The Kidnapped Christmas Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 3) (3 page)

Two minutes after four o’clock.

Three minutes after four o’clock.

If the four o’clock candlelight wedding had started on time, McKenna would already be down the aisle, at the front of the church, getting ready to say I Do in front of Marietta’s most respectable citizens.

It would be a beautiful ceremony. The bridesmaids would probably be wearing red. It was a Christmas wedding after all.

Four minutes after four o’clock.

If he was going to do this, it had to be now, before she’d said her vows.

He grimaced, aware that his appearance would be problematic. McKenna was not going to be happy to see him. No one was going to be pleased by his appearance…not even Troy, who was sitting inside with his librarian girlfriend.

Common sense and decency forbad him from interrupting McKenna’s wedding.

But Trey apparently had neither.

He glanced down at his watch. Five minutes after four o’clock.

If he was going to do this, he had to do it.

He drew a deep breath, feeling the snug blazer pull across his shoulders. The jacket was too tight. The trousers a little too fitted. It wasn’t his suit. It was Troy’s, and if the hand sewn label inside the jacket was any indication, very expensive.

He didn’t have to dress up today. One didn’t need to be in formal wear to interrupt a wedding, but he wanted to be respectful. This was McKenna’s big day. So he’d borrowed his brother’s suit, and paired it with a black dress shirt, but had passed on the tie—he wasn’t a tie guy. He was wearing black boots with the suit because those were the only dress shoes he owned, but he did feel a bit like Johnny Cash, The Man in Black.

Today the black shirt wasn’t a fashion statement.

Today he’d dressed for a funeral. McKenna marrying Lawrence was an end…the death of a dream. But he wasn’t going into the church to fight, or to protest. He just wanted to speak to McKenna, to make sure she’d recognize his rights as TJ’s father. Because he could maybe—just maybe—accept losing McKenna, but he couldn’t wrap his head around losing TJ.

TJ was his boy. His son. His flesh and blood.

He loved that boy, too. Fiercely. Completely.

But that didn’t matter in a court of law. Not when McKenna had sole custody, just as she’d had sole custody from the beginning, and let’s face it, no judge would ever take him from his mother, not when the mother was as good as McKenna, and the father as rotten as Trey Sheenan. Or so said Judge McCorkle when he gave McKenna sole custody all those years ago.

Six minutes after four o’clock.

He hadn’t slept last night. Couldn’t sleep after failing to find McKenna earlier in the evening. And even though Troy and Dillon had warned him off, Trey had gone looking for her. He had to. He had to talk to her—not just about her choosing Lawrence, but about TJ, and what would happen to TJ once she married another man. So after showering and changing at the ranch house yesterday afternoon, he’d grabbed the keys to his truck—which still ran thanks to his brothers taking care of it—and headed back to Marietta to try to find McKenna.

He’d searched for her without success. She and TJ no longer lived in the old apartment complex, the one by the Catholic church. Part of him was glad—it was a crappy neighborhood—but he didn’t know where they’d gone and the few folks he asked either didn’t know or weren’t about to tell him.

But she had to be somewhere. She was getting married the next afternoon, which meant there had to be a rehearsal dinner someplace that night in Marietta. Maybe at Beck’s, or one of the other nice new restaurants that had opened in the last few years, or at the Graff, not that he could see any sign of McKenna or a wedding party there.

It was possible they were doing a BBQ dinner at one of the fancy barns, or even hosting the dinner in Livingston or Bozeman.

Trey had been sure Troy knew, and Dillon, too. But they weren’t talking.

In the end, Trey had gone to bed at midnight and spent most of the night lying on his back staring up at the beamed ceiling of his bedroom, trying to imagine the future without McKenna and TJ, aware that he’d be lucky to see his son a couple days a month.

Trey, who had a cast iron stomach and nerves of steel, had thrown up again in the middle of the night.

If only he’d been able to talk to her.

If only he’d been able to have a chance to plead his case, asking her to consider joint custody, asking her to promise more visitation time…

She needed to know how much TJ meant to him.

He glanced out the window, up at the sky. The sun was dropping, shifting, soon to disappear behind the mountains, leaving Marietta in darkness. He looked from the sky to his watch. Eight minutes after four.

If he didn’t do something soon, it’d be too late.

If he hoped to state his case, it had to be now.

But he dreaded what was to come. He dreaded making her unhappy. She wouldn’t appreciate him interrupting the wedding, creating drama. Even he could see the pattern there. Trey = Chaos. Trey = Shame.

But he wasn’t doing this because he wanted to embarrass her. He was doing what he had to do to protect his rights as a father, even if he was only allowed to be that father on a part-time basis.

It was now or never. And God help him, but he couldn’t handle forever without his boy, so it looked like the time was now.

Trey shook down his sleeve, covering the watch, and opened the truck door.

Things were going to get interesting fast.

*

McKenna stood at
the back of the church, trembling in her high heels, praying no one knew she was about to wobble her way to the altar. This was supposed to be a slow and stately procession down the aisle, but she didn’t feel stately at the moment, not with her legs shaking and her knees knocking.

It was the blasted Wedding March that made her shake. Those loud, bright chords so familiar to all. The entire congregation had risen to their feet at the first one, heads swiveling to the back, one hundred and fifty pairs of eyes fixing on her.

She’d smiled to hide her terror.

She wasn’t an exhibitionist. She’d never liked being the center of attention. This was definitely a lot of attention.

Rory covered her fingers where they rested in the crook of his arm and gave an encouraging squeeze. “Buck up,” he said with his deep, low-pitched voice. “You got this.”

She flashed him a smile, a real smile, some of her tension easing. “This is crazy,” she whispered. “So many people.”

“All here for you, darlin’.”

And then they were walking, and she wobbled in her heels, but not as badly as she’d feared. She pulled her shoulders back with every step, standing taller, her attention on Lawrence and TJ where they stood together at the front of the church.

TJ was wriggling away from Lawrence, trying to escape.

Lawrence’s hand rested on TJ’s shoulder, trying to keep him in place.

In a flash, McKenna saw the future, realizing that this was how it’d always be. They were so different, those two. TJ would always pull one way and Lawrence would pull the other. She’d have to be careful not to get caught in the middle. She’d have to learn to be neutral so that she didn’t put herself in the middle.

And then she was there, with Lawrence and TJ and all the groomsmen before the altar, the dark wood pews filled with family and friends behind her.

The music died.

The priest spoke a few words and Rory placed her hand into Lawrence’s and stepped away.

Rory stepping away was significant. She was leaving the Douglas family to start a new life as a Joplin. Her chest squeezed with a rush of emotion. Her life was changing. Everything was changing. She was glad. But it was also somewhat overwhelming—

“Wait. Stop.” A deep voice rang out from the back of the church. “I’d like a word with McKenna.”

She knew that voice.

But he couldn’t be here. He couldn’t be. He was in jail.

Wasn’t he?

Heart thudding, she pulled her hand from Lawrence’s to turn around, aware that the church had gone strangely quiet. No music. No voices. Nothing but Trey in the middle of the red carpeted aisle, and candles flickering on the lip of each of the stained glass windows.

Dark handsome Trey, still so tall and lean and intimidating even in an expensive black suit and black dress shirt.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe. For a moment she just looked at him, gaze locking with his.

Trey.

Here.

Now.

For a moment all she could do was drink him in as the past fell away and the future disappeared and there was nothing but now. And he looked more beautiful now than ever before. Her beautiful Trey.

Her beautiful destructive Trey.

He’d had this effect on her from the very beginning…such a fierce, visceral reaction. A recognition so deep that she couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t felt devastatingly important. Just one look into his eyes and she felt connected, connected deep, all the way through her heart and tissue and bones.

No one had ever understood her love, or attraction. Friends had rolled their eyes when she said she felt connected to his soul…

It wasn’t normal, they said. Wasn’t healthy.

But that was how it had always been with them.

Deep and fierce…a love that was all consuming. A love that was endless.

“Momma.” TJ was suddenly there at her side, his small fingers snaking into her left hand as she clutched her bouquet in the right. “Is that…is that—”

“Hello, Tiger.” Trey’s deep voice seemed to rumble from his chest. The corners of his mouth lifted but his expression looked pained.

Haunted.

“Daddy?” TJ whispered.

McKenna’s eyes burned. Her pulse continued to race. “This isn’t the time, Trey,” she said quietly, and yet in the hush of the church, her voice carried, clear, loud.

“If you’ll excuse us—”

“I need five minutes.”

Rory was on his feet. “You don’t have five minutes.”

Quinn rose, tall and broad, next to Rory. “Think you need to see yourself out, Sheenan.”

Trey didn’t even glance at her brothers. His gaze rested squarely on McKenna and TJ. “Five minutes,” he repeated.

“I don’t want this to be ugly,” Rory said, leaving the pew, moving towards McKenna.

She lifted a hand to stop him. She had to control this. Her brothers would just make it worse. “TJ’s waited a long time to see you,” she said, voice husky. “Protect him now.”

Trey winced and glanced down at TJ, a shadow crossing his features. She saw pain in his eyes, regret, too, and she had to steel herself against the wave of emotion slamming into her, because Trey had made a lot of mistakes in his life but he had always adored his baby boy. He had always been so patient and sweet with TJ.

“Can we just step out and speak for a moment?” Trey asked, looking back up at her, looking straight into her eyes.

She started to shake her head. She started to tell him no but she could feel his anguish and his love for TJ, and it made her eyes burn and her throat swell closed.

She should hate him for what he’d put them through, but she couldn’t hate him. Couldn’t hate him when her little boy looked just like him, and walked like him, and talked like him. TJ was Trey in miniature…

She glanced at Lawrence, who’d come from the front of the church to stand behind her, somber and protective. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” she said crisply, before squaring her shoulders and marching back down the aisle, head high, refusing to make eye contact with any of the guests who’d been breathlessly observing the drama unfolding.

*

Outside as McKenna
faced him, Trey could tell she was fighting mad, her green eyes flashing, her high cheekbones a vivid pink.

She’d always been beautiful, but with her dark red hair swept up and covered by the tiara and veil, leaving her neck and shoulders bare, she looked ethereal and fragile, almost too delicate for the white silk wedding gown with the fitted bodice and full tulle skirt.

“You’re thin,” he said, frowning at her.

“I’ve always been,” she retorted, shivering at a gust of icy wind. “And what are you doing here? I’d think this would be the last place you’d want to be.”