Three Brides, No Groom (4 page)

She still had them clenched in her fist. He took them from her
and sighed as he ran his fingers through the uneven tresses, his touch strangely
intimate.

She swallowed tightly. “Roger insisted I keep it long,” she
whispered. Cutting it had been an act of defiance, a way of casting her former
fiancé from her life, but in doing so she’d only hurt herself.

Josh took his time clipping away here and there. At last he
stood back to admire his handiwork. “Not bad,” he said with a slow smile. “Even
if I do say so myself.”

Gretchen reached for her compact and flipped it open. With the
light from the fire and the moon, she could see that his touch had been
masterful. She barely recognized herself. She now wore a short pixielike cut
that flattered her cheekbones and deep blue eyes.

Her gaze returned to Josh. “You’re a man of many talents. Thank
you,” she murmured.

Her words appeared to please him. He reached for his knife and
the stick he’d been sharpening earlier. “I don’t know about you, but I’m
starved.”

Gretchen couldn’t have eaten if her life depended on it. She
sat with her chin resting on her knees and studied the fire. “You go ahead. I’m
not hungry.”

They sat side by side, surrounded by the sound of the ocean and
the crackle of the fire as he cooked himself a wiener.

“Is it true what Roger said?” she wondered aloud. “About your
father being in prison?” She wasn’t sure what had prompted the question.
Probably she should never have asked.

Josh stilled. “Yes.” But he didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t
question him further. Although he claimed to be hungry, he didn’t eat more than
one hot dog. For a long time afterward he sat cross-legged on the blanket he’d
brought, staring into the flames as though hypnotized.

“Josh,” she whispered, after the uncomfortable silence grew too
long to bear. He didn’t look at her right away. She waited until he grudgingly
gave her his attention. “I’m sorry. I had no business asking you about your
father.”

Without acknowledging her apology, he rose to his feet and
disappeared into the darkness. She watched him go, resisting the urge to go
after him and apologize again. Angry with herself, she pressed her forehead
against her knees and wondered how she could have been so insensitive to a man
who’d been nothing but kind and helpful.

After the tumultuous events of the day, she was convinced she
would never be able to sleep. She stretched out on the blanket, covered herself
with a thick sweater and tucked her head against her bent arm. She was asleep
almost immediately, only to jerk awake a moment later. That happened several
more times before the physical demands of her body won out over the emotional
trauma of the day.

Gretchen wasn’t sure at what point during the night Josh joined
her. Her eyes fluttered open to see that the fire had died down to glimmering
coals. She was on her back, and all she could see was the dense spattering of
stars above. She rolled her head to one side and found Josh asleep on the other
side of the blanket. Relieved that he was back, she rolled onto her side and
tucked her sweater more closely about her shoulders.

The next thing she was aware of was the loud discordant cry of
a seagull. She opened her eyes to gray light. To her surprise, she felt warm and
cozy, although the fire had long since died out. She soon realized the source of
her comfort. Josh had placed his leather jacket over her shoulders. He sat
nearby, his hair apparently wet from a shower.

“What time is it?” she asked, lazily stretching her arms above
her head and yawning.

He grinned. “Morning.”

“That much I guessed.” Raising herself on one elbow, she
strained to see her watch.

“About five-thirty or six, I’d guess,” he said, looking toward
the water.

She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then realized
she was famished. Her stomach growled loudly. “Oh, dear,” she said, and
flattened her hand against her abdomen.

“Looks like we’d best scrounge up something to eat,” he said.
He stood and extended his hand to her. It took them a while to pack up
everything. While he loaded up the Harley, she brushed her teeth in the rest
room, put on some lip gloss and combed her hair, amazed again at the
transformation the haircut made in her appearance. She doubted that Roger would
even recognize her now.

When they rode into town and parked the Harley at a curb,
another question came to mind, one she had a feeling Josh could answer. Needing
someone to hold on to, she slipped her hand into his.

“How well do you know Didi Wilson?” she asked. She’d often seen
Didi with Josh. She knew it was none of her concern. Nevertheless she needed to
know.

His gaze narrowed, and his steps slowed. “How much did Didi
tell you about her and Roger?”

She frowned, her hand still in his. “Just that…that she was at
the fraternity party with him.”

Josh’s fingers tightened around hers.

“I don’t hate Didi,” she said, although it was difficult to
regard the other woman with kindness. In many ways Didi had done her a favor,
though it was difficult to think of it in those terms at that moment.

Josh heaved a deep sigh, and his hand tightened around hers.
“Didi’s pregnant.”

“How can she know so soon?” Gretchen asked indignantly, and
then it hit her. Hard. Square between the eyes. Roger hadn’t been with Didi
Wilson just that one time but several. She closed her eyes and swayed with both
shock and anger.

“How long have they been lovers?” she demanded. When he
hesitated, she asked again, steeling herself for the answer. “Tell me, Josh. I
have a right to know.”

“Six months, maybe more.”

She grimaced and clenched her free hand into a fist at her
side. The entire time she’d been engaged to Roger, he’d been physically involved
with Didi. It was enough to make her ill. She recalled all those afternoons he’d
been late to meet her. It got to be a big joke between them. All the nights when
he’d claimed he was studying. She should have known, should have realized. What
about her friends? Her face burned with the realization that others must have
known and yet no one had bothered to tell her.

As if reading her thoughts, Josh said, “Roger kept it quiet. I
doubt anyone else knew.”

“
You
did,” she said.

“Didi’s my friend.”

But she noted he didn’t say how good a friend the woman
was.

“Does Roger know about the baby?” she asked, once she found her
voice.

“No.” Josh shook his head.

“Is Didi going to tell him?”

Again Josh paused. “I don’t know. That decision is hers.”

She studied him, and wondered if he had been Didi’s lover, too.
If so, she didn’t want to know about it.

His grip on her hand relaxed. “Come on, you look like you could
use a cup of coffee.” He led her to a café on the main street and held the door
for her. Although it was still early, the place was busy. With a majority of the
tables occupied, Josh opted to sit at the counter. Once they were settled, he
handed Gretchen a menu.

The harried waitress cast them an apologetic smile as she raced
by, her arms loaded down with plates. “I’ll be with you folks as soon as I
can.”

“We’re in no hurry,” Josh assured her.

The woman returned a few minutes later with the coffeepot. “The
other waitress called in sick at the last minute, along with the dishwasher.
Mighty convenient case of the flu, if you ask me,” she said as she filled their
cups.

The cook slapped the bell and set two more plates on the shelf.
The waitress glanced over her shoulder and grumbled under her breath. “I’ll be
back to take your order in a minute. I don’t want those breakfasts to get
cold.”

“No problem,” Gretchen said.

Josh helped himself to a couple of doughnuts from a plate
beneath a plastic dome. He handed one to Gretchen.

As the waitress moved past, Josh said to her, “Listen, if
you’re shorthanded, I can wash dishes.”

The waitress hesitated.

“All I want in exchange is a decent breakfast for me and my
friend.”

“Harry,” the waitress called into the kitchen. “We got
ourselves a volunteer. The guy claims he can wash dishes.” She looked at
Gretchen. “What about you, honey? Did you ever wait tables?”

Gretchen could see that Josh was about to answer for her.
“Sure,” she said quickly, although it was a bald-faced lie. She brushed the
doughnut crumbs from her hands and slipped off the stool.

“There’s an apron and an order pad behind the counter.”

“Great,” Gretchen said. She wasn’t at all sure she would be
able to pull it off, but she was willing to try. She tossed Josh a saucy grin as
she tied the apron around her waist. Then he disappeared into the kitchen.

“If you’d do the coffee refills, I’d appreciate it,” the
waitress said, swishing past her. “Those tables need to be cleaned, too.” She
pointed at two that had just emptied. “By the way, my name’s Marge.”

“I’m Gretchen.” She reached for the glass coffeepot. It didn’t
demand a lot of skill to refill coffee cups around the room. Once she’d finished
that, she found a large square tub and hauled it over to the vacated tables,
then dumped the dirty dishes inside. After she wiped the surface clean and
handed Marge her tip money, she turned to discover the tables had already filled
up with new customers.

By the time the breakfast crowd had thinned out, it was
midmorning. Gretchen sat down and counted her tips. She had collected close to
twenty bucks.

“Sure do appreciate the help,” Marge said, sitting down next to
her at the counter.

“Glad I could do it.”

Josh appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish
towel.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a cow,” Gretchen said.

Marge winked at Josh, then looked toward the kitchen. “Harry,
cook me up a couple of our best steaks, and don’t be frying up any of those
skinny breakfast ones, either. These kids deserve T-bones.”

Chapter 3

G
retchen couldn’t remember when she’d
enjoyed a meal more, although she felt like a fraud accepting it. Her
waitressing skills left a lot to be desired, and by the end of three hours her
feet hurt, her back ached, and she had a new appreciation of the skills required
to wait tables.

It was almost noon by the time they were back on the road.
Unlike the previous day, when they’d ridden hour upon hour without a break, Josh
stopped every ten or fifteen miles, wherever there was a scenic overlook.
Gretchen had traveled down the Oregon coast any number of times and found the
scenery breathtaking. But nothing compared to viewing the magnificence on a
bright sunny day in June from the back of Josh’s Harley. It went a long way, in
fact, to assuaging the ache in her heart.

She didn’t want to think about Roger or the wedding, and yet
they filled every corner of her mind. She didn’t mention his name, not once,
during any of their stops, but she talked about everything else without pausing
for breath. Josh’s patience was nothing short of miraculous. She couldn’t
remember ever being so talkative. She told him story upon story of growing up in
San Francisco. She endlessly bragged about her older brother, and dragged out
four or five pictures of her eighteen-month-old niece.

At each stop Josh would sit on the rock-wall railing with his
back to the ocean and listen as if he’d never heard anything more fascinating.
Gretchen wished she’d paid more attention in psychology class so she could
appreciate what was happening to her. Could analyze it and stop this infernal
chattering.

He rarely commented, just sat and listened, nodding and smiling
now and again. Their last stop to view the scenery was Rockaway Beach. While
standing in the glorious sunshine, looking out over the relentless surf, she
started laughing as she told a story about her niece. She’d asked Jazmine to get
her a pair of shoes, and the toddler had promptly delivered every pair Gretchen
owned.

As she neared the end of the tale, her laughter altered and
unexpected tears flooded into her eyes. “I…I don’t know why I’m going on like
this,” she said when she found it impossible to hide what was happening.

“I know why.” He stood and gently placed his hands on her
shoulders. Then, with a tenderness that made her want to weep even more, he
pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right, Gretchen. Go
ahead and cry. You’re hurting. The man you loved isn’t the person you thought he
was.”

Like water through a burst dam, her sobs broke free. They
seemed to surge upward from the deepest part of her, until it wasn’t only her
shoulders that shook but her entire body. She tried to break away from Josh, but
he wouldn’t allow it. He pressed her closer, murmuring words of comfort all the
while.

She clung to him, burying her head against his shoulder,
letting him absorb her anger and hurt. The roar of the ocean slamming against
the rocks seemed to echo her pain.

Once her energy was spent and her sobs turned to sniffles, she
eased away, keeping her head lowered in embarrassment. He would have none of it.
He tucked his index finger beneath her chin, raised her head and met her
eyes.

“It’s all right,” he said.

A slight smile trembled at the corners of her mouth, and she
nodded.

“I give up.” The words were half whisper and half groan. As
soon as he said them, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and deep,
so deep she felt it all the way to her toes. Intense, yet incredibly tender.

After a moment Josh slid his fingers into her short hair,
cupping the sides of her head as he angled his mouth over hers, urging her lips
apart with the tip of his tongue. He sighed when, in a daze, she accepted his
invitation and opened for him. Shyly her tongue met his, but gradually she
gained confidence as the kissing continued. What had begun as a slow easy
exercise quickly became demanding and urgent.

She wasn’t sure what would have happened if a car hadn’t pulled
off the highway just then. Hearing the sound of wheels grinding against the
gravel, Josh broke off contact. He studied her for a moment.

“You OK?” he asked, touching his forehead to hers while holding
her face between his hands.

She nodded, not knowing how else to answer him. But she
wasn’t
OK. She’d been weeping for one man and kissing
another. And liking it so much she hadn’t wanted to stop. She glared at the new
arrivals, wishing they would leave, then realized how ridiculous she was
being.

“We better get back on the road,” Josh said, steering her
toward the Harley.

Although she followed him silently, her mind brewed with
half-formed questions. First and foremost she wanted to know what had prompted
him to kiss her. She didn’t want his pity, but at the same time, she knew she
would be a fool to believe any part of that soul-stirring kiss had been because
he felt sorry for her.

Once she was safely tucked behind him on the Harley, he started
the bike and steered them back onto the road. The wind whipped against her face,
and she closed her eyes. Josh was dangerous—that was what she’d always heard.
Now she knew why. The danger wasn’t his arrogance, the way he challenged
authority or defied danger. It was the effortless way he could make a woman feel
desirable.

They didn’t stop again for what seemed like hours. The day
before she had held herself away from Josh, her spine rigid, determined to
minimize any physical contact. Not so now. Her grip around his waist was tight;
she craved the physical reassurance of his solid body.

Josh stopped in Tillamook when they hit a red light. “You
hungry?” he asked.

She realized, somewhat to her surprise, that she was. “Yeah, I
guess I am.” Then, knowing their finances were limited, she asked, “What can we
afford?”

“Cheese.”

“Cheese?” While she knew neither one of them had a lot of cash,
she didn’t think they were in dire straits.

“Some of the best in the country. I’ll show you.”

Tillamook was home to a huge dairy-products factory. She smiled
and flattened her cheek against his back, grateful to have him for a friend. It
felt good and right to be this close to him. Her entire four years of college,
she’d barely talked to him. By any reasonable measure they were little more than
strangers, yet she felt closer to him after these two days together than she did
to some of her sorority sisters with whom she’d lived for years.

Josh turned left at the next light and then pulled into a large
bustling parking lot. The building was enormous, complete with gift shop,
touring areas, and plenty of free samples of a surprisingly large selection of
cheeses and ice cream. He purchased a box of crackers, some cheese and a bottle
of red wine.

“For a picnic,” he explained, as they headed back to the bike.
He smiled, and it was such a rare thing it caught her unawares.

“You should do that more often,” she said, as she fastened the
strap of her helmet. At the question in his eyes, she said, “Smile.”

His response was to frown, drawing his thick eyebrows together
and darkening his face. Not for the first time, she was struck by what an
attractive man he was. She wasn’t alone, either. In the cheese factory, she had
noticed a number of women openly assessing him. Apparently they liked what they
saw. For his part, he appeared oblivious to the attention his looks
generated.

Seeing him now, wearing that well-practiced scowl, she couldn’t
help it, she laughed outright. It was all for show. Beneath that dark brooding
exterior lay a man with a kind and generous heart. A man she was only beginning
to know, yet already liked immensely.

“What?” he demanded.

“You. Let’s get moving, pal. I’m hungry.”

He grumbled something she couldn’t hear under his breath and
climbed on the Harley. Without hesitation, she positioned herself behind him and
automatically locked her arms around his middle. It felt so right and natural to
be close to him. Less than twenty-four hours earlier she’d made the most daring
move of her life by trusting him to deliver her home safely. And trust him she
did, more with each passing hour.

Josh found them a quiet corner on a secluded section of beach.
The afternoon was glorious. The ocean breeze was blessedly cool, and a thicket
of tall grass rustled softly behind them.

They sat on the blanket, nibbling the cheese and crackers, and
sipping the wine from plastic glasses. After a while, replete, Gretchen lay on
her back and gazed at the sky. She was amazed by how tranquil, how at peace, she
felt. Stretching her arms above her, she smiled lazily. All she could hear were
the waves pounding the shore and the frantic cries of gulls.

The wine seemed to have loosened her inhibitions—at least that
was what she blamed for the path her thoughts were traveling.

“Josh, can I ask you something?” she said.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Uncomfortable enough to
cause her to turn her head and look at him. He was sitting with his arms braced
behind him. “You don’t want me to ask you anything?” Surely he would want to
know the question and
then
decide if he would answer
it.

His frown was back, darker and more intimidating than ever.
“Are you looking for me to apologize for kissing you?”

“No!” If he did, she would be offended. Her response to his
kiss had been relegated to the far reaches of her mind. She needed time to
analyze what had prompted her heady reaction, but she wasn’t up to a lengthy
examination just yet.

“What, then?” He crossed his arms.

She closed her eyes and angled her face toward the sun rather
than look at him. “Never mind,” she said, silently laughing at him. “It wasn’t
important.”

“Ask me,” he barked.

She rolled onto her stomach and trained her gaze on the ocean.
“It has to do with Didi Wilson.”

“What about her?”

Gretchen paused, unsure now that she wanted to proceed, but the
need burned within her, and she knew she wouldn’t be completely at peace until
she discovered the answer. Besides, at this point she couldn’t walk away from
the subject gracefully. She inhaled and held her breath momentarily. “I realize
it’s none of my business…”

“Listen, if it has to do with Didi and Roger, I’d rather
not—”

“No,” she said, interrupting him. “Not them. This has to do
with Didi and
you.
” Her words were like a hatchet
coming down on a chopping block.

His gaze pinned her. She exhaled sharply and blurted, “Have
you…did you and Didi…you know…do that?” She couldn’t make herself say the words.
Make love. Did you make love to Didi?
Her heart
was laid open, exposed, revealing everything. Over the past six months she’d
frequently seen Didi riding through the campus on the back of Josh’s Harley. Her
arms had squeezed him, her ample assets pressed against his back.

Now she knew that Josh hadn’t been Didi’s only love interest.
With a shock, she realized that while the news of Didi and Roger had shattered
her world, if she learned that Josh had been Didi’s lover, as well, she would be
devastated. She should have known better than to ask a question when she was
afraid of the answer.

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know,” she said
hurriedly, then leaped to her feet, kicked off her shoes and raced toward the
surf. Her face burned with humiliation, but she had no one to blame but herself.
She raced into the ocean, gasping at how cold it was. The surf surged against
her thighs before she stopped running. Her pulse pounded in her temple.

“Gretchen!”

She heard Josh call, but she ignored him. The lunch that had
made her feel so pleasantly replete now felt like a rock-hard lump in the pit of
her stomach.

“Come on, Gretchen, would you listen to me?” He stood at the
water’s edge, glaring at her.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said. “It was none of my
business. Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She pranced about in
the shallows, trying to make him think she was having the time of her life.

“Stop that right now.” It was the same tone of voice her father
used to employ with her when she was a child and misbehaving. A tone full of
authority she didn’t challenge.

She stopped playing in the surf and faced him.

“Didi’s my friend,” he said. “Nothing more. Never has been and
never will be. Understand?”

She nodded miserably.

Josh extended his hand to her in much the same way he had the
day before, when he’d invited her to climb onto the back of his motorcycle.
“Come here before you’re completely drenched.”

The water was so cold her feet had gone numb. Mustering every
shred of dignity she possessed, she remained where she was, her chin angled high
and proud. How desperately she longed to believe him!

“Don’t make me come in after you.”

“Would you?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but trust me, you’d regret it.”

The threat was as bold as the man himself. “Really?” She
reached down and with feigned nonchalance dangled her fingers in the water.

The challenge was there, bold as ever. The confidence he’d
exuded didn’t waver as he lowered himself onto the hot sand and removed his
boots one at a time. Then he stood and unfastened his belt.

“Josh.” She watched, fascinated.

“I’m not getting these jeans wet. It’s uncomfortable riding in
wet pants.” He peeled down the zipper and hooked his thumbs through the belt
loops, clearly prepared to remove both his jeans and his underwear.

“Okay, okay. You win.” She raced out of the surf and onto the
beach, heading for the blanket. She heard him chuckle and call her a coward as
she passed him.

His taunts evolved into a sexy smile as he followed her back to
the blanket. It had been a childish thing to do, she thought, challenging him
that way. Especially when the outcome had already been decided. Josh would win
because he always won.