The Best Man's Bride (13 page)

Abby laughed. “That’ll make him love me.” She snorted again. “Like that would ever happen.”

Colleen’s heart warmed. Abby loved Clayton, too—she was just scared that he’d never love her back. Colleen understood that fear well. “It won’t if you take off.”

“I don’t want Clayton to…” She couldn’t finish her protest.

“Abby, you’re falling for Clayton.” She clasped Abby’s hand, so that she stopped packing. “That’s wonderful.”

“It’s impossible. We hate each other.”

“You know what they say about the fine line,” Colleen teased. “Can you tell me that you really hate him?”

“No. But I wish I did.”

“I understand.” She wished she could hate Nick.

“I have to leave, Colleen.”

She empathized. Part of her—the old impulsive part—wanted to run, too; to escape her feelings for Nick. But she’d accepted long ago that Cloverville was her home, and she had no intention of leaving her family or her friends. She had no intention of letting Abby leave, either. If she couldn’t have her happily ever after, she’d make sure Abby finally got hers.

“Y
OU’RE LEAVING,” REMARKED
a male voice.

Nick turned from tossing stuff inside his duffel bag to glance over his shoulder at the man leaning against the door. His host wasn’t particularly upset over losing his houseguest. In fact, he looked relieved.

As relieved as a man that tense could look, with his jaw clenched and his eyes ablaze with emotion. “You okay?” Nick asked him.

Clayton sighed. “Yeah, Colleen just told me something.”

Nick closed his eyes, preparing himself for the beating he undoubtedly deserved.

“How could I have been so blind?” Clayton mused, his voice thick with self-recrimination.

Nick wondered that himself. Apparently everyone else had noticed his interest in Clayton’s little sister. “I don’t know what to say,” he admitted. He had no excuse for taking advantage of Colleen.

Clayton laughed. “Of course you don’t. You probably don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.”

Nick opened his eyes and studied the oldest McClintock sibling. “You’re talking about Colleen.”

“And Abby,” Clayton added with a ragged sigh.

Nick nodded as realization dawned. “She told you about the colonel.”

“You knew?”

He shrugged. “Small towns.”

“Everyone knew but me?”

“No. Colleen told me,” he admitted. “I think she’d gotten tired of carrying around her secret—and the guilt.”

“She shouldn’t have felt guilty.”

“No, she shouldn’t have. Is she okay?” Nick had to know. He’d always been aware how much Colleen’s family meant to her. It couldn’t have been easy for her to tell her older brother about her youthful indiscretion.

Clayton nodded. “She’s not really happy with me right now, though.”

“Maybe you need to start giving her more responsibility around here,” he suggested. “You must realize how smart she is. And strong.” Stronger than he was.

“I do now. I wish she would have told me then,” her brother said, his voice tinged with regret, “but I probably wouldn’t have believed her. Or even listened to the poor girl in the first place.”

“You feel guilty.” Nick recognized the emotion he, too, had lived with for so long—until Colleen had made him see he couldn’t have changed anything about the past. Bruce wouldn’t have listened to him; he’d always seen Nick as a kid.

“I already apologized to Colleen,” Clayton said, “but I owe someone else a huge apology.”

Amusement lifted Nick’s lips. “Abby.”

“I was the one carrying the torch when the angry mob ran her out of town.” Clayton obviously exaggerated.

Nick laughed at the picture the other man had painted. “I don’t think it was quite like that. From what I’ve heard, she’d always intended to leave anyway.”

Clayton sighed. “Yeah, she’d made it clear she hated living here.” He gestured toward Nick’s bag. “So you’re leaving?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Clayton heaved a sigh of relief.

Nick laughed. “Obviously, I’ve taken advantage of your hospitality.”

“It’s not that,” Clayton explained. “I asked Abby to come over. I need to offer her an apology that’s eight years too late.”

Nick suspected the other man would give Abby Hamilton more than an apology. The poor bastard was obviously in love. Grabbing up his haphazardly packed duffel bag, Nick joined Clayton near the door and extended his hand. “I wish you luck, man.”

Clayton shook his hand. “Thanks. We’re talking about Abby here, so I know damned well that I’m going to need it.”

Nick stepped into the hall and headed toward the door, but Clayton’s question stopped him.

“What about you, Nick?”

Nick turned back and asked, “What about me?”

“Did you find what you need in Cloverville?” Clayton shook his head, as if answering his own question. “Of course you didn’t. You wouldn’t be leaving if you had.”

Actually, he was leaving because he
had.
He didn’t want to need anyone the way he needed Colleen—the way his brother had needed his wife. She’d betrayed him. She’d stopped loving him.

Colleen had said she didn’t love Nick yet, but he knew she could. She could stop loving him, too. And Nick knew, like his brother, he wouldn’t survive a broken heart.

“I thought I might find you here.”

Colleen brushed away the tears that were streaming from her eyes before she turned away from the colonel to face Nick. “You know what they say about always returning to the scene of the crime.”

He shook his head. “I thought you’d agreed to give yourself a break.”

She forced a smile. “I did. I have. But I just told Clayton the truth.” And she’d been overwhelmed by all the emotions, guilt, regret and, finally, relief. It was over. Everyone knew now.

“I just talked to him,” Nick said, grasping the handle of the duffel bag he carried. “He was getting ready to apologize to Abby for having misjudged her.”

“Good.” Satisfaction joined the relief. “It’s a long-overdue apology.”

“He seemed really anxious to talk to her.”

Her lips curved into a smile. She’d put pressure on Clayton to convince Abby to stay in Cloverville. “Maybe I’m more like my mom than I thought.”

His forehead furrowed as he obviously tried to follow her change of subject. But he’d probably rather talk about anything other than the reason he carried the duffel bag stuffed with his belongings, so he asked, “How are you like your mother?”

“I’m playing matchmaker,” she explained.

“You don’t seem the type to meddle.”

“I’m not,” she agreed then laughed. “I’m usually too self-involved to worry about other people’s lives.”

“Right,” he said, his voice tinged with irony. “That’s why you volunteer in the pediatric cancer ward.”

“I do that because I’m trying to land a rich doctor,” she told him with an exaggerated wink.

“Colleen!”

“That’s what you want to believe,” she said.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I want to, but you’re messing that up. You’re messing
me
up, Colleen.”

“Is that why you’re leaving?” Even if she hadn’t noticed his bag, she would have known he’d come to say goodbye. The word was there in his serious green eyes, on his unsmiling lips.

“Yes.”

She flinched over the ache in her heart. “Thanks for not lying to me.”

“I never lied to you,” he promised.

She lifted a brow, skeptical. “Not even when you were trying to charm Molly’s whereabouts out of me?”

“Every word I said was true,” he insisted. Nick had tried to convince himself he was only seeing her to con her sister’s whereabouts out of her. But he’d been looking for any reason to see more of her, to spend more time with her. What a fool he’d been. Or maybe he was the bigger fool now that he’d decided to leave.

She nodded. “Sure, every word you said…”

“You are so beautiful.”

If that were all she was, Nick would have no problem walking away and leaving her behind. But she was so much more. Caring, smart, generous…Sensitive.

Eyes narrowed, she studied him. “I believe you mean that.”

She believed he meant it, but not that she actually was beautiful. He dropped the heavy bag to reach for her, cupping her face in his palms. He ran his thumbs along the line of her cheekbones, her jaw, then across her full, sexy lips. “Believe that you are.”

“I will.” Her breath whispered across his skin.

He had to kiss her. One last time. He touched his mouth to hers, melting into the softness and heat. She tasted so sweet, like peaches and cream.

Her fingers grasped his shirt, pulling him closer as she stretched her arms over his shoulders. “Nick…”

She knew it. He heard it in her voice. The resignation. The acceptance. This would be their last time together.

“Colleen, I want you.” He slid his hand to her shoulders, the bones delicate beneath the cotton blouse she wore with shorts that left her long, sexy legs bare.

She smiled as she said, “So, take me.”

He laughed at her audacity. She never failed to surprise him. How could anyone have ignored her—how had he ignored her? “In the middle of a public park?”

“We almost made love here once before,” she reminded him.

He couldn’t believe how quickly he’d fallen for her, how badly he’d wanted her that day. And today, he wanted her even more. That was why he had to leave—before he got in any deeper. Before he found himself unable to live without her.

She slid her hands from his shoulders to the nape of his neck, kneading the tense muscles before pulling him down for another kiss. “If not here, where?” she murmured the question against his lips.

He grasped her hips, pulling her tight against his aching body. “I was thinking about a hotel.”

She kissed him again, her lips clinging, her tongue slipping inside to tease. Breathing hard, she reminded him, “There are no hotels in Cloverville.”

“What about Grand Rapids?”

What about taking her home with him? No, he couldn’t. He didn’t want her in that part of his life. And if he brought her to his condo he’d see her in every room, forever feel her in his bed. In his arms.

“There are hotels there,” she agreed, teasingly misunderstanding his question, “but we’ll both come to our senses during the drive. We’ll realize that we should have just shaken hands and said goodbye.”

He shifted his hips against her, so that she’d feel the erection straining against the fly of his jeans. So she’d know he was about to lose his head again for wanting her.

“I don’t want to shake hands with you.” Nothing so impersonal—like strangers meeting at a wedding might do. They hadn’t been strangers since the moment they’d met. “I need to touch you.” To bury himself inside her, to lose himself in her heat and passion…Just one more time.

“We’ll go back in the woods—so you won’t have to worry about the colonel or anyone else interrupting us.”

He wouldn’t miss this odd little town. Sure he’d have to come back, take some appointments at the office in order to hold up his end of the partnership with Josh. But he’d stay on the side of town where he’d insisted they build, where there were only new developments. He would avoid the park and all the busybodies who gossiped on Main Street. He wouldn’t want to hear about Colleen if he wasn’t going to let himself see her again.

Still he had to know. “Why hasn’t the town ever had him properly fixed?” He was a welder’s son, and he could see that someone had only haphazardly soldered together the colonel’s broken joints.

Colleen lifted her delicate shoulders in a shrug. “Mr. Carpenter was mayor for quite a while, and he didn’t like spending money on anything. Do you really want to talk about the colonel?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want to talk at all.”

Her hand traveled down his arm until she linked their fingers. Then she tugged him toward the woods.

“You’re not running,” he mused as he followed her down an overgrown trail to a small clearing. But this was where she used to come, he’d bet, when she’d run away from home. Even if they’d looked, nobody would have been able to find her—not this deep in the woods. No one would interrupt them.

Her voice hushed, she murmured, “No, I’m not the one running away.”

He
was. They both knew that, too. “Colleen, I wish…”

She rose up on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. She didn’t want to hear wishes she knew he had no intention of fulfilling. But that was okay. She’d resigned herself to taking what he could give her, and if it was only this—mind-blowing pleasure—she’d take that and be grateful.

His hands moved down her back, over the curve of her butt to the backs of her thighs, and now his fingers played with the hem of her shorts. He teased her with fleeting touches.

She wanted his hands—everywhere. She leaned back, grasping his T-shirt in her hands. Then she dragged the shirt over his head, exposing his muscular chest to her hungry gaze. She slid her mouth over him, teasing his small nipples until they hardened. When she flicked her tongue over them, his breath hissed out, stirring her hair.

He slid his hands into her shorts, under her panties and over the curve of her bare backside. “You have on too many clothes,” he complained.

He quickly remedied that situation, unsnapping and pulling down her denim shorts and then slipping off her panties. Then he reached for the buttons on her blouse. Colleen let him undress her, let him take his time, brushing her skin with his knuckles, tasting each exposed inch with his mouth.

Her knees weakened and trembled, so she locked her arms around his waist and held on. She wanted to hold on to him forever. But he didn’t want that. And, truthfully, neither did she. It was better that this was their last time and that they were saying goodbye. Then she wouldn’t risk falling any harder. Better to lose him now than in the way her mother had lost her father, after years of loving each other.

His hair, so silky soft, brushed against her breasts as he lowered his head. His lips closed over a nipple and he tugged gently. Pleasure flowed throughout Colleen, and she moaned. But his mouth wasn’t enough. She had to have all of him.

She reached for his jeans, unzipping them and pushing them down so she could touch him, could stroke her fingers over the hard length of him.

He groaned against her breast. “You’re driving me crazy…”

She tangled her fingers in his silky hair and tugged his head up, then sealed her mouth to his, plunging her tongue through his lips, tasting him. He was dark, rich and somewhat bitter, like espresso. And like espresso, he had her pulse racing, her heart skipping beats.

His fingers slid inside her, teasing her as she’d just teased him. Instead of biting her lip to hold in a moan, she bit his lips, then stroked her tongue over the nip she’d inflicted.

“You’re bad,” he said without complaint, closing his eyes and groaning as she stroked her hand up and down the length of his erection.

She shook her head. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Then she replaced her fingers with her lips, taking him deep inside her mouth as she knelt in front of him.

“Colleen!” he shouted her name, and as he did, birds rustled the tree limbs overhead before escaping with a flap of their wings to open sky.

Wasn’t he doing the same thing? Escaping?

Colleen wanted to make it hard for him to forget her. But his fingers grasped her arms, pulling her to her feet. Then his mouth was everywhere. At her throat. Her breasts. He dropped to his knees in the middle of the field, and he put his mouth against her.

Sensations slammed through her. Pleasure so intense she shuddered as it coursed through her body. She tangled her fingers in his hair again, first clutching him against her and then pulling him away.

He caught her, dragging her down with him onto the grass and weeds. Then he was inside her, buried so deep inside that she knew, no matter if she never saw him again, he would always be a part of her. She clutched him, her nails digging into his shoulders and her heels pressed against the back of his thighs as she rose to match his frantic thrusts.

They climaxed together, moaning each other’s names. Colleen’s throat burned with the intensity of her cry—of her pleasure. Of the loss she already felt, even though he was still inside her.

His face against her throat, he murmured, “Are you okay?”

She could only nod.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No…” If he’d made her feel any better, she’d be dead.

“No twigs digging into your back?”

She shook her head and then cleared her throat. “I think we could be lying in poison ivy, though.”

His chest vibrated against her breasts as he laughed. “We’re going to need shots.”

“Just what you want to hear after making love.”

“Colleen…”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’ve never been allergic to poison ivy.” And growing up in Cloverville, she’d been around enough of it. When she’d run away, she’d often come to this clearing and lain in the grass.

Nick eased back and leaned his forehead against hers. His pale green eyes held more remorse than poison ivy required. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” She cupped his face in her hands and kissed his lips. “I don’t regret what we did—either the other day or now.”

“Seriously, Colleen, you have no regrets?”

She shook her head.

“Are you sure?” he persisted.

Her breath hitched, as she admitted, “I had a crush on you.”

“Had?” His lips lifted in a grin even as a muscle twitched in his jaw. “Did I crush your crush?”

She shook her head. “No. I think I’ve outgrown crushes. My first crush was on Eric South.” She emitted a wistful sigh.

“Eric South?”

If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think his voice had roughened with jealousy when he’d repeated the name. “He’s a really good friend, more Molly’s than mine. If he’d agreed, I’m sure Molly would have asked him to be her maid of honor or had him as her best man.”

“I don’t remember meeting him at the wedding. But since they were so close, he must have been there.”

She shook her head. “He was supposed to be one of the groomsmen, but he backed out.”

“So if your sister ran to someone, she’d run to him?”

She shrugged. “I thought that you didn’t care anymore where my sister is.”

“I don’t,” he insisted. “For some reason I’m more interested in your old crushes.”

“Like I said, I outgrew the one on Eric. Then there was…” Even now, all these years later, her face heated when she said his name. “Jimmy Hendrix.”

“The musician? Aren’t you a little young…”

She shook her head. “The quarterback. And bad boy.” Older brother to the bad boys Rory had hung around with, until either she or Abby had gotten through to him. “Irresistible combination.” But she wished she had resisted him.

“He’s the one who hurt your pride?”

She nodded. “So I got over my crush on him. And now I’ve outgrown my crush on you.”

“Colleen…”

“Don’t worry. I don’t love you,” she assured him. She’d disclosed one secret only to keep another. But she’d tell no one of her love for Dr. Nick Jameson. There was no point in loving him. Except pain.

Pain flashed through Nick, pressing on his heart. He wanted her love? He didn’t deserve it, and he’d done nothing to earn it. “I’m sorry,” he said again. Sorry that she didn’t love him, even though it was better that she didn’t. For her. He didn’t want her running into anything ever again.

“I told you. It’s okay,” she assured him. “You can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t.”