The Goodbye Bride

by Denise Hunter

  Beau’s brows pulled together in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Well, I’m going to figure it out. I’m going to find her—people—and get her home ASAP. She’ll be gone before you know it.”

  “Where was she at?”

  “Portland.”

  Beau shook his head. “It just doesn’t make sense. It’s only been, what, six months since she left?”

  “Seven.” And eighteen days. But who was counting?

  “And she’s not only moved on, but she’s ready to walk down the aisle with some other dude?”

  Zac shrugged. It stung, he wasn’t going to lie. Here he was, forcing himself to date other people, and she was about to take the plunge.

  “You think she was cheating on you before?”

  “I don’t know.” He thought back to last fall. They’d been so happy. Or so he’d thought. “It didn’t seem like it. Everything seemed fine.” As Beau’s eyes met his, the silent words filled the gap between them. Obviously it wasn’t.

  “I don’t even want to think about it. I just want to find her fiancé, hand her over to him, and forget she was ever here.”

  “I’m not sure it’s going to be that simple.”

  “I’ll make sure it is. In the meantime maybe you can keep this to yourself. I really don’t feel like having a bunch of people slapping my shoulder again and asking me how I’m doing. Or worse, gossiping about what a gullible fool I am.”

  “People are going to see her, Zac.”

  “I’m closing the restaurant today. And I’ll have her back in Portland by tonight if it’s the last thing I do.”

  Chapter 6

  Lucy loosened the edges of the eggs with the spatula and with a quick jab of her wrist flipped the omelet. She liked to cook at the Roadhouse. The walk-in was always well stocked, and the pans were top of the line.

  Had it really been seven and a half months since she was here? It didn’t seem possible. It went against everything her mind was saying.

  She couldn’t forget the way Beau had looked at her upstairs. Like she was the last person he’d expected—or wanted—to see. She couldn’t help but feel she was missing some part of the equation, some critical piece of the past.

  After being chased from Zac’s apartment, she took a quick shower and slipped back into the loose jeans and T-shirt she’d been given from the hospital lost and found. Her stomach growling, she’d scrounged up some fresh ingredients. They’d both perk up after a nice breakfast.

  She’d heard Beau leave fifteen minutes ago, and her nerves were wired waiting for Zac to come down. As she slid the omelets onto plates, she heard his footfalls on the steps. A moment later he entered the kitchen, stopping short when he caught sight of her at the stove.

  He wore a black T-shirt that hugged his muscular torso and a pair of fitted jeans. His hair was still damp from his shower, his goatee trimmed tighter than it had been last night.

  “How are you feeling?” His remote gray eyes erased any warmth his words may have engendered.

  “Better now that the meds have kicked in. Thanks for checking in on me last night.”

  “How’s your vision?”

  “Still a little blurry. It comes and goes.” She held up the plates. “Hope you’re hungry.”

  “You should be resting.” If his tone weren’t so gruff, she might think he still cared. But no. He only wanted her out of his life as quickly as possible.

  The backs of her eyes stung. She swallowed hard as she set the plates on the prep table where they usually ate.

  Used to eat.

  After he retrieved some juice they dug in quietly, tension weaving around them like a sticky spiderweb. His stool couldn’t be farther away. He hadn’t even looked at her after that first glimpse of her at the stove.

  How could he not love her anymore? After all they’d meant to each other? It seemed impossible. Her feelings were real. How could she have been in love with another man, ready to pledge her life to him, just yesterday?

  A part of her was curious about this man she’d been engaged to. But another part just wanted to erase the past seven months so she could be back where she belonged—with Zac.

  “Has anything come back to you?” he asked.

  The hope in his voice deflated her. As much as she wanted him to remember his love for her—that’s how much he wanted her to remember that they’d parted ways.

  He’d moved on without her. He really didn’t love her. Maybe he—oh dear—maybe he was dating someone else. Maybe he was in love with someone else.

  Her appetite was suddenly gone. She pushed her egg around the plate with her fork.

  “Lucy?”

  “Um, no. I don’t remember anything else.” She cleared the emotion from her throat. “Beau seemed a bit cross this morning.”

  “He’s—distracted. He just got engaged.”

  “To Paige?”

  “What? No. Her name’s Eden. She’s from away. Came to Summer Harbor last Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh.” A lot had changed since she’d left. Riley was gone, Beau was with someone else, and Zac was completely over her.

  He didn’t say anything for a minute. “Listen, I’m going to shut down the restaurant today. Get online and figure this out. Sooner we can get you back to your old life the better.”

  She pinned him with a look, but he kept eating, eyes on his plate.

  “Better for whom?” she said. “I don’t even remember that life.”

  “Being back in your normal surroundings, your regular routine, will help.”

  “I don’t even know where I lived.”

  “We’re going to figure all that out.” He shoved a bite into his mouth.

  Lucy studied him. His evasive eyes, his stiff shoulders, his detached demeanor. She thought of Beau’s reaction to her. Not at all consistent with his usual warm, friendly nature.

  Maybe her brain wasn’t operating at full speed, but something was wrong. “What’s going on, Zac?”

  His eyes came up, meeting hers for a long-drawn-out moment.

  “Why are you being like this? So . . . distant and angry. And Beau . . . he didn’t even say hello to me.”

  Zac dropped his fork onto his plate and got up, his stool scraping across the ceramic tile. He scraped his plate off and set it in the sink. “Things didn’t end well between us, that’s all.”

  “What happened?”

  Zac grabbed a rag and began wiping down the counter. “You left, that’s what happened.”

  “What do you mean I left?”

  “Out of the blue. Just like that. No explanation.”

  Her mind rejected his words. The air left her lungs. “No.”

  “Ayuh. I went away for a weekend. When I came back, you were gone. Your apartment was empty, your things were gone.” His voice was tight. “You didn’t even leave a note, changed your number. I had no idea where you went. You left the ring, though, thanks for that.”

  She shook her head. “No. I wouldn’t do such a thing.” She loved Zac. It was the kind of love you lived for. The kind you died for. Surely he knew that.

  “Something happened. Something more than that. What aren’t you telling me?”

  He fixed her with a look. “I’m telling you everything I know. It’s precious little—believe me, I’m aware.”

  The food congealed in her stomach. She pushed her plate back.

  His hand moved across the stove top, working fast. His words were measured, careful. “When I couldn’t get hold of you, I figured you were done. We were done. I called the florist and the photographer and the bakery and every guest on our wedding list and told them the wedding was off.”

  A yawning ache opened in her middle. Her eyes stung hard. This was horrible. She couldn’t have ditched him like that. She wouldn’t have done that to him. Not to Zac.

  “But you did.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud. Her face was warm, like she’d sat out in the sun too long.

  “Somet
hing must’ve . . . I don’t know how . . . It doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.” Zac pitched the rag into the sink and turned to her, drawing a deep breath. Two. His chest rose and fell, and she got a little inkling of the pain she’d caused.

  No wonder he was treating her so differently. No wonder his brother was so mad. He was protective of Zac. She wanted to continue to deny what he was saying. As much as she loved Zac, she couldn’t even imagine bailing on him like that.

  But then she remembered other instances. Times before she’d even known Zac, when leaving was exactly what she’d done. Who she’d been. Other times when her feelings for Zac had scared her down to the marrow of her bones.

  She watched him gather himself, and she wanted to walk over to the sink and comfort him. She wanted him to lift her onto the counter, like she was a little bit of nothing. She wanted to kiss him until she made all his pain disappear. Until they both forgot everything that had happened.

  But he wouldn’t welcome her comfort or her kisses.

  “I—I can hardly believe I did that. But if I did—”

  “You did.”

  “I’m awful sorry. It doesn’t seem real. I can’t even imagine why I’d—” She shook her head. “I love you, Zac.”

  A shadow flickered as his jaw twitched. “Stop saying that. It isn’t doing anybody any good.”

  She blinked the tears away. “But it’s true. I still feel like our wedding is days away. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Emotion tightened the corners of his mouth. “Well, you won’t when you get your memory back. You were headed down the aisle toward someone else, remember?”

  The cords of his neck stood out, and his jaw was knotted, his eyes tight. “Listen. Let’s just focus on gathering information today. Let’s figure this out. Get you back to your life and your job and your—”

  Fiancé.

  His lips flattened. He grabbed her plate and glass and set them in the kitchen sink. “I’ll be in my office. Maybe you should get some rest.”

  Chapter 7

  Zac dropped his head back against his office chair and stifled the urge to throw his laptop across the room.

  How could it be so hard? It was a wedding, for crying out loud. Weddings were announced. They were publicized. And yet he couldn’t find one mention of Lucy’s wedding anywhere on any Portland site. He’d looked up her name in the Portland Press Herald and in the Daily Sun. He’d Googled her name with “wedding” and “engagement.” He’d checked the social media sites to see if she’d joined the rest of the world sometime over the past seven months. She hadn’t.

  Of course not. She didn’t want you to find her.

  He drew in a deep breath and blew it out, his eyes drifting over to the sofa where Lucy had lost her battle with fatigue. She’d followed him into the office hours earlier, much to his dismay. He needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, and she wasn’t making it easy. Looking at him with those soft blue eyes. Saying things he’d only dreamed of hearing since she’d left.

  She was easy to read, an open book. He could see the guilt in her eyes and the remorse in the slope of her shoulders. In the kitchen she’d reached out a hand as if she’d wanted to comfort him. But just as quickly, it had fallen to her side. Just as well.

  How many times had he gone over those days before she left, trying to figure out why she’d done it? It was true he’d been distracted. Moody. Had he chased her away? Or had she never even loved him as she should have? There’d be no answers for him now. Not unless her memory returned.

  She helped him with ideas as he researched, offering quiet suggestions. But he sensed her conflicting emotions. She wanted to help, but she wasn’t eager to return to Portland. She made no bones about that.

  Well, that was too bad. She’d wanted it seven months ago. He’d darn well figure this out and get her back home.

  Resolved, he went back to work, trying to ignore the little sounds she made in her sleep. She’d dozed off right where she sat, her head drooping against the wingback part of the sofa. The quilt he’d used last night was spread across her. Okay, so he’d put it there awhile ago when he’d needed to stretch his legs. She’d been curled up in a ball like she was cold. What was he supposed to do?

  Frowning, he forced his mind back to his search.

  What else? What wasn’t he thinking of? The wedding license. Were those a matter of public record? He did a search, his spirits buoying when he discovered they were. There were even online records!

  He scrolled quickly to the bottom of the page where the county links were. His eyes scanned the counties once. Twice. Cumberland wasn’t on the list. They didn’t offer the online feature. His spirits sank again. So many roadblocks.

  He’d have to wait until they opened tomorrow. He’d get the name of her fiancé from the license, then he’d track the guy down. He hated the delay, but maybe he’d find something else yet today.

  His eyes swung to the sofa again, to Lucy with her hair sticking up at all angles. With her small hand curled under her delicate chin, her long lashes kissing the tops of her cheeks. She looked so vulnerable. She hadn’t been herself since he’d pulled up to the curb in Portland. She was lost and confused, and it pulled at every protective instinct he had. But she wasn’t his to protect anymore.

  She made a little hmm sound as she resituated, curling into the sofa arm and letting out a soft sigh. Where had the bold, quirky Lucy gone? The one who’d snagged his attention the moment she’d walked into his restaurant? Maybe time hadn’t stopped when she’d entered his world, but it had seemed to.

  His brothers were hanging around that evening, the first day of the year that was warm enough to make people believe spring really was on its way. There was a jubilant feeling in the air. The Red Sox home opener had ended in a triumphant win over the Phillies, and the town was in the mood to celebrate.

  The jukebox cranked out country tunes, and a few brave souls danced on the wide-open space in front of it. A rowdy game of pool ensued in the back room, and his well-staffed kitchen was hopping. His servers scurried around with fragrant trays of buffalo wings, seafood platters, and bowls of chowder.

  With all the commotion, people coming and going, he didn’t even know what it was that pulled his eyes to the door the minute she walked in. Dark hair framed a pixie face that seemed lit from within. She wore a pair of fitted jeans, a glittery black top, and a pair of high-heeled boots that made her legs go on forever. A blingy leather bag was slung over her shoulder.

  He was no fashion expert, but she looked a little upscale for Summer Harbor. She was alone, but she had a confident air about her that said she didn’t mind her own company.

  She paused in the entry, probably wondering if she should seat herself. He had just begun to move from behind the counter when Beau intercepted her on his way to the poolroom. After a quick exchange she headed toward a small empty table across the room.

  A server called for help, and Zac got lost in his work for a while. Correcting a customer’s order, refilling drinks, cleaning up a spill in the poolroom.

  The next time he had a chance to look up, her table was empty, and disappointment settled like a weight in his gut. But a few seconds later he found her on the dance floor, moving fluidly to “Country Girl.” Nice moves. She was short with subtle curves. Compact. Tousled brown hair moving around her shoulders.

  He liked women of all sizes and shapes, but because of his height he tended toward tall women, usually willowy ones with short hair. But he suddenly felt like he’d been missing out.

  Several local women were dancing near her, and she was chatting them up like they were old friends. She smiled at something one of them said, and two adorable dimples came out to play.

  He fought the urge to make the sign of the cross—and he wasn’t even Catholic.

  “Something catch your eye?” Riley sank onto an empty stool in front of him.

  His younger b
rother was built like a tank, barrel-chested, his arms thick and strong from his days on the lobster boat. At just under six feet he was the shortest of the three Callahan brothers.

  “She’s cute, huh?” Riley was watching the new girl dance.

  “Cute” didn’t do her justice. The upbeat song faded away, replaced by the poignant strains of “I Don’t Dance.” Jared Watkins, one of his old schoolmates, swept her up in his arms, and Zac felt a prickle of annoyance.

  “She’s from the South,” Riley said.

  Zac pulled his eyes from the dance floor. “How do you know?”

  “She asked me where the restroom was. Nice, slow Southern drawl. Tennessee, maybe.”

  “Naw.” Beau appeared on the stool next to Riley. “You see those boots? I’m guessing Texas.”

  Riley gave a laugh. “Not even close.”

  “Can I get a refill, bro?” Beau asked Zac. “Ten says I’m right.” He fished a ten-spot from his wallet and slapped it on the counter.

  “You’re on.” Another ten landed on the bar. “You in, Zac?”

  “Sure.” He refilled Beau’s glass, then fished a bill from his pocket. “It’ll give me a reason to talk to her.”

  “Like you needed one.” Riley smirked. “You’ve been eyeing her since she walked through the door.”

  Beau quirked a brow. “Aw, that’s so cute. You smitten, little bro?”

  Zac shot him a look as he moved to take a drink order from a fellow down the counter.

  “Better hurry up before Jared stakes his claim.”

  “She kind of looks like the chick in that movie,” Beau said. “Mandy something. What was it . . .?” He snapped his fingers. “A Walk to Remember.”

  Zac lifted a brow.

  “Don’t judge. It was a date.”

  Zac’s eyes swung to the dance floor on his way to the kitchen. He fetched a seafood sampler and delivered it to the end of the bar. When he returned, he took a phone call from a customer’s wife, asking Zac to tell her husband to stop on the way home for a gallon of milk. By the time he passed on the message, the slow dance was over and the dance floor was hopping again. The object of his attention was right in the middle of it all.