Sometimes love doesn’t turn out the way you plan.

Because sometimes the right man isn’t.

Three women meet at their fifteen-year class reunion...and discover that their lives have taken unexpected directions.

Back in their college days, Gretchen Wise had been engaged to a top law student. Carol Furness, head cheerleader, had said yes to the school’s football hero. And Maddie Cobain was the girl who’d fallen for a professor.

Now the three of them gather around a popular fountain on the college grounds. This fountain was where lovers met, where promises were made…and broken. So it’s fitting that Gretchen, Carol and Maddie sit here to share their stories of betrayal and, yes, revenge. Stories of finding new love...

Sometimes the things you don’t plan are the best!

Praise for

“Essentially a trilogy of loosely linked short stories, this work exudes Macomber’s classic warmth and gentle humor. This collection will appeal to Macomber’s many fans and to anyone who has ever endured the emotional rigors (and terrors) of a school reunion.”

—Library Journal on Three Brides, No Groom

“Macomber is skilled at creating characters who work their way into readers’ hearts.”

—RT Book Reviews on Dakota Home

“I’ve never met a Macomber book I didn’t love!”

—Linda Lael Miller,New York Timesbestselling author

“Popular romance writer Macomber has a gift for evoking the emotions that are at the heart of the genre’s popularity.”

—Publishers Weekly

“One of Macomber’s great strengths is her insight into human behavior–both admirable and ignoble. Her ability to make her points about it without preaching is another.…”

—RT Book Reviews on Susannah’s Garden

“Romance readers everywhere cherish the books of Debbie Macomber.”

—Susan Elizabeth Phillips

“When God created Eve, He must have asked Debbie Macomber for advice, because no one does female characters better than this author.”

—Bookbrowser Reviews on 16 Lighthouse Road

“Macomber’s assured storytelling and affirming narrative are as welcoming as your favorite easy chair.”

—Publishers Weekly on Twenty Wishes

“Debbie Macomber writes characters who are as warm and funny as your best friends.”

—New York Times bestselling author Susan Wiggs

July 2012

Dear Friends,

Although it’s been a lot of years now, I clearly remember my (only!) wedding. It was early September and apparently a very popular day. The Catholic church my family attended had weddings scheduled every hour on the hour from ten that morning until well into the afternoon.

Wayne’s and my wedding was set for noon. However, there must have been some kind of glitch, because the 11:00 a.m. wedding went over the allotted time. Wayne walked into the church—he’d been inside once before and that was for the rehearsal—and saw the bride marrying…someone else. For one wild moment he was afraid he was late and my father had found a substitute groom. Thankfully, Wayne’s best man prevented him from rushing forward and stopping the wedding.

At least I can say that my prince showed up for the wedding. The three brides in my story, however, were more or less abandoned at the altar. For each of them did it turn out to be good luck rather than bad? Was it a twist of fate? Does the adage “What goes around comes around” come into play? What about “Don’t get mad, get even”? Well, my friends, you’re about to discover the answers to those questions….

I hope you enjoy Three Brides, No Groom, which I originally wrote in the mid-1990s. I guess you could call it vintage Macomber.

As always, I love getting your comments and letters. You can reach me via my website at DebbieMacomber.com and leaving a message on my guest page, or by writing me directly at P.O. Box 1458, Port Orchard, WA 98366.

Warmest regards,

Debbie Macomber

Three Brides, No Groom

Debbie Macomber

www.mirabooks.co.uk

In memory of my mother, Connie Adler, who gave me life, love and taught me to laugh, and Marie Macomber, who shared her wisdom and her son.

Contents

Prologue

Gretchen’s Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Carol’s Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Maddie’s Story

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Epilogue

Prologue

The fountain located in the center of Queen Anne University in Seattle was thought to be the very heart of the private college. It was here, in the dead of night, where young lovers with pounding eager hearts rendezvoused. It was here that words of love were whispered between urgent kisses, where promises were made and, sadly, promises were broken. Its shadow had entertained laughter and joy, sorrow and tears.

The fountain had borne witness to it all.

It was to this fountain that three women came that summer afternoon, each arriving from a different direction, each burdened with memories from fifteen years past.

The first to arrive was Gretchen Wise. Miss Popularity, the class president, beautiful and smart, too. Unfortunately not smart enough to recognize the kind of man Roger Lockheart was before she accepted his engagement ring.

The second was Carol Furness, the head cheerleader, filled with energy, enthusiasm, joy and purpose. She’d built her future around a football hero, only to learn Eddie Shapiro was anything but.

And lastly Maddie Coolidge, the class “bad girl,” who’d played a tricky game of looking for love and, like so many before her, searched in all the wrong places. Who would have believed that math professor John Theda would steal far more than her heart?

The fountain welcomed them all.

* * *

Gretchen Wise walked slowly toward the old cement fountain and smiled as the memories swirled around her the way water rushed around a rock in a swift stream.

She could almost hear the echo of laughter from those long-ago years. How happy she’d been back then: young, carefree, excited and so very much in love—with the wrong man. Fifteen years earlier she’d barely been able to appreciate her own graduation, not with her head full of wedding plans and Roger.

Roger Lockheart, the love of her life. The man of her dreams.

The rat.

She thought about him now and again, fleetingly and with a twinge of sadness. Sometimes she entertained thoughts of all the might-have-beens. Only natural, she concluded.

How handsome her old college sweetheart had been, how confident, his future on a fast track to success. He’d been scheduled to take his bar exam two weeks before their society wedding, and had been guaranteed a position in his father’s high-powered law firm.

The day Roger had presented her with an engagement ring had been one of the happiest in her young life, the day she’d removed it from her finger one of the saddest.

Many an afternoon had been spent soaking up the sunshine at the beautiful old fountain. Students had cooled off in the cold spray or splashed barefoot in the ankle-deep water. The fountain was as old as the university itself. Every brochure the college had produced in its distinguished one-hundred-year history had pictured students gathered around the fountain socializing and studying.

Sitting on the cold concrete rim now, Gretchen swung her gaze to the nearby law school. The two-story redbrick building with the wide flight of stairs leading up to the double doors remained much the same. The ivy had been clipped back, and the lawn on the side of the building had been replaced with a concrete patio.

She had spent many an idle afternoon sitting in this very spot, anticipating Roger’s arrival, never guessing where he’d actually been.

It had been a warm afternoon like this one when she’d first talked to Josh Morrow. Heedless of rules, Josh had ridden his Harley-Davidson motorcycle down the narrow pathway and attempted to pick her up. The man lacked nothing if not audacity. It was one of the rare times she’d seen him without some blond bimbo sitting behind him, clinging to his waist. More often than not it had been Didi Wilson. When Roger had seen Josh flirting with Gretchen, he’d been livid. As if she’d ever given Roger reason to be jealous! Maybe she should have.

Gretchen nearly laughed out loud at the memory. Josh Morrow had enjoyed life on the edge. He drank, swore and gambled on a conservative college campus that frowned upon all three. He was said to live on beer and cigarettes. He challenged every teacher unfortunate enough to have him in class, fought the establishment and generally raised cain. Josh had grabbed life by the throat and courted danger, and he’d fascinated her.

* * *

Everything was different, and yet nothing had changed. Carol Furness strolled across the lush green grass toward the fountain. Oh, my, had it really been fifteen years? It didn’t seem possible, and in many ways it felt like yesterday.

Carol had been the envy of every girl in class. Shortly after Christmas her senior year, she’d become engaged to Eddie Shapiro. Eddie was now a football legend at Queen Anne. A legend in Carol’s mind, too, but for other reasons. Their romance was a classic: the football hero and the head cheerleader. Fifteen years ago she had been athletic, bright and talented. She liked to believe she still was.

No thanks to Eddie. The worm.

And yet she had much to thank Eddie for. If he hadn’t dumped her, she might never have gotten to know Clark Rusbach. The class brain, a wizard with computers, a genius. Clark was technically too cute to be classified as a geek, although Eddie had often referred to him as one. In retrospect it was easy to recognize that Eddie had been jealous of Clark.

Clark knew a lot about computers, but next to nothing about women. Carol had admired him from afar, had gone out of her way to be friendly in the few classes they’d shared, and tried to tell him, without upsetting Eddie, that she admired him.

The dividends of her kindness had been rich indeed, if only she’d been smart enough to recognize what she’d had.

* * *

Maddie Coolidge wondered if anyone would recognize her as she sauntered across the campus in the direction of the fountain. She’d changed. The outlandish attention-seeking bad girl of her youth was no more. The girl she’d been had died a painful death, the victim of a costly, but worthwhile, lesson.

With the fountain in sight, her steps slowed. It had been at this fountain fifteen years earlier that she’d last seen John Theda.

The cheat.

A number of other choice descriptions filled her mind, but she pushed them aside, refusing to dwell on her former mathematics professor. He’d courted her, wooed her with words and deeds—all on the sly, of course, lest word escape that he’d fallen for a student. John had pledged his love and asked her to be his wife. She had accepted, her joy exploding. What fun it had been to pretend with him, to act as if there was nothing romantic between them.

While she might have fooled everyone else, Brent Holliday had known. Who or what had allowed her secret to escape, Maddie never learned. The preacher’s son seemed to think a few well-chosen words would set her on the straight and narrow path, but he had been wrong. But then, she’d had a few difficult lessons to learn in those days. Lessons that hadn’t come easy.

* * *

“Gretchen?”

At the sound of her name, Gretchen turned and was greeted by a familiar face. Someone from her graduating class. She struggled to dredge up a name to go with the face.

“It’s Carol. Carol Furness.”

“Carol.” Gretchen couldn’t believe she’d stumble on a sorority sister here at the fountain an hour before the formal reunion festivities were scheduled to start. They hugged each other fiercely.

“I wondered if that was you,” Carol said, sitting down next to Gretchen on the edge of the fountain.

“Have I changed so much?” Gretchen asked. “Lie, if you have to.”

Carol responded with a good-natured laugh, her blue eyes twinkling. “Not at all. You look the same as you did the day we graduated. I would have known you anywhere. The years have been good to you.”

“Ditto for you, Carol.” Gretchen smiled. “I couldn’t resist coming down and walking around the campus.”

“Me either,” Carol admitted as she scanned the grounds. “I haven’t been back in all these years.”

“Nor have I.” But Gretchen doubted that the reasons for her absence were the same as her old sorority sister’s.

“Are you attending the dinner and the dance later?”

The day of the reunion was here, and Gretchen had yet to make up her mind. “The dinner definitely, but I don’t know if I can drag my husband to the dance.”

“The same with me,” Carol said. “My husband’s a wonderful dancer, but he refuses to believe it.”

“Gretchen? Carol?” The voice belonged to a tall striking auburn-haired woman approaching from the left.

Gretchen hadn’t a clue who it was, and she looked at Carol for help. Carol just shook her head.

The redhead grinned. “Not more than two minutes ago I wondered if anyone would recognize me. I’ve changed, I know. It’s me, Maddie Coolidge.”

“Maddie?” Gretchen couldn’t believe it. The Maddie Coolidge she remembered was nothing like the well-groomed woman who stood before her now. Maddie had been outlandish in appearance, as well as in word and deed. Stubborn and defiant, a nonconformist. Yet beneath all the bravado Maddie had a heart of gold.

Gretchen recalled that Maddie had struck up a close “friendship” with John Theda, a math professor. It was supposed to have been a secret, but everyone knew the two were secretly engaged. The romance had caused quite a stir about campus, but then “controversy” was Maddie’s middle name.

“You look wonderful,” Carol said, standing up and hugging Maddie. Gretchen did likewise, and then all three sat down, with Gretchen in the middle.

“I’m pleased someone else thought to stop off at the fountain,” Maddie said.

“It brings back memories, doesn’t it?” Carol murmured thoughtfully.

The three were silent for several moments. Caught up in the wonder of years past, Gretchen suspected.

“I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you, Carol,” Maddie said excitedly. “I bet you’ve had a fabulous fifteen years. I don’t pay much attention to professional sports, but whenever I hear anything about football, I keep my ear open for news of Eddie.”

“Eddie Shapiro?” Carol asked on a disdainful note. “The guy’s a worm.”

Maddie looked shocked. “You were engaged to him, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but he dropped me like a hot potato once he was picked up by the pros.” Carol folded her arms and crossed her legs. Her foot swayed so hard she created a draft. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

“Of course,” Maddie said apologetically.

A short awkward silence followed while Gretchen absorbed the information. Like Maddie, she’d assumed Carol and Eddie had married. “What about you, Maddie? Being a professor’s wife certainly appears to agree with you.”

Instant hot color blazed in Maddie’s cheeks, and her eyes snapped with fire. “I never married John Theda. The man’s a cheat.”

“Weren’t you two engaged?”

“Oh, yes, until John got what he wanted, and it’s not what you think. I suspect it was one of the shortest engagements on record.”

“What about you, Gretchen?” Carol asked, quickly changing the subject once again. “How many children do you and Roger have?”

“Roger Lockheart?” Gretchen said. “I haven’t seen that rat in years.”

Gretchen watched as her two college friends exchanged glances. It seemed they were as shocked by her news as she was by theirs.

“Well, it appears we have a lot more to discuss than we realized,” Gretchen said. And to think she’d worried herself sick about this silly reunion. She leaned back on her hands and smiled softly. “If I’m hearing you correctly, you were both engaged and then dumped.”

They nodded.

“Me too,” Gretchen confessed. “So there we were—three brides and no groom. Who would’ve believed it?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t marry Roger,” Maddie whispered, apparently having trouble taking it all in. “He was always so…so perfect.”

“I used to think he was wonderful,” Carol added.

“At one time I thought so, too,” Gretchen admitted.

“What happened?” Carol asked. “From what I remember, you and Roger were less than a month away from your wedding.”

“Yup.”

“If you tell your story, I’ll tell you what happened with John,” Maddie promised. “I’d like you to know.”

Carol grinned. “And I’ll spill my guts about Eddie Shapiro.”

Gretchen laughed. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Carol said.

“I do—” Maddie smoothed her hand down her skirt “—and you’ll get the whole story from me. It’s time someone knew exactly what kind of person John really is.” She glanced at Gretchen. “You go first, then Carol and then me. I can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon.”

Gretchen’s Story

Chapter 1

This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of Gretchen’s life. The day was memorable, all right, but it would be forever marked as a day of pain and betrayal. Emotion clawed at her throat, and she battled tears. She wanted her mother, but her parents had already left the campus. They’d driven up to Seattle from San Francisco to attend her college graduation and were taking a few extra days to visit Victoria, British Columbia, before returning home and making the final arrangements for her wedding to Roger, and she didn’t want to bother them on their brief vacation.

Except Gretchen was beginning to doubt that there would be a wedding.

She stood at the far end of the sweeping veranda of her sorority house, out of view of her friends. Most were excitedly loading up their cars with another year’s accumulation of treasures. She could hear their tearful farewells, their promises to keep in touch.

Promises.

She held her stomach and raised her chin in an effort to forestall the brewing emotion. Her long blond hair cascaded down the middle of her back. Roger loved her hair long, enjoyed playing with it, brushing it, burying his face in it.

“Sweetpea?” The sound of Roger’s contrite voice came from behind her.

She’d always hated his pet name for her, but no amount of protest could persuade him to come up with another.

Standing directly behind her, he cupped her shoulders and nuzzled her neck. “Let’s talk about this, all right?”

“Talk?” Gretchen asked with a short abrupt laugh. As far as she was concerned they had nothing to discuss.

“You’ve got to know Didi doesn’t mean anything to me.” Now his hands were in her hair, lifting the thick tresses to his face. He wove his fingers into it and brushed his lips across her crown.

Gretchen’s eyes slammed shut at the sharp pain.

“It was stupid,” Roger continued. “I want to throw up every time I think about how incredibly stupid I was. My only excuse is that I was drunk.”

“You cheated on me with another woman, and I’m supposed to forget it ever happened because you were drunk?”

His hands returned to her shoulders and squeezed. “Didi’s always had the hots for me. You said so yourself, remember? I…I wasn’t thinking straight. I was with the guys, celebrating, drinking, and the next thing I knew, Didi was coming on to me. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. Ask anyone. She was all over me and…you know how those fraternity parties can get.”

Gretchen’s stomach clenched. “Don’t tell me any more. I don’t want to hear it.”

“But I have to tell you. I need to. This is going to stand between us unless you know it all. You’ve got to believe me, Gretchen, I’m as sick about what happened as you are.”

She said nothing, too numb to argue.

“Didi knows we’re engaged, but that didn’t stop her. I told her again and again that it was you I loved, but she wouldn’t listen. The next thing I knew she’d stuck her hands inside my clothes.”

“In front of everyone?” Gretchen cried in disbelief.

He hesitated, and when he spoke, his voice was barely audible. “We…we were in a closet.”

“A closet?” Gretchen nearly choked on the word.

“She was feeling me up, and, Sweetpea, I’m so very sorry, but I’m only human. I was…excited, and then she had her mouth on me and was saying things like she bet my uptown girl never did anything like this for me and—”

“I don’t want to hear any more,” Gretchen said again, more forcefully this time.

“But it’s true,” Roger whispered. “You insisted on waiting until we were married to make love, and I’ve respected your wishes. But I don’t think you appreciate what sexual frustration can do to a guy.”

“In other words this is all my fault.”

“No, no. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Didi. When I woke up this morning, I was sick to my stomach, knowing what I’d done. I couldn’t be sorrier. Say you’ll forgive me. I’m begging you, Sweetpea. We can’t let someone like Didi come between us. If you do something foolish, you’ll be doing exactly what she wants. The only reason she came on to me was to hurt you.”

“And you let her.”

He paused. “Let’s put this behind us, all right? Mom’s looking forward to you spending the next few days with her. All she can talk about is the wedding plans, and that’s exactly what you need to help take your mind off my unfortunate slip.”

So that was how he thought of infidelity, as an unfortunate slip.

“What do you say, Sweetpea?”

She pressed her fingertips to her temple. “I need time to think.”

“What’s there to think about? I told you everything. This isn’t easy for me, you know. I just bet Didi took delight in letting you know what happened. She’s just being nasty, looking to ruin both our lives. You’re not going to let her, are you?” The soft pleading quality was back, the desperation to make matters right, as if that were possible now.

“What did you expect would happen when you went into a closet with Didi Wilson?” she demanded, whirling to face him.

His bloodshot eyes revealed his shock at being confronted. “I…I was drunk.”

“Not too drunk apparently.” If he expected her to sweep his indiscretion under the proverbial carpet, she couldn’t do it, wouldn’t do it. Not without giving the matter a great deal of thought.

“The wedding’s less than a month away,” he protested.

He didn’t need to tell her the date of her own wedding. “Are you saying it’s too late to change our plans?”

“You wouldn’t! Baby, please, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Like you did?”

He let her words soak in before saying, “Two stupid acts don’t make a right.”

It amazed Gretchen how desperately she wanted to forget what Didi had taken such pleasure in telling her. The other woman’s timing didn’t escape Gretchen’s notice, either. While she’d been escorting her parents around Seattle’s tourist attractions, her fiancé had been doing who knew what with another woman.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Didi had hit her with the ugly details shortly after the graduation ceremony. Instead of getting to enjoy the sense of exhilaration and accomplishment she’d felt on receiving her diploma, Gretchen had seen her world fall apart when Didi cornered her on the front steps of the sorority house shortly after her parents had left for Canada and delivered her news.

“Mom’s waiting,” Roger pressed now, breaking into her thoughts.

“Then she’ll just have to wait. I told you, I need time to sort everything out.” Gretchen knew that his mother was not the patient sort. Stella Lockheart was a forceful woman who generally got what she wanted. Both Roger and his father catered to her wishes rather than risk dealing with one of her explosive outbursts.

Gretchen could tell by the way Roger’s breathing altered that he wasn’t pleased with her decision. He’d been calm and in control, at his persuasive best. Now he was impatient and frustrated. Fine, so be it. She wasn’t going to let him pressure her, nor would she be rushed because he was afraid of a confrontation with his mother. This was her life, and she was determined to take a long hard look before making a decision about the future.

“OK, if that’s what you want,” Roger said shortly. “I’ll tell Mom to go on ahead without you.”

She nodded.

He lingered a moment longer, his gaze boring into hers. “There isn’t any reason to tell Mom about what happened, is there?”

Gretchen almost felt sorry for him. “Why would I want to humiliate myself even further?” she asked.

He was visibly relieved as he turned and hurried toward the parking lot. As Gretchen watched him go, the knot in the pit of her stomach tightened. Needing to do something, anything other than stand there on the veranda, she moved down the steps and began walking. She soon found herself by the fountain, and with a heavy heart, she lowered herself onto the concrete rim. The urge to bury her face in her hands and weep was nearly overwhelming, but she had too much pride to publicly display her pain.

Most of the activity around the school had stopped. Graduation was over, and the majority of students had already left the campus. She was grateful for the quiet, a rarity at the university. She needed to mull over what she’d learned, to assimilate what Didi had told her, followed by Roger’s weak justifications.

Every time she tried to make sense of the cold ugly facts of his infidelity, distance herself from them, she stumbled over the pain.

Again and again, Roger had told her how much he loved her, how she would be the perfect wife for him. His insistence caused her to wonder if he was mouthing his mother’s sentiments, not his own. A man who truly loved her wouldn’t step into a closet with Didi Wilson. But at the same time, Roger was full of regret. Despite her own pain, she could sense his. He was genuinely sorry. She wanted, needed, to believe that.

One thing he’d said rang true. Didi had never made a secret of how attractive she found Roger. Nor had she bothered to disguise her dislike for Gretchen. It was probably that dislike that had prompted Didi to confront her.

Didi’s neck had been covered with hickeys so livid that no amount of makeup could fully hide them. She’d boldly walked up to Gretchen, looked her in the eyes, smiled and then casually asked her if she knew what Roger had been doing the night before. At Gretchen’s stunned silence, Didi had crudely asked Gretchen if she thought she was woman enough to satisfy Roger’s healthy sexual appetite. The question insinuated that she wasn’t and never would be.

The roar of an engine shattered the peace. Gretchen glanced up to see Josh Morrow speed across the campus parking lot on his Harley, a plume of dark exhaust in his wake. He’d been cited by campus security a dozen times, she’d heard, for driving above the speed limit, but it hadn’t fazed him.

Josh was a loner, a known troublemaker, a rebel. She’d spoken to him once months earlier, and Roger had been furious with her. In the weeks since, she’d avoided Josh, but that hadn’t stopped her from noticing him. He stood apart from everyone, watching, studying. The outsider, looking in. He hadn’t sought her out again, and she was grateful. She supposed it was natural to feel a certain attraction toward Josh. She suspected a lot of the women at Queen Anne did. Maybe it was the black leather and the motorcycle, the sense that the love of a good woman would tame him.

Now her gaze must have lingered on him a second longer than was prudent, for he eased his huge bike to a stop, placed his feet on the road to maintain his balance and stared at her. After what seemed an eternity, he revved the engine, then roared over the cement curb and onto the narrow walkway, directly toward her.

Gretchen stood, her heart in her throat. The last thing she wanted was company.

He pulled to a stop right in front of her. Lifting the helmet from his head, he studied her for a moment and then asked with surprising gentleness, “Gretchen, what happened?”

She stiffened, shocked that he had read her so easily. “Nothing.”

His smile was decidedly off center. “You should never lie, not when you do such a poor job of it.”

She lowered her gaze and rubbed her palms together. “It’s something I’d rather not discuss.”

He stepped off the Harley and lowered the kickstand. “Fair enough.”

His size was intimidating. He was at least six-two, maybe even six-three, almost dwarfing her five foot eight. She crossed her arms over her chest, wondering at his intentions. As if he didn’t have a care in the world, he leaned over the fountain, scooped up a handful of water and drenched his face.

He glanced toward her and chuckled, the sound low and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

“I’m not worried,” she lied.

His soft snicker told her she hadn’t convinced him. “I don’t sacrifice virgins, either.”

“I suggest you don’t start now. I’d crawl off the altar.”

He laughed, but this time the sound was rich and deep. Ignoring her, he turned his face toward the sky, and his features glistened as the water dripped from his face. “Where’s lover boy this afternoon?” he asked.

His question caught her off guard. From his tone, it was clear that Josh knew about Roger and Didi. How many others did? Her face filled with a rush of hot embarrassed color.

“Who told you?” she asked, her voice low and trembling despite her effort to remain cool and calm. Between Didi and Roger’s so-called friends, the news must be everywhere by now.

“Is it important?” he asked. His words were soft, quiet, as if he feared saying them would increase her pain.

“No, I guess it isn’t.” Some students thought of Gretchen as privileged. While it was true her family had considerable wealth, when serving as the student-body president she’d crossed swords with any number who willingly tossed her background in her face. Her hard work as a communicator and volunteer, and her fervor for honesty and justice, often won them over. Until recently she preferred to think of her friends as many and her enemies as few. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Josh’s gaze turned narrow and assessing, which increased her embarrassment tenfold. She inhaled a quivering breath.

“Roger’s a first-class fool,” Josh said at last. “He deserves to have his teeth kicked in.”

While in theory she agreed with him—she wanted to see Roger suffer for what he’d done—her sensibilities didn’t lean toward violence. Roger had allowed the blame to ricochet from Didi to Gretchen and then back to Didi. Gretchen wanted to scream and demand that Roger accept responsibility for his own actions. To own up to what he’d done, instead of listing excuses meant to absolve him of any guilt.

“Gretchen!”

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Roger was striding across the lawn toward the fountain. “What the hell are you doing here, Morrow?” he asked, arriving breathless, his chest heaving.

When Josh didn’t immediately answer, Roger faced Gretchen. “Is he pestering you?”

“Of course not,” she replied, angered by both the question and the insinuation.

“I told you to stay away from Gretchen,” Roger snarled at Josh. As though she needed his protection, he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm.

“I suggest you let go of her,” Josh said, his voice deceptively calm.

Roger ignored him. “Come on, Gretchen, let’s get out of here.”

She jerked her arm free of his grasp and met his look squarely. “I haven’t finished thinking about you and me yet.”

Anger flared in Roger’s dark eyes. “What’s Morrow doing here?”

“What do you care?” Josh asked, his words a challenge.

Roger glared at Josh and seemed to be weighing the odds of engaging in a fistfight, then decided against it. Wisely, she thought.

“Gretchen, I think you’d better come with me,” he said, calmer this time.

“I’m not ready to leave yet.” She wasn’t looking to defy Roger, but she needed time to deal with a multitude of pressing questions. Decisions had to be made, the consequences of which she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

Again Roger’s eyes flared with anger.

“You heard the lady,” Josh inserted smoothly, with that cocky grin of his.

Gretchen whirled on him. “I can do my own talking, thank you.”

“Fine.” Josh raised his right hand in a mocking gesture of peace.

Tight-lipped, Roger said, “Either you get out of here, Morrow, or I’m calling security. Your kind isn’t welcome around here. Why don’t you go visit your daddy in prison? Have a good look around, since that’s where you’re headed yourself.”

Josh looked unconcerned, which only served to anger Roger more. But Gretchen noticed the vein in Josh’s temple throb and knew Roger’s words had affected him.

“You should have been expelled long ago,” Roger added, then doubled up his fist and took a wild swing at Josh, who didn’t so much as blink when the punch went wide.

“Maybe Dean Williams is looking for a valid excuse to be rid of me,” Josh suggested casually. “What he really needs is a charge that’ll stick. How about assault?” As he spoke, his fist shot out and exploded against Roger’s nose.

Stunned, Roger stumbled backward. His hand flew to his face, and blood oozed between his fingers. “I’m bleeding!” he cried in horror. “Now you’ve done it, Morrow,” he threatened. “You’re finished at this school. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I can’t tell you how worried I am.” Josh reached for his helmet and climbed aboard his motorcycle. He started the engine and then, as though in afterthought, he turned and looked at Gretchen. His eyes locked with hers as he slowly extended his arm to her.

She hesitated, unsure what to do.

“Go with him and the engagement is off,” Roger threatened.

It was all the incentive she needed. She slipped the diamond ring off her finger and tossed it to Roger, then leaped onto the motorcycle behind Josh.

He revved the engine, spewing exhaust at Roger, then raced off in the direction of the sun.

Chapter 2

Gretchen had never ridden on a motorcycle before. She wrapped her arms tightly around Josh’s waist as they headed down the narrow asphalt pathway. When he changed gears, she could hear Roger shouting curses after them. Closing her eyes, she savored the look of shock and dismay on Roger’s face when she’d returned his ring and leaped onto the back of the Harley with Josh. In retrospect, her actions had been foolhardy, but also purely instinctual. As the wind whipped her hair around her face, she smiled. This one small act of rebellion had cheered her considerably.

They sped across the school parking lot toward the busy four-lane street that bordered the university. Gretchen didn’t have a clue where Josh was taking her, and at the moment she didn’t care. She angled her face into the wind, letting it dry the tears from her cheeks. For the first time since Didi had confronted her, the oppressive tightness surrounding her heart lessened.

Josh eased to a stop in a restaurant parking lot several blocks from the university. He twisted in the seat to look at her, keeping the huge bike balanced between his legs.

“Where do you want me to take you?” he asked.

“Where?” she repeated, not knowing how to answer him. It would have suited her to ride off into the sunset and forget everything. Forget Didi. Forget Roger and the ugly scene by the fountain. Forget that she had less than fifty dollars cash on her and nowhere to go.

“To the airport?” Josh suggested.

“I…Roger’s mother has my ticket. I’d originally planned to spend a week with her putting the finishing touches on our wedding plans.”

Josh glared at her. “You’re not going to ask for that creep’s ring back, are you?”

“No.” And she meant it. Despite all the time and energy—and emotion—that had gone into the wedding plans, she could not accept what he’d done. One part of her had wanted to look past his infidelity and pretend everything would eventually be all right. But the other part knew their relationship would never be the same again. If Roger was unfaithful before they were married, she could never trust him after the wedding. He was nowhere near ready to be a husband.

“Good,” Josh said. “You deserve better.”

“Could you take me to Mary Ann Seawright’s?” she asked. Mary Ann was a friend who lived nearby. Gretchen could stay there until her parents returned from British Columbia. Of course, she could always contact Mrs. Lockheart about her airline ticket, but she preferred not to. She feared Roger’s mother would attempt to change her mind, and Gretchen lacked the emotional energy to lock horns with the woman. If anyone was forced to deal with her, it should be Roger. Gretchen preferred to sever all ties.

“Does Roger know Mary Ann?” Josh asked.

“Yes. She goes out with his friend Bill Beckett. The four of us often double-dated.” Of course, she realized, that meant Roger would soon know exactly where she’d gone.

“Where’s home?” Josh asked next.

She bit her lower lip. Home had never seemed so far away. “San Francisco, but my parents are on vacation. They won’t be back for several days.” Not until then did she realize she had no means of getting home, anyway. Unlike so many other parents, hers had never chosen to give her an all-purpose credit card, and she had run her bank balance down to nearly nothing in preparation for setting up a new joint account with Roger.

That cocky half grin of Josh’s slid into place. “As it happens, I’m headed in that direction. You can ride along with me, if you want. I’ll drop you off in Frisco and continue on my way.” He paused as if to read her reaction to his offer. “Fact is, I’d welcome the company.”

Gretchen wasn’t sure how to answer. While it was true that he was offering her a way out of a tricky situation, she didn’t really know Josh Morrow. His reputation would be enough to turn her mother’s hair prematurely white.

His eyes glinted with challenge, and it seemed he was waiting for her to reject his generosity.

“I appreciate it, but…” She stalled, unsure and a little afraid.

“But?”

“I don’t have much cash with me. Fifty dollars at the most, although I do have a gasoline credit card.”

“Hey, we’re in fat city,” Josh teased. “I’ve only got a little more than a hundred bucks myself.”

She grinned. “OK, I accept.” She’d never done anything more impulsive in her life. She might not know Josh very well, but she trusted him. Of course, she’d also trusted Roger. But she was her own woman, and despite the bad-boy tag Josh wore like a badge of honor, she would rather ride home with him on the back of a Harley than deal with Roger, or his family, ever again.

“I’m sure my father would be more than happy to reimburse you for any expenses,” she said.

“We’ll discuss that later. What will you need to take with you?”

“Not much,” she promised, knowing he wouldn’t have room for more than the essentials.

Once he checked to be sure Roger was nowhere in sight, Josh dropped her off at the sorority house with a promise to return within the hour.

Mrs. Vance, the housemother, regarded her anxiously when Gretchen walked in the front door.

“Thank goodness you’re back,” the middle-aged woman said with a heavy sigh. “Roger Lockheart was here no more than five minutes ago, looking for you. He’s such a nice young man, and he’s worried sick about you taking off with Josh Morrow that way. I never did trust a man on a motorcycle.”

Gretchen bit her tongue to keep from saying that she trusted Josh far more than she did Roger. It wouldn’t do any good to argue, and she didn’t have time to waste.

“Give Roger a call, why don’t you?” Mrs. Vance called as Gretchen raced up the stairs. “I’m sure it’s nothing more than a lovers’ spat.”

Ignoring the suggestion, Gretchen hurried to her room, where her two large suitcases rested undisturbed. She quickly sorted through what she’d packed, scooped up what she truly needed and stuffed it into a small tote bag. Then she sat on the edge of the bed, went through her purse and counted her cash. Fifty-five dollars. Afraid that if she lingered much longer Roger would return, she raced down the stairs, pulling out her cell phone on the way.

Luckily Mary Ann was home. “I need you to do something for me,” Gretchen said without preamble.

Her longtime friend must have heard the urgency in her voice. “Of course. What do you need?”

“I’m leaving my suitcases with Mrs. Vance. Could you come and get them for me?”

“Uh, sure, but why in heaven’s name do you need me to—”

“I don’t have time to explain now,” Gretchen broke in. “I’ve broken my engagement to Roger.”

Mary Ann gasped. “Gretchen, for the love of heaven, what happened?”

“I’ll call and tell you everything once I’m home.”

“Home? But how are you going to get to San Francisco?”

Gretchen heard the unmistakable roar of Josh’s Harley outside. “I can’t tell you now. I’ll phone soon, I promise.”

“But…but…”

Gretchen severed the connection. She reached for her purse and the tote bag, and discovered Mrs. Vance standing in front of the living-room window. The woman was holding the curtain to one side and glaring, her mouth twisted in disapproval.

“I wonder what that Morrow boy is doing here?” she muttered.

“He’s here for me,” Gretchen announced, enjoying the pure shock value of the statement.

The housemother gasped and swiveled to stare at her. “But you—”

Gretchen interrupted her. “I’m going with him.” Until that moment, she hadn’t realized how much she longed for her home and her family. “Goodbye, Mrs. Vance.”

“Gretchen…Gretchen, I must insist—”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” She raced out the front door and bounded down the steps. Josh handed her a second helmet, and while she placed it on her head and fastened the strap, he tucked the tote bag into one of the leather bags draped over the back of the bike. He climbed on, and she positioned herself behind him.

Before they roared away, Gretchen turned back to find Mrs. Vance standing on the porch, her fingertips to her mouth as if she wasn’t sure what she should do.

Gretchen, however, had never been more confident. Only a few hours earlier her heart had been breaking. Now, on the back of Josh Morrow’s Harley, with the wind in her face and her arms securely wrapped around his muscular torso, she was free. Truly free.

Unfortunately, the feeling didn’t last. Before long, questions and doubts were buzzing through her head like mosquitoes over a stagnant pond. The wedding invitations had been engraved, and her wedding dress ordered from an exclusive boutique. Her parents had booked the ballroom of a five-star hotel for the reception. All that money and effort, all the planning and dreaming, had been wasted. Her face burned with humiliation, knowing she was the one who would have to deal with the cancellations. But what was the use in dwelling on the negative? The only important thing was that she couldn’t marry Roger.

After some time on the road, the deafening sound of the Harley vibrating in her ears, she shifted on the seat, both physically and mentally miserable. What had seemed daring and exciting a few hours earlier appeared exceedingly foolish now. Her back ached from holding herself upright and not leaning against Josh. Her legs felt as if they were locked into position, and she was certain her calves would soon cramp up on her. To top everything off, Josh apparently had the bladder of a camel.

When at last he did stop, she was afraid he would need to pry her off the bike with a crowbar. She looked around and realized they were at the ocean. Huge rolling waves crashed against the shore, then lovingly stroked a frothy trail across the sand. Large gray-and-white gulls circled overhead, and the scent of the sea lingered in the moist air. The sun was a brilliant orange disk on the horizon, ready to slip out of sight. Already dusk was settling in.

“Where are we?” she asked, easing first one leg and then the other away from the motorcycle. Josh lent her a hand, which she gratefully accepted.

“Cannon Beach, Oregon,” he replied.

Vaguely she recalled crossing the Columbia River at Astoria. She’d actually kept her eyes closed most of the time, needing to think. At this rate, she should be home within two days, three at the most.

With his hands braced on his hips, Josh surveyed the sky. “I don’t think it’ll rain.” He left her and walked toward the beach. She looked longingly at the public rest room but followed him, wanting to know where he intended to spend the night. It went without saying that they wouldn’t be sharing a room.

Her shoes quickly filled with sand, and she found keeping pace with him difficult.

“We’ll bed down here for the night,” he announced.

“Here?” she asked, looking around. All she saw was barren sand. “The beach?”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

She glanced over her shoulder at the long row of oceanfront hotels.

“For seventy-five bucks you’ll get a room the size of refrigerator,” he said, his gaze trained on the ocean.

She squared her shoulders. “Well, then, the beach it is.”

He grinned as if to say he admired her adventurous spirit. “There’s a shower in the public rest room, if you want to take one.”

Gretchen did. She was afraid to look in a mirror, certain there must be bugs glued to her teeth. Her clothes felt plastered to her body.

She took what she needed from the saddlebag—a towel, washcloth and her cosmetic case—and headed for the rest room. It smelled of urine and ocean, but looked clean enough. The shower stall, minus the curtain, was in one corner. She stripped off her clothes and stood under the spray. Despite the lukewarm temperature, it felt luxurious.

As she turned her face into the water, the ache returned to the pit of her stomach. She leaned against the back of the open stall and cradled her middle. That morning she’d awakened thinking all was right with the world. She had her business degree and within weeks would be wed to Roger. And now, in the space of a few hours, her reality had changed completely.

When the water turned from lukewarm to chilly, she reached for the towel. Once she was dressed, she felt better. It was when she combed out her long blond hair in front of the metal mirror that she made the decision. She stared at her distorted reflection, the comb halfway down the side of her head.

She had only herself to please now, not Roger. Her fingers trembled as she dug through her cosmetic bag until she found a small pair of scissors. Seizing the pale tresses, she snipped at the sides with erratic, disjointed motions. She hacked and cut until the long strands of hair lay at her feet like discarded remnants of spun gold. Despite the distorted reflection, she knew she’d brutalized her once lovely hair. Breathing hard, she waited several minutes before she gathered up the courage to go back outside.

By the time she left the rest room, the sun had completely set. A full moon cast a golden glow across the beach. Josh had spread out a blanket and lit a small driftwood fire, and was now working his pocket knife against a stick, whittling it to a point. He glanced up as she approached. He said nothing about her mutilated hair.

“There’s a grocery store not far from here,” he said. “I got us wieners and buns.”

Gretchen nodded, then self-consciously sat down on the end of a log and started to shake. Exhaling harshly, she raised her fingers to her head to investigate the damage. It wouldn’t have hurt to wait, she realized. In a couple of days she would be home, and a trained professional could have cut it. She could only guess how horrible she looked. Tears stung the back of her eyes.

“Give me the scissors,” Josh said gently.

She still had them clenched in her fist. He took them from her and sighed as he ran his fingers through the uneven tresses, his touch strangely intimate.

She swallowed tightly. “Roger insisted I keep it long,” she whispered. Cutting it had been an act of defiance, a way of casting her former fiancé from her life, but in doing so she’d only hurt herself.

Josh took his time clipping away here and there. At last he stood back to admire his handiwork. “Not bad,” he said with a slow smile. “Even if I do say so myself.”

Gretchen reached for her compact and flipped it open. With the light from the fire and the moon, she could see that his touch had been masterful. She barely recognized herself. She now wore a short pixielike cut that flattered her cheekbones and deep blue eyes.

Her gaze returned to Josh. “You’re a man of many talents. Thank you,” she murmured.

Her words appeared to please him. He reached for his knife and the stick he’d been sharpening earlier. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”

Gretchen couldn’t have eaten if her life depended on it. She sat with her chin resting on her knees and studied the fire. “You go ahead. I’m not hungry.”

They sat side by side, surrounded by the sound of the ocean and the crackle of the fire as he cooked himself a wiener.

“Is it true what Roger said?” she wondered aloud. “About your father being in prison?” She wasn’t sure what had prompted the question. Probably she should never have asked.

Josh stilled. “Yes.” But he didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t question him further. Although he claimed to be hungry, he didn’t eat more than one hot dog. For a long time afterward he sat cross-legged on the blanket he’d brought, staring into the flames as though hypnotized.

“Josh,” she whispered, after the uncomfortable silence grew too long to bear. He didn’t look at her right away. She waited until he grudgingly gave her his attention. “I’m sorry. I had no business asking you about your father.”

Without acknowledging her apology, he rose to his feet and disappeared into the darkness. She watched him go, resisting the urge to go after him and apologize again. Angry with herself, she pressed her forehead against her knees and wondered how she could have been so insensitive to a man who’d been nothing but kind and helpful.

After the tumultuous events of the day, she was convinced she would never be able to sleep. She stretched out on the blanket, covered herself with a thick sweater and tucked her head against her bent arm. She was asleep almost immediately, only to jerk awake a moment later. That happened several more times before the physical demands of her body won out over the emotional trauma of the day.

Gretchen wasn’t sure at what point during the night Josh joined her. Her eyes fluttered open to see that the fire had died down to glimmering coals. She was on her back, and all she could see was the dense spattering of stars above. She rolled her head to one side and found Josh asleep on the other side of the blanket. Relieved that he was back, she rolled onto her side and tucked her sweater more closely about her shoulders.

The next thing she was aware of was the loud discordant cry of a seagull. She opened her eyes to gray light. To her surprise, she felt warm and cozy, although the fire had long since died out. She soon realized the source of her comfort. Josh had placed his leather jacket over her shoulders. He sat nearby, his hair apparently wet from a shower.

“What time is it?” she asked, lazily stretching her arms above her head and yawning.

He grinned. “Morning.”

“That much I guessed.” Raising herself on one elbow, she strained to see her watch.

“About five-thirty or six, I’d guess,” he said, looking toward the water.

She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then realized she was famished. Her stomach growled loudly. “Oh, dear,” she said, and flattened her hand against her abdomen.

“Looks like we’d best scrounge up something to eat,” he said. He stood and extended his hand to her. It took them a while to pack up everything. While he loaded up the Harley, she brushed her teeth in the rest room, put on some lip gloss and combed her hair, amazed again at the transformation the haircut made in her appearance. She doubted that Roger would even recognize her now.

When they rode into town and parked the Harley at a curb, another question came to mind, one she had a feeling Josh could answer. Needing someone to hold on to, she slipped her hand into his.

“How well do you know Didi Wilson?” she asked. She’d often seen Didi with Josh. She knew it was none of her concern. Nevertheless she needed to know.

His gaze narrowed, and his steps slowed. “How much did Didi tell you about her and Roger?”

She frowned, her hand still in his. “Just that…that she was at the fraternity party with him.”

Josh’s fingers tightened around hers.

“I don’t hate Didi,” she said, although it was difficult to regard the other woman with kindness. In many ways Didi had done her a favor, though it was difficult to think of it in those terms at that moment.

Josh heaved a deep sigh, and his hand tightened around hers. “Didi’s pregnant.”

“How can she know so soon?” Gretchen asked indignantly, and then it hit her. Hard. Square between the eyes. Roger hadn’t been with Didi Wilson just that one time but several. She closed her eyes and swayed with both shock and anger.

“How long have they been lovers?” she demanded. When he hesitated, she asked again, steeling herself for the answer. “Tell me, Josh. I have a right to know.”

“Six months, maybe more.”

She grimaced and clenched her free hand into a fist at her side. The entire time she’d been engaged to Roger, he’d been physically involved with Didi. It was enough to make her ill. She recalled all those afternoons he’d been late to meet her. It got to be a big joke between them. All the nights when he’d claimed he was studying. She should have known, should have realized. What about her friends? Her face burned with the realization that others must have known and yet no one had bothered to tell her.

As if reading her thoughts, Josh said, “Roger kept it quiet. I doubt anyone else knew.”

“You did,” she said.

“Didi’s my friend.”

But she noted he didn’t say how good a friend the woman was.

“Does Roger know about the baby?” she asked, once she found her voice.

“No.” Josh shook his head.

“Is Didi going to tell him?”

Again Josh paused. “I don’t know. That decision is hers.”

She studied him, and wondered if he had been Didi’s lover, too. If so, she didn’t want to know about it.

His grip on her hand relaxed. “Come on, you look like you could use a cup of coffee.” He led her to a café on the main street and held the door for her. Although it was still early, the place was busy. With a majority of the tables occupied, Josh opted to sit at the counter. Once they were settled, he handed Gretchen a menu.

The harried waitress cast them an apologetic smile as she raced by, her arms loaded down with plates. “I’ll be with you folks as soon as I can.”

“We’re in no hurry,” Josh assured her.

The woman returned a few minutes later with the coffeepot. “The other waitress called in sick at the last minute, along with the dishwasher. Mighty convenient case of the flu, if you ask me,” she said as she filled their cups.

The cook slapped the bell and set two more plates on the shelf. The waitress glanced over her shoulder and grumbled under her breath. “I’ll be back to take your order in a minute. I don’t want those breakfasts to get cold.”

“No problem,” Gretchen said.

Josh helped himself to a couple of doughnuts from a plate beneath a plastic dome. He handed one to Gretchen.

As the waitress moved past, Josh said to her, “Listen, if you’re shorthanded, I can wash dishes.”

The waitress hesitated.

“All I want in exchange is a decent breakfast for me and my friend.”

“Harry,” the waitress called into the kitchen. “We got ourselves a volunteer. The guy claims he can wash dishes.” She looked at Gretchen. “What about you, honey? Did you ever wait tables?”

Gretchen could see that Josh was about to answer for her. “Sure,” she said quickly, although it was a bald-faced lie. She brushed the doughnut crumbs from her hands and slipped off the stool.

“There’s an apron and an order pad behind the counter.”

“Great,” Gretchen said. She wasn’t at all sure she would be able to pull it off, but she was willing to try. She tossed Josh a saucy grin as she tied the apron around her waist. Then he disappeared into the kitchen.

“If you’d do the coffee refills, I’d appreciate it,” the waitress said, swishing past her. “Those tables need to be cleaned, too.” She pointed at two that had just emptied. “By the way, my name’s Marge.”

“I’m Gretchen.” She reached for the glass coffeepot. It didn’t demand a lot of skill to refill coffee cups around the room. Once she’d finished that, she found a large square tub and hauled it over to the vacated tables, then dumped the dirty dishes inside. After she wiped the surface clean and handed Marge her tip money, she turned to discover the tables had already filled up with new customers.

By the time the breakfast crowd had thinned out, it was midmorning. Gretchen sat down and counted her tips. She had collected close to twenty bucks.

“Sure do appreciate the help,” Marge said, sitting down next to her at the counter.

“Glad I could do it.”

Josh appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel.

“I’m so hungry I could eat a cow,” Gretchen said.

Marge winked at Josh, then looked toward the kitchen. “Harry, cook me up a couple of our best steaks, and don’t be frying up any of those skinny breakfast ones, either. These kids deserve T-bones.”

Chapter 3

Gretchen couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a meal more, although she felt like a fraud accepting it. Her waitressing skills left a lot to be desired, and by the end of three hours her feet hurt, her back ached, and she had a new appreciation of the skills required to wait tables.

It was almost noon by the time they were back on the road. Unlike the previous day, when they’d ridden hour upon hour without a break, Josh stopped every ten or fifteen miles, wherever there was a scenic overlook. Gretchen had traveled down the Oregon coast any number of times and found the scenery breathtaking. But nothing compared to viewing the magnificence on a bright sunny day in June from the back of Josh’s Harley. It went a long way, in fact, to assuaging the ache in her heart.

She didn’t want to think about Roger or the wedding, and yet they filled every corner of her mind. She didn’t mention his name, not once, during any of their stops, but she talked about everything else without pausing for breath. Josh’s patience was nothing short of miraculous. She couldn’t remember ever being so talkative. She told him story upon story of growing up in San Francisco. She endlessly bragged about her older brother, and dragged out four or five pictures of her eighteen-month-old niece.

At each stop Josh would sit on the rock-wall railing with his back to the ocean and listen as if he’d never heard anything more fascinating. Gretchen wished she’d paid more attention in psychology class so she could appreciate what was happening to her. Could analyze it and stop this infernal chattering.

He rarely commented, just sat and listened, nodding and smiling now and again. Their last stop to view the scenery was Rockaway Beach. While standing in the glorious sunshine, looking out over the relentless surf, she started laughing as she told a story about her niece. She’d asked Jazmine to get her a pair of shoes, and the toddler had promptly delivered every pair Gretchen owned.

As she neared the end of the tale, her laughter altered and unexpected tears flooded into her eyes. “I…I don’t know why I’m going on like this,” she said when she found it impossible to hide what was happening.

“I know why.” He stood and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Then, with a tenderness that made her want to weep even more, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right, Gretchen. Go ahead and cry. You’re hurting. The man you loved isn’t the person you thought he was.”

Like water through a burst dam, her sobs broke free. They seemed to surge upward from the deepest part of her, until it wasn’t only her shoulders that shook but her entire body. She tried to break away from Josh, but he wouldn’t allow it. He pressed her closer, murmuring words of comfort all the while.

She clung to him, burying her head against his shoulder, letting him absorb her anger and hurt. The roar of the ocean slamming against the rocks seemed to echo her pain.

Once her energy was spent and her sobs turned to sniffles, she eased away, keeping her head lowered in embarrassment. He would have none of it. He tucked his index finger beneath her chin, raised her head and met her eyes.

“It’s all right,” he said.

A slight smile trembled at the corners of her mouth, and she nodded.

“I give up.” The words were half whisper and half groan. As soon as he said them, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and deep, so deep she felt it all the way to her toes. Intense, yet incredibly tender.

After a moment Josh slid his fingers into her short hair, cupping the sides of her head as he angled his mouth over hers, urging her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. He sighed when, in a daze, she accepted his invitation and opened for him. Shyly her tongue met his, but gradually she gained confidence as the kissing continued. What had begun as a slow easy exercise quickly became demanding and urgent.

She wasn’t sure what would have happened if a car hadn’t pulled off the highway just then. Hearing the sound of wheels grinding against the gravel, Josh broke off contact. He studied her for a moment.

“You OK?” he asked, touching his forehead to hers while holding her face between his hands.

She nodded, not knowing how else to answer him. But she wasn’t OK. She’d been weeping for one man and kissing another. And liking it so much she hadn’t wanted to stop. She glared at the new arrivals, wishing they would leave, then realized how ridiculous she was being.

“We better get back on the road,” Josh said, steering her toward the Harley.

Although she followed him silently, her mind brewed with half-formed questions. First and foremost she wanted to know what had prompted him to kiss her. She didn’t want his pity, but at the same time, she knew she would be a fool to believe any part of that soul-stirring kiss had been because he felt sorry for her.

Once she was safely tucked behind him on the Harley, he started the bike and steered them back onto the road. The wind whipped against her face, and she closed her eyes. Josh was dangerous—that was what she’d always heard. Now she knew why. The danger wasn’t his arrogance, the way he challenged authority or defied danger. It was the effortless way he could make a woman feel desirable.

They didn’t stop again for what seemed like hours. The day before she had held herself away from Josh, her spine rigid, determined to minimize any physical contact. Not so now. Her grip around his waist was tight; she craved the physical reassurance of his solid body.

Josh stopped in Tillamook when they hit a red light. “You hungry?” he asked.

She realized, somewhat to her surprise, that she was. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Then, knowing their finances were limited, she asked, “What can we afford?”

“Cheese.”

“Cheese?” While she knew neither one of them had a lot of cash, she didn’t think they were in dire straits.

“Some of the best in the country. I’ll show you.”

Tillamook was home to a huge dairy-products factory. She smiled and flattened her cheek against his back, grateful to have him for a friend. It felt good and right to be this close to him. Her entire four years of college, she’d barely talked to him. By any reasonable measure they were little more than strangers, yet she felt closer to him after these two days together than she did to some of her sorority sisters with whom she’d lived for years.

Josh turned left at the next light and then pulled into a large bustling parking lot. The building was enormous, complete with gift shop, touring areas, and plenty of free samples of a surprisingly large selection of cheeses and ice cream. He purchased a box of crackers, some cheese and a bottle of red wine.

“For a picnic,” he explained, as they headed back to the bike. He smiled, and it was such a rare thing it caught her unawares.

“You should do that more often,” she said, as she fastened the strap of her helmet. At the question in his eyes, she said, “Smile.”

His response was to frown, drawing his thick eyebrows together and darkening his face. Not for the first time, she was struck by what an attractive man he was. She wasn’t alone, either. In the cheese factory, she had noticed a number of women openly assessing him. Apparently they liked what they saw. For his part, he appeared oblivious to the attention his looks generated.

Seeing him now, wearing that well-practiced scowl, she couldn’t help it, she laughed outright. It was all for show. Beneath that dark brooding exterior lay a man with a kind and generous heart. A man she was only beginning to know, yet already liked immensely.

“What?” he demanded.

“You. Let’s get moving, pal. I’m hungry.”

He grumbled something she couldn’t hear under his breath and climbed on the Harley. Without hesitation, she positioned herself behind him and automatically locked her arms around his middle. It felt so right and natural to be close to him. Less than twenty-four hours earlier she’d made the most daring move of her life by trusting him to deliver her home safely. And trust him she did, more with each passing hour.

Josh found them a quiet corner on a secluded section of beach. The afternoon was glorious. The ocean breeze was blessedly cool, and a thicket of tall grass rustled softly behind them.

They sat on the blanket, nibbling the cheese and crackers, and sipping the wine from plastic glasses. After a while, replete, Gretchen lay on her back and gazed at the sky. She was amazed by how tranquil, how at peace, she felt. Stretching her arms above her, she smiled lazily. All she could hear were the waves pounding the shore and the frantic cries of gulls.

The wine seemed to have loosened her inhibitions—at least that was what she blamed for the path her thoughts were traveling.

“Josh, can I ask you something?” she said.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Uncomfortable enough to cause her to turn her head and look at him. He was sitting with his arms braced behind him. “You don’t want me to ask you anything?” Surely he would want to know the question and then decide if he would answer it.

His frown was back, darker and more intimidating than ever. “Are you looking for me to apologize for kissing you?”

“No!” If he did, she would be offended. Her response to his kiss had been relegated to the far reaches of her mind. She needed time to analyze what had prompted her heady reaction, but she wasn’t up to a lengthy examination just yet.

“What, then?” He crossed his arms.

She closed her eyes and angled her face toward the sun rather than look at him. “Never mind,” she said, silently laughing at him. “It wasn’t important.”

“Ask me,” he barked.

She rolled onto her stomach and trained her gaze on the ocean. “It has to do with Didi Wilson.”

“What about her?”

Gretchen paused, unsure now that she wanted to proceed, but the need burned within her, and she knew she wouldn’t be completely at peace until she discovered the answer. Besides, at this point she couldn’t walk away from the subject gracefully. She inhaled and held her breath momentarily. “I realize it’s none of my business…”

“Listen, if it has to do with Didi and Roger, I’d rather not—”

“No,” she said, interrupting him. “Not them. This has to do with Didi and you.” Her words were like a hatchet coming down on a chopping block.

His gaze pinned her. She exhaled sharply and blurted, “Have you…did you and Didi…you know…do that?” She couldn’t make herself say the words. Make love. Did you make love to Didi? Her heart was laid open, exposed, revealing everything. Over the past six months she’d frequently seen Didi riding through the campus on the back of Josh’s Harley. Her arms had squeezed him, her ample assets pressed against his back.

Now she knew that Josh hadn’t been Didi’s only love interest. With a shock, she realized that while the news of Didi and Roger had shattered her world, if she learned that Josh had been Didi’s lover, as well, she would be devastated. She should have known better than to ask a question when she was afraid of the answer.

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know,” she said hurriedly, then leaped to her feet, kicked off her shoes and raced toward the surf. Her face burned with humiliation, but she had no one to blame but herself. She raced into the ocean, gasping at how cold it was. The surf surged against her thighs before she stopped running. Her pulse pounded in her temple.

“Gretchen!”

She heard Josh call, but she ignored him. The lunch that had made her feel so pleasantly replete now felt like a rock-hard lump in the pit of her stomach.

“Come on, Gretchen, would you listen to me?” He stood at the water’s edge, glaring at her.

“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said. “It was none of my business. Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She pranced about in the shallows, trying to make him think she was having the time of her life.

“Stop that right now.” It was the same tone of voice her father used to employ with her when she was a child and misbehaving. A tone full of authority she didn’t challenge.

She stopped playing in the surf and faced him.

“Didi’s my friend,” he said. “Nothing more. Never has been and never will be. Understand?”

She nodded miserably.

Josh extended his hand to her in much the same way he had the day before, when he’d invited her to climb onto the back of his motorcycle. “Come here before you’re completely drenched.”

The water was so cold her feet had gone numb. Mustering every shred of dignity she possessed, she remained where she was, her chin angled high and proud. How desperately she longed to believe him!

“Don’t make me come in after you.”

“Would you?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but trust me, you’d regret it.”

The threat was as bold as the man himself. “Really?” She reached down and with feigned nonchalance dangled her fingers in the water.

The challenge was there, bold as ever. The confidence he’d exuded didn’t waver as he lowered himself onto the hot sand and removed his boots one at a time. Then he stood and unfastened his belt.

“Josh.” She watched, fascinated.

“I’m not getting these jeans wet. It’s uncomfortable riding in wet pants.” He peeled down the zipper and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops, clearly prepared to remove both his jeans and his underwear.

“Okay, okay. You win.” She raced out of the surf and onto the beach, heading for the blanket. She heard him chuckle and call her a coward as she passed him.

His taunts evolved into a sexy smile as he followed her back to the blanket. It had been a childish thing to do, she thought, challenging him that way. Especially when the outcome had already been decided. Josh would win because he always won.

Soon they were back on the road again, breezing down the highway, soaking up the sunshine and scenery. And she realized he was right. It was uncomfortable riding in wet jeans.

The sun was just beginning to set by the time they reached Newport. Dozens of mammoth kites of various colors and designs battled the wind, rising and plummeting on the fickle fancy of the currents. Campfires flickered here and there along the beach, competing in color with the setting sun.

Gretchen was tired, more tired than she wanted to admit, even to herself. They hadn’t traveled nearly as far as Josh had hoped they would, but then, they’d gotten a late start and taken two hours out for a picnic lunch.

Josh parked the Harley and reached for her hand once they’d stored the helmets. “Let’s get you a hotel room tonight.”

She didn’t miss the implication. While she was nestled up warm in a bed, he would be sleeping on the beach. Alone and cold.

“Hey, I go where you go,” she said.

His eyebrows shot up. “Is that an invitation to your bed?”

She blushed. “No.”

“Pity.” He grinned at her.

Josh teasing? Josh joking? His brief smile went a long way toward lightening her spirits. “You’re nothing but a big phony,” she declared.

His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Beneath that he-man exterior, you’re a pussycat.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t count on it, if I were you.”

“But I already am.”

Once again she found Josh grinning as he located a quiet spot on the beach, one protected from the elements as well as the curious stares of others. Soon they had a fire of their own blazing away. While he unpacked their things, Gretchen smoothed an area of sand and spread the blanket over it. Silently they worked together as a team, then sat down in front of the fire.

“Why’d you want to get me a hotel room?” she asked. They had a wonderful spot on the beach, she realized. The weather was great, and she was as comfortable here as she would be on any bed.

He didn’t answer, and Gretchen, puzzled, glanced at him. “You assumed I need to be pampered, right?” It irked her that he would think that, and her tone told him as much. People often assumed that, because her family was wealthy, she’d been spoiled and coddled her whole life. Certainly she’d been given opportunities that weren’t available to most people her age, but her parents had never overindulged her.

Josh shook his head. “When I first met you, I assumed you’d be another one of those spoiled rich kids, but you’ve proved otherwise.”

She was pleased. Pleased enough to forget her inhibitions, lean over and kiss him. The action had been purely instinctive, without forethought.

He leaned back in surprise. “What was that for?”

“To thank you for the compliment.”

“I complimented you?”

Willing to admit her weariness now, she let her body rest against his, her head on his shoulder. After a time he put his arm around her, and she smiled, utterly content.

“Tell me about your family,” she said lazily. If she hadn’t been propped against him, she might not have felt the tension shoot through him. His back went rigid, and his arms stiffened slightly. She’d done it again. Just when it seemed they were comfortable with each other she’d said something to upset the delicate balance. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten that his father was in prison and he didn’t want to talk about it. “Josh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that my own family is so much a part of me.”

He didn’t respond for what seemed like an eternity, and when he did speak, his voice was gruff with emotion. “My mother died when I was sixteen.” His hand stroked her upper arm, as if he needed the reassurance of human contact.

Gretchen placed a hand over his. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“It happens. My dad was never the same. It was as if he couldn’t bear the agony of losing her, so he chose to self-destruct. He’s serving time, as you know.” He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t ask. Instead, she brought his hand to her face and gently laid her cheek against it.

“A lot of people wonder how I landed at Queen Anne,” he continued, his voice close to her ear. “My grandfather left me money in the form of a trust, the condition being that, if I wanted a college education, I attend his alma mater.”

“Do you want a college education?”

His short laugh was without humor. “I went, didn’t I?”

All evidence she’d seen to this point said he wanted anything but what Queen Anne had to offer. Josh constantly challenged authority. He appeared to go out of his way to cause trouble. Why, only the day before he had given Roger the incentive and opportunity to end his college career right as he was about to graduate. And it would be just like Roger to make whatever trouble he could for Josh and delight in it.

“Why’d you do it?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why’d you slug Roger? He’ll go out of his way to use it against you.”

“Let him,” Josh answered. “I can deal with it.”

“But—”

“The bastard deserved it.”

That much Gretchen agreed with. It had been all she could do not to cheer when she saw Roger’s bloody nose. Especially after he’d attempted to sucker-punch Josh.

Before she allowed herself to think what she was doing, she broke away from him, shifted position and knelt in front of him. His questioning gaze met hers in the dim light afforded by the fire. Smiling, she placed a hand on either side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him.

The surge of desire she experienced when their lips met was enough to make her bold. She wrapped her arms around his neck as their mouths worked together in a frenzy of tongues, lips and unmistakable desire. She offered and he took, greedily.

Abruptly Josh jerked his mouth away from hers. He sat back, panting, his shoulders heaving. “What was that for?” he demanded.

Gretchen’s eyes remained closed. “Don’t ask. Just kiss me like that again.”

“No.”

“No?” Disappointed, she opened her eyes. “Why not?”

“Because you don’t have a clue what you’re doing.” He stood, and she was pleased to note that he didn’t look very steady. She felt decidedly off balance herself, but somehow it was a good feeling.

“Wipe that silly grin off your face,” he muttered.

If she hadn’t been so happy she would have been downright insulted. He’d kissed her and it had been the most wonderful experience of her life. Now he didn’t seem able to hold still. He circumnavigated the blanket three times. She was getting dizzy watching him.

Suddenly it dawned on her, and it was all she could do to keep from giggling. “Joshua Morrow, I tempt you, don’t I?”

He started to deny it and then appeared to think better of it. “I’m getting you that hotel room, and I don’t want any arguments, understand?” His voice was hard and unfriendly. “You’ll sleep alone, too.” She wasn’t sure if he was saying that for her benefit or his.

Gretchen covered her mouth in an effort to contain a brewing fit of laughter.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he demanded.

“Like what?”

“Like…that.” He shrugged as if at a complete loss for words.

She had never seen Josh unnerved, had never suspected she would be one to shatter his cool. It told her that their kisses had affected him as much as they had her. She felt almost giddy with a sense of wonder and power.

“Come on,” he ordered brusquely.

“Where are we going?”

“I told you. I’m getting you a motel room for the night.”

“Josh—”

“Don’t argue with me.” From the tight set of his mouth and his combative stance, she wasn’t inclined to do so.

“Oh, all right, but you’re being ridiculous.”

She rolled her eyes, and then, feeling happier than she had all day, she gathered up her personal items and obediently followed him to the bike. They set off and didn’t find a vacancy until their third stop. Although she was the one who registered, the man at the desk handed the room key to Josh. He hesitated before accepting it; he obviously didn’t want the man to think he would be spending the night with her. Finally his hand closed over the key, and he escorted her outside.

The room was small, the furniture cheap, but overall the place looked clean, despite the faint stale scent hanging in the air. Gretchen set the tote bag holding her belongings on top of the bed.

Josh stood outside the room, his arms crossed in a defensive way that defied her to even try to talk to him. She’d seen him assume that same stance at college a hundred times. The hard-edged look that said he didn’t give a rip about anything or anyone, so you had better keep your distance.

“This OK?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” she assured him.

“Good. I’ll be going, then.”

“You won’t leave me, will you?” she blurted without pausing to think he might take her question differently than she intended. “In the morning,” she clarified. “You’ll still be here, won’t you?” The thought of not seeing him again hit her with a pain she hadn’t anticipated.

His features softened fractionally before he spoke. “I’d never do that. I said I’d deliver you to your family, and I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Out of gratitude, or perhaps relief, she walked across the room and hugged him. He returned the gesture with what felt like reluctance. Once she was in his embrace, she closed her eyes, savoring the closeness.

“Good night,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head.

“Good night,” she returned, stopping herself from asking a series of unnecessary questions, which she knew would only have been an excuse to delay him. She didn’t want to think of him out there alone on the beach, but she couldn’t stop him from going, either.

After what seemed like an inordinate amount of time, they dropped their arms and stepped away from each other. “I’ll shower here in the morning, if you don’t mind,” he said.

She nodded and clenched her hands, already missing him—and he hadn’t even left.

He hesitated for a moment, then was gone.

Alone in her room, Gretchen was certain he’d wanted to tell her something. She’d recognized the look in his eyes. But whatever it was he’d decided to keep it to himself.

She showered, enjoying the glorious sensation of standing under the spray and letting it splash over her face. She slipped into her pajamas and used a sweater for extra warmth. Then, sitting on the bed, she watched TV and brushed her hair, or what there was of it. She wondered how long it would take her to get used to its being this short. Josh had worked miracles with the hack job she’d done. She sighed. For two days they’d spent nearly every minute together, and without him there to share these quiet moments, it felt as if a part of her was missing.

The program ended, and she was about to turn off the television and go to sleep when a loud knock sounded against her door.

She scrambled off the bed, wondering who on earth could be coming to her room this late. “Who is it?” she called, making her voice sound strong and confident.

No response.

“I’m not opening this door until I know who’s there.”

Another moment passed before the answer came.

“Josh.”

Chapter 4

“Josh!” Gretchen undid the locks and threw open the door. Why was he here, especially after acting as if he couldn’t be rid of her fast enough?

“Hi.” He stood on the other side of the door, looking decidedly uncomfortable, as though he wasn’t entirely sure himself why he was there, either.

“Come in.” She stepped aside to let him pass, yet he made no move to venture farther than the doorway.

“I can’t,” he muttered. He rubbed his hand down his face and shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

“You wanted something?” she asked. She drew the sweater more tightly about her and was glad she’d thought to wear socks. Frowning, she thought she smelled beer on him.

He seemed to read her thoughts. “I figured it’d take a little fortification to say what needs to be said.”

“It’s that bad?”

“It’s about what happened,” he said.

“What happened?” She wasn’t playing dumb. She honestly didn’t know what he meant.

“Us, you know?”

“About us…kissing, you mean?”

“Yeah.” He buried his hands in his jeans pockets, and his gaze stubbornly refused to meet hers.

Gretchen had never seen Josh look so self-conscious or tense. She waited, deciding to let him speak without further coaxing from her. The seconds ticked by, and still he remained silent.

At last he met her gaze and said, “Don’t put any stock in those kisses, all right?” His words were stark and half-angry.

At first she didn’t respond, but then she couldn’t keep from asking, “Why not?”

“Because,” he said forcefully, “girls like you don’t get involved with guys like me, understand?”

“Josh—”

He raised a hand, stopping her. “Let me speak. You’ve had a miserable couple of days, and—”

“But I haven’t, not really, I—” His gaze narrowed at her interruption and she shut up.

“You’re no longer engaged to Junior Warbucks. You’re separated from your family at a time when you need their love and support most. It’s only natural for you to turn to me for comfort—natural, but not advisable.”

“You’re making me sound like a child.”

“Whatever,” he announced crisply. “Listen, Gretchen, don’t set your sights on me. I’m not your type.”

She opened her mouth to argue that he was quite possibly exactly the type of man she could love, but he stopped her once again, yanking the rug out from under her feet.

“And you’re not my type, either,” he growled. “I can’t say it any plainer than that, can I?”

His words smarted, and she instinctively jerked back, as if she’d taken a punch in the solar plexus. Every breath brought her pain.

“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he said. “You’re a sweet kid, but it’s best to get this out in the open before you end up getting hurt.”

He thought of her as a kid! Worse, a sweet kid! He made it sound like she was in pigtails, skipping down the beach licking a rainbow lollipop.

“I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding between us,” he continued. “I’ll deliver you to your family, and that’ll be the end of it. So don’t be putting any weight on that kiss. It should never have happened—but I blame myself. Rest assured, nothing like that will happen again.”

“That was what you wanted to say?” she asked, as though exceedingly bored. She wrapped her dignity about her as tightly as she had the sweater.

His eyes registered his surprise at her easy acceptance. “Yeah.”

“Fine, then, you’ve said it.”

He blinked once. No doubt he’d anticipated an argument. Well, she wasn’t about to give him one. If that was the way he felt, she wasn’t going to force herself on him. After all, she still had a thin layer of pride, which was about all she’d managed to salvage after Roger. And what little remained she was determined to guard very carefully.

“If you don’t have anything more to say, I’d like to go to bed.” She forced a loud yawn. She would go to bed, all right, but she knew it would be one hell of a long time before she slept.

Josh turned abruptly and walked away.

Gretchen shut the door, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cool wood. Her heart was heavy. Practically speaking, she had no choice but to accept him at his word. But he hadn’t fooled her. He was interested in her. Very interested.

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