THEY SHOWERED TO KEEP themselves awake and played in the spray until they had to make use of a second condom. Then exhaustion claimed them, and they decided to turn off the lights for a short nap. They promised themselves they wouldn’t sleep long, and Hugh guaranteed that by setting the alarm clock, although Kate tried to talk him out of it. She was beginning to feel guilty about all the sleep she’d stolen from him.
Minutes before the alarm would go off, Kate was jerked awake by Hugh flailing around and moaning in distress. Heart pounding, she scrambled to a sitting position. Then she realized he was having a nightmare.
She shook him gently, hoping that would be enough to ease him out of the bad dream. Even though they’d shared incredible sex, there were so many things she didn’t know about him, and listening in on his nightmare seemed like an invasion of privacy. She was uncomfortable, and she could bet he’d be embarrassed by his vulnerability. Better for him to shift dreams without waking up.
But he was deep into the nightmare and didn’t awaken. He called out a man’s name, drawing out the single syllable of what sounded like Joe. “No, oh, nooooo!” he cried. Then he shuddered, and the strangled sound coming from his throat was half groan, half sob.
Kate couldn’t bear to listen to him in such agony. So he’d be embarrassed. There were worse things—like terrible dreams that made him cry. Grabbing his shoulder, she shook him hard. “Hugh! Hugh, wake up!”
“What?” He bolted upright, wide awake. “What’s wrong?”
How tender he seemed at that moment, how desperately in need of comfort. She’d thought of him as such a tough guy, but maybe she’d been wrong. “You had a bad dream,” she said softly. Then she laid her hand against his cheek and discovered it was wet with tears. “A really bad dream.”
“Oh.” Instead of drawing her close and confiding in her, he pulled away and climbed out of bed. “Charming,” he said in a voice filled with disgust. “Sorry about that.”
His withdrawal hurt, but she could understand it. He was obviously very embarrassed. “Hugh, don’t apologize.” She tried to ease his discomfort. “Everybody has nightmares. It’s no big—”
“Damn it,” he muttered, cutting off her attempt to smooth things over by stalking toward the bathroom.
She felt very alone as she listened to him running water and splashing it on his face. Someone ought to put out a manual on how to conduct brief affairs, she thought forlornly. In an awkward situation like this, she wasn’t sure whether to follow him or leave him alone. She wanted to know about the nightmare that had seized him so strongly, but as a temporary lover, she hesitated to ask.
Eventually he came back into the bedroom. His heavy sigh wasn’t promising. “Kate, I’m sorry, but this isn’t working.”
She reeled from the finality of that statement. Even though she’d braced herself for a parting of the ways, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Sure, she’d called a halt before, but he’d taken it well and she’d known they could always pick up again at any time.
So she had picked it up, and he’d seemed very happy about that. Unconsciously she’d scripted a new ending to their story. After a weekend of mutual pleasure they would hug and have a last kiss. Then he’d walk away, and she’d stay behind, a brave smile on her face. Instead he seemed about to reject her before the weekend was over.
“Because of a nightmare?” She tried to make out his expression in the dim light.
“In a way.” He cleared his throat. “I thought I could be your hero, at least for the weekend, but it seems I’m not up to that. Somebody mixed up the cue cards on me.”
“I don’t understand.” Her insides felt like lead.
“Kate, you’re not the type for a weekend affair, and certainly not a weekend affair with a guy like me.”
“How can you say that after the way we…” She couldn’t find the courage to finish the sentence with make love and she refused to finish it with enjoy sex. They’d had more than sex, and he damned well knew it. She’d seen it in his eyes.
“That’s part of the problem,” he said gently. “You’ve cut through my defenses and stirred things up, things I’m finally starting to get control of.”
“Like nightmares?”
“Yes, that’s part of it. The point is, I can’t afford what you’re liable to cost me. And you shouldn’t be wasting yourself on a bum like me. I’m not a hero. I’m just a guy who does a good job of pretending to be one.”
Her throat tightened as tears threatened. She’d once thought the same thing about him, but now…now she wasn’t so sure about that. “What if I disagree with you?”
“It’s a free country, so you can disagree all you want. But I’m not going to give you the chance to find out how right I am.” He leaned down, picked up the clothes he’d left on the floor and began putting them on.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed so I can take a walk out by the harbor. That’ll give you space to…to…”
“Get the hell out of your cottage?” Anger came as a welcome relief from bitter disappointment.
“Kate, this is the best thing for both of us.” He sat in the chair and shoved his bare feet into his loafers. “Believe me.”
“Kindly speak for yourself and don’t be so worried about protecting me. I don’t think this is about me, after all. I think it’s about you, and that yellow streak running down the middle of your back.” Never mind that she’d been acting like a coward until Kim had pushed her into coming down here. She’d conquered her fears and decided to go for broke. She was furious with him for lacking the courage to do the same.
He grabbed his shirt and pulled it on, his movements jerky. “You’re right. I’m a coward. You need to find a guy with the guts to love you.” Then he left, buttoning his shirt on the way.
Love her? Who had been talking about love? Not her, that’s for sure. She’d only wanted sexual excitement, and he was letting a nightmare put a stop to that. But love? Once she’d recovered from her mistake in thinking Hugh was the hero she’d been waiting for, she’d never given love another thought.
Except there was that one moment tonight, when he’d been deep inside her and she’d looked into his eyes. Something had passed between them then, something significant. Something powerful.
But it hadn’t been love, she decided, climbing out of the bed and gathering her clothes. If he felt love for her, he wouldn’t have walked out like this. And if she felt love for him, then she wouldn’t have the urge to shake him until his teeth rattled.
She really didn’t know what to think. But one thing she did know—tomorrow would be a very long day.
HUGH DIDN’T RETURN to the cottage until dawn, and all the walking he’d done allowed him only a couple of hours of sleep. When he woke up, his sense of survival told him that he’d better throw himself into this wedding or he’d be a basket case by Sunday. Making a call to Harry, he invited his brother, Stuart and the groomsmen to hang out at the cottage for the day.
They all seemed happy to do that once they’d stocked the refrigerator with beer, ordered pizza and turned on Sports Center. Hugh invited Kate’s brother Nick, too, but he hoped Nick would turn him down. Fortunately Nick said that he and his dad were spending the day at Belcourt Castle checking out photo ops with the wedding photographer.
Hugh had a brief moment of pity for the poor guy Kim and Stuart had hired to shoot the wedding and reception. Working a wedding for a family of photographers had to be a nightmare. No matter what he did, they’d think of ways he could have done it better. Hugh wondered if Kate would be able to resist smuggling her little thirty-five millimeter into the wedding. He’d bet his Corvette she’d have it concealed on her somewhere.
Mostly Hugh tried not to think about Kate, which was why he’d surrounded himself with a bunch of noisy guys. His strategy worked for most of the day as he joked with Harry and Stuart and got to know the groomsmen. Before meeting Kate at the airport, this was exactly the kind of scene he’d imagined wh
en he’d planned to attend the wedding, and he definitely was enjoying himself. Sure he was. Five whole minutes at a time would go by in which he didn’t think about Kate.
Then Harry found the third, unused condom that Hugh had forgotten was still lying on the nightstand.
Hugh supposed he should have been grateful that Harry didn’t announce his find to the entire group of guys. Instead he pocketed the condom and waited until Hugh went into the kitchen area to score another beer. Then Harry followed him.
When Hugh asked his brother if he wanted another beer, too, Harry took out the condom and tossed it on the counter. “Look what I found.”
“Shit.” Hugh grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket as he glanced back into the living room. The guys remained glued to the tube. No one had seen anything. “I forgot about that.”
Harry kept his voice low, and the baseball game on the wide-screen TV covered his comments. “Y’know, normally I would stay totally out this, but now that I’m getting to know the Coopers, I can’t.”
Hugh’s fingers tightened around the cold beer can as he gazed at his brother. “Sure, you can. There’s nothing for you to worry about, bro.”
“Isn’t there? In your life, these little square packages don’t travel solo. I’m guessing there used to be more, and this is the leftover one. So you spent last night playing horizontal hopscotch. Am I right?”
Hugh could kick himself for not remembering to put away the condom. Popping open the beer, he took a swallow to buy some time. He couldn’t lie to Harry, not even if he wanted to. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny,” he said at last.
“Oh, don’t give me that West Wing jargon. We both know what’s going on and who it’s going on with. Just tell me if you’re planning to finish what you start, or if you’re going to ride off into the sunset, like usual.”
Technically, Harry was older—by a minute—and Hugh couldn’t believe how that one minute seemed to make a difference in their personalities. “Sometimes you carry this older brother business too far.”
“Or not far enough. I tried to tell you this last night. We both need to wake up before it’s too late. Don’t blow this. For your sake as much as hers.”
Hugh lowered his voice even more. “I am thinking of her, damn it. That’s why I sent her away this morning.” It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he believed in the rightness of it.
Harry groaned and gently banged his head several times against the refrigerator door. “You’re hopeless.”
Hugh bristled. “I don’t see you with a happily-ever-after girl on your arm, either, stud.”
“I said I’m working on that. I’m looking. One thing I’m not doing is sending the perfect woman away when she shows up.”
Hugh looked at the beer can in his hand and knew if he gripped it any tighter he’d dent the aluminum. He relaxed his hold. “How many times do I have to say this? She doesn’t want a stuntman from Hollywood.”
“How do you know?” Harry sent him a challenging look. “Have you asked her?”
13
THE FRANTIC PACE OF THE wedding day was both a blessing and a curse for Kate—a blessing because she was too busy to think about Hugh and a curse because she wanted to crawl away by herself and lick her wounds. That wouldn’t be possible until the weekend was over.
She’d discovered her sister and friends were asleep by the time she’d returned to the room in the early morning. She’d spent hours staring into the darkness, while the others had overslept. It was fortunate for her because that made the schedule so tight no one had time to quiz Kate about her adventure with Hugh.
The bridal party was barely awake by the time Kim’s favorite hairdresser arrived at the Townsend House to create hairstyles for everyone. The challenge turned out to be Kate, because the flowered head-pieces required a certain amount of hair and hers was too short to make it look right. In the end, Kate’s mother tracked down a beauty shop near the harbor that provided a crown of fake curls that closely matched Kate’s hair.
The two rooms occupied by the bride looked like a tornado had passed through it. Kim and her bridesmaids had created a maze of ironing boards, makeup cases and sandwich wrappers. The sandwiches had been ordered from the same sub place where Kate had bought dinner to take back to the cottage Friday night.
Despite the frenzy around her, she had moments when thoughts of Hugh would override everything, and she’d wonder how he was spending his day. Then Harry called to ask when the flowers were supposed to arrive, and that’s how Kate learned that Hugh was hosting a pizza and beer party for the guys down at the cottage.
It sounded way too jolly to suit Kate, considering the moody person who had stomped out of the cottage early that morning. It looked as if Hugh was one of those guys who wasn’t very in touch with his feelings. So what else was new?
Kate vowed to put him out of her mind completely. Besides helping Kim get beautiful for the big moment, she dashed around taking candid shots of the preparations. Yes, there would be formal pictures arranged by the wedding photographer, even informal ones taken at the reception. But Kate knew the kind of memories she wanted to capture for her sister, and her trusty little camera was going everywhere with her today. Besides, concentrating on photography turned out to be the best way to forget about the rat from Hollywood.
About thirty minutes before they were scheduled to leave the Townsend House for Belcourt Castle, Ruth’s sister, Andrea, arrived with Gillian, the flower girl. From the moment Gillian dashed into the room, Kate knew why Andrea had waited until the last minute to bring her. She was a whirlwind of activity in a room that didn’t need an ounce more of confusion.
She had a small bandage around her ankle under the lace-trimmed socks she wore, but that was the only evidence that she’d sprained her ankle the day before. A slight injury wasn’t keeping this girl out of the lineup, and Kate smiled, remembering how impatient she’d always been with any restraint on her freedom.
Gillian didn’t want to sit still long enough to have a little makeup applied to her skinned nose, let alone have her black curls arranged by the hairdresser. Kate decided to amuse her by taking countless pictures during the process.
“So many pictures!” Gillian laughed, her dimples flashing. But she obviously loved being the one constantly in Kate’s viewfinder.
“Can you say modeling career?” Ruth murmured to Andrea.
“Not docile enough,” Andrea, also a dark-haired beauty, murmured back.
“What’s docile?” Gillian wiggled on the chair while the hairdresser struggled to attach a wreath of flowers to her head.
“It means quiet,” Kate said as she moved around the beautiful child, snapping away. She’d always felt a connection with this vibrant kid, but even more so today. Half a roll of film later, she figured out why. Gillian’s blue eyes and black hair reminded her of Hugh. If he had a little girl she might look very much like this one.
“I hate being quiet,” Gillian said.
“Don’t we know it,” Andrea said.
“Well, nobody has to be quiet in this room,” Kim said. She stood nearby while her mother carefully powdered her nose so as not to get any on the vintage white lace.
Kate took a quick shot of that. For a casual person who usually cared little about how she looked, Kim made an amazingly regal bride. During the reception she might kick off her shoes and rub off most of the makeup her mother had carefully applied, but for the moment, she’d been transformed into a goddess. Kate blinked away proud tears.
“Do I gotta be quiet in the church?” Gillian asked.
Kim glanced at her. “Belcourt isn’t exactly a ch—”
“Close enough,” Andrea said. “And Gillian understands that we all have to be very, very quiet in church, don’t we, Gillian?”
“I understand, but I hate that.”
“The wedding will be over before you know it,” Kate told her. “Then we’ll have the party, and I promise lots of guys will want to dance with you.” Si
lly as the idea was, she’d decided to make sure that Hugh danced with Gillian at least once. Kate would be nearby, with her camera. Food for her fantasies. The way things were going, she’d have to live on them for a long time.
“Dancing!” Gillian threw her arms in the air and the hairdresser had to duck to keep from getting socked in the face. “Dancing’s cool!”
“She’s precious,” Emily Cooper murmured, longing in her voice.
Kate swallowed a lump in her throat. Lack of sleep and the pressure of her sister’s wedding must be making her weepy. The longer she looked at Gillian, the more she imagined what it would be like to have a child of her own some day.
She’d never considered it before. She’d been quite willing to let Kim and Stuart produce grandchildren for her mom and dad to spoil. In her view, the biological clock concept was a Madison Avenue plot to sell diapers and strollers.
Apparently not entirely. If Gillian hadn’t been dressed in a frothy lace dress and recently had her hair meticulously styled, Kate would have scooped her up and given her a bear hug. She’d never felt such a strong urge before. Maybe after the wedding it would go away. She hoped so, because, unlike Kim, she had no groom in sight.
At last everyone was ready to go.
“Even Kate!” Bette teased.
“I promised, didn’t I?” She’d surprised herself by not feeling the need to add excitement to the event by dawdling and then having to rush. Funny, but ever since meeting Hugh, she’d lost the desire to do that. With Hugh around, her life had plenty of drama.
By the time the bride and her entourage ventured downstairs, Stuart, his family, and the groomsmen had already left the Townsend House. Outside, a white stretch limo waited at the curb. Emily and John had hired the sleek vehicle, over Kim’s protests, to transport the bridal party to Belcourt Castle.
Although Kim thought the limo was a waste of money, Kate loved the concept and had convinced Kim to go along. Kate suspected that their parents felt a little guilty about not being around for the work of planning the wedding. After the scrimping she and Kim had done to put on this first-rate wedding in a month’s time, Kate thought they deserved a ride in a limo.
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