Sweetest Mistake (Nolan Brothers #2) (33 page)

“So that’s why he married you.” Jenna’s softly spoken words seemed to scream at Emily.

The blood left Emily’s head in a sickening rush. “N-no.”

Jenna stared at her with round eyes. “How very clever of you.”

A splash of liquid slapped Jenna in the face.

“Oops, I’m sorry,” Haven purred. “It just slipped out of my hand.”

Fury flickered to life in Jenna’s eyes, and then in a flash of movement, she lunged across the table.

Chaos erupted. Haven yanked Jenna down by the hair and Jenna screamed. She kicked and flailed her arms. Kate darted from the booth.

A large body plunged into the fray. Jack clamped an arm around Haven’s waist and pulled her off Jenna.

Jenna pressed a palm to her cheek and backed away.

“Holy shit.” Jack gasped for air. “I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Haven twisted in his arms, craning her neck to look up at him. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. “I might say the same thing.”

His hold on her firm, a seductive smile pulled up one corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Hi, I’m Jack.”

“I’m Haven.” She tipped her chin in the direction Jenna had fled. “She was mean to my friend.”

Jack’s green-gold eyes swept over Emily. “Your friend is my new sister-in-law, so I thank you.”

Haven’s laugh came out on a huff of air. “Are you single, Jack?”

“As a matter of fact I am, Haven.” He reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair off her forehead.

“Are you going to let me go, Jack?”

His gaze fastened on her mouth. “No, I don’t think I will.”

Emily gaped at them. Her heart pounded in her ears, so she didn’t at first register the sound of her name being said over the restaurant’s loud speakers.

“Emily, where are you?”

Confused, she looked around even as people were turning to look at her. Over the wall of the crowd, she spotted Luke standing on the small stage near the front of the pub, a guitar strapped to his body.

“Come on up here, sweetheart.” He teased a few bars of a song on his guitar. “Let’s show these jackasses how it’s done.”

The blood left her head with a dizzying swoop.

Luke’s heart pounded its panic. He watched the color drain from her face, and with the force of a sledgehammer, realized his mistake.

He’d let his anger cloud his judgment.

Anger that his brothers thought him the kind of lowlife that’d skip out on his own wedding.

Anger that his supposed friends greeted the news of his wedding with shock and thinly veiled disbelief. Not that he’d married, but that he’d married
her
.

Then, when he watched the way they talked over her, ignored her, and finally, pushed her completely out of the way, anger had turned to cold fury.

She was miserable. He was miserable. There was only one thing to do.

Show them what he saw. What they were too blind to see. That the woman he’d married was more than all the women he’d been with before. Not only was she softhearted and smoking hot, but she was crazy talented, too.

Except she didn’t join him on stage, but stood frozen at the back of the pub, her brown eyes huge in her pale face. Jack appeared at her side.

“My beautiful wife is a little shy.” Luke’s voice carried over the sound system. “She could use a little encouragement.”

A smattering of applause rippled through the crowd. Then grew steadily louder when Emily crept forward a tiny fraction of an inch. His heart soared. He leapt down off the stage and plunged into the crowd, reaching her side in several long strides.

Her pupils had dilated to swallow all the light. He clasped his hand around hers and guided her to the stage.

He positioned her behind one of two microphones, and bringing his guitar back around, strummed the chords of a song he’d heard her singing the other day.

“You know this one, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Glassy-eyed with shock, she nodded.

He leaned away from his microphone. “Emily, look at me.”

Her brown eyes latched on to his face.

“Look only at me,” he said. “That’s my girl.”

His fingers plucked the chords of the opening notes, but her cue came and went without her singing.

He repeated the short refrain. “How about we sing this first part together?”

With a deep breath, he began to sing. Soon, she joined in. Her voice at first wobbly, it grew stronger by the end of the first verse. Together, they dropped into the chorus, and their voices mingled in harmony. The quality of the sound transcended that of either of their voices unaccompanied.

At the start of the second verse, he let his vocals drop away, and her sultry voice poured over a rapt crowd. Her heart in her voice, she sang of a love she longed for and yet feared. His heart wedged in his throat and he swallowed hard to dislodge it before rejoining her at the chorus.

They eased into the concluding refrain, his vocals echoing hers in a pattern, like lovers exchanging endearments.

As Luke strummed the last chord, she came back to herself. Applause erupted and she startled. With a soft apology, she dove off the stage and charged though the cheering crowd. He bounded into the fray after her, dodging smiling faces and oblivious congratulatory pats on the back.

The cool air smacked him in the face when he shot through the back door into the dark night.

She whirled on him. The tracks of her tears on her cheeks gutted him. “Don’t y-you ever do that to m-m-me again!”

“I won’t. I’m sorry.”

She gulped large lungfuls of air.

“Listen to them,” he said softly. “They love you.”

I love you.

The words almost slipped out. Effortlessly. Naturally.

Well, shit.

“I’ve never done anything like that before in m-my life. I think I might throw up.”

He loved her? That wasn’t part of the plan. Never, anywhere in all of this, was falling in love an acceptable part of the plan.

Her dark eyes shimmered with tears. “Are you going to make me go back in there?”

He snatched up her hand and hauled her to him. “No.” He dropped kisses on her face. “I’m so proud of you.”

She sagged against him and his hand slipped beneath the curtain of her hair. He tipped her head back and his mouth found hers for a long, slow taste. She tasted better than whiskey.

So he loved her. So what? He loved his brothers, his niece, and nephews.

He wasn’t
in
love with her. If he were
in
love, well, that’d be a disaster. Though he’d better get some barriers erected between them before the disaster became the reality.

“I can’t believe I did that.” A tiny hint of wonder crept into her tone.

“You were amazing.” Without letting her go, he started toward the parking lot.

She tugged on his arm. “Should we say good-bye?”

“Fuck ’em.”

Her watery laugh soothed his battered heart.

Tomorrow, he’d start to work on those barriers.

“C’mon, Mrs. Nolan. Time to get you home so you can fulfill your wifely duties.”

T
wo days after their wedding, she discovered Luke sitting on the back porch stoop, staring into the setting sun, and, despite the thirty-degree temperature, wearing no coat. She said his name, and he turned his head to look at her, but his blank stare lifted the hairs on her arms.

He’d smiled and followed her inside, but she soon spotted him stealing away to the library, a bottle of whiskey tucked under his arm.

That night, he didn’t come to bed, and when she searched the house for him in the morning, she found the note he’d left her explaining he’d gone to work and would be tied up there all day.

The cycle repeated itself the next day.

The next morning, she staggered out of bed at first light and headed him off at the back door.

She caught the shadow of unease that clouded his expression before he tossed up an easy smile. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

She shook her head. “Are y-you going to work?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to wrap a few things up before the long weekend. What about you? What are you up to today?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment.”

He winced. “That’s today? What time?”

“Eleven.”

The kitchen door swung open and Jared shuffled into the room in an undershirt and a pair of boxer briefs. “Oh, hey guys.”

He trudged to the counter and plucked the carafe from the coffeemaker. While the coffee flowed, he reached around to scratch one butt cheek.

A scowl deepened the lines of fatigue around Luke’s eyes.

When Jared disappeared through the kitchen door, Luke rounded on her. “Why are they still here? Shouldn’t they be gone by now?”

The two weeks Max asked for had now stretched into the third week.

“They needed a few m-more days. They’re supposed to be done by the end of the week.”

“How long does it take to get murdered by zombies?” he muttered.

“Well, once they changed the direction of the film—”

The full force of his singular attention knocked her back a step. “When did they do that?”

“Um… a couple of weeks ago, I think.”

“So they’re not making a zombie horror flick?

At the snap in his tone, a shiver of alarm ran through her. “I guess not.”

“What kind of movie are they making?”

She fumbled for words. “Some kind of dramatic romantic…”

At that, a spark lit in his eyes, but he waited for her to finish.

She gulped down the fear rising in her throat. The other day, she’d witnessed a tiny glimpse of exactly one scene. There’d been some heavy breathing, and a fair bit of talk about the brightness of Honey’s headlights before the stench of Will’s cologne sent Emily darting for the bathroom.

“This is a small town, Emily. If they’re making pornography, it will get out, and it won’t go well for you, or them.”

Shifting sea-green eyes speared her, as if he knew she lied and would will her confession with the brutal force of his gaze.

But she had nothing to confess. Yet. Max promised her he wasn’t doing anything illegal, and she’d chosen to trust him.

She just hoped he didn’t prove her wrong for doing so.

“They’re not… doing that. Max promised m-me.” Her palms grew clammy and she ran a hand down the thigh of her leggings.

She considered telling him about the scene she’d witnessed, but the lines of exhaustion bracketing his eyes and mouth convinced her to remain silent. Besides, in a couple of days, Max and the crew would be gone and none of it would matter.

Luke went on to work, but when Emily arrived at her doctor’s office a few minutes before her appointment time, she found him reclined in a chair in the waiting room. He smiled at her and her heart gave a desperate, ravenous wrench. She’d gone too long without seeing that smile.

The doctor was an affable man who quickly put Emily at ease with his upbeat manner and relaxed way of relaying facts. According to her last period, Emily was around her ninth week with an expected due date of mid to late July.

He handed over tomes of literature for her and Luke to read and then approached her with a small, handheld device. He smoothed one end of the instrument over Emily’s stomach, and a moment later, the furious echo of a heartbeat filled the room.

Listening to the light, frantic beating, laughter bubbled up, even as equal parts wonder and terror filled her. Seeking a stable point amidst her rioting emotions, she looked to Luke.

His complexion pale, his eyes appeared glazed, like glassy jewels. The mix of emotions she expected to see on his face was absent, and instead he appeared expressionless. Blank.

Their appointment ended and at her car, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll probably have to work late again.” An emptiness rode the top of his voice. “Text me if you need me.”