Project: Runaway Bride

by Heidi Betts

  No matter what she ever did, how much trouble she might get herself into or how crazy she might act at times, she knew her sisters would always be there for her. They would accept her, support her and, just like now, welcome her with open arms.

  There was a lot of sniffing and blinking and happy laughter from the three of them as they separated, but it didn’t take long for her sisters’ expressions to turn accusatory. Lily even put her hands on her hips.

  “Where have you been?” she wanted to know. “We’ve been worried sick.”

  “Well, until Reid McCormack called to say he’d located you and that you were okay,” Zoe supplied. “Then we were just plain worried, especially when he wouldn’t tell us where you were or when you planned to come home.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry,” Juliet said, reaching for their hands and giving them each a squeeze so they would know just how sincere her apology was.

  “There’s...a lot going on, and I promise to tell you everything now that I’m back. But I couldn’t go through with the wedding and needed some time to myself to think about what I was going to do before I came home.”

  There was a heavy pause while Lily and Zoe considered that. And then Lily leaned in to give her another quick, hard hug.

  “We’re just glad you’re all right. And we’re ready to listen whenever you’re ready to share. Whatever it is that sent you running...” Lily gave a low chuckle. “Well, I’ve been there, done that. You forgave me for keeping secrets, and I’m sure Zoe and I can forgive you for yours. Right, Zoe?”

  Their youngest sister got an elbow to the ribs, which she took like a drama queen—yowling in feigned pain, rubbing her side, hitting Lily back. But under it all, Juliet knew that Zoe was equally happy to have her back and every ounce as there for her as Lily was.

  She made that clear when she grew serious and turned sky-blue eyes on her. “Girls in glass slippers shouldn’t throw stones. As long as you and Lily keep putting up with me, I’ll keep putting up with you.”

  Juliet gave her baby sister a watery smile before pulling her close. “Deal.”

  After a few more minutes of excessive hugging, Lily carried Juliet’s things farther into the apartment and said, “We were just fixing dinner. Do you want to go upstairs and unpack or maybe take a nap before we eat?”

  Juliet rolled her eyes in self-deprivation. “I’m pretty much napped out for the time being, believe me.”

  Lily and Zoe both gave her odd looks, but she waved them off. She would explain everything soon enough.

  “Let me take my stuff to my room, and then I’ll come back down and help. What are we having?”

  “Pizza,” the two of them singsonged at exactly the same time.

  “Perfect,” she said, and meant it.

  The scent of baking crust filled the loft. There would be mile-high veggies in deference to Zoe’s vegetarian preferences, and wine or soda or sometimes even beer while the three of them cozied up on the couch to watch a movie or talk about their weeks. In this case, she suspected she would be doing most of the talking while her sisters listened eagerly. And, boy, did she have a tale to tell!

  While Zoe and Lily returned to the kitchen, Juliet carried her overnight bag upstairs and put a few items away. Makeup bag on the bathroom vanity; dirty laundry in the hamper. She changed out of her lake house clothes and into a more comfortable pair of yoga pants and a soft, roomy cotton tunic top, the better to lounge around in while she caught up with her sisters.

  Heading back down to the main living area of the loft, she joined Zoe and Lily at the island, offering a hand wherever necessary. They made small talk the entire time, keeping things light. Juliet let Lily and Zoe fill her in on what they’d been up to since her failed wedding ceremony, saving her own long and winding tale until they were settled in with their meal and she could tell them everything they needed to know without interruption.

  An hour later, all three of them were perched cross-legged on the sofa with small plates of salad, large plates of piping-hot pizza and glasses of fizzing cola on the coffee table in front of them.

  It took five, maybe ten seconds from the time their butts hit the cushions for Lily to cock her head, pull a chunk of broccoli from the top of her slice and say, “Okay, spill,” before popping the green floret into her mouth.

  Taking a deep breath and realizing she was probably going to be doing a lot more talking than eating, Juliet started at the beginning and didn’t stop until she was well and truly finished.

  She told them about the first time she’d met with Reid at his office to discuss Lily’s disappearance, when she’d run off to Los Angeles to find out who was stealing her designs.

  She confessed her instant attraction to the too-handsome-for-her-own-good investigator, and the guilt she’d felt over thinking about him at all when she was already engaged to Paul.

  From there, she knew it wouldn’t be a terribly big leap for Lily and Zoe to see where the story was going. But she’d promised all, and so she told them. About Paul’s slowly increasing abuse, Reid’s discovery of bruises and his anger at her fiancé’s treatment of her, of that first night they’d spent together and how she’d broken up with Paul immediately afterward only to carry on a clandestine, nearly forbidden affair with Reid for the next few months....

  And she told them about the pressure she’d felt from Paul and their families to go through with the wedding after all.

  Finally, she admitted her reason—reasons?—for running away on her wedding day. The stick turning blue, and her rather sudden realization that she couldn’t walk down the aisle and say “I do” to Paul while carrying another man’s child. Especially while she still had feelings—as confusing, mixed up and jumbled as they were—for that other man.

  Juliet wasn’t sure what her sisters’—especially Zoe’s—record was for how many times they could utter “ohmigosh, ohmigosh, ohmigosh” in a row, but she was pretty sure they broke it. But even given their complete and total astonishment at her long list of admissions, when they finally stopped gaping like guppies, they zeroed in on exactly the right aspect of her narration.

  “You’re pregnant?” Zoe nearly squealed.

  Lily’s reaction didn’t include the squeal, but only because her smile was already so wide and beaming. “Oh, Juliet, that’s wonderful! Congratulations.”

  Almost simultaneously, they set aside their empty plates and cocooned her again in delighted sisterly embraces.

  When they pulled away, Lily tucked a loose strand of blond hair behind her ear and asked, “So have you told Reid about the baby?”

  Juliet nodded and filled them in on the rest—Reid tracking her down at the lake house, catching her in the most embarrassing throes of morning sickness and how she had to tell him about the baby whether she was ready or not. Then coming back to New York and staying with him until the doctor of his choice confirmed the pregnancy.

  “Oh, no,” Zoe groaned, covering her face with one hand. “We never should have asked him to help us find you. We messed up everything.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Juliet assured her, peeling her sister’s fingers from her eyes and giving them a squeeze. “I would have told him eventually anyway. He has a right to know he’s going to be a father after all. And it gave us a chance to work things out. For me to let him know I’m not going to ask him for anything, but won’t try to keep him away from the baby, either.”

  Lily’s brows dipped. “That’s it? You told him you were pregnant and all he said was ‘okay’?”

  Juliet rolled a shoulder, pretending her sister’s frank assessment of the situation didn’t bother her. “Pretty much. I don’t want him to feel trapped, and I’m not going to marry him just because I’m pregnant.”

  It was Zoe’s turn to furrow her brow. “He asked you to marry him?”

  Clearing her throat, Juliet avoided her sisters’ too-sharp scrutiny and leaned forward to retrieve her glass of soda. Taking a small sip, she said, “Yes, but I turned him down. He onl
y did it out of obligation, and I’m nowhere near ready to try to make it down the aisle again for all the wrong reasons.”

  That little revelation was met with silence as her sisters exchanged looks, but neither of them challenged her or tried to change her mind. A moment later, Lily nodded and Zoe reached out to pat Juliet’s knee.

  “Whatever you need, however you want to handle this, we’re here for you,” Lily told her.

  “And ohmigosh, we’re going to be aunts!” Zoe practically shrieked, bouncing up and down on the sofa cushion.

  There was another long stretch of laughter and talk of whether the baby would be a boy or a girl, nursery colors and themes and the like. Then, as they all filled their plates with a second slice of pizza, Juliet turned the conversation to serious matters once again.

  “Did Mom and Dad go home after the wedding was called off?” she asked.

  “They stuck around for a while,” Lily answered, “until we heard from Reid that he’d located you and you were safe. They weren’t thrilled when he wouldn’t say where you were, but we told them we’d stay on top of things and keep them informed along the way. That was enough to convince them to go back to Connecticut, but they call every single day to see if we’ve heard anything new from or about you.”

  The icky, oily feeling of guilt slid through Juliet, and she lowered her gaze to the floor. “I need to go up there and see them. Apologize.” Lifting her head, she sighed. “I should talk to Paul, too.”

  “You don’t owe him anything,” Zoe snapped, anger lighting her blue eyes.

  Lily’s own protective frown was nearly a mirror image of their younger sister’s. “I agree. He deserves a good, swift kick to the you-know-what, not an apology.”

  “I can’t argue with you there,” Juliet murmured. “I should have broken things off with him so much sooner.”

  “The minute he laid a finger on you,” Zoe grumbled.

  “Absolutely,” Juliet conceded, still wondering why she hadn’t. “And stuck to the decision the first time I told him I didn’t want to marry him instead of convincing myself to give him another chance. But leaving him at the altar was a lousy thing to do. I feel like I should at least see him face-to-face and tell him I’m sorry for any embarrassment I caused.”

  “Humph,” Zoe huffed.

  “If you’re set on doing that,” Lily said, “I think one of us should go with you.”

  “I’ll do it!” Zoe declared with a bounce. “I’ve got nothing better to do, but somebody needs to stay here and take care of the store, and Nigel is flying in from Los Angeles soon, so I know you’ll want to be here for that,” she said to Lily.

  Then she wiggled her brows and shot Lily a teasing grin. “Just think—you’ll have the whole loft to yourselves.”

  “Well, that certainly would be nice,” Lily replied with a smile and a faint hint of color rising to her cheeks.

  Rolling her eyes in amusement, Zoe said, “Do me a favor, though—Lysol any public surfaces when you’re done. I don’t need to eat my corn flakes at the kitchen island knowing my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s bare butt was on it first.”

  Eleven

  If there was one thing Reid excelled at, it was compartmentalizing. He had no problem waking up in the morning, getting dressed and ready and heading into the office. He had no problem putting his head down and focusing on work all day, not letting a single thought of Juliet or the baby throw him off his stride.

  It was only once he returned home to his big, quiet, empty brownstone that he lacked enough distractions to keep those thoughts from popping straight to the forefront of his brain and taking up residence like characters on a movie screen.

  There was no fire in the hearth of his study, but that didn’t keep him from taking a seat in front of it and cracking open a fresh bottle of scotch while he stared at the unlit logs and let the liquor’s heat kick down his throat and into the pit of his stomach. At the rate he was going with this evening ritual of his, he figured he might have to buy stock in his favorite drink manufacturer or acquire a distillery and start making his own.

  He remembered another night spent in this room not so very long ago. There had been a fire blazing bright in the fireplace then, snow falling lightly outside, but instead of scotch, they’d been drinking wine.

  It had been one of the nights he and Juliet had agreed to meet after work in secret, even though she’d already called off her engagement. There was no reason to sneak around any longer, but she’d insisted.

  She’d arrived by taxi, wearing a long coat, hat, a scarf and a pair of dark, large-rimmed sunglasses similar to the ones he’d bought for her to wear to the doctor’s office even though they were hardly needed on a dreary winter evening. He’d met her on the stoop, sweeping her inside and into his arms for a deep, mouthwatering kiss. Kicking the door closed with his foot, he’d lifted her up Rhett Butler–style and carried her to his room, never taking his lips from hers.

  They’d made love fast and furiously that first time. Hot and desperate and passionate. Hell, maybe it had been even twice...as much as they’d tangled up the sheets and steamed up the windows, and as many times as they’d rolled around, switching places, lingered and then started over, the exact details were a little blurry.

  What was crystal clear in his mind, however, was the silken smoothness of Juliet’s flesh beneath his hands and mouth. The musky floral scent of her perfume and hair and natural essence. The way she felt in his arms and how he felt when he was with her, inside her, lying next to her in the aftermath.

  And he remembered how comfortable he’d been with her even when they weren’t making love. Talking on the phone late at night when no one else was around, or hearing her voice over his office line in the middle of the day. Sitting across from her at his kitchen table while they raided the refrigerator to fill their bellies after the rest of their bodies were thoroughly sated.

  Which was how they’d ended up in his study, sharing a bottle of wine in front of the fireplace. As though it were yesterday, he remembered the ivory camisole and panty set she’d been wearing beneath one of his wrinkled dress shirts, and the black silk pajama bottoms he’d stepped into before they’d come downstairs.

  After grabbing something to eat, he’d collected the wine and their glasses and carried them into the study, where he’d found a spot on the rug in front of the fire and sat with his back against the base of one of the leather armchairs. Juliet had waited while he poured more of the rich chardonnay, then lowered herself into the crook of his legs.

  She’d snuggled back against his chest, her head resting on his shoulder, and it had been the most natural thing in the world to bring his arms up and wrap them around her waist.

  He didn’t know how long they stayed that way, simply enjoying the silence, the crackle of the hearth, the occasional sip of wine and each other. As far as he was concerned, everything had been just about perfect. He’d even been thinking that he wouldn’t mind having Juliet around more, maybe on a permanent kind of basis.

  That wasn’t something he’d considered since Valerie had walked away with their child. He’d dated, had numerous short-term affairs, but never once had the idea of making any one of those relationships long-term crossed his mind.

  Then came Juliet. The wrong woman at the wrong time. Rife with conflict and secrets and lies. Yet he couldn’t seem to stay away from her.

  So maybe he shouldn’t try. She was the one woman he could actually see himself spending the rest of his life with, so maybe it was time to cut out the minutiae. Maybe it was time to look beyond his past, her present, all the things that kept them apart on paper. In reality, it was probably only a matter of reprioritizing and deciding that this—whatever it was between them—was worth fighting for.

  He cleared his throat, shifted slightly, preparing himself for the whole we-need-to-talk, let’s-take-the-next-big-step speech when Juliet twisted sideways in his lap so that her legs draped over his half-bare thigh. He moved with her, adjusting to the ne
w position with a raised knee and one arm behind her back. She rested against them, easy and comfortable.

  “Reid,” she said softly.

  “Mmm-hmm?”

  He knew what he wanted to say to her—well, in general terms, if not the exact wording—but if she had something on her mind, he was happy to talk about that first. Maybe it would buy him some time and help him get his own thoughts in order.

  She took a deep breath, one he felt shudder through her delicate frame, and he held her closer, rubbing her arms in case she was growing chilled.

  Without looking at him, she said, “You can’t know how much all of this has meant to me. Being here with you, spending time together.”

  He tightened his hold on her even more. She might be getting cold, sitting on the floor in little more than her underwear, despite the fire burning only a few feet away, but he was rapidly growing warm with contentment.

  Sadly, the sensation didn’t last long.

  “But I can’t see you anymore,” she added, dousing him with the verbal equivalent of a cold shower in Antarctica.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, twisting to face him while he sat as still as a marble statue. “We knew this was only temporary and probably shouldn’t have started in the first place. It’s time to stop.”

  Shock and numbness gave way to understanding and the white-hot charge of anger. “You’re going through with it, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “The wedding. To that jackass.”

  Juliet pulled away, climbing carefully to her feet. “No, that’s not what this is about.”

  “Really?” he asked sharply, disbelief evident in his tone. He pushed himself to his feet, standing mere inches from her. He wanted to reach out and grab her, but curled his hands into fists at his side instead, afraid he might shake her if he touched her at all. Either that or kiss her stupid so she would stop all this nonsense talk about leaving.

  “Of course not. It’s not a contest, Reid. If it were, you would have won. I called off the wedding and broke up with Paul to be with you these past several weeks.”