Dr. Nick Jameson

Colleen had known he would be at the wedding. Did he recognize her? She doubted it. How could he recognize someone he had never noticed before?

He saw her now, staring at her so intently that goose bumps rose on the bare skin of her shoulders and arms.

“Hi,” he said. “I missed the rehearsal. Any idea which bridesmaid I walk down the aisle?”

She blinked her eyes open and met his gaze. In his expression there was a flirtatious twinkle. All rational thought fled her mind.

Probably used to women’s tongue-tied reactions, he grinned, and a deep dimple pierced one lean cheek. “I’m the best man.”

“Then you’ll walk down the aisle with the maid of honor,” she informed him. The haughty tone of her voice surprised her.

“I hope that’s you,” he said, flashing the dimpled grin at her.

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Cloverville, Michigan, for the second book in my THE WEDDING PARTY series for Harlequin American Romance. Even if you didn’t read Unexpected Bride, you’ll have no problem figuring out what’s going on now in the small town of Cloverville, because all four books in the series cover the same time frame. Since the stories occur simultaneously, you may recognize some scenes from Unexpected Bride, but from the interesting new perspectives of the best man, Dr. Nick Jameson, and bridesmaid and younger sister of the bride, Colleen McClintock.

Colleen has had a crush on Dr. Jameson forever, but Nick first notices Colleen at the wedding of her sister to his best friend. These two commitment-phobes have no intention of taking a trek down the aisle themselves. But Nick brings out the impulsive nature Colleen has long suppressed, and Colleen turns Nick’s world upside down. I hope you enjoy reading their story!

Happy reading!

Lisa Childs

The Best Man’s Bride
Lisa Childs

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Bestselling, award-winning author Lisa Childs writes paranormal and contemporary romance for Harlequin/Silhouette Books. She lives on thirty acres in west Michigan with her husband, two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks she’s a rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers, who can contact her through her Web site, www.lisachilds.com, or snail mail address, P.O. Box 139, Marne, MI 49435.

For my wonderful, supportive, talented friends:

Mary Gardner and Kimberly Duffy,

finalists in the Romance Writers of America 2007

Golden Heart writing contest—

ladies, you’re both winners with me!

Contents

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Acknowledgments:

With great appreciation to Kathleen Scheibling

and my agent, Jenny Bent, for offering their

guidance and sharing their knowledge.

Chapter One

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Nick Jameson asked his best friend.

“I was going to ask you that,” Josh Towers said as he peered into the mirror on the wall of the groom’s dressing room, straightening a bow tie that was already perfectly straight. But then, nearly everything about Josh was perfect—apart from his taste in women.

Nick sighed. “What do I need to know? I’m not getting married.” Not ever.

“You missed the rehearsal, you know.”

“Hey, I was on call last night.” Nick shrugged, testing the seams on his tuxedo jacket. Tuxedos were called monkey suits for a reason, he thought. They were damned near as comfortable as straitjackets.

Not that he’d ever been in a straitjacket, but if for some reason he considered doing what Josh was—getting married—he’d put himself in one.

“And what’s so hard about what I have to do?” Nick asked his friend. He had stood up with Josh at his other wedding—the first one. He was such a hypocrite. How could he stand up for something in which he put no faith? “I just walk down the aisle with some girl on my arm.”

“You’re the best man,” Josh reminded him. “You’re in charge of the rings, too.” He dug a pair of gold bands out of his pocket and handed them over.

The metal, although warm from Josh’s pocket, chilled Nick’s skin as the rings lay in his palm. The anxiety built in his throat, nearly choking him. He didn’t even like to touch the things.

“Daddy,” one of Josh’s twin four-year-old sons said, “we’re the ring bears.”

“Funny, you don’t look like bears,” Nick teased, chucking the boy under the chin. Must have been Buzz since his black hair had been kept buzzed short for the past two years after he’d gotten hold of Josh’s electric razor. TJ’s hair was a little longer and moussed into half-inch spikes. Both twins had deep blue eyes, and now they stared up at him as if he were trying to make off with one of their Tonka trucks.

“Yeah,” said TJ as he tugged on Nick’s pant leg. The twins’ tuxedos matched his, black with white pleated shirts, black bow ties and red cummerbunds. “We’re supposed to carry the rings.”

Nick would gladly have handed over the gold bands, but he doubted Josh would trust them to the devilish duo. The boys had a well-known penchant for “flushing” things, including their dad’s pager and cell phone.

“Hey, buddy,” Nick said to his best friend, “I’ll let you handle this one.” With a grin, he ducked out of the groom’s room, leaving Josh alone with his unruly twin sons.

No wonder the guy had decided to marry a woman he barely knew. The boys had him outnumbered and he needed help fast—he needed a mother for his sons. Although Nick understood Josh’s reasons, he didn’t agree with his friend’s decision. After the boys’ mom had taken off when the twins were just babies, why would Josh ever trust another woman?

Nick would never make that mistake, not that he didn’t think some women were worthy of trust. His dad swore his mother had been a paragon of virtue. Nick, himself, had never known her. He’d been younger than the twins when she died. It wasn’t that he mistrusted all women, so much as that he really didn’t trust himself. If a guy as smart as Josh hadn’t had the sense to fall for the right woman, a guy like Nick didn’t stand a chance.

Hearing the outraged howl that signaled a major temper tantrum in the groom’s room, Nick walked farther away from the door. Sure, he could have gone inside and tried to help out—he was the best man, after all. But Nick was going to have the boys all to himself during Josh’s honeymoon. If he hadn’t already sworn off marriage and fatherhood, he was damned sure he would after two weeks with the twins.

Another door opened farther down the hall and a group of women spilled out. A young girl dressed like a miniature bride, a blonde, a redhead and a brunette, all dressed in shiny red strapless gowns. Which one of them was he supposed to walk down the aisle?

Maybe he should have come to the rehearsal, but Cloverville, Michigan, was more than an hour from where he worked in Grand Rapids. He sighed. Now he wouldn’t be working only in Grand Rapids; he and Josh would have a practice in Cloverville as soon as their new offices were finished. Personally, he hoped the contractors took their damn sweet time. If Josh wasn’t his best friend, Nick wouldn’t have let the other man talk him into opening their office here. He had no interest in Cloverville.

Then the brunette turned, her rich brown hair moving like a silk curtain around her bare shoulders. His fingers itched with the need to touch it, to see if her hair could possibly be as soft as those chocolate-colored strands appeared. Her gaze met his then, and he realized that her eyes were as deep a brown as her hair.

Nick’s chest clenched and his breath caught, as if he’d slammed on the brakes and his seat belt had pulled too tight. Heat flushed his face and dampened his palms. So that he wouldn’t lose the rings before the ceremony, he wrapped his fingers tightly around them and shoved them deep into his pocket. Even his hand shook. What the hell had just happened to him?

DR. NICK JAMESON. Colleen McClintock had known, of course, that he would be at the wedding. He was, after all, the best man. Did he recognize her? Colleen doubted it. How could he recognize someone he had never even noticed before?

And yet he saw her now, staring at her so intently that goose bumps rose on the bare skin of her shoulders and arms. She regretted talking Brenna out of matching wraps—the maid of honor had been right. Colleen should have risked fumbling the flowers or tripping on the shawl for a little more cover-up.

But between her bad luck and her innate clumsiness, she hadn’t wanted to risk embarrassing herself or her sister. That was probably why Molly had chosen her longtime friend Brenna Kelly as maid of honor instead of Colleen. She’d worried that her little sister would mess up her important day. Or maybe she’d never considered Colleen at all. Kind of like Dr. Nick Jameson hadn’t noticed she existed until today.

Was it the red dress Brenna had chosen? The strapless sheath of satin had somehow produced curves Colleen hadn’t been aware she possessed. And the color was so vibrant—for the first time in a long while she didn’t feel invisible.

“We need to get lined up,” Brenna ordered the others. The wedding party immediately responded to her command. Even Colleen’s headstrong teenage brother, Rory, who never paid attention to anyone, now meekly joined the group outside the bride’s dressing room. Maybe that was why Molly had chosen the redhead as maid of honor. People listened to Brenna Kelly, whereas they rarely heard Colleen.

Of course that was her fault. She’d always been quiet so that her older sister and her friends wouldn’t notice her tagging along. But Molly had never made her feel unwelcome, and over the years her friends had become Colleen’s, as well. Brenna Kelly with her gorgeous red hair and generous curves, and Abby Hamilton, the petite, vivacious blonde, were the best friends Colleen had ever known. Eric South, the lone male member of their group of friends, had backed out of the wedding party just before the rehearsal dinner the previous evening.

So Colleen’s older brother, Clayton, had been left with an additional responsibility. As well as filling in for their dad, who’d died eight years ago, and giving away the bride, he also had to walk Abby down the aisle in Eric’s place. Clayton probably would have preferred walking Abby out the door. He’d always blamed her, unjustly, for any trouble his sisters had gotten into. He had already pulled Abby aside for a private conversation, no doubt warning her not to start anything.

But Colleen hoped that Abby would start something—with Clayton. He needed someone like Abby to loosen him up, to teach him how to play. He’d had to grow up far too fast when their father died—they’d all had to grow up. But Abby, who’d lived away from Cloverville for the past eight years, swore she and her daughter had only come home for the wedding. Abby edged closer to the rest of the wedding party, but early guests had gathered around her and her four-year-old daughter, the miniature bride, clad in a gorgeous white dress.

What about Molly? Had she managed to get into her wedding gown? She’d shooed everyone out of the dressing room before anyone could help her. Colleen turned back toward the closed door. Nerves fluttered in her stomach. Poor Molly.

Even though she hadn’t admitted it out loud, Molly clearly had been having doubts about getting married. Despite being three years younger, Colleen was close to her sister. Actually, Molly had always been more friend than sister. She’d never resented Colleen shadowing her. Why now, when Molly should have been leaning on her friends for support, had she begged them to leave her all alone?

“Hello,” a deep voice murmured, pulling Colleen’s attention back to him.

Dr. Nick Jameson had crossed the hall and now stood in front of her. Even in heels she had to tip her head back a bit to focus on his face and stop thinking about how his broad shoulders filled out his black tux. While he looked handsome enough in scrubs, he was completely devastating in a tuxedo. Sun streaked through the church doors at the end of the hall and glinted off his golden-blond hair so that Colleen had to close her eyes for a moment.

Dizziness rushed over her, but instead of seeing spots behind her closed lids she saw his face, his pale green eyes staring down at her.

“Hi,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse. “I missed the rehearsal. Any idea which bridesmaid I walk down the aisle?”

Colleen blinked her eyes open again and met his gaze. In his eyes there was a flirtatious twinkle. All rational thought fled her mind.

Probably used to women’s tongue-tied reactions, he grinned, and a deep dimple pierced one lean cheek. “I’m the best man.”

He said it as if he was claiming more than his title in the wedding party. Although his arrogance came as no surprise, Colleen lifted a brow.

“Then you’ll walk down the aisle with the maid of honor,” she said. The haughty tone of her own voice surprised her, and she swallowed a shocked gasp. Usually she spoke so soft and quietly that people asked her to repeat herself, if they even realized she’d said something in the first place.

“I hope that’s you,” he said, flashing the dimpled grin at her.

The volunteers and nurses at the hospital in Grand Rapids—where Nick was on staff and Colleen volunteered—would have been envious of Colleen receiving one of “Dr. Yummy’s” rare grins. Her knees, and other parts of her, quivered in reaction. But when she opened her mouth, the haughty voice said, “No, I’m not the maid of honor.”

He pressed a hand against his heart as if she’d hurt him, but then he flashed the grin again and teased, “So you’re not a maid of honor?”

Honor? An honorable person wouldn’t have let a friend take the blame for something she’d done, no matter what the circumstances. While Colleen fumbled for a response to his flirty question, Brenna bustled up.

“Places, everyone,” she barked.

NICK KICKED HIMSELF FOR whatever he’d said that had drained all the color from the brunette’s face and left her eyes dark, wide and haunted. She was so young, probably only in her early twenties. What could she possibly know of dishonor?

“You’re Dr. Jameson,” said the redheaded bridesmaid who’d just joined them. She didn’t even give him a chance to respond before nudging him toward the front of the line.

“We can switch, if he wants,” muttered the teenage boy Nick had met briefly before the kid, Rory McClintock, had skipped outside for air. The curly-haired kid took Nick’s place at the brunette’s side. “It’s lame to walk my sister down the aisle.”

The boy was the bride’s brother, Nick knew. So the brown-haired bridesmaid must be her younger sister. All the McClintocks had the same basic coloring—dark hair, dark eyes. Nick could barely remember the bride’s name, let alone the names of all of her relatives. Of course Josh hadn’t known the girl, Mandy…Mindy…Molly—that was it. Josh hadn’t known Molly very long before he’d proposed. Not nearly long enough to decide to spend the rest of his life with her. But then, given Josh’s history, maybe he’d resigned himself to take however long he could get.

Nick shook his head. He’d rather live alone than trust someone to love him forever. But Josh didn’t have the option of living alone—he had twin boys to raise. Buzz and TJ exploded into the hallway in a tangle of arms, legs and raised voices. With one word from the redhead, however, they fell into line.

As the first notes of the wedding march pealed out, the maid of honor grabbed Nick’s arm and started down the aisle. Nick quickened his pace, to keep from being dragged. He glanced toward her and saw that no smile brightened her face or eyes. Her attitude matched his. Let’s get this over with.

In a minute they’d reached the altar and she released his arm. Before stepping to the bride’s side, she stopped in front of Josh, who was waiting next to the minister. She drew an audible, shaky breath and then moved aside as Nick took his position behind Josh.

Since they’d been kids, they’d watched each other’s backs: teaming up to conquer playground bullies in elementary school, studying together to pass physics in college, then supporting each other through med school. Now, in their venture into private practice, they remained best friends. Nick patted Josh’s shoulder, which was tense beneath his palm. Maybe he’d finally realized what a mistake he was making.

“You can stop this,” Nick murmured, under the swell of organ music.

Josh’s head swiveled toward him. He’d heard Nick’s comment and from his glare he didn’t think much of it. Of course Josh was too nice a guy to back out at the altar and humiliate the bride. The groom turned to face the aisle and so did Nick.

The older brother of the bride, whom Nick had also met in the groom’s room, walked toward them with the blonde. When he left her, almost reluctantly, at the altar, he walked past Josh and then Nick before continuing around the side of the pews and heading for the back. To get the bride. Josh had explained that the bride’s dad had died eight years ago. So apparently Clayton McClintock pulled double duty as a groomsman and stand-in for father of the bride.

Nick turned and focused on the brunette who walked down the aisle now, holding her younger brother’s arm. She wouldn’t have been that old when her dad died, probably not much older than her teenage brother was now. Nick winced in commiseration—not over his mother, whom he really didn’t remember. He’d lost someone else close to him when he’d been a teenager, however. If not for Josh and his friendship, Nick probably wouldn’t have survived that dark period. He owed Josh, and opening an office in Cloverville was small repayment.

Who had she had to lean on when her dad died—her family, friends? Was she like him, in that she had never completely recovered from her loss? Maybe that was why, despite her haughty tone, he’d picked up on vulnerability—even a fragility—in her expressive eyes and delicate face.

The sunshine streaming through the stained-glass windows highlighted the deep brown of her shimmering hair. His heart shifted, pressing against his ribs. Damn, she was beautiful.

What was her name? Had he ever heard it? Probably. But he hadn’t cared. Then.

Now he cared too much. As she released her brother’s arm, she peered briefly at Nick through her thick black lashes. Blood rushed through his veins, and he felt light-headed.

No, he didn’t care. He just hadn’t had enough sleep or food in the past week—damn crazy shifts at the hospital. Maybe Josh was right; maybe the lighter hours of a private practice would be better for them both. Opening their own office wasn’t a new idea. They’d planned it since medical school. But Nick hadn’t thought they’d make the move quite so soon.

The twins headed down the aisle next, having a tug-of-war over the ring bearer’s pillow; once white, it was now smudged with small, chocolate fingerprints. Josh needed more time with his kids. But what would Nick do with extra free time besides sleep? With an effort, he kept his focus on the aisle, refusing to give in to the urge to glance across the altar at the lissome brunette.

Behind the boys, the flower girl walked at a much slower pace, carefully dropping red rose petals onto the white runner. Laughter at her diligence rippled over the wedding guests like the wave at a football game. The organ music intensified dramatically. Nick shuddered at what he’d always considered the ominous tone of the wedding march. The guests rose and turned toward the back of the church.

Nick sure hoped he was wrong about Josh rushing to the altar. He wished a long, happy marriage for his best friend with a woman who would always love him and his sons. He hoped Molly McClintock was that woman.

Like the guests, Nick turned toward the bride’s entrance. But the only person he saw was Clayton McClintock, standing alone on the rose-strewn white runner.

Where the hell is the bride? The thought chased through Nick’s mind as the organ music halted abruptly. Shocked murmurs rose from the guests, quieting to hushed whispers.

Offering reassurance, Nick grabbed Josh’s shoulder, which wasn’t nearly as tense as it had been moments ago. “God, man, I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. He couldn’t imagine the emotions pummeling Josh but worried over the toll they’d take on his friend.

Nick glanced toward the other side of the altar, toward the bride’s sister. Despite his attraction to her, he would never put himself in Josh’s vulnerable position. He would never be anyone’s groom.

“The wedding is going to be slightly delayed,” Clayton said. “The bride is not quite ready yet, so we appreciate your patience. Thank you.”

Nick snorted, recognizing a load of bull when he heard it. Apparently, the blond bridesmaid thought so, too, as she took off at a run toward the back of the church. Clayton McClintock caught her, slowing her down, and the music began—again. The twins, probably thinking a game of tag was afoot, chased each other down the aisle.

The young flower girl, much better behaved than the twins, took the arm of the teenage boy who’d accompanied his sister, leaving the brunette to walk alone as the rest of the wedding party filed out. Nick fell into step beside her, his shoulder nearly brushing hers as they shared the narrow white runner. Sunlight painted her bare skin gold. His fingers ached to touch, to caress her delicate shoulders and arms. To be a proper escort, he crooked his elbow, extending his forearm to her.

She hesitated a moment before extending her hand. Her fingers clutched the sleeve of his jacket, the warmth of her touch penetrating the material. Nick tensed, his body reacting to her closeness. His lungs hurt from the pressure of holding his breath. He’d never been so instantly attracted to a woman. Why her? They’d barely spoken to each other. He didn’t even know her name.

And how could he think about anything but what Josh was going through? He was a terrible friend. He pulled his attention away from the bridesmaid to glance back over his shoulder. Poor Josh.

The redheaded maid of honor had the groom now, clutching his arm and just about dragging him down the aisle as she had Nick. Except now it was over and done with. No matter what the bride’s brother had told the guests, Nick doubted the wedding was just delayed.

What a mess. Anger surged, heating his blood. How dare the bride change her mind now and humiliate such a fine man. Despite Nick being the best man, Josh was the better man. He always treated people with kindness and respect. He didn’t deserve to be hurt like this. Again.

Just like Josh’s first wife, Molly McClintock had sought him out while she was volunteering at the hospital. Yeah, right. Setting a mantrap. That’s what she’d done. And she’d caught him, manipulating him into a marriage proposal after just a few short months of dating. She’d accepted Josh’s proposal and taken his ring. Then she’d stood him up? Her betrayal proved what Nick had known for a long time. Women were not to be trusted.

Sure, there were some honest ones—like his mother, for example—but how was a man to know which ones were after his heart and which ones his wallet?

Chapter Two

Colleen matched her steps to Nick’s as they walked down the aisle and crossed the hall with the rest of the wedding party except for Clayton and Abby, who already stood inside the bride’s dressing room, nose to nose, as they argued.

Of course Clayton would blame Abby. And of course he’d be furious. Feeling responsible, as always, for all his father’s duties, Clayton had taken it upon himself to pay for the wedding and give away the bride. He’d said he couldn’t wait to have one less responsibility. Poor Clayton.

He just didn’t get it. He actually loved being in charge of his younger siblings. Colleen worked for him at the insurance agency he’d taken over after their father died. Although Clayton had given her the title of office manager, he’d never really given her any responsibility. So she didn’t feel all that guilty for the two afternoons a week she spent volunteering at the hospital in Grand Rapids, where the best man and the groom were on staff.

The jilted groom.

The wedding dress hung from a hook on one of the white walls, almost blending in but for the lace and satin that stirred in the breeze blowing through the open window. Molly had run away? Colleen’s stomach churned. Molly was too smart and strong to run. When they were growing up, Colleen had been the one to constantly run away—although no one had ever noticed. So she’d always come home, and Molly would, too. Safe and sound. She had to.

Abby’s argument with Clayton subsided as she unfolded a crumpled note. Of course Molly would have left a note. She’d always been as responsible as their older brother.

“What does it say?” Clayton demanded, asking the question that was burning on everyone else’s lips. “Come on, I’m worried about her. I want to know what it says!”

“It’s a good thing that she ran off,” Abby said, “before making the biggest mistake of her life.”

The groom gasped in surprise, and the muscles in Nick’s left arm tightened beneath Colleen’s fingers. His pale green eyes darkened with anger and a muscle twitched in his jaw, as if he had clenched his teeth to hold in something he was dying to say.

“Josh, I’m sorry.” Clayton offered the apology first, used to assuming responsibility for everyone else. Even Abby?

Nick’s tension didn’t ease, not even when the kids chattered, the twins pulling petals off each other’s boutonnieres. Colleen pulled her hand from his arm and curled her fingers into her palm to quell the tingling. She should have let go of him long ago. Actually she never should have touched him in the first place. He’d made no secret of his disdain for long-term relationships; the other volunteers and the hospital staff had warned her not to develop a crush on the handsome doctor. Nothing would come of it but a broken heart.

“I’m sorry.” Abby offered her apology to Josh. “She doesn’t say that in the note…about making a mistake. She’s just really confused right now.”

“What’s going on?” Rory asked, tugging loose the knot of his bow tie. Colleen was surprised her kid brother had kept it tied as long as he had. “Did Molly really skip out?”

Clayton shrugged. “Ask Abby. She’s the one with the explanation.”

“Is she all right?” Josh asked. His handsome face held none of the anger that was darkening his friend’s eyes.

From her years of volunteering at the hospital, Colleen felt she knew him well. Unlike Dr. Jameson Josh had noticed her, although not the way he’d noticed her sister, who’d only volunteered when she’d had time around her med school classes and studying. Even if he and Molly hadn’t dated all that long, Colleen understood why her big sister had accepted his proposal. Besides being ridiculously handsome, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, Dr. Joshua Towers was a genuinely nice guy.

“She’s okay,” Abby assured him as she clutched the note.

Colleen wasn’t surprised that Molly had trusted Abby with her explanation. She could keep a secret and she would only share what Molly wanted everyone to know.

Abby continued, “She’s just confused right now. She needs some time alone to figure out what she really wants.”

“Maybe she should have figured that out before she accepted Josh’s proposal. It’s pretty damned flaky to back out at the altar,” Nick muttered, pushing his hand through his hair and squeezing the back of his neck.

“Molly is not flaky!” How dare he say anything like that about her sister? He didn’t even know her. Neither had the groom, sadly. Despite dating for a few months, Molly had admitted that due to their crazy schedules, she and Josh hadn’t gone on that many dates. Was that why Molly had backed out of the wedding?

Actually, why had Molly, the focused and sensible McClintock sister, agreed to marry a virtual stranger? Even if he was nice and handsome. Molly wasn’t the type to believe in love at first sight. She never acted impetuously.

Colleen had always been the impetuous one. If any McClintock were to fall in love at first sight, she would be the foolish one.

“It’s my fault,” Josh said, with a heavy sigh. “I rushed her into this, even though I knew she wasn’t ready.”

Nick gripped his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself. She could have told you no. This just goes to show you, they can’t be trusted.”

Colleen sucked in a breath, but she couldn’t really argue. She’d told lies. She’d kept secrets. Nick Jameson was wrong about her sister, but right about her. She couldn’t be trusted, despite how careful she’d been the past eight years to always do the right thing. She couldn’t trust herself not to do something foolish again. Like fall for a man who didn’t believe in love…

FAIRY LIGHTS IN RED and white cast a romantic pink glow, disguising the worn linoleum and painted paneling of the American Legion Hall, which everyone in Cloverville used for their wedding receptions. The biggest facility in town, the hall also hosted anniversary parties, graduation open houses and funeral luncheons.

Funereal described the mood of the wedding party, or at least Colleen’s mood as she stood before the gift table. Her eyes misted and all the vivid colors of the wrapping paper swirled into a kaleidoscope. Molly had asked for time alone to sort things out. But selfishly Colleen wanted to see her sister, to talk to her, so that she could sort things out, too. Like her feelings for a certain blond doctor. His noticing her, finally, had intensified those emotions, so that they couldn’t be dismissed like a harmless crush anymore. And as Colleen had learned in high school, there really wasn’t anything harmless about a crush.

An arm slid around Colleen’s waist and she received a gentle hug. She turned toward her mother. “We should have canceled the reception,” she told Mary McClintock.

Yet Colleen understood her mother’s reasoning in insisting they not cancel. Cloverville’s only caterer, Mrs. George, who was the sole provider for her family, had been cooking for days. She’d had help from Brenna’s parents, the Kellys, too. Regret filled Colleen at the thought of all their hard work going to waste. In addition, her mother had pointed out, the whole town had been looking forward to a party.

“And let all that food go to waste?” Her mother tsked, then shook her head, tumbling soft brown curls around her face.

“Your brother would have a fit, since he paid for it.”

Colleen’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “He’s probably having a fit about paying for it now.” Since their mother, the minute everyone had arrived at the hall, had turned the reception into a welcome home party for Abby Hamilton, the girl Clayton had always considered a bad influence on his sisters. Her smile slid away as guilt took hold. If he only knew that the real troublemaker had been his little sister.

Mom’s arm wound tighter around her waist. Did her mother know? Over the years Colleen sometimes had suspected that she did.

“Ah, it’s good for your brother when everything doesn’t go exactly according to his plan.” Once he’d realized there would be repercussions if he canceled the reception, he’d planned to turn it into an open house for the town. But his mother had had other plans. “Abby would be good for your brother.”

A smile pulled at Colleen’s lips. “Subtle, Mom.”

“You disagree?”

Colleen shook her head. “No.” Her older brother had always fascinated and infuriated Abby Hamilton and the reverse was equally true. “But throwing a welcome-home party for Abby doesn’t guarantee she’s actually going to move home.”

She sighed, thinking of the night before and their impromptu slumber party/bachelorette party, during which she’d tried to convince Abby to come home for good. Abby was looking for a location for the next franchise of her employment agency, Temps to Go. Colleen’s argument that Cloverville, which was growing rapidly, would be the perfect location had fallen on deaf ears. “In fact, she’s pretty set against moving back.”

Mary McClintock’s smile didn’t slip, and her dark eyes twinkled. “Then we’ll have to change her mind, won’t we?”

“Okay.” Colleen had learned long ago that it was easier to agree than argue with her mother. “I’m not going to play matchmaker with you, though.” Probably Abby and Clayton were both too stubborn to ever admit to the attraction that had always simmered between them. “But I want Abby and Lara to move back to Cloverville.”

And not just so Colleen wouldn’t continue to feel so guilty over her leaving. She’d missed her friend. E-mails, phone calls and letters weren’t adequate to fully convey the force of nature that was Abby Hamilton in person. Poor Clayton…

“I want Molly to come home, too,” Colleen admitted. “I’m worried about her.”

“Who says your sister isn’t home?”

“I called the house,” Colleen admitted. “No one answered. Do you think she just went home?”

Her mother shook her head. “She’s not at our house.”

“You know where she is?”

“I think we all know where she is.”

With Eric. He had always been the friend to whom Molly had turned for comfort and support. Maybe she’d backed out of her wedding just because he hadn’t been there.

“She’s okay,” her mother assured Colleen. “She just needs time, like she said in her note.”

Colleen narrowed her eyes and studied her mother’s carefully blank expression. “You talked to her,” she accused. Colleen, as well as Abby and Brenna, had tried Molly’s cell, but it had been turned off. They’d even tried Eric’s, but he’d claimed Molly wasn’t with him. But then, no one had ever been able to lie to Mary McClintock except Colleen.

“Look at all these gifts,” her mother said, suddenly changing the subject, as she gestured at the crowded table. In addition to the gifts, cards overflowed from a wishing well that Colleen had constructed out of cardboard and wrapping paper.

“We’ll have to send everything back.”

“I’ll have Clayton make an announcement for people to pick up their presents before they leave.” Her mother sighed.

“Or maybe I should do that. He has enough responsibility.”

“Clayton thrives on responsibility.” While he might grumble about paying for the reception, he would not allow anyone else to assume the duty he considered, like so many others, to be his. Dr. Towers had already said that he would pay for the reception, but Clayton had insisted.

Mary McClintock shook her head. “He needs more in life. He needs a wife. Children.”

Colleen snorted, well aware of the fact that her brother shared Dr. Jameson’s views on marriage. He had no intention of ever having a wedding of his own.

Her derision didn’t faze her mom, however, who continued, “The same things you need.”

“A wife?” she teased, used to dealing with her mother’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking. Mary McClintock refused to accept that Colleen wasn’t ready for marriage—not now, and maybe not ever.

Mom squeezed her waist. “A husband.”

An image of Dr. Nick Jameson, standing at the altar, flashed into her mind, and Colleen’s pulse quickened. “I’m only twenty-three.”

Her mother smiled wistfully. “I was barely twenty when I married your father.”

And look how that had ended, with more heartache than any woman should have to endure.

Colleen blinked again to clear the mist from her eyes. That was why she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t strong enough yet to deal with the kind of loss her mother had experienced. She doubted she would ever be that strong. She far preferred unrequited crushes to a relationship.

“You and the best man made quite the dashing couple when he escorted you out of the church,” her mother observed.

“I wasn’t the only one to notice.”

Colleen bit the inside of her cheek, but the arrival of several of the town busybodies saved her from responding. The organist, Mrs. Hild, in a wildflower-patterned dress and wide-brimmed hat, pulled her mother into a hug. “Oh, Mary, you were so brave to turn the-wedding-that-wasn’t into a party.”

The wedding-that-wasn’t.

“And generous,” Mrs. Carpenter added. She was married to the owner of the hardware store, one of the thriftiest men in town.

“Poor Molly,” Mrs. Hild murmured.

Poor Molly. They shouldn’t be having her reception without her. Despite her request for time alone, they should probably be out looking for her. Maybe Eric had been telling the truth, and Molly really wasn’t with him. Colleen knew how it felt to run away and have no one care enough to come looking. She murmured some excuse, letting her mother handle the gossips. As she walked away, Colleen passed the cake table. The five-tier confection rose in a pyramid to the little plastic figurine standing at the top. Alone. Just the groom. The bride was gone.

“THIS IS A MISTAKE,” Nick said, letting the door close behind him as he stepped inside the men’s restroom with the jilted groom.

Josh crossed the green tile floor to a row of old porcelain sinks, then ran water over his palms to splash on his face. “I’m surprised you’ve controlled yourself this long.”

Nick tensed. “What?”

He should have known that he could hide nothing from his oldest, closest friend. Josh must have noticed how hard Nick had fought his attraction to the young bridesmaid, which hadn’t been easy plastered against her in the back of a limousine. Trying to make some space between the two of them, he’d inadvertently knocked the maid of honor off the end of the bench seat. He had to focus on his friend now, and not on some female who would probably prove as untrustworthy as her sister.

“I don’t know how you managed to wait this long to say I told you so.” Josh’s hands shook as he dragged them over his face.

“Man, that’s not why…”

“You followed me into the bathroom?” Josh finished for him.

“We shouldn’t even be here,” Nick said. “This is a mistake, coming to your reception when you’ve skipped the wedding.”

“I didn’t skip the wedding.” Josh laughed. “Only the bride skipped the wedding.”

“Why are we here?” Nick asked, concern for his friend increasing. Josh had had a rough time when his first wife abandoned him and the boys. What must he be going through now? Besides the obvious denial?

“Like Mrs. McClintock said back at the church,” Josh reminded him, “the food is already paid for.”

By the bride’s brother. But Josh had tried to pay—Nick had heard him offer more than once. That was the kind of guy Josh was, generous and selfless. Nick shook his head, bemused as always, that they were friends when they were so different.

“The whole town was looking forward to a party, and like I reminded you in the limo,” Josh continued, “we’re opening an office here. We need to meet our potential patients.”

Nick didn’t need the reminder about the office. Even before the bride had vanished, he’d been against opening a practice in Cloverville. While he couldn’t argue that the town was growing, it still wasn’t big city enough for him or close enough to the hospital where they had surgical privileges. But Josh’s dream had always been to open a small-town practice, a partnership. Nick had made Josh’s dream his—except for the small-town part. “All two patients?” he scoffed.

Josh snorted. “We’re going to have more than that. The only other doctor in town retired last year.”

“Retired or went bankrupt,” Nick muttered. “And he was a G.P. We’re not general practitioners. Does this town really need an orthopedic surgeon and a plastic surgeon?”

“Plastic surgery may be my specialty, but I intend to handle more,” Josh reminded him. “Cloverville’s just in the burbs of Grand Rapids. We still have surgical privileges at the hospital. We’ll have plenty of patients. They just have to get to know us.”

Nick wasn’t comfortable with anyone getting to know him.

“That’s why we’re here,” Josh continued.

“You didn’t have to come,” Nick pointed out. They hadn’t had to use the limo, either, even though it had already been paid for, too. But the entire wedding party had ridden together to the reception—well, everyone but the bride. “I could have represented us here.”

“And ushered us into the poorhouse,” Josh teased. “You’d scare away more patients than you’d attract. You’re not exactly known for your bedside manner.”

Who had time for small talk? He’d never had. He’d rather repair people’s broken bones or replace their hips and knees than discuss the weather. “I’m a surgeon.”

“I am, too.”

Dr. Joshua Towers had a bedside manner other doctors envied. Everyone loved Josh. Well, everyone but the women he loved. How did someone so smart keep falling for unsuitable women? Not that Molly McClintock had seemed unsuitable. As well as being beautiful, she was smart. Nick personally knew how tough medical school was. And the few times Nick had met her, she’d seemed sweet—far sweeter than Josh’s money-grubbing ex. In fact, she’d seemed the exact opposite of Amy. No wonder Josh had proposed so quickly.

“You’re also a man who just got left at the altar,” Nick said, knowing Josh was used to, and even relied on, his brutal honesty. When he needed it, Josh had always been there for him. “No one expected you to show up for the reception after what just happened. Come on, what’s really going on with you?”

Josh offered a halfhearted smile. “The boys wanted to party.”

Nick narrowed his eyes as his suspicions grew. “You think she’ll show up here? Is that what you’re doing? Waiting for her?”

Although he hadn’t really gotten to know Molly McClintock, he doubted she’d have the guts to show her face to the whole town after the stunt she’d just pulled. “She’s not coming.”

“Probably not,” Josh agreed.

Probably. So he held out some hope. Just how optimistic could the guy be? Too damned optimistic, Nick answered his own question.

Josh sighed. “I’m staying in Cloverville, and I know I should have told you this already. I don’t have possession of it yet, but I’ve bought a house here—for me and the boys.”

And the woman he’d intended to marry. Nick’s guts twisted with his friend’s pain.

“Why’d you do that?” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, trying to hold both his temper and his tongue. “The office isn’t going to be done for a while.”

“But it will be done, Nick.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t be.”

“We have a lot of money invested.”

Nick massaged the tense cords that stood out on the back of his neck. “This is a bad idea.”

Josh lifted his head, and Nick met his gaze in the mirror. “You can’t back out on me.”

“Never. You know that, man. I got your back.” He sighed.

“The practice isn’t the bad idea. It’s this town that is.”

“You never wanted the office here,” Josh conceded.

Nick resurrected his old argument. “It’s too far from the hospital. We can’t do surgeries out of the office…” If they got any business at all.

“But you agreed.”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Agitated, Nick blew out a ragged sigh. “And you thought there was something here for you.”

“There’s still something here for me.”

“She left you at the altar,” Nick said even though he was sure the jilted groom didn’t need the reminder. “Why would you still want her?”

Josh’s blue eyes hardened with determination. “I want to talk to her.”

“You’re…”

“Crazy?”

He certainly hoped not. He didn’t want his best friend doing anything stupid. Nick had already lost someone he loved to a broken heart—his older brother, Bruce, had fallen apart when his pregnant wife left him. Devastated to find out that the baby she was carrying wasn’t his, he’d started to drink. And he hadn’t stopped until he drove into a tree. Nick hadn’t been able to save his big brother, from his pain or from himself.

But he wouldn’t fail Josh as he had Bruce. He hadn’t stepped in with sympathy or support; he hadn’t been there, when his brother had needed him most. He wouldn’t make that mistake with Josh. He couldn’t lose his best friend as he had his brother. “No, you’re not crazy.”

Maybe he’d just gotten into the punch. Although the little brass plate on the crystal bowl described it as nonalcoholic, Nick definitely had tasted vodka in the fruity concoction. The alcohol still burned in his stomach but it didn’t take the edge off his anger. Right now, he hated Molly McClintock for putting Josh through more pain.

Josh sighed again. “Hell, maybe I am crazy.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Nick suggested.

“Yeah, I better find the boys. I thought they might be in here.”

“Think they’re flushing something down the toilet?”

Josh shook his head, but Nick doubted he was denying their capacity for naughtiness. Josh knew what hellions his sons were. He got regular reports from the boys’ nannies right before they quit working for him. Maybe that was why he’d wanted to get married. But hell, from the way Josh’s first wife had walked out on them, he had to know that a second wife could quit, too.

“I’m not talking about leaving just the reception,” Nick continued. “I’m talking about this town. Once the office is done we can sell the building and build or lease one closer to the hospital in Grand Rapids.”

“The house…”

“You said you don’t have possession yet. The seller was probably in church today.” Hadn’t the whole damn town been there? “He’d understand that you changed your mind. I’m sure you could back out.”

“We closed escrow already,” Josh said. “And I gave my word.”

Once Josh gave his word, he didn’t go back on it. Unlike his runaway bride. “Then you can sell it—”

“It needs some work.”

Nick shook his head. “Come on, let’s get out of Cloverville. There’s nothing for you here.”

“I think there is,” Josh insisted, his blue eyes bright with hope. He paused beside Nick and clasped his shoulder. “Maybe there would be for you, too, if you’d give it a chance.”

What? The town—or a certain brown-haired bridesmaid? He didn’t ask and Josh didn’t offer an explanation before his hand slid away and he left.

Nick let the door close behind his friend and walked to the sink to splash water on his own face. He should be relieved that Josh was still so optimistic. Optimism was way better than despair.

Nick acknowledged the fact that he probably didn’t have to worry about Josh, but his heart didn’t lift with relief. Maybe he wasn’t worried about Josh. Maybe he was worried about himself. Because the minute he stepped out of the restroom, he searched the crowded reception hall for her. Colleen, he’d heard her friends call her. She stood with the other bridesmaids huddled near the head table where they’d just eaten the most awkward dinner Nick had ever been a part of.

The bride’s mom had turned the reception into a welcome-home party for the blond bridesmaid and her young daughter, and while the guests had enthusiastically greeted the young woman and her child, they’d still had time to stare at Josh. And Nick.

Probably wondering when he was going to blow. How could Josh be so understanding and forgiving? Nick wanted to hurt someone.

Chapter Three

Colleen shivered as Nick Jameson approached, passing Abby as she headed away from him, toward the dance floor.

“Do you know Dr. Jameson from the hospital?” Brenna asked. She was one of the few people in Cloverville who knew Colleen volunteered at the hospital in Grand Rapids, but even she didn’t know why.

Colleen hadn’t actually ever met Dr. Jameson. He never acknowledged any of the volunteers, no matter how desperately some of them fought for his attention. “I only know him by reputation.”

As a no-nonsense orthopedic surgeon. Not only the volunteers but several of the female staff obsessed over him, longing to experience his “elusive” bedside manner, but Colleen wasn’t one of those women who’d considered breaking her leg to get his attention. As he closed the distance between them now, Colleen’s pulse quickened. She had preferred it when he hadn’t noticed her at all.

His gaze moved over her like a caress, lingering on her bare shoulders and the low bodice of her dress. Why look at her meager cleavage when she stood next to a Grecian goddess like Brenna? And yet he didn’t even glance at the redhead, although he addressed them both. “Ladies.”

“Dr. Jameson,” Brenna said. “Have you seen Josh? Is he okay?”

Nick’s shoulders twitched stiffly in a tense shrug. “I don’t know. He’s looking for TJ and Buzz.”

Brenna smiled, and her green eyes softened with affection. “The boys are with my parents. I’ll let Josh know.”

Colleen reached out, trying to catch her friend’s arm, but the maid of honor slipped away, leaving Colleen alone with Nick Jameson. He closed his hand around her outstretched one, entwining his long fingers with hers. Colleen drew in a deep breath as indescribable sensations raced through her. She tugged on her hand, but he didn’t release her.

“Let’s dance,” he said, leading her toward the crowded floor before she could sputter out a protest.

And she would have protested. She didn’t want to dance with a man who’d called her sister flaky. Hypocrite. She didn’t want to dance with a man who’d seen her any number of times but had never noticed her before.

Until today. Until she wore the red dress Brenna had picked out for the bridesmaids to wear. Despite the fact that she was the bride, Molly had made none of the arrangements for her wedding. Given her apparent disinterest, maybe no one should have been surprised that she’d backed out of the marriage. But Molly wasn’t flaky, as Nick had said. Once she set her mind on something, she followed through—like becoming a doctor. While Colleen liked volunteering at the hospital, she would never have been able to handle the studies, as Molly had, taking time off from medical school only for her wedding. Her wedding-that-wasn’t.

Josh’s wedding, too.

“How is the groom?” she asked, as Nick led her in between the other dancing couples and kids to a remote corner of the floor.

“Groom?” he snorted as he pulled her into his arms.

“Groom implies that there was a wedding.” His jaw taut, he ground out his words. “There was no wedding. There was no bride. So no, there is no groom.”

Colleen’s reluctance to dance with him had nothing to do with her wounded ego. She couldn’t dance with a man this angry with her sister. He acted as if he were the jilted groom. She stopped moving and tried to pull away, but his hands continued to hold her close.

His breath shuddered out, stirring her hair. “He’s my best friend.” Emotion cracked the deep smoothness of his voice. “I hate to see him go through this again.”

“Again?” Oh, God, the poor man…

“He didn’t get left at the altar before. But when the twins were babies, their mom, Josh’s first wife, just took off.”

Like Molly had. Probably not out a window, but still she’d abandoned her husband and children. Colleen knew what it felt like to be abandoned. Shortly after her dad died, Molly and Brenna had left for college, Eric had enlisted in the Marines and Abby had just…left. Colleen had never felt so alone. She lifted her hand to Nick’s shoulder and settled back into his arms, moving her feet to follow his lead as the music played, low and smoky. “I’m sorry.”

Nick shrugged, muscles rippling beneath her palm. “He says he’s staying in Cloverville.”

Waiting for Molly. Men waited for Molly. They didn’t even notice Colleen. Usually.

NICK SHIFTED HIS HAND against her back. Moving his palm over the smooth red satin, he longed to touch her, to see if her skin was as silky as the dress. She was so slender his hand nearly spanned the back of her waist. He nudged her closer, so that she settled against his chest. His pulse leaped as he breathed in the scent of lilies from a small sprig of flowers clasped in her hair. Some of the chocolate-colored strands brushed his chin and throat. He’d never felt anything as soft except for the kitten he’d once bought the twins. But the boys’ rambuctiousness had scared the little thing so much he’d had to rescue it from them.

When he tilted Colleen’s chin, she stared up at him with enormous dark eyes, as vulnerable and frightened as the kitten had been. Why did she fear him? Did she feel his barely controlled anger over how her sister had humiliated his best friend?

Or did she feel the desire he could hardly control at this moment—for her? “Colleen…”

Something about her, that vulnerability, her youth and air of innocence, suggested she needed rescuing and compelled him to step up and save her. But Nick knew, the only one from whom he could save her was himself. His anger still simmered, but he couldn’t hurt her.

As she blinked, thick black lashes brushed her cheekbones. She had the face of a model, with huge expressive eyes, exquisite cheekbones, delicate nose and generous lips. Kissable lips.

He jerked up his chin, tearing his gaze from her face. Over her head he glimpsed another couple on the dance floor, and watched as the tall man leaned over the petite woman in his arms. Clayton McClintock was kissing the blond bridesmaid with hunger and passion. The way Nick wanted to kiss Colleen.

What the hell was he thinking? Even if her sister hadn’t left Josh at the altar, he wouldn’t want to get mixed up with some young girl from Cloverville. Small-town women expected commitments. They wanted husbands and kids. He couldn’t give Colleen McClintock any of those things. He would never put himself in that position, being so vulnerable to another person. If Josh, if Bruce, hadn’t picked the right woman to love, how could he?

“Dr. Jameson?” she said, her voice soft and tentative rather than haughty as it had seemed at the church. Which voice matched the real woman? Her change in attitude reminded him that he couldn’t trust his instincts, not regarding women.

“Use my first name,” he told her. He didn’t want this woman calling him Doctor. He wanted to hear his name on her lips, but she didn’t say a thing. She just stared up at him, those deep eyes so fathomless they were impossible to read. Did she really not know his name? Maybe she didn’t. He hadn’t known hers, either. “Nick.”

“Nick,” she repeated, her voice breathless as her gaze held his.

His heart pounded and adrenaline rushed through his veins with the heat of desire. All she had to do was say his name and he nearly forgot his anger at the way her sister had treated Josh.

“Nick.” She said his name again. “You were going to tell me something.”

That was before he’d been overcome with the urge to kiss her. He drew in a deep breath, remembering his decision. “Since Josh is staying in Cloverville, so am I.”

COLLEEN REACHED FOR THE glass of punch she’d left on the head table next to her purse. She hadn’t had time to take a sip, for the mingling and the desperate calls she’d been placing to Molly’s turned-off cell. And the dancing. She shouldn’t have danced with the best man.

Fortunately, the slow song had ended just as he’d told her of his intention to stay in town. She’d been able to pull away without drawing attention to them. Then she’d lost him in the crowd of dancers. Or maybe he hadn’t tried to follow her. Why would he? Just because a couple of times he’d leaned forward as if he’d been about to kiss her?

She’d probably only imagined seeing desire in his eyes because she’d had a crush on him for so long. While he didn’t have Josh’s bedside manner, he was a brilliant surgeon. But more than his medical expertise or his fair-haired good looks, she’d been drawn to the sense of sadness that surrounded him, as if he, too, had experienced loss. In him, she’d felt as if she’d recognized a kindred spirit. But she’d probably only imagined that, too. She and Dr. Nick Jameson were nothing alike, and she needed to get a trip on those feelings she had for him.

She’d impulsively acted on one other crush, a long time ago. But the object of her affection hadn’t really wanted her. The arrogant high school jock had only been interested in bragging rights. She’d vowed then to never give herself away again. But why did she suspect that acting impulsively with a man such as Nick Jameson would be infinitely more enjoyable than her youthful experience with a clumsy boy?

Heat, as hot as what she thought she’d glimpsed in Nick’s eyes, flashed through her, leaving her parched. Hand shaking, she lifted the plastic cup to her lips. She gulped the red punch, then sputtered and coughed as alcohol burned her throat. Who’d spiked it?

Rory. Blinking tears from her eyes, she scanned the reception hall for her teenage brother. Where was the little jerk? Probably outside smoking.

She headed toward the door, where Abby and Brenna stood, deep in conversation. Guilt ate at Colleen as she took in the distraught brightness of Abby’s eyes, the way she nibbled on her bottom lip. Abby hated being back in Cloverville. The whole time she’d been growing up, she couldn’t wait to leave. Was Colleen being selfish in still wanting her to move home? Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to help her mother convince her friend to stay. If only Abby and Clayton would stop fighting their feelings for each other…

“Blame it on the wedding,” Abby said.

“The wedding-that-wasn’t,” Colleen murmured. “That’s what everyone’s calling it.” Someone opened the door behind Abby, and cool night air rushed in, soothing Colleen’s overheated skin. Her head cleared slightly, but her emotions grew more muddled. Clayton wasn’t the only McClintock who was determined to fight his feelings. Maybe Molly had been as afraid to give herself to someone as Colleen was, and that was why she’d bolted before saying her vows.

“So you think Molly’s really okay?” Colleen asked, needing Brenna and Abby’s reassurance. Molly must have been really afraid to back out on such an important promise. “That she just needs time like her note said?”

Abby reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, checking for voice mail. “No messages.”

Brenna shook her head, tumbling locks of brilliant red hair around her shoulders. “I think she meant that she needed more than a few hours.”

Colleen sighed. “She also said she wanted time alone. Do you really believe she’s alone? When I called Eric, he said he hadn’t seen her, but…”

Could they believe Eric, after the way he’d backed out of the wedding party at the last minute? After Molly went out the window, each of the bridesmaids had called him, but he’d sworn he hadn’t seen Molly.

“Eric would lie for her,” Brenna said.

“He’d do more than lie,” Abby reminded them.

Jealousy caused the sweet spiked punch to swirl in Colleen’s stomach. Her first crush hadn’t been on the high school jerk but on Eric South. Yet years ago, during her adolescence, she’d buried that unrequited crush on Eric, as well as her resentment of her brilliant, beautiful older sister. Molly couldn’t help being Molly, the one everyone adored. Colleen had long ago accepted that she would never be Molly, and like everyone else, she adored her older sister. She didn’t resent her. Not anymore.

But just once, would it be too much to ask for someone to adore her? Feeling a penetrating stare, she lifted her gaze to him.

NICK SWALLOWED HARD, his mouth dry as he held her gaze. He lifted the plastic cup, sniffed the rim, but didn’t take a sip from her glass. Her lipstick, deep crimson, marked the cup in the shape of her full lips. She’d drunk the spiked punch. Was she aware that she had? She’d been so distracted that when she’d gone off to huddle with the other bridesmaids, she’d left her purse on the table.

He lifted his gaze from her beaded crimson bag to study the women who stood near the door. They knew where the bride had gone. Women talked to each other. They didn’t talk to him. They flirted. They teased. They never talked.

But maybe that was Nick’s fault. He never talked to anyone but Josh anymore.

He couldn’t lose his best friend the way he’d lost his big brother, for so long the guiding force in Nick’s life. Hell, if not for Bruce, Nick wouldn’t have had a life. His brother had saved him from the car accident that had claimed their mother’s life. Nick had owed him, but he’d let him down. He hadn’t been there when Bruce had needed him. He wouldn’t make the same mistake with Josh.

For his best friend, Nick would make any sacrifice. He’d even spend time with the most tempting woman he’d ever met—but only to pump her for information. Finding the groom’s runaway bride had become one of Nick’s duties, as best man. While he hadn’t agreed with much that his friend had said in the bathroom, he acknowledged the fact that Josh needed to talk to Molly. The sooner he did and accepted that she didn’t and would never love him, the sooner Josh could put her and Cloverville behind him and move on.

Maybe that space on Michigan Avenue in Grand Rapids was still available. Sure, the rent had been more than the mortgage payments on the building in Cloverville, but they could swing it. Together. Like they’d done everything else.

Nick glanced down at Colleen’s nearly empty cup. Had she had enough to, as his dad would say, prime the pump?

“Thinking of mugging me?” a soft voice asked.

Those tense muscles in his neck prompted a grimace as he whipped his head toward her, to where she stood not more than an arm’s length away. How had he not noticed her approach, when he’d hardly taken his gaze off her all day?

What was it about her that drew and held his attention? Was it the bright red dress that bared her shoulders and the delicate ridge of her collarbone? Was it the glossiness of her sable hair? Or the warmth and vulnerability in her deep brown eyes?

She stepped closer, as if she doubted he’d heard her over the music and raised voices of the other wedding guests. “Are you?”

His pulse leaped in reaction. She was so damn beautiful that all rational thought fled his mind. All his plans, all his convictions evaporated in the heat of his attraction to her. “What?”

She gestured toward the beaded bag, which he hadn’t realized he held. “I didn’t figure you for a purse snatcher,” she teased, her eyes shining.

“You left it here,” he pointed out, “unattended.”

“This is Cloverville,” she said, as if that explained everything.

He lifted a brow. “And there’s no crime in Cloverville?”

“Nothing more serious than my idiot brother and his degenerate friends spiking the punch.” She extended her hand, reaching for her bag.

But he held tight. “I can’t give this to you.”

“What?”

When he fumbled with the rhinestone clasp, she gasped at his audacity. She had no idea how bold he could be, but now he wanted her to know. He wanted her to know him.

“I have to take your keys,” he insisted. “You can’t drink and drive.” As a surgeon, he’d seen far too many drunk drivers and the people hurt by them.

“I’m not driving.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed, as he pulled out her key ring.

“Hey, those are my house keys, too,” she protested.

“This is Cloverville. No crime,” he said, tossing her words back at her. “I doubt anyone here locks his door.”

Colleen opened and then closed her mouth, completely at a loss. Her mother had never locked her front door, and since Colleen still lived at home, she could get inside without a key. But still, he had no right to take her property. No right to tease her.

An urge came over her to tease him back, to make him want her as she’d wanted him for so long. The reckless desire coursed through her veins with all the fire of the spiked punch. Maybe she’d stifled her impetuous nature for too long. Or maybe the punch had loosened her inhibitions. Either way, she couldn’t act. She knew the ramifications of impulsive behavior. She always wound up getting hurt or humiliated.

“Give me my keys and my purse,” she demanded as she managed to summon her earlier haughtiness again. But her hand trembled as she held it out.

“I will,” he agreed. Too easily. “After I walk you home.”

She ignored the traitorous leap of her heartbeat and lifted her chin, saying firmly, “I’m not leaving.”

“Your blond friend has already left. And there goes the redhead with Josh.” He gestured toward the door.

Colleen followed his gaze. Looking like an old married couple, Brenna walked alongside the groom, each of them carrying a sleeping twin. Their seemingly boundless energy was finally spent.

“Abby Hamilton is ‘the blonde,’” she informed him, annoyed that he knew no one’s name. He’d skipped the rehearsal dinner, of course, so he hadn’t officially met anyone. But he could have at least read a program. “And Brenna Kelly is the maid of honor.”

“The maid of honor put up Josh and the twins last night,” Nick observed.

Yet she could hardly blame Nick for not being invested in the wedding when even the bride hadn’t seemed to care about the plans. Colleen nodded. “Brenna put them up at her folks’ house, so the groom wouldn’t see the bride before the wedding.”

Even so catering to superstition hadn’t saved them from bad luck.

Nick snorted, probably sharing the same thought. “They’ve extended their hospitality even longer,” he said, as if amazed at their generosity. “He’s still staying with the Kellys.” His voice turned bitter as he added, “He’s waiting for your sister to return.”

“Molly will come back,” she assured him. If she’d ever really left Cloverville, which Colleen doubted. She had to be at Eric’s, safe and protected.

Nick’s pale green eyes narrowed as he stared at her. “Do you know where she is?”

As Colleen shook her head, her stomach was doing flips from nerves and punch. She really needed to find Rory—the teenager had to learn there were consequences to thoughtless actions. Colleen hadn’t been much older than he was now when she’d learned that painful lesson.

NICK HAD LOST HER again…to that place she retreated when all the color drained from her face and her eyes darkened, haunted with regret.

“Come on,” he said, taking her by the elbow to guide her toward the exit. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

But she followed his lead, as she had on the dance floor, their steps perfectly in sync.

It occurred to Nick that’d he’d never been as attuned to another person, not even his best friend, and especially not his brother.

“I don’t need air, and I don’t need you to walk me home.” Instead of sounding petulant, she sounded proud. Her voice was strong with spirit and independence.

Nick pushed open the outside door, and Colleen passed by him into the cool night. Crickets chirped in accompaniment to the buzz of fluorescent lights as flood lamps illuminated the parking lot. “But you’re leaving.”

“As you pointed out,” she said, her voice soft, lost, “all my friends have left.”

Why did he suddenly suspect it wasn’t the first time Colleen McClintock had been left behind? She was younger than her sister and the other bridesmaids. When they’d gone off to college, she would have still been in high school. She was young. Far too young for him. Even though he was only thirty-two, he felt much older. He swallowed back a sigh. And tired. Damn, he was tired. Too many long hours, too many old regrets.

“When you said earlier that you were staying, you made it sound like more than just tonight. Are you really staying in Cloverville?” she asked as they crossed the parking lot.

“Yes.” He couldn’t leave Josh alone; he’d made that mistake before. “Like Josh, I have the next couple of weeks off.” And he didn’t intend to let his friend out of his sight until he was sure he was really all right.

“But where are you staying? With Josh and the twins staying there, the Kellys don’t have any more room. And Cloverville has no hotels,” she said, her lips lifting in a satisfied smile. “No inns. No bed and breakfasts.”

Nick realized she didn’t want him to stay. He shouldn’t care. He knew nothing could come of the attraction he felt for her, and not just because she was too young for him.

“Your brother offered me his spare room,” Nick said.

She lifted her face toward him, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Really? Clayton prefers being alone, or so he claims.”

Nick shrugged, uncertain why McClintock had offered him a guest room. “I think he feels responsible for your sister skipping out on the wedding.”

She let out a derisive laugh. “That sounds like Clayton—responsible.”

“Or guilty.”

“That sounds more like me,” she murmured, her voice weary with regret.

“What?” he asked, dipping his head closer to hers, to where the lilies had wilted in her hair. “Feeling guilty because you’re hiding your sister?”

“I’m not hiding Molly.”

“But you know where she is?” And who was hiding her.

“Why do you care?” she asked, defensiveness on her sister’s behalf hiding her own vulnerability.

He cared because he needed to protect his friend. So why did he feel as if he needed to protect Colleen McClintock, too? “If you’re not hiding your sister, what are you feeling guilty about?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know why I said that to you. I guess I did have too much punch.”

“How old are you?” he wondered aloud.

“Twenty-three.”

Too young to be haunted by all the regrets that he had.

“What do you know about guilt?”

“Too much,” she murmured, as she stepped onto the sidewalk and into the shadows cast by the canopy of tree branches overhead.

“Are you like your sister?” he asked as he followed her along the path. Moonlight streaked through the trees and glittered in her eyes as she stared up at him.

“Molly? No, Molly and I are nothing alike,” she assured him. She sounded apologetic now, as if she felt she didn’t measure up to her older sister. He understood idolizing an older sibling. Maybe if he hadn’t idolized his own brother so much, he would have realized that Bruce was in trouble.

While he tried for a teasing tone, his voice betrayed him, going hoarse with emotion as he asked, “So you’re not feeling guilty for breaking some poor man’s heart into a thousand pieces?”

“Nobody’s ever loved me that way,” she said, her voice echoing the longing and loneliness he sometimes felt himself…

He shook his head in disbelief, then reached out to take her hand and tug her to a stop. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t like this town.”

“What?” she asked.

“All the men are fools.”

She emitted a laugh, shaky with nerves. “You better hope Clayton didn’t overhear you saying that. You’ll lose your bed for the night.”

He’d rather be in hers. The dangerous thought staggered him. Then she staggered him as her hand slid into his hair and pulled his head down to hers. Her lips, soft and sweet, touched his, tentatively at first, and then they moved surely, as passion ignited the air between them.

Nick threw his arm around her, pulling her so close that not a breath separated her body from his. He drew her in, deepening the kiss. His tongue slid between her lips, tasting her, teasing her, full of promise.

Colleen’s lips made promises, too, melding against his in a kiss so hot his skin nearly burned. His heart beat hard and fast, blood rushing in his ears and lower, pulsing through his body. He groaned, wanting her so much he hurt.

Pain nagged at the edge of Colleen’s pleasure, pulling her away from the intensity of his kiss. Her knees shook and her body trembled all over. She’d never before experienced emotions like these, the fierce desire quivering deep inside her. She wanted him so badly, but the pain deepened, drawing her out of his spell. Her keys—he held them in the hand pressing against her back—dug through the thin material of her dress and into her skin.

That was the price of passion, the price of love. Pain. She knew it well, remembering all the nights she’d listened to her mother cry over her father. Colleen pulled her hand away from his silky hair and wedged it between them, pushing against his chest. Muscles rippled beneath her palm, and his heart pounded hard against it, echoing the furious beat of hers.

She tore her mouth from his, gasping for air. Gasping for words. “Nick…”

His lips slid down her cheek, nipping at her ear before kissing her throat. “Colleen, let me share your bed,” he murmured.

She steeled her trembling knees and quelled the urges running riot within her body. She’d spun so many fantasies around this man; fantasies she’d considered safe, since she thought they’d never come true. He would never notice her. He would never touch her. Kiss her. Make love to her.

She reached around, pulling her purse and keys from the hand he held against her back. “No. This wasn’t what you think…”

She hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d only been acting impulsively. She’d worked so hard to overcome that impulsive nature—to act only after she’d considered all the consequences of her actions. But she hadn’t considered any consequences when she’d pulled Dr. Nick Jameson down for a kiss. She hadn’t realized how much just a brush of her mouth against his could make her want him. Need him.

“You didn’t kiss me?” he asked, pulling her back into his arms.

“It was nothing.”

Anger flared inside Nick, burning nearly as hot as his desire for her. He’d started this game, wanting to charm her sister’s whereabouts out of her. But then she’d blindsided him.

“That was nothing?” he scoffed. “Let me show you…”

A horn blared and tires squealed as a car careened past them, distracting Nick. She pulled away from his arms, her heels clicking against the sidewalk as she ran.

He would have chased her. The passion humming in his veins, the tension hardening his body, compelled him to go after her and persuade her to finish what she’d started between them with her kiss. But he didn’t have the strength to do more than watch her run away.

She hadn’t had to kiss him to start anything. The moment he’d caught sight of her he’d felt something he’d never felt for any other woman before.

Love.

Chapter Four

Love at first sight. Usually, he’d have scoffed at such a ridiculous notion. But the feeling had held tight, pressing against his chest, stealing his breath, so that he’d had not a moment’s rest all night. Recalling her kiss, her soft skin, her soulful eyes and that damned vulnerability that made him think he needed to protect her.

The coffee he’d downed at Clayton’s that morning had merely added to his tension, making him edgy. He had to get out of Cloverville. He had to get away from her. Before he did something even stupider than losing his heart. Before he lost his head.

He checked the brass address plate on the porch of the colorful Victorian farmhouse. He’d found the Kellys’ house, which was painted yellow with purple and teal trim. Through the screen door drifted the sounds of running footsteps, laughter and then the crash of something breaking. Probably something porcelain or glass. He hoped not valuable. The twins were here.

Josh hadn’t been the only one who’d dodged a bullet when his bride had stood him up at the altar, he realized. Nick had dodged his babysitting duty during the bride and groom’s honeymoon, as a result. He couldn’t believe he’d let Josh coerce him into volunteering for the job. He’d let himself be flattered to think he was the only one Josh would trust with his boys besides his parents.

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