The Bridesmaid and the Bachelor

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The Bridesmaid and the Bachelor Page 3

by Kris Fletcher


  “Let me guess. She didn’t want to do the wedding but she didn’t have the nerve to tell Siobhan herself, so she guilted you into taking her place.”

  “No! It’s not—well, sort of. But it’s not that mercenary.”

  Between the plane and the dinner, she’d spent too much time sitting. Her butt was starting to ache. She eased out of her shoes and rose to her feet.

  “She came to Vegas. She flew out here Monday, to have a few days’ vacation before the wedding stuff began. Remember, she started that job the week that you and I . . . well . . . and anyway, things were too crazy for her to take any real time off last year, so she’s been going full tilt for a long stretch. So anyway, she came out here, and within an hour or two of landing, she met someone.”

  “And they hit it off?”

  “To put it mildly.”

  Kyrie could still hear the excitement in Paige’s voice when she called. Oh my God, Kyrie. Duncan is the most amazing guy. We talk and talk and talk and never run out of things to say. It’s like he knows what I want even before I do. He thinks that eighties’ music should be banned forever, and he laughs at my jokes and he’s so caring, you wouldn’t believe it . . .

  “The thing is, Duncan—that’s his name—is here on vacation from Scotland. He’s going home Saturday night, and by Wednesday—today is Thursday, right?—Paige knew that she wanted to spend every possible moment with him. But she didn’t want to mess things up for Siobhan, really, she didn’t. So she offered me a deal.” She twisted her hands together. “If I would step in for her and take her place in the wedding, she would totally forgive the loan.”

  “Holy—”

  “But the deal is, Siobhan can’t find out. Not even a suspicion, you know? Paige doesn’t want to hurt her. Truly. And no bride should have to deal with last-minute drama just because Bridesmaid Number Forty-Two is busy being swept off her feet.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. Heck of a point you have there.”

  “So that’s why I’m doing this. If I can pull this off, Paige gets to be with her guy, and Siobhan gets the wedding she wants, and I just might be able to keep Brews and Blues going. Win-win-win, right?”

  He didn’t seem to know what to say to that. She couldn’t blame him. Her own head was still swimming from it all, and she’d had a couple of days to process it. And now came the hardest part of all.

  She forced herself to face him, to step closer and look him in the eye—not so she could watch him, but so he could see her, read her face and know how much she needed him to help.

  “Ben.” She didn’t dare take the deep breath she longed for. Not when she was close enough to catch his scent. “I know this must seem awful to you, but I’m here, and if I can do this, Siobhan will never know. Can you help me? Can you please keep this just between us?”

  Long, silent seconds passed by, during which the only movement was the small tic of a muscle near his eye. She curled her hands into fists to stop herself from reaching up and smoothing it.

  “I don’t like it,” he said at last.

  “You want the truth? Neither do I.”

  This time he was the one to turn away, swiveling back to his place at the window, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Tell you what, Kyrie. I don’t want to hurt Siobhan, either, and I really don’t want anything to mess up Adam’s wedding. So I’ll play along.”

  Everything in her sagged in relief. She dropped onto the bed. “Thank you.”

  He swung back around. “But there’s a condition.”

  Oh crap. Did he expect her to sleep with him in return for his silence?

  Crap squared—she couldn’t quite pretend that the thought didn’t have a measure of appeal.

  “When we were at the lake, we had plans for our last night together. You took off and left me hanging. Why?”

  “That’s your condition?” Sex was looking better and better.

  “Yes ma’am. You tell me why you ran out on me after what I thought was a pretty amazing week. In return, I’ll help you keep your secret.”

  Yep. Sleeping with him again would be a lot easier. More fun, too.

  The truth was out of the question. Maybe if she’d been up front at the time, he could have understood. After all, neither of them were looking for a serious relationship back then, especially not with each other. A globe-trotting adventure seeker and a small-town homebody were never a good mix. Doubly so when he was getting ready to head out for two years of research and exploration. Maybe, given that, he would have believed her when she said she was afraid she was falling in love with him, that she had to take off in the daytime, while she had the strength to leave and while there was still enough light to drive despite the tears she knew would be falling.

  But to tell him now? Right. Not only would it sound pathetic, he probably wouldn’t believe a word of it. And could she blame him for that? Nope.

  And then there was the shame factor.

  She’d been so intent on getting away while she could that it had taken her days to realize what she had done. Not to Ben. No, that guilt had started hammering at her from the moment she had decided to flee. But the cost to herself—ah, that had been the kicker. She’d been unfair to Ben and she’d bought herself a heart full of lonely, and to top it off, she had given into an impulse to run. To take off when things got intense and scary instead of staying the course. Or, at the very least, being honest.

  Which was precisely what her father had done to her and the rest of the family.

  Yep, nothing like behaving exactly like the person who had hurt you most in the world to make a girl feel like maybe the guilt and loneliness were the least of what she deserved. To make her feel that the kindest thing she could do for the person she had hurt was to give him just enough of the facts to assure him he was in no danger of being hurt again.

  “I didn’t want to leave,” she said slowly. That, thank heaven, was the truth. “And I know I should have waited. But I . . .”

  “You what, Kyrie?”

  “I didn’t want to say good-bye,” she said at last. A hint of the truth would be her best bet. “I . . . You were right. It was an amazing week. I found myself wishing it didn’t have to end, and that was when I knew I had to go. Because if I had stayed another day . . . well, I wanted to go while I could still leave without . . . without getting all maudlin and weepy. I don’t do well with good-byes.”

  He leaned back, resting against the wall, eyes narrowed. Now she knew how it would feel to be in a petri dish.

  “As excuses go, that sucks.”

  “All the more reason why you can believe me. Who would make up something lame like that, right?” She forced out a lighthearted laugh. “I mean, I could have said, Oh, something happened at home, or I felt a cold coming on and didn’t want to pass it on to you, or . . . I don’t know. Alien abduction.”

  The slight quirk of his lips gave her hope. “I have no doubt there’s some kind of life elsewhere in the universe, but I’m sure they have far better things to do than hover over us and stick probes into our orifices.”

  “Good. I agree. So do we have a deal?”

  It took three cupcakes’ worth of discipline to stay still while he gave her what amounted to a visual lie-detector test and her heart pounded out the theme to Mission: Impossible.

  “Fine.” He shook his head, like he didn’t quite believe himself. “Deal.”

  She blinked, sure she’d heard him wrong. But there was no rush to take back the words or add another condition. Just Ben, looking slightly bemused but determined.

  “Thank you,” she said again. “This is very generous of you.”

  “I know,” he said, before crossing to the side of the bed and punching in a number. Her muscles went from at ease to stand and deliver in the blink of an eye.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Room service.” He
glanced her way with a hint of a smile. “If you’re going to make this work, you’ll need information. And if I’m going to give it to you, the least you can do is buy me a beer.”

  Chapter Three

  Kyrie was pretty sure it was only the fact that she was still operating on East Coast hours that got her to brunch on time the next morning despite a sleepless night. And only some of that could be blamed on Ben.

  True to his word, he had spent the next hour or so filling her in on everything she needed to know as a bridesmaid. She had met Siobhan a time or two herself, and had heard plenty about her and Adam from Paige, so she had hoped she could muddle through. Ben, however, had little stories like why they had chosen to have the wedding at the Bellagio (Siobhan had always dreamed of having her wedding pictures done in front of the fountains), where Adam had popped the question (on a camping trip—Kyrie was sure Ben was pulling her leg on that one), and the fact that Siobhan had something up her sleeve for the ceremony itself.

  “Adam doesn’t even know.” Ben had been sprawled on the bed at that point, back to the wall, one leg taking up the mattress and the other bent to support his beer-holding arm. He’d looked relaxed and loose and so utterly enticing that she wondered desperately if the gift shop sold superglue. She would need something along those lines to keep her hands at her sides this weekend. “All she’ll say is that it’s something great, and we’re going to love it, and it will be the highlight of the ceremony.”

  And then the talk had veered off to other areas—her struggles to get Brews and Blues up and operating, his tales of pain and torture with the physical therapist.They had started laughing. Before she knew it, it was two in the morning and they were both falling asleep in place and she knew that if she didn’t kick him out then and there, she would end up curling onto the bed beside him. Which would have been fine for sleeping.

  But at some point, they would have to wake up.

  She’d sent him on his way. Went to bed alone. And found that virtue and resolution weren’t nearly as fun to sleep with as Ben was.

  So was it any wonder that when Siobhan sat beside her at brunch, she was almost too tired to panic?

  “Hey.” Siobhan smiled as she set her tray on the table. “You alive yet?”

  “Barely. I’m afraid I’ll just get used to the time difference when I have to head home.”

  “Yeah, that one’s the killer. I’m kind of glad Hawaii is in the other direction.”

  Hawaii. Honeymoon. Right. Kyrie had been surprised when Ben said that was where they were going—she had thought the new thing was a European river cruise, or an African photo safari—but it turned out Siobhan’s parents had honeymooned there, and Adam had never been. Given Siobhan’s love of all things throwback, it made sense.

  “Is everything coming together okay?” Despite how well she’d been primed, Kyrie didn’t want to get into anything personal with Siobhan. Mutual commiserating over a florist would be easy to pull off. Catching up on shared friends and old memories, not so much, especially when half of her brain was asleep and the other half was wondering what would happen if she told Ben how much she’d thought about him since the lake.

  “So far, so good. Wendy has everything under control.”

  Wendy? Oh, right. The wedding planner. She glanced across the room, found Ben, and sent him an unseen smile of thanks.

  “But I’ll feel a lot better once everyone is here. After that, it’s simply a matter of following the plan.”

  “How many still have to arrive?”

  Siobhan picked up her mug, closed her eyes, and inhaled. “Oh God, that smells good. Come to Mama, caffeine. I’ve been waiting for you.” She took a tentative sip. “Um, there’s about a dozen guests flying in today, along with the photographer, the amazing string quartet I heard at Megan’s wedding, and the singer.”

  A singer? Ben hadn’t said anything about that. There would be music during the ceremony, of course. Siobhan was walking down the aisle to an instrumental version of “Let My Love Open the Door”—her parents’ first dance at their wedding—and the recessional would be a Sarah McLachlan tune, but he hadn’t mentioned any vocal performances. Or had she simply missed that because she was remembering the feel of his chest beneath her palms?

  “My brain is fuzzy. Tell me again, what’s the vocal piece?”

  Siobhan’s eyes opened wide. She lowered her mug very carefully and glanced around the room.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Did I really just tell you that?”

  Uh oh.

  “No. You didn’t say anything. La-la-la, I didn’t hear a word.”

  “You can’t tell anyone.” Siobhan leaned across the table and grabbed Kyrie’s hands. “Swear to me you won’t say anything. Especially not to Adam.”

  Pot, meet kettle.

  “Not a problem. I won’t say a thing. Lips are zipped and all that.”

  Siobhan picked up her coffee once more, this time minus the blissed-out expression. “Damn it. I know better than to talk before I’m really awake, but I thought, Hey, it’s Paige, no big whoop. Then I go and blow it anyway.”

  “You really didn’t say much. Does that help?”

  “I said enough.” Siobhan bent her head, sighed, then raised it again with a mischievous grin. “Can you keep a secret? Because I’m dying to share this one, and since I already let the cat out of the bag, I might as well tell you everything.”

  Oh no. Not a good plan. No unloading on the fake bridesmaid.

  On the other hand, if Siobhan was talking about the wedding, she wasn’t asking about Paige.

  “You would be amazed at the secrets I can keep.”

  Siobhan did another quick survey of the room before leaning in closer. “Okay. So, you know how Adam loves country music, right? Everyone in my family is all, Seriously? Country? But I’ve been listening to it with him, and there’s a lot that’s really good. And I’m tired of my family finding ways to put him down.” Some of the joy leached from her face. “There’s been too many little digs and people making these snide comments, that they think he’s just marrying me because we have money. Geez. He was the one who said, let’s get a prenup to make everyone happy.”

  Kyrie didn’t know Adam very well, but right then and there she decided he was an A-OK guy.

  “I mean, look at what he’s accomplished, without any of the advantages that my family has. Add in the way his dad died when he was teenager, and damn. He’s worked hard for everything he’s got, and he got it all on his own and I am so proud of him. He’s the reason I want the wedding to be perfect, you know. Not because I’m some bridezilla. Though I don’t mind imitating one if it gets things accomplished.” She winked and raised her mug. “But this day is for him. It’s a celebration of us, sure. But it’s mostly so I can let everyone know how much he has brought into my life.”

  “Siobhan. I’m . . . I don’t know. Almost speechless. That is so beautiful.”

  Siobhan ducked her head. “Thanks. I’m glad you think so, because that’s what I had them put in the song.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Mmm-hmmm. I tracked down the folks who wrote some of his favorite songs, asked if they would do a private job, told them the things I wanted in there, and they wrote it. It’s perfect. And the woman who’s coming to sing it is ah-maz-ing. I get full body shivers every time I hear the recording she made, and it’s not even great quality, you know?”

  “That’s going to be so special.”

  “I know. And he has no idea. The only people who know are Wendy and the minister, because they kind of had to. And now you.” She raised her mug but didn’t drink. Instead, she cradled it between her hands and stared into space while a soft smile played over her lips. “She’s going to sing it right after we say our vows. He’s not going to know what hit him. I can’t wait to see his face, you know? That moment when he understands that it’s for him,
about him . . . all for him. That’s the moment I want to carry from my wedding day.”

  ***

  There were times when Ben wished he wasn’t trained to observe and analyze. He sometimes wondered what it would be like to go through life simply letting events flow past him rather than trying to break them down and quantify them. He’d never felt it as strongly as he had during the week with Kyrie.

  Now it was starting all over again.

  They saw each other on and off throughout the day. She had a fitting. He had one, too. She had some spa thing. He had to work on his toast. He wasn’t actively watching her, but she was always there, on his radar. It was similar to that phenomenon when he would run into someone unexpectedly and their first words would be, I was just thinking of you the other day! His rational mind told him it was merely selective memory, the brain remembering chance thoughts of one person while dismissing those pertaining to other people. But his grandmother’s voice was in his head, too. She was far more inclined to alternate explanations—ones that involved fate and angels and the workings of the unknown.

  Right now, Grandma was winning the battle. Especially when Kyrie texted him just after lunch.

  Help. We didn’t talk about the engagement party but I guess Something Significant happened. Can you fill me in? Maybe ten minutes?

  His first instinct was that nothing had happened at the party, and she should be asking Paige about this. But . . . hang on. Paige hadn’t been there. And there had been that prank with the pool . . .

  On my way.

  “I don’t know if I’m thinking about what anyone else was thinking about,” he said as soon as Kyrie closed the door to her room behind him. “But let’s go over it. Maybe if I start talking, it’ll jog my memory.”

  She nodded and perched on the edge of the bed. “Sounds good.” She held up a dime-store notebook adorned with a giant yellow happy face. “This is my secret weapon. I ran out right after brunch and found it in a drugstore. I put everything I could remember into it. But some things have slipped my mind already, so while you’re here, I might need to go over them again. Okay?”

 

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