Jilted in January

by Clarice Wynter

  “People treat me like Brad died.”

  Audrey grinned wickedly. “We can arrange that.”

  “Stop.”

  “Harper, darling, you have to stop trying to read everyone’s mind. I’m sure Uncle Mel does feel bad for you. Everyone does. I don’t get why that makes you feel guilty. You’re not taking anything from anyone. You still deserve their sympathy even if you don’t feel as bad as they think you feel.”

  “I didn’t know you were a psychiatric nurse.”

  “I might as well be.” Audrey picked up her mug again and sipped. “Grant is hot. He told you he wants you.”

  Harper nodded. His words had oozed into her brain like warm honey. His voice had been low and sexy, and she’d wanted so badly to say she wanted him too, but Mrs. Dawson’s face had popped into her head at that very moment, and something in the back of her brain told her she had no business with another man’s big strong hands on her ass until she had put things to bed with Bradley. They hadn’t officially broken up. They hadn’t spoken since that desperate phone call the night of the rehearsal dinner. She didn’t, for a second, believe she owed him anything, but she owed it to herself to end one relationship before she even dared to think about getting into another. “I think I need to slow down and deal with one thing at a time.”

  “Start with Grant.”

  “I can’t do that. If something is meant to happen between us, it’ll wait until things have settled down a bit and I know what I’m doing. Right now I’m still in free fall. I know it’s over with Brad, and I’m strangely okay with that, but I don’t think I’m ready for anything else.”

  “I wish I could say the same. I’m ready for everything else. If there was even one halfway normal guy out there, I’d be all over that.”

  “I think you’re becoming too picky.” Harper relaxed back into the cushions of Audrey’s couch, relieved the focus was off of her and Grant for the moment.

  “Don’t go there.”

  “Come on. What was so wrong with Jim from the Gym?”

  “His gun collection freaked me out.”

  “A lot of men go hunting.”

  “They were Nerf guns.”

  Harper fought not to laugh into her cocoa. “Commendable. He can’t hurt anyone with a Nerf gun.”

  “He’s twenty-seven. Still plays with Nerf guns.”

  “He’s young at heart?”

  “Maybe I’m not. I’m an old fogey at heart. I want to date a grown-up who doesn’t cook brains or name goats or have weird sexual hang-ups.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Oh, wait a second. I have an idea.”

  “Don’t say you’re giving me Grant, because I might just take you up on it, and I know you’d regret it.”

  “No.” Harper set her mug down and reached for her purse where she still carried Cassie Hall’s business card. “Remember I told you I ran into the cupcake girl at the expo?”

  “Cassie something?”

  “Yeah.” Harper pulled out the pretty pink business card. “She told me she does matchmaking on the side.”

  Audrey burst out laughing. “Are you kidding?”

  “No, that’s what she said. She matches couples up. Maybe she can find you someone normal.”

  “I thought matchmakers were all old mystical women who read your tea leaves and speak in heavy accents.”

  Harper tossed the card at Audrey. “What could it hurt?”

  Audrey glanced at the card then tossed it on the table. “I don’t think I’m desperate enough for a matchmaker yet.”

  “I’ll call her for you.”

  “Don’t you dare! Now let’s get back to talking about you and Grant.”

  “There is no me and Grant.”

  Audrey winked. “Not yet.”

  Chapter Seven

  Grant dialed Harper’s cell number slowly, pausing between each number to consider exactly what he was going to say to her. The call was official business. Mrs. Moriarty, President of the Women’s Auxiliary Club, wanted to meet with her to discuss centerpieces and gift basket designs for the annual dinner, so he had a good excuse. He just couldn’t decide if he should lead with congratulations for getting the design contract or an apology for his clumsy attempt at an unwelcome pass the other night.

  She had told him to call her, so he really didn’t expect her to hang up on him. He would have given anything to erase the three stupid little words he’d said to her. I want you. He hadn’t been lying. In that moment, with her in his arms, he’d wanted nothing more than to carry her to the velvet couch in the bridal suite and peel off that hideous janitor’s jumpsuit. The thought of her naked beneath the rough material had him hard even now, and that made him stop dialing altogether. He hung up and took a deep breath. “This is business. Just business.”

  He dialed again, faster this time. It was just after noon, so he expected she’d be on her lunch hour from her regular job. He didn’t want to disturb her at work and add yet another infraction to his growing list. He really wouldn’t blame her if she bailed on their little partnership. He’d been totally out of line the other night.

  He’d just convinced himself to hang up again when she answered. Her cheery hello made him wonder if she’d checked the caller ID. Maybe she sounded so chipper because she didn’t know it was him.

  “Hi, Harper? It’s Grant. I’m sorry to bother you if you’re at work.”

  “It’s all right. I’m just heading to my car for lunch. What’s up?”

  Me. He bit his tongue before that confession came out. “Are you available tomorrow evening?” Ugh, that wasn’t how he wanted to lead. He should have mentioned Mrs. Moriarty.

  “Um…I guess so. Why?”

  “The President would like to meet with you.”

  “The President? Of the United States?” She laughed.

  “Sorry—of the Women’s Auxiliary Club. I’m distracted today. Too much paperwork.” Lie, lie, lie. You bastard, stop lying. “She would like to talk to you about ordering decorations for their event at the end of the month.”

  “Oh, that’s great. Sure, I can come by tomorrow. I get out of work at five. What time is good?”

  “How about seven?”

  “Sure. Should I bring anything? More samples?”

  “If you have some photographs of your work, that would be great.”

  “I’ll put something together, thanks. Oh, does Ray need his jumpsuit back?”

  Grant suppressed a smirk. Damn that jumpsuit. “He can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Good. I’ll bring it then.”

  He ignored the million suggestive remarks floating through his suddenly very horny brain and forced his voice to a normal octave. “Thanks. I’ll see you then.”

  She hung up, and Grant stared at the phone for a second. He had to stop thinking about kissing Harper again and get over this crush he had before he scared her away and he was left with orders for centerpieces he couldn’t fill.

  * * * *

  “Would you like me to leave the door open so you can make a quick getaway?” Harper’s sarcastic inquiry came out before she could stop herself, but she refused to feel guilty. When Brad called her only moments after she arrived home from work that evening, she decided that, while putting him off for a while might serve him right, she needed to get their final conversation over and done with.

  He stepped over the threshold of her front door, looking indecently tan. At least he had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were slumped, much the way his mother’s had been when she’d left Harper’s place Sunday morning. “I guess I deserve that.”

  “You do, but I’m sorry anyway. I don’t want this to be a fight, so I’ll do my best not to say exactly what I’m thinking.” She closed the door reluctantly behind him and crossed her arms over her chest. After all the hours she’d spent rehearsing what she would say to him face-to-face, she found herself at a loss. Ever since Grant had called her at noon, thoughts about how she wou
ld deal with their illicit kiss had consumed her, crowding Bradley right out of her brain.

  She had to admit, she liked the feeling.

  “I know saying I’m sorry isn’t going to make a difference.” Brad settled himself on her couch in his usual spot. For someone who had been a fixture in her life for two years, he looked out of place. His boy-next-door good looks seemed to have faded, his hair didn’t seem as glossy, and his physique seemed lacking in comparison to Grant’s. Harper tried not to dwell on the comparisons and instead curled up in the chair opposite him, leaving her usual spot on the cushion next to him conspicuously empty.

  “Don’t waste time on apologies, then. All I really want to know is, if you were having second thoughts, why did you wait until the night of the rehearsal dinner to do something about them, and why didn’t you talk to me in person instead on the phone from the airport? And when can I expect a check to reimburse me for the trip to Tahiti I never got to take?”

  Brad sighed. He laced his fingers together in front of him and bowed his head. “I will pay you back. I promise. And the second thoughts hit me that day. It wasn’t like I was thinking about it for weeks. It was spur of the moment. I lost it, and I felt like I had to get away from everyone. My parents especially. I felt like the wedding was more for them than for us.”

  “No kidding.”

  “If you felt that way, why didn’t you say anything?”

  Harper leaned back in her chair. “I didn’t think it would matter after the wedding. Your mom doesn’t have any daughters, so this was a big thing for her. I didn’t mind her being involved. In fact it took some of the pressure off me. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t as freaked out as most brides would have been.”

  Brad glanced up quickly, apparently surprised by her confession. “You weren’t?”

  “Look, this whole thing was a train wreck, but we need to put it behind us. My concern right now is getting the balance in my checking account back up to normal.”

  “So you want money.”

  “Well, I did pay off the caterers, the photographer, the florist, and the DJ. The only thing I haven’t done was go pick up the rings. You can handle that.” Harper chose to ignore the flash of annoyance she saw in his eyes.

  “Do you think we should go see a counselor? My mother suggested someone she knows.”

  Harper rose. “No. I don’t. I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’s much point in trying to fix this, do you?”

  Bradley stared at her. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am. Look me in the eye and tell me you want to get married.”

  He did. “I do. Of course I do. I love you.”

  Harper’s stomach sank. She’d actually been hoping he would tell her he’d met someone else, just like all the rumors floating around town said. Then her guilt over Grant might just fade away. “If you love me, then what were the second thoughts about? A week ago you didn’t want to get married, you didn’t even want to be in the same country as me. What changed?”

  “I thought everything through, and I realized I was an idiot. We need some time, but we can work everything out.”

  He looked so sincere, so hurt. For a split second Harper wondered if it was just her wounded pride that made her want to kick him out in the snow. Could she really have fallen out of love with Brad in the space of a week? Or had it taken longer than that? If he hadn’t bailed on the wedding, would she have?

  “Brad, I think it’s all worked out. You weren’t ready to get married. I’m not ready. And I have a feeling when we both are ready, it won’t be with each other.”

  “What? Where did all this come from? On the phone you were begging me. You said you’d do anything to work it out.”

  “Yeah, at the time, I would have done anything to get you to the rehearsal dinner so I didn’t have to face your family and my family and our friends and tell them all you were gone. The humiliation almost killed me. And you know what, after the embarrassment went away, you know what was left?”

  He just stared at her as if she’d shot him in the heart. “What?”

  “Relief.”

  Brad jumped off the couch, his hands in the air. “So you’re glad I left? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I’m not glad you stole my honeymoon out from under me. That was childish and just plain rotten. But I’m glad we didn’t get married. It wasn’t right, and it wouldn’t have worked out.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Harper barked a laugh. “What part don’t you believe? I’m not playing hard to get. I’m done. This is over.”

  “I mean, I don’t believe you could be like this. I thought you loved me.”

  “Well, I thought I did too. I guess I was wrong.” The words even hurt Harper to say. She’d always believed love was forever. She understood some relationships didn’t work out, but she’d always deep down believed when two people were in love, some of that remained between them, always. Now, looking at Brad, she realized that wasn’t true. She cared about him still, and she knew his problems with her stemmed from his parents involving themselves too much in every aspect of his life. He didn’t know what he really wanted because maybe he was finally realizing he’d only ever had what they wanted for him. She was part of that. They’d started dating, and his parents had approved of her and pushed him into keeping the relationship going and taking it to the next level, engagement and finally marriage. She wondered if anything that had gone on between them was really because Brad wanted it, or had it all been because his parents had convinced him it was the right choice?

  Brad glared at her, then whirled around and headed for the door. “I get it. You’re punishing me for what happened.”

  There was that phrase again. What happened—as though he hadn’t had any control over it.

  “I’m not punishing you. I’m telling you the truth so we can stop wasting our time with a relationship that can’t be fixed.”

  Brad flung the door open. “You think it can’t be fixed, then fine. We won’t fix it.”

  “We can’t fix it.”

  “Fine.” He left, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

  Harper resisted the urge to curse at him as much as she wanted to. He wouldn’t have been able to hear her anyway over the roar of his car engine as he blasted out of her driveway. She hoped he wouldn’t drive recklessly, and that made her feel guilty. She did still care about him, and as much as he’d hurt her, he’d done her a favor too. She couldn’t stand to see him get hurt, so she picked up her phone and dialed his mother. Mrs. Dawson was thrilled to hear from her at first, less so when Harper explained the state Brad had been in when he left. She agreed to send her husband out to look for him and make sure he got home safely on the icy roads and before she hung up she said something that made Harper’s heart break all over again.

  “He really does love you, Harper. He’s been a mess since he came home, and he was so afraid you would hate him. I know the two of you will work it out, it just takes time.”

  Harper hung up and threw herself on the couch. Tears stung her eyes, not for ending her relationship with Brad, but because she couldn’t figure out when it had gone bad. It hadn’t been just two weeks ago that everything fell apart. If she couldn’t figure out a relationship wasn’t working, how would she ever be able to tell for sure if one was?

  Chapter Eight

  “I scared him off.” Harper sighed and sank into the smooth cushions of the faux leather booth at Colette’s.

  Across from her, Audrey sipped a piña colada. “I don’t believe that.”

  “No, really. I went last night to meet with him and Mrs. Moriarty from the Women’s Auxiliary Club, and I don’t think he glanced in my direction the whole time. When we were done he shook my hand and said good night.”

  “He’s giving you space.”

  Harper glared at Audrey. Her friend had become so nonchalant about men and dating. It was easy for Audrey. She was surrounded by good-looking men, between the interns at th
e hospital, the EMTs who were mostly male, the firemen and the police officers who had plenty of occasions to show up in the emergency room, she met new guys all the time. Granted she hadn’t found one in the past twelve months who was worth a second date, but maybe she was becoming jaded because she had too much of a selection to choose from.

  Harper had only dated a couple of guys before Brad, a high school boyfriend, a college boyfriend, then a fiancé. That was three men, not counting Grant, in ten years. “I don’t want space.”

  “So go over there and tell him that.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. And besides, what will he—”

  “Don’t say think.”

  “Think.”

  Audrey growled. “He’s a guy. He’s not going to analyze your motives, trust me. They don’t do that. If you go to his office and plant a big wet one on him, he won’t be wondering why, he’ll just be kissing you back.”

  Harper wanted to believe that, but after the very professional meeting she’d had with Grant and Mrs. Moriarty, she was certain he’d lost interest in her. The kiss, the husky whisper, must have been just a spur of the moment thing that he’d wisely reconsidered.

  Why had she rushed off like a frightened kitten that night? Now she had two weeks to get over him before the she had to see him again to deliver the decorations for the Auxiliary dinner, so seeing him again wouldn’t leave her knees weak and her thoughts in a jumble. It was a miracle she could even remember the details she’d discussed with the Auxiliary Club President when all she’d thought about during the meeting was Grant’s hands on her ass and his breathless whisper in her ear. “I want you.”

  Now he didn’t anymore.

  “What if you’re wrong, and I make a complete fool of myself?”

  “Besides him, who will know?”

  “Well, me. And him. Isn’t that enough?”

  “Harper, Harper, Harper.” Audrey set down her drink. “You are never going to be happy until you stop worrying about how everything you do looks on the outside. Be spontaneous. If it backfires, it backfires. Apologize and walk away with your chin up.”