Runaway Groom (19 page)

They’d reached her car and using her key lock she beeped it open before facing him. “This is what’s going to happen, Ben. We’re going to drive to a place of your choosing and then you’re going to tell me what it is about this costume that has upset you so much.”

“You’re going to have to take it off first.”

“I’m serious.”

A long sigh shuddered out of him. “So am I.”

* * *

Amy sat on a couch in the master bedroom sitting room watching Ben pace back and forth in front of the bay window. He’d been silent on the way home and she hadn’t pushed him to talk, but now she’d kept her end of the bargain—she’d changed out of her costume—and it was time for him to keep his.

“Ready when you are.”

Ben stopped abruptly and stared at her through hooded eyes. “I’m never going to be ready.”

“So choose a place to start. What was it about the suit that set you off? Was it the color?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Black isn’t a color. It’s a tone.”

She decided not to respond to that because he only wanted to distract her. Instead she tucked her legs up under her and pulled a throw rug over her to ward against the chilly evening air.

With his back to her, he gazed out into the starry night. “Lexie borrowed my suit occasionally and wore it to costume parties. I used to tease her that she looked better in it than I did.”

Her heart ached for him and for herself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of her.”

He tapped the window seat gently with his foot. “You don’t remind me of Lexie in any way at all, which is what I need, but that fucking suit did.”

He turned around, his face taut and strained and for a moment she wondered if she should cause him any more pain by making him tell her. He pulled at his hair. “I hate it, but somehow I managed to live with a woman for three months and have no clue she was gay.”

Amy heard the shame and embarrassment in his tone and it took her a moment to digest the actual words. “She’s a lesbian?”

Ben nodded slowly, his eyes filled with shadows. “Got it in one.”

Of all the scenarios she’d run through in her head over the past couple of weeks as to why Lexie would have broken off the engagement, she’d never got anywhere near close to the truth. “And that’s why she stood you up at the wedding?”

“Yeah.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “It was hell of day all around. One I’ve spent the past year forgetting.”

Her heart ached for him. “Except it keeps coming back, doesn’t it?”

“When I least expect it.” His green eyes flickered with hurt and pain. “Shit, I’d have been happy to get hitched in a registry office and go to the pub afterwards but Lexie had insisted she wanted the full-catastrophe white wedding with all the bells and whistles. She kept saying, ‘let’s make it count. Let’s show everyone how amazing we are together. Let them dream about what gorgeous children we’re going to make.’ So there we all were, one hundred and fifty people in the Melbourne Botanical Gardens on a beautiful autumn March day, sitting in white chairs listening to a string quartet and waiting for the bride.”

Amy pictured Ben standing in his tuxedo in front of an expectant crowd and she bit her lip. “And she didn’t show?”

“Oh, she showed,” he said bitterly. “She arrived wearing a black suit. Her bridesmaid wore the wedding dress.”

A blast of fury blew through her that had absolutely nothing to do with Lexie being gay but everything to do with the way she’d humiliated Ben. “That’s horrible. Why would she do that to you?”

He scrubbed his cheek with his palm. “She swears she didn’t set out to do it, and I believe her now but at the time it was... Crap, there are no words to describe it. For a moment I thought it was another one of her crazy pranks. Instead, it was the culmination of what I now know was always going to be a train wreck. At least that’s what I’ve been telling myself for months, needing to believe it, because it’s all so fucking complicated. One day I think I understand it and have it straight in my head, and the next I don’t.”

His voice deepened, filled with something close to acrimony. “I blame Sian for the very public way Lexie came out. I swear it was her idea.”

“Sian?”

“The bridesmaid. Or to be precise, the bride.”

His bitterness slammed her so hard she rocked. She wanted to rush over to him, hold him tight and tell him—She had no clue what to say as a thousand questions spun in her head so fast she felt dizzy. “I don’t understand. If Lexie thought or knew she was gay, why did she even accept your marriage proposal?”

He flinched. “She didn’t. I accepted her proposal to me.”

“Oh.” Amy was struggling to keep up with his story. She couldn’t imagine having the guts to risk asking any guy to marry her when there was a devastating chance of hearing a no.

He gave her a wry smile tinged with resignation. “Lexie’s tenacious and she usually gets what she wants and she decided she wanted me. Or at least she thought she wanted me but it turns out it was for all the wrong reasons.”

Amy had the distinct feeling she was sliding down a slippery slope. Every time she thought she understood, it slid from her grasp. She could only imagine how Ben must have felt—was still feeling. “How did you meet her?”

He blew out a long, protracted sigh. “Lexie’s an engineer like me and we met at an iron ore mine out in the Pilbara in Western Australia. It’s in the middle of nowhere surrounded by blistering heat and red dust, and ninety-nine percent of the staff is male. I loved the work but it’s not something you want to do forever. I had a close mate, Mark, who was working up there with me and we’d both decided at the end of the contract, we were heading back east.”

He seemed to stare off into space for a moment before clearing his throat. “Four days after that conversation, Mark died in a freak accident.” He grimaced as sad memories clouded his eyes. “He lost his footing on a mining truck and fell the equivalent of two stories.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “That sounds horrendous. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah. You’re not supposed to die at twenty-nine. That’s the age when you’re starting to think about settling down. Making a commitment to someone and moving forward with your life. Hell, that had been the plan and Mark lost the chance.” He open and closed his hands a few times. “Three weeks after Mark died, Lexie walked onto the site with a bright yellow hard hat on her head, dust rising from her heels, and she made a beeline for me. She said, ‘G’day, we’re having dinner together in the mess tonight.’

“I laughed but like I said, Lexie’s nothing if not determined. And she was fun. She changed my life at the mine and turned it on its head. We did some crazy and outrageous things together and she lifted my grief. When she proposed six weeks later, I accepted. ‘Why wait,’ she said, so the wedding was planned for eight weeks after that. There was just enough time for my stunned parents to help us organize it from four thousand kilometers away.”

His emerald eyes implored her to understand. “I know it was fast but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I was starting my grown-up life with a woman who made me laugh, wanted marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. I kept thinking how lucky I was that what I wanted had fallen into my lap.”

She thought about his dead friend. “You were doing what you and Mark talked about. Honoring him?” she asked softly.

He blinked at her in surprise. “That’s what my sister-in-law the therapist said.”

“Did you...”
Just ask him.
She sucked in a breath. “Did you love her?”

“I thought I did.” He slumped down onto the window seat as if telling her the story had drained him of energy. “Now I don’t know. Believe me, I’ve asked myself the same question a million times but everything about me and Lexie was so fucked up I can’t separate the real from the fake. I had no clue that our entire relationship was based on a lie and she was using me to fight her demons. I didn’t guess that the occasionally crazy, risk-taking stuff she did was part of her problem. She was in denial, trying so hard to live a straight life—a life everyone expected her to live and part of her wanted to live, while the rest of her shuddered at the thought.”

She thought about the fallout that would engulf her and her life if she stood up to Jonathon and a wave of sympathy for the unknown Lexie rolled through her. Part of her understood why she’d struggled and resisted coming out. “So no one knew she was gay?”

He grimaced. “One person. Sian. I didn’t meet her until we came back to Melbourne, two weeks before the wedding. Sian wasn’t my biggest fan,” he said with ironic understatement. “She hated me. After a few attempts to find some common ground with her and getting nothing, I gave up. Lexie visited her without me and I didn’t give it a second thought because, shit, women do stuff together all the time, don’t they?”

She heard and saw his appeal for confirmation. She didn’t really have girlfriends and she was still burned from Beth’s betrayal, but she had sisters and she knew what he meant. “Girls’ night out, weekends away?”

“Yeah, all of that. As the wedding got closer, Lexie was spending full days with Sian and I just thought it was wedding stuff. It turns out they’d been in a relationship before I’d met Lexie and Sian had been pressuring her to come out then. Lexie was scared and confused, and she broke it off, came north and chose me to be her attempt at living straight. I had no clue about any of it. I was just the pathetic bastard who got caught up in the middle of a fucking mess.”

“You’re not pathetic.” She shot to her feet and sat down next to him on the window seat, putting her hand on his back. The muscles were so tight they almost pushed her fingers away. “You were grieving for a friend and she only showed you the Lexie she wanted you to see. The person she was trying to be, not the person she was fighting. You had no reason to suspect she was gay.”

“Everyone betrays themselves in some way. I should have fucking realized.” He shot to his feet and opened the minibar. “Booze in the bedroom. The rich think of everything, don’t they?” He poured himself a scotch and offered her one.

She shook her head. “Do you really need that?”

He immediately put the glass down and pulled her to her feet. “I’d rather have you.”

He kissed her like he always did—taking charge and reducing her to a delicious, quivering mess.

But he was hurting and this time she was determined to give back. She undid his shirt and pulled it out of his pants before pressing kisses to his chest. Her hands kneaded his back until they reached his hips and then she brought them around to his front. She could feel his erection straining against the button fly of his jodhpurs and she quickly undid the buttons and dropped to her knees.

“No.” The harshness of his voice whipped her as both his hands gripped her head hard. “Get up. Now.” He hauled her to her feet, his face twisted with disgust and he immediately turned away from her, downing the whiskey.

Mortification burned her cheeks as anger, embarrassment and abject sadness pummeled her so hard she swayed. She’d thought it would help him, be something he might enjoy. Would she ever get this sex thing right?

It’s not you
,
it’s me.

The thought stopped her automatic spiral into self-doubt and loathing.
Examine the facts.
He’s always the playmaker in sex but you haven’t minded because it’s all new anyway.
He’s never let you touch him except to roll on a condom.
She’d always put it down to her inexperience and sexual timidity but the more she thought about it the more she realized it was because he didn’t want to be touched.

Everyone betrays themselves in some way.
I
should have fucking realized.

She sat down on the bed. “I refuse to let you make me feel bad. If we’re going to keep having sex, I need you to tell me what you like and what you don’t like so we don’t end up here again.”

Ben saw the determination in Amy’s eyes and he had a choice. He could refuse and instantly end this thing between them or he could give her the last piece of information of the debacle that was him and Lexie. The one thing he’d held so close to his chest that he’d never told anyone. Not the therapist he’d seen once or his caring sister-in-law and definitely not his brothers. It was the answer to the question,
how could you live with her
,
sleep with her and not realize she was gay?
The question he’d seen in everyone’s eyes at the wedding and in the days that followed. The question that implied his own stupidity and it had driven him out of Australia and on this road trip.

It was the missing piece in the jigsaw that represented his blindness and his denial that everything had happened too fast and that there were some problems between him and Lexie. The one niggling thing he’d always papered over with excuses.

“Ben?” She spoke his name so softly, so hesitantly that he barely heard it.

It broke him. He sat down next to her and picked up her hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just that sex with Lexie was mostly oral. She said she was saving herself for me, to make the wedding night special, and fool that I was I believed her and didn’t push her on it. It was the
one
clue she gave me and I ignored it.”

“You’re not a fool. You’re a guy who respects women.” Empathy shone in her eyes and she squeezed his hand. “I understand that me wanting to...” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, don’t worry because I’m not sure how I feel about....” the tips of her ears glowed fire-red “...oral sex.” She grinned at him. “It might all be a bit too messy.”

She’d just made his issue all about her and he almost cried at her thoughtfulness. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She rested her head on his shoulder, her curls brushing her face. “Can we keep doing the other stuff, though, because I really liked all of it.”

He laughed. “We can do that.”

“Now?”

He pulled her down onto the bed with him and kissed her.

Chapter Sixteen

“My party.” Lily pointed to the invitation on the fridge.

“No, that was Eva’s party,” Scott said as he served up the pasta casserole he’d made for their supper. “Remember, we went on Tuesday and you gave her the jigsaw puzzle. It’s all done now. You can take the invitation down and put it in the trash.”

Lily shook her head. “Lily party.”

Lily had been embraced by the parents of the kindergarteners and she’d been to three birthday parties in quick succession. “You went to Eva’s, Kaylee’s and Sydney’s parties.” He set her plate down in front of her and poured a glass of milk.

Lily’s mouth formed a mulish line. “Lily party. My cake.”

His hand stilled on the salad servers. “You want to have a birthday party?”

Lily bounced in her chair. “Blow out the candle.”

Her birthday had occurred during the move and he’d been too overwhelmed by getting the house set up and Lily settled into school so he’d let it slide with the intention of doing something special a bit later, like a trip to the Minnesota Zoo. Now she was asking for a birthday party like any normal five-year-old. His throat got tight.

“Okay, Lily, you can have a birthday party.”

Her eyes lit up. “Now?”

He shook his head, half laughing, half groaning. “No, we have to count sleeps.”

“Okay,” she said happily and started eating her supper.

Slowly the joy of having his little girl ask for something so normal started to fade. He’d never thrown a kid’s party in his life. Where the hell did he start?

* * *

Melissa finished the piano piece she was playing with a flourish, thrilled she’d only made one mistake. She waited for Scott’s praise but ten seconds ticked past. “Wow, Melissa,” she said, “that was amazing. You deserve a special treat for working so hard.”

Scott stared silently into space and she snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Hello, earth to Scott, I’ve finished.”

“Great. Good job,” he said distractedly.

“You didn’t hear a thing, did you?”

A sheepish expression crossed his face. “Sorry.”

“And you even missed the hint about sex so whatever it is you’re thinking about must be pretty big.”

He sighed. “In a moment of insanity I promised Lily a birthday party.”

Surprise rolled through her. It was the first time he’d ever volunteered any information about his daughter. “And?”

“Do you have any idea what’s involved in a party?” He looked at her, his hazel eyes bright with terror. “God, I thought it was cake and candles and then sending them home with a goody bag, but on the children’s party websites it says I need a theme, a magician or a visiting fairy.”

Melissa laughed. “They’re only five so I don’t think they need a decorative theme. Just blow up some balloons.”

“I can do balloons.”

“There you go. One problem solved.”

“Do you have any other suggestions?”

“Um...” His question surprised her and she thought about her middle sister’s children who always had birthday parties. “Games are easy and they love them. Play pin the tail on the donkey and musical chairs. Then you can feed them, sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ blow out the candles and send them home.”

He pushed up his glasses. “You make it sound so easy.”

She studied him. “So you’ve never given her a party before?”

“No, and I want this one to be good. It’s hard enough for her not being as developed as the other kids without her dad throwing her a crap party.”

Her heart rolled. “If all else fails, just play your piano. Little girls love to dance.”

Anxiety wove across his face. “It’s just I can’t split myself five ways, heating food, running games, keeping the girls under control and making sure Lily’s coping.” He looked at her, a battle clearly raging in his eyes, and then he huffed out a breath. “If I get everything organized, could you help me out on the day? Be my party wingman?”

Her heart did a crazy flip like it had never done before and she rubbed her sternum. “Sure.”

“Thanks, Missy.”

He smiled at her—a warm, quiet smile that added to the odd sensations that had taken up residence. Sensations that scared her. She steeled herself and wrestled back some control. “My terms are this. The party needs to be on a Sunday and you have to call me Melissa.”

“Absolutely, Missy. How about you play that piece one more time and I promise to give you all of my attention.” He dropped a kiss onto her hair—one that was all to do with affection and absolutely nothing at all to do with sex.

The kiss sent the already-simmering panic inside her spilling over and she grabbed his hand, determined to reset all her feelings about Scott. “I’ve got six minutes. Give me your undivided attention in bed.”

* * *

Amy was in Whitetail having told her parents she was picking up Ben from the garage. That was the truth but she’d come in early so she could make some calls without any chance of being overheard. Despite the size of the house, with her parents there, it was suddenly too small.

For the seventh time in an hour she was making a call which basically started with, “Hi, I’m Amy Sagar and I’m just touching base in regards to the advertised position...” and then she filled in the blanks, based on the notes on her yellow legal pad. The agencies she’d signed up with hadn’t come up with any interviews so she was back combing the help wanted ads for jobs.

“We have your résumé, Ms. Sagar, and we’ll be in touch,” the brusque woman at the end of the line said, using the exact same tone as every other P.A. who’d taken her call.

It told her nothing and it failed to give her any hope. She thanked the woman and disconnected the call, putting a red strike through the last number on her list. Misery washed through her. Time was passing quickly and she wasn’t any closer to a job and as much as she was enjoying making Janey’s wedding gown, it wasn’t a job-job. She missed working, she missed her duties with her charity, Kids Plus, and she missed the families who benefitted from it. Her only consolation was that the Foundation had a prestigious reputation so Jonathon wouldn’t tamper with it because he’d want the associated glory.

She glanced at her watch. She still had thirty minutes to kill before Ben was ready to leave. Ever since Ben had told her about Lexie, she’d been thinking about the whole awful story. Awful for both Ben and his ex-fiancée. She thought he was being way too hard on himself for not realizing Lexie was gay. She’d even done a bit of internet research, reading stories from both men and women whose partners had come out. They all shared the same stunned disbelief that Ben had talked about.

People had a thousand sides and they chose what they wanted to display to the world and what they wanted to hide. She thought about Jonathon and her jobless state and how she hadn’t told her parents anything.
You haven’t told Ben the full story either.
Her mind leaped away from that like fingers from fire. It wasn’t like they were engaged. Ben didn’t have to know.

The cold nipped at her ankles, and she needed to do something because sitting here in the darkening park wasn’t going to make her feel any better about her life. She could go and hang out in the garage while Ben finished up but he’d only ask how the job hunting was going and she didn’t want to have that conversation, thank you very much. She preferred it when she and Ben were exercising or having sex—he was too busy then to ask her the hard questions. Shoving her hands into her coat pockets, she started walking and as she looked at the new window display in the Northern Lights Boutique she had an idea. Pushing the door open, she stepped inside.

It was near closing time and Melissa was alone in the store. She looked up from steaming a jacket and smiled. “Hi, Amy.”

“Hey, Melissa.” She ran her hand along a rack of long-sleeved blouses whose shades covered the full gamut of fall colors, suddenly feeling embarrassed by what she’d come in to ask.

Melissa flicked off the power to the steamer, her face welcoming if slightly confused. “I wasn’t expecting you to stop by. Are there problems with Janey’s gown?”

“No, it’s coming along just fine.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.”

“The jacket looks good on you,” Melissa said, moving over to a display of scarves and picking one up. “This came in the other day and I thought it would really suit you and the jacket.”

“It sure is pretty.”

Melissa wound it around Amy’s neck. “There you go. Perfect.”

Amy thought about her bank account, which was healthy but without a regular income it may not stay that way for too long. “How much is it?”

Melissa waved her hand. “It’s my treat as thanks for helping me out with Janey, unless of course you’d like something else?”

“Actually...” She felt the burn in her cheeks.

“Just ask, Amy. I can give you a discount to the value of the scarf on another item if you’d like it more.”

“It’s not that... I feel stupid asking but I’ve had a pretty crap day on the job-hunting front and I was wondering if I could try on a wedding dress?”

Melissa’s face broke into a wide smile. “Heck, yes, you can do that. After all, it’s wine o’clock.” She locked the store door and turned the sign to Closed. “Which one do you want to try on?”

“The one with the sweetheart neckline, the beautifully beaded bodice and the full circle tulle skirt,” Amy said without a moment’s hesitation.

“Oh, great choice,” Melissa said approvingly. “I love that gown.” She retrieved it off the rack and unzipped the protective bag before hanging up the gown.

Both of them sighed with delight, looked at each other and laughed.

“Will you try one on too?” Amy asked. “I feel bad for taking up your time.”

“It’s fine and I’m always happy to try on clothes. Seeing as you’re here and can do up forty-five buttons, I think I’m in the mood for a bit of 1930s vintage style.” She quickly located the gown she wanted. “You try yours on first and then you can help me get into mine.”

Ten minutes later, both wearing a wedding gown, they alternated between twirling and standing still while staring into the large mirror. “Oh, my God, I have no clue why this makes me feel giddy with joy,” Amy said, “but it’s amazing.”

“That dress really suits you.” Melissa handed her a glass of champagne. “You should remember this style when the time comes and you need a wedding gown.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Amy said, clinking Melissa’s glass. “I have to get a job first.”

“Why? You and Ben seem cozy?”

“I could say the same about you and Scott,” she said quickly, not wanting to discuss Ben even though he was hands-down the best man who’d ever been in her bed.

In your life.

Melissa laughed. “Scott is all about sex and nothing about marriage.”

“So you love wedding gowns but you don’t want to get married?”

Melissa took a long slug of her drink. “Oh, I want to get married and I have my gown all picked out. I just need a single man in his thirties who doesn’t live at home, isn’t divorced, has a well-paying job, doesn’t have commitment-issues and wants to have babies straightaway.”

“Are you ordering him from a catalog?” Amy asked, thinking about Ben who’d clearly wanted to get married once but now, after the trauma of Lexie, she doubted he did.

“I wish. But I’m determined to avoid the heartache and financial problems that my eldest sister’s facing. My friend Emily and I made a pact to find two perfect guys by Christmas.”

“That’s not so far away.”

“I know it.” She sighed and drained her glass. “Here’s to finding a good man.”

Amy wondered if she’d already found one.

* * *

Scott tousled Lily’s hair before collapsing next to Melissa on the couch. The party was over and all the guests had left the house. “Man, I’m exhausted.”

She laughed. “Five-year-olds have more energy and stamina than I thought.” Her gaze drifted to Lily who was looking at a picture book. “Lily’s got your sense of rhythm. She’s a great little dancer.”

The compliment was unexpected and it warmed him. “Thanks. She likes to sing too, but sadly with her speech impediment singing in the shower’s going to be as close as that gets to a career.”

Melissa frowned. “I know you must have mixed with the crème of musical talent, but most of us who like to sing don’t have the ability to be soloists, Scott. Doesn’t stop us singing.”

Her words set him back slightly. He loved Lily to the point of pain and he wanted the best for her but part of him always went first to what she’d never be. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it in those terms.”

Melissa gave a wry smile. “Besides, if they allowed me to sing in the school choir, they’ll let Lily in if she wants to join in the future.”

“I’ve never heard you sing.”

“And you’re not going to.”

Her emphatic tone was an instant dare as well as a test. “Hey, Lily, do you want to hear Missy sing?”

His daughter jumped up from her book, a wide smile on her face and her brown eyes sparkling from behind her glasses. “Hot potato?”

Melissa tensed and for a moment he thought she was going to give an excuse.

“You’re a sly fox, Scott Knapp,” she muttered as Lily stood in front of her clapping with expectation. Then all her attention was on his daughter. “Lily, I don’t know that song so you need to teach me. You sing it while your daddy plays the music.”

Before Scott had reached the piano, Lily had started singing and dancing. She was kicking out her jean-clad legs with enthusiastic fervor and giving her own interpretation to the dance actions she’d learned from watching the DVD over and over and over.

Melissa watched Lily intently before standing up and smoothing down her bright green pants with rigid hands. “I’ll try but I’m not sure my dancing’s going to be as good as yours.”

She formed two fists and stacked them on top of each other and then in a delightfully husky but definitely off-key voice she sang, “Hot potato, hot potato.”

She hadn’t been exaggerating—she really couldn’t sing—and yet she kept on going, moving on to the next verse of
cold spaghetti
and flinging her arms out as wildly as Lily. After a rousing version of
mashed banana
she fell onto the couch with a giggling Lily and gave him a death stare. “Happy now?”