by Lizzie Shane
He nodded, still without looking at her, and stepped into the shower room, shutting the door.
*
Present day…
Charlotte’s face froze.
Candy didn’t know what kind of reaction she’d been expecting—rage, denial, tears—but she hadn’t been prepared for blank shock. She put her hand on top of Charlotte’s unmoving one and kept speaking, filling up the stunned silence. “I’m so sorry. I know this is the last thing you want to hear on your wedding day, but it’s better to find out what kind of guy he is now, isn’t it? Before it’s too late?”
Emotions scuttled across Charlotte’s eyes, too rapid for her to read.
“We can tell Mom,” Candy suggested. “She’ll take care of everything. You won’t have to lift a finger—”
“Why would you say that?”
Candy broke off, confused. “About Mom?”
“Tug didn’t sleep with Alicia.” Her hand jerked out from under Candy’s. “Why are you lying? Why would you make up such a hateful story?” Charlotte turned to her with accusation in her eyes. “Do you hate me that much?”
Ah. Denial. Okay. She’d been expecting this, just maybe not with the accusations attached. “Charlotte, no. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. I saw him,” Candy kept her voice gentle, but firm.
“No.” Flat. Unquestioning. “You’re lying. There’s some explanation.”
“Maybe,” Candy hedged to pacify Charlotte as anger kindled in her eyes. Anger at Candy. “I’m sure he’ll have some explanation if you ask him about it, but the fact is—”
Charlotte shook her head as if Candy were speaking Swahili. “I can’t ask him. It’s bad luck to see him on our wedding day.”
Candy must have entered an alternate universe where everything looked the same but nothing made sense. “You can’t still be thinking of marrying him today.”
“Of course, I am. Everyone’s coming. The wedding is at four.”
As if her four o’clock wedding was a commitment that could only be changed with a majority in both houses and ratification by two-thirds of the states.
“Charlotte, he cheated on you with your maid of honor the night before your wedding.” Candy didn’t bother to keep her tone gentle this time. The words were intentionally harsh, designed to wake her sister up, but Charlotte shook her head.
“We haven’t said the vows yet so it’s not like he broke them.”
“And you think he won’t?” Candy asked incredulously. “How could you ever trust him?”
“I love him, Candy.”
“And love is all you need?” She scoffed. “Is this because of Reggie? I know he destroyed your self-esteem and Tug seems like the polar opposite of your first husband, but do you really want another man who is going to pat you on the head and lie to you while he’s sleeping with other people?”
Charlotte’s expression turned mulish. “Tug isn’t like that.”
“Tug is exactly like that!”
“I’m sorry my marriage doesn’t live up to your exacting standards. Not everyone has a perfect life with a perfect husband who has eyes only for you. Some of us have to live in the real world, Candy.”
“Trust me, my relationship with Ren is far from perfect, but I don’t think holding out for a man who wouldn’t sleep with your best friend the night before your wedding is an unreasonable standard.”
“You misunderstood,” Charlotte insisted. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw. We both know how drunk you were last night. You threw up in the bushes! How can you be sure of what you saw?”
“I may have been wasted, but I wasn’t hallucinating. Ask Alicia.” It was a gamble, bringing Alicia into the conversation. Especially when she seemed so eerily calm this morning. Not at all guilty. Candy was betting that Alicia truly was Charlotte’s friend and wouldn’t let her marry someone who would betray her trust—which was a risky bet. But Candy was prepared to stare her down until she told the truth. Even if she had to use that damn shipment as leverage.
Though then Alicia would probably blab about Ren.
God, when did things get so complicated? If she’d been thinking, she would have done intense background research and dug into the histories of everyone present, getting dirt on them so she was prepared for the freaking minefield that was a wholesome Raines family gathering. Where the blackmail got too tangled to unknot.
She’d kill for her computer right now.
She’d been stupid, coming in blind. Failing to prepare for this like the battle it was.
Charlotte stood suddenly. “I don’t want to talk to Alicia. And if you say a word to anyone, I’ll never speak to you again. This is my choice. And I choose Tug. And if you even cough during the speak now or forever hold your peace portion of the ceremony, I’ll destroy you. Understand? I’m getting married today. And it’s going to be perfect.”
*
Ren had woken up that morning with a crick in his neck and an empty feeling in his chest.
The former was due to the chair he’d slept in last night because he hadn’t trusted his unconscious self in the bed with Candy. The instinct to reach for her was too strong. So after he’d doused the light, he’d stretched out in a chair—an idea that seemed much better at the time than it did when he was still trying to work the kinks out of his neck at eleven o’clock the next morning.
The empty feeling was a little harder to diagnose.
He’d been certain he’d reached the end of his rope with Candy before, but he’d always woken up ready to give her one more chance. This felt different. The sense of finality he’d experienced the night before still lingered in the morning.
He’d gone downstairs while she was still snoring to scrounge some breakfast and had picked up a few hangover cures, but it had been by habit rather than his usual desire to take care of her. To show her what love could be. Nothing he could say or do on that front would make a difference. She wasn’t listening. So he picked up a few things for her and counted the hours until this ordeal would be over. When he could go home and start over.
When she’d woken up—looking like death and probably feeling worse—he hadn’t wavered. When she’d nagged him about Javi, he’d brushed her aside without a thought. His uncle wanted to be in his life—even if he didn’t always show it in the most conventional ways. Candy had proven time and again that she didn’t feel the same.
And he’d flown across the country and pretended to be her husband all because he thought something would change. That she would see him differently—see them differently—and they’d live happily ever after.
Was there anything more emasculating than being that pathetic sap who trailed after a woman long after she’d made it clear she didn’t want him? Or rather that all she wanted him for was sex? Their friendship had muddied things, but it was obvious true love need not apply. She didn’t want that life. And he’d been the idiot who had taken years to wake up to that fact. What a freaking waste.
Ren checked his email. Sent Max a text to check on Wicket. Did a few searches for earlier flights to see what their options would be.
He’d learned to be patient. He was good at waiting—hadn’t the last four years proved that? But he was ready to be done. Ready to be home. He hated not knowing whether the wedding was on or off. Whether they were staying or going.
Was Candy talking to her sister even now? When she’d told him that Tug had cheated on Charlotte, he hadn’t been surprised. It seemed to fit with what little he knew of the groom. The kind of man who was a god in his own eyes. For whom the usual rules of decency simply didn’t apply. But it did suck for Charlotte. And for Candy, who now had to tell her.
Would she come back to the room to tell him what was happening if things were changing? Would she even think of him?
Ren pocketed his phone and left the suite, tired of waiting for Candy. He jogged down the stairs and around to the back of the house, heading for the terrace that seemed to have become the unofficial gathering place for the family.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Four months ago…
Ren slipped into Max’s office when his boss waved him in, not bothering to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping as Max finished his phone conversation.
“Are you sure you don’t need help moving your stuff into my place?” A medium-length pause. “Okay, but give me a call if you need anything. I’m happy to force my employees to do physical labor for you.”
Since that appeared to be for his benefit, Ren pulled a face. Waiting until Max murmured, “See you later, Parv,” and set the receiver back into the cradle.
“Parvati’s moving in with you? I always thought she was cute.”
“She’s off limits.”
“Well, of course she is, if she’s moving in with you.”
“It isn’t like that.”
Ren suppressed a snort. “No? That why you almost jumped across your desk and throttled me when I said she was cute?” Max glared and he grinned. “Never mind. You do you, Boss.” He certainly wasn’t in a position to comment on other people’s love lives. “What did you want to see me about?”
“I wanted to ask you about Candy.”
Speak of the devil. Ren tried to keep his expression neutral, but he knew his voice was a little too sharp when he asked, “What about her?”
Max held up a hand. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two and I don’t want to. I just wanted to know if you’d noticed her having any problems with clients lately.”
Shit. “You mean Hank the Hammer.”
Max swore under his breath and Ren silently echoed the sentiment. He’d been hoping he was overreacting to the Hammer situation, but if Max was worried too…
“Is he harassing her?” Max asked.
“Not that she admits, but I don’t think he’s calling all the time just because he’s worried about darling Cherish.” Hank the Hammer’s teenage daughter coming to live with him had motivated him to hire EP to beef up security—though lately he seemed more interested in Candy than he was in guarding his precious baby.
And Candy would never ask for help. It wasn’t in her DNA.
Max grimaced. “You think she’ll talk to you about it?”
“I doubt it,” Ren said honestly. Even before their latest break up, Candy had never been a share-her-troubles kind of girl. “But I’ll give it a shot if you want.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Ren nodded, pathetically grateful for the excuse to talk to her again—things had been distant between them for too long. “You got it, Boss.”
*
Present day…
When Candy returned to the terrace after Charlotte stormed off, Alicia was nowhere to be seen—probably hiding in case Charlotte came looking to tear her hair out. Though Alicia needn’t have worried. Charlotte didn’t believe her. Or she didn’t want to.
Not that Candy could blame her. If she’d found out that Ren had betrayed her trust that way—
But he wouldn’t. Ren wasn’t wired that way.
And he wasn’t hers.
When he’d started going out with Jessica, it had killed her, but she’d known it was her own damn fault. If he’d cheated, it would have broken her. She should have thought of that. She should have expected Charlotte to deny it with everything she had. At least at first. But she had never been good at seeing things from Charlotte’s perspective.
“Candice!”
Candy flinched at the screech—turning toward the sound and expecting to see Charlotte come racing onto the terrace to claw her face off, but what she saw instead was her mother, her face blotchy and red, storming up the terrace steps with a piece of white cardstock clutched in her hand.
As she got closer, Candy could see it was one of Charlotte’s wedding invitations, only with dark writing all over the blank side. Her heart lifted at the sight. Had Charlotte called off the wedding? Was she pulling a runaway bride? Thank God.
“What did you say to him?” Her mother stormed toward her in a righteous fury, showing no awareness for the other family members scattered around the terrace.
Wait. To him? She hadn’t talked to Tug. She hadn’t even seen him. “I didn’t—”
“He says you told him to follow his heart!”
“I told Tug to follow his heart?” That was his excuse? Was he in love with Alicia? Were they running away together? Was that why Alicia wasn’t on the terrace? Why she didn’t feel guilty? Did love excuse all crimes?
“Aiden!”
“Aiden?”
“He’s gone!” her mother shrieked, loud enough that the neighbors probably heard. “Run off with that nanny. And he says you made him see he couldn’t live without her. What did you say?”
“I don’t know,” Candy admitted, scrambling to catch up. “I barely remember talking to him.” Large parts of last night still weren’t clear.
“Call him,” her mother demanded. “Get him back here. He isn’t answering my texts and my calls are going to straight to voicemail.”
“Mine probably will too—”
“Candice Marie Raines, you will call your brother right this second and get him back here. You messed this up and you will fix it. I refuse to tell your sister that we’re out one usher and two flower girls because you couldn’t keep your nose out of places it doesn’t belong!”
“Mom, if she makes him happy—”
“I don’t care if he’s happy! I care if he’s here.” A vein bulged in her mother’s forehead and Candy was suddenly acutely conscious of the fact that her mother wasn’t as young as she used to be and sending her blood pressure up like this couldn’t be healthy. “Call.”
Her mother stalked into the house on a tide of righteous rage, leaving Candy with that order.
Scott arched an eyebrow over his sunglasses. “Aiden ran off with the nanny, eh? I didn’t think he had it in him.”
Neither had Candy, if she was honest. She’d thought Aiden’s crisis of conscience would be resolved the way most Montgomery-Raines family conflicts were resolved—her mother’s way. Good for him for bucking the will of the great matriarch.
Though he might have picked a better time to do it.
Did he have to run off in the middle of the wedding? Since it looked like there was going to be a wedding, after all, matrimonial fidelity be damned.
It was a gorgeous day for it. Sun shining and birds chirping.
And raised voices shouting around the side of the house where the tents for the reception were being set up.
Candy frowned. “What in the…”
Scott stood, following the sound of voices as well, and the two of them rounded the far edge of the house to the east lawn where Tug was storming through the center of the tables that had been set up in the grass with Charlotte wobbling after him in heels.
“Tug, please!” she cried out. “I’m sorry!”
Wait. Charlotte was sorry?
“I shouldn’t have doubted you! I know that! I was wrong!”
Oh, hell no.
Candy’s first instinct had been to retreat and let the happy couple work it out on their own, but as soon as Charlotte’s pleading penetrated, indignant rage on her sister’s behalf wiped that instinct away in a rush and Candy marched across the lawn and into the table maze to intercept the dickhead who was dicking her sister around.
Tug spotted her and changed course to charge toward her. “How dare you?”
“How dare I?” she shouted incredulously as they circled toward one another like fencers squaring off. “I’m not the one who screwed the maid of honor on the night before my wedding.”
Scott had been jogging at her side, and she heard him stumble and ask, “Seriously?” but didn’t take her eyes off Tug long enough to answer.
“You didn’
t see what you thought you saw, Candy!” Charlotte cried, losing ground as her heels caught in the soft earth.
“How dare you lie to my wife?” Tug bellowed, puffed up with blustery indignation, as if sheer volume could overrule the truth.
She isn’t your wife yet, asshole.
Charlotte must have sensed something was wrong, or she wouldn’t have sought Tug out after she defended him to Candy. Which meant Candy still had a chance to get her sister away from this asshole. There was still a window—however small.
“I’m not the one lying here,” Candy yelled—though the niggling awareness that she was lying about Ren chased that declaration.
She stopped in front of Tug. He was a huge bull of a man. Massive and aggressive. His face was flushed, his blond hair seeming even paler in contrast to the red his skin was turning. Ham-like fists clenched at his sides—but Candy knew it would take her about two-point-two seconds to have him flat on his stomach screaming for mercy if he tried to lay a finger on her.
“You think if I was going to cheat on my fiancé, I would be so stupid as to do it in her grandfather’s house where anyone could walk in on us?” he challenged—as if the stupidity of getting caught were more offensive than bending Alicia over the desk on the night before he promised to love Charlotte till death did them part.
“I think you’re arrogant enough to think you can get away with anything you want if you just drown out the voices of truth and logic, but I’m not going away and I’m not changing my story. I know what I saw.”
She was vaguely aware of Ren appearing in the corner of her vision, his voice etched in the intense lines of threat assessment. “You got this, Candy?”
With one sliver of her awareness, she lifted one hand two inches, palm out toward Ren, to tell him to stand down, never taking her eyes or her focus off Tug. But Tug turned toward Charlotte, dismissing Candy.
“I would never sleep with her. She’s not even attractive to me—”
Scott coughed incredulously at that whopper. Alicia was a lot of things, but unattractive wasn’t one of them.