her exhale a weary sigh and for the first time noticed the fatigue clear in the depths of her dark eyes. The heavy-lidded eyes and puffy lips he’d attributed to a sort of exotic beauty were in fact signs of a bone-deep weariness, which made him feel like a complete heel. She had been sound asleep in the middle of the day for a good reason apparently. He, on the other hand, had no good reason for handling things as poorly as he had.
Christy took a wobbling step forward and placed a hand on Kate’s arm. “Listen, I know your heart was in the right place,” she said gently, “but you shouldn’t have interfered. I’m really sorry. I’m sure you two can patch this up when you get back from your honeymoon.” She rubbed Kate’s arm, surprising Trevor with her sincerity considering her own treatment today. “You have a man in there who loves you and wants to marry you,” she went on. “That’s what this day is all about. There will be time later to sort the rest out. Trust me.”
Kate sniffled. “You think she’ll forgive me?”
Christy nodded confidently and gave her a little nudge, almost falling over when Kate smiled and moved away from her toward the door to the chapel at the same moment.
Trevor’s quick reflexes saved Christy from diving facefirst into Kate’s train.
“I’m really sorry about the misunderstanding,” Kate called out over her shoulder.
Christy just waved her off, her smile evaporating as soon as she turned to face Trevor. “Shouldn’t you be inside helping your buddy get married?” She eyed his hand on her arm, then looked up at him.
“That was nice, what you just did for her. She didn’t deserve the kindness and neither do I. But I’d like to try and—”
“Listen, save the apologies until after the ceremony. You can grovel when you drive me home on your way to the reception, okay?”
Trevor didn’t know whether to laugh or swear. She’d handled this a lot better than most women would, and though he felt like a total ass and planned to tell her so, he suddenly found himself in no hurry to leave her. “Where will you be?”
She smiled dryly. “Leaning on whatever wall you prop me up against.”
“Maybe I can find you something more suitable to wear?”
The organ music paused, then made them both jump as it suddenly resumed with the thundering opening strains of the bridal march. “No time for that. Get in there and do your thing. I’ll be fine.”
Trevor felt even worse that she was being such a good sport about this. She must have read his mind, because her smile brought back those feline comparisons…the ones with bared teeth and claws.
“However, if you come back to find me sleeping standing up, it’s on your head if you wake me again. And you already have quite enough on your head at the moment, if you know what I mean. I hope you grovel as well as you kidnap.”
“I’ve never had to grovel before, but I’m sure I’ll come up with something.” He helped her away from the throng of bridesmaids queuing up to go inside the chapel, over to a far corner, away from the front door, as well. “Are you sure—”
“I’m sure,” she cut in, eyes already drooping shut.
“What if you took off the shoes? Would that—”
“They’re strapped on. Just go,” she said, not bothering to open her eyes.
He should. He knew that. But he really didn’t want to. “Christy—”
“Please,” she ordered.
He had no idea where the impulse came from, or why he gave in to it. God knew his impulses had already caused enough problems today. And he’d thought civilian life would be easier! But he was already reaching for the loose tendrils of hair that clung to her cheeks and pushing them back.
Her eyes flew open at the feel of his fingers brushing against her cheek. “What are you doing?”
He grinned then and enjoyed the way her pupils shot wide and her throat worked. “Wishing we’d met under just about any other circumstances.” Before she could say anything to make him regret that little announcement, he gave her a sharp salute. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” And headed down the side hallway toward the altar door.
3
CHRISTY TRIED to doze, but she couldn’t get those blue eyes out of her mind. Why did he have to go and touch her like that anyway? Despite what her hormones thought, she was really fully prepared to not like the guy. After what he’d put her through, how hard should that be?
She squirmed and shifted her weight what little she could without tipping over. This dress was a pain to be sure, but the heels were instruments of torture that would make the Marquis de Sade weep with pleasure. She, on the other hand, just wanted to weep. She wished now she’d agreed to let—She realized she didn’t even know his name!
The organ came to life again, making her wince. But it was only when the chapel doors were pushed wide to allow the newly married couple to emerge that she thought about exactly what would happen next. The bridesmaids and groomsmen would follow…and then every single person in the church would come out behind them. Right past her. In this dress.
She looked frantically around for some sort of camouflage, but knew one step would send her sprawling. Why hadn’t she thought this through before letting whatever his name was leave her here, propped against the wall like some party favor blow-up doll? Maybe he’d realize it and as soon as he came through the door with the maid of honor—Except there was no maid of honor. So she had no idea where he was in the ensemble at this point.
Kate and Mike emerged through the doors just then in a cloud of white chiffon and flowers. They only had eyes for each other, and even as Christy did her best to become one with the wall, she couldn’t ignore the lump that rose in her throat. She was happy for them, just as she’d been happy for Vivian three years before.
And look where that had ended up, her inner voice mocked. She only hoped Mike had the fortitude to put up with Kate. God, did she sound like a cynical old maid or what? She wasn’t that bad, was she? She was only twenty-eight for heaven’s sake. Hardly over the hill. How can you ever marry if you never date? Her mother’s oft-repeated words echoed inside her head. She’d never paid attention to them, knowing her mother would only go from wanting weddings to wanting grandbabies, and she was in no hurry to do either.
But she was twenty-eight. With thirty on the horizon. And no prospects. The bridesmaids started out the door and Christy shrank even farther back, knowing the assembled guests were next, praying they’d keep their eyes straight ahead. She didn’t want prospects, she told herself. She had a demanding job she loved and if someone came along who demanded her attention in the same way, fine. But that hadn’t happened. So what if logic dictated she had to actually be looking in order to meet someone? She certainly wasn’t going to hunt down a guy just because all her friends were getting married.
They were also getting divorced, she reminded herself. Well, Vivian had anyway. And if there had ever been a couple who seemed meant for one another, it was those two. And yet, there they were, miserable and alone. Why should she be in any hurry to become another statistic?
She was actually doing the wise thing, focusing on her own life, her
