Forever His Bride (5 page)

“I have bad judgment,” he shared. And the fear that he was about to indulge in it again quickened his pulse.

She withdrew her hand from his arm. “Well, I have to argue with you there. Molly is my friend.”

“She’s my friend, too.” But just a friend. He’d have to tell Molly that—if she came back and expected him to go through with the wedding. Even though he hated to break his promise and risk hurting her, he couldn’t marry her. “And she’s great. Hell, so was Amy. She was just too young. So Nick’s only half-right. But it’s not the women. It’s
my
judgment. It’s
me
—I’m the problem.”

“I find that hard to believe—unless you have a whole other side of your personality, and I doubt that,” she said, narrowing her eyes as if studying him. “So tell me,
are
you Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”

He shook his head. “Nope. What you see is what you get.” He snorted. “Apparently the women I’ve been married to—or engaged to—don’t want what they see.”

“I can’t believe that,” Brenna said, her voice a sexy rasp. Her eyes glinted in the moonlight and she stared up at him as a bride might her groom on their wedding night.

This was supposed to be
his
wedding night. Brenna Kelly was the maid of honor and not his bride. But he’d never been as attracted to
either
of his brides as he was to her.

He reached for her, pulling her into his arms. His fingertips shaking, he skimmed them along her jaw and lifted her face toward his. “Brenna…”

She lifted her hands between them, as if to push against him and free herself. But instead her palms skimmed over his chest, touching skin left bare by his partially unbuttoned shirt, and her breath audibly caught. Her voice tinged with confusion and longing, she murmured, “Josh…”

Her lips parted on his name and he kissed her, his mouth moving hungrily over hers. She tasted of the chocolate cake with butter-cream frosting her parents had baked for his wedding, but she was far sweeter than any bakery confection. Electrified by the touch of her hands moving over his chest, Josh deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips.

But then Brenna shoved him back against the railing and pulled herself out of his arms. She stared up at him, her eyes horrified, before running back into the house.

Alone again on the porch, Josh turned to the railing and wrapped his hands tightly around the wood when he would have rather had them wrapped around her.

“Yup.” He sighed, his breath a ragged noise on the quiet night air. “I should be used to women running out on me.”

A
FLOORBOARD CREAKED
outside Brenna’s door. He’d followed her upstairs? Her heart pounded with fear—not of Josh, but of herself. If he knocked, she’d let him in. She wouldn’t be able to help herself. But the footsteps continued past her room to the one next door. The boys. One of them must have gotten up to use the bathroom.

Her breath shuddered out and she flopped back against her pillows. Not that she’d been sleeping. She’d been upstairs only a few minutes, cursing herself for how she’d betrayed Molly. How could she have kissed her best friend’s fiancé?

Sick with guilt, she stared up at the canopy that was draped over the four posters of her antique bed. From the canopy to the rosebud-patterned chintz on the curved window seat in the turret, the room belonged to a little girl. Even though she’d lost out on the house she’d fallen in love with, she knew she needed to keep looking. She loved her parents, but she couldn’t be their little girl forever. Time to grow up and take the responsibility for her personal life that she’d accepted in her professional life when she’d taken Kelly Confections national.

Time to take responsibility for what she’d done tonight, too. Hand trembling, she fumbled next to the bed for the phone. Unconcerned with the late hour—or early hour—she dialed a number, which went directly to voice mail. “Molly, please call me back. I need to talk to you. I need to know what happened today.” She glanced at the clock, the time illuminated in glowing pink. “What happened yesterday.”

She sighed. “Most of all, I need to know that you’re all right. It’s not like you to do this, to back out when you’ve given your word.”

Brenna had suspected for some time that Molly really didn’t want to be a doctor. For God’s sake, she’d passed out in the delivery room when Abby had given birth to Lara. She’d claimed it was because she hadn’t gotten enough sleep, but Brenna had wondered. Yet Molly had continued with med school, refusing to back out on the promise she’d made her father on his deathbed—that she’d become a doctor to save people just as she’d wished she could have saved him.

“Molly, you can talk to me, you know, about anything. We’ve been friends since preschool. Remember that first day? That bully pulled your pigtail, and I pushed him down and sat on him. When Eric came to Cloverville in second grade you didn’t need me to fight your battles anymore. But I still will. Just give me the word if I need to push someone down and sit on them.” She laughed. “Because I can hurt them a helluva lot more now.”

Her words shuddered out with the hint of a sob. “Most of all, I need to tell you what happened today. I…I…I can’t tell you over the phone. Please, Molly, come home.” She dropped the cordless back onto the charger and flopped against the pillows again. But she wouldn’t sleep. She didn’t want to because she already knew what she’d dream about. Josh’s kiss.

Josh leaned against the doorjamb, every muscle rigid as he fought the desire to turn around and knock on Brenna’s door. It had taken all his willpower to walk past. He shouldn’t have even come up here, but he had to check on his boys. Often when they fell asleep as they had—in the coatroom of the American Legion Hall—they woke in the middle of the night, thirsty or hungry, and wide-eyed and ready to play. He didn’t want them playing in the Kelly museum of antiques without supervision. Hell,
he
shouldn’t have been playing without supervision, either.

He ran his thumb across his lower lip, tasting traces of frosting and Brenna. TJ thrashed about on the full-size bed he shared with Buzz, swinging his arm across his brother’s face. Josh grimaced as bone connected with nose cartilage.

“Hey!” Buzz groaned, kicking at his brother.

TJ jabbed with his fists. Buzz head-butted his twin.

They were awake now.

“Hey, settle down,” Josh whispered, sitting down on the bed next to Buzz. Springs creaked beneath his weight, the brass frame weak with age. That fragility—and the boys’ restlessness—was why he preferred the lumpy foldout bed to sharing this one with his sons. And with him in the parlor, Brenna wasn’t quite so temptingly close.

“You two have to go back to sleep,” he said, and he wedged his body between them, depressing the mattress so that a twin rolled against each of his sides. He wrapped his arms around the boys, holding them close. And his heart expanded, as it always did, barely able to contain his all-encompassing love for his children.

“I’m not tired,” TJ insisted.

“Me, neither,” Buzz agreed, his eyes bleary as he blinked his heavy lids. “I can’t sleep with
him.
He hogs the bed.”

“
You
hog,” TJ argued.

“You can sleep in your old beds tomorrow,” Josh promised, his neck aching as he crooked it away from the headboard.

“You’re gonna unpack ’em here?” TJ asked.

“Yeah,” Buzz said, his bottom lip forming his trademark pout, “’cause you packed up all our stuff.”

“Even most of our toys,” TJ accused with the faint belligerence that usually preceded a temper tantrum.

“We sold our house,” Josh reminded them. Although it hadn’t been much of a house, with its two small bedrooms and postage-stamp-size yard. But that had been all he could afford while he was working off the student loans for tuition not covered by scholarships.

“And we bought a new house,” TJ remembered.

“Shh,” Buzz said. “We can’t tell Uncle Nick.”

“It’s not a secret anymore. He knows.”

“It’s not a secret if you tell it,” TJ reprimanded him.

Would Brenna keep their kiss a secret or would she tell Molly? Molly was her best friend—of course she’d tell her. Not that it would make any difference between him and Molly. He didn’t intend to marry her now. But he didn’t want to cause trouble between Molly and Brenna.

“It’s okay.”

“So are we moving into the new house tomorrow?” Buzz asked, his fuzzy head rubbing against Josh’s shoulder.

“No.” He eased a hand over Buzz’s hair, then TJ’s. “We can’t.” Not for two weeks. But maybe that would change. Maybe he wouldn’t move at all. “We’re going to go stay with Uncle Nick for a couple of weeks. All our stuff is at his house.”

Nick hadn’t even bitched that much about the pyramid of boxes that was piled in the living room of his condo. The boys were supposed to have stayed with him while Josh was on his honeymoon. “And he even set up your beds in his spare room.”

“I don’t wanna stay with Uncle Nick,” TJ whined, his lids beginning to droop like Buzz’s. “I wanna stay here. With Mama and Pop and Brenna.”

“Me, too,” his twin agreed.

Me, too.
“We can’t stay here,” Josh said.

A tear streaked from the corner of Buzz’s eye, soaking Josh’s shirt. “But we like it here.” He sniffed.

“They got a big yard,” TJ pointed out.

“And good food.”

Josh cooked. When he had time. Or he ordered in. The boys actually preferred when he ordered in.

“Don’t make us leave,” Buzz whined.

Guilt tightened the muscles in Josh’s chest. He hadn’t just screwed up his life with another impulsive action. He’d screwed up theirs, too.

Unable to stall any longer, Brenna descended the stairs, drawn toward the racket in the kitchen. Giggling boys, her father’s animated voice, her mother’s softer tones…

Where was Josh? He stood on the bottom step of the elaborate mahogany stairwell, as if he’d been waiting for her so long he’d been about to come up and find her. Today he wore jeans and a knit shirt in a blue nearly as deep as his eyes. The outfit had undoubtedly been packed for his honeymoon—the one that he would now spend with Brenna instead of his bride.

Hands trembling slightly, she smoothed them over the cool cotton of her green sundress. She hadn’t dressed up for him. She most always wore skirts or dresses since they fit better and were easier to deal with than trying to stuff her fanny into a pair of jeans.

Josh’s gaze briefly slid over her before he glanced at his watch and then remarked with a wry grin, “I’m glad you managed to sleep in.”

“Kellys are bakers,” she reminded him. “We don’t ever sleep in.”

“Then the boys must be going to become bakers,” he said as he rubbed a hand over his jaw, the shadow darker than the night before. Perhaps he’d forgotten to pack a razor. “They never sleep past seven.”

And they hadn’t that morning, either, as they’d jumped onto her bed at six-thirty. While her feather mattress didn’t have much bounce, that hadn’t stopped them from leaping up and down on it—and her.

“Course you know that,” he said, “I heard them go into your room.”

“You heard them?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry they bothered you,” he said of his sons.

“They’re no bother,” she assured him.

“No, we’ve already established that
I’m
the bother,” he said. His eyes darkened with regret. “I’m so sorry about last night. I lied to you—I guess I
am
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And Dr. Jekyll needs to apologize for Mr. Hyde. You must think I’m such a creep.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” she interrupted his apology. “You’d had a helluva day. Your ego was bruised, not to mention your heart. You were hurting.”

“That’s no excuse for taking advantage of you,” he said. Obviously he’d been beating himself up over that kiss, and now probably more than his ego was bruised. “You and your parents opened your home to me and my sons. And I repaid your kindness like that?” He shook his head. “Of course we’ll find another place to stay, or we’ll go back to Grand Rapids.”

“That’s not necessary, really,” she heard herself say when she should have just nodded and let him leave. That would have been the smart thing to do. “I’m actually almost never home.”

“Pop mentioned that.”

“Yes, the bakery is only open until noon on Sundays, so I don’t bother going in. That’s why I’m home today. But every other day I leave at daybreak and don’t come home until after dark.” She’d stretched her hours a bit, but she fully intended to hold herself to that schedule while Josh and the boys were staying with them.

He shook his head. “I don’t feel right about this. Things are going to be awkward between us because of what I did.”

“Mr. Hyde,” she reminded him. “Because of what Mr. Hyde did.”

“I wish I could blame someone else.”

Blame me.
She’d wanted him to kiss her. Staring over his head at the paisley-patterned wallpaper of the hall and foyer, she inhaled a deep breath. “We’ll forget last night ever happened.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his gaze intent on her face.

That she could forget their kiss? No. In fact she was pretty damned positive she’d never forget it. Her skin warmed with embarrassment and desire. Why him? Why did she have to be so attracted to him? But that was
her
problem, not his. “I’m sure.”

“I was so worried that I’d betrayed your trust.”

As she had Molly’s?

He continued. “I really want to be your friend.”

“We are friends,” she assured him. Because he, most of all, could
only
be her friend.

Molly would undoubtedly return soon. Especially since, as everyone suspected, she probably hadn’t even left Cloverville. And when Molly was back, how would Brenna explain to her friend that her maid of honor had kissed the groom? She had no excuse for betraying a more than twenty-year-long friendship in that way.

The screen door rattled as someone knocked. Josh peered down the hall toward the foyer and groaned. “Nick.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Now there’s a friend I don’t need to see right now.”

“He’s here?”

“He must have kept the directions I gave him for the rehearsal dinner.”

“But he didn’t show.”

“He was working.” Josh sighed. “But he should have showed up. He didn’t know anyone’s names yesterday. Of course, he’s always been bad with names.” His mouth lifted in a wry grin. “He refers to his patients by their diagnoses and surgical procedures.”

But Josh wouldn’t do that. Even though she had never seen him at work, Brenna instinctively knew that Josh would have a warm, charming bedside manner. Patients were people to him, and not just ailments.

She reached out to pat his arm, but then pulled her hand back before she touched him, remembering what had happened the last time she had.

“Go in the kitchen,” she advised him. Noise drifted from the room in the back of the house, running footsteps, more giggling and then the crash of something breaking.

Josh grimaced. “I’d better, just to relieve your parents. And reimburse them.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved off his concern. Her parents wouldn’t care, no matter what had broken, but she knew that their house, with all its antiques and collectibles, made people nervous. Her friends had usually preferred the sturdier no-frills McClintock house to the Kellys’. “And don’t worry about Nick. I’ll take care of the best man.”

“Thanks,” Josh said. And he touched her then, just skimming his knuckles over her bare shoulder.

But it was enough to have her pulse quickening, her senses humming. She drew in a breath, not exhaling until he left her alone in the hall. She waited another moment before greeting his fair-haired friend at the door. “Good morning, Nick.”

Dr. Jameson had obviously stayed in town, maybe even in his car, judging from how bedraggled he looked in his rumpled dress shirt and trousers. If he’d come over to convince Josh to go back to Grand Rapids, maybe she should let him do it. For Nick’s peace of mind
and
hers.

“Hi…” His green eyes skimmed her face as if he were searching for a name.

“Brenna,” she reminded him. “My name is Brenna.”

“Brenna Kelly. Yeah, I know.”

She arched an eyebrow, skeptical of his claim. But she didn’t care if he remembered her name. She just wanted him to take care of his friend so she wouldn’t try to, as she usually tried to take care of everyone else. Another Kelly habit. One she intended to break now, along with her promise to get rid of Nick, as she offered, “I’ll get Josh for you.”

“No!”

The urgency in Nick Jameson’s voice stopped her, and she turned back.

“I’d like to talk to you.” He swallowed hard. “Brenna.”

She pushed open the screen door by its purple-painted frame and stepped out to join him on the porch. Cold, despite the warm morning air, Brenna crossed her arms over her chest and waited for him to say more. Despite walking down the aisle together yesterday, they’d barely spoken to each other. She didn’t know Nick Jameson at all. She didn’t know why Josh had chosen him as his best man, especially since he hadn’t even wanted to face the man this morning.

His voice gruff with impatience, Nick said, “You need to tell your friend to come home.”

“What?”

“You know where the runaway bride is,” he accused her.

Brenna didn’t know for certain, but if she were a betting woman, she’d bet on Eric South’s cabin. She had no intention of sharing that information with Nick Jameson, however. She’d already betrayed Molly. Brenna reminded him of the note the bride had left. “She asked for some time alone.”

“Don’t you think that’s pretty damned selfish of her?” Nick asked, his eyes ablaze with indignation.

“You obviously don’t know Molly,” she observed. If he were really Josh’s best friend, how could he
not
know Molly? “She is probably the least selfish person I know.”

“I
don’t
know her,” he admitted. “She was supposed to marry my best friend, and I barely know her name.”

“Well, you’re bad with names.”

He laughed. “Josh has been talking to you.”

She nodded.

“That’s good,” he said, exhaling loudly with obvious relief.

She studied him through narrowed eyes. “You’re worried about him.”

“Yes, I am,” he admitted. “He’s determined to talk to her and work things out.”

Her stomach clenched as it had when the boys—jumping on her bed—had inadvertently stepped on it, digging their bare toes into her belly. No, this hurt worse, knowing how Josh felt. She didn’t doubt that Nick knew. Even though she didn’t understand why, the two men were close.

The blond doctor persisted, “So you need to tell your friend to come home.”

“Molly. Her name is Molly.” The woman Josh loved. He hadn’t meant to kiss
her,
and Brenna knew that. He’d been distraught over being jilted.

“I know her name,” Nick insisted. “I wish Josh would forget it. I wish he’d forget all about her.”

Brenna was startled by his declaration. “Then I don’t understand why you want her to come home.”

“He can’t forget her until he talks to her.”

Despite the ache that was still gnawing at her, Brenna smiled. “You really don’t know Molly. Men don’t forget Molly.” Every male from grade school through grad school, had fallen for Molly’s big, dark eyes and gentle spirit. “Seeing her again isn’t going to get him to change his mind about moving here or about opening the office that I know you were against opening here. Bringing Molly back won’t get you what you want.”

Nor Brenna. Because, God help her, she wanted Josh.

“This isn’t about what I want.” Nick pushed his hand through his hair. “No, it is, because I want my friend to be happy. If moving to Cloverville makes him happy, I’ll go along with it. I just want Josh to be
happy.
”

That was all a good friend should want for the people he cared about, their happiness even more than his own. She smiled, genuinely, at him and acknowledged, “Now I understand.”

“What?”

“Why you’re his best friend,” she explained. “Now I understand.”

Nick nodded. His voice deep with pride, he said, “I
am
his best friend.”

Images, some more than twenty years old, flitted through her mind. Of her and Molly, friends since childhood, sharing everything from cupcakes to makeup. Molly standing beside her mom at her father’s funeral, holding her up, holding her family together every bit as much as Clayton had. Molly was the strongest person Brenna knew. Her voice breaking with emotion, she told Nick, “I’m Molly’s best friend, you know.”

She blinked back tears and a surge of guilt over what she’d done. She wouldn’t betray her friend again. Not for
anyone.
“She wants time alone, and she’s getting time alone. I’m not telling you where she is.”

“I understand that you’re protecting your friend,” he said with a respectful bob of his head. “I just want to protect mine.”

“Protect Josh? From what?” Did Nick Jameson realize that Brenna had feelings for his friend that she had no business feeling?

Josh pushed open the screen door and answered her question. “Nick thinks I need protecting from myself.”

Damn.
He should have known better than to leave Nick alone with Brenna. Who knew what Nick had told her? He could only imagine, and regrettably he was good at imagining. He’d spent the entire night envisioning what could have happened between the two of them, if she hadn’t run away from him.

And he’d concluded that Nick was right—he should go back to Grand Rapids. Because he was doing it again, falling too fast, rushing into another relationship. This time even before his last one officially had ended. When was he ever going to learn from his mistakes? No wonder Nick worried about him.

His friend’s eyes narrowed as he intently studied Josh. “You okay?”

Josh nodded, but he doubted Nick would fall for a lie. He wasn’t okay, not with his mind full of thoughts of Brenna—who leaned against the porch railing watching them. The early morning breeze ruffled her waves of red hair. Josh pulled his gaze away from her and focused on his friend. “Fine. I’m fine.”

Nick sniffed the air. “Cinnamon rolls,” he murmured.

“Fresh from the oven,” Pop said as he flung open the screen door. “Get in here before the boys eat ’em all.”

Josh suppressed a groan. He appreciated Mr. Kelly’s generosity, but he knew sugar and his sons was not a good combination.

“You, too,” Pop said, pointing at Nick. “You’re the best man.”

And just because Nick was Josh’s friend, he was welcome? Josh shook his head at this family’s generosity. He didn’t want to take advantage of it, the way he’d nearly taken advantage of Brenna last night.

Nick had no such qualms. “You don’t happen to have an extra room, do you?” he asked. “Since I have the next couple of weeks off, I thought I’d stay in town.”

Because he hadn’t been able to talk Josh into leaving. “There’s no reason for you to stay,” Josh assured his overprotective friend.

“Of course there is,” Nick continued as he followed Brenna and her dad down the hall toward the kitchen. “I can keep an eye on the construction for the office building.”

The construction was nearly done—Nick wouldn’t like that. He hadn’t agreed with Josh about picking Cloverville as the location of the private practice they’d first planned in their teens. He’d wanted to stay closer to the hospital where they’d still have surgical privileges, and where Nick intended to stay on staff. Josh wanted to do more than surgery. He wanted to take care of people—most of all his sons.

They sat on stools at the huge kitchen island, their faces covered in icing and the cinnamon rolls clutched tightly in their hands. As he smiled at them, he caught Nick’s shoulder with his hand and squeezed out a warning. “There’s no room here.” Then he pitched his voice lower, and added, “And no reason for you to stay.”