The Unexpected Wedding Guest. Aimee CarsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
The Brookes Foundation’s Home for Battered Women, she and Dylan Brookes had wound up serving on the board together—ironically, the very man her parents had slated for marriage to their only daughter. Dedicating herself to the cause had saved her sanity, and then Dylan had gently eased his way into her life. First as a friend who made her smile, and eventually as a lover who also made her laugh.
Until the dark days had grown fewer and farther apart.
The originator of those dark days shot her a curious look. “I thought it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress,” Mason said.
As always, the man elicited a piercing surge of irritation that was impressive. Because it was his fault that she was standing here in a torrent of tulle netting.
Steam had to be coming from her ears. “But it doesn’t rank anywhere near the catastrophe of an ex-husband showing up just days before the ceremony,” she said.
“The timing is definitely inconvenient,” Dylan said.
At least Mason had the decency to grimace, a rueful look on his face, and Reese shifted uncomfortably. But she refused to apologize or feel guilty.
Because she did not want Mason getting chummy with her fiancé. She did not want Mason hanging around for her dream wedding. She did not want Mason hanging around, period.
She brought her thoughts up short and licked her lower lip. “Dylan, what are you doing?”
Mason looked unconcerned, while Dylan looked down at her as if she was the one who was behaving oddly.
“I’m playing basketball,” he said.
In exasperation, she blew a strand of hair from her eyes. Men. Why did they have to be so literal?
“Yes.” Her lips felt tight. “With my ex-husband.”
Two men studied her for a moment, as if waiting for the punch line. And she had the urge to squirm.
“Did he tell you why he was here?” Dylan asked.
Reese avoided Mason’s gaze. “He said he wants closure.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” Dylan said.
Reasonable?
Wide-eyed with disbelief, she said, “Right now the only kind of closure I want is the kind that comes with a slamming door, preferably with Mason on the other side.”
Mason let out a chuckle, and she cast him her best lethal look, frustrated by the amused tilt to his lips, the basketball parked under his arm as if he was waiting on Dylan to continue the game. And then there were all those muscles on his naked chest....
Reese frowned and slammed the door on the direction of her thoughts, turning her attention back to the man who usually made her happy.
But Dylan was studying her with a guarded expression that left her wary, the lingering moment filled with spring sunshine, a rose-scented breeze and the buzz of a bumblebee in the garden. Despite the idyllic setting, an ominous feeling began to build.
But nothing prepared her for what Dylan said next. “I think he should stick around.”
Even Mason managed to look surprised.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Reese said at the same time Mason said, “Come again?”
“I’m not kidding,” Dylan said, as if the words made total sense. “You need to hear him out.”
She blinked. Hear him out? Maybe she hadn’t heard him right. Maybe the bazillion yards of tulle netting billowing around her legs created some sort of sound buffer. Absorbing the words around her. Distorting them.
“Why on earth would I want to do that?” she said.
“He’s not so bad.”
“Thanks,” Mason said. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
She ignored her ex and addressed her fiancé. “And you’re basing your assessment of the man on a fifteen-minute game of basketball?” Why did the male species feel fit to judge a person simply based on their ability to toss a ball through a hoop? “I was married to the man for a year, Dylan.”
“The man risked his life on a regular basis to help out his fellow Marines,” Dylan said, his voice holding a hint of censure. “He’s a decorated hero, Reese. He deserves to be heard.”
Mason looked away, appearing uncomfortable.
Reese pinched the bridge of her nose and struggled to remain calm. She didn’t care what kind of medals he’d earned. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, rehash the unhappiest days of her life. Especially right before the day that was supposed to be her happiest.
She dropped her hand to her side, feeling defeated. “I don’t have time for this, Dylan.”
Dylan swiped a hand through his black hair, leaving the ends spiked. His eyes held a kind of gut-sinking certainty that made her insides twist. “Why the hurry now? It took you two years to set a date for our wedding.”
Reese sucked in a breath. Was this the reason behind Dylan’s behavior? And how many times did she have to explain? She ignored the curious look in Mason’s eyes.
“I wanted to be sure,” she said, hating how the words sounded like an excuse. “And I didn’t ask Mason to show up—”
Dylan took her elbow and led her into the rose garden.
“It’s not just his arrival, Reese,” Dylan said in a low voice. He came to a stop and released her arm, his gaze flat as he stared off across the rows of rosebushes. “Personally, I think he’s the reason you dragged your feet setting a date.”
The words were too big to digest.
“Of course he is,” she said, trying to remain calm. “Because I didn’t want to screw up again. I wanted everything to be perfect—”
“Exactly,” he said. “You seemed more fixated on getting the wedding just right than on our future together.”
Her mouth fell open, and she tried to formulate a logical response.
“And when you stand up at that altar with me and say I do,” Dylan went on, “I want to know that the only thing on your mind is me.” He returned his gaze to hers. “I want to be certain that you’ve put the past behind you.”
“Dylan, I—”
“You know I care about you.” He stepped closer, taking her hands in his. “That hasn’t changed.”
The ominous feeling grew bigger. She needed Dylan to be understanding. She needed him to support her in this. Because she wasn’t strong enough to fight both men.
“But we have to start our lives with a clean slate,” Dylan went on. “And we can’t do that until you resolve this thing between the two of you.”
“The only thing left between us is hostility.”
“A lot of hostility.” He eyed her with a trace of suspicion. “Too much hostility. Have you ever wondered why?”
“He’s my ex-husband,” she said incredulously. “According to standard social conventions, I’m supposed to hate him.”
“Maybe,” he said, looking unconvinced. “But I don’t want to marry you until I’m sure there isn’t something else going on.”
Panic swelled. “Are you canceling the wedding?”
His gaze was steady, as if the words didn’t light a fuse that exploded in her head. “I’m postponing it.”
She stared at him, her lids stretched so wide she was sure they’d crack. In six days two hundred guests were set to watch her walk down the aisle. Two hundred of their closest friends and family. He just couldn’t back out now, could he?
But when