Her Best Friend’s Wedding

by Abby Gaines

  “Don’t go in there,” she said.

  He paused. Then his expression cooled. “You have a guest. Meg said you were going out on a date last night.”

  Sadie shook her head. “I sent my date home. Daniel’s in there.”

  Thunder overtook Trey’s face.

  “With Meg, you idiot,” Sadie snapped.

  “Right.” He smacked his forehead, which saved her doing it for him. “And they’re…” He raised his eyebrows.

  She nodded. “I could hear…so I came outside.”

  He gave her a searching look. She blanked her face in response, and when he shrugged, she figured she’d done a good job.

  “Doesn’t bother me,” he said, “so long as I don’t have to watch.” He put one hand on the door handle. Then released it. Came back to Sadie.

  Sadie tilted her head in inquiry.

  “Yeah, okay, it does bother me.” He leaned against one of the painted brick pillars. “So what do we do now?”

  “I’ll wait, and you can go home,” she said. “What are you doing here, anyway? Why is my porch a dumping ground for dying Griselinia?”

  “Those shrubs are one hundred percent healthy, and they’d better stay that way,” he said. “I figured you’d need something nice to look out on while I work on your garden.”

  “While you what?” She winced.

  “Are you suffering?” he asked with interest.

  She shook her head, then put both hands to it in an attempt to stop the porch spinning around. “Did you say something about my garden, or was that a nightmare?”

  “Dream come true, more like.” He grinned. “I’m going to fix your garden.”

  “You’re not.”

  “No need to thank me,” he said. “Mom’s asked me to wait until after the wedding to leave town, and Eugene’s taken over at work. I have plenty of free time.”

  “I don’t want you in my garden. I can do it myself.”

  “You’re kryptonite to plants. And you’re devious as hell when it comes to wrecking my sister’s engagement.”

  She flinched.

  “This way we get the best of both worlds,” he said smoothly. “I keep tabs on you, you get a great garden—you can tell your parents you did it yourself, if you like.”

  “No,” she said.

  “I might have known you’d be difficult.” He eyed her chest. “Are you warm enough?”

  Sadie folded her arms and resisted the urge to look down. “I’m fine,” she lied.

  “You’re looking seriously haggard,” Trey said.

  She snapped her teeth together. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  He took that as another invitation to scan her figure. “I guess that’s why your pj’s don’t match.”

  Sadie glanced downward and groaned. A chocolate-brown stretch cotton camisole teamed with sky-blue-cotton girl boxers.

  “Let’s go find coffee,” he said. “We’ll hit the drive-through, so you don’t scare any small children with those red eyes.”

  Her headache craved caffeine. “I’m not dressed.”

  “That could pass for workout gear,” he said doubtfully. “Besides, we won’t get out of the truck.” He pulled keys from his pocket, jangled them at her. “Come on.”

  Warmth and coffee, or freezing on the porch all too aware of what was going on inside?

  “I’m worried that if I agree to coffee, you’ll think I’m agreeing to you working on my garden,” she said.

  “I’m a modern male. I know you’re permitted to set as many different boundaries as you like, however illogical they may seem, and change them at any time.”

  She smiled, and felt marginally better. “I’m also worried I might throw up.”

  He paled. “If you throw up, I get to do your garden.”

  “I won’t throw up,” she vowed, and headed for the truck.

  Trey turned the heater up full blast before he reversed out of her driveway. Sadie cupped her hands over the air vent; she hadn’t realized how cold she was. She curled her legs on the seat, feeling less exposed that way.

  The drive-through line at the Mean Beans on Macon was long enough to suggest that by the time they got home, it should be safe for Sadie to go back into her own house.

  “How come you’re up so early now that you’re not working?” she asked Trey.

  He inched forward behind a car packed with a mom and her kids. “A habit I can’t shake. When I took over the business I had so much to learn, I needed every hour I could carve out of the day.”

  She frowned. “You were very young.”

  “Twenty,” he said dismissively, as if that wasn’t way too young to become the main breadwinner for his family. He buzzed down his window so they could order.

  “Just a regular coffee,” she said in response to his querying glance.

  Trey ordered two coffees with cream and sugar. He passed the molded paper tray over to Sadie and they exited the drive-through.

  Unable to wait for caffeine relief, she poured two sachets of sugar through the hole in the lid of one cup and poked the stirrer through. Then took a cautious sip of her coffee. Oh, yeah.

  “Good?” Trey asked, amused, and she realized she’d mewled with enjoyment.

  “Not the best I ever had,” she said, unwilling to feed his ego by admitting he chose good coffee.

  A pause.

  “How was the guy you dated last night?”

  Not the best I ever had. “Very nice.”

  “Did you invite him in?”

  “I’m not that kind of girl.”

  He slid a glance at her legs. “Is that right?”

  Sadie returned the scrutiny, though she stuck to the above-the-shoulder region. From this aspect, Trey looked more like his brother, or at least the way she remembered Logan, than he did from the front. But Trey’s jaw was more defined. Stronger.

  He swung a right and pulled into a nearly empty parking lot.

  Sadie read the sign on the yellow-and-green building. “Ferg’s Flora?”

  “Terrible name,” Trey said. “Good firm.”

  “Competitors of yours?”

  “Peripherally,” he said. “Their landscape-design division is a much bigger chunk of the company than it is for us.”

  “Is that something you want to expand at Kincaid’s?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not up to me anymore.”

  “Surely you’re still setting strategy, even if you’re not involved day to day.”

  “Landscape design adds value, and that’s good,” he conceded. “It’s hard to differentiate from the competition on plants. With the exception of a few exclusive agreements I’ve negotiated, we all have access to the same stock.”

  “And you happen to have an affinity with landscape design,” she said.

  He grunted. “I’m a businessman—I look at the bottom line.” He removed the lid from his coffee and drank. “Logan and my dad were the gardeners.”

  “Yet you want to create a garden for me,” she observed.

  “Only because it’s a crime to leave it the way it is. How do you feel about liquidambar?”

  “I love it,” she said. It was one of her favorite trees.

  “Forsythia?”

  “Beautiful. But if you’re thinking about my place, forget it. I want an English-style cottage garden. I’m thinking lavender, roses, daffodils. All of which happen to be hard to kill.”

  He didn’t look impressed.

  “I don’t care what you think,” she said. “I’m doing my garden, not you.” She sipped her coffee, only to have a couple of drops land on her camisole.

  Sadie rubbed at them with her finger.

  “Do you wander around in those pj’s in front of Daniel?” Trey asked. “Luring him?”

  Her instinct was to make a smart retort staking her claim to Daniel.

  Maybe it was her headache, but she didn’t have the energy.

  Carefully she set her cup in the cup holder in the center console. She tipped her head back against
the seat. “Flattered though I am that you think I could lure him, I don’t think it’s going to happen.”

  There was silence while Trey put the lid back on his cup, then slipped it into the holder next to hers.

  “So what are you saying?” He stared straight ahead. “You’re giving up on Daniel?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe.” Feeling dizzier than she had since she woke up, she unfolded her legs and planted her feet firmly on the floor of the truck. She took a leaf out of his book and stared through the windshield. “Last night Daniel seemed jealous of my date.”

  Trey made an inarticulate sound.

  “But this morning he and Meg…”

  “Right,” he said. “Hard to imagine you’d still be interested in Daniel when you’ve heard him making love to Meg.”

  Automatically she sprang to Daniel’s defense. “I don’t expect him to be a virgin. I’m not one myself.”

  “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

  “I’m not sure I want to keep feeling this way,” she said. “Especially if there’s no chance I can win.”

  Trey nodded. “What happened to I can’t let go of something I think is meant to be?”

  He was repeating her words back to her.

  Sadie swallowed a pang of regret. “I thought you’d be the first person to encourage me to give up.”

  “Strange,” he agreed. “I guess I’ve got used to thinking you’re a fighter. But knowing when to concede defeat can be just as important as knowing when to fight.”

  Sadie shivered. She turned up the heat on her side of the cab.

  Trey twisted in his seat, and she thought he was going to move across and pull her into his arms. Warmth. Strength. Comfort. Some of her tension yielded.

  Trey turned the key in the ignition and the truck engine roared. He hit the gas.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  TREY WAS RIGHT. It was important to know when you were beaten. Flogging a dead horse would inevitably get depressing. Far better to move on. Even if it took a while.

  By the time Trey turned the truck into Sadie’s driveway, she’d almost convinced herself she’d given up on Daniel, and she felt better for it already. Lighter.

  “You think it’s safe to go in?” she quipped.

  “I’ll come with you.” He sounded serious.

  “No need,” she assured him. “I’m fine.”

  He followed her up the path. Sadie pushed the front door open and stepped inside, Trey right behind her.

  Blessed silence.

  Sadie’s shoulders relaxed. She even smiled. “See what I mean?”

  A high-pitched, gasping cry floated down the hallway.

  Her smile froze.

  “For Pete’s sake, they’re still at it.” Trey winced as the sound came again. “How can you stand to hear this every day?”

  “Earplugs,” she said cheerily. “Marvelous invention.” Keep it light. Don’t admit to him—don’t admit to myself—that this is torture.

  “This is torture,” Trey said, startling her.

  “At the very least, it’s rude,” she said. “This is my house.”

  His eyes narrowed. “So you’re objecting to their manners. Nothing else?”

  “Do you know, I didn’t kiss my date last night because I didn’t want to be unfaithful to Daniel. What a waste!” Her laugh came out brittle.

  “I’ll go tell them to stop.” He took a step away from her, but she grabbed his arm. “Trey, no.”

  He turned back, looked down at her hand. Sadie sensed the latent strength beneath the warmth of his skin.

  “Trey—” her heart beat faster “—would you mind if I kissed you?”

  He jolted, but not so much that he broke free of her.

  Sadie took a step closer, looked hard at his face. Made sure she knew what she was doing. That this was Trey, not Daniel.

  “Why?” he asked. His voice was casual.

  Somehow that made it easier for her to say, “I want to stop thinking. I want to get caught up in the moment.” She wanted to let go of love and hurt and futile hope. “And you’re a good kisser.”

  He didn’t answer, but she went up on tiptoe anyway, and, eyes open, pressed her lips to Trey’s.

  A kiss. Kiss me.

  For one second he didn’t move. Then she pressed harder and before she could blink, his arms clamped around her. His mouth was on hers, hot and hungry.

  This was exactly what she needed. Sadie met his tongue—seeking, coaxing, tempting—and melded against him. And thought only of this.

  His hands slid down the sides of her breasts to her waist, and her body flamed. Then lower to her butt, where his hands curled around her cheeks, cupping them.

  Sadie groaned as he tugged her against him. It was immediately clear he wanted her. This kiss wasn’t just pity.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck like a sex-starved octopus, buried her fingers in his hair. One of his hands moved up, beneath her camisole, and splayed against the bare skin of her back. Branding her.

  As she pulled him toward the couch, she stumbled against the side table and knocked a lamp to the floor. Sadie didn’t care. She launched herself at Trey, and he went down on the couch with an “Oof.”

  The couch made a loud scraping sound as it moved several inches across the floorboards.

  The noise jolted Sadie into reality. The reality being that she was lying on her couch on top of Trey, and if they didn’t stop now, one or both of them would soon be naked.

  “Sadie?” His hand threaded through her hair, found the back of her neck.

  She shivered into the caress. “I guess that was our kiss.”

  “I don’t think we’re done.” Trey’s eyes were fixed on her cleavage. One finger hooked the front of her camisole, improving his view. He gave a low growl that curled right through her.

  “Really, Trey, we should stop.” She tried to lever herself off him, but his arm clamped across her back.

  “You’re talking too much,” he breathed against her mouth, and it was as if he’d fanned a flame. Her senses ignited, melting her limbs against him. She sank down, pressed her lips to his again.

  He let her explore his torso with her hands for all of one minute. Then he flipped her over…or rather he attempted to. Wanting to stay on top, Sadie resisted. As a result, they both rolled off the couch onto the floor.

  Trey cursed. Then he laughed, a rich, deep sound.

  Sadie, who’d landed underneath, slapped his shoulder. “I’m the one getting carpet burn in the small of my back.” Her cami seemed to have ridden halfway up. “What have you got to curse about?”

  “Nothing at all.” He nuzzled her neck.

  “Get off me.” She shoved his shoulders. His immovable shoulders.

  “I’m enjoying the view,” he said. She gathered he was seeing by touch, the way his hands were moving.

  Sadie shivered. “Cheap thrill?”

  “Sadly, no.” He nipped at her bottom lip. “I think I put my back out wrestling your enormous bulk. The physical therapy alone will cost me— Ow!”

  She’d slapped him again.

  “Sadie!” A voice exclaimed above them.

  Meg.

  Sadie had forgotten all about Meg and Daniel. Which had been the aim of the exercise. As memory flooded back, she gave Trey another shove, and this time he moved.

  “Sadie?” Meg said again. “You and Trey?”

  “No!” Sadie scrambled to sit up, then realized her pj top was gaping at both ends. She tugged it into place. “Nothing’s going on.”

  “These walls are paper-thin,” Meg warned her.

  “Yeah,” Trey said. “They are, sis.”

  Meg frowned, then colored. “Ugh, you’re my brother and you were listening?”

  “Sadie and I had to go to some lengths to block out the sound,” he said.

  Meg eyed the space they’d vacated on the floor. “That’s extreme. Next time, just knock on the door.”

  “Next time, be more considerate of Sadie,” Trey
told her.

  Sadie took advantage of their squabble to finger-comb her hair. She wasn’t sure of the protocol in a situation like this. Should she offer everyone breakfast?

  Daniel came into the living room. Meg broke off her argument with Trey.

  “Daniel, guess what? I just caught these two making out on—” She stopped. “Honey? Are you okay?”

  Daniel was holding his cell phone. He looked dazed. More than just too-much-red-wine dazed.

  “Daniel?” Sadie prompted.

  “My father called,” he said. “Mom’s had a heart attack.”

  TREY DROVE THEM ALL to Memphis St. Ignatius Hospital, where Angela Wilson was undergoing cardiac surgery.

  “The doctors here are the best,” Daniel said as they jogged from the parking lot toward the main entrance. He sounded as if he was reassuring himself. Not doing a great job of it, going by his pale, set expression.

  “She’s in good hands,” Trey agreed.

  “She’s fit,” Daniel continued. “She has a healthy diet. Maybe she has a little bit of stress, but nothing drastic.”

  Sadie remembered Angela mentioning at the dress fitting that Daniel’s engagement announcement had been a strain on her heart. “It’s probably just one of those things,” she said.

  Meg made a muffled, worried sound.

  They reached the entrance, two sets of automatic doors flanking a revolving door.

  “I left my purse in the truck,” Meg said.

  Daniel sent her an uncomprehending look.

  “Give me the keys, Trey. I’ll be right back.” She took the keys from her brother and trotted away.

  They were directed to a waiting room on the third floor, where John Wilson, Daniel’s father, waited. Daniel embraced his dad.

  “No news yet,” the senior Dr. Wilson said.

  Daniel nodded. “It’ll be at least another hour, I guess. You guys don’t need to wait,” he told Sadie and Trey. “I appreciate the ride.”

  “I’ll stick around till Meg gets back,” Sadie said.

  “Me, too,” Trey said.

  Ten minutes later Daniel’s phone beeped.

  “It’s a message from Meg.” He pressed to read it. “She’s been called to the airport. Emergency fill-in.” He stared at his phone, confused.

  Trey’s glance intercepted Sadie’s.