Valentine Babies (Holiday Babies Series)

Chapter One

“Go now. And smile for heaven’s sake,” the wedding
coordinator sputtered against Roxanne’s ear. “It’s your sister’s happiest day.”

The
Mendelssohn
Wedding March chimed through the Cathedral of Christ the King
in Lexington, Kentucky.

Roxanne Ramsay plastered a wide smile on her face and
clutched her poinsettia bouquet to stop the trembling of her hands. God only
knew how happy she was for Madelyn and Nick.

But why did she have to receive that horrible email
yesterday? Two days before Christmas. Last night, she’d claimed to suffer a
twenty-four hour bug to avoid the church rehearsal and dinner. Honestly, she
didn’t have to fake stomach cramps. Her guts had twisted the moment she read
and re-read the missive announcing Nabil’s death. Alone in her room in the big
empty house, she’d cried her heart out.

A new bout of tears invaded her eyes. She blinked furiously
and shuffled forward. Had the aisle lengthened all of a sudden? Gliding on the
white carpet, she thought she’d already covered a mile. Behind her, the four
bridesmaids progressed at the same snail’s pace.

Finally Roxanne reached the altar and sidled to the left.
The fresh pine scent of the Christmas trees decorating the church mingled with
the sweet fragrance of white roses in two vases adorning the altar. A
delightful smell. Her stomach heaved.

Oh God, no
. She braced herself and swallowed. The
nausea passed.

Two of her sisters took the one-year-old flower girls Nick
was holding in his arms and sat them next to their grandmother, and then the
bridesmaids lined up beside Roxanne. They all turned to watch the bride advance
toward her groom.

The ushers and bridesmaids smiled as Nick took Madelyn’s
hand. Roxanne’s face hurt from the effort of stretching her lips. In the first
row, Mom sniffled and wiped her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. Could the sister
of the bride cry as freely without attracting attention?

Why should she smile? There was no groom and no happy ending
in her future.

When they all faced the altar, she allowed herself a few
tears. Nabil’s handsome face popped into her mind. Afraid she’d burst into a
torrent of sobs, she bit hard on the inside of her cheek.

“Since when were you such a mushy one? You’re crying even
more than Mom,” her sister Heather mumbled in her ear.

“Sorry. It’s a... a special moment.” She exhaled and almost
hiccupped.
Please, God, help me stop crying.

“Still people are wondering,” Heather muttered in the same
hushed tone.

“What people? We’re facing the altar. Father O’Brien is too
busy reading his holy words.”

“The man standing next to Nick’s dad’s wheelchair hasn’t
stopped staring at you.”

Roxanne’s head spun to the right. That gorgeous groomsman in
a black tux and neatly combed brown hair?

His hazel eyes captured her gaze. She hadn’t attended last
night’s rehearsal and hadn’t met Nick’s friends. His frown relaxed and he
smiled. She tried to avert her eyes, and then threw another glance in his
direction. He winked.

Her nerves already a shambles, she burst out laughing and
caught his silent chuckle.

The bridesmaids gasped. Even Madelyn cast her a stunned
look.

“What is wrong with you?” Heather chastised.

“The rings, please,” the priest said. He waited for an
instant, surveyed the bridal party, and scowled at each of the ten members.
None of them responded. “St. Anthony, help us. Who has the rings?”

The dashing groomsman was still staring at Roxanne and
grinning.

“Greg?” Nick grunted. “Where are the rings?”

“Oh, sorry. Here.” Greg extracted the rings from his pocket
and handed them to the priest. Turning toward the bride and groom, Greg kept
her in his line of vision, but assumed a more serious expression.

“You may kiss the bride.” Father O’Brien exhaled and
finished the ceremony

Roxanne lowered her head.
No more kisses for you. Never
again
. A few tears escaped her.

Beside her, Heather hissed and handed her a tissue. Roxanne
wiped her eyes and caught Greg’s gaze. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Astonishment
puckered his forehead. He raised an eyebrow, silently questioning her. She
turned to admire the newlyweds. Finally, Nick released his bride after an
endless and nerve-racking kiss.

Time for congratulations. Roxanne inhaled, forced a weak
smile, and threw her arms around Madelyn’s neck. “Sweetie, I’m so happy for
you.” She sniffled again. “So happy,” she mumbled between tears.

“Thank you, Roxy. And here I thought you were the
cool-headed one among us. The unflappable globe-trotting reporter who runs
around the world.” Madelyn patted her cheek. “If you cry that much at a
wedding, what will you do at a funeral, you softie?”

“Fu...funeral? Oh no.” Roxanne swallowed a sob. She wouldn’t
even attend
his
funeral.

“Mrs. Preston, my darling, let’s go.” Nick grabbed his
wife’s arm. Hand in hand, they sauntered down the aisle toward the door of the
church and waited to receive the guests’ congratulations.

Thank God, it was over. The nightmare was over.
I mean
the wedding.

“It’s almost over. You can stop crying.” Greg scooted next
to her and arched a quizzical eyebrow. He pulled a tissue from his pocket and
handed it to her.

“It was only a couple of tears.” Carefully, she dabbed the
wet spots on her face and raised her head for his evaluation. “I hope I don’t
look awful. My makeup?”

“Makeup is stable.” He grinned widely. “You look lovely.” He
tucked her hand under his arm and they proceeded down the aisle. Behind them,
the cortege of bridesmaids and ushers followed. “By the way, I am Greg Hayes. I
work with Nick at St. Lucy’s hospital, in Fort Lauderdale. And you are Roxanne,
right? The sister who was sick last night.”

He was doing his best to cheer her up. Nice guy. And so
striking. Green specks twinkled in his hazel eyes. “Stomach bug.” She patted
her belly.

“Are you feeling better today?”

“Oh yes.”

“So why were you crying so much?”

“Emotion. I’m so happy for my sister and Nick. ” She
sniffled and eased out of his hold, now that they’d reached the door.

A moment later, the coordinator called them for pictures.
They regrouped in front of the altar.

“Bride and groom first.” The photographer shot picture after
picture. “Now the families. Bride and groom. His dad on his right.” He checked
the camera. “Great. Now the bride’s family.” They moved Roxanne next to her
mother, first, then next to the bride. Her eyes focused on the camera, and then
behind, on the second row where Greg sat, an ambiguous smile on his lips.

Darn, couldn’t he stop watching her?

“Now, the bridal party. Ladies on one side, gentlemen on the
other.” More pictures. “Now, each bridesmaid with her usher.”

Greg immediately obliged and wrapped an arm around Roxanne’s
waist. The warmth of his hand seeped though the velvety material of her dress.

“Hey.” She fidgeted to free herself of his hold. He wouldn’t
budge. She grabbed his wrist and moved it away. “Dr. Hayes, put your hand in
your pocket if your fingers itch.”

He laughed. “I was obeying the photographer’s order. Look at
the other couples. Each usher is holding a bridesmaid against him.”

She didn’t need to glance at the other couples. “Of course.
Heather and Sandra are with their husbands; Claire and Tiffany are with their
fiancés.” Furious, she pinched her lips at his blank look. He probably thought
that poor Roxanne had no one.

He gave her a wry look. “I was told during the rehearsal
dinner that I was your date for tonight.”

“My...what?”

He shrugged. “You were not there, so obviously they talked a
lot about you.”

“Gossiped you mean.”

“Whatever.” He surveyed the guests. “Do you have someone in
mind?”

“No,” she snapped.

He smiled. “So?”

“Please, stand up straight, you two there,” the photographer
barked. “I’ve wasted five pictures so far.”

“May I?” Greg arched an eyebrow.

“Oh what the heck. Go ahead. Put your arm back.” She willed
herself not to feel the heat.

Guilt speared her. How on earth could she feel any kind of
attraction to this man when she was mourning another? A simple arm around her
waist shouldn’t be a big deal. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t hugged or flirted
with colleagues in the past. Her lips twitched into a grimace.

“For heaven’s sake, Roxy, smile,” Heather admonished. “The
photographer is glaring at you. We’re going to be here all night.”

“Che-ee-se,” she grumbled, showing her teeth as if she was
at the dentist.

“Great,” the photographer declared. “We’re done.”

Drat, when would this night be over?

 ****

Greg saw the two women in burgundy exit the restroom of the
Marriott Hotel chosen for the wedding reception. He hesitated. The blonde one
turned and held the brunette’s shoulders. “Roxy, wait.”

From the minute he’d seen Roxanne proceed along the aisle of
the church, he hadn’t stopped thinking of her, seeking her. Her exquisite face
with greenish blue eyes, delicate features, and full lips had left an indelible
imprint in his mind. He wanted to know her better. Maybe take her out.

 “I’ve never seen you like that. Bad news? How can I
help?” the blonde woman said.

Afraid to intrude, Greg backed up into a shadowy corner of
the corridor.

“No one can, Tiffany. It’s too late.” The sadness of
Roxanne’s statement froze him in his tracks. He needed to know why this lovely
young woman was suffering.

“At least, share with me.”

“Tomorrow, I promise. We can’t ruin Madelyn’s wedding
reception.”

“No, we can’t. Are you going to be able to say your toast?”

“Yes. If I cry, they’ll think it’s emotion.”

The young women hugged each other.

Greg swore he would distract Roxanne. Maybe she’d forget her
pain if she danced and chatted and laughed. He waited until they reached the
hall and meandered toward her. “Here’s my gorgeous date.”

Putting on a show, he wrapped his arm about her waist and
twirled her around, hoping to amuse her. She lost her balance and fell toward
him. He held her against his chest. The wedding guests laughed.
Darn, wrong
approach
.

“Are you crazy?” Her eyes opened, big and blue, and fuming
with anger. “Release me this instant.”

He stared into the turquoise pools. “You’re beautiful. Even
when you’re mad.” His gaze glided over her pert nose and pinched lips. His head
slowly lowered.

“Don’t you dare kiss me,” she grumbled as her eyes narrowed
to a thin slit and her fist connected with his stomach.

“Ouch.” He sobered and released her. “Is that how you treat
the men who pay you a compliment?”

“Look, I’m in no mood for jokes.” She strode toward the
ladies room again and he rushed behind her.

“Roxanne, I’m sorry. I really am.” He caught up with her. “I
was trying to make you laugh. Look, last night, your family told me what a fun
adventurous girl you were. Tonight I saw a deeply distressed person. I just met
you a moment ago, so I don’t have the right to ask questions. For your sister
and your family’s sake, you can’t afford to collapse. No matter what troubles
you. Let me help and distract you.”