Wedding Date with the Best Man. Melissa Mcclone
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“You don’t have to look. Someone will find you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Tristan sounded so…romantic—a way she’d never heard him sound in the short time she’d known him. He’d always seemed so unfriendly, almost arrogant, back then.
“You won’t have to do anything,” he added.
Her heart melted a little. That sure would be nice.
Thanks to what had happened to her best friends in Las Vegas, Jayne knew Mr. Right finding her could happen. And she really did want it to happen one of these days.
Ever since she was a little girl Jayne had wanted the fairytale to come true. She was over the heartbreak Rich had caused, but she wanted to focus on work and getting her life back in order first. Her heart had fooled her. She didn’t want to be duped again.
“I hope that happens someday.” She emphasized the final word. “Just because things with Rich didn’t work out doesn’t mean I can’t live happily ever after here in San Diego with my one true love.”
“If that’s what you want, go for it.”
She thought about her and her mother’s dream. “Isn’t that what everybody wants?”
Tristan set his iced tea on the table. “Not me.”
Okay, so maybe the guy wasn’t so romantic after all. She shouldn’t be surprised, given his long-time friendship with Rich. A true romantic wouldn’t condone a cheater’s behavior. “That sounds a little…bitter.”
“Not bitter, just experienced.” He stared at his glass. “I gave marriage a try. It didn’t work out.”
She leaned toward him. “You were married?”
He nodded. “You sound surprised.”
“I am,” she blurted. He was attractive enough to have his pick of female companionship, yet had chosen to settle down. She wondered what kind of woman had made him want to say I do. No doubt a gorgeous model or actress-type, with a killer body. “I mean, you don’t seem like the marrying kind.”
“I realized I’m not, but I tried to make it work.”
Yeah, right. That was what all men said, but actions spoke louder than words. If only she’d realized that with the first man in her life…her father.
Her dad had done nothing to make things work with her mother. Jayne still remembered hearing her parents’ yelling late at night when she’d be in bed. Still, she’d never thought he’d leave one day and never contact her again. “Let me guess—you were misunderstood?”
Tristan laughed. “No, she understood me quite well. I take full responsibility for the failure of my marriage.”
His words touched Jayne. Her father had never admitted failure. He’d blamed all their problems on her mother. God rest her soul. “That must be a hard thing to admit.”
“I’m just being honest.”
“I appreciate that,” she said. “As you said, honesty is a rare quality these days.”
One she hadn’t expected from Tristan MacGregor.
“Have you been married before?” he asked.
“No, my parents were divorced, so I told myself to make sure it was right first and not rush into anything.”
“Until Rich.”
She nodded. “I didn’t follow my own advice with him, and rushed in with my eyes full of stars, but I won’t do that again.”
Jayne looked at the table. Only crumbs remained on the cookie plate. Her glass was empty. Tristan’s was only a quarter full. By now he should see she was fine and be able to reassure Grace. Nothing left to do but say goodbye. Except…
He didn’t seem in any hurry to finish his iced tea and leave.
“Anything else you want to know so you can tell Grace?” Jayne asked, trying to move him along. “I hate keeping you here.”
“You’re not keeping me.” His gaze took in the knickknacks on the bookcase and the framed photographs on the fireplace mantel. “It’s nice be in a house. I just got back from two months in Malaysia and Bali.”
Two months? That would have included last month…December. “You were overseas for Christmas?”
He nodded. “You can celebrate Christmas anywhere.”
But it wasn’t the same as being home. Not that Christmas alone here had been all that great. Still, she’d had a small tree and presents sent by her friends—including a filled stocking.
“I can’t imagine being on the go so much.” Just the thought gave Jayne the heebie-jeebies. She rubbed her arms. “Away for weeks or months at a time. I get tired thinking about it.”
“I get more tired when I’m not traveling,” he admitted. “If I’m in one place too long I get antsy.”
She’d heard that so many times. “My father was like that.”
“What about you?”
“I take after my mother,” Jayne said with pride. “I traveled so much when I was younger there’s no place I want to go now. I’m pretty much a homebody.”
Tristan’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t seem like a homebody.”
“You just don’t know me that well. Growing up, I was always bugging my parents for a house with a yard and a puppy.”
“You want a dog?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “My former roommate had a dog. I walk my neighbor’s dog most evenings. But I’m still debating whether this place needs a pet or not.”
“It’s a nice place.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I lucked out getting to live here.”
“How’s that?” Tristan asked.
“Well, I’d given notice on my studio apartment to move in with Rich after the wedding, so I found myself homeless after he—I mean we—broke up. My friend Molly had a spare bedroom and told me to move in with her. It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but she fell in love with a man she met during a girls’ weekend in Las Vegas, married him a few months later, and relocated to Sin City. And that’s how I ended up with this charming bungalow to call home.”
“You did luck out.”
Jayne nodded. “Though I liked having Molly for a roommie. I miss talking to her late at night over a pint of Ben &