Hotter Than Ever (Out of Uniform) (2 page)

“What’s going on? Why can’t you marry Claire?” Rather than sit, he crossed his arms and loomed over his brother.

“Because she’s not the right woman for me.”

Are you fucking kidding me?

He tamped down the retort before it could pop out of his mouth. But come on, Chris was only reaching that conclusion
now
?

Dylan had known from day one that Claire McKinley wasn’t right for his brother. He’d been hoping Chris would eventually see it too, but he hadn’t expected it to happen ten minutes before the couple’s frickin’
wedding
. And it wasn’t just a small, private gathering that could easily be disbanded if Chris was actually serious about all this. This was an expensive, showy affair that would unleash waves and waves of gossip if the ceremony were cancelled. The senior partner of Chris’s law firm had graciously rented out the country club for the day so the couple could marry there. There were five hundred people waiting in that banquet hall, including Dylan’s mother, Shanna, who was over the moon about welcoming a daughter into their family.

Shit. His mom was going to be crushed.

“I’ve been deluding myself for months,” Chris was saying, his voice lined with so much misery that Dylan felt a pang of sympathy for the guy. “I kept telling myself that I’d made the right decision by asking her to marry me. Claire’s smart, she’s successful, she’s beautiful. But she’s got a lot of flaws too, and…I thought…”

Dylan sank into the other armchair. “You thought what?”

“That she would change.” Chris shrugged helplessly. “I was hoping she’d eventually start acting like…I don’t know, like the woman I wanted her to be.”

“For fuck’s sake, Chris, you were waiting around hoping your fiancée’s entire personality would
change
?”

It also didn’t escape him that his brother hadn’t said a word about love. Not even once. But he decided not to point that out.

“I’m an idiot, okay?” Chris dragged a hand through his perfectly groomed blond hair. “Deep down I knew it wasn’t right, but I kept telling myself I had to go through with it. The invitations were already sent out, and Mom was so excited, and then Lowenstein booked us the Lavender Ballroom at the frickin’ Marin Hills Golf Club as a wedding gift—I couldn’t exactly tell the senior partner of my firm,
hey, no thanks, the wedding is off
.”

Chris’s breathing grew labored. He was visibly trembling now, and Dylan had never seen his brother’s face so pale before.

“I should have listened to Maxwell,” Chris muttered. “He told me she wasn’t a good enough prospect, he—”

“Wait a minute, what?”

“Pres Maxwell—he’s one of the associates at the firm. He and his wife are members here—they’re the ones who nominated Claire and me for membership—and last weekend we had lunch with them. I played a few rounds with Pres and the boys, and Claire spent some time with the other wives.” Chris’s lips tightened. “I don’t know what was said exactly, but Pres pulled me aside on Monday morning and said that Claire told the women some personal details about her past. And they weren’t
respectable
details, if you know what I mean.”

Dylan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He sometimes forgot what a prude his brother was.

“Okay, so she talked to the country club ladies about sex. Are you telling me
that’s
why you’re breaking it off?”

His brother’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I
told
you why I’m doing this, Dylan. That was just one example of how she’s not a good match for me.” Chris abruptly shot to his feet. “I can’t marry her. I can’t be with a woman who doesn’t respect me.”

“Who says she doesn’t?”

“There’s a lot more you don’t know,” Chris said darkly. “Unlike Claire, I’m not going to talk out of turn. Our personal shit and certain
indiscretions
aren’t anybody’s business but ours. Just trust me when I say that I need to end this.”

Dylan narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying she fucked around on you?”

“I’m not saying anything.” Now those green eyes were imploring him, shining with fear. “You’ve got to tell her the wedding is cancelled.”

“I’m not breaking up with your bride for you, damn it.”

“But you’re the best man,” Chris protested. “And you’re my brother.”

“As your best man, I’m in charge of holding on to the rings and standing next to you at the altar. As your brother, I’m responsible for supporting you and clapping politely when you kiss the bride. Neither of those roles requires me to call off your fucking wedding!”

“Please, Dyl. I can’t do it. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Dylan’s jaw fell open. “Dumping her five minutes before your wedding is going to hurt her. You realize that, right?”

“I know. But…goddammit! If that friend of hers was here, she could be the one to talk to Claire, but Dr. Dyke couldn’t be bothered to fly in, so—”

“Whoa,” Dylan interrupted, an edge to his voice. “Uncool, dude.”

Chris’s expression conveyed a flicker of remorse. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m just so irritated that her so-called best friend skipped the wedding.”

Maybe she knew there’d never be a wedding
.

Dylan bit back the snippy remark. “Well, Claire’s BFF isn’t here to do your dirty work, and I won’t do it either. You have to talk to her, bro. You have to clean up your own mess.”

The panic that erupted in Chris’s eyes would have been comical if it weren’t so infuriating. “Dylan—”

“I mean it. You can’t dump this on anyone else, no matter how painful and uncomfortable it’s going to be. You’re a thirty-two-year-old man, Chris. You can’t ask me to break up with Claire for you.”

After a long moment of silence, Chris’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I know. You’re right.”

An enormous weight lifted off Dylan’s chest. Finally, his brother was seeing reason.

“Talk to her,” he said gently. “Tell her everything you’re feeling, man. Maybe you two can work through it and the wedding will go on as scheduled.”

“It won’t.” Chris drew a deep breath, then smoothed out the front of his black suit jacket. “The partners will understand, right?” he said, sounding desperate.

Disapproval stiffened Dylan’s muscles. Was Chris seriously concerned about how his law firm’s partners would react instead of worrying about how his
jilted bride
was going to feel? Wow. His brother had always been a tad self-absorbed and slightly pretentious, but at the moment, Dylan didn’t recognize the man in front of him.

“Forget about the partners,” he ordered. “Focus on your
fiancée
. Go find Claire. Now.”

With a quick nod, Chris turned around and left the room.

Battling his disbelief, Dylan took a moment to collect his composure. Shit. This was a complete clusterfuck. Should he find his mother and fill her in? Or should he wait until he knew for certain whether the wedding was off?

No, he ought to get his mom. If anything, she could at least be there to offer Claire some comfort after Chris dropped his bomb.

He was still stressed as hell as he marched out the door and down the pristine white-marble floor in the hallway. He’d just rounded the corner when he heard the click of high heels.

Speak of the devil—his mother was bounding toward him, her teal dress fluttering around her ankles with each quick step she took.

Dylan met her halfway, shaking his head in aggravation. “Thank God you’re here. We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

Shanna Wade’s green eyes were the same pale shade as her sons’ and swimming with the same shock Dylan was currently feeling.

“Dylan,” she said in a grim voice, “can you please explain why your brother just asked me to tell all the guests to go home?”

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach like a sinking rock. “He did what?”

“He told me to make an announcement that there won’t be a wedding.” She hesitated. “He said you were responsible for telling Claire.”

Dylan’s shoulders tensed. “What? Where is he now?”

His mom’s voice trembled. “He left.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

For once, Shanna didn’t reprimand him for dropping an F-bomb. “He went out the back. I was too flustered and confused to stop him, and then when I finally snapped out of it and ran outside, he was already driving away.”

Chris, you fucking asshole
.

Fury whipped through him, along with a wad of disgust that knotted around his insides. He couldn’t believe this. Chris had actually fled without telling Claire McKinley it was over. His brother had actually pulled an Elvis and
left the fucking building
.

“What do we do?”

His mom’s frantic demand penetrated his enraged thoughts. Taking a calming breath, Dylan reached for her hand and found that it was icy cold. He squeezed her delicate fingers and met her confused expression.

“You’re going to have to make the announcement,” he said softly. “Tell everyone there won’t be a wedding today.”

She looked panicked. “And say what? That my son got cold feet?”

“No. Don’t give any details. Just say the bride and groom had a change of heart, and the decision was mutual.”

Tears filled Shanna’s eyes. “Oh my God. How is this happening? Will you come with me?”

“I can’t. I have something else to take care of.”

“What are you doing?”

“What Chris was too much of a coward to do.” Dylan’s jaw tightened with anger. “I’m going to break up with his bride.”

“Do I look okay?” Biting her lip, Claire stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. The butterflies in her stomach were flying around in crazy circles, making it difficult to focus on the vision in white staring back at her.

“Okay? You look more than okay, sweetie. You look beautiful.” Nora McKinley appeared in the mirror, her brown eyes gleaming with pride and sparkling with unshed tears.

A queasy feeling tickled Claire’s belly. “Mom…”

“I mean it. You’re beautiful, inside and out.” Nora sniffled. “You’re the most wonderful daughter a mother could ever ask for, and I’m so very proud of you.”

Claire’s teeth sank harder into her bottom lip.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

She hadn’t even noticed the moisture welling up in her eyes, but that did explain why her reflection was blurry all of a sudden.

She blinked away the tears and turned to face her mother, who looked gorgeous and elegant in a peach-colored empire-cut dress that stopped just below her knees. Nora’s auburn hair was pulled back in a neat chignon, and with her perfect complexion and naturally red lips, Claire’s fifty-three-year-old mother didn’t look a day over forty.

“What’s going on, Claire? Are you nervous?”

“Yes.” She gulped. “But that’s normal, right? People get nervous before their wedding, don’t they?”

”Of course. It’s a perfectly normal response,” Nora said in a gentle tone. “Lots of brides get jittery right before the ceremony.”

”I wish Nat was here,” Claire murmured.

Her mother let out a soft sigh. “I know you’re upset that Natasha couldn’t be here, but you can’t dwell on that. Do you want me to get Michelle? Your maid of honor should really be here to help you get ready.”

”No, it’s all right. I just…I think I need a moment alone. Do you mind?”

A wrinkle appeared on Nora’s forehead, but she didn’t object to the request. “Of course not.” She stepped closer and gently stroked Claire’s cheek. “Michelle and I will come get you when it’s time.”

The second her mother was gone, Claire slid down to the carpeted floor in a pile of white lace.

Was
this normal? The nerves, the shaky hands and damp palms? When she was a little girl, she’d constantly fantasized about her wedding, imagined how elated she’d be when the big day finally came. Cold feet had never been part of the fantasy.

And neither had a full-blown panic attack.

The bodice of her dress suddenly felt too tight, making it impossible to breathe, and her hands were shaking so hard she had to dig her fingers into her thighs to still the erratic trembling.

Oh boy, this was bad. Heart racing, forehead dotted with sweat, palms tingling. Her wild gaze darted around the beautiful room, taking in the wood-paneled walls and expensive carpeting, the commanding fireplace and elegant furniture, the scent of money and leather hanging in the air.

Nothing about this felt right. She shouldn’t be getting ready in this fancy room. There shouldn’t be five hundred strangers in that ballroom waiting to watch her get married. And her best friend in the whole world should be standing up at the altar with her, not some random coworker Claire had been forced to ask because her groom refused to accommodate Natasha’s schedule. Since Nat went overseas for three months out of every year as part of a foreign-aid program run by the hospital where she worked as an ER resident, there had been no way for her to fly back to San Francisco for the wedding, which meant that Claire’s best friend of twenty-three years—hell, her
only
friend—couldn’t be her maid of honor.

Claire had been more than willing to push the date to the spring if it meant having Nat by her side, but Chris’s boss had sprung the Lavender Ballroom gift on them out of nowhere and Chris had insisted it would be rude to turn him down.