitement in Brent’s voice said everything they’d
gone through was worth it.

As they drove away, she continued to stare at the test paper.
It seemed unreal. She’d actually done it. And now, here was the proof of John’s
treachery and fraud.

Suddenly she cried, “Stop!” and grabbed his arm.

He slammed on the breaks and stared at her.

She cast him a panic-stricken look. “We have to go back.”

Chapter 4

“G
o back?” Brent stared at Maddie as if
she’d just escaped a mental institution. “Back where?”

“To John’s house.” The man was being purposely obtuse. “I left
my soda behind.”

“Your soda?” Each word was said slowly and distinctly.

“Yes.” Clearly he didn’t understand the significance of what
she was saying, and if he would stop asking her silly questions, she would
explain.

“Where in the name of heaven did you get a soda?”

“Where else?” she cried, growing more frustrated by the moment.
“Out of John’s fridge!”

“You were thirsty and so you helped yourself?” His mouth fell
open in disbelief.

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll buy you another,” he offered carefully, as though
speaking to an unreasonable child.

“You don’t understand!” she all but shouted.

“I’ll admit there appears to be a missing piece of
information.”

“Of course there is. Did you honestly believe I’d risk
everything because I was thirsty?”

“To be honest, the thought
had
entered my mind.”

“John doesn’t drink soda. He prefers bottled water or white
wine. He considers soda unhealthy. I can’t tell you the number of times he
lectured me about its evils.”

“And?” Brent prompted.

“And…well, I really didn’t care what he said. The decision was
mine, and I like soda. So I bought my own and kept a supply at his house. This
evening, after I got inside, I realized I was thirsty. I looked in the fridge,
and sure enough, there was my six-pack.”

“If he hates the stuff so much, why didn’t he throw it
out?”

“Because he’s basically lazy.”

“Okay, okay, continue,” he said, urging her to explain
further.

“I took the can to John’s desk, and in my panic, I left it
behind. The minute he sees it there, he’ll know something’s not right. He’ll
guess it was me, and he’ll know why I’d been there. My fingerprints are all over
that can.”

Brent groaned.

“We have to go back,” she insisted, furious with herself for
being so careless. “I can’t believe I did something so stupid.”

“You honestly think he’ll notice?”

“Yes. But probably not until morning.” Not while he was wrapped
up in his current preoccupation, which from the sound of things, would keep him
engaged well into the night.

“Maddie, I know what you’re saying, but we can’t risk
returning. Not now.”

Part of her realized he was right, but another part was
chomping at the bit to remove the one piece of evidence that would clue John in
that she had been in his house. “Maybe he won’t contact the police,” she
suggested hopefully. All she’d removed from the house was something that
belonged to her. But he would. Deep down, she knew it. This wasn’t something he
would be willing to overlook. Not when she held the one piece of evidence that
would show him for the fraud he was.

They drove out of the neighborhood in silence. All at once she
was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

“You okay?” he asked when he stopped at a red light.

She smiled weakly. “A little tired.” Thoughts of the soda can
drifted away. There was nothing she could do about that now.

“Close your eyes and put your head on my shoulder,” he
said.

She did as he advised and was comforted by his solid strength.
“When I was a little girl, my dad used to sing to me when he carried me up to
bed.”

“What song?”

“Just an old lullabye. My dad loved to sing. I do, too,
sometimes.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to chatter. Rarely did she
mention her father. After his death, she’d learned not to, because it upset her
mother. Later, it seemed more important to hold the memories close to her own
heart, as though exposing them would water them down, weaken them in her own
mind. She’d been secretly engaged to John for almost two months, and except to
say that her father was dead, she had never mentioned him. Never told John how
she grieved for her father to this very day.

She didn’t want to examine her reasons for sharing this
favorite of all memories with Brent. If she stopped to think about it, she was
sure to find some profound significance, but she was too tired. Too tired and
perhaps a little afraid.

Brent started to hum, the sound low and melodic. Tears formed
in the corner of her eyes at his kindness.

Rather than let him see her tears, she closed her eyes and
pretended to be asleep. Pretended she was once more protected by someone she
loved and who loved her. The fantasy worked far too well, because the next thing
she knew they were parked outside her apartment building and Brent was
whispering her name.

“Maddie.” His voice seemed to come from a great distance.
“You’re home. Don’t you want to go inside?”

She made a soft protesting sound, too warm and comfortable to
move.

“If you want, I’ll walk in with you and check behind the shower
curtain to be sure no one’s hiding there.”

“Okay.” She didn’t hesitate to accept—and not because she was
afraid of a robber taking up residence in her apartment. Truth was, she wasn’t
ready to be separated from Brent. It was too soon, and she didn’t want him to
leave. She suspected he felt the same way about leaving
her
. In the short hours since they’d met at the Java Joint, they’d
bonded. He had risked everything for her. His reputation, his career, his
future. No one had ever cared that much for her. No one had ever put so much on
the line for her. She snuggled closer to his warmth, and he stroked his chin
across the top of her head.

After a moment or two his shoulder rose and fell with a deep
breath. “Maddie, look at me.” His words were little more than a wisp of
sound.

Slowly she lifted her head, and their eyes met. He wanted to
kiss her. She wanted it, too, and when his mouth swooped down on hers, she felt
as if she were being lifted up, transported to another sphere. After the initial
contact, he kissed her again, slowly, carefully, as though he feared his need
would frighten her. His teeth tugged at her trembling lower lip and then he
introduced his tongue, delicately tasting her mouth.

It didn’t take her long to respond and kiss him back, catching
his lower lip with her own teeth, nibbling, and then teasing him with the tip of
her tongue. Kissing had never been this good. Not with anyone.

At one time she had considered herself an expert in the art of
kissing. She’d been tutored by some of the best, but what she’d learned was
technique. What she experienced with Brent was a tenderness, a purity of
emotion, that pierced her soul.

He broke off the kiss and, after claiming a moment to compose
himself, he escorted her to the door of her apartment. She discovered that her
hand was shaking too badly for her to insert the key into the lock.

He did it for her, though his hands didn’t appear much
steadier. He turned the knob and opened the door for her to enter. She walked
in, clutching John’s file to her breast. When she realized Brent hadn’t
followed, she turned around.

“Are you coming in?” she asked, mildly surprised that he
remained in the hallway.

He shook his head.

She frowned. “Why not?”

He hesitated, as if weighing his response. “Because if I do, I
won’t be leaving until morning.”

Hot color roasted her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze. He
reached out and brushed the soft skin of her face with the back of his hand. She
closed her eyes and covered his fingers with her own. She yearned to thank him,
to tell him that his honesty, his restraint, his generosity in refusing to use
her, had renewed her faith in men. She’d known him four years, and yet she had
never really known him, the same as he’d never completely known her. But then no
one at college had. She hadn’t allowed anyone close enough to see her as she
actually was.

Until now.

Brent’s kindness when he’d found her in church had deeply
affected her. Less than forty-eight hours later he’d jeopardized everything for
her. No one had ever cared that much. That alone had rejuvenated her belief in
human goodness and kindness. Now he was admitting a desire to make love to her,
but because he was an honorable man, he wouldn’t place either of them in the
path of temptation.

Moisture filled her eyes.

He seemed to think she was asking him to explain himself,
because he said, “You trust me, Maddie. I’m not willing to destroy that.”

She did trust him and always would. Completely. Utterly. With
everything in her. Again and again he’d proved himself. In the past two days
he’d revealed the true depth of his character. By contrast, John, whom she’d
dated and loved and trusted, had used her, belittled her and broken her
heart.

“I’ll call you in the morning,” Brent promised.

She smiled and nodded, reluctant for him to leave.

He turned to walk away, then abruptly turned back and hugged
her fiercely. “Don’t ever sell yourself short again, understand?”

“Never,” she promised.

His hold relaxed. “Good night, Maddie.”

“Good night.”

* * *

Maddie awoke feeling refreshed and alive. The sun shone
through her bedroom window, glorious and bright. She rolled her head to one side
and groaned when she realized the time. She’d forgotten to set her alarm. If she
didn’t rush, she would be late for work.

Tossing aside the covers, she hurried into the bathroom,
showered and dressed. Breakfast consisted of an English muffin, which popped up
from the toaster at the precise moment the phone rang.

Brent. It had to be.

She almost tripped in her eagerness to get to the phone.
“Morning,” she answered cheerfully.

Cold silence slapped her in the face.

“Hello,” she tried again, and a chill scooted down her
spine.

“You were in my house.”

John.

A breath jammed in Maddie’s throat before her defenses snapped
into place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she returned indignantly.
“As I recall, you asked me not to contact you again, which I haven’t. I expect
the same courtesy from you.” With that she replaced the receiver in its cradle.
Hanging up on him might have been childish, but it sure felt good. Besides, she
had nothing more she wanted to say to him unless it was in a court of law, and
she would let an attorney do the talking for her there.

The phone rang again, and she jumped as if she’d received an
electrical shock. Fearing it might be John again, she allowed the answering
machine to pick up the call.

“Maddie?” Brent asked. “Are you awake?”

“Brent.” She leaped for the phone, saying his name even as she
brought the receiver to her mouth. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” He sounded groggy and relaxed, as if he’d just
awoken.

“Did you sleep well?”

“As well as can be expected,” he murmured, and she could hear
the smile in his voice.

“Me too.”

He yawned. “Are you doing anything special this evening?”

“I…no, nothing.” If she was, she would cancel it.

“No bank robberies or any other crimes plotted?”

“No,” she said, and laughed, giddy with happiness. John could
call and say whatever ugly things he wanted, but he couldn’t destroy the joy she
felt being with Brent.

“Do you think you could pencil me in for dinner?”

“I’ll have to check my day planner, but I believe it could be
arranged.” Her feet floated several inches above the ground.

“Six o’clock?”

“Perfect.” That gave her enough time to arrive home, change and
freshen up.

“My parents want to meet you.”

His parents! She nearly dropped the phone. He was joking. He
had to be. He was playing a trick on her. A silly prank to pay her back for the
craziness she’d subjected him to last night.

“You’re not serious, right?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

In all the years she’d been dating, no man had taken her to
meet his parents. And Brent’s father was a minister, and his mother…well, she
was a minister’s wife.

“Uh…why?” She wanted to suggest it was a bit early for her to
meet his parents but stopped herself. That would have implied Brent was serious
about her, and it was much too soon for them to be serious. Wasn’t it?

“Why?” he said. “A number of reasons. I mentioned you earlier
in the week and—”

“You mentioned me?” Oh, no. “What did you say?”

When he didn’t answer right away, she was sorry she’d asked.
She said quickly, “That’s all right. You don’t need to tell me.” He must have
done what she feared most—relayed the stories about her that had circulated
around campus. The men she’d supposedly known, slept with, entertained. Her
wildness, her antics, her pranks.

“I told Mom I’d run into you recently,” he explained, “and I
mentioned that I’d never really known you and was sorry I hadn’t made the effort
while we were in college, because I find myself completely enthralled with you
now.”

“Oh, Brent.” She closed her eyes and pressed the phone hard
against her ear.

“Mom seemed to think I’ve been given a second chance and should
make the most of it.”

“We’ve both been given a second chance, don’t you think?” she
asked.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Now, are you coming to dinner or not?”

She needed time to mull over this invitation to his parents’
home. It was such an important step….

“Maddie?” he asked when she remained silent. “It’s my parents.
They won’t bite, I promise. Well, not unless provoked.” He paused. “There’s no
need to be nervous.”

“Oh, all right,” she said, tossing out her acceptance to hide
how deeply affected she was. “I mean…tell your mother I’d be honored to join her
and your father for dinner.”

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll hold your hand the entire
evening.”

“I don’t need anyone to hold my hand,” she assured him, though
his offer filled her with pleasure.

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