Hitched (3 page)

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Authors: Erin Nicholas

Tags: #Promise Harbor Wedding#4

BOOK: Hitched
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Then they’d gone away to college and hadn’t seen each other again.

Until that party their senior year of college.

She’d been in love with him since then. She was now twenty-eight. That party had been just before she turned twenty-two.

Pathetic.

She tipped the beer bottle up, but found it was empty. How had that happened?

Suddenly the music died, there were shouts, then she could have sworn she heard, “Move. Police,” followed by a loud crash.

“Oh my god!” Bernie gasped. “Jackson Knight just hit Hayley Stone.”

Oh, that was just perfect. Allie felt her head throb. The best man in her wedding tomorrow had just hit a police officer. That was fantastic.

“What do you mean he
hit
her?” Crystal demanded.

“He was swinging at someone else but she stepped in. And she
cuffed
him,” Bernice said with delight.

Crystal went up on tiptoe, trying to peer over the crowd. “Man, I’d love to have Jackson Knight in handcuffs and at my mercy for an hour.”

“People are gonna be
so pissed
.” Bernie’s eyes were practically sparkling with the juicy news. “Jackson Knight is like a god.”

“But he hit a cop,” Crystal said. “She has to take him in.”

Allie straightened. Hey, wait a minute…

“Take him in where?” she asked.

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Jail. Duh. You can’t hit a cop.”


Jail
?” Allie repeated. “The best man at my wedding tomorrow is going to
jail
?”

Hey. Maybe that
was
fantastic. They couldn’t get married without a best man, could they?

“I’m sure he’ll just have to pay a fine or something,” Crystal reassured her. “It was an accident. And it’s
Jackson Knight
.

Allie sighed. Yeah, yeah, Jackson Knight. The hot hometown hero. She was sure Crystal was right and Jackson would be out in plenty of time for the wedding.

The music came back up and the bridesmaids squealed and started shaking their stuff, the minidrama with Jackson and Hayley forgotten.

And Allie went right back to wishing for more liquor and thinking about Gavin. Not necessarily in that order.

“You know, maybe you should call him or something,” Crystal said over the music.

Allie turned from looking for a waitress to face her friend. “What?”

“Maybe you should call him. Just, you know, check in. Get your mind focused.”

“You think I should call Gavin?” Why did that sound like a great idea?

Crystal frowned. “Of course not. You should call
Josh
.”

“Oh.” She definitely shouldn’t feel disappointed about that idea. Josh was the man she was going to be calling for the rest of her life.

Gavin hadn’t even called her after her mom died.

She should
not
want to talk to him now.

And now that she was getting married? She definitely hadn’t heard from him. Did he know? Did he care? Obviously not. Obviously he’d moved on.

But if
he
were getting married—she felt a sharp stab in her chest at that thought—she’d call him. She had no idea what she’d say, but she would call. Maybe say something like “Congratulations” or “I wish you the best” or “Is she anything like me?” or “Do you ever think of me?” or “Don’t do it!”

Allie covered her face with her hands. She would
not
call and say any of that stuff if he were getting married. If he were getting married, it would mean that he was over her. Obviously.

But…what if it didn’t? Her getting married didn’t mean she was over him. It just meant that a really great guy wanted to make a life with her, a life that would be completely wonderful. She’d be an idiot to say no to Josh.

Josh would help her. Now that her mom was gone—another stabbing pain caught Allie in the chest, and she had to stop and breathe through it for a moment—her dad and brothers needed her more than ever. Almost too much. Someone had to help her with that, and Josh was the perfect one. He knew her family, knew their secrets, knew how to help. And he was
here
.
Gavin sure as hell wasn’t.

Yeah. That’s why Josh was the best.

And
everyone
should know that.

Allie pulled her phone from her pocket and thumbed through her contacts. Gavin was the first G. She pressed his name and
Call
and waited for it to ring. She didn’t even know if this was still his number.

It went to voice mail. But it was definitely his voice mail.

His deep, familiar voice swept over her and she felt like crying.

Then the beep sounded and she got mad again. It was the middle of the night and she was calling him. Shouldn’t he at least be
curious
? If he’d called her she would most definitely be curious. She’d pick up for sure.
If he was screening her calls, she was going to be pissed. Not that she would know. But still…

“Gavin,” she said. “This is Allie. I want you to know that you should be here. That’s what I need. You to be here. And I just thought you should know that. And you should know…all the other stuff too.” She felt like she was trying to see through fog. Nothing was clear. She wanted him to know…something. Something about…someone. Who? Crystal? No, he didn’t know Crystal. Maybe it was about her. Yeah, probably. “I want you to know that…” She frowned, wracking her alcohol-soaked brain. The next song started and Whitney Houston’s voice floated over her. Oh, she loved this song. It was old, but it was a classic love song. She started to sway, the phone still against her ear. She pulled the phone away and stared at it. Gavin. She’d called Gavin.

The man she wished was here, the guy she wanted to be at the end of the aisle tomorrow.

Her eyes welled with tears. He wouldn’t be, and she couldn’t call him again after she married Josh. This was her last chance to tell him what she really felt.

She started to sing along. “And I…will always love you…”

It was amazing how much she sounded like Whitney, Allie marveled. Really amazing.

 

 

Ten minutes into the wedding

Allie blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the minister. She knew she was gripping Josh’s arm too hard, just like she’d gripped her dad’s too hard as they walked down the aisle. But she couldn’t stop or she’d fall over.

It was okay, though. This was Josh. Josh would always be there to hold her up and help her out. She loved him for that. She really, really did.

And had for a long time.

He’d punched Lane Neilson in the nose at recess when Lane had taken her swing in kindergarten. He’d taken her out for a fancy dinner on her seventeenth birthday after Travis Wilson dumped her. He’d driven sixty miles to pick her up when her car stopped running before she could get home from the concert her parents had forbidden her to see. He’d loaned her four hundred dollars in college when she’d fallen in love with a new online shoe company and had exceeded her ability to make the payments on her credit card.

Most of all, he’d been there in the hospital when her mom got sick, getting her water and coffee, talking to the doctors when she couldn’t anymore, handling the never-ending phone calls from well-meaning friends and distant family. He’d also been there, in that very church, holding her hand through her mother’s funeral. And he’d been firmly by her side, holding her up—literally at times—at the graveside.

By her side. Just like he was now. In front of the entire town. At their wedding.

Holy crap, it was hot in here.

She started to giggle—holy crap, in a church, that was funny—but pressed her lips together before the sound escaped.

It was Bernice’s fault that it was hot and funny in here. She’d brought the mimosas and started the toasting.

Sure, Allie had given three of her own toasts, but Bernie had definitely started it.

“You okay?” Josh whispered, pressing her elbow against his side.

She must have swayed.

She nodded quickly. “Sure. Why not?” Ooh, had that been a whisper? She hoped so.

“You look…funny,” Josh whispered again as the pianist continued to play in spite of Allie having reached the end of the aisle.

That made her want to giggle too. Except Josh thought she looked funny.

“I worked for two hours this morning to look like this,” she whispered back.

“Are you
drunk
?” he asked with a frown as her breath wafted to him.

“It’s Bernie’s fault,” Allie was quick to tell him.

Apparently that wasn’t the right answer.

“You’re
drunk?”
he repeated. “Jesus, Allie.”

“You’re not supposed to say ’Jesus’ in church,” she said. But she frowned. That didn’t sound right. “You’re not supposed to say ‘Jesus’ like
that
in church,” she amended.

Josh was clenching his jaw when she looked up at him. At least he still had a hold of her. Her wedding shoes were white with three-inch heels and the biggest damned silk flowers Allie had ever seen on the tops.

They caught on the hem of her dress with every step she took—and she didn’t need anything else making it hard to walk. The liquor still in her system from last night, the too-few hours of sleep between the bar and the hair salon, and the champagne just a little bit ago were more than enough to make it hazardous without over-the-top, gaudy,
green
flowers on her shoes.

Bernice had picked these frickin’ shoes out too.

“Josh?” she asked as the song finally came to an end.

“It’s okay, Allie. Let’s…just do this.”

Let’s just do this
. She stifled another giggle. She felt like they should stack their hands on top of one another and yell
go team
.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…” the minister began.

Allie felt like her brain was suddenly spinning. She had to stay upright. That’s all she had to do. And say I do. Simple. No problem. They’d just get through this and everything would be…

“Oh, hell no.”

She spun around, and immediately wished she hadn’t. Josh no longer had a hold of her, and her shoes were threatening to dump her on her ass.

Still, her eyes found and froze on…a guy who sounded an awful lot like Gavin Montgomery.


Gavin
?”

This guy was the same size, had the build and the same hair color, but, speaking of hair, he had
a lot
of it. He had a full beard and his hair was shaggy and long enough to touch his collar.

Her Gavin—Allie caught herself and corrected the thought to just Gavin—shaved every day and wore his hair cropped short.

This guy looked like a mountain man.

“This is
Gavin
?” Josh asked her.

Josh was enough older than she and Gavin and Devon that he probably wouldn’t have known Gavin. Gav hadn’t been a star student or athlete, so he and Josh hadn’t run in the same circles anyway. Even if he had known Gavin, he would have never recognized him now.
She
barely recognized him. Wow.

She nodded, unable to take her eyes off of the man who now stood only a few feet away, looking like a wild man. His eyes were bloodshot, he wore jeans and a T-shirt under a hooded sweatshirt that had seen better days—a long time ago. He wore lumberjack boots and the look in his eyes was…determined. That was the best word for how he was looking at her.

Allie became aware of the murmurings and rustlings of the crowd in the pews. The crowd of family and friends who had come to see her and Josh married.

Holy crap, indeed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Josh demanded of Gavin.

It felt like the moments were passing in slow motion, like they’d been standing there staring at one another for an hour, but it had only been a few seconds.

“I’m here to talk to Allie.”

Oh, boy. Allie pressed a hand to her stomach. Now would so not be the time to throw up.

Josh moved to stand between Gavin and Allie. “We’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, this can’t wait.” Gavin looked past Josh to her. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

Her heart flipped over in her chest. God, she’d missed him. She wanted to touch him, smell him,
taste
him.

Quite inappropriate considering she was standing next to the man she was in the midst of marrying.

What she really wanted to do was throw herself into Gavin’s arms and ask him to take her away.

No, she didn’t. That was crazy.

God, her head hurt.

He started toward her, and she sucked in a quick breath as Josh moved to block him. “I don’t think so, Gavin.”

Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “Listen. I can do this here in front of the whole town. I don’t mind. I’m leaving here with Allie one way or another. But I think keeping some of this private might be appropriate.” He leaned around Josh to look at Allie. “I have some things I need to say before you say I do to another man, Al.”

Oh, her heart hurt too. This was…a dream. It had to be. That made the most sense. Her brain was floating in champagne and her blood alcohol level had to be…well, really high. Or low. Whatever it was when you were really drunk.

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