Mary Had a Little Problem (11 page)

“This isn’t his fault, Anna,” Luke said, brushing his knuckles across Mary’s arm. “He had no idea I was even alive until I had a letter delivered here right before the ceremony.”

“What happened to staying dead?” Brock asked accusingly. “What happened to wanting her happy?”

“Well, your dumb ass kind of changed all that, didn’t it? If you hadn’t decided to be all noble and walk away from the best thing in your life, I would’ve stayed behind the pulpit and let the two of you be pronounced husband and wife.”

“If I’d only known this would happen, maybe I would’ve done just that,” Brock snapped.

This couldn’t be happening. What on earth had Luke been thinking? Why hadn’t Brock told her of some letter delivered before their ceremony? They could’ve talked about it, discussed what they wanted to do. And risked Luke never showing his face again? That’s why Brock had responded to her as he did. He knew Luke would run if they married.

Her heart threatened to skip multiple beats as she thought of Brock’s sacrifice, of what he was willing to forfeit in order to give her what he must’ve believed she wanted most—the dead husband she’d already learned to live without.

“I guess we’ll have to call the rescue squad,” Luke said, mockery in his voice.

Damn him for using what he knew about her to make her come to. Just who did he think he was?

“I’ll make the call,” Anna said, playing right into his hands.

Mary moaned then opened her eyes.

“Hiya beautiful,” Luke said, grinning from ear to ear. “I thought that might get your attention. Whatta you say you sit up here and kiss me, welcome me home?”

Mary was reeling then. With help from her sister and Brock, she sat. Luke winked. “How’s my girl?”

Before she thought, she smacked his face, immediately telling him, “Better now. You?”

Luke narrowed his gaze on her dress, unshaken by the slap she delivered. “You still look as beautiful as I remember.”

“Your timing always sucked,” she said to him, turning to address Brock, too. “And you? You knew he was alive, and your answer to the problem was to walk away from the greatest love you’ve ever known?”

“I’m sorry, Mary,” Brock whispered.

“I don’t want your apologies,” she snapped, looking down at her wrinkled wedding dress. “I need to be alone.”

Luke studied her face. “I thought you might want to consider that wedding. You know, since the family is all here.”

Mary glanced at Anna, and Anna shook her head. As if she needed her sister’s wisdom. She knew better than to pull herself together and go through with this wedding.

“I need to talk to Anna,” she said, immediately deciding a little time alone was better than being on the floor of the chapel where she wouldn’t marry Brock Taylor.

The men helped her to her feet, and Luke touched her cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you, Mary.”

Too angry to cry and unsure of how she felt about either man she’d loved, she turned toward Anna. “Get me out of here,” she whispered.

Anna nodded, took her hand, and they fled the chapel. They never even bothered to return to the bride’s room to collect Mary’s belongings.

* * * *

“You’re one dumb son-of-a-bitch,” Luke said, entering the groom’s dressing room. He approached the wet bar and poured himself a glass of water. “If I’d known you were going to leave her at the altar, I would’ve gone to her myself and let her know I was still alive.”

“And why didn’t you?” Brock said accusingly, glaring at the man he still thought of as his best friend, though he wasn’t sure why.

Luke pursed his lips. “I loved her.”

“You still love her.”

“I ain’t gonna deny that,” Luke said, shaking his head. “She still makes my heart beat a little faster.” A moment later, he said, “I used to get sick to my stomach when I would think about another man touching her.”

Brock frowned. “I imagine you’ve been ill a lot here lately.”

“Should I kill you now or tell you what happened first? You know, so you can go to your grave understanding why I couldn’t get home as quickly as I might have liked?”

Brock sniffed at that, poured himself a glass of water, and said, “I’ve read the files. I know what happened to you and the rest of our men.”

“I appreciate the effort you put forth, by the way,” Luke said, grinning. “A few officers told me you led teams to Afghanistan several times. Thanks for searching for me. I gotta ask you though, was it for the right reasons? Were you there to save an old friend, or to be sure that good pal never resurfaced and messed up the storybook life you’ve started building with my wife?”

“I haven’t been able to get the pages turning yet, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ve been overseas looking for your ass!”

Luke shrugged. “I was trying to keep you busy. Figured if you weren’t looking for me, you’d be in bed with her.”

“That’s probably about right,” Brock said, studying him. Luke was still full of life. He looked about the same, maybe twenty or thirty pounds thinner, which was surprising considering how long he’d been missing in action, presumed dead. He was tan, and his forehead was wrinkled by sun and stress, something Brock understood well.

“Wanna hear my story?”

“Maybe some other time,” Brock grumbled, checking his cell phone.

“Have any idea where they went?”

Brock shook his head. “I wish I did.”

“How come you couldn’t have married her sister?” Luke asked. “Tom Tolsen said you and Anna were pretty tight.”

“When did you talk to Tom?” he asked, realizing it must’ve been recent since Luke made it to Gatlinburg in time to stop their wedding.

“I returned to the States last week,” Luke replied. “Took me a few days of debriefings before I returned to Beaufort. I saw Mary, watched over her for you while you were out looking for me.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I could’ve died out there searching for your sorry ass?”

“No,” Luke replied. “That thought never crossed my mind. Would you like to know why?”

Brock knew the answer, but he played Luke’s game. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

“You love Mary like I love her. She was the only thing that kept me alive, and truth told, if you’d found yourself in a similar situation, her love for you would’ve kept you going, too.”

“She does love me, Luke,” Brock said, never doubting it for a minute.

“I know she does. And she should. Tom says she was a mess until you came into her life. I want to thank you for that.”

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

Luke clucked. “Actually, I wouldn’t have since I already had a wife after you and I met. But I would’ve been there for her, yeah.”

“You changed your mind about letting us go on with our lives, didn’t you?” Brock asked.

Luke took a deep breath. “That’s hard to say. I heard those vows the two of you exchanged. Beautiful words, by the way, but I gotta admit, I’ll have a hard time standing by and letting you bed my wife.”

“Bed your wife?”

“Yeah,” Luke said, a funny little grin claiming his lips. “It’s one thing to know your best buddy plans on marrying the woman you love, and quite another to know they’ve consummated the love they share.”

Brock shook his head. “You’re full of denial, aren’t ’cha?”

Luke winked. “Let’s keep it that way for now. Okay?”

Brock chuckled. Luke always made him laugh. There was a child living in that man’s body, a little boy that would forever emerge whenever there was a situation to lighten or a sour mood to brighten.

“I love her.”

“You said that, and it’s obvious. Although, I’m not sure she’ll forgive either one of us now. You left her at the altar, and I died on her. Mary always had a great fear of being left behind. You and I gave leaving a new meaning. We did it in the worst ways imaginable.”

“I wouldn’t have left her if you hadn’t decided to show your sorry face today. You know that.” A beat later, Brock added, “You knew it when you had that damn letter delivered.”

“Actually, Brock, whether you believe it or not, I wanted you to decide how to handle this delicate situation. You have a way with Mary, and her vows said it best. Your love completes her. She relies upon you.”

“And you think she’ll walk away from that so she can reunite with you?”

“No,” Luke replied. “I think she’s gonna walk away from both of us now. Mark my word, unless we come up with a way to stop her, this time
Mary
will leave
us
behind.”

Chapter Twelve

“Don’t you dare tell either one of them where I am,” Mary fumed, tossing the satin bridal purse on the table.

“Don’t worry,” Anna grumbled. “I’m not overly anxious to spend time with either of them. I loved my brother-in-law, and I’m happy he’s alive, but what he’s done to you today is inexcusable.”

Mary sniffed. “He’s alive.”

“Yes, honey,” Anna said. “He’s definitely among the living and still using the same childish tactics he used on you before he died, I might add.”

“And he seemed okay, right?” Mary asked, thinking Luke looked just as handsome as she remembered. He had big dimples, blond hair highlighted by the sun, and bow-shaped lips she still recalled kissing. “Oh God, Anna, what am I supposed to do now?”

Anna shook her head and motioned for a bartender. “You can get drunk and worry about it tomorrow. What bride doesn’t get a little tipsy after leaving the chapel without her new husband? Who could blame either of us if we sat here all night running up a tab I plan to have your husband pick up.”

“Which one?” Mary asked, immediately sobbing. “Oh God, Anna. In my heart, I’m already married to Brock, but the law would probably say I’m married to Luke!”

“Oh, honey,” Anna said softly, reaching for her hand. “This too shall pass.”

Mary glared at Anna through tear-filled eyes. “When? When does it pass? It goes from bad to worse!” She blew her nose on a bar napkin. “Brock knew he was alive and didn’t tell me!”

“Honey, no. Didn’t you hear them? Brock only discovered Luke was alive right before you did. He sent him a letter.”

Swiping away the fallen tears, Mary said, “Wouldn’t you like to read that letter?”

“Not really,” Anna said. “What I want to do is strangle both of them.”

The waiter approached. He studied Mary from behind, and pity washed over his face as if he easily translated why a bride in her wedding gown was seated at his table. “What can I get for you two pretty ladies?”

“Whiskey,” Mary replied immediately. “Straight up.” A nose blow later, she quickly added, “And keep them coming.”

* * * *

Brock stared at his cell phone again several hours later. He paced the length of the cabin he’d meant to share with Mary. Luke looked around the room once more, imagining the acts that might have been unfolding there, if only he’d stayed dead.

Brock ran his hand through his hair. “I guess we could start walking. We might find them downtown.”

“If I had to guess, they’re in a hotel bar somewhere.”

“Or maybe a hotel room,” Brock suggested. “Anna might have known better than to take a runaway bride to a public place. Mary hasn’t been much for drinking in public places since you passed away.”

Luke felt that sudden chill up and down his spine. It was so odd to think of himself as dead, difficult to hear other people talk about “when he died” or how “Mary grieved him”, but worse than anything was the tombstone he’d seen in the cemetery while he was in Beaufort. It was peculiar indeed to walk over the marked place of where one supposedly rested in peace, especially if the one resting was supposed to be one’s self.

He then wondered aloud, “She never had a body to bury. If I’d been in her shoes, I wouldn’t have stopped looking. I never would’ve quit searching for her.”

Brock rubbed his chin. “Maybe if I’d left her alone, she would’ve tried harder. The fact is the military closed your file. She had no one to rely upon, and after I started seeing Mary, Tom became as tight-lipped with me as he was with her. Fact is, Luke, no one knew what happened to you.”

“Wanna know?”

“If you want to talk about it.”

Luke took a deep breath and finally said, “Not really. All I want to tell you is this. When you’re a SEAL or special ops of any sort with any branch of the military, your life isn’t your own. Your demise can be at any point, and you can be written off easier than someone can sign your walking papers.”

“You think officers made the call to leave you behind?”

“Think nothin’. I know.” He frowned. “I watched the choppers land and ran toward them waving my arms. Unfortunately, the officer responsible for taking us out of there had better motives for leaving us.”

“What motives could an officer possibly have for leaving a team of SEALS behind?”

“Actually, you can probably relate. He was banging Gibson’s wife, the guy who was the first SEAL home.”