Three Brides, No Groom

by Debbie Macomber

  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.

  He responded with a hearty laugh. “OK, we’re on. I’ve got to get going, or I’ll be late for the academy. I’ll see you tonight at six.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” Not so much the dinner, because she knew she was going to be poked and prodded with questions, but being with Brent.

  * * *

  The workday was over before Maddie knew it. She was never quite sure why the large downtown insurance agency had hired a history major. She suspected Uncle Alfie had something to do with it. He had his connections and didn’t hesitate to use them. But she was happy to have the job and worked hard to prove herself.

  At five o’clock, spirits high, she breezed out of the office and was back at her apartment in plenty of time to be ready when Brent arrived.

  He was prompt. When she opened her door to him, he took one look at her and his eyes widened with appreciation. “Hi,” he said, and whistled softly. She had chosen to wear a short-sleeve ankle-length summer dress in a pastel floral print. It was one of the most demure outfits she owned.

  “Hi.” She had never been shy around men, but she felt shy now. Her eyelashes fell, fanning her cheekbones.

  “Have you thought about me as much as I have you?” he asked, his words low and raw.

  She wouldn’t have admitted it if he hadn’t spoken first. All day Brent had been on her mind and in her heart. Earlier, too. From the moment he’d found her in the church, he’d dominated almost her every waking thought and ventured into her dreams, as well.

  “I’ve thought about you, too,” she admitted, afraid to let him know how much and so saying too little. She didn’t want to discount their attraction, nor did she want to build it out of proportion. This was all happening so fast.

  He slowly expelled his breath, reached for her and pulled her into his arms. It didn’t take him long to claim her mouth with his own. The kiss was infinitely tender and prolonged, as if this was a reward he’d been waiting to collect all day and he refused to be cheated by his own impatience.

  Her heart was spilling over with joy. Once more she experienced that incredible urge to weep, but she fought it. Tears made you weak. Tears made you vulnerable and were to be avoided at all costs.

  “Mom and Dad are eager to get to know you,” he said as he escorted her outside.

  “If you’re telling me this to make me feel less nervous, try something else, all right?”

  He chuckled. “It’s the first time I’ve ever brought a woman to meet my parents.”

  “Knowing that doesn’t help, either, Brent,” she told him, her teeth clenched.

  He chuckled again. “At one time you infuriated me more than any woman I’ve ever known,” he said as he eased the car into the heavy flow of traffic.

  “That I can deal with,” she announced, then relaxed and smiled at him. “I’m accustomed to irritating others. I guess that’s why I’m so good at it.”

  “Mom found your picture in the yearbook.”

  Her spine went ramrod straight. Not the yearbook! Anything but the yearbook! She’d dressed in the most outrageous way possible when she’d posed for her senior photo. And then there were the candids….

  Remembering, she groaned. “Please don’t tell me your mother found the picture of me streaking at the football game last October.”

  “That’s the one she liked best.”

  She groaned more loudly.

  “You had on flesh-colored underwear beneath the trench coat.” It was true, despite the rumors that she’d been in the buff.

  “Take me home. Just turn around and take me home.” No one needed to tell her how this evening would go. No mother would want her son to date someone like her—the someone she’d once been.

  Her demand appeared to amuse him.

  “Brent, I’m serious.”

  “I know you are,” he returned calmly. “But there’s no reason to worry.”

  She didn’t believe that for a moment.

  “My mother looked at the photo, and after her initial shock, she told me…” He paused.

  “Told you you’re a fool to so much as talk to me.”

  “No,” he returned forcefully. “She laughed and confessed to appreciating your individuality and grit. She knew about the incident.”

  “So you told her about me way back last fall.”

  “Just what you’d done. As I recall, I was rather put out about it myself. I thought it was just plain stupid.”

  “It was.” She would be the first one to admit that now.

  “My mother said anyone who would do something that bold is…”

  “Nuts,” Maddie supplied.

  “Brave, I believe was her word.”

  “But not the type of girl a mother is anxious to have her son date.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “On the contrary. My mother is a very special woman. It didn’t take her long to see past that bad-girl act of yours.”

  “Brent, I’m nervous.” The woman who’d raced across a football field in front of the marching band wearing little more than a trench coat was afraid of meeting a preacher’s wife.

  “Don’t be.”

  * * *

  As it turned out, he was right. The dinner, the evening, everything was perfect. Brent’s parents were gracious and warm. In retrospect, it made sense that they would be. They were the ones who’d shaped him into the person he was, weren’t they? Brent Holliday was by far the most amazing man she’d ever known. Honorable, kind and good.

  After dinner he took her to his apartment, which was above the garage. They sat at the kitchen table while their coffee was brewing, and at his insistence she worked through the quadratic quandary on a piece of paper. He watched and declared her brilliant. Then they sat side by side on the sofa, drinking espresso and listening to a Beatles CD, holding hands and frequently kissing. She couldn’t remember spending a more enjoyable evening.

  “Are you free tomorrow night?” he asked when he dropped her off at her apartment. Before she could tell him she was available every night, he kissed her, and then kissed her again.

  “I’m free,” she whispered, her eyes closed, her lips moist and slightly swollen from his kisses.

  “What about the night after that?”

  “Free.”

  “Good.” He eased away from her with a reluctance that made her heart sing. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  “Please.” She smiled and leaned against her open apartment door as he walked backward, taking small unwilling steps.

  She blew him a kiss, and he grinned and did the same. She didn’t close the door until he was completely out of sight. Then she raced to the window and stared down on the street, watching till his car turned the corner and was gone. Never had she felt so giddy or so young. Like being fiftee
n all over again. In love, truly in love, for the first time in her life.

  She walked around her apartment as if in a dream. None of this seemed possible. Only a few days earlier she’d been in a pit of despair, certain life had done her wrong. Now she was so happy it was almost frightening.

  The test that proved she’d solved the quadratic quandary didn’t seem important any longer. John Theda was a fraud, and sooner or later others would learn that, too. Still, she fully intended on setting the record straight. If he got away with doing this to her, he might try it again with another student. He might use another unsuspecting female student the way he had her, and she couldn’t allow that to happen.

  First thing in the morning she would contact Dean Williams. Brent had talked it over with her that evening and was in full agreement. He felt strongly that now that she had the proof she needed, she should use it.

  She smiled as she recalled his reaction to her showing him the solution to the quandratic quandary. Not only had he claimed she was brilliant, but he’d talked about her future and all the things she could do, growing more excited and animated by the moment. She had laughed off his praise, embarrassed by it. The only way to stop him had been to kiss him, and so she had, again and again, loving him for believing in her, for encouraging her to be all she could be.

  The phone rang, and she looked at it, hesitating. It couldn’t be Brent—he wouldn’t be home yet. She hadn’t told him about John’s call earlier in the day. It would have alarmed him, and anyway, she could handle John.

  “Hello,” she said, her voice cool and even.

  “That was a touching little scene.”

  She squared her shoulders, though it made her shudder to think that he’d been out there watching her with Brent. “What do you want, John?”

  “You mean you haven’t figured it out?”

  “I told you this morning and I’ll say it again—don’t contact me. It won’t do you any good. I’m having my phone number changed first thing in the morning.”

  He laughed, and the sound was cold and heartless, sending chills down her spine. “You’re a fool. Don’t try to play games with me, Maddie. I’m the master, and you’ll only end up getting hurt.”

  “Goodbye, John.” She wasn’t waiting to listen to any more of his threats. She had the test in a safe place, and she wasn’t going to allow him to intimidate her.