In the Line of Fire (2 page)

She'd already told him twice in the car on the way from picking him up at the airport. Damn, just two hours later and he'd have been too late to make the wedding. As good as it was to be in the familiar house he'd grown up in with his grandmother's antique trunk against the den wall and all the family photographs spread throughout, he'd rather be back in Afghanistan than here.

His sister, Mattie, a little over a year younger than Colton, and back at home with their mother after her recent divorce, closed the door behind them. “I'm going to change,” she said, excusing herself.

Mattie had been subdued, but he also knew from her emails that moving back home had been a difficult adjustment.

“You need the bathroom?” he asked.

“No, it's all yours,” she said.

Colton nodded, heading across the den toward the stairs. “I'll hop in the shower then.”

“Make sure you shave,” his mother said.

She'd lobbed the same admonition his way since peach fuzz had appeared on his chin years ago. At thirty-two, Colton really didn't need to be reminded to shave. Nonetheless he gave the response she expected. “Yes, ma'am.”

He started up the stairs to the landing that led to his and Mattie's bedrooms and a guest room that doubled as his mother's sewing room.

“We'll be ready to go in forty-five minutes,” his mother said from the foot of the stairs. “You can ride with us.”

Anyone who knew anything about Southern women realized that while the ideal was put forth that the men were in charge, it was actually the women who ran the show. Making the men
think
they were in charge was just part of the game. Until he died from a heart attack five years ago, Colton's father had been under that very misguided ideal. However, his mother didn't bother to even let Colton think he had a say-so in matters.

Hell no on this, however. He had his limits. “I'll go, but I'll drive the Buick.” His father's sedan still sat in the garage. His mother took care of regular oil changes and tire rotations. Walking Andi down the aisle and then sitting through the wedding was one
damn thing, but standing around a reception while she and her groom shoved cake in one another's mouths, toasted a long and happy future and then took to the dance floor together was another matter. Not only would Colton drive his own car, he'd make damn sure he wasn't blocked in and could hightail it out of there as soon as the I-do's had been exchanged.

Forty-five minutes later he followed his mother and Mattie down one of Savannah's numerous broad avenues overhung with oak trees draped in Spanish moss. After months in Afghanistan, he definitely appreciated Savannah's refined lushness of sprawling oaks, palms, verdant lawns and azaleas bursting with early-spring blooms.

How long did weddings typically last? Half an hour at the max? That's what he was counting on. He'd head home, change clothes and then mosey down to Ray-Ray's Bar and Grill where he could pick up a beer and a game of pool. His mother and Mattie would be tied up with the reception for hours afterward so they wouldn't even miss him.

His sister and mother pulled into the parking lot of the historic mansion that now served as a special-events location, primarily weddings. Architecture wasn't his thing so he didn't know if it was Italianate Renaissance or Greek Revival, but it was truly a mansion with a soaring facade that overlooked one of Savannah's more picturesque fountained squares. Colton supposed the house and grounds were nice
enough for weddings and stuff, but the parking was a disaster area.

Not wanting to chance being blocked in, he circled the block and lucked out. A florist's van was just pulling away on the side street that offered access to the house through the side garden and rear parking area. He backed the Buick into the parallel parking spot.

He climbed out of the car and locked the door. All he had to do was make it through the next forty-five minutes then he was out of here, and Andi would be married to someone else.

“H
OW ABOUT A
mother-daughter photo here?” Marlena, the photographer, said, indicating Daisy and Andi should move away from the tufted ottoman in the dressing room. Marlena had been snapping candids left and right the entire time Andi, her bridesmaids and her maid of honor had their hair and makeup done and got dressed in the third-floor bridal suite.

The suite consisted of two elegantly appointed rooms with antique sofas, gilt-framed artwork, thick, fringed Oriental rugs over gleaming hardwood floors, and richly trimmed drapes framing the hundredyear-plus windows, plus an equally elegant tiled bathroom.

Marlena positioned them in front of the brocadecovered sofa. “Now, if you'll look at one another,” she instructed.

Andi smiled at her mother, “You look great in that pink silk shantung, Mom.”

“You just look beautiful, Andi,” her mother said, tears glimmering in her eyes. Andi did rather feel like a princess. Her dress was truly lovely. It had been the first one she'd found when she went shopping. It suited her and the wedding setting.

It had an old-fashioned feel to it with a high collar in the back and a sweetheart neckline. The fitted bodice flared out into a full skirt with yards of tulle underlay. It was awkward as anything to get into and out of since, rather than a zipper, it buttoned all the way from the neck to the curve of her hips with small pearl buttons. It was equally awkward to sit with all the tulle layers but it was truly a beautiful dress, and she almost didn't recognize herself when she looked at her reflection.

The dress was spectacular, and Linda, the hair-dresser, had artfully arranged her normally unruly red hair into an updo of curls. Diane, Linda's assistant, was equally genius with makeup. Out of nowhere the idea popped into Andi's head that Colton probably wouldn't recognize her if it weren't for the fact it could only be her in the wedding dress since it was her wedding. It was a silly thought and she turned her attention back to her mother.

Andi squeezed Daisy's hand. “Don't cry. Your makeup is perfect.”

Daisy laughed. “There's no way I'm going to make it through this without boo-hooing anyway.”

“Well, wait until you've been escorted down the
aisle and everyone sees how great you look,” Andi said, determined to keep an upbeat note. She'd discovered at an early age the best way to keep her mother on an even keel was to keep things light and upbeat. And her mother on an even keel was definitely the desired outcome. Andi had spent the majority of her teenage and adult life avoiding another “episode” like her mother had had when Rion had left for college and the military.

“Perfect,” Marlena said, snapping a rapid succession of shots. Beverly, the wedding planner's assistant, opened the door and stuck her head in. “Okay, ladies, it's time. I need the mother of the bride, the bridesmaids and the maid of honor downstairs now.” She smiled brightly at Andi. “And you, ma'am, can come down in about ten minutes. We don't want any last-minute guests to see your gorgeous self yet and I understand your escort should be here momentarily so Sonya will need a few minutes to go over his duties with him.”

Andi's stomach clenched and her pulse immediately accelerated. Colton was almost here. She felt breathless and anxious all at once, but then most brides probably felt this same way when they were ten to fifteen minutes away from strolling down the aisle. She pasted on a smile and hugged her mother, careful not to smear their makeup or damage their dresses. She squeezed the hands of her five friends and her cousin Emma as they left the room, sincerely
telling each of them how beautiful they looked and how happy she was they were here to share this with her. The pale lavender, empire-waist gowns worked with everyone's complexion and body types. She'd gifted each of them with teardrop freshwater pearl-and-amethyst earrings she'd crafted herself.

And then the room was empty except for Andi and Marlena. Without the noise and general mayhem of everyone else around, butterflies erupted in her stomach and she began to sweat.

“Let's get a few shots of just you.” Marlena led her over to one of the windows overlooking the side garden and street below. “Here, just look out the window, wait, tilt your head up just a tad, perfect. Look out and let your mind wander. If you feel pensive, that's fine, brides often are at this moment and it makes for lovely pictures.”

Outside it was a flawless March day. White, fluffy clouds danced across an endless blue sky. Below, the trees swayed in the breeze. A movement on the sidewalk caught her eye. Colton, carriage erect, wearing his dress-blue uniform, entered the gate leading from the sidewalk to the garden. He closed it behind him and crossed the lawn, heading toward the front of the mansion.

Without warning or preface, the truth slammed into Andi with the force of a tsunami. She swayed on her feet and steadied herself with her hand to the windowsill. It wasn't as much a thought as it was a
knowing that filled her. She hadn't gotten over Colton Sawyer—far from it.

She loved him. She was in love with him. She'd never felt one whit of what she felt looking at him now for Blanton. This wasn't a crush. This was love, soul-deep that wouldn't fade or go away with time. This was how she
should
feel about Blanton in order to take the vows she was about to. But the truth was undeniable—what she felt for Blanton didn't begin to touch what she felt for Colton.

Her mind whirled. She couldn't marry Blanton when she felt this way about another man. That simply wasn't fair to Blanton, or to her.

“Are you okay?” Marlena said, startling Andi. She'd forgotten the photographer was even there. “You look as if you've seen a ghost.”

Andi mustered a smile. “I'm fine. But I'd like a minute or two alone, please. If you want to go on down, I'll be there shortly.”

“Sure,” Marlena said, but she looked hesitant. “Can I get you a glass of water or something before I go?”

She just wanted Marlena to leave so she could think uninterrupted, but Andi managed a weak laugh. “I don't dare drink in this dress. The bathroom isn't the easiest thing to manage.”

Marlena grimaced. “I bet. Okay, I'll see you downstairs in just a minute.” She closed the door behind her.

Finally. Andi was alone. What was she going to do? She couldn't in good faith go down there and promise to love Blanton till death do they part when she didn't, couldn't and wouldn't love him that way. She desperately needed to talk to someone, but all of her closest friends were downstairs waiting on her to make her appearance. A maelstrom of emotions rolled through her: guilt, elation, uncertainty over what to do, although there was no uncertainty regarding her feelings for Colton. She felt vulnerable and raw, but also, conversely, strong and empowered.

Think, Andi, think. But her only thought was she had to get out of here and now. She couldn't marry Blanton when she didn't love him and she felt too raw and open to face everyone or anyone. She rooted through her purse, pulling out her driver's license, credit card, debit card and the whopping ten-dollar bill she had in there. She stuffed the money and plastic in her bra under her left breast. Her cell phone and keys went inside her bra, under her right boob. If anyone looked closely she'd have one strange lump but she didn't plan on anyone getting that close to her.

Her heart thumping like mad, she opened the door and stepped out onto the landing. She eased the door closed behind her. To her left was a beautifully crafted mahogany staircase that wound down to the second floor and then the first. Forget that, she'd never make it down undetected, mainly because everyone would be standing down there waiting on her.

To her right, at the end of the hall was a vastly different stairway behind a closed doorway they'd been shown on the tour of the house. As Andi recalled it was narrow and plain, a servant's stairway. Heaven forbid that servants, or slaves, would've shared a staircase with guests or the master of the house.

Andi quickly made her way down the hall, making sure she tiptoed so as not to alert anyone with the clicking of her heels against the hardwood floor. She opened the door and paused. Holding on to the door frame, she pulled off her shoes. She'd never make it down the worn wooden stairs without making a ton of racket in her shoes.

Closing the door behind her, her knees shaking, she silently moved down the narrow stairs as quickly as she dared. If she tumbled down the stairs ass over end, that'd certainly cause a commotion, not to mention she'd probably wind up killing herself. And while she simply couldn't marry Blanton, she didn't want to kill herself either.

After what felt like a lifetime, she reached the bottom. Putting her shoes back on, she cracked the door open and peered out, getting her bearings. She faced the rear hall. The door to her left lead to the kitchen, the muted noise of the catering staff busy at work coming through. Leaving that way wouldn't work. First, she'd have everyone's attention, not to mention it would dump her out into the rear garden where a big white tent and linen-draped tables were ready for
her reception. But the main reason it wouldn't work was because the Grand Ballroom where the ceremony was being held had floor-to-ceiling French doors that opened to the rear grounds, and the entire wedding ensemble would have a clear view of her hotfooting it out of there. Nix that option.

To the right the hall led to the foyer and the front door, where her attendants waited with the wedding planner…and Colton. Obviously that wouldn't work.

A rivulet of sweat trickled down her back and her armpits were soaking wet. She heard the flush of a toilet, the noise of water running in a sink and a door midway down the hall opened. One of Blanton's mother's friends from her garden club stepped out, pulling the door closed behind her. Bingo. A bathroom on ground level was exactly what she needed.

Remembering to tiptoe, she'd almost made it to the door when Marlena, her camera slung around her neck, spotted her. Silently, Andi made a face, pointed to the bathroom and did the dance universally recognized by women as the I've-got-to-pee jig. Marlena smiled and nodded in understanding.

Andi ducked into the bathroom and leaned against the door, her heart racing like a runaway train. Damn. Now instead of going upstairs to look for her, someone would be coming here in just a matter of minutes.

She had to act fast.

 

“Y
OU'LL DO JUST FINE,
” the wedding planner said, patting his shoulder.

Colton nodded abruptly. “I've got it down.”

He felt as if the walls were closing in on him. “I'm going to step outside for a minute. I need to make a call. I'll be back in—”

“Five minutes,” Sonya finished for him, not giving him the opportunity to come up with his own timeline.

“Five minutes,” he said, already heading for the front door. He just needed to step out into the fresh air and pull himself together. Jesus Christ, he was a major in the army. He was a soldier.

He stepped outside and rounded the corner of the house. He had five minutes to get his head into this. Operation Wedding Bells. He could do it. He'd undertaken far tougher assignments. The key was to disengage his emotions and where Andi was concerned that was damn hard.

Colton marched over to a small garden area that provided a little cover. He mentally reviewed all the reasons he'd never told her, or anyone else for that matter, how he felt about her. At the point he'd figured out how he felt, he was too old and she was too young. She was his best friend's sister and that would be damn awkward. Their mothers were best friends. Then, when she was older, he'd been about to ship out for his first deployment to Iraq and he strongly believed it was unfair to ask any woman to wait for
him when he went to war. Bottom line, it simply wouldn't work.

He really needed an attitude adjustment but just couldn't seem to manage it. What had he thought? That Andi would simply sit around forever? For years she'd just been Rion's younger sister, six years their junior and usually a pain in the ass. And it wasn't as if he'd been slapped in the face one day with a realization that she'd grown into a beautiful woman. No, he'd seen her transition into a teenager and then a young woman as she graduated high school. She'd gone on to earn a degree and in the past few years she'd built an online business for her artisan, handcrafted jewelry.

Colton had been preparing for his first tour of duty in Iraq, sort of taking stock of his life, when he realized that on some level, Andi'd always been a part of his life and somewhere along the way had become an even more important part of him. But he was about to be embroiled in a war and how fair would that have been to her? Not to mention she'd never given him any indication she saw him as anything other than a surrogate older brother, plus the not-so-small matter that Daisy Mitchell would've probably hired a hit squad to take him out since his career would take him all over the world, but not Savannah, Georgia.

He checked his watch. It was time. Just as he was about to stand, a window on the side of the house, about midway, shot up. Andi stuck her head out of the window, her glance darting left and right. Heaven help
him, but she was so beautiful his chest ached. The sun glinted off her red hair, the parts not covered by her white veil, picking out threads of gold and copper. She ducked back inside.

Colton surged to his feet and headed toward the open window. What was going on? Had she felt sick and needed fresh air? Did she need help?

He was halfway across the lawn when one shapely, hose-clad leg came through the window, then another, layers of white lace and dress and finally the rest of her.

She dropped to the ground, one of her heels sinking into the grass, throwing her off balance. As she began to fall backward, Colton automatically reached out and caught her.

“Whoa,” he said.

Andi yelped in surprise.