My Best Friend's Bride (15 page)

Hunter grinned broadly. “Excellent idea. Great time for spring cleaning.”

“But it’s, um…June.”

“First day of summer’s not here yet,” Hunter reminded him. He strode to the kitchen and returned with some empty grocery bags. “I’ve already packed for the move, and my honeymoon gear goes in there,” he said indicating the duffle bag on the bed. “Everything else is going out!”

“Everything?”

Hunter walked to the hall closet and pulled a couple of squash rackets from a high shelf, tossing them in a bag. “There’s a reason I didn’t pack lots of these items,” he said with a wink. “And most of those reasons are female.”

Brad checked his watch. “Better hurry, then, you don’t have much time.”

“It won’t take long to shed the ‘unwanted,’” Hunter answered. “Say, would you mind dropping a few bags off for me at the shelter?”

“I’d be glad to.” Brad glanced around the Spartan apartment, which now had a bare-bones appearance. “I guess it’s good you’re keeping this place for the year.”

“Doesn’t make sense to rent it,” Hunter said. “Might as well have it for when I need to return. Besides, you never know when married life might get too tough, and I might need a little getaway.”

“Just be sure any ‘getaways’ you plan don’t happen on Cassandra’s watch.”

“I know to be careful.”

Hunter went through a few more items in the hall closet, then pulled the old rowing machine from under the bed.
 

“Whose was that?” Brad asked him.

“It was Patti’s.”

“The one who used to crew in college?”

“Your memory seems to be better than mine.” The truth was, images of those old girlfriends were kind of fading. It was hard to remember any of their faces clearly. Even Sabrina’s parting scowl was a fuzzy blur. Maybe that’s because they’d all been replaced by the look in Jill’s eyes as she’d taken his hands and pledged to be his. She’d been so convincing, at one moment in time Hunter had almost believed her affection for him was real. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Jill was no more capable of authentically caring for him than he was of loving her back. Hunter’s grades in the relationship department weren’t A-plus. In fact, he probably needed remedial training. But where did you go for that when there was no raw material to work with?

Something burned in his chest, and Hunter chided himself for his self-pity. Better to move forward and pretend to be the man Jill acted like she wanted him to be. Hunter could do anything when he set his mind to it, even living purely platonically with Jill Jamison. She’d declined changing her surname, because—after all—changing it back after a year would be extra trouble. No one would question a professional woman keeping her name in today’s society. Though Hunter couldn’t help thinking Jill Delaney had a better ring to it, he’d never say so to Jill, nor to Brad. Some cards were better played close to the vest, and this was a very long hand Hunter was in for. The better practiced he became at maintaining his poker face, the better off he’d be in the end. No point in letting his guard down and admitting to Jill he was actually starting to like her. It was only a little bit, anyway. Nothing serious at all. He had a reasonable respect for her, which was a great way to start off a marriage. Ideal, actually.

“Can you fit it in your car?” Hunter asked Brad, indicating the rowing machine.

“I’ve got a hatchback.”

Hunter hoisted the bulky piece of equipment off the floor and carted it to the front door, while Brad lifted a few bulging paper bags into his arms and followed him. “It’s good to see you making a fresh start.”

“Brad, my friend,” Hunter said sagely. “There’s no better time for a man to reassess his future than on his wedding day.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jill took a sip of her Bloody Mary and stared out the airplane window. She and Hunter were in business class seats and the economy passengers were still boarding. Hunter hadn’t spared any expense in planning this trip. “You really didn’t have to pay for the upgrade,” she said turning to face him. “In fact, you didn’t have to plan a honeymoon at all.”

“I know. I considered that. Only, I thought it might prove a bit of a letdown.” His attractive mouth puckered in a frown, and Jill tried not to recall the feel of his lips pressed to hers. Hunter spoke with a whisper. “After such a fabulous wedding.”

Jill caught the glint of a wedding band on Hunter’s hand. He was obviously going through with it, keeping up appearances completely. “Besides,” he added good-humoredly, “it was my turn.”

“What do you mean?”

“I bought the lunch, you got the coffee…” He gestured casually like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You bought two first-class tickets to Niagara Falls,” she completed for him.

“Business class,” he corrected with a smile.

“It’s all the same these—”

“We’ll be taking off in a few minutes,” a polished flight attendant interrupted. “Would either of you like another drink?”

Hunter stared down at his bourbon on the rocks and quipped to Jill, “We probably should have ordered champagne.”

“Oh?” the flight attendant said with interest, balancing on high-heeled boots. “Are we celebrating anything in particular?”

“Only our wedding.” Hunter beamed at her brightly and latched onto Jill’s hand. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

Jill squirmed and grimaced imperceptibly, she hoped, belatedly smiling at the flight attendant, who now eyed them both in a dreamy fashion. “Newlyweds!” she proclaimed. “Congratulations! This does call for bubbly! Absolutely!” She cleared their cups, which weren’t quite empty, and scurried back to the cabin as other passengers pivoted in their direction. Soon people were offering heartfelt congratulations and men were leaning over airline seats and across the narrow aisle to shake Hunter’s hand. Once the commotion subsided, the hostess returned with two plastic cups and a split of champagne. “On the captain,” she said, smiling prettily. “He’s a newlywed himself!”

Jill caught an enormous diamond sparkling on the flight attendant’s finger and accidentally wondered aloud, “Are you…? Oh my goodness, I’m sorry. That’s really none of my business.”

“That’s all right, hon.” The flight attendant’s cheeks colored brightly. “Nothing wrong with guessing the truth.”

“Well, congratulations to you!” Hunter said pleasantly, toasting her with his glass in the air.
 

“Yes! Congrats!” Jill added quickly.

The flight attendant nodded and backed away, preparing to deliver her predeparture demonstration. “You two enjoy your flight now, and—please—let me know if there’s anything that you need.”

As they taxied to the runway, Jill pulled back her hand. “You can let go now,” she said under her breath. “Nobody’s watching.”

Hunter glanced at her innocently. “I’d nearly forgotten I was holding on.”

“Comes that naturally to you, does it?” she couldn’t help but say.

“What?”

Jill looked him in the eye. “Getting what you want.”

“Probably about as naturally as it does to you,” he retorted.

“Touché.” Jill sat back in her seat and closed her eyes, thinking this was going to be a long trip. What was she going to do with Hunter during all that time? Clearly not go ballroom dancing or to cabaret shows as her grandpa suggested. Or gambling either. Jill wasn’t even sure if they had gambling in Niagara Falls. Perhaps her grandfather was mixing up Niagara Falls with Las Vegas.

Jill kept her eyes shut as the plane took off, lifting weightily into the air with roaring engines. She never had liked takeoffs or landings, though the flying part in between was all right. When Jill opened her eyes again, she found Hunter observing her.

“Oh,” he said suddenly, pretending to read the airline magazine in his hand. “I thought you were sleeping.”

“No,” she answered. “Just thinking, that’s all.”

“I was thinking too,” he told her, “about what good friends we have. It was really nice of Morgan to stay at your house and look after the pets, and really super of Brad to agree to meet and supervise the movers.”

“Especially so last-minute,” Jill reinforced.

“Yes.”

“I wish Morgan would meet someone,” Jill said with a sigh. “She’s such a nice person. Very talented at her job as well.”

“There aren’t a lot of literary types in Sugar Hollow.” He considered this a moment. “Or in Parkland either, come to think of it. I guess you and Morgan kind of stand out.”

“That’s because we both got good enough at our jobs to work from anywhere.”

“I can see why you’d want to be in Sugar Hollow. You grew up and have family there. But what about Morgan?”

“She wanted to move some place far from men.”

“Really?” Hunter asked with interest. He closed the magazine and tucked it in the pocket of the seat in front on him. “Then it seems she moved to the right place. I don’t think there are more than ten single guys in Sugar Hollow—over the age of eighteen and under the age of eighty.”

Jill laughed because she knew it was true. That was one of the things she liked about the small town: its quaintness. That, and the fact that everybody seemed to know everybody else.

“I guess she got burned pretty badly?” Hunter ventured.

“You might say that,” Jill answered. Then she shrugged. “But, you know, it’s really her business, so I’d rather not talk too much about it.”

“Of course.” Hunter reached for the champagne bottle between them and offered to refill their cups. Jill didn’t see any harm in accepting. Neither of them was driving anywhere for a while, and two cups of sparkling wine weren’t enough to do her in. “At least I don’t have to worry about Brad,” Hunter said, handing Jill her cup.

“No,” Jill agreed. “He’s spoken for.”

“I’m sure Susan is relieved by how everything worked out.”

“No doubt.”

Hunter raised his glass in the air. “I think we should have a toast.”

“What should we drink to?”

“How about we drink to new beginnings?” Hunter grinned and—darn it—Jill’s pulse fluttered. “Not too long ago, you hated me.”

“I never hated you, Hunter.”

“Okay. Disapproved of me, then.”

She dropped her chin to hide her blush. “Was it that obvious?”

“Oh, yeah.” Then, to her surprise, he chuckled. “Starting with when you tossed that corsage back in my face.”

“That was years ago.”

“I guess you took some time to get over it.” He met her eyes and Jill’s heart stilled. “Are you, Jill?” he asked hoarsely. “Over it? I was only a kid, you know.”

“You were a grown man when you kissed me at the club.”

His warm laugh rumbled. “So, we’re on to that now?” He perused her cautiously. “Was it…that you didn’t like it?”

Jill’s face fired hot. “I…no! I mean, I don’t know. It’s not that I—”

He leaned toward her and she felt the brush of his breath against her cheek. “Because to tell you the truth, it sure seemed like you were into it to me.”

Jill set her jaw. “You’re a good kisser, okay? Fabulous!” A few heads swiveled her way and Jill realized with horror she’d spoken too loudly.

“It’s okay,” Hunter assured her with a whisper. “They all think we’re married.”

Jill daintily cleared her throat. “The point I’m making is this…”

Hunter’s rugged face hovered another inch closer and Jill lost her train of thought. He sexily cocked an eyebrow, his mouth just a hairsbreadth away. “Yes?”

She withdrew against her seat and took a swallow of champagne. “I’ve forgotten.”

“Splendid,” Hunter said, tapping his cup to hers. “Then that’s what we’ll drink to, letting bygones be bygones.
And
to new beginnings.”

“Okay,” she said evenly. It had taken everything she had to get her wits about her. What had gone on with Hunter just then? She’d totally lost her bearings. “Under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

She lowered her voice so the other passengers wouldn’t hear. “That you tell me you booked us separate rooms in Niagara Falls.”

“Why, Jilly!” He drew a hand to his heart and spoke with an exaggerated edge. “You’ve cut me to the quick. Of course, I did, darling. What kind of beast do you think I am?”

Jill lifted her cup toward his. “To letting bygones be bygones,” she said reluctantly.

“And?” he prompted with a too-easy grin.

“To new beginnings,” Jill said crisply before downing her champagne. But the real thing she looked forward to was getting to her very own room in the hotel and having some downtime. Maybe taking long soak in the bath. What a day this had been. What a rare mood she was in, and no, it wasn’t exactly like being in love.

Chapter Fifteen

Cassandra perched behind a camellia bush with the camera that was outfitted with a telephoto lens. According to her mole at the moving company, the movers were supposed to arrive at Hunter’s at eight. Apparently, they’d gotten there an hour early, because the truck was already loaded up and preparing to go. As lovely as the impromptu wedding had been, something about it had seemed a little…staged. Cassandra didn’t know why she felt that in her gut, but she did, and her gut was seldom wrong. Except for that time she thought it wanted that double-jalapeño carnitas taco from the food truck. That had been a colossal mistake and had cost her two days of work. There was movement in the brush ahead of her and Cassandra thought she spied plaid. What a horrific pattern! Who on earth would wear that assortment of colors, and in summer of all seasons? It was practically summer, anyway, but the burnt oranges, browns, and reds spelled fall.

Suddenly, a figure turned in her direction and she found herself facing broad lapels. “Excuse me?” a gruff voice queried. “Just what are you doing?” Cassandra raised her chin to find bulging blue eyes peering down at her through the foliage.

He was wearing tan corduroys—again, wrong for the season—and a strange tweed cap and horn-rimmed glasses. In his hands, he held a digital camera. “I might ask you the same thing!” Cassandra cried, taken aback. “Who on earth are you?”

“Mauve Peterson,” he said mildly.
Mauve?
People actually named their children Mauve? No wonder the guy had fashion issues. He was named after a color that couldn’t decide if it wanted to be gray or purple. “And you are?”