Runaway Groom (3 page)

“Oh chill out. There’s no work tomorrow.” Marie pushed back her cloud of blonde hair, and adjusted her impressive cleavage. “This place is great, isn’t it?”

April peered through the gloom. “It’s sort of dark.”

“Dark is good.” Eliza helped herself to a handful of nuts from the little bowl on the table.

The house band switched to yet another soulful country tune.

“Why is it every country song in the universe is about broken hearts?”

“They’re not all about broken hearts, they’re all about love.” Drink always brought out Marie’s romantic side, and tonight was no different. “Love makes the world go round. Didn’t you hear?”

“Love and broken hearts are the same thing.” Her stupid sister had love. For the second time in her life. And she was willing to risk it, for what?

“You are in a crap mood this evening.” Eliza cracked pistachios with her teeth, and added the shells to the mini pistachio mountain she’d got going on her side of the table. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d been a victim of a drive-by love shooting. What’s going on?”

April never spoke about her sister’s love life. There had been so much gossip about June’s romance self-destructing; the family had put the whole subject on sacred-topic-never-to-be-discussed-outside-the-family alert.

Nope, she never talked about it. Except to Eliza and Marie.

“I called June before I came out.”

There were twin moans from across the table.

“Your sister.” Eliza grimaced.

“Your sister is a pain in the ass.” Marie slammed her margarita onto the table. She waved her hands as though fighting off an influx of ninjas. “Okay, I know you don’t want to hear a word about your sainted sister, but honestly, you take so much crap from her. She’s always putting you down.”

April’s forehead hurt. She rubbed at the skin between her eyebrows
. What?

“She does.” Eliza’s head jerked up and down in a nod so emphatic she looked like a bobble-headed doll. “You just don’t see it. Every time you call her, or see her, you go all…” She looked up, rubbed her jaw. “All sort of inferior.”

“Inferior?” Her voice sounded ridiculously high. April swallowed. “What do you mean, inferior? I’m not inferior.” Getting up and storming off wasn’t really an option in these shoes, so April let her tone do the job for her.

Eliza rolled her eyes. Glanced at Marie.

“Look, what Eliza’s trying to say is you talk about June as though she’s a princess or something. As if she’s better than you.”

“She’s had a hard time.” They both knew June’s history; it was inconceivable both her friends could be such bitches. Where was their empathy? Their female solidarity in the face of the awful thing that had happened to June?

“June had a relationship a long time ago that went wrong. She’s never worked a day in her life, and now she’s engaged to a man who will take care of her for the rest of her life. I honestly don’t think she’s had such a bad time.” Eliza reached out and placed her hand over April’s. “Your father’s covered her rent for how long?”

“Well, she was upset, she needed—”

“She didn’t need seven years to get over it.” Eliza sipped her drink. “Look, I know you love her. But you’re wearing rose-tinted glasses as far as your sister is concerned. She’s had every advantage a girl could have, and she’s happily taken every single one of them. Unlike you, she takes without giving back. She’s not paying you for the dress, is she?”

“And you really can’t afford to buy all the material, and the pearls and everything,” Marie added. “I think she could have at least offered.”

“I’m happy to make her dress. She’s my sister.” Okay, she could sort of see their point; it was no secret April’s overdraft was stretched to the max to buy supplies for June’s dress.

“Her fiancé is so rich he’s hired a humongous yacht to sail her around the Caribbean for their honeymoon.” Eliza’s lip curled. “She buys everything from underwear to evening dresses in designer boutiques.”

“She could have bought her dress from anywhere, but she chose me.” April pried apart a pistachio nut and tossed the shell back into the bowl. “She chose me.” June hadn’t just picked her to make the dress because it was free. So why did doubt drip like chilled water down her spine?

“She chose you because you will make the perfect dress. You’re a great designer,” Marie said. “But she’s taking advantage by not paying you for it.”

“Hmm.” April wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wreck your buzz.” Eliza’s eyes glistened. “You know I think you’re fantastic, don’t you? It’s just your sister really annoys me. And you brought her up. What happened on the phone call?”

April shot her a side-eyes glance.

Eliza pressed a finger to her lips. “I promise not to bash June any more. No matter what.”

Her friend looked so sincere, April relented. “She’s sent out the invitations. And she invited Matthew.”

Marie gasped. “Matthew? The runaway—”

“Surely you told her…” Eliza said.

“Yes, I told her it was a completely stupid move, but she did it anyway.”

Eliza squeezed her lips together. Put both hands over her mouth, like the speak-no-evil monkey. She shook her head.

With Eliza on shut-down, Marie’s voice broke the silence.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

*****

Matthew recognized the handwriting on the thick ivory envelope immediately, even though he hadn’t seen it for years—since he’d been a kid passing notes in class. June’s handwriting wasn’t even particularly distinctive, there was no reason why it should be so instantly recognizable, but memory was pervasive.

He tapped the heavy envelope, half hoping to discern its purpose without having to actually open it. He hated revisiting the past, filled as it was with long discarded pain and anger. Over the past seven years, he’d changed so much his past self was a stranger to the man he was today.

He placed the envelope carefully on the rosewood table inside the front door, and stalked away as though escaping an unexploded bomb.

The house was too empty without Ben. His dog had lived for many more years than anyone expected, but eventually old age and disease had caught up with him. Matthew’s mother had been trying to persuade him to move on, to share his home and time with a puppy, but the time wasn’t right. He was so busy with work he didn’t have the right to bring a new dog into his life. Besides he was rarely here, spending most of his time at the office. When Ben was alive, he’d worked in his home office at weekends, but now…

Now, there was nothing keeping him at home. Nothing that needed him.

He levered open a window and breathed in the cool evening air. Why would June contact him after all these years?

With a curse, he stalked back to the table and snatched up the envelope.

The card inside was a wedding invitation, wrapped in a folded piece of paper.

We were friends once
, her familiar looped handwriting wrote.
I’m getting married, and I’d love you to come.
The note was signed with love, then her signature. Matthew read the details of the wedding. He didn’t recognize the name of her intended, but she’d chosen to wed in the church they’d decided on so many years ago. As it was the only church in Brookbridge, the village they’d both grown up in, that was no surprise.

If any of his family knew June Leigh was getting married they would have told him, so he guessed he was the only member of his family to receive an invitation. All ties with the Leighs had been cut after the wedding was called off. He’d told Amy she should stay friends with April, the two of them had always been closer than sisters, but she’d been adamant at breaking off relations.

Matthew had moved on in more ways than one. Luckily he’d done well enough in his end-of-year exams to have a choice of places to complete his third level education, and had chosen the option as far as possible from Brookbridge. His family had mourned his move to the UK as though he’d emigrated to Australia.

Every time he returned home, the prospect of running into June or her mother on the street cast a cloud over everything. People in the town, people he’d known his whole life, still looked away when he walked into the local shops. The town had a long memory.

Inviting him to her wedding…

He ran his thumb over her words. Maybe in some twisted way she thought inviting him to the wedding would heal the wounds, would show everyone she’d made peace with the past. Rehabilitation—June style.

Matthew ripped the invitation in two, and dropped it into the wastebasket.

*****

Dad usually rang on Sundays, and today was no exception.

“Inez wants some insider info on what color dress she should wear for the wedding.” He sounded tired. “I don’t see that it matters, but she says it really does. So I’m asking.”

“I don’t know about Michael’s mother, but Mum is wearing light blue, and I’m wearing a sort of dusky rose.”

“That’s pink, right?”

“Tell her dusky rose, she’ll get it.”

“Light blue and dusky rose, Inez,” Jack called.

April smiled as she heard her stepmother in the background.

Jack sighed. “Now she wants to know about hats.”

A call from Inez.

“Okay, okay, fascinators. What the hell is a fascinator anyway?”

“It’s a sort of headdress, Dad. Tell her Mum is wearing a hat, and I’ve got pearls in my hair.”

“Jeez, it’s so complicated.” Her father was quickly losing patience with all things feminine. “The wedding is a month away. I don’t see why everyone is getting so het up.”

April scooted up in bed, rearranged the pillows, and pulled her duvet close. “It matters, Dad. We just want everything to be perfect.” She plucked at the duvet cover, and wished she’d managed to get a glass of water before her father’s call. Her head was pounding as though an army of jackhammer-wielding builders were having a party.

She closed her eyes. She rarely drank, and this morning she remembered why.

Hangovers suck.

Her father droned on. “Come on, what could go wrong?”

She almost told him.

“June said Michael’s family have block-booked the hotel, apparently they have security travelling with them. His father sounds a real hotshot. I’m booking a room today for Inez and me. Do you want me to book one for you too?”

“I’m going to stay with Mum.” Her mother had announced she wanted to sleep in her own house after the wedding, and April had voted to join her. It was bound to be an emotional day, and at least this way they could spend some quality time together.

“Okay. June seems happy?”

“Yes, I think so.” It was natural her father would be worried about his eldest daughter. After all, he’d been here before and seen it all gone wrong.

“She deserves some happiness. I haven’t seen that young buck since he ran. Even after all these years…” He made a familiar sound, the sound he made when sucking through his teeth.

“It’s a long time ago.” April tried to infuse her tone with soothing.

“Not long enough. I swear if I see him again I’ll deck him.”

The pain in her jaw alerted her to the fact she was grinding her teeth again. She slackened her jaw, opened and mouth and breathed in and out.

So June hadn’t told him then.
Fan-bloody-tastic
. A part of her, the part that had nursed a crush on Matthew all those years ago almost felt sorry for him. No doubt, he’d come to the wedding under the impression he was being welcomed back into the fold, when in fact there were a whole pack of wolves ready and waiting to tear him limb from limb.

If June hadn’t told Dad, she wouldn’t have told Mum either, which meant the best possible scenario was Mum would dissolve into tears as her ex ranted and raved, or have a heart attack with the stress.

There was nothing for it—someone needed to save the situation, and despite the lack of a superhero costume, it would have to be April to the rescue.

Chapter Three

It was more channeling James Bond than Superwoman. Sure, she wasn’t a six foot hunk, but April was pretty pleased with her investigative skills. It was pretty easy, actually. A search of the London phone book had only returned one Matthew Logan, and she’d carefully copied down his address.

Now, like Monsieur Bond, she would painstakingly track her quarry and use her seduction skills to charm him into not attending the wedding. How hard could it be?

Start with sugar, and if necessary, she had arm flailing freaking out to fall back on. One of her approaches would definitely work. Because failure wasn’t an option.

She looked crap in a tux, so instead, she’d strapped on high heels that made the best of her legs, and dressed in a leather mini and a black shirt—because it was winter, and black was her winter color. Now she stood at his front door.

April plastered on a bright smile and pressed the bell.

He wouldn’t remember her. It had been years…

The door opened.

Her mouth went slack.

The Matthew in front of her was even more good-looking than he’d been back then. In a fraction of a second her gaze drank him in. The years had added a few lines to the corners of his cobalt eyes. His mouth was just as she remembered, firm and sexy. His dark chocolate hair stood up in front, as though he’d run his fingers through it seconds before opening the door. Her gaze dropped. Those shoulders… Years ago, he’d been lanky. Now? He looked as though he’d worked out every day of the last seven years.

He wore shorts and sneakers, with strong corded thighs covered in a dusting of dark hair on full display. April swallowed.

How was she to remain detached faced with such male beauty?

“Can I help you?” His voice was deep. His gaze did the whole up-down-full-body-scan thing she’d just done to him, lingering for a moment on her legs, as though even if he didn’t recognize her face, he might recognize her legs.

“Matthew.” Darn it, her voice was so high, she sounded like a cheerleader.

“Yes.” His eyes narrowed.

“You probably don’t remember me, it’s been a long time…”

His eyes widened. “April?”

She nodded. “April. I’m sorry for turning up unannounced, but I…I want to talk to you.”