say he couldn’t make it.”
“Weather problems?” After the snow and ice that had hit several states this week, the extensive flight cancellations had been in the news. Meg was glad most of Lucy’s guests only had to drive from Houston.
“No, he was skiing and broke his leg showing off for a woman. I swear, he hasn’t matured since he and Grant lived in the fraternity house together. Luckily Grant’s cousin agreed to fill in as his best man,” Lucy said. “The cousin got here this morning but he hadn’t planned on wearing a tux, so we need someone to take him for a fitting. Grant and I have that couples’ spa appointment, and—”
“You go relax. I’ll get the guy to his fitting.”
Lucy flashed a grateful smile. “Maybe this best man switch will turn out to be a blessing. Grant’s cousin is much less likely to lose the rings or do something outrageous at the bachelor party. But the man’s so somber! Not the kind of guy I pictured standing with us on the happiest day of our lives.”
A knock interrupted Lucy. “That should be them now.” She opened the door and greeted her fiancé with a kiss. Then she moved aside to introduce the other man. “Meg, this is—”
“Scott?” Meg’s pulse raced, her heartbeat so loud it drowned out Lucy’s voice.
Dr. Scott Creighton was as devastatingly attractive as he’d always been, but there was a somberness in his eyes and face now, just as Lucy had described. When they’d first met three and a half years ago, Scott had been a playful hospital intern.
Though he’d been all serious intensity the night he’d told her point-blank that he planned to marry her. And she’d run the next morning.
“You two know each other?” Lucy asked.
“Y-yes.” Meg bit her lip to keep from saying more. This weekend was critical to her future, and she needed to regain control of herself before she blurted something grossly unprofessional. “Or, we did. A few years ago.”
Scott leaned against the doorjamb, his hazel eyes unreadable. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
He certainly had. His burnished gold hair, just a couple of shades darker than hers, was cut a lot closer than it had been while they’d dated. And before, he’d always had a glint in his eye, a smile nearly boyish in its charm. Now he exuded raw masculinity.
“Meg has agreed to help with your tux.” Lucy scooped up her purse. “She’ll drive you to the fitting.”
For a fraction of a second, Scott’s eyes widened, but his voice remained even. “I don’t want to impose. I can take a cab.”
The women joined the men in the hallway as Grant reminded his cousin, “You’re not in the city. Taxis aren’t exactly lined up outside the B and B.”
Meg found her voice. “The rental place is on my way—I have to run into town to see the florist.” The reminder of her duties as wedding coordinator steadied her. She sounded competent again when she told Lucy, “You and Grant enjoy the spa. And I’ll come up with something to occupy your mother later to keep her away from you. As for your orange maid of honor, text her a reminder to exfoliate and I’ll see if Mrs. Hoffman can whip up some kind of lemon-juice solution.”
The bride-to-be exhaled. “I can’t imagine my wedding day without you, Meg.”
“Funny.” Scott lowered his voice as the happy couple descended the stairs toward the coatrack. “There was a time when I would’ve said the same thing.”
Scott sat rigidly in the passenger seat, reminding himself that he was a doctor. He had mastered clinical detachment. No way in hell would he give in to the maelstrom of emotions churning inside him.
Meg cleared her throat. “About what you said on the staircase—”
“Forget it. That was just the surprise talking.”
When Grant had said they were meeting Lucy “and Meg,” Scott hadn’t thought anything of it. Meg was a common enough name…and could there be a less likely wedding coordinator than Meg Nichols? The way he remembered it, the mere mention of marriage had sent her fleeing to the nearest exit. Or maybe it was just the idea of marriage to him.
They’d met at an upscale bakery around the corner from the hospital. Meg had worked there as a pastry chef. When she’d dumped Scott—in a letter, for crying out loud—she’d almost cured his lifelong sweet tooth. To this day, he couldn’t breathe in the scent of chocolate without missing her. Which annoyed the hell out of him.
“So, uh, when did you get into town?” Meg asked, filling the strained silence.
“Drove my parents in last night. I let them borrow my car today to tour a historical museum on the other side of the county.” Otherwise, he’d have his own mode of transportation right now and wouldn’t be dependent on the only woman who’d ever broken his heart.
You’re over it, he reminded himself. Clinical detachment. That’s the ticket. He was determined not to let himself pine for someone who’d walked away without a backward glance.
Meg parked in front of the shopping center where the tuxedo rental place was located. After their tense car ride, she’d never been happier to reach a destination, including the time her parents had decided on a spur-of-the-moment fourteen-hour road trip to the Grand Canyon.
But she smiled at him and said, “This is it. Let’s get you all James Bonded.”
Scott unfastened his seat belt. “So you’re in the business of cummerbunds and seating arrangements now? I ran into your old neighbor Richie Carlisle a few months ago. He seemed to think you were training to be a police officer.”
“Private investigator.” Had Richie volunteered the update, or had Scott specifically asked about her? “I only took a couple of classes out of curiosity.” Prior to that, there’d been a brief stint as a salsa instructor. She’d lost that job when she’d socked a groping client in the shoulder.
Her lack of a career up to this point wasn’t surprising. The Nichols sisters had been raised to “follow their bliss.” Brooke, the younger sibling, was in her own way the family rebel. She’d always been cautiously conservative—perhaps too cautious. But who was Meg to criticize? She’d reached her mid-thirties with nothing to show for her life but a patchwork quilt of short-lived jobs and relationships. Her sister, on the other hand, was now happily married and the mother of a beautiful baby.
Meg had never expected her sister to ask her to be her niece’s godmother. “Please say you will, Meg. If anything were to happen to Jake and me… ““
Meg, potentially responsible for a baby? It had caused her to take a long, hard look at herself and make some changes.
Scott opened the door to the mall’s main entrance. As she passed him, she tried not to notice the heat from his body or the familiar smell of his soap.
She
