Life isn’t always what you expect it to be...
Conor roused himself from his thoughts and smiled down at the woman who had always been like a favorite aunt to him. “I don’t know my future plans yet, Leslie. For right now, though, they’re in Kansas City.”
Ron seemed to sense the dark turn of Conor’s thoughts and pulled his wife back to his side. “Les, dear, we’re holding up the line. The rest of our guests are waiting.” He shook Conor’s hand again. “Come by the house anytime. There’s still a gate in the fence connecting our backyards. The walkway is a little snow-packed this time of year, but it’s still there.”
“Thanks. I’ll stop by before I leave town.”
Still raw from that trip down memory lane, Conor wasn’t prepared for Lisa stepping out of line to hug him. For a moment, he stood there in shock. Another second gave him time to remember the way her tall frame fit against his body, like two pieces of a puzzle joining together. A third, saner moment reminded him to pat her back instead of squeezing her tightly, and then push her away. She wasn’t his to hold anymore.
“Congratulations, kiddo. You’re a beautiful bride. But then, I never had any doubt you would be.”
“Con—”
“Take the compliment.” He cut her off before she could turn his words into any kind of apology.
“Thank you.”
Dismissing Lisa to move on down the reception line, he reached out to take Joe’s hand and pulled his friend in for a back-slapping bro hug. “Congratulations, man. You dress up pretty good for a numbers geek.”
Joe grinned. “I can be taught.”
But his intent to move past the bride and groom to greet Joe’s parents was thwarted by the tug of Lisa’s hand on his. “Are you happy, Con? Please be happy.”
“Why is everyone so worried about my happiness?” he joked. “This is your day. We’re here to celebrate you two.”
Lisa’s gaze darted to Joe, then back up to Conor. “We never meant for our engagement to hurt you. But I know it did. Losing your mom and then running away...” Her grip on his fingers tightened. “We’ve been so worried. You don’t call. You don’t write. Don’t throw away your life here because of us.”
Conor pulled his hand from hers. He schooled the irritation out of his tone. “Guess what? I didn’t run away from anything. I went where the job took me. Remember? The job I’m obsessed with?” He immediately bit down on that snap of sarcasm and apologized. He was over this. He was over her. But being back in Arlington was stirring up painful memories. “You should be thinking about your honeymoon, not me. If you two aren’t happy together the rest of your lives, I’m gonna come back and kick both your butts.”
“No worries, man,” Joe assured him, looking relieved to hear the teasing.
“Thank you. You’re just so important to both of us.” Lisa’s next hug was a little too long and a little too uncomfortable. When he heard the telltale sniffle against his lapel, he leaned back, automatically pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket for her.
But Joe had pulled one out, too. He tucked his into Lisa’s hand, kissed her cheek and suggested she take a break to powder her nose.
“Sorry about that,” Conor apologized, balling his handkerchief into his fist. “That’s just the way my mama raised me.”
Joe nodded, looking not at all threatened by any old habits Conor might have that involved his new wife. “Heard you took up drinking.”
One bender the night Lisa had dumped him, and suddenly he was an alcoholic. Conor shook his head. “Is that the rumor?” He nodded toward the doorway where Lisa had slipped out of the reception. “No wonder she’s so worried about me. I swear my only vice is coffee. Strong and black.”
Joe laughed, reminding Conor of the camaraderie they’d once shared. “That’ll eat a hole in your stomach.”
“Standard hazard of the job.”
“I also heard you left the Marshals Service.” Joe pulled back the front of his tuxedo to slide his hands into his pockets. “Does that mean you’ve found someone to settle down with in Kansas City?”
Even the accountant wasn’t above interrogating him. “I’m still a cop.”
“So that’s a no.” Joe’s deceptively casual stance never changed. “It never was a competition between us. You know that, right? I would never move in on your woman. I didn’t ask Lisa out until you two were done.”
His breakup with Lisa didn’t seem to bother Conor as much as it seemed to bother everyone else. But this big ol’ pity party, expressing all this concern for his welfare, was rubbing on his last nerve. “No hard feelings, Joe. Just take good care of her. And make sure she takes good care of you.”
“I will.” Joe extended his hand. His grip felt firm and familiar. “Take care of yourself, too.”
Conor congratulated Joe’s parents and then backed out of the line, turning toward the main reception area.
“Con?” He glanced back to see Lisa hurrying to Joe’s side. Her makeup was all neatly in place again as she called after him. “Save a dance for me, okay?”
Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen. Thankfully, the other guests moving through the reception line demanded the bride and groom’s attention. He wondered just how long he had to stay before anyone else accused him of falling apart or running away.
Longer than Conor had planned, apparently. When one of his mother’s former bridge-playing friends linked her arm through his and invited him to join her and her husband at their table, he resigned himself to at least staying through dinner. But several old friends of his mother’s were at the table, too, and all their efforts to “help him” soured the taste of the prime rib and mashed potatoes he’d taken from the buffet.
“How long are you going to be in town?” Mrs. Martin, one of his mom’s friends, asked as he picked at his cake. “My niece just had her heart broken by a boy she’s been dating since high school. I think you two might have a lot in common.”
Conor set down his fork as the sweet icing curdled in his stomach. Now their concern had graduated to fixing him up with other women? “I won’t be in town that long.”
“I could give you her number for when you come back.”
Once he sold his mother’s house, he wasn’t coming back. “Sorry to hear that she’s unhappy. But no, thank you.” Conor pushed his chair away from the table. “Would you excuse me?” Conor eyed the patterns of foot traffic around the reception hall, taking note of the easiest route to an exit door. Maybe he could get a cup of coffee to go?
And then he spotted one of those sparkly feathered hair clips moving through the chairs and round tables, momentarily diverting him from thoughts of escape. Short, brown hair. Caramel highlights. Cotton candy-pink dress hugging womanly curves he shouldn’t be noticing.
Laura Karr.
When she moved past a table where the guests were
