Cat eyed him with feigned astonishment as they turned the corner into the mess hall. “Yo,” he said. “Am I hearing you correctly? You actually knew other girls besides Jenny Lee Beaumont in Hatboro Creek? I thought the sun rose and set with Jenny Lee, and all other girls were rendered invisible by her magnificent shine.”
Blue staunchly ignored Cat’s teasing tone. “Lucy wasn’t a girl,” he said, pouring black, steaming coffee into a paper cup. “She was just…a kid.”
“Maybe you should look her up while you’re back in South Carolina for the wedding.”
Blue shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Cat took a mug from the rack, regarding Blue speculatively. “You sure you want to go to this wedding?” he asked. “You know, I can arrange for Alpha Squad to be part of some vital training mission if you need an excuse not to be there.”
“It’s my brother’s wedding.”
“Gerry’s your stepbrother,” Cat noted, “and he happens to be marrying Jenny Lee, your high-school sweetheart and the only woman I’ve ever heard you talk about—with the exception now of this Lucy Tait.”
Blue took a swallow of the coffee. It was strong and hot and it burned all the way down. “I told him I’d be his best man.”
Joe Cat’s teeth were clenched as he gazed at Blue. The muscle worked in his jaw. “He shouldn’t have asked you for that,” he said. “He wants you there, giving him your stamp of approval, so he can stop feeling guilty about stealing Jenny Lee from you.”
Blue crumpled up his empty paper cup, then tossed it into the garbage. “He didn’t steal her,” he said. “She was in love with him right from the start.”
CHAPTER 1
It was going to be the wedding of the year—shoot, it was going to be the wedding of the decade. And Lucy Tait was going to be there.
Oh, not that she’d be invited. No, Lucy wasn’t going to get one of those fancy, gold-lettered invitations printed on heavy, cream-colored stock, no way. She was going to this wedding as a hired hand—first to keep the traffic moving outside Hatboro Creek’s posh country club and then to stand inside the ballroom, guarding the pile of expensive wedding gifts.
Lucy adjusted the collar of her police uniform as she cruised Main Street in her patrol car, searching for a parking spot near Bobby Joe’s Grill.
Not that she’d expected to be invited to Jenny Lee Beaumont’s nuptials. She’d never run with that crowd, not even back in high school. But man, back then, back when Lucy was a scrawny freshman and blond, beautiful homecoming queen Jenny Lee had been a senior, Lucy had desperately wanted to join Jenny’s exclusive club.
She would never have admitted it. The same way she would never have admitted the reason she wanted so desperately to be close to Jenny Lee—namely, Blue McCoy.
Blue McCoy.
Rumor had it he was coming back to town for his stepbrother’s wedding.
Blue McCoy.
With dark blond hair and dark blue eyes that burned with an intensity that made her heart stand still, Blue McCoy had haunted all of Lucy’s adolescent dreams. He was the hero of her teenaged years—a loner, quiet, dark and dangerous, capable of just about anything.
Including winning beautiful Jenny Lee Beaumont’s heart.
Except Jenny Lee wasn’t going to marry Blue McCoy on Saturday afternoon. She was marrying his stepbrother, Gerry. He was two years older than Blue, with a quicksilver smile, movie-star good looks and a happy-go-lucky attitude. Some people might have found Gerry the more attractive of the McCoy boys.
Apparently Jenny Lee had.
Lucy found a parking place a block down from the Grill and turned off the patrol car’s powerful engine. On second thought, she turned the key again and pushed the buttons to raise the power windows. The summer sky looked threatening. Lucy was willing to bet it was going to pour before she finished her lunch.
She checked to make sure her sidearm was secured in her belt holster as she hurried down the sidewalk. She was already ten minutes late, and her friend Sarah’s self-imposed work schedule didn’t allow her to take more than a hour for lunch.
The Grill was crowded, as usual, but Sarah was saving a table. Lucy slid into the booth, across from her friend.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
Sarah just smiled. “I would have ordered lunch,” she said. “But Iris hasn’t worked her way around to this part of the room.”
Lucy leaned back against the plastic cushion of the bench seat. She let out a burst of air that lifted her bangs up off her forehead. “I haven’t stopped running since 7 a.m.” She eyed her friend. Sarah looked tired and hot, her dark hair pulled back from her face in a ponytail, dark circles under her hazel eyes. “How are you?”
“I’m nine months pregnant with a child that has obviously decided not to be born until he’s old enough to vote,” Sarah said dryly. “It’s ninety-seven degrees in the shade, my back hurts when I lie down, my sciatic nerve acts up when I sit, I have a review deadline that I can’t possibly make because I’ve spent the past three days cooking instead of writing, my husband has been home from his shift at the hospital four hours in the past forty-eight, my mother-in-law calls every five minutes to see if my water has broken, I miss living in Boston and this is the first chance I’ve had in nearly a week to complain.”
Lucy grinned. “Then don’t stop now.”
“No, no, I’m done,” Sarah said, fanning herself with her napkin.
“Afternoon, ladies.” Iris took her pen from behind her ear and held it poised over her ordering pad. “What can I get you today?”
“I’d like some marzipan,” Sarah said.
Iris sighed good-naturedly, pushing a stray red curl back up into her bun. “Honey, I told you before, if it’s not on the menu…”
“I need some marzipan,” Sarah said almost desperately. “Almond paste. Or maybe a piece of my mother’s fruitcake. I haven’t been able to think about anything else for days….”
“We’ll both take a turkey club,” Lucy said smoothly, “on whole wheat, mustard, no mayo, extra pickles.”
“Sorry, hon,” Iris murmured to Sarah as she moved on to the next table.
“My life,” Sarah intoned dramatically, “is an endless string of disappointments.”
Lucy had to laugh. “You’re married to the nicest guy in town, you’re about to have a baby, you just won a prize for your music and you’re disappointed?”
Sarah leaned forward. “I’m insanely jealous of you,” she said. “You still have a waistline. You can see your feet without craning your neck. You—” She broke off, staring across the room toward the door. “Don’t look now, but I think we’re being invaded.”
Lucy
