Blissed (Misfit Brides #1) (31 page)

“Don’t have to decide today. Got a week or so.”

She took a deep breath. “Waiting won’t change who I am or who I’ve been. Pepper’s a great choice for a new owner. She’s smart, she knows the wedding business, and if anyone has the personality and background necessary to work on The Aisle without a husband, it’s her. Not me.” Besides, with all the single sons on The Aisle, Pepper wouldn’t be lacking in the husband department for long.

Dad didn’t say anything.

Natalie huddled closer into herself. “And the truth is, I’d rather be Noah’s mom than have a million boutiques. I can’t ever repay you for all the help you and Mom have given Noah and me, but I can make sure I’m there for him the way you’ve been there for me.”

“Been thinking a lot lately about how your mom and I had each other. How much of a difference that made for you girls.”

Natalie nodded. Her parents had worked hard—the shop wouldn’t be what it was today if they hadn’t—but Dad had always gotten Natalie and Lindsey to dance lessons and softball practices while Mom ran the shop and did other Aisle business. By herself, Natalie couldn’t do the same for Noah.

“If you had the right partner, you could do it too,” Dad said.

Nope. Not all the way numb yet. Because that one hurt.

She blinked her stinging eyes back into submission. “I’m not getting remarried, Dad.”

“Mistakes are only mistakes if you don’t learn from them.”

“It’s not a mistake to not marry a guy who doesn’t love you.”
That
, she’d learned. Much as the thought threatened to turn her stomach inside out, CJ didn’t love her. She didn’t know if she loved him. He made her laugh, he frustrated her, and he twisted her heart so hard it had wrinkles, but that couldn’t be love.

As if it mattered. Because if it was love, she’d killed it efficiently tonight.

CJ was right. Mom was gone. And Natalie had kicked him out so she didn’t put a stain on her mother’s memory.

But who else would care if Marilyn Elias spread those rumors?

Who besides Natalie and Lindsey and Dad? They all knew better.

Natalie wished Marilyn an eternity in boxed-cake-mix and divorce-support-group hell.

Dad heaved a Dad-sigh. “You take another look when Knot Fest is over. This isn’t the time to make big decisions. I’ll tell Pepper we’re not ready.”

“We’re ready.” She couldn’t feel her heart anymore.

Thank God.

“Honey—”

Nat held up a hand. “Dad, I can’t do this another year. Pepper can turn Bliss Bridal back into what it’s supposed to be.
Everything
it’s supposed to be, eventually with the husband and all. I can’t. Even without Knot Fest and all the other stuff, I can’t. You should sell it to her. Mom”—Natalie’s voice cracked, and she dug deep to embrace the numbness again—“Mom would like her. You can’t take the chance that the next person who makes an offer won’t have the experience or the personality to make it work. I’d rather Pepper have it now, before I break it.”

Or before Marilyn broke Dad, and convinced him to let her expand the bakery in the boutique’s space.

“Natalie—”

“We’ve always known, Dad. We’ve always known I couldn’t do it forever. Let me out with dignity. Please.” She wouldn’t cry. If she cried, if she bent the smallest amount, he’d know she didn’t want to sell any more than he did, but the timing didn’t change the facts.

Natalie didn’t belong on the The Aisle. 

She belonged in a dress shop. Her
own
dress shop, where she could dabble with modifying and designing gowns again, where she could hire the best bridal consultants and managers, where she could sign exclusive contracts with highly sought designers and popular wedding planners. But that dress shop couldn’t be in Bliss. Not as long as Marilyn Elias ruled here. Nat had successfully stood up to the wicked old bat a time or two. But what kind of life would she give Noah if she had to fight Marilyn every day?

Dad was studying her again. “If you’re sure you want out.”

“I’m sure.”

He shifted deeper into the couch, then fiddled with the remote. “While we’re talking about difficult topics, I have something else I need to tell you.”

The numbness in her chest plummeted to her stomach.

He was dying. He’d been hiding because he’d been diagnosed with cancer or heart disease or tuberculosis, and he didn’t know how to tell her.

Her throat wouldn’t work. Neither would her tongue. Or her lungs.

But she ordered her body to snap out of it, and she kept her eyes clear and steady when she looked at him. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

He opened his mouth.

Natalie braced herself. She’d get through this. She had to, for Noah’s sake. For Dad’s sake. For Mom’s sake. She owed it to all of them to be strong and hold it together.

He sucked in a breath. “I’ve asked Marilyn to be my partner in the Golden Husband Games.”

Natalie’s spine went so rigid it cracked.

No.

No
.

Dad’s gaze was steady, his hand half out to her, as if it were a peace offering. An apology and a plea all in one.

Her relief that he
wasn’t
dying was swallowed whole by her horror, and she didn’t care.

She’d earned the right to be horrified.

At least if he’d been sick, it wouldn’t have been his fault. “No,” she said.

“Natalie—”

She ignored the warning note in his voice and sprang to her feet. This wasn’t happening. He hadn’t just said that.

“Replacing Mom is bad enough. But with
her
? How could you?
How could you
?”

“She’s not the devil, Natalie.”

“That woman marched in here tonight and threatened to publicly accuse me of fixing the Golden Husband Games.”

Dad’s eyes flared open, then snapped narrow along with his flattening lips.

He didn’t believe her.

This wasn’t happening.

Natalie had to leave. To run. Take Noah and get as far the hell from this demented town as she could. She turned to the door.

“She’s not already buried in the backyard, is she?” Dad deadpanned.

Natalie stopped.

“Sit,” he said.

She shook her head. She pinched her lips tight to keep from howling.

“Nat, hon, that’s what happens to a person when she thinks she’s doing it all by herself for too many years.”

“You’re excusing her. You don’t know—you don’t know how awful she’s been. The things she’s done. And Noah—Noah’s terrified of her.”

Natalie didn’t have to turn around to see him rubbing his temples. She could hear it in his sigh. “People aren’t perfect. Even Queen Generals. I knew she wasn’t happy when I told her about Pepper’s offer, but I didn’t think she’d take it out on you. I’ll talk to her.”

“Talk?” Natalie was screeching. She knew she was screeching, and she couldn’t stop herself. She spun back to face him, barely aware of the ground beneath her feet. All she knew was her own pulsing core of horrified disbelief. “
Talk?
”

“Lot more effective than revenge.” His lips twitched in a half-grin. “But, that cupcake stunt you pulled—that was a good one.”

“I quit the committee because of her. I kicked CJ out of my life—out of Noah’s life—because of her. Mom’s Games could be
ruined
because of her. And you know—you have to know the only reason she’s being nice to you is because she thought she could convince you to give her the shop. She’s brainwashing you. Don’t you care?”

“Natalie…” The warning was back. The tension was back. She’d called him home. She’d asked for his help. And now she was attacking him.

Justifiably, but if he was far enough off his rocker to ask that woman to stand in Mom’s place, he was obviously far enough off his rocker to not realize that this time, he was the one who was wrong.

“Sit,” he said.

She sat.

Not happily, but she sat.

She’d lost enough already. She didn’t want to lose Dad too.

“Do you love her?” Natalie said.

Dad barked out a surprised laugh, but there was no flushing, no hiding, no fidgeting. “No.”

His simple answer was mildly soothing. Like putting a Band-Aid on a twisted, mangled, compound double fracture.

“I love your mother,” he said. “No one will ever be to me what your mother is to me. But I miss having someone to talk to. Marilyn’s been missing having someone to talk to for so long, she doesn’t know she’s missing it. Ah—” He held up a hand at Natalie’s snort. “Think about how hard you’ve been working. About all the difficulties of being a single mother. Not having time to date or have friends or a social life. Then imagine living like that for over twenty-five years.”

She was too irritated to consider the point. “You think your companionship will cure Marilyn of her—” Natalie waved her own hand and let Dad fill in whatever insult he felt appropriate.

“I think some of the best battles are fought when the enemy doesn’t know you’ve snuck behind their lines.”

Natalie couldn’t say much to that.

Because she didn’t know who Dad considered to be the enemy—her, or Marilyn.

She did know, though, that he was her dad. She’d just have to trust him.

Chapter Sixteen

H
AVING ELOPED during Knot Fest, CJ wasn’t prepared for how seriously Bliss took their festival. He should’ve picked up on the clues. Like the obvious one when Natalie kicked him out of her life almost two weeks ago so there would be no hints of anyone marring the sanctity of her precious Games.

He hadn’t been this upset by a woman since Serena shipped out.

Damn good sign of something he didn’t want to think about.

So was the fact that he’d started his own cussing jar. Pissed him off that he owed it more change now. But at least Marilyn had gotten too busy to bother him. No more invitations for dinner or hospitality receptions. Not that he minded. Last time he’d braved the Fortress, as he liked to think of Marilyn’s house at the top of Natalie’s subdivision, she’d come right out and asked him what he was worth financially. Kimmie was nearly as bad in her own way. Since Natalie had handed over all the work she’d been doing on the Golden Husband Games, Marilyn was working triple-time to help Duke and Elsie Sparks keep up, which meant Kimmie was working triple-time covering for her mother at the bakery. Kimmie could barely utter a sentence without a mention of a dream or a fortune cookie lately.

But he’d escaped all of them today and taken an extra day shift at Suckers. Bob’s last treatment was today—great way to spend the Friday before Knot Fest week—and Fiona had forbidden CJ from stopping by.

There was a possibility CJ had been a bear lately.

While he banged around the bar getting set up for what could possibly be the last normal day he’d ever have in Bliss, he told himself the comforting lie that Fiona didn’t want anything to distract Bob from getting his rest before Knot Fest.

Because they were coming to watch him make an ass of himself at the Games next weekend.

The back door banged open, and something that sounded like Huck singing drifted from the kitchen to the bar.

And was that—yep, CJ knew the song. “If You Want To Be Happy.” He’d sung it to every one of his sisters at some point in their lives. He’d always meant it as a compliment, obviously. A wish for them for long-term marital success. Getting to call them ugly in the song was simply a bonus.

Huck skipped out of the kitchen and shimmied his saggy sixty-five-year-old hips all the way to the front door, which he unlocked with a flourish. Braid swinging, an uncharacteristically happy smile splitting his cheeks, he danced back through the tables.

“Get an ugly one for wife number four, Huck?” CJ said. “Careful. She might stick.”

The old guy let out a gleeful laugh. “Hell, no, boy. I’m getting my freedom.”

A quieter presence behind CJ made him look back.

“Who in the hell is that?” Jeremy said with a nod at Huck.

“An anti-zombie in Huck’s body?”

“She’s getting maaaarrrrried,” Huck sang in a tune CJ didn’t recognize. “She’s getting hitched. She’s allllllll hiiiiiisssss!”

“Dude’s lost his last marble.” Jeremy moved to the nearest table and started pulling chairs down for the lunch crowd. CJ hadn’t expected Jeremy here until later, but today apparently wasn’t normal.

“Get a bottle of champagne,” Huck said to CJ. “Gonna have us a celebration.”

The front door opened. CJ’s pathetic little heart sputtered.

First time Lindsey had walked through that door in weeks. And it took everything he had not to strain to see if her sister was behind her. Dressed up like she was—in a power suit that could’ve done battle with some of Marilyn Elias’s getups, and with her hair back in a tight bun—Lindsey obviously wouldn’t have Nat, or Noah, with her, but CJ looked.

He couldn’t help himself.

The disappointment that she was alone twisted the log of a splinter that had taken up residence in his chest about two weeks ago. “I take it he’s not talking about you getting married,” CJ said.

Lindsey snorted delicately. “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

Huck hooted. “Sing it with me.” He puffed his lungs up, but Lindsey leveled a look on him that must’ve been inspired by the power suit.

“I don’t sing,” she said.

“Sad truth, that,” Jeremy said.

Lindsey ignored him and claimed the table he’d just cleared of chairs. She pulled a file out of her messenger back. “What’s the emergency, Huck?”

Huck pointed to the file. “You boys see that? That right there’s my freedom. Number two’s getting hitched to some old geezer with a Swiss bank account and a faulty pacemaker.”

Much more glee, and the guy would need his own pacemaker. His gray braid frizzed with all the excitement.

“So now she has to support you?” CJ said.

“Hell, no. Means I don’t gotta pay her alimony no more.” He poked Lindsey. “Right? That’s what my prenup said, right? Tell me I’m a free man. Go on. Tell me.”

Lindsey’s lips quirked up. “
This
is not an emergency.”

“Best case you’ve had in months, though, ain’t it?” Huck poked her again. “Lot better’n that custody problem you had last month. Go on. You tell me I’m free, I’ll pay you overtime.” He snapped his fingers. “Where’s that champagne?” He scampered back behind the bar.