Runaway Christmas Bride

by Cindi Madsen

  About the Author

  Cindi Madsen is a USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romance and young adult novels. She sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting, revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.

  Runaway Christmas Bride

  Cindi Madsen

  PIATKUS

  First published in the US in 2018 by Grand Central Publishing, a division of Hachette Book Group USA Inc. in the anthology Christmas With You

  First published in Great Britain in 2018 by Piatkus in the anthology Christmas With You

  This ebook edition published in 2019

  Copyright © 2018 by Cindi Madsen

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978-0-349-42169-8

  Piatkus

  Little, Brown Book Group

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.littlebrown.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  Contents

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  This was the day she’d dreamed about for so long, of having a winter wedding and being a Christmas bride. Then all her plans, her future—everything she’d been so sure about—had been ripped away the instant her groom had looked at her and said, “I’m sorry, Regina. I just can’t. I can’t marry you.”

  Naturally he’d chosen to say it while they were standing at the front of the chapel, their family and friends all witnesses as she was dumped at the altar. Her bridesmaids had tried to stop her from fleeing the scene, but she’d needed out of there so she’d hopped in her car—decorated with streamers and cans, and don’t even get her started on the “Just married!!!” written in white shoe polish on the back window. The stupid, overly cheery phrase taunted her every time she glanced in the rearview mirror.

  Tears had streamed down her face as she’d driven north. She wasn’t even sure how long she’d been on the road or where she was—she was almost sure there’d been a sign about entering Massachusetts—but the tears had finally mostly dried up. The gas tank was about to go dry too, which meant she needed to stop soon.

  I should’ve seen this coming. Steve had always told her she didn’t know how to relax and have fun. They’d had fights about having fun—talk about the opposite of a good time. He thought she was too structured, and she thought he needed more organization and responsibility in his life. Silly her, she’d thought that was why they would make a good pair. Their weaknesses were each other’s strengths, and wasn’t there something poetic in that? She thought love would smooth out the times they grew irritated at their differences.

  Perhaps, over the past few crazy months, she’d been a little too fixated on plans and the future instead of the groom. Still, he could’ve pulled her aside a dozen times to tell her he wanted to call off the wedding. It would’ve stung, sure, but there was stinging and then there was feeling naked and exposed in front of your family and friends.

  We were supposed to be spending Christmas on the beach, and now I’ll spend it all alone.

  A figure on the side of the road caught her eye. She’d never been able to walk by someone in need without handing over any spare change she had, and while her parents had made her promise to stop picking up hitchhikers unless she at least had company, she couldn’t leave the guy standing there with his thumb up. Not with the brewing snowstorm, and not when she’d experienced enough desperation today to have empathy for someone else who might be in a dire situation.

  Regina slowed the car and pulled onto the side of the road. An icy gust of air whooshed inside as she unrolled the window, and she shivered, her bare shoulders breaking out in goose bumps. She’d worked so hard to get extra definition in her arms, and while she had a fluffy white wrap to go over her dress, she’d abandoned it like the rest of her wedding.

  “Need a ride?” she asked, which she supposed was unnecessary considering most people didn’t hail cars if they didn’t need a ride.

  A scruffy guy, wearing a dirty, worn beanie with holes and a coat that had seen better days, stuck his head inside. His bloodshot eyes widened as he took in her wedding dress. She could only imagine how crazy she looked, driving a car in poofy layers of white tulle, her veil batted back over pinned curls she felt coming undone, her professionally applied makeup a smeared mess by now, no doubt. “I’d love a ride,” he said. “Just down the way.”

  “Hopefully, not too far down the way. I’m running low on gas.”

  “It’s about fifteen miles, give or take. Friendship is a pretty small town, but you can refill your car and stop and have some dinner. Like its name suggests, there are a lot of friendly people there. It’s sort of my makeshift home for now,” he said with a chuckle. “House or not.”

  Regina assumed that meant he didn’t have a house, and a pang of sympathy went through her. Here she was feeling sorry for herself because she’d wasted money on an extravagant wedding that had fallen through, and this guy didn’t have a place to live. “I’ll gladly take you there.”

  He grabbed a worn bag and eyed the backseat, probably thinking she’d rather have him there. She wasn’t sure what proper etiquette in this situation was, possibly because there wasn’t any.

  “Feel free to sit up front,” she said. “I don’t bite. I might cry, though, so I hope that doesn’t scare you.”

  “I think I can handle a few tears.” He settled into the passenger seat, and she cranked up the heater as he reached out to warm his hands. He smelled like it’d been a while since his last bath. “Anything I can do to help?”

  She shrugged. “I could use a new groom,” she said with a mostly sarcastic laugh. Apparently it wasn’t quite funny yet. “Or maybe what I need is the desire to never have one.” All her life she’d pictured her future self with a loving husband and a couple of children, an idyllic little family who often laughed together.

  “You’ll find somebody. Somebody who deserves you and will love you for you.” The confidence in his voice assured her, despite the fact that he had no way of knowing something like that.

  “Thank you.” She extended her hand. “I’m Regina, by the way.”

  He shook her hand, one firm shake that convinced her he was of good, solid character. Sometimes you could just tell. “Gabe.”

  After carefully checking over her shoulder for oncoming traffic, she pulled onto
the freeway. Or was it a highway? Come to think of it, there hadn’t been another car in forever, and the road looked too dinky to be an interstate.

  Well, that’s mildly disconcerting. Then again, on a scale of one to sucky, it couldn’t compare to the rest of her day. But if she thought about that too much, she’d start crying again, so she made small talk with Gabe.

  He wasn’t a man of many words, answering most of her questions with a simple yes or no, but it helped pass the time. Then he pointed out the turnoff into Friendship, its big happy sign greeting them as they officially entered town. Flurries danced through the air, falling to the window in pretty white puffs, and she glanced at the time.

  She’d been driving for almost seven hours without so much as one bathroom stop, and now that food had been mentioned, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. On top of the exercising, she’d been on a low-sugar diet, one that basically meant that if a food brought you joy, it was out. She’d kept motivated on the treadmill by thoughts of her gorgeous, tiered wedding cake with the spongy chocolate goodness waiting under the fluffy white frosting. She’d told herself it’d be that much better after a month of no sweets, and since she hadn’t had so much as a taste, she was planning on ordering dinner and dessert. Maybe even two desserts.

  Considering the looming storm, she should probably also think about settling somewhere for the night. Not only did she hate driving in the snow, she wasn’t used to it and didn’t have the vehicle or the tires for it.

  Regina turned down Main Street, heading toward the lights of the town, which appeared to be even tinier than she’d expected. “Does this place have a hotel?”

  “The Snowflake Inn’s on the other side of town and is usually pretty booked,” Gabe said, “but there’s a nice B and B nearby called the Cozy Cottage, and I’m sure they have an open room or two.”

  All she needed was a bed. “Sounds perfect.” Tomorrow she’d make a different plan, a new sensation for someone who lived and died by them. “If you need a room, I could—”

  “Thank you, Regina, but you’ve done enough for me. In fact, if you’ll just drop me off up here, that’d be great.”

  Gabe’s steady presence had been comforting, and it was odd how sad she was they had to part ways already. She could tell a good soul when she met one, and in spite of her misguided choice of groom, she still believed her gut instincts were good.

  Once she’d stopped the car, Gabe gathered his stuff and flashed her a warm smile. “You should stop by Grumpy’s Bar and Grill a few blocks down. The food’s amazing, and trust me, you won’t be sorry.”

  “Grumpy’s in Friendship?”

  “Yeah, the owner has quite the sense of humor. But don’t let that scare you. Best food in town.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t tell Fern I said that.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” Regina said with a laugh. Especially since she didn’t know Fern and doubted she’d come across her in her short stay here. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food, though, making its vote known. Striding inside a restaurant in a wedding dress was a special kind of crazy, but it was like her brain couldn’t even entertain the thought of stopping and changing first. Not that she had anything besides clothes meant for the tropics anyway. “Nice meeting you, and good luck with everything. And happy holidays.”

  Was that stupid? His holidays might not be happy, and she wanted to make them better, even if she didn’t know how.

  “Happy holidays,” he said, and then he closed the door and she was alone again. Just her and her wedding dress and her decked-out car that looked like Cupid threw up on it.

  It’d been a long day, and Emmett wanted to kick back and relax with a late dinner at Grumpy’s. As sheriff of Friendship, he was never truly off work, but at least his job in this sleepy town mostly involved giving gentle reminders to abide by the rules and arbitrating minor disputes.

  Of course, a few citizens remained sore at him when he didn’t automatically pick their side. More than once he’d been told, “But you’ve known me for decades/most of my life/since high school!” Today was one of those days, and Fern Simpson didn’t seem to care he’d known the other party for equally as long—both citizens had a decade or two on him, so he’d known them pretty much since birth.

  As if having the town’s B&B owner mad at him wasn’t enough, Fern’s daughter had jumped in to defend her mom’s side of the debate, so now he had two females irritated with him. Fern had also been nice enough to remark that he was always in a sour mood these days. He couldn’t exactly deny it, though he also couldn’t pinpoint why.

  As he entered Grumpy’s, he heard a blend of voices yelling “cheers,” and within seconds, he sensed the vibe was different somehow.

  And that was before he noticed the woman in the wedding dress seated among the regulars. All he could make out from here was dark hair and a whole lot of white fabric. The bartender’s gaze met Emmett’s over the top of her head, and he gestured him over.

  Three seconds in, and something tells me there’ll be no relaxing dinner in my future.

  “I think it’s time to cut her off,” Grumpy sternly said when one of the guys requested that he pour her another shot.

  A drunken disorderly bride. That was a new one. Emmett racked his brain for who was getting married, but he didn’t recall any upcoming weddings, and those types of celebrations usually involved the entire town—whether or not the bride and groom technically invited them.

  The woman rocked on her stool and then gripped the bar. “Thass prob-ly a good idea. I … Where’d my fries go? Didn’t I have fries?”

  All he’d wanted was a burger and a few minutes of quiet before he went home and crawled into bed. Emmett raked a hand through his hair and moved closer to the rowdy group. “You heard him. Let’s give her a little breathing room and get her some water. Has she had food?”

  “Jeez. Someone’s a party pooper.” She giggled and wobbled again. She remained facing forward as she focused on regaining her balance, and while he hadn’t gotten a good look at her yet, he didn’t recognize her. “But have no fear, I’ve had all the things. These guys made sure I was taken care of and had lots of drinks to choose from.”

  He scowled at the men lining the bar. “You guys bought her drinks? How many did you think she needed?” If he didn’t know the crowd so well, he’d be angry, assuming they were trying to get her drunk, but since these were guys he’d grown up with, he leashed his anger, hoping he wouldn’t have to let it out once he got the full story.

  Guilt bled into their features, and Jack spoke up. “Some jerk left her at the altar, and we took it upon ourselves to welcome her to town and to help cheer her up.”

  “We didn’t know she was a lightweight,” Corbin added.

  She smacked her palm on the bar. “See? I can be fun!”

  “Well, I can’t,” Emmett muttered. He put his hand on her arm and slowly spun her around so he could assess just how drunk she was.

  Her gaze moved to the handcuffs on his belt, and her eyes widened. “Are you gonna arrest me?” She tipped her face up to him, and he got caught up staring at her delicate features and big blue eyes, and man, she was pretty. He had the urge to cup her cheek and assure her everything would be okay, and then he wondered what had gotten into him and tried to shake off the surge of attraction—the woman had just been left at the altar. She was wearing a wedding dress, for goodness’ sake.

  Her shoulders slumped. “Perfect. Might as well end this crappy day in jail.”

  She attempted to stand. One of the legs of the stool pinned her skirt to the floor, so she tugged at the material. It came free, and she stumbled right into him. “Oof!” She braced her hands against his chest to steady herself. Then she turned her arms over, extending her wrists and accepting her fate—like he’d really cuff her. He only handcuffed belligerent offenders, and that was usually for their own good.

  Emmett frowned down at her, telling himself to stifle the spark that ignited deep in his gut. “I’m not going
to arrest you. I’ll take your car keys though.”

  Her mouth dropped, and judging by the offense in her features, maybe he’d underestimated her ability to get belligerent. “I’d never drive like this! I can’t believe you’d think I’d drive while under the influence, something I hardly ever am, by the way.”

  Funny enough, this was the second time he’d been accused of believing bad things about someone today, but at least he’d actually known the other party. “Not something I’d know, ma’am.”

  She scowled and flopped back onto the stool. “Well, now you do. Plus, I’m not sure where my purse is anyway, and my keys are somewhere in there, and …” Her eyebrows drew together, and she rubbed her forehead. Evidently it didn’t help, because she dropped her head on the bar and groaned. “I’m supposed to be on my way to Jamaica. Nice, warm Jamaica.”

  “You must’ve taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque,” he said, because his grandparents had raised him on Bugs Bunny cartoons and it’d just sort of popped out.

  Sputtered laughter shook the brunette’s shoulders. “So that’s where I went wrong.”

  Emmett exhaled and gestured for Corbin to move off the stool next to her so he could occupy it. “Look …”

  “Regina,” she supplied, her forehead still on the bar, which couldn’t be comfortable, although it didn’t seem to bother her.

  “Regina. I’m Sheriff Haywood.”

  “If it’s okay with you, I’m just going to call you Sheriff Party Pooper.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Not really okay with me.”

  She twisted her head and blinked at him, her cheek on one of those cardboard coasters Grumpy handed out but nobody used. “Not really surprised.”

  He fought back a smile. There was something about her underneath the layers of sadness and alcohol, and there he went, having the urge to touch her again—cheek, shoulder, a comforting hand to her back. He wasn’t picky.

  Focus, Haywood. “As I was saying, I’m glad to hear you wouldn’t drive under the influence.” Most people needed reminders about the laws now and then, especially in this town where they thought the small size and the fact that they’d known him forever left certain laws open to interpretation. “I’m happy to give you a ride to wherever you’re staying tonight.”