The Goodbye Bride (22 page)

It seems Lucy Lovett, look-alike great-niece of sixties icon Audrey Lovett, has plenty of company since she ditched her fiancé and allegedly acquired amnesia four weeks ago. It has since come to light that she has not only one, but two former fiancés, both of whom she jilted at the altar.

Since her jaunt to Summer Harbor, Maine, she's been keeping company with her most recently jilted fiancé, Brad

Martin, while shacking up with her formerly jilted fiancé, Zac Callahan. And if that's not enough action for Lovett, she's also dating handsome local physician Nick Donahue.

It seems amnesia may be the least of Miss Lovett's problems—if she even has amnesia at all.

A quiet squeak exited Lucy's throat. They'd not only dragged her name through the mud, they'd made Zac and Nick look like her playthings. Heat climbed her cheeks, making her glad she was facing the corner and not the diner full of customers, all of whom had no doubt
read this humiliating article
!

Eden scrolled down to the pictures that accompanied the article. One of Zac walking her into the Roadhouse, hand on the small of her back. One of her and Brad in the Roadhouse parking lot, his hands on her shoulders. Somehow the photo looked like a tender moment instead of the altercation it actually was. And one of Nick as she'd hugged him goodbye Saturday night.

Those vermin were stalking her! And everyone in Summer Harbor must think so badly of her now. She grabbed the menu and fanned her face.

Eden set her hand on Lucy's clenched fist. “Nobody believes these stupid tabloids anyway. At least Charlotte bought up all the copies . . .”

“She can't buy up all the copies in the whole country. And it's online for anyone to see.” She gave Eden a pained look. “They made me out to be some kind of—”

“Don't say it.”

Lucy dropped her menu, pinching her lip. “But everything they said was true. They just spun it all to make it sound bad, and they suggested I don't even have amnesia! Do they think this is some kind of game? Why would I do that?”

Eden rubbed her hand. “They're just trying to sell their sick magazine, honey, that's all.”

“Why didn't I just give them a stupid statement?”

“That only would've given them more things to twist around. Nobody's going to believe you're the girl they made you out to be. Not anybody around here.” Eden's eyes squeezed in a wince. “At least everyone's being nicer to you . . . They're sympathetic. This is a good town. Good people. They'll stand behind you. You'll see.”

Lucy had to pull herself together. There was nothing she could do about the article except hold her head high the way Mama had taught her.

When the owner returned with their meals, Lucy pinned a smile to her face. “Charlotte, thank you ever so much for confiscating the magazines. I so appreciate your kindness.”

“Why, of course, honey. You enjoy your food now.”

Her appetite was gone, but she forced herself to eat. Eden tried to distract her with wedding talk, but Lucy had a hard time focusing. When they were almost finished eating, the bell above the diner tinkled.

“Oh no,” Eden said, looking over Lucy's shoulder.

Lucy turned around. Two of the reporters had just entered.

Wonderful. A public showdown. Just what she needed—more publicity and gossip. Lucy shrank in her seat.

“I don't think they know you're here. They're probably just here for breakfast.”

Maybe she could leave without drawing their attention.

Who was she kidding? It was a one-room diner with fifteen booths, and the cap she wore wasn't magic.

“I'm afraid we're all full up.” Charlotte's raised voice carried across the diner. “You'll have to eat elsewhere.”

“There's two open booths right there,” one of the men said.

“Those are reserved,” Charlotte said without looking. “You'd best get on out of here.”

“Now, listen—”

“No, you listen. You and your kind aren't welcome here. Not for breakfast, lunch, supper, or so much as a slice of pie. If I see you in here again, I'll take my broom to you. Now scram!”

Lucy peeked over her shoulder. Charlotte held up her broom, a stormy look on her face.

The men glowered at her as they left, but the patrons gave Charlotte Dupree a quiet round of applause. A pleasant feeling swelled inside Lucy's stomach.

Eden put a hand over hers. “What'd I tell you? Keep your chin up, Lucy Lovett. You've got a whole town standing behind you.”

Chapter 26

A
t the tap on the door Zac looked up from the employee schedule he was working on.

“Come in.”

Megan entered. At least he thought it was Megan from what he could see behind the gigantic wildflower arrangement she carried. “Delivery for Lucy. Where you want me to put it?”

Zac's lips pressed together. So Nick was giving it the old full-court press. Unfortunately for Nick, Lucy was allergic to daisies.

“Put them right here. I'll give them to her when she gets home.”

Did you really just say “home”?

He scratched behind his ear. He loved having her here. He hated having her here. He didn't know how both could be true, but they were.

After Megan left, he returned to the work schedule, juggling the staff around, cognizant of child-care schedules, night classes, and second jobs. The sweet, cloying scent of flowers was a constant distraction.

Reaching out, he turned the vase until he found the envelope. It only had her name. He wondered what Nick had written, then
he scolded himself. It didn't matter. She needed to move on. They both did.

She'd handled the gossip-rag ordeal with her shoulders back. The events of the past month would've knocked a lesser woman to her knees, but Lucy was strong. He was proud of her. She had a job and was getting her new apartment tomorrow. He still thought she should stay, given the circumstances, but that was her decision. She was a grown woman.

And not his.

His eyes drifted to the flowers, narrowing as they focused on the envelope. He was tempted to throw the whole thing in the trash. She wouldn't be able to keep them in her room anyway.

Not cool, Callahan.

Rising from his seat, he moved the flowers to the floor in front of his desk where he wouldn't have to look at them. He worked through the rest of the afternoon, catching up on paperwork, filling out a workers' comp form, and running out to the front to put out fires. Not literal ones, thank God.

Later a tap on his door made him check the time. He'd had his head down for two hours straight. He rubbed his neck as he called, “Come in.”

Lucy peeked through the open door, looking prettier than any woman had a right to, with her wide blue eyes and flawless skin.

“Hey.” Her sweet Southern drawl made two syllables of the word. “Megan said there was a delivery for me today.” Even as she said the words, her eyes fell to the flower arrangement on the floor. “Oh!” Her dimples appeared as she entered the room, bringing her appley scent with her.

He tried not to let her hopeful smile get to him. “Don't get too close. Unless you're looking to have a sneezefest.”

“Well, I have to read the card, now, don't I?”

Of course she did. He watched as she slid the card from the envelope, bracing himself against the little secret smile that would curl her lips. But as her eyes scanned the card, her lips fell. Some emotion tightened the corners of her eyes.

She stuffed the card into the envelope, struggling to get it back in. Her hands were trembling, making her efforts difficult. Her motions became more frantic.

“Hey.” He propelled himself to his feet, rounding the desk. “What's wrong?”

She gave up on the card, clenching it in her hand. “Nothing.”

“Is it from Nick?”

“No.”

He frowned, a new thought occurring, one he liked even less.
Brad.
“Let me see.”

He reached for it but she hung on tight. “Come on, Lucy.” He snatched it from her grip and pulled at the cockeyed card. His eyes scanned the words.

Can't wait to see you again. All my love, Brad

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her chin up in that familiar display of bravery. Even if he hadn't noticed the glimmer of distress in her glassy blue eyes, he would've seen right through it.

“I don't understand,” he said. “Why are you upset? Because he says he's coming back?”

“I'm not upset.” She tilted her lips in a smile, but she couldn't erase the troubled look from her eyes.

“Your hands are shaking, and you're sucking all the oxygen out of the room. Talk to me, Lucy.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, then she slowly crumbled.
Her shoulders fell and her lips quivered. She rubbed her nose. “I don't know. I don't know why I'm upset.”

He waved the card. “There's nothing ominous here. Did something happen today? Did you remember something?”

“
No
. And I'm getting mighty tired of being asked that question.”

“Then why did you react like—?”

“I don't know! I just read the words and a shiver went up my spine. I had a bit of a scare. It doesn't make any sense. I'm just being plain silly.”

He studied her. Lucy was a lot of things, but she wasn't silly or irrational. “No, you're not. Maybe you don't remember, but some part of you remembers something. You gotta trust your gut.”

She palmed the side of her throat, threading her fingers up into her hair. “I don't want to see him anymore.”

“You have to tell him that.”

“I did!” She rubbed her nose.

Zac frowned. A niggle of worry squirmed in his belly. Maybe she hadn't been firm enough. Maybe she'd tried to spare his feelings with her Southern diplomacy.

Lucy reared back
.
“
A-choo! A-choo!
”

Zac sighed. He grabbed the arrangement and took it out of the office. He threw open the metal back door and took great satisfaction in heaving the flowers into the alley Dumpster, vase and all.

When he returned, Lucy was in the hall, blotting her eyes with a tissue. “
A-choo!
” She sniffled. “You could've given them to someone else.”

Her eyes were getting bloodshot, the tip of her nose turning a delicate pink. And still she was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.

There was a man harassing her and a group of reporters
stalking her. He envisioned her alone at the Misty Mountain apartment complex, set back off the road in the middle of nowhere. No security, no friends nearby. What would stop a man who wanted her badly enough? Did Brad really only want to win her back? Zac had a hard time believing that.

Lucy dabbed the corners of her itchy eyes. She couldn't even describe the feeling that had come over her when she'd read the card. It made no sense, but she couldn't deny the shiver of fear and the heavy feeling that had closed in around her.

“Lucy,” Zac said. “I think you need to reconsider that apartment.”

A different kind of feeling settled in her stomach. A different kind of fear. The kind that involved her heart. The kind that made the walls of her chest close in.

Did it mean anything that Zac was fretting over her? Or was it just his kind heart at work?

And why on earth does the distinction even matter, Lucy Lovett?

“We've been through this,” she said.

“I know it's not ideal. But just until things settle down. Until Brad goes away and stays away. Until the reporters crawl back into whatever hole they came out of.”

“Some of them went home already.”

“But some of them are still here, and they're still stalking you. And who's to say Brad isn't doing the same thing?”

The thought sent a shiver up her spine. She rubbed her palm over the tight muscles of her chest.

“I'm not trying to scare you, but I don't trust him. There's something about him, and you obviously feel it too.”

He was right, she knew that. Logic said it was safer to stay here. But her heart begged her to leave, even while she fell headlong into those smoky-gray eyes.

She shook her head.

“Then what about leasing something else? Something in town where it's not so—”

“I can't afford that.”

“Well, you can't afford to take risks either. We don't know this Brad or what he's capable of. Just for a few weeks, Lucy. You know I'm right.”

He was making sense. It was the reasonable thing to do. It wasn't like she was sharing an apartment with him. They were on separate floors, for heaven's sake. She could stay in her room when she was home.

Home. First off, Lucy Lovett, you have to stop thinking like that.

“You know it's the smart thing to do. I'll keep to my own space, and you can keep to yours. We're both adults. We can handle it. Shoot, haven't we handled it for a month already?”