Four Weddings and a Break Up (4 page)

Wes steadied his voice. “I know that, Jake. I’m here to help out.”

“Good.” Jake pushed away from the railing. “You can start by going to the market and making dinner.”

Not a great welcome home by any means.

G
inny turned
her cart down the frozen food aisle of Price Chopper when she got the shock of her life.

Mr. Dangerous was putting a couple frozen pizzas in his cart.

The shock of seeing Wes again—and so soon—after she’d pretty much thought that their one time thing had been the end of it had her stalling at the end of the aisle. Her stomach did flips, and she placed her hand to her racing heart.

He lived in Cape Hope.

She hadn’t expected to see him ever again. While he was even hotter in the daylight (no small feat given the unattractive florescent grocery store lighting), she had wanted last night to remain in Atlantic City.

Apparently what happened in Atlantic City didn’t stay in Atlantic City.

Oh, God. What if he said something to other people? Cape Hope was a small beach community. It was the type of place where everyone knew everyone else. Gossip spread quicker than wildfire.

Take a chill pill, Ginny. You’re overreacting
.

She shouldn’t care what anyone else thought anyway. But ever since being labeled a “hero,” she’d been under scrutiny—most of it well meaning. Still people watched her, approached her, hailed her as someone with outstanding morals and bravery and courage that surpassed most others.

It was all fake.

She wasn’t brave or courageous, and she definitely wasn’t a hero. Kyle had killed himself in front of her eyes, and she hadn’t seen the signs that he’d been bullied—that he had felt the only option had been to bring a gun into school to stop his tormentors. Every day she had to live with that. A student of hers had died. No matter if he had shot her or the other student. Guilt and blame were constant companions.

Except for last night. When she’d been able to push all of that out of her mind with Mr. Dangerous—no, Wes. It was only a one-night stand in the barest sense of the definition. That wasn’t so scandalous, right? Plus she hadn’t heard anything about Wes living here. And a single man that gorgeous would have been noticed. Even in the market, he was getting eyed, and not too discreetly.

She debated turning the other way—to leave before he looked up and saw her standing there. The situation could be awkward. Ginny rolled her eyes.
Hello, genius
! Of course it would be awkward. She could only imagine what he would think. It wasn’t as if he expected—or wanted—to run into her again.

Well, the same went for her. After all, she hadn’t thought to ever see him again. Sure, he might be sexy as all hell, and last night had literally rocked her world. But it was just sex. It wasn’t like she wanted a relationship anyway. She wasn’t in the place for one.

She would just turn her cart around and avoid him. That sounded like the best thing to do. She might run into him some point or another; that was pretty much a given, since Cape Hope’s population was about 4,000, although in the summer it swelled to ten times that amount.

Still if she met him at the Founder’s Day picnic or the Glorious Food festival, she could prepare herself better. She would think of witty things to say so that if he said something idiotic—which undeniably he would, since his
let’s just keep this to what it was
comment was still running through her head—she would have a quick rejoinder.

However, her body decided not to listen to her brain today.

Stupid
.

Stupid
.

Stupid
.

She found herself pushing her cart forward until she stopped a few feet in front of him. Her pulse was like a rocket launched into space, and her hands had grown clammy. She quickly wiped them on her capris and took a deep breath. Wes removed some frozen dinners and started to place them in his cart when he noticed her.

“Do you need to get in?” He didn’t wait for her answer, but simply made room for her to open up the freezer door.

She didn’t move.

He didn’t even remember her.

H
er breath suspended
in her stomach. It felt like she’d been sucker punched. Of any reaction in the world, she hadn’t expected him to
forget her
.

Last night had been something fabulous for her. For him, it didn’t even register on his dial. So much for his claims that he would have noticed her. She should have recognized the pick up line when she heard it, but he had seemed so sincere last night.
Stupid, Ginny
.

Her hands tightened around the handle of the shopping cart, but otherwise, her body was still frozen in place. Her cheeks were heated, probably a flaming red by now, and a large lump had formed in her throat. Her faux victory was stripped away and added to the bonfire of her utter embarrassment. The bitter tinges of regret scalded her. This is why she never did
anything
outside of her comfort zone because there were always consequences. How could she have forgotten that?

She moved to the freezer area, letting the blast of cold knock some much-needed sense into her. She’d gone thirty-three years of her life not knowing Mr. Dangerous, and one night—no, she corrected, twenty-four minutes—didn’t change anything. Yet when she had discounted ever seeing him again and then being thrust in proximity to him, a small part of her wondered if it was a sign. That perhaps Fate was trying to force them together—like
When Harry Met Sally
, or even better, a John Hughes movie. Ginny should have realized three things:

1) She was no Molly Ringwald.

2) Fate was a bitch.

And . . .

3) Wes’ whole not even remembering her was a Romantic Comedy Don’t.

He should remember her. The jerk. It was hurtful and disappointing that the experience was so forgetful—that
she
was. And that he couldn’t even recall her name the next day. How many women did he do this with? Perhaps he was always the type to cut and run. Or when he had sex, he’d wipe it out of his memory, like one of those things Will Smith used in
Men in Black
.

What did it matter? It was a perfect escape. He didn’t remember her, so there was no way he was going to brag about what had happened. She was off the hook. She should be thanking the lord instead of moping. After mindlessly picking a few meals, she turned back around and put them in her cart.

He had moved down the aisle and was about to turn the corner when he drew to a sudden halt. Like a gunslinger from an old Western movie, he whirled around. His eyes narrowed. Leaving his cart behind, he walked toward her. Her whole body went on high alert. He looked embarrassed.

She’d forgotten how hot he was—the firm, square jaw line, strong nose, and those steely gray eyes. His black hair was straight, if a little on the long side. She had to crane her neck to look up at him, and his shoulders were so broad, and his body so hard and strong. He’d lifted her last night as if she didn’t weigh more than a feather, and there had been something so sexy about that act. This was how trouble started.

He was Mr. Dangerous for a reason.

“Ginny? I didn’t recognize you.”

Yeah. She’d gotten that loud and clear. “It must be hard with all the lights on.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was amused by her sarcasm. A hint of devilment twinkled in his eyes, daring her to join in on the fun. “Plus, no rain.”

That was another resolution she was adding to the list: No more dares.
That
had been the cause of all of this.

She pushed her cart farther down the aisle, toward the ice cream section. She was highly aware of him following beside her. She picked out a carton of strawberry ice cream and started to place it in her cart. She only had a few more items to pick out anyway.

Wes was looking at the four packages of Ding Dongs in her cart. There had been a buy one, get half off, so Ginny had figured why not double the amount.

“You like Ding Dongs, huh?”

“Yeah.” She knew her tone was guarded, but the way he’d asked the question made her grind her teeth. It almost felt like a criticism of sorts, that perhaps she wasn’t the skinniest girl on the planet because she liked sweets. Sue her.

Maybe he was regretting what had happened last night, too. Maybe it was the case where he’d also been drunk and hadn’t really
seen
her, and now that he had taken off the beer goggles, he was horrified to realize that she wasn’t thin or gorgeous or special. Not in the way it mattered anyway.

“It was nice running into you again,” she managed shortly. Then she started walking as fast as she could down the aisle. If only she had avoided this aisle when she’d seen him. If only she hadn’t taken up that stupid dare last night. If only—

“Hey, wait up,” he called out after her.

She pretended not to hear him and started to turn the corner where his cart was stationed. She stopped.

He had Ding Dongs, too.

So what? This wasn’t a sign. Ding Dongs were Ding Dongs were Ding Dongs. But perhaps she had jumped to conclusions. Just because her ex—or Mr. Rat Bastard—had criticized her eating habits and her weight didn’t mean all men were of the scumbag variety. Except Wes hadn’t remembered her, which definitely marked him as a scumbag. She didn’t want to wait for him. She owed him nothing.

Distracted, she turned down the snack food aisle. Well, since today was officially going to hell in a hand basket, she may as well go all out on snacks. Lime Tostitos and salsa con queso, here we come.

His hand at her elbow halted her. She let out a small sound of surprise and turned to him, her eyes rounded. Then she narrowed them as his fingers lightly pressed against her skin. It was so wrong that the hairs on the back of her neck rose; that images of last night flashed across her vision.

He dropped his hand and held both up in entreaty. “I’m sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for—because he touched her or didn’t remember her.

“Back there”—his head jerked in the direction of the frozen foods—“I was distracted when I saw you. My mind was on other things, and . . .” His shoulders lifted and then fell. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” she said automatically.

His eyebrow merely rose in disbelief. “Either way, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

This time it was she who gave him the look. This was the same guy who clarified things last night. Wes must have realized what she was thinking because he looked ashamed. For some reason, Ginny had the distinct impression that this man didn’t admit any wrongdoing. And really, all she had wanted was to keep it simple. They had laid out the rules last night, and she’d stick to them.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said. “I got the message loud and clear. I appreciate the apology, but it’s not like—”

“You don’t believe me?”

No. Not really. But she also wanted to get out of there. “I’m sure it was a mistake. It’s not like it was anything serious. I don’t even know your last name, so—”

“It’s Dalton. Wes Dalton.” He waited. “Yours?”

She hesitated in answering. “It’s Michaels.”

Her full name really didn’t seem to have any effect on him, thank goodness. Fortunately, her story had been in and out of the national news in a blink of an eye. A small-town English teacher getting shot didn’t compare to the latest celebrity’s wedding. A ball of relief unraveled in her—Wes truly didn’t know her story. She was a blank slate to him. How long had it been since something like that had happened? She wrinkled her nose at the answer. Too long.

Her thoughts once again returned to last night, and how Deb was getting married next month on the Fourth of July. And how Ginny’s mom had decided it was her mission in life to see Ginny settled with a husband, a baby on the way, and a house with a white picket fence. Her mom didn’t get that her problems didn’t stem from being single.

Absently, she pressed her hand to her upper side, where the bullet had struck her liver. There had been so much blood, and she’d been so scared that she would die, along with the other student whom Kyle had shot. Her heart started to kick up in speed, and Ginny quickly banished the memories of that day. This is why she didn’t think about what had happened. If she did, she’d be reliving it, and her pulse would race and panic would set in, and everything she’d lived through would have been for nothing.

She forced her mind back to her mom, and how her mom was after her to get a date for Deb’s wedding. That was a safe topic. It might be irritating, but it didn’t cause any fears. After all, unlike her sister, Ginny didn’t have to wear a pink crinoline bridesmaid dress. And it wasn’t like Ginny had a line of guys banging on her door, wanting to date her.
The Bachelorette
, she was not. Her past was enough to scare any guy off, especially ones who lived in Cape Hope.

“Are you here for vacation or something?” Just because she thought his excuse was paltry didn’t mean she acted like a bitch. But she wasn’t going to lay out the welcome mat either.

He reached for a bag of barbeque chips. “Family stuff.”

If he had family here, then why wasn’t the last name “Dalton” ringing a bell for her?

“You live here, too?”

“Yes.” She placed some pretzels in her cart. The conversation was so stilted and awkward, a complete 180 degrees from last night. That wasn’t a total surprise to her—especially since they both hadn’t counted on seeing each other again and Wes hadn’t even recognized her at first. Kind of put a damper on things.

“So—”

“Wes,” she said at the same time. Her cheeks heated even more, and she waved a hand about. “Go ahead.”

Before he could open his mouth, someone called her name. Ginny turned. It was the town gossip, Lois Jacobs.

Just what she needed.

“It was nice seeing you,” she said in a hurried rush. Lois was making a beeline straight toward them. It was only a matter of moments before she arrived, and once she did, it would take even less time for Lois to blurt out Ginny’s past. Perhaps if she could steer Wes out of the way or—

“Ginny!” A cart sounded behind her.

Ginny closed her eyes. Too late. Damn and double damn.

“Ginny,” Lois called out again. “I can’t believe you know Wes!”

“Hello again, Mrs. Jacobs.”

So Wes and Lois knew each other. How?

Calculated interest glinted in Lois’s blue eyes, her white hair framing her round face. She was like an evil Betty White. “So, Ginny, is this your new guy?”

“Wes?”

“Yes. Remember a couple of days ago when I tried to set you up with Bob, you said no because you already had a date?”

Ginny had no desire to date a guy who actually called himself Bob the Builder in real life. Especially one who reeked of alcohol. “Oh yes. The date.”

“Is Wes your date? Because if so, you work very fast. Especially since Wes just moved back here at 10:15 a.m.”

“You remembered when I moved in?” Wes asked.

Lois pointed to her watch. “I keep track of everything. I’m like Fort Knox.”

“Now, Mrs. Jacobs, don’t be tempting me to break into your vault.”

Lois tittered. She actually tittered like a young schoolgirl. “Oh, you!”

The moment of reprieve was gone when Lois turned her attention back to Ginny. “You know, Ginny, there are a lot of single men in Cape Hope. I could set you up with one of them. I mean, who wouldn’t want to date you?”

“Oh, wow, Mrs. Jacobs, that’s really sweet of you, but—”

“And you never said how you met Wes.”

Last night. We exchanged pleasantries. He told me he wanted me, and I told him I wanted him, too. And then we had really hot sex
. Yeah. Not exactly what she was going to say. “Ummmm—”

“In a bar at Atlantic City,” Wes said easily.

“Oh,” Lois said. “Ginny, your mom and I have talked. About you.”

She needed to have another talk with her mom.

“And, well, you are getting up there.”

Ginny gave Lois a look. There were rules among women. You didn’t mention weight or age.

“Maybe you should let me help.” Lois returned her look. “There is the Glorious Food festival this weekend. I could set you up with somebody.”

God, no. With Ginny’s luck, Lois would introduce her to another Bob. One who lived under the sea and wore square pants.

“That’s okay, Mrs. Jacobs. I already have a date.”

“Really?” Lois drawled out the word. “With who?”

“With—” Ginny searched for a name. Who could she make up on a whim’s notice? Certainly not Wes. “With—”

“With me,” Wes answered.

Ginny just stared at him, her mouth agape. She gave a nervous laugh. “Mrs. Jacobs, it’s not—”

“What you think,” he finished.

Her hands landed on her hips. She had not been about to say that. She was going to clarify that it wasn’t Wes.

“Oh, how great is this!” Lois clapped her hands together. “It’s like
Romeo and Juliet
. But with no warring families, no sad ending, and no dueling.”

“How is it
Romeo and Juliet
then?” Ginny asked.

“Because Wes is such a bad boy.” It was evident from Lois’s tone that she didn’t think this was a horrible thing. “He’s Nick Flaherty’s son. You know the Flahertys, Ginny.”

Of course she knew the Flahertys. Everyone knew them. Especially the sons: Jake, Seth, and TJ. Their dad had been sick for a while—first with lung cancer and now with Alzheimer’s. The family was well known and respected for remodeling Victorian homes according to town ordinances. Ginny had been in the same year as Jake, but they’d never run in the same crowds.

The Flaherty boys had been wild, dangerous, and very bad to know. But Jake had always been considered the more respectable of the other two, which wasn’t saying much. Stories of Seth and TJ’s high school days were still legendary in Cape Hope High when she’d taught. Perception of the Flaherty boys had changed as they’d grown up and matured. That was mostly because everyone saw how they’d taken care of their dad when he’d struggled with lung cancer five years ago.

“I didn’t know you were related to them,” she finally said. “Or that you’re—”

“I’m his son from his first marriage,” he said tightly. “Just here to help out for the summer.”

Oh. Even though his expression was guarded, she glimpsed the flicker of concern in his eyes. His dad. Ginny remembered hearing that his dad had been found wandering the streets near the lighthouse, disoriented. No wonder Wes was so distracted earlier. She wasn’t going to discount her wounded feelings but his forgetfulness made sense now.