Kiss the Bride (69 page)

“Thank you.”

Silence hung between them. The gulf had already begun.

“I was worried about telling you,” Delaney said. “I kept thinking about Johnny. I don’t want you to feel…”

“Honey, don’t you dare worry about that,” Tish said, forcing her voice to sound lighthearted and carefree. “I’m fine.”

Fine as ground glass.

“I just…”

“Listen, I’ve gotta go. Elysee wants me to go over the engagement party video with her. I’ll call you later. In the meantime kiss Nick for me and congratulations to you both.”

“Tish…”

“Love you. Bye,” Tish said and hung up.

For the longest time, she stared down at the cell phone. Briefly, she thought of calling Jillian to see if she could stay with her, but then she remembered Jillian was in San
Francisco for six months and she’d sublet her downtown condo. Rachael lived with her roommates, so that was out. And Dixie Ann was in San Diego.

Her house was burned to the ground. She had to be careful with her money. Her best friend was pregnant. She couldn’t stay with either of her other two friends. And there was the possibility that whoever burned her apartment wanted her dead. She was stuck on the ranch with her ex-husband and his fiancée.

Things couldn’t possibly get worse.

The laughter started deep inside her and built. Shaking her body, rumbling up through her diaphragm, into her lungs, and finally out through her lips until she was laughing hysterically, uncontrollably. Until she couldn’t breathe.

Hell, she thought, it was a lot better than crying. At least when you laughed at rock bottom, your eyes didn’t get all red and puffy.

A
fter his return from taking Tish to get her car, Shane went in search of Elysee. He traveled the path from the garage through the gardens, past the place where he’d first kissed Elysee—that sweet, chaste kiss that had caused him to put her up on a pedestal.

He stared down at his mangled hand. He tried to make a fist but could not contract his fingers inward any more than an inch. All this time in physical therapy and this was the best he could do?

Disgusting.

Worthless. He felt absolutely worthless. Last night, he hadn’t been able to stop an arsonist from burning down Tish’s apartment. Nor had he been able to save her from the fire. She’d saved herself. Not only saved herself but then nearly booted his sorry ass off the stairs.

What kind of man was he now? Broken. Useless. Unable to protect the people he loved. Viciously, Shane kicked at the loose pebbles on the garden path. His heel skidded in the gravel. He lost his balance and fell smack on his ass.

Chagrined, he stared up at the main house and saw Pete
Larkin standing on the back porch sneaking a smoke. A fitness trainer who smoked? Just his luck. Shane’s humiliation was complete. Someone had seen him.

Scrambling to his feet, he tried to look cool and failed miserably. He limped. His hand hurt. His face was covered in scratches. He was a mess.

Suck it up. Your grandfather stormed the beach at Normandy. Your father made it back from Vietnam in one piece. This is nothing.

He could take the humiliation. He could handle the pain and his physical limitation. What he couldn’t handle was having Tish so close, unable to touch her, fighting his desires, all the while remembering he was engaged to the President’s daughter.

How had things gotten so damned fucked up?

The temptation to get into his Durango and just drive and drive and drive until he hit water was overwhelming. Too bad he wasn’t the kind of guy who ran away when things got tough.

Oh, no? Who the hell bailed out of his marriage? That doesn’t sound like the actions of a stick-to-it guy.

The thought clipped him low in the gut. All his life he had believed he was the kind of man who accepted responsibility willingly. He hadn’t been a foolish teen. No drunken escapades, no irresponsible sex.

Well, except for that time on the ferry with Tish, when protection and condoms hadn’t even entered his lust-soaked mind.

Twice in his life, he hadn’t lived up to his image of himself. Once when he’d been so caught up in passion he’d gotten Tish pregnant, and then a year later when he’d walked out on her.

Guilt knifed him. Sliced open his gut, eviscerating him
and letting every emotion he’d been trying to hold inside come tumbling out in a rush of messy heat.

There was one big divider between the way he tried to live his life and Shane’s actual behavior. One thing and one thing only had led him from the straight and narrow path he’d always walked.

And her name was Tish Gallagher.

But Tish had changed.

Shane had never seen her so calm, so accepting, as he had seen her this afternoon. He didn’t know what to make of her transformation. He was gobsmacked.

Face it, Tremont. It’s finally over. You should be relieved. Now you can get on with your life.

But he wasn’t. He couldn’t.

He scratched his head. His hair had grown out. He would need to get it trimmed before the wedding. When he’d first seen Tish again his hair had been nothing but little spikes of stubble all over his head. Now, so many things had changed, yet the most important one was still the same.

He was engaged to marry Elysee Benedict.

And he had Tish’s blessings.

Fury grabbed him then. Fisted his gut. Burned his throat. He had no idea why he was so angry, but it felt damn good. Ever since the accident, he’d been walking around in a muddle. He hadn’t stopped to ask himself what it was that he really wanted.

What did he want?

Tish. He wanted Tish.

You can’t have her.

The strength of his desire knocked him on his ass. For two years he’d fought his desires, hidden his feelings, tamped down his emotions. He’d been a good Secret Service agent. No, he’d been a great Secret Service agent.

But what was he now?

Maimed. Muddled. Lost.

Shane refused to put up with this helpless feeling. He had to do something. Had to prove he was still a man. He had to get his courage back.

By the time he reached the back porch, Larkin had ducked back inside but the air was still redolent with the smell of his cigarette. Shane went in through the rear entrance, past the kitchen where preparations for the evening meal had already started. Elysee was throwing a small dinner party for her charity.

Lola was in the kitchen, confabbing with the executive chef about special dietary restrictions for one of the houseguests they were expecting for the President’s visit. She spied Shane and graced him with her usual glare. For some reason, the woman hated him.

“Have you seen Elysee?” he asked Lola.

“I believe she’s upstairs in her room.”

“Not upstairs, Lola. Here I am.”

Shane turned to see Elysee coming into the kitchen.

Their eyes met.

Her automatic smile was the painted-on version she doled out to the media. “Shane,” she said. “We need to talk.”

His breathing stilled and he felt a supreme sense of calm. “I know.”

“Let’s go somewhere more private for this conversation.”

He realized all the ears in the room were attuned to them. He held a hand out to Elysee. She took it. They turned toward the back door. Shane saw Cal in a corner of the room glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest. When they started out the exit, Cal followed.

“I can handle her security from here.” Shane stopped in front of his old partner.

“Can you?” Cal bristled.

Shane narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t even hold a gun. How are you going to protect her?” Cal chuffed.

Elysee splayed a hand against Cal’s chest. “It’s okay. I’ll be all right with Shane. We’re just going for a stroll around the lake.”

The look Cal gave her betrayed the same feelings that stirred inside Shane whenever he looked at Tish. The realization that came to him was sudden but certain. Cal Ackerman was in love with Elysee Benedict. The question was, did Elysee know?

“You’ve got nothing to fear,” he said, reassuring his old partner. “I’ll bring her back to you safe and sound.”

Cal nodded curtly. “Fifteen minutes. After that, I’m coming after you.”

It sounded like a threat. Shane didn’t know what to make of this new development. Elysee slipped her arm through Shane’s. Cal audibly ground his teeth. He had the feeling Cal would’ve gladly ripped his throat out.

Neither one of them spoke until they were treading the path leading away from the ranch house and toward the lake—the very place where Shane had proposed.

Elysee took a deep breath and stopped underneath an oak tree overlooking the water. “I don’t really know how to say this,” she began, but then didn’t go on.

He cupped her cheek with his palm. “Whatever you have to say, it’s going to be okay.”

Her blue eyes, clear and soft, focused on his. “Is it?”

“I promise.”

“You’re such a good friend; that’s why this is so hard for me.” She was breaking up with him. He didn’t know whether to jump in and help her out, or let her be the one in control.

In the end, he decided she needed to be empowered more than she needed the easy way out. He smiled at her. “No matter what you say next, Elysee, I just want you to know that you’ll always be my friend.”

“Really?” Her expression was somber.

He leaned down to touch his forehead against hers. “Really.”

She exhaled sharply and sank against his chest. “Oh, thank heavens. The last thing I want is to lose your friendship.”

“You won’t.”

She stepped back from the circle of his arms. “You already know what I’m going to say.”

He nodded.

“You’re still in love with Tish.” Elysee’s voice caught and her eyes misted with tears.

“Yeah.” Darn if he wasn’t feeling a little misty himself. “But she doesn’t love me anymore.”

Elysee laughed.

Confused, Shane tilted his head. “What?”

“You great big fool. She’s truly, madly, deeply in love with you.”

His heart thumped. “Are you sure?”

“You’re not?”

“But I hurt her something terrible.”

“She’s a forgiving person.”

“You really think I have a chance of winning her back?”

“Not as long as I have this on my finger.” Elysee twisted off her diamond engagement band. She took his hand, placed
the ring in his palm, and closed his fist around it. “Although Daddy’s going to be disappointed. He really likes you.”

“This isn’t about your father.”

“I know.”

His gaze searched her face. “Elysee,” he said and slipped the ring into his pocket. “I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

“You didn’t hurt me.” She smiled warmly. “You gave me a precious gift.”

“What’s that?” he asked gruffly.

“Unconditional friendship. Unfortunately, we both mistook what we were feeling for love. True love is something deeper,” she said softly. “It’s what you have with Tish. It’s the thing I’ve been searching for my entire life, but I just haven’t been able to find.”

“It might be right under your nose,” he said.

“What do you mean?” She canted her head.

“Cal Ackerman’s in love with you.”

Audibly, she sucked in her breath and her eyes brightened. The wind gusted, blew tendrils of brown hair about her face. “Did he say something to you?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know there’s something there?”

“The look in his eyes, the possessive way he glares at me whenever I touch you. Dead giveaway.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough to go on.”

“It’s up to you to find out.”

Elysee tapped her foot in frustration. “Why can’t men just say what they’re feeling?”

“Something in the masculine gene prevents it, I guess,” he said, thinking about Tish, about all the things they’d been through, about all the things he’d never been able to say to her but should have.

She snorted. “More like pure hardheaded stubbornness if you ask me.”

“How do you feel about Cal?”

“I don’t know how I feel about anything right now.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Three days after our official engagement and it’s all over.” She ruefully shook her head. “My shortest engagement yet.”

“Maybe next time, you should just elope.” He grinned.

“Maybe I will.” She grinned back.

“You’re going to find him, Elysee,” he reassured her. “The man you’re supposed to be with. And when you do, you’re going to know with absolute certainty.”

“The way you knew about Tish?”

“Yeah.” His voice cracked oddly.

“What happened between you two? What was it that broke apart a love that seemed so strong?”