Unexpected Bride (8 page)

"She's okay," Abby assured him. "She's just confused right now. She needs some time alone to figure out what she really wants."

"Maybe she should have figured
that
out before she accepted Josh's proposal. It's pretty damned flaky to back out at the altar," the best man grumbled, pushing a hand through his blond hair and then massaging the back of his neck.

"Molly is not flaky." Colleen defended her sister.

Abby saved her breath. She would need it later, to defend herself when Clayton launched his attack. She looked at the open window, tempted to climb over the sill herself. But Lara wouldn't approve of that any more than she had approved of Abby running in church. Sometimes she wondered which of them was the child and which the parent.

The groom probably didn't have that problem with his boys, who were now amusing themselves plucking the petals off each other's boutonnieres. Carnation petals dropped to the carpet like red confetti.

"It's my fault," Josh offered. "I rushed her into this, even though I knew she wasn't ready."

Nick gripped his friend's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. She could have told you no. This just goes to show you
they
can't be trusted."

Instead of being offended like Colleen, who gasped at the comment, Abby smiled. Obviously, Nick Jameson had dated women the same caliber as the men she'd dated. She understood his bitterness.

"What are we going to do with all the food?" Mrs. McClintock asked as she joined the rest of the wedding party. "Mrs. George and the Kellys have been cooking for days. We can't let all that food and hard work go to waste."

"Are you serious, Mom?" Colleen asked, apparently stunned by the cool practicality of her mother's question.

Abby wasn't surprised. Mrs. Mick had always been a sensible woman who'd pragmatically handled all the challenges life had thrown at her. She'd survived losing her husband. She'd raised her children to be smart, responsible adults. Like Abby, she actually knew that Molly had a good reason for skipping out before her vows.

Abby wondered which, of the several ones she'd given Molly the night before, was the reason that had compelled her to run. Molly hadn't said in the letter. Although she'd only mentioned two things in her note, she wanted too much. Time alone to sort things out was no problem, but Molly had also asked Abby to stay in Cloverville and wait for her to come back. For how long?

Mrs. McClintock glanced at the slim wristwatch she wore beneath her carnation-and-lily corsage. "The food is already at the reception hall, along with the drinks. It's all already paid for, and we can't cancel."

"We
have
to cancel the reception," Clayton said. "We have to cancel the wedding."
Damn.
As acting father of the bride, that was his responsibility. His earlier stall in the church had been just that—a stall, in the hope that he'd come back to this room and find Molly in her gown and veil, waiting impatiently to walk down the aisle. "I'll go make the announcement to our guests."

"That's not your responsibility," Josh told him.

"You're new," Rory snorted. "You don't know yet that Clayton thinks
everything
and
everyone
is his responsibility."

Clayton clenched his jaw. Rory thought he
chose
to take responsibility for everything? His father's death had left Clayton with no choice.

"We can't let all that food go to waste " Mrs. McClintock insisted.

"Daddy, I'm hungry!" Buzz shouted. His brother's boutonniere had no petals left to distract him.

"When are we having cake?" T.J. asked. "I want cake!" His lower lip began to quiver.

"Aren't we going to have a party?" Lara asked. Her lip didn't quiver, and her eyes remained dry, but the disappointment in her voice touched something deep inside Clayton.

"I did already pay for the food," he acknowledged. He'd insisted on paying Mrs. George and the Kellys up front. Mrs. George supported her family by catering and he hadn't wanted them to put out any of their own money. "Mom's right. We shouldn't let it go to waste. Josh, would it be okay with you if we..."

"If you have my wedding without the bride?" Josh asked. Instead of bitterness, humor laced his voice. Perhaps he hadn't been any readier to get married than Molly. "Only if you let me pay."

"No, that's out of the question," Clayton said. His sister had been the one to back out, and he would be the one to clean up the mess. But he didn't blame Molly. He blamed Abby. Like the groom, however, he wasn't nearly as angry as he should have been. Maybe Abby had done them all a favor. "I'll go and explain the situation to our guests."

"Situation?" Nick repeated. "How are you going to explain this?"

"He's a salesman." Rory once again sang his brother's "praises." "Don't worry, he'll sell it."

And he sold it. Abby couldn't keep the twinkle from her eyes as she remembered his words. "My sister wasn't quite ready for today, but the reception hall
will
be. We'd like for you to join us for dinner, cake, drinks and dancing. And, of course, to laugh over this latest scandal." Nervous chuckles replaced the earlier hushed murmurs. He'd relaxed their guests and tempered the embarrassment.

Now, if only Abby could relax. But pressed tight against Clayton's side, she could barely draw a breath. Lara nudged her, pushing Abby even closer to Clayton as she tried to escape the wrestling ring bearers on the other side of her on the bench seat of the limousine.

Across from Clayton, Rory, Colleen, Nick and Brenna shared the other seat. Alone in the back sat the jilted groom. "So no one's going to uncork the champagne?" Rory asked, gesturing toward a bottle chilling in a bucket of ice.

Colleen jabbed an elbow into her younger brother's ribs. Reacting just as the twins would have, he shoved her over until she nearly wound up on Nick's lap. But the best man moved away in response, inadvertently pushing Brenna onto the floor. The redhead, landing smack on her butt, erupted with laughter.

Abby joined in. Then Colleen started sputtering. Finally Abby felt Clayton's body move as laughter rumbled deep in his chest. Buzz and T.J. dissolved into fits of giggles. Lara, taught not to laugh at others, tried to hold out. But Abby tickled her ribs, and the little girl joined in.

The groom shook his head, then chuckled, too. "What a day..."

"It's not over yet," Brenna warned him as he reached for her hand and helped her onto the seat next to him. "Are you sure you want to do this, the limo, the reception?"

"We're not calling it a reception anymore," Josh reminded her. "It's an open house for the town."

"We
don't live here," Nick pointed out.
"We
don't need to go."

"Not yet, but we're opening our office in Cloverville," Josh said. "We need to meet our potential patients."

When Abby opened her second office—in Chicago— she'd held just such an open house, inviting all her potential clients. Her first office, in Detroit, had been in a corner of a dumpy motel room. Where should she open her third? During the sleepover, Colleen had tried to convince her that Cloverville needed her business. But Abby didn't need Cloverville. How could she stay here and wait for Molly?

"So can we open the champagne now?" Rory asked his brother.

The grin faded from Clayton's handsome face. "No. And even if we did, you wouldn't get any."

"Come on," Rory argued.

"Rory." Clayton said his brother's name in a way that sounded like a warning—the same way he usually said Abby's name.

Recognizing the lone, she suppressed a smile. Clayton still thought of her as the screwed-up teenager she hadn't been in such a long time. But then how could he see her as anyone else? He didn't know who she was now, only who she'd been.

What about him? Why did she want to know who
he'd
become? Besides an insurance agent and a big brother, who was he as a man?

"You're lucky you didn't marry into this family," Rory told the groom. "We never have any fun!"

The headache that had started to throb around at Clayton's temples back at the church intensified. He closed his eyes against the pain. But that was a mistake. With his eyes closed, he couldn't see. He could only feel. Abby's body pressed tight against his side. His thigh tensed as her hip rocked against it. The limo turned again and she nearly slid onto his lap. The rest of his body tensed, as well, and he groaned.

"It's not that bad," Abby murmured, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered beneath the other conversations taking place in the limo.

"What?"

"You handled everything really well back at the church," she complimented him.

"You only say that because I didn't wring your neck," he whispered back, unable to fight the grin that was forming. He should be furious with her. Somehow he just knew that if Abby had skipped the wedding as well as the rehearsal, he would have walked Molly down the aisle to her groom and she would have said. "I do." But would she have been happy?

Abby laughed again, softly, her breast jiggling against his arm. He bit back another groan.

"You still blame me," she said, shaking her head. Her hair brushed against his jaw, the scent of lilies enveloping him.

"Tell me you didn't try to talk Molly out of getting married," he challenged her.

"If I did, would you believe me?" she asked.

Who was challenging whom? "Abby..."

Abby's lips curved upward. She leaned closer and murmured, "Don't hurt yourself trying to trust me."

"Abby..."

"I did." The car turned and she shifted even closer.

"What?" With her lips pretty well touching his skin, skimming across his jaw next to his ear, his nerves jumbled, and he'd forgotten what they were talking about.

"I talked Molly into running."

He'd known it the minute he'd found the dressing room empty, even before he'd noticed the note pinned to the dress. But he wasn't nearly as angry with her now as he'd been at that minute.

Oblivious to the other conversations going on around her, Abby focused solely on Clayton and waited for his fury, for some reaction from him. But he leaned back in the seat and lifted his arm to rest along the back. The sleeve of his tuxedo jacket brushed against her bare shoulders.

"You're not mad?" she asked.
She was.
Crazy mad because his proximity had her heart racing, her skin turning rosy pink and her breath growing shallow.

"I'm mad," he stated in a low, flat voice.

"You're not acting mad." Why wasn't he acting mad?

"I can't wring your neck in front of witnesses." he muttered as he closed his eyes, probably imagining her murder. "I'll do that later. When we're alone."

Abby had already vowed to make certain she was never alone with Clayton McClintock. and not for fear of her neck so much as her heart. She couldn't fall for Clayton. Her love for him now would be just as unrequited as her first crush had been all those years ago.

Guilt nagged at Abby as she stepped into the crowded reception hall. From the ice sculpture to the open bar, Clayton had spared no expense.

"It's so pretty," Lara murmured as she took in the fairy lights and flowers decorating the hall.

"It looks like Christmas," Buzz said, his neck swiveling around as if he were searching for a sleigh and Santa Claus.

Lara shook her head. "Valentine's Day."

With the red-and-white lights and balloons, the decorated hall was at least as romantic as the holiday of love. But Molly hadn't loved the groom or she wouldn't have gone out the window. Abby had to remind herself of that, to keep the guilt from weighing too heavily.
She
hadn't confused Molly; Molly had already been confused and unsure. Until now. And now Molly knew she needed time to sort things out. and she needed Abby to stay here, among so many difficult memories.

The DJ, catching sight of people in red dresses and black tuxes, played a drum roll. "And here's your wedding party!"

Clayton, wildly waving his arms, tried to stop the announcements. But the tables were tucked in tight between the entrance and the dance floor, and he couldn't get around everyone before the DJ began to call out their names. Brenna hadn't bothered to line them up as she had at the church, so no one was called by the appropriate name as the introductions were read. He'd gotten to the bride and groom by the time Clayton finally reached him, slamming a hand over the mike too late.

The speakers screeched. As Claylon whispered to the DJ. the guy's face flushed bright red. Then Clayton took his hand from the mike and spoke into it. "Thank you all for joining us. Cloverville has been long overdue for a party. We really don't need an occasion to get together with our friends and neighbors and have a community celebration."

"Weddings and funerals," Rory grumbled from near Abby. "That's what this town thinks is a party."

The teenager should have been able to remember his father's funeral, unless the memories had been so painful he'd suppressed them. No one had been celebrating then. Abby couldn't remember a dry eye in the church. Except for Clayton. He'd just been a boy, really, but he'd tried so hard to act the man in his father's place, being a strong and steady pillar for his grieving family. Even when she'd resented his assumption of authority over her and her friends. Abby had always admired him for that.

"We actually do have an occasion," Mrs. McClintock said, joining her son on the dance floor. "Let's make this a Welcome Home, Abby and Lara Hamilton party."

Abby's heart warmed. Mrs. Mick was such a sweetheart. But Clayton obviously didn't think so. Even from a distance, Abby noted the muscle that jumped in his cheek as he clenched his jaw. He'd been willing to pay for a community open house, maybe because he could use it as a tax write-off. But he wasn't happy about bankrolling a welcome home party for her.

Lara tugged on Abby's hand. Her voice quavering with excitement, she asked, "Mommy, the party's for us?"

"Oh, honey..." She rarely had to tell her daughter no. because Lara never wanted much.

But Clayton spared her the trouble when he said, "Yes, the party's for Abby and Lara Hamilton." He stopped, cleared his throat and said. "Welcome home to Cloverville."