My Best Friend's Bride (11 page)

Gordon Jamison beamed, his eyes settling on Hunter. “You’ve brought a friend to see me?”
 

“I have!” she proclaimed sweetly. “Shall we take you to visit in the great room, or would you prefer the courtyard?”

“Let’s go outdoors,” the old man said. “I’d like to get some sunshine.”

Jill thanked the nurse who’d been assisting him, then commandeered the wheelchair, steering it back down the hall she and Hunter had just walked through. “This is that fellow, isn’t it?” her grandpa asked in a loud whisper. “The one that you were telling me about?”

Hunter repressed a grin, thinking Mr. Jamison seemed like a little boy, practically bursting from a very big secret. He hoped his and Jill’s news would make Mr. Jamison’s day, as opposed to causing him concern. They were cutting things fairly close. Their ceremony was tomorrow. Hunter held open the door to the patio, letting Jill and the man in the wheelchair pass through before him. He couldn’t help but marvel at the obvious affection between Jill and her grandfather. It made him think more of Jill somehow, like she had to be a pretty fine person to treat a relative so well. Back in high school, Hunter had thought of Jill as stuck up. During lunch at the club and then later over coffee, some of that earlier impression had lingered. But here, with her grandfather, Jill’s character seemed different. She appeared warm and genuine, caring even. This put Jill in such sharp contrast with any of the women Hunter had dated that he didn’t know quite what to make of it.

Jill parked the wheelchair near a fountain and gestured to a semicircular bench for Hunter to take a seat beside her. “Mr. Jamison,” Hunter said, seizing the opportunity. “It’s so great to finally meet you.” He held out his hand and the old man took it. “I’m—”

“I know exactly who you are,” the old man said with a perfunctory grin. His pale blue eyes surveyed Hunter coolly. Hunter shook and released Mr. Jamison’s hand, feeling very much as if he’d just been sized up. “You’re the one who’s planning to marry my granddaughter.”

“Yes, sir. That’s right.” Hunter wasn’t certain what the protocol was here. Surely, he wasn’t expected to get down on one knee? That part was generally reserved for the groom proposing to the bride. Whatever he was supposed to do, he apparently wasn’t doing it well enough. Mr. Jamison’s eyes narrowed, and Hunter could have sworn they glimmered with disapproval. Hunter glanced at Jill, who was biting into her bottom lip, before barreling ahead. “That is, if I can have your permission?”

Mr. Jamison spoke in an icy tone. “I must say this is a pretty big turnaround from last Christmas.”

“Christmas?” Jill asked weakly.

“Yes, sweetheart,” her grandpa answered. “And don’t think I can’t recall what this young man put you through.”

Jill gasped with understanding. “Grandpa, no. This isn’t—”

“I know what you’re thinking.” He studied his granddaughter kindly. “That this isn’t any of my business. But to my mind, anything that concerns you certainly is.” He briefly glanced at Hunter before focusing back on Jill. “I’d like to have a word or two alone with Isaac. Why don’t you go and see if you can rustle us up a few cups of tea?”

Hunter stared at Jill, seeing her eyes had pooled with tears. She was working hard to contain them, pressing her lips firmly together. He couldn’t imagine how hard this must be for her, seeing her grandfather become confused this way. He’d obviously mistaken Hunter for someone else. But who the heck was Isaac? “I think tea sounds very nice.” Hunter cocked his head toward Jill. “If you don’t mind?”

“But…” Her chin trembled slightly, and a painful lump rose unexpectedly in Hunter’s throat. It was as if Hunter could sense Jill’s pain, but that was impossible, wasn’t it? He barely knew her. “I don’t think I should—”

“We’ll be fine,” Hunter said, in the most soothing tone he could offer. “Really.” He met her eyes and she blinked quickly, turning away.

“Bring mine with lemon, please!” her grandpa called as she scurried across the patio. Hunter couldn’t help but notice that as Jill had left she’d drawn a hand up toward her face. Had it been to muffle a sob, or dry a tear? He had an overwhelming urge to go after her and try to find out, and to lend her some comfort. But Hunter understood he had important business here.

“Mr. Jamison,” Hunter began. “I’m sorry to see that you appear disappointed in me.”

“No doubt your parents were heartbroken too.”

“Sir?” This turn in the conversation caught Hunter completely off guard. Jill had warned Hunter that her grandpa’s mind might wander. If it did, she’d suggested the best course of action was to follow along, and let Gordon take the lead. Arguing with him or attempting to correct him only made him agitated and confused.

“Your parents, I said. Although I never met them, I understand they met Jilly. And if they met her, they were bound to have loved her. How could they not have?”

“How could they not have…?” Hunter echoed softly, sensing the veracity of the words.

“How could
you
not have?” Mr. Jamison asked combatively. He angled forward in his chair, and for a moment Hunter feared he might spill out of it. He scooted to the edge of his seat and readied himself to spring forward and catch the older man if necessary.

“I’m not sure what you’re—?”

“I’m talking about that darned dog, Isaac.”

Dog?

“The one with the ridiculous name!”

“Fifi?” Hunter asked huskily.

“That’s the one.” Jamison sat back in his wheelchair. “As if that could make up for what you did to her.”

“For what I did to…Jill?” Hunter queried, putting the pieces together.

“Yes, I’m talking about when you left her, but said she could keep the dog because you’d already bought it for her anyway. And on Christmas Day too. Now tell me,” the old man said with a glare. “Don’t you think that was slightly uncharitable?”

“What a jerk!” Hunter’s mouth hung open, then he closed it. “I mean, what a jerk I was to do such a thing. That was highly unforgivable.”

“And yet, by some miracle of nature, my granddaughter has apparently chosen to forgive you.” Jamison perused him slowly from top to bottom. “You’re getting married, she said.”

Hunter swallowed hard. He’d been prepared to ask for Jill’s hand on behalf of himself. He wasn’t sure if he could do it pretending to be some obvious cad who’d dumped Jill during the holidays. Wow, talk about a very un-merry Christmas. Some people had all the nerve. Others just clearly didn’t think. “Um,” Hunter hedged. “We’ve been talking about it.”

“Oh?” said Jill, returning. “What have we been talking about?” She carried a small cardboard carrying tray that held three paper cups of tea. An assortment of sugars and creamers nestled in the middle of the box. Hunter noticed that her eyes were dry but bloodshot, and her face was pink, as if she’d splashed cool water on it.

“Our…upcoming wedding.” Hunter tried to conceal his perplexed expression by reaching for some tea. He offered a cup to Mr. Jamison, then took one for himself as Jill set down the tray between them on the bench.

“Here, Grandpa,” Jill said reaching for his cup. “Let me fix that up for you.”

“All right,” Jamison said, handing it over.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter said, realizing belatedly Jill meant to add lemon to her grandpa’s tea for him first.

“It’s okay.” She smiled wanly, but her eyes looked sad. “You couldn’t be expected to know how he takes it.”

After the teas were readied and everyone held his or her own cup, they each took a few sips and contemplated one another in silence. Birds chirped in the courtyard and butterflies hovered over stands of flowers. There was even a hummingbird nearby drinking happily from a tall hibiscus plant. Mr. Jamison surveyed his lovely surroundings, then let out a long sigh.

“So then,” he said, turning his attention on Hunter. “When’s the wedding?”

“We…um…” Hunter worried if admitting the ceremony was so soon would be too much. Jill apparently thought otherwise because she quickly said, “Tomorrow.”

Jamison’s eyebrows rose. “What’s the rush?”

“When it’s right, it’s right.” Hunter reached out and took Jill’s hand. She started with surprise, but let him hold it.

“Yes,” Jill added. “We thought it best not to prolong things.”

Mr. Jamison analyzed Hunter for a moment and said, “I only have one question for you.”

Hunter held his breath. “Yes, sir?”

“Do you love Jill?”

Now, that was a loaded question, and one Hunter had better become practiced at answering. Only twenty-four hours from now, he’d be proclaiming his true love for Jill before a judge. Particularly as Cassandra would be attending the ceremony, Hunter understood it would behoove him to sound convincing. He could begin by sharing a bit of that conviction here and now.

“With my whole heart,” Hunter said.

“And he has a
very good heart,
” Jill added sweetly. She batted her eyelashes at Hunter, and for a fraction of a second he wondered if she was flirting with him. Then he realized with a flash of disappointment that she was probably only teasing. But why should Hunter feel disappointed about that? He didn’t actually want Jill flirting with him, did he? Although she just might do so for the benefit of others, from time to time, during the course of their fake marriage. Hunter supposed he’d better resign himself to receiving mixed messages and get used to it. Or maybe that’s how a lot of real marriages were, with the husband never quite understanding where he stood with his wife. Being kept constantly on his toes.

Hunter lightly squeezed Jill’s hand and smiled at Jamison. “So, sir. Do I have your blessing?”

Jamison shrugged and said brusquely, “If Jilly wants you, who am I to stop her? Nobody’s ever been able to stop that child from getting what she wanted since she was two years old.”

Chapter Ten

Jill was pretty quiet during the drive. It reminded Hunter of another time he’d driven her home, but that instance was very different. She’d been in high school and living with her parents. Now, she was an adult woman living on her own.
In a house that I’ve never seen but am moving into on Saturday,
Hunter reminded himself. When they’d set the date for going to Green Meadows, they’d agreed to meet up at the coffee shop near Hunter’s office. Jill had been strategizing with Morgan earlier, discussing book tours and marketing details. Morgan had picked Jill up at her house and they’d gone to lunch. Afterward, Jill had connected with Hunter in town. The plan was for him to meet her grandpa at Green Meadows and then drive Jill back to Sugar Hollow so he could catch a glimpse of where he’d be hanging his hat for the next twelve months. Hunter hoped Jill’s house was passable.

She was staring at her feet, apparently contemplating the bright red polish on her toenails. They were visible in strappy sandals and she wore a pretty sundress splashed with bright yellow sunflowers. Hunter had never known one woman to have so many varied looks. There was the spunky and sporty Jill, like he’d seen at the club. Then, the highly polished and professional Jill who had arrived at the coffee shop to sign their contract. And now, this soft, feminine rendition, a tender-hearted granddaughter with warm, expressive eyes. “I want to thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you for being so kind to my grandfather.”

“I liked your grandfather,” Hunter offered honestly. “I liked him a lot. I enjoy a man who speaks his mind.”

“I know…” Her words trailed off. “It’s just hard to see his mind wander sometimes.”

“That can come with age, Jill.”

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I’m sure that it doesn’t.”

She let that thought linger a moment before asking, “What did he want to talk to you about? I mean, when he thought you were Isaac?”

“Not much really that I recall.”

“You don’t have to hide it from me. I know my grandpa sometimes says things. He doesn’t mean to. I apologize if he was rude to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” Hunter said. “The truth is he was a perfect gentleman.” Hunter was sure Mr. Jamison would have been, if he’d had his wits about him. Besides, Hunter didn’t take it personally that Jill’s granddad was angry with Isaac. Hunter had never even met the guy, and he instantly disliked him. He and Mr. Jamison evidently had that in common: a distaste for anyone who would mistreat Jill. Though Hunter had experienced his ups and downs with women, he’d never hurt any of them intentionally. He’d clearly never done anything as callous as breaking up with someone on a holiday. Come to think of it, he’d never broken up with anyone at all. It was always the other way around. Hunter released a deep breath.

“You all right?” she asked him.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how crazy it is that we’re getting married.”

“It is kind of crazy, isn’t it?” She surprised him by cracking a grin and his heart cartwheeled slightly. Not all the way around. Maybe a seventy-degree turn. Hunter couldn’t believe he was analyzing it.
 

Hunter answered past the lump in his throat. “Yeah.”

“You know what I think?” Her tone was almost playful. “I think it’s good to be crazy once in a while.” She caught his attention before he turned it back on the road. “Don’t you?”

Hunter shook his head, wondering what his teenage self would have said if someone had told him he’d be marrying Jill Jamison someday. Probably that he was nuts, certifiable, dreaming the impossible dream. But here they were in the light of day, about to embark on the adventure of a lifetime: a blessed union that was patently false. “You can’t get any crazier than us, Jill.”

Hunter parked in Jill’s gravel driveway and she climbed from his SUV. “Let me just run in for a minute and shut up the pets.”

Hunter closed his driver’s door behind him and followed Jill up the steps to the front porch of her cozy country cottage. It was pale yellow and its shutters and front door were freshly painted black. With its bucolic setting on five wooded acres, it almost looked like a house out of a child’s fairy tale. Azalea bushes hugged its perimeter, and stands of pansies and daffodils danced in front of them. “If it’s Fifi and Mimi you’re talking about, you might as well let us get acquainted. We’re going to be spending some time together, it seems.”