Kiss the Bride

by Jody Wallace

  What the hell was he dejected about? She was the one whose dreams had just been destroyed.

  Chapter Eight

  Heck kicked the bedspread to the floor with a curse, but he could still smell her.

  He could still feel her beneath him, soft and writhing, her pussy clasping his cock like she was made for him.

  He could still hear the echo of her cries.

  And he could still taste her cream, her tongue, her tears.

  Though he’d come twice tonight, his cock stiffened, jutting against the sheets. Unfortunately, Caroline was no longer here for him to put it to its preferred use, and he was way too upset to jerk off.

  She wouldn’t call off the wedding. Refused to call Dan, refused to admit her mistake. He’d tried to talk sense into her, pointing out that a good man wouldn’t expect his wife to dump her friends. In return, she’d yanked his chain about the wedding being canceled, but he knew what he’d overheard. You didn’t tell someone you loved them when you were breaking up with them. You didn’t hide something that huge from your friends at your own bachelorette party.

  Why the hell would she lie to him? Guilt? Shame? Jhi’s perverse influence? Maybe it was the only way she could think of to keep Heck from calling Dan and canceling the wedding himself.

  If he’d told her he was in love with her, would she have believed him? He’d had years to reach that conclusion, and he hadn’t. Until now. It had taken the prospect of her departure to shake it out of him. Mentioning his revelation the night before her wedding—in bed, no less—was severely on the nose. Oh, hey, by the way…

  If Caroline loved Dan and lost him over this, Heck was a bastard for screwing it up. At the same time, he hoped he had, because he wanted her for himself. Everything inside him jangled with frustration, bungled opportunity, and a raging desire to wring a certain neck that resembled a pencil.

  Who did Dan Armitage think he was? He never came around. Wouldn’t give her a ring, hated her friends. Wouldn’t even sleep with her, and it was like she didn’t care. She…

  She called Heck. They spent the time together she should have been spending with the man she was dating. The man she’d cheated on, with Heck’s help.

  By all rights, she should be in Heck’s bed at this very moment, laughing with him about how idiotic she’d been to consider picking Dan over him.

  He didn’t understand women. If Caroline didn’t love him after thirty-four years—and one night that blew every sexual experience he’d had out of the water—he couldn’t force her to. Couldn’t force her to choose him over Dan. He’d tried. And failed. When they’d waited for Jhi on the porch, she wouldn’t even use his tissues while she’d cried.

  Great, wrenching sobs that twisted his heart. It had been so hard not to grab her and beg for forgiveness.

  Why did he feel guilty anyway? He’d been manipulated and used. Hadn’t Caroline cared how he might feel about sleeping with her the night before her wedding? Whatever had driven her to his bed, he had no idea, but she’d told Jhi about it. It explained the rubbers in Caroline’s purse, her cleavage, her hugs and touches. It explained all the sneaky shit Jhi had been saying for weeks. About kissing the bride. About holding on to Caroline. About…

  Canceling the wedding. Heck wasn’t a praying man, but for five full minutes he asked the Lord to make it where Caroline had been telling the truth. The wedding was off. Caroline wasn’t leaving and didn’t hate him.

  But dawn tinged his bedroom window like a reminder that he was too stupid and too late. The clock kept ticking. The sun kept rising. He heard Caroline again, telling Dan she loved him.

  He didn’t understand women, but he did understand one thing. If Caroline got married today, there was no way he could stand at that altar and watch her step-pause-step-pause toward him, in that damned strapless dress—and promise to cherish another man at the end of the ceremony.

  His wedding handbook had recommendations for members of the wedding party who had to step down, but he was done with that crap, too. He texted Jhi to let her know she’d gotten what she wanted. She was now maid of honor.

  Unfortunately, because the reception was in his outbuilding, Heck couldn’t hide all day in his house. The caterers were scheduled for two, so he figured he could lock his doors and sleep until noon.

  Whereupon he was going to disappear until all this was over with.

  Everyone could gossip all they wanted about the fact that he would be conspicuously absent from the festivities. He didn’t care. He placed a few phone calls to let people know Sally was the sole contact person before unplugging his cell and landline. Nobody needed him, and he didn’t want any screeching about his change of plans.

  Finally, he popped an over-the-counter sleeping pill and went to bed.

  It felt like it had only been minutes when he heard the horn in his truck honk as the vehicle barreled up his driveway.

  The ting of gravel bounced off a fender, and a door slammed. Heck cursed and stumbled out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt as he went. There were only two people who might be driving his vehicle, and he suspected he knew which one this was. The one he really, really didn’t want to see, as opposed to the one he merely didn’t want to see.

  Someone pounded on the front door.

  “Open up, shithead,” yelled a female voice.

  He unlocked the dead bolt and yanked open the door. Jhi, as fresh as a damn daisy, stood there, hands on her hips. She wore the azure gown, and her hair had flowers in it.

  She must be en route to the wedding. Which meant it was on.

  Not that he’d doubted it, but Caroline had kept insisting, and…

  Dammit.

  The brilliant May sun blasted into him like a migraine. What time was it, anyway? He squinted at his unwelcome visitor. “What do you want?”

  “I thought I’d return your truck before you reported it stolen,” she said, eyebrow arched.

  He scraped a hand through his hair. “Should have given it back last night.”

  “I needed it to drive Caro home.”

  “I’m going back to bed.”

  “Plumb tuckered out, huh? I wonder why. By the way, I got your text.”

  “Nice of you to stop by and gloat.” He thought about slamming the door in her face. He wasn’t normally rude, but he made an exception for Jhi. A lot of people did. “I’m too tired for this. Are we done here?”

  “I’m done. You’re not.” She shook her head. “I said kiss the bride, not screw her over.”

  “Shut up.”

  “I would have come earlier, but I had to get the bride ready. The wretched bride.” She glared at him, and Heck glared back. “Did you tell her why you slept with her, Heck? Or did you let her think it meant nothing?”

  His hands fisted. “I’m not talking about this with you.” Though Caroline had talked to Jhi. Of course. She talked about everything with Jhi, and he was… By God, he was jealous.

  Why wouldn’t Caroline talk to him? Every time he’d attempted a serious conversation about her future, she’d brushed him off. Lied to him. Did she think he couldn’t understand emotions and girl stuff?

  Well, not all of it, but she hadn’t even let him try.

  “Did she tell you why she did it?” Jhi asked.

  “Nuh-uh.” If Caroline’s reason had been anything besides cold feet, Jhi wouldn’t be dressed for the wedding. “By that I don’t mean she didn’t tell me, I mean end of discussion.”

  “Do you love her?”

  “End of discussion,” he repeated forcefully.

  “I know you love her, jackhole. Did you tell her?”

  He scowled.

  “If you didn’t use the L-word, how would she know? Don’t be stupid and blow this. There’s only so many miracles I can pull out of my ass.”

  Heck blinked several times. It was on the tip of his tongue to insist that Caroline should just know after what they’d shared, but this was Jhi. She could be winding him up for the pleasure of watching him suffer. Caro could be perfect
ly content with her situation, and if he tried anything else drastic, he’d come off like a bigger fool than he already had.

  Another set of tires in the driveway, these slower. It was a car Heck didn’t recognize. Jhi glanced over her shoulder. “There’s my ride to the church, Herman. Are you going to speak now or forever hold your peace?”

  “Go to hell,” he said by way of farewell.

  The grandfather clock chimed out the half hour as Jhi left. Thirty minutes until the I-dos. Hold his peace forever. No Caroline in his life forever. Heck took a deep breath.

  He was miserable. He was hurt.

  He loved Caroline anyway.

  It was a twenty-minute drive to the First Methodist Church of Rattlesnake Holler, and goddammit, his shirt had no buttons and there was icing all over his tux.

  Driving far too fast for the downtown area—for any area—Heck skidded into a parking spot outside the church, his truck fishtailing. His heart thundered. Was he in time? He didn’t see a crowd, so the wedding must not be over. They must still be inside.

  He was not going to hold his peace. Hell. No. If he was late, well, divorces happened. He’d survived one, and so would she.

  Screw pride. He wasn’t losing Caroline without a fight. He should have told her as soon as he kissed her instead of letting her think his motivation was wrecking her wedding.

  His sole motivation, anyway. That had been part of it, and the rest had been passion.

  The blare of police sirens careered around the intersection of Main Street and Rattlesnake Holler Road. Excellent. Heck leaped out of the truck and bolted toward the tall white church. The guests inside would hear the sirens and pause the ceremony to find out what was going on. Lots of locals invited to the wedding. It’s not like they had their scanners in church with them. They wouldn’t want to miss anything.

  Already he could see folks popping out of the shops on Main Street, staring toward the church.

  Hot on Heck’s wheels, Officer Verne Goetz squealed to a stop, the patrol car crooked in the street.

  “What the hell are you doing, Heck? Stop right there,” he ordered.

  Heck raised an arm, waving it in a code he hoped Verne would understand. Just a minute, Officer. He had a wedding to crash.

  He flew up the steps three at time and hit the door running.

  Bounced off it.

  Goddamn. He seized the handles and rattled them with a good portion of his considerable strength.

  The fucker was locked. What the hell?

  His brain immediately flew to Jhi. She could have flipped the dead bolt inside, hoping he’d show.

  He didn’t care. Heck started bashing on the doors.

  “I object!” he bellowed. “Open up.”

  A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Heck whirled, ready to do battle with anyone who might try to stop him from telling Caroline how he felt. Verne dodged and threw up his fists.

  “I don’t want to pull my gun on you, Heck. What’s eating your ass?”

  “I’m late for the wedding.” He shook the doors again to demonstrate. “They fucking locked me out. I gotta get in there.”

  That’s when he realized something.

  Verne Goetz had been invited to the ceremony and had RSVP’d with a plus one. Yet here he was, in uniform and on the job.

  “Did you get called in to work?” Heck asked him. “You’re supposed to be in the church.” Just his luck. The town’s most hard-assed policeman was the one who’d caught him speeding and whom he’d sort of assaulted.

  Verne lowered his hands. “Shit, man, how could you not know? The wedding got called off. They phoned everybody this morning.”

  The residue from the sleeping pill, the high-speed car chase, and the sheer panic had jammed up Heck’s ears. “They did what?”

  “The wedding’s kaput.” Verne, one of the few guys Heck knew who was taller and broader than he was, unhooked his radio from his belt and muttered something about not needing backup. “You all right? You been, uh, doing a little drinking you want to tell me about?”

  “I’m sober.” He peered at the billboard outside the church, the one that should announce the time of the ceremony. Instead it said, “Oakenfield-Armitage wedding canceled.”

  The downtown area, on a nice Saturday like today, was far from vacant. A crowd had gathered. He recognized a number of people who’d been invited to the wedding, obviously not inside the church wishing the bride and groom a happy future.

  Front and center in the crowd was Jhi, filming him with her phone, a grin on her face so wide she looked like a jack-o’-lantern. She was still wearing the blue dress, but he doubted it was because she’d thought the wedding was taking place today.

  Caroline had been telling him the God’s honest truth. Jhi was the snake.

  And he was the judgmental idiot.

  “I need to give you a Breathalyzer,” Verne said. “Maybe have you walk a line for me. You going to cooperate?”

  “We’ll get to that,” Heck said in as respectful a tone as he could manage. “First, can you tell me how many years I’d get if I killed somebody who deserved it?”

  Verne rested a hand casually on his gun, and the sun sparkled off his sunglasses in a way that reminded Heck, unfortunately, of Officer Sexy. “Do you need to tell me something?”

  At least Verne hadn’t called him “boy.”

  “I haven’t killed anybody yet.” Heck pointed at Jhi, who waggled her smartphone at him. “I guess, since I’m telling you, it would be premeditated and that would make it worse.”

  “If you keep mouthing off like this, I’m going to take you down to the station.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” He didn’t want to add reckless endangerment or attempted murder to the speeding ticket and who knew what else Verne was going to throw at him. Hellfire. Caroline wouldn’t be the only one with a record. “Here’s the situation. I’m not drunk. I’m not going to kill anybody. I’m not even going to fight anybody. I’m just pissed.”

  “How pissed?”

  Heck didn’t know if he was furious, insane or…relieved. It felt like the sun had broken through heavy clouds and was shining on him, along with a heavenly chorus. However, the sun was annoying, and he wanted to punch the angels. “Not pissed enough to drive like that anymore. I didn’t know the wedding was canceled. That’s what I’m pissed about.”

  Verne removed his shades and tucked them into his collar. “I see.”

  “Somebody thought it would be funny to lie to me about it, and I was in a hurry to get here.” Adrenaline zoomed out of him as completely as it had entered, leaving him shaky. Heck lowered himself to the top step and dropped his head into his hands. “I feel dizzy.”

  Verne, his radio issuing the occasional bleep of static, waited to see if Heck had anything else to offer as an excuse for his behavior. “After you recover, I still need you to walk a straight line for me.”

  “Write the ticket. I’m not going to contest it. I was speeding.” Now that the wedding was off, Heck had some flexibility with the timing of his confession of love, but he didn’t want to put it off. It burned inside him like a hot coal, even hotter than how infuriated he was at Jhi.

  “I’ll write your ticket after the test.”

  “Gimme a break. I’m having some sort of stress attack.” Jhi, whom he couldn’t legally murder, might still be filming—he couldn’t see her from this angle—and he didn’t want his drunk test preserved for posterity. He also wasn’t sure what would happen when he stood up. His body felt like he’d galloped here instead of driven.

  “It’s not your choice.” Verne said something else into the radio, but Heck was too absorbed in his personal backlash to decode the numbers. “Come on, now.”

  “I don’t have time to mess with this.” Heck rose and headed for his truck, stumbling the first two steps but gaining strength and resolve. “I’ll walk a straight line to my vehicle, but I have places to be.”

  “Can’t let you do that, Heck.” Verne sounded sad.
>
  Heck shot him an outraged glare. If it wasn’t Jhi interfering, it was somebody else. “I’m going to find Caroline, Verne, not rob a bank or run down any little old ladies. I’ll watch my driving.”

  “I got a better idea. Put your hands on the car and spread your legs.”

  Heck froze. “Seriously?”

  Verne lowered his chin. “When have you ever known me to joke about the law?”

  The only saving grace was that Jhi had disappeared and nobody else felt it necessary to digitize the images of Heck Heckley, the responsible Heckley brother, getting patted down by Officer Verne Goetz before being transported to the station in the back of a patrol car.

  Chapter Nine

  Caroline flicked her cell phone off and realized there was a scream of frustration welling in her throat like a geyser. It frothed first and then rushed out of her with scalding heat.

  Was Heck’s phone broken? Was he checking caller ID and refusing to pick up? Did he hate her with every preachy fiber of his body?

  He wasn’t blameless in this. He’d jumped into bed with woman he’d assumed was engaged. He could have said no. He’d claimed it was wrong but sure as hell hadn’t denied wanting to bust up the wedding. Yet every time she dialed his cell and home phone, his lack of response felt like an indictment of her alone.

  Caroline screamed again and threw her empty plastic cup across the room. God, she was sick of punch already, but they’d paid for it. Gallons of it.

  High heels clipped through the house at a rapid pace. Jhi burst into the office where Caroline had hidden to call Heck. Though today had been one time-sensitive chore after another, Jhi had still found time to fix her hair in a style that resembled her bridesmaid’s coif, claiming it was her new favorite. It was now 10:00 p.m. That much hair spray wasn’t going anywhere until it got washed.

  “What’s the matter?” Jhi asked before her gaze dropped to the phone in Caroline’s hand. “Dammit, Caroline. Where’s your pride?”