She was glad to be on the aisle so she could see Claire’s approach once the music started. She was sure she’d be stunning in her bridal gown.
Someone tugged her hair and she turned, annoyed. Her brothers were forever messing with her hair. Like she was their little pet.
“Hey, shortstack,” Ty said with a grin, standing in the aisle behind her, “heard Santa fell off the roof and broke his neck, so don’t expect anything this year.”
Park elbowed him and shook his head. He wore a navy blue suit, standing tall, shoulders back as though he were in his formal Air Force uniform. Gorgeous. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Did he notice anything different about her?
“Ha-ha,” she returned. Ty always used to tease her as a kid, telling her Santa got in some kind of accident that would prevent him from showing on Christmas. She used to get really mad and yell at him, rushing to her dad for reassurance. Loser.
“Hello, ladies,” Ty said, addressing her friends. Park raised a hand in greeting.
“Hi, guys,” her friends chorused.
Park and Ty settled behind her. She faced front, a little disappointed that Park’s eyes didn’t travel any further than her face. Did he notice her eyes were accentuated with mascara? That she wore blush and rose lipstick and who knew what else Hailey had applied. It was all a blur of potions. She swore under her breath. She’d be really pissed if she went through all this effort and he didn’t notice anything at all. She tried not to fidget as she heard Ty behind her, talking about his latest movie that had him in a car-chase scene, jumping onto the roof of a moving car and running down it. She didn’t worry about him. He was well trained and agile as a cat. Then she heard him say, “If you can’t find any work with the airlines, maybe you could come out to LA. I could get you some stunt work.”
She stiffened. No. Park was not cut out for stunt work. He was slow and methodical, not agile and quick. Besides, she’d just got him back in Connecticut. He couldn’t just up and leave so soon.
“Maybe,” Park said. “I’ll let you know.”
“It’s fun,” Ty said. “And it pays well.”
She turned. “He doesn’t know how to do stunts.”
“I’ll train him,” Ty said. “Mind your own beeswax. This is a private conversation.”
Park stared at her, seeming to notice she was made up for the first time. His gaze tracked from her eyes, down her nose, across her cheek, to her hair, back to her mouth and then her neck. She held her breath. He finally met her eyes again. “You don’t look like yourself.”
She waited for the compliment.
None came.
Just a slow blink from Park and then he turned back to Ty.
It felt like a fist wrapped around her heart and squeezed. She quickly turned to face front. She took a deep breath, reaching for her calm center. She didn’t want to snarl at him. She wanted to—ugh! Clueless man! She wanted to shake him! All this work for a slow blink! She could barely focus on whatever Charlotte was saying about the latest workout technique with a swing even though she normally loved to talk fitness and getting strong. She tugged the hem of her dress down a bit. Okay, wait, he hadn’t gotten the full effect of her standing in the dress. The reception was where the magic would happen. She slid her ice-cold fingers under her legs.
The seats filled in, and when the music started, they turned as one to see Hailey walking down the aisle, looking like a beautiful princess, smiling as though she enjoyed being the center of attention. And then came Claire in a stunning gown with a big poufy bottom like they’d all seen in Gone with the Wind, a previous book club selection. They’d watched the movie after reading the book. Claire’s dad walked her down the aisle. She knew the dress was custom made for Claire by some famous designer. Claire wore a veil over her face, but Mad could still make out her expression, smiling and confident. Jake stared hard, love shining in his eyes. An unexpected lump formed in her throat.
The officiant was local, a judge who’d been paid well to keep the wedding quiet. He led them in the vows and, when Jake said his part of the vow, silent tears leaked out of Claire’s eyes. And, for some stupid reason, Mad’s too. She sniffled and carefully wiped under her eyes, hoping she hadn’t ruined her makeup.
Josh stared at Hailey standing on the other side of Claire. Hailey stared at Jake, a pleasant expression pasted on her face as if she knew there would be pictures.
When Claire said her part of the vows, through tears that Jake brushed away gently with his thumbs, Mad lost it, a small sob escaping before more tears streamed down her face. Geez. She was going to ruin all of Hailey’s hard work on her face. It was just the first time she’d been at a wedding with two people she loved, and feeling the love between them at the same time was overwhelming.
A white handkerchief wiggled next to her shoulder. “Thanks,” she said over her shoulder and saw it was from Park.
He pressed his lips together, looking concerned. She knew he didn’t like it when she cried. She rarely did. But as a kid when she occasionally lost it, Park was always the one there for her, silently comforting her with a tissue or a sympathetic look. One time he gathered his allowance, a collection of quarters, and bought her a chocolate bar.
She wondered for a moment why Park carried a white handkerchief, figured it probably came with the suit, and wiped carefully under her eyes where she figured there would be smeared mascara. Nothing came off. Hailey smiled at her. She blinked a few times and smiled back. The woman had her back with the waterproof stuff.
She sniffled and held the handkerchief tightly in her hand. Park had always had her back too. How could she not love him?
The ceremony ended to applause as Jake and Claire kissed for the first time as husband and wife. Her friends whooped and whistled. She felt another sob threaten and looked to the ceiling. Tears spilled over her cheeks anyway. A warm hand gripped her shoulder and squeezed briefly. She knew without looking that it was Park. Ty was more likely to clap her on the back.
Claire and Jake ran down the small aisle, hand in hand, beaming.
She stood and watched them go, wiping her tears once more. She met Park’s sympathetic eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks for the handkerchief.”
“It was from your dad. He gave it to me to give to you.”
“Oh.”
Her dad had already moved down the aisle away from her.
“Guess I’ll thank him, then.” She felt like an idiot, reading so much into Park’s every move. She had to stop remembering the way he was in the past and try to see him for who he was now. It was only fair if that was what she wanted from him.
Hailey and Josh walked down the aisle together, a sharp contrast of Hailey’s sunny bright looks and Josh’s serious dark looks. Josh escorted her in a gentlemanly way, offering his arm. Their dad had drilled gentlemanly manners into all of her brothers. It took for some better than others. Hailey looked like she was walking in front of the judges at a beauty pageant, poised and controlled, a smile plastered on her face.
They all reconvened in the formal living room, where round tables held glasses of champagne for everyone. They toasted and drank champagne for a cocktail hour while they waited for the limos that would take them to the reception.
Hailey appeared at her side. “I saw you crying at the wedding, you softie.”
Mad adjusted the lace shawl more firmly around her. “It was Claire. The minute she started crying, I started crying. It’s contagious.”
“Lauren and Carrie were crying too,” Hailey said.
Mad glanced over at them, happy and drinking champagne now. “I feel a little better.”
“Park helped you out, though,” Hailey said with a smile.
“It was a handkerchief from my dad,” Mad said. “He was just the messenger.”
“Don’t you worry,” Hailey said in a voice of steel. “The night is young. I haven’t failed yet in my efforts.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who am I?”
Mad rolled her eyes and droned, “The love junkie.” It was on
her professional wedding planner business card.
“And what do I do?”
“Make love bloom,” Mad mumbled, glad Park was on the far side of the room with Ty.
“Correct!”
Mad snagged a flute of champagne and sipped, her gaze traveling back to Park. He held a full glass of champagne and didn’t sip. He might have the occasional beer with the guys, but he was rarely drunk. Except for the night he left. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been drunk that night? Would her life have been different if she’d had the chance to be with him? To express how she really felt about him? Would his life have been different? Probably not. He still would’ve been locked in to Air Force duty.
He caught her eye across the room and turned away.
“He keeps sneaking peeks at you,” Hailey said.
“He’s not,” Mad said. “He’s only looking at me because I’m looking at him.”
“What do you think, Char?” Hailey called, pulling Charlotte closer within earshot.
Charlotte’s brown eyes sparkled in anticipation of something fun with Hailey. “Huh? Think about what?”
“Is Park looking over at this hot thing?” Hailey said, tilting her head toward Mad.
Mad snorted and fought back the blush.
Charlotte made a big gesture of looking around the entire room before reporting back, tilting her head to make her long brown hair partially cover her face. “Yup.”
“What!” Mad exclaimed, her gaze darting back to Park. He was looking at Ty. “Stop messing with me. He is not.”
Charlotte smoothed her hair back from her face. “Just go over there.”
Mad was not prepared to make a move with Ty as witness.
Hailey put a stop to that line of thinking. “No. We have to separate him from the herd. She can’t flirt with her brothers as witnesses. Especially Ty. He’ll put her in a headlock or something. Geez. Your brothers are forever messing up your hair. Tell them to knock it off. It took hours to get this look.”
“No kidding,” Mad said. “You think they care?”
“We need a helmet around you with spikes,” Charlotte said.
“Yes, that’s attractive,” Hailey said with a rare sarcasm that had them cracking up.
“Happy Endings Book Club party,” a chauffer called.
“That’s us!” Hailey caroled, gesturing for them to follow.
They piled into the limo, where they passed around another bottle of champagne conveniently provided by Claire, not bothering with the plastic glasses. Mad took in her friends—Hailey, Charlotte, Lauren, Carrie, and Ally—and found herself smiling goofily.
“Okay,” Mad announced after taking a nice long swig of champagne. “You heard it here first. I’m heading out on the dance floor for a slow dance with Park. Step one in seduction.”
The women cheered.
Mad laughed and then hiccupped. “I need all of you out there with me so I don’t stick out. I’ve never danced before.”
“What do you mean you’ve never danced before?” Charlotte asked from across the limo. “Never? Not even at prom?”
“I went as Darth Vader to the prom,” Mad said solemnly.
The women stared and then burst out laughing.
“I remember you said that once,” Hailey said, taking the champagne bottle from Mad. “But you took the costume off at some point, right?”
Mad snorted. “Are you kidding? The guys loved it. We were all having light saber battles.”
“I’ll bet the girls loved having their dates hanging out with Darth Vader instead of them,” Charlotte said drily.
Mad had never thought about that. She’d just felt like a loser because no one asked her to the prom, so she went by herself in the only way that would make her feel comfortable—covered head to toe in black.
“Anyway,” Mad said, “no one wanted to ask the dark side to dance.”
“Oh, Mad,” her friends said in near unison notes of sympathy.
“I know,” Mad said. “Pathetic, right? That’s why I need you all around me, kind of circle me so no one notices my dorky moves.”
“You will not be dorky,” Hailey proclaimed. “You’ll simply put your arms around his neck and let him take the lead.”
“What if he doesn’t?” Mad asked.
Hailey rolled her eyes. “Then you’ll just stand there in each other’s arms. That’s not so bad, is it?”
Mad smiled widely. “That sounds awesome.”
“That’s step one,” Hailey said. “Step two is the flirt and retreat.”
“The what?” Mad asked.
“You’re going to touch him as much as possible,” Hailey said. “His arm, his shoulder, his hand, and ask him questions.”
“Won’t that be obvious?” Mad asked.
Hailey put her hand on Mad’s arm. “What do you mean?” She looked pointedly at her hand on Mad’s arm.
“Okay, I get it,” Mad said. “Ask lots of dumb questions and touch his arm.”
“Not dumb questions,” Charlotte said. “Just say stuff.”
“Like what?” Mad asked.
Charlotte waved a hand airily. “Like nice wedding. Great music. Whatever comes to mind.”
Hailey nodded. “And then you come back to us and give him some time to miss you. That’s the retreat.”
Mad went to take the champagne bottle back from Hailey, but she passed it across to Charlotte. Mad blew out a breath. “I had no idea this seduction stuff was so complicated.”
“What do you normally do?” Charlotte asked, taking a slug of champagne.
“Honestly?” Mad smirked as the women all leaned in. “I just tell a guy, usually after a softball game or a sparring match, that I’d like to get sweaty between the sheets.”
Lauren gasped. Ally and Carrie stared incredulously.
“That’ll work,” Charlotte said with a shrug.
“What do you do after?” Hailey asked.
Mad lifted one shoulder up and down. “I say thanks, that won’t be happening again and leave.”
The women stared. Like maybe that was weird or something.
“Park’s different though,” Mad said. “Special, you know?”
The women nodded solemnly.
Hailey gave her hand a squeeze. “We know. You’ll do great.” She tapped a pink fingernail against her pink lips. “Now who should all of you dance with?” She took in their friends and Mad just knew she was thinking long-term strategy for all the future matches she wanted to make. Like it or not, here comes love! Or at least a hookup. Mad would take either one at this point. She just had to get Park out of her system so she could stop obsessing over him, and if that led to something more, great. If not, she’d survive, stronger for having the courage to try.
Feeling pleased with her new philosophical outlook, she actually looked forward to the reception.
Chapter Eight
Park stood with Ty at the open bar at the wedding reception, waiting for a drink, both of their gazes on the group of women talking and laughing across the room, clustered close together the way women did. They were beautiful one and all, but most especially Mad. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her hair was smooth and soft looking, more like he remembered it from when she was younger. Her face lit up, glowing, and that body. He’d seen her in workout clothes, knew her petite curves, but that dress was something else. Form-fitting, showing her off in all the right places. A lacy black cover-up kept slipping off one smooth shoulder and she kept hitching it back up. It was driving him crazy. He wanted to rip the thing off her. He wanted to span his hands around her tiny waist and slide them over the curve of her hip.
He turned away, gut churning. The Campbells were family. The only real family he’d ever had. He owed his life to Joe Campbell, who’d taken him in, literally, moving Park into his already crowded household. Mr. Campbell offered to foster him, but Park’s mom wouldn’t sign off on it. She hit rock bottom six months after Park was rescued from the hellhole he called home and finally went into r
ehab for heroin addiction. When she got out again, she never asked for him back. He didn’t want to go back. She’d show up at school or one of his baseball games sometimes just to make sure he was still alive. The visits only sent him into a rage all over again. The feelings of abandonment and shame made him so angry he’d pick a fight with someone, usually someone older and bigger so he could really let loose. Mr. Campbell had put an end to that finally on Park’s twelfth birthday.
“You’re twelve now; that’s a big deal,” Mr. Campbell had said, sitting him down on the sofa in the living room after a small Campbell family birthday party that overwhelmed Park. His birthday with his single druggie mom had always been a painful reminder to her that she was getting older and nothing special for him. Mr. Campbell had sent the others outside, though Park suspected Mad was hiding somewhere eavesdropping. The nine-year-old twerp was forever hanging around the big kids.
Park sat up straighter on the sofa. “Yes, sir.”
Mr. Campbell leaned forward, elbows on his knees, from where he sat in his recliner chair. “This is a critical time for you to choose the path your life is gonna take. Are you gonna be a man who uses his fists when he can’t handle life or be a man who thinks first and takes action that will set him on a good path?”
Park didn’t reply. It was an obvious answer with a not-so-easy solution.
Mr. Campbell went on. “I don’t like all the fights you’re getting in. This is a destructive pattern, and I want it to stop.” His kind brown eyes met Park’s. “But you have to want that too.”
Park swallowed hard. He never wanted to disappoint Mr. Campbell. He always felt like he had to tread carefully in case Mr. Campbell changed his mind about him. “Yes, sir. I’ll try to do better.”
Mr. Campbell studied him for a long moment, taking his measure as a man, Park supposed. Park squared his shoulders, trying to be that man.
Inviting Trouble (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 2) Page 8