Kitabı oku: «Do-Or-Die Bridesmaid»

Chapter One

The Methodist church was packed with enough guests that Conor could easily slide into the last pew without drawing attention to his arrival.

He’d convinced himself that taking a few vacation days and driving to Arlington for Joe and Lisa’s wedding was a necessary thing. It was a matter of pride to show them that he wasn’t so grief-stricken about his mother’s death or wounded by Lisa that he was too weak or vulnerable to wish them well.

So, here he was, in the flesh, back at the church where services for his mother had been held, the same church the Wildmans and the Karrs had attended growing up. Detective Conor Wildman was doing just fine on his own, thank you very much.

But he wasn’t going to make a spectacle of himself. He might be proving that he was a gracious loser, that he had made the right choice to move on, but those emotional scars were still fresh.

One of the hazards of standing six foot three, though, was that blending in wasn’t always an option. When Joe walked in from the waiting room beside the altar with his best man and a groomsman—one a fraternity brother he recognized from college, the other probably an accountant friend from work—he adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses on his nose and looked again, letting Conor know he’d been spotted. Joe beamed at seeing Conor in the back row near the exit. Conor offered his former college roomie a thumbs-up and a wry grin.

But when Joe took a couple of steps to come down the aisle toward him, Conor shook his head and pointed to the back of the church, reminding Joe of his priorities as the organ music finished with a dramatic flourish. The best man pulled Joe back into place, rubbing Joe’s shoulders and teasing him about putting the kiss-the-bride stuff ahead of the “I dos,” which sent laughter through the pews like a wave.

Conor didn’t laugh. The organist began playing the overture to the traditional processional. But he wasn’t ignoring the joke or appreciating the music so much as he was distracted by the sudden shuffle of commotion in the narthex just outside the sanctuary’s open doors. From his vantage point he could turn and see what the fuss was about while the congregation buzzed with chatter, waiting for the grand entrance of the bridal party.

“Put down your cell phone.” That terse whisper would be Lisa. Something wasn’t going according to her no-doubt meticulous plan for the day. Conor’s chest expanded with a steadying breath at hearing her voice again. He knew all her tones and what they represented. That one was her nervous-that-everything-is-about-to-fall-apart-but-I’ll-cover-my-fear-by-sniping-at-someone-else tone. “If she chooses not to be here to oversee the guest book, then...why isn’t Chloe here?”

“I don’t know. She isn’t answering. And no one’s seen her here at the church, either.” Since Conor didn’t immediately recognize the second woman’s voice, he tilted his head to get a glimpse of pink tulle curving over a generous flare of hips. Tulle and satin gave way to pink lace clinging to some very nice breasts that rose and fell with a huffy sigh. But bangs of short brown hair with caramel highlights and a netted glittery pink feathered headpiece pinned above her ear obscured the woman’s face. “I’d like to know where my friend is, too. Do you think Isaac knows?”

“Don’t go out there and ask him,” Lisa chided. “He’s already at the altar with Joe.” All he could glimpse of her was the hem of her lacy white gown as she paced beyond his line of sight. “I don’t care if she’s leaving me in the lurch. I care about you being the first one down the aisle.”

“Relax, dear. Aunt Sandra handled the guest book just fine.” Conor smiled as a familiar face joined the woman in the pink bridesmaid dress. Lisa’s petite mother and his own mom’s best friend, Leslie Karr. “Please, sweetie. It’s time. We can’t start the ceremony without you.”

Sweetie meant one of Lisa’s sisters. And since her older sister was as tall as Lisa, that meant the frilly pink bombshell was her younger sister, Laura. Um, bombshell? Conor remembered braces and blue jeans and tennis shoes. He never would have ogled Laura the way he’d been assessing her figure a few seconds earlier, and, in fact, would have gone all big brother on any guy who did let his eyes linger on her curves for that long. She was just a kid. Well, the Laura he knew had been like a kid sister to him.

But the attitude was familiar.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Laura protested. “You told me to find Chloe, and now I’m concerned because I can’t.”

A pregnant belly draped with more pink satin and tulle moved into the picture, blocking his view of Laura and her mother. Linda Karr-Colfax moaned and rubbed at the small of her back. A similar clip of feathers dangled from her upswept hair. “Mom? Ty was playing with my hair. Is this thing still in okay?”

“I thought we checked everything before leaving the dressing room,” Lisa scolded, while her mother secured the gaudy thing in Linda’s hair. “And do not have your baby today.”

Linda chuckled at her middle sister’s worry. “Take a deep breath, Lisa. They’re Braxton Hicks contractions. I’ve had them with all three babies. And neither of the boys came early.” She muttered something slightly less reassuring when a little boy in a black tuxedo somersaulted into the picture. Linda’s attorney husband followed with a sleeping toddler on his shoulder and pulled the boy to his feet. Linda brushed the dust off the tiny tux’s shoulders. “You only have to wear this for a little while, Timmy. Just until we take the pictures after the wedding. Where is your pillow with the rings tied to it?”

“Has he lost it?” Lisa’s long dress swirled into the tableau, but again his anticipation at seeing the beauty he’d loved was thwarted by the angle of the doorway.

Laura knelt in front of her nephew to hand him the embroidered white pillow. “Not lost. Here.” The little boy chortled with delight. Now that he had a clear view of that part of the lobby, Conor saw that there was a toy truck tied to the pillow, too. “You hold tight to that, and you won’t lose that pillow again, will you.”

Appeasing the youngster in the face of all the tension happening out there made Conor smile, too. “Nice move, Squirt,” he murmured under his breath, automatically thinking of Laura by the nickname he’d given her growing up.

But her smile faded a split second before she looked down at her phone and pushed to her feet.

More than noticing that she’d snipped off her long pigtails for a short, angular cut that hugged her jawline and played up the waves in her highlighted hair, and had traded her braces for a sweet, mischievous smile, he registered the frown lines that deepened beside her green-gold eyes. Baby Sister was really worried about something.

She texted something in response to the message she’d received.

“Laura! Phone!” Lisa pleaded.

“Sorry.” Laura turned it off and slid it beneath the lace of her gown to tuck it inside the sweetheart neckline.

“Seriously? You’ll ruin the look of the dress with that thing sticking out of your cleavage.”

“Like I don’t look like a piece of cotton candy, anyway.”

“Mother!”

Leslie Karr had handled bigger spats than this with her patient tone and knowing smile. “Laura, sweetie, let me put your phone in my purse.” With another lift of her bare shoulders, Laura did as her mother asked. After tucking the phone into her clutch purse, Leslie cupped her youngest daughter’s cheek. “You look beautiful today.”

Then Leslie turned, gently touching Linda’s belly as she smiled up at her oldest daughter. “You look beautiful.”

When she reached for Lisa, stepping out of Conor’s line of sight to hug her middle daughter, his breath hitched with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety at the thought of glimpsing Lisa again. But unless he leaned out into the aisle, making his presence more than obvious, he’d have to wait like every other guest to put eyes on the bride.

“Sweetie, you look beautiful. Joe is the luckiest of men. Take a deep breath.” Conor had always admired how Leslie had kept her three daughters in line. Such different personalities. Different activities all through school. Different emotional and parental needs. A little diplomacy, a little bargaining, a little bit of cajoling. But then she barked an order, and all three women snapped to attention, falling into line behind the young ring bearer. “Now. Everyone smile. Ron? Take your place. Here we go.”

Conor turned away from the scene in the lobby and finally found a reason to chuckle. Leslie Karr had a little bit of five-star general in her, too. He recognized that tone from his own mother’s bag of tricks when it came to raising him. His mom and Leslie had been such close friends—they’d probably traded parenting secrets.

Leslie walked down the aisle on the arm of an usher, followed by Tim Colfax and his son, the ring-bearer making vroom-vroom sounds as he carried the pillow by the truck.

Then he saw Laura. The moment she stepped into the sanctuary, their eyes met. Her mouth rounded with a startled O of surprise and he winked. The blush on her cheeks deepened to a rosy hue and her megawatt smile lit up the church. Yeah. The tomboy of the family had sure grown up. She made cute work on her compact, curvy frame. She fluttered her fingers in a friendly wave before hurrying over.

“Hi.” Those same fingers curled around his neck and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Hey, Squirt.”

Just as quickly as she’d kissed his cheek, she stepped away and fell back into line. She made a face and tapped her cheek, indicating he check his own face, before heading slowly toward the altar again.

Conor dutifully pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at the mark she’d left, leaving a smear of rosy pink lipstick on the white cotton. He was glad someone here could elicit a genuine smile from him. He folded the handkerchief and returned it to his pocket, letting his gaze follow Laura down the aisle.

Her cotton candy dress swirled around her calves, drawing his eyes down to slim ankles and strappy high-heels she wouldn’t have been caught dead in back when she’d been in middle school, hitching a ride with him to school activities before she could drive. Conor leaned back in the pew to do a little bit of math. Those memories had been from a decade ago. Laura had to be about twenty-five now, five years younger than him. She’d been at college when his breakup with Lisa had happened, and he’d moved away. He recalled now that she’d sent flowers and a heartfelt condolence letter to his mother’s funeral, but she hadn’t attended because something with work had kept her out of town. He’d have remembered the swing of those hips and that wire-free smile if he’d seen Laura recently. All grown up. Sharing little resemblance to her taller, willowy sisters beyond the changeable hazel color of her eyes.

He traded a smile with Linda when she entered the church. He pointed to her belly and whispered congratulations. Then the music changed and everyone in the congregation stood.

Conor buttoned his jacket and held his breath, waiting for that gut-check of recognition when he saw Lisa on the arm of her father. They paused for a moment at the back of the church. She was an elegant vision of sparkles and lace in her figure-hugging white gown. Yes, she was beautiful. But seeing her gaze seeking out Joe at the front of the church, her taut expression relaxing into a genuine smile, did more to bring closure to their relationship than her returning his ring ever had.

Hell. She didn’t love him. Not anymore. Certainly not the way he’d loved her.

He must have been scowling at the thought because when their gazes finally met, Lisa hesitated. She mouthed, “Are you okay? We’ll talk later.”

She was that worried about him? He wasn’t so hard up that he wanted a woman to settle for him just so he wouldn’t be alone in the world. If Lisa wanted Joe, she should be with Joe. He was man enough to accept that. Conor smiled before he doffed her a two-fingered salute and waved her on down the aisle to the man she loved.

And then she walked away from him. Again.

Where was the knife to the heart he’d been expecting? The fires of jealousy burning through his veins? He’d been so certain he needed to come here to save his pride, to prove to everyone in his old life he could be happy and successful without their interference, that the confusion he felt now was a little unnerving. As the guests sat and the ceremony started, Conor admitted he was melancholy that their long history had been tossed aside, his planned future altered.

But he wasn’t angry.

His mother’s illness and truly accepting that he and Lisa were never going to be left him feeling...empty.

Great. Understanding was a humbling thing. He hadn’t needed to prove anything to anybody but himself by coming here today.

But now that he’d admitted the truth, skipping out the back of the church was hardly an option, unless he wanted to start some real gossip or face more heartfelt letters of concern for his well-being. Just like a stakeout assignment, he was here for the duration of the ceremony and reception.

But he had a bad feeling that today was going to be a lot longer and more stressful than any stakeout.

* * *

“ARE YOU TALLER?” Conor smiled at the warm greeting and wound his long arms around tiny Leslie Karr, treasuring the maternal hug at his waist. “Conor Wildman, I think you’re taller. I’m not shrinking, am I?” Keeping one arm linked around his waist, Leslie turned to her husband beside her in the reception line. “Ron, am I shrinking?”

“No, dear. You’re as petite and perfect as always.” Ron Karr seemed to be taking the demands of the day in his familiarly patient stride. Probably a life skill learned from raising three daughters. He extended his hand. “I’m glad you could make it, Conor. It’s good to see you again, under happier circumstances.”

“Yes, sir.” Conor shook hands with the father of the bride. “Congratulations, Ron. How are you two holding up today?”

“Fine.” His forehead wrinkled with concern. “We should be asking you that question, though.”

Leslie patted Conor’s stomach, tsk-tsking between her teeth. “You’re thinner, though. Are you eating well? Taking care of yourself?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“He’s fit, Les, not skinny.” Ron patted the cummerbund of his tuxedo. “I’m the one you need to be fattening up.” At six feet, Ron Karr towered over his wife, but he still had to look up to meet Conor’s gaze. “She’s got me on some crazy diet where I eat weeds and straw five nights a week. She hasn’t baked me a pie in six months. Trust me, once it’s cut, I am diving into that wedding cake.”