Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

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Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances Page 130

by Maggie Way


  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  Luke waved Noah on.

  “Give up.”

  Luke groaned.

  “No, I mean it. It’s a losing battle that you stand no chance of winning. Why fight it?”

  Shea’s boots shuffled over the asphalt as he shifted his weight. “Well, there’s always the possibility for makeup sex.”

  “Fair point,” Noah conceded.

  A rush of anger and terror flooded Luke.

  Just then, the pub door opened and noise from inside spilled out with the bartender, Tony. “Hey, Shea, that new tap’s jammed again. Can you come take a look?”

  “You got this?” Shea said.

  Noah inclined his head and Shea disappeared behind the pub door.

  Darkness churned inside Luke, and his world listed to one side. His back against the wall, he sank to the ground, landing with a jarring thump. He slung an arm across his knees and dropped his head.

  Into the silence, Noah asked, “Would it be so bad if you just love her?”

  “Yes.” He couldn’t think of a worse fate.

  “Why?”

  Luke lifted his heavy head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me anyway.”

  The words rushed to the surface and propelled into the night air. “Because I’ll ruin her. Or she’ll ruin me. Shit, she already has.”

  The bastard laughed, and Luke considered planting a fist into his jaw as well.

  “Yeah, you two are a couple of real toxic personalities,” Noah said. “You know, now that you mention it, I can already see your corrupting influence on her. She’s becoming a tyrant. The other day, she even made us eat off plates.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m done.” Noah eased himself to the ground to sit beside Luke. “What’s got you so convinced you’ll ruin her?”

  “Darth Vader.” Luke laid his head against the wall. “He was the only character in that whole fucking universe that made sense to me.”

  “That’s hardly—”

  “More serial killers are born in November than any other month.”

  “I was born in November,” Noah said dryly.

  “I know that. We both were. Convinced yet?”

  “Nearly. What else you got?”

  Luke stared into his brother’s blurry face for a long moment while the words rolled around in his mouth like sour balls. “I’m the most like him.”

  The air changed, as if a live wire suddenly ran between them.

  “Like who?”

  “Dad,” Luke said. “He was weak.”

  “You think you’re weak?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think. I—” Luke swallowed back bile. “I killed a kid.”

  Noah’s beat of silence blared like a foghorn. “What happened?”

  “School shooting.” As the memories flooded his mind, nausea gripped him. “He’d trapped them in the lunchroom and was picking them off as they ran. At the first clear shot, I took him out.”

  “That’s nothing like Dad.” Noah was shaking his head. “Not the same thing at all.”

  “I’d do it again.” The blood in Luke’s veins turned to ice. “In a heartbeat. For her. If someone hurt her, or tried to, I’d kill them. I’d do it gladly, and then I’d dance on their fucking grave.”

  Rather than recoil, Noah’s expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t think that makes you like him.”

  Probably not. It made him a thousand times worse.

  “You’re a protector. A shield. Dad wasn’t a shield.” Noah’s tone hardened. “You’re right, he was weak. Too weak to be a shield. All he knew was how to lash out and strike. He was a sword. The difference between you two is night and day, right and wrong.”

  “The end result is the same.”

  “What’s the end result?”

  “I’ve tried to politely self-destruct, but it’s not working.” Luke shoved a hand through his hair. “Either I’m going to take her down with me or—” He bit back the words.

  “Or what?”

  Bile rose in his throat. “She’s going to leave me.”

  She’d be right to do so. She was too good for him. Tenderhearted and pure. She should run, not walk, away from him. Before he corrupted her soul, too. But understanding the logic of it didn’t lessen the primal pain of her impending abandonment. A fate was far worse than any he had imagined for them.

  He couldn’t find the strength to turn himself into the man she needed him to be, the man she deserved, and now, he waited with dread for the moment when he’d have to watch her realize that truth about him.

  “I don’t think you have to worry about that. Not yet. Look, the way I see it, you have a choice—”

  “What choice?” His voice pitched high with his anger. “Leave her?”

  “No, of course not. There are people who can help—”

  A growl of frustration tore from Luke. “I’ve tried it. It didn’t work. The weakness… it’s a part of me.”

  “Luke, listen to me. You are not Daniel. You’re the peacemaker. Like Mom.”

  “You didn’t live with him.”

  “I did.” Steel wrapped around Noah’s statement. “I was his favorite punching bag, remember?”

  “But then you left, and Shea moved out to get his own place. Jack went to live with the Thompsons. It was just Leo and me, and we’re both exactly like him.”

  Noah’s silence was damning.

  “You saw it, too.” Luke’s voice shook. “With Leo, the other day. You know I’m right.”

  “Let’s take care of you before we move on to deal with Leo.”

  “Don’t you get it, there’s nothing to deal with. We can’t be fixed.”

  “Bullshit. You’re soldiers, fighters, and with fighters, there’s always a chance.”

  Luke tried to focus on one of the Noah’s sitting beside him. “How do you know so much about it? You work with soldiers overseas or something?”

  A pensive quiet overcame his brother, until finally, he said, “I married one.”

  From there, Luke’s world faded to black. He recalled glimpses of the ride home, snippets of more conversation with Noah.

  Then he was at the inn, pinned beneath huge brown eyes.

  “Wh-what happened?”

  He fell hard into a chair at the table. “Nothing.”

  “You’re bleeding.” Her fingers brushed the corner of his mouth. “Someone hit you?”

  He jerked his head back. “Stop it. I’m fine.”

  She recoiled at the sharp bite in his tone. He wanted to pursue her, soothe her, but he didn’t.

  “You should just tell her.” Noah settled at the table with a bag of chips. “Save yourself the grief.”

  Luke groaned. “Get out.”

  “He got into a fight at the pub.” Noah crunched happily.

  “The pub? I thought you w-were working tonight.”

  “It was quiet. I got out a little early.” He glared at his brother. “What the hell, man? You told on me?”

  Noah opened his arms. “What, are we seven?” He turned to Emily. “He got in a fight with another cop. Weird fraternity of brothers thing.”

  Her soft gasp landed as a brutal gash on Luke’s heart. “Which cop? Wh-why?”

  Noah frowned. “Didn’t catch his name. Unless it was pissant or cocksucker.”

  “Noah, go home.”

  “All right, I’m going.” Noah scooped up his chips and pushed to his feet. “Talk to your wife.”

  Then Noah was gone and Emily stood before him.

  She pressed a warm washcloth to his lip. “Are y-you sure y-you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine. I drank too much and let Sloane get to me. The guy’s been a thorn in my side for months now and it just sort of built up.”

  “It’s not like you to get into a fight.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m a complicated man.” He was a broken man, and he didn’t know how to fit the pieces of himself back together again.

 
He lurched to his feet. “I’m going to grab a shower and crash.”

  On unsteady legs, he staggered toward the suite and twisted the doorknob. His chest tight, he couldn’t draw full breaths into his lungs. He was suffocating, when he closed the door behind him, shutting her out.

  Luke woke with a fierce headache and a raging attack of conscience.

  Beside him, the bed was empty. With a groan, he staggered to his feet. In need of a jolt, he pulled his blue jeans on over his boxer briefs and trudged to the kitchen. The carafe was missing from its perch in the coffeemaker, so he shuffled into the dining room, and at the buffet, filled a mug with steaming coffee.

  Voices carried to him from the foyer.

  “It’s so peaceful here.” He didn’t recognize the woman’s voice.

  “It is.” Mina said. “I’m so excited about this idea.”

  He scratched the scruff on his cheek and wandered closer.

  A waiflike woman with brown hair stood beside Mina beneath the crystal chandelier. “I’m not sure which is more beautiful, the property, or the house itself. It’s the perfect place to heal after a trauma.”

  Luke froze while his sluggish brain grappled with the meaning of their words.

  “I can’t believe you renovated this place all by yourself,” the waif said.

  Mina smiled. “I had help. My cousin helped with the decorating. She owns the house now and runs the inn.”

  Max bounded down the stairs and swept past them on his way into the dining room. He grunted at Luke when he passed by.

  Mina noticed him then. “I didn’t hear you come in. Luke, this is Chloe Smallwood. She’s a counselor. Her office is downtown, not far from the station. Chloe, this is Luke.”

  That was all she said by way of his introduction, as if the counselor already knew exactly who he was.

  His mind raced with panicked thoughts. This had Noah written all over it. He’d told his brother too much and the bastard had manufactured an opportunity to get a head shrink in front of him as quickly as possible.

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Chloe held out her tiny hand to him.

  He folded his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

  “Uh, I was just showing her the house,” Mina said.

  “She’s seen it.” Icicles dripped from his words.

  Both women stilled.

  An apple in hand, Max appeared at Luke’s side. “Everything all right?”

  “Everything’s fucking fine.” Luke’s muscles bunched.

  “Chloe’s interested in reserving the house for an event.” A slight tremble tinged Mina’s voice.

  “What kind of an event?” Luke asked.

  Max crunched into the apple, the noise like the crack of a firework exploding.

  The counselor’s mouth was moving. “I want to establish a retreat program for persons suffering post-traumatic stress disorder and other trauma-related disruptions.”

  Her words embedded like a sliver under Luke’s skin. A humorless laugh twisted through him.

  Mina’s nervous gaze darted between him and Chloe. “She’s created a program based on texts written thousands of years ago describing treatments for ancient warriors returning from battle. Cool, huh?”

  “We’re not interested.” Luke didn’t understand what was happening to him, or why panic roared through him.

  All he knew was that he wanted the counselor and her damn knowing eyes gone.

  “Since when did you take over event booking, too?” Max wanted to know.

  Hectic color stained Mina’s cheeks. “When I mentioned it to Emily, she was excited about the idea.”

  Luke pushed into Chloe’s space. “It’s time for you to leave. Now.”

  The color drained from the woman’s tiny face.

  Max slid between them, his face appearing in Luke’s line of sight. “Why don’t I show her the way out?” His features carefully blanked, he held Luke’s gaze. “Would that be all right?”

  Luke gave him a curt nod.

  Max placed a protective hand on the small of Chloe’s back and they disappeared through the front door.

  Sensing Mina’s huge, shock-filled eyes on him, a wave of shame and regret tore through Luke with such viciousness, it stole his breath and nearly dropped him to his knees.

  Without another word, he strode from the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Winter hit the island hard. Snow fell from the sky in a relentless onslaught and the churning waters of the lake calmed, crept, and finally froze. By mid-February, ice shrouded the harbor and coastline, and a bone-deep chill had settled in Emily’s body.

  Wrapped in the quilt from her bed, she sat at the kitchen table and stared unseeing into her coffee. At her elbow sat an invitation from Max to the premiere of his movie. It’d debuted at a film festival in Traverse City the day before, but she hadn’t attended the event.

  At four months pregnant, her belly had begun to show and she couldn’t imagine a dress that wouldn’t make her look like a bright-haired whale. Not to mention, as the lake iced over, the ferry had begun to run infrequently and she wasn’t sure she’d have been able to get off the island.

  Mainly, she didn’t have the heart for going.

  Loneliness gnawed at her as Luke continued to withdraw, and a tender wound had formed on her heart. Her only solace, and it wasn’t much of one, was the fact that by now she’d been married to Luke twice as long as Natalie had.

  A noise sounded at the back door and Mina floated into the room.

  “Hey, Em, what’s up?” At the table, she flipped open the box of doughnuts from the bakery. “Oooh. Any glazed ones left?”

  The tears that came too often with too little to provoke them threatened.

  Mina abandoned the box and dropped into a chair. “What is it? What did I say?”

  Emily shook her head. “It’s Luke, he’s… he’s m-m-miserable.”

  Mina didn’t disagree. Instead, she chewed her bottom lip. “Maybe it’s stress at work? His job must be hard sometimes.”

  Emily nodded. “I’ve tried talking to him about that, but he shuts m-me out. Even before the wedding…” Her fears rose up to consume her. “Wh-what if it isn’t work? Wh-what if he didn’t want to m-marry me?”

  Mina shook her head. “No way. Luke isn’t about to do something he doesn’t want to do. Not without a gun pointed to his head.”

  Emily blanched.

  Mina’s eyes grew wide with panic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean the baby…”

  When Emily spoke, her voice barely rose above a whisper. “You know?”

  “I know. Small town and all that.” Mina’s eyes shimmered. “Why didn’t you tell me?” A twinge of hurt threaded her tone.

  “I wanted to, but… I didn’t want to hurt you… after…” Emily couldn’t bring herself to speak the awful word—miscarriage.

  Her heart ached to see the anguish on her cousin’s face, but she didn’t know any words to take away the pain of Mina’s loss.

  Mina’s throat worked. “I understand. I do.”

  “I’m s-sorry,” Emily whispered. “For everything.”

  “Me, too.” Mina squeezed her arm.

  The gentle touch plucked at the center of Emily’s chest like a tuning fork.

  Through the years of her mom’s illness, she’d had no one with which to share her inner world. Her true self. She couldn’t burden her mom with her fears, or talk about her hopes and dreams for a future they knew her mom wouldn’t be able to take part in.

  Even before that, her social phobias had caused her to hold herself back, keeping people away so that they couldn’t hurt her.

  If they didn’t know her, the real her, they couldn’t reject her.

  Harrison’s cruelty had changed her at the core. She’d grown up suspecting she lacked some essential quality, so she made sure no one ever got close enough to confirm her fear one way or the other.

  But then her mom died, and she was lost and all alone in the world, and she d
idn’t like it. She didn’t like it so much, she uprooted her life and moved across the country, to this little island, with the hope of forging a relationship, a real connection, with Mina. Along the way, she’d collected a husband and a baby.

  But how could any of them come to love her if she never let them know her?

  The real her.

  She wasn’t that scared little girl taunted by cruel people’s cruel words anymore. She was a business owner and a wife.

  She was a mother.

  And she wanted those things to mean something. She wanted relationships with the people she cared about. Starting now. With her cousin.

  “I was afraid.” The confession burst from her.

  “Afraid of what?”

  “I was afraid if I told y-y-you the truth, about the b-baby, then I’d be forced to think about wh-why I was marrying Luke.” Emily’s voice wavered and she cleared her throat. “And if I thought too m-much about it, I’d have to admit the p-pregnancy was the only reason he p-proposed, and I was so desperate and scared and lonely, I let myself believe his p-proposal was real.”

  Mina’s eyes filled with moisture. “Oh, Em.” She lifted her shoulders. “He’s a guy. Maybe he doesn’t show it, but he cares about you. I can see that he does.”

  Emily sniffled and nodded, wanting with all her heart to believe Mina’s words. Though she’d thought so at one time, she now knew Luke wasn’t without insecurities.

  A determined frown pulled across Mina’s face. “We’re married to brothers and that makes us sisters. We have to promise each other, no matter what, we’ll be there for each other to talk, or listen, or plot revenge. Whatever is necessary.”

  That startled a laugh from Emily, and with it, her heart lifted with joy.

  She couldn’t believe she’d found the courage to attempt something she’d feared all her life, or that, once done, she would feel so good. Exhilarated. Liberated. Like singing in front of a room full of people.

  And that’s when she realized, Luke was afraid, too. Afraid to open up to her.

  Maybe, if she opened her heart to him first, he’d do the same in return. Then he’d know he could trust her with his worries. Because she loved him.

  Maybe knowing that she loved him would help him conquer whatever demons chased after him. Maybe it’d make him happy. And maybe, just maybe, he’d love her back.

 

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