‘exactly.’” His voice was gruff.“ I’d pictured my life a little differently.”
Did he mean her and the future he’d wanted them to have? Meg’s chest tightened. They’d hit it off immediately, and their resulting affair had burned hot and quick. But their goals had ultimately been too different—or they would have been, if she’d had any clear goals.
Well, she did now. At the top of that list was making this weekend magical for Lucy while at the same time proving herself to be a competent wedding planner to the Houston socialites in attendance. Which meant she couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by Scott.
Meg reminded herself that Lucy had chosen her for good reason. Lucy came from a very wealthy family and had feared that if she had the wedding at home, her mom would have turned it into a three-ring circus of VIPs. Lucy had wanted a more intimate affair in the Hill Country, where Grant had proposed during their vacation last year. They were getting married on the first Saturday of February so that they would be in Paris—and past their jet lag—by Valentine’s Day. Très romantic.
Meg turned the corner with a sigh.
“Everything all right?” Scott asked.
“I just think Lucy and Grant are very lucky. I—” She broke off when the phone in her pants pocket began buzzing. “Better grab this. It’s from the church. Meg Nichols speaking.”
She frowned as the man on the other end launched into a string of apologies and garbled explanation. She was so startled by the news that it took her brain a moment to translate what she was hearing. “Wait! What do you mean they can’t have the wedding at the church?”
Scott watched in alarm as Meg went sheet-white. He hadn’t seen a woman look so close to fainting since his E.R. days when a young mother had brought in a five-year-old with a head wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.
Holding Meg’s elbow, he steered her toward a nearby bench. She’d disconnected the phone call, her expression stricken.
“I’m going out on a limb here—that wasn’t good news?” He tried for a joking tone, but it sounded flat. He remembered laughing all the time with Meg. She’d always been able to find the amusing and absurd in any situation, a welcome change from his occasionally grim shifts at the hospital. Now, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d really laughed. When had joking around with other people started to feel forced and unnatural? With kids, he could still tap into just enough silliness to calm their fears, but that was more bedside manner than an indication of who he really was.
“The church cancelled,” Meg said woodenly. “I can’t believe this! The weather finally warmed up a couple of degrees and now the pipes burst?”
“Sometimes the worst damage comes when frozen pipes start to thaw,” he told her. “Places around here, where freezes are rare, aren’t as prepared as facilities up north.”
She blinked. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive about the damage to the church and the cleanup they’re facing, but Lucy’s wedding is the day after tomorrow! What am I going to do? She’s already a nervous wreck. How am I supposed to tell her this on top of everything else?”
Scott sat next to her. In another lifetime, he would have put his arm around her, pulled her into a comforting embrace. The temptation was there, but…getting that close to Meg, letting her past the wall of cool reserve that protected him? It would be like those frozen pipes that had started to thaw and then crack: disaster. She’d hurt him once. Only a fool would risk becoming emotionally vulnerable to her again.
“You’re really taking this hard,” he observed, at a loss for what to say.
“It’s my job!”
“Your latest job.”
Color came back to her cheeks as she glared at him, brown eyes flashing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You do have a history of bailing when things get difficult, Meg.” The anger that washed through him caught him off guard. He hadn’t planned to get personal. But maybe he needed this closure, since the way she’d left him—and subsequently dodged his calls—hadn’t allowed him to properly say goodbye. She’d even quit the bakery, effectively disappearing from his life. “Are you sure you’re going to stick around and help Lucy through this? Wouldn’t it be easier just to wash your hands of the whole mess and leave her a note wishing her well?”
“I would never do that!”
His gaze clashed with hers, challenging.
Meg ducked her head, blushing with guilt even as she insisted, “Lucy can count on me.”
“Then you were right earlier. She is lucky.” He got to his feet. “A lot luckier than I was.”
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