oblivious, Gage forced a smile. “Hi. Bride’s side or groom’s side?”
He’d like to know who the hell the guy was here for. But he had a sick feeling that he already knew. It had to be for the bride.
But why? Because of Woodrow?
Or because of him?
Keeping the grin plastered on his face, he studied the stranger. The guy’s hair was nearly shaved, just stubble showing on his skull. He could have been military. But what army? And more importantly, what side?
“Are you an usher?” the guy asked. His thin lips curved into a faint, mocking grin. “I thought you were the best man.”
Did he know Gage? And how? Had they met on opposite sides of the law or a battlefield?
He could have been a supporter of the group that had taken him. He and the other gunmen could have been determined to carry out what the others had begun. For some reason his captors had thought he’d had information they’d wanted. But no matter how badly they’d tortured him, he hadn’t been able to tell them what they’d wanted to learn.
That didn’t mean they’d given up, though. He resisted the urge to reach for his weapon and drop the guy. For one, he didn’t know if he would be fast enough, and for two, he didn’t know where the other armed people were.
“It’s a small wedding,” Gage replied. “We’re all pulling double duty.”
The guy nodded as if he believed him. But he doubted he’d taken him at his word any more than his captors had.
“So which side?” he asked again. “Bride or groom?”
He shrugged. “I’m the plus one, just waiting for my wife. She went to the restroom.”
With her big purse with her heavy gun inside? Gage hoped like hell that was really where she was. The guy had answered easily, as if he were speaking the truth.
Some people believed their own lies. Like the little FBI agent who nervously glanced back at him...
Tucker had believed the lies he’d spread. Maybe that was why Megan had believed them so easily as well.
But if she’d trusted Gage, if she’d loved him like she’d once claimed she had, she never would have doubted him. Like Gage doubted this guy.
“Well, I hope your wife returns quickly,” Gage said. “The wedding will be starting soon.”
The guy arched a brow as if skeptical of Gage’s claim. “Really?” he mused. “I’ve never known a wedding to start on time. Usually brides take longer to get ready than they plan for, especially if they’re nervous.”
How did this guy know that Megan was nervous? Because he was giving her every reason to be?
“You must have never attended a wedding here,” Gage said. “Mrs. Payne’s events always start on time. She has a way of quelling every fear of even the most nervous bride.” Or at least that was what he’d been told. But knowing Penny, he didn’t doubt it.
It was clear she had her doubts, though. She and Woodrow stepped into the vestibule from the basement stairwell. His arm was around her waist, as if he’d had to help her up the steps. But her body was stiff—not trembling—and she pulled away from him. Penny was proud and tough. She had raised her kids alone and had survived her fears over all their brushes with death.
And he knew they’d had many just since he’d met them.
“Well, if you won’t let me usher you to a seat, I better assume my best man duties and check on the groom,” Gage said.
“That’s who should be nervous,” the man remarked beneath his breath.
Gage turned back. “What? Why would you say that?”
The guy shrugged again, and a small, mocking grin curved his thin lips. Gage didn’t recognize the man but he recognized the look: condescension. Like he thought Gage was an idiot because he didn’t know what he knew.
What the hell did he know?
The guy shrugged again. “In my experience the guy always has more reason to be nervous when he’s getting married, especially when the best man keeps going into the bride’s dressing room.”
Innuendo joined the condescension now. The man’s dark eyes gleamed.
Anger coursed through Gage, making him tense. He didn’t give a damn that the guy was armed and had armed friends. He stepped closer to him.
But then a small hand gripped his forearm. “Gage, you need to make sure Richard is ready. The ceremony will be starting soon.”
His stomach lurched at the thought of that actually happening, of Megan actually marrying her old boyfriend. But Richard wasn’t her old boyfriend anymore.
Gage was.
He stepped back and turned to Penny, who was smiling at him. But unlike all the times she had before, the smile didn’t warm her brown eyes, didn’t dispel the fear widening them.
“Hurry up,” she urged him.
But then his stomach lurched for another reason, at the thought of leaving her alone with an obviously dangerous man.
“Go,” she said and her tone brooked no argument. She was stubborn.
And he knew better than to argue with a stubborn woman. Annalise—his sister—had taught him that. So he turned and headed down the aisle toward the front of the church. The groom’s dressing room was behind the altar. Sun shone through the stained glass windows, sending a kaleidoscope of colors dancing around the room with its sparkling marble floor and whitewashed oak pews.
It really was a beautiful chapel—a beautiful venue for a wedding. Too bad there would be no wedding today. He only hoped there would be no funeral, either.
* * *
Penny lifted her chin and stared into the stranger’s cold eyes. She was good at pretending to be brave when she was actually quavering with fear. When her husband had died in the line of duty, she’d had to pretend to her kids that she was fine, that she wasn’t scared of raising them alone. That she had everything under control when she’d actually had no idea how she was going to manage.
“Well, you’re obviously the one running the show,” the man replied.
She wished that were true—then her daughter wouldn’t be intent on using herself as a decoy. And her bride would be marrying the man she really loved, the one who was so stubborn he was probably going to get himself killed. That was why she’d intervened. She’d seen the anger course through Gage. She’d worried that he was about to lose more than his temper.
She tilted her head. “Show?”
He gestured around the chapel. “The wedding. This is your place, right? You’re Penny Payne.”
She held out her hand, proud when it didn’t tremble. “Nice to meet you...?”
“D,”
