Читать книгу Just Say Yes! - Leanna Wilson, Leanna Wilson - Страница 10

NEVER IN HIS WILDEST imaginings had Grant ever thought he’d utter the words I do. He prided himself on being the practical brother, the responsible one. Why did this seem like the dumbest mistake he’d ever made? This was something Griffin would do. And Grant would have been the one to sit back, shake his head and laugh at his younger-by-two-minutes twin.

His mind tripped over the phrase “Kiss your bride.” She wasn’t his. And he certainly didn’t want a bride. But hell, what was he supposed to do? Ignore the time-honored tradition? He had to kiss her.

Remembering all too well the passion her first kiss had fired inside him, he made a conscious decision to make this kiss brief and chaste. There wasn’t a rule book on wedding kisses that said it had to be deeply intimate or even very long. Any old kiss would do. Wouldn’t it?

Cupping her jaw, feeling her tremble beneath his touch, he wondered what she was thinking. Was she remembering their first kiss, too? Or was she wishing he was Griffin? And that she was truly married?

He felt awkward as a schoolboy about to kiss his first girl. But this time he had an audience. What did they expect? Something tender and sweet? Bells and whistles? Firecrackers?

Then he remembered that Annie wanted to impress the socks off her hometown crowd. She wanted them to think she was good and married, forever and ever, amen. All thoughts of a chaste kiss evaporated.

His gaze shifted toward Annie’s pink mouth. He noticed the generous curve along the bottom lip, the bowlike shape of the top, and his focus narrowed, blocking out the chapel full of witnesses, erasing every thought but one: He wanted to kiss Annie again.

That frightening thought made a bead of sweat trickle down his spine. Ignoring the pounding of his heart and the warning bells in his head, he leaned forward, took her shoulders between his hands and slanted his mouth across hers. He felt her melt into him, her bones turning pliable, her back arching toward him. He deepened the kiss, tasted her warmth, her passion. Something inside him shifted, a powerful need gripped him.

What the hell was he doing?

And what was Annie doing? Just making a show? Or was she believing this? Was she loco? Did she believe they were really and truly married?

Panic arced through him and he pulled away. A roar sounded in his ears. He tried to give himself a mental shake to clear the cobwebs she’d caused. Then he realized the crowd behind them was cheering.

“Hey, Griffin!” Eric—who’d stepped in to be the best man when Grant had told the groomsmen it had all been a practical joke and that his twin from New York had missed his flight—clapped him on the back. “Save your energy for the honeymoon.”

Grant cringed at being called his brother’s name but swallowed his irritation and tried to look like the exuberant bridegroom.

John, the next groomsman in line, gave a sheepish grin. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Sure did fool us before the wedding, pretending to be your brother and calling off the wedding,” Peter, the last groomsman, mumbled and slanted his gaze toward Annie. “Who wouldn’t want to go on a honeymoon with that babe?”

Grant’s spine stiffened. “Are you referring to my wife?”

“Uh, yeah, uh, I mean…what isn’t there to love about Annie?”

“That’s better.” Satisfied, Grant wrapped his arm around Annie’s waist. Why did he feel so protective of this woman? Maybe because his brother had treated her like a bad blind date.

By the time all the pictures were taken, Grant had a headache from the camera flashes. It had to be the lights, not that Annie’s hand was linked with his and her warm body pressed against his side.

“This way, Griffin!” Eric called, leading the wedding party to the reception. “Make way, folks, for the bride and groom.”

Being called his brother’s name made Grant’s cummerbund feel constricting. Instead of gritting his teeth and giving his usual response that he wasn’t his brother, he let it pass and managed a tight smile.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of repetitious words of congratulations. Had everyone in this entire town turned out for the event? The receiving line looked long enough to wrap around a city block. He told himself that putting up with the charade was the least he could do for Annie and promised himself Griffin would suffer someday soon.

Sticking out his hand, he greeted the next guest. “Thanks for coming.”

The man pumped Grant’s hand like an oil rig. “Good to know you. Henry Norton. Grew up here with Annie’s papa. Smoked a cigar with Ralph Baxter—God rest his soul—the day she was born.”

Grant smiled at the image of Annie’s father celebrating the birth of his daughter. He wondered what she’d looked like as a baby, if there’d been even a hint of the beauty that he saw now. “Grant Ste—”

Annie dug her fingers into his arm.

He froze. Good God! What had he done?

Then Annie laughed. “Oh, Griff! What a card you are. But you’re starting to bore us with that old joke, pretending to be your twin brother.”

“Old habit,” he managed to say.

The older gentleman eyed him carefully then gave a quick nod and moved on down the line.

By the time they’d cut the cake, Annie’s smile had congealed. He kept close to her side, hoping she’d point out anyone in the throng of guests that he was supposed to know so she’d cover any of his gaffes. After a while, he realized Griffin had been a phantom fiancé. Most folks here thought Annie had just made him up out of thin air.

If only they knew the truth!

“Well, sugar—” the Pepto-Bismol lady approached and embraced Annie “—you’re a married woman. Your mama can rest in her grave now.”

Grant noticed a tear well at the corner of Annie’s eye but she blinked it away. He reached for her hand and gave a gentle squeeze. Annie met his gaze, and her mouth curved in a tremulous smile. His chest tightened with a strange set of emotions that he couldn’t decipher.

“And you, young fellow!” The bleached blonde snapped her arms around him like a banker’s clip. “Don’t let word get back to Annie’s aunt Maudie that you done her wrong. You hear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ending her hug with a loud clap to his back, she gave him a jab in the ribs with her elbow and looped arms with the bride and groom. “Now, let me give y’all the recipe for honeymoon salad.”

“Aunt Maudie…” Annie began.

“Listen up, sugar. I should know about these things. I’ve been married almost more times than there are days of the week. For the perfect honeymoon salad, there’s no dressing required.” She tipped back her head and roared with laughter.

Annie’s cheeks turned a bright pink that matched her aunt’s dress. Grant felt a cord of desire yank tight inside him. Too bad there wouldn’t be a honeymoon for Annie and him.

What the hell was he thinking?

“Here comes the champagne,” Aunt Maudie announced. “And not too soon.”

First she handed a flute to both the bride and groom then reached for her own. Tapping a gaudy ring on the crystal, she gained the attention of the crowd that circled them like eager vultures. Grant wondered what they’d do if they knew the truth, if they learned that his brother had stood Annie up and that he himself would be dumping her at the airport. Would they tar and feather him and ride him out of town on a rail? From the look of a group of ranchers eyeing him closely, he wouldn’t put it past them.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Aunt Maudie said, lifting her voice above the din. “To my beautiful niece. May you two live and love like there is no tomorrow. And may the smile that starts on your wedding night never fade.”

Looping his arm around Annie’s, Grant gulped down his embarrassment and tasted the champagne. His bride leaned forward and put her mouth along the lip of the flute and tasted the fruity, bubbly wine. He couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away. He remembered her kisses and wanted more. Hell, she was more intoxicating than the wine.

Dipping his head, he couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss her once more. This time the kiss was brief. But the impact was as powerful as the others.

She smiled at him…or at Griffin. Damn!

Who did she see when she looked at him? It grated on his nerves that this beautiful woman, who was holding his hand and sharing champagne kisses with him, loved his brother. What had she seen in his twin?

This crazy wedding was getting to him, too. Maybe there was something in the water…or champagne. What was wrong with him? Annie was not his bride, not even a potential date. Hell, she should have been his sister-in-law. And that would have been a damn shame.

For one insane moment, he wished her smiles and kisses were for him. That was his most dangerous thought yet.

He disentangled himself from her and took a step away. He still couldn’t draw a full breath though. What was in that champagne? Or was it Annie’s kisses that had drugged him?

Whatever it was, he knew he needed to get away from her. And fast!

BENEATH A CASCADE of rose petals, they raced toward the decorated car parked in front of the church. The velvety aroma embraced Annie just as Grant’s solid arm held her firmly against his side. She caught a glimpse of a few suggestive sayings shoe-polished onto the car windows along with a string of balloons attached to the side mirrors. She gave a self-satisfied smile. The wedding and reception couldn’t have gone better—except if she’d actually gotten married.

But she wouldn’t—couldn’t—think of that now. Even a sexy fake groom was better than none, especially when her old school chums and fellow teachers had drooled all over Grant.

Grant…not Griffin. She figured her ex-fiancé, if he’d shown up for their wedding, would have charmed them the way he’d dazzled her with slick talk and Casanova grins—but not with the same sincerity and savoir faire Grant seemed to possess. A peculiar feeling tightened her stomach. This charade was about to end.

Then she wouldn’t have Grant’s strong shoulder to lean against, his warm smile encouraging her or his kisses tempting her to forget her recent heartache. Why that should bother her, she wasn’t sure. She certainly didn’t want to analyze the reasons.

With her friends and family cheering and engulfing the car, Grant held the door open for her. Bunching her skirt around her, she slid into the passenger seat, but her train and veil trailed out the door. Grant gathered the material and settled it across her legs. His hand brushed her calf, making her skin tingle and sending tiny electric sparks along her spine.

But he didn’t seem to notice his effect on her. He didn’t pause or meet her startled gaze. He slammed the door closed and darted around the car.

Well, why should he notice anything? He wasn’t her groom. He was supposed to have been her brother-in-law. But why did he make her feel things she shouldn’t be feeling with a stranger on her wedding day?

Simple. He looked too much like her fiancé, almost making her forget he wasn’t Griffin. Almost, but not quite. That in itself was a risky acknowledgment.

Grant had a different type of charisma, a quiet charm that unsettled her. Griffin had been boisterous and entertaining, but he’d never made her feel emotionally vulnerable. And that had given her a false sense of security, she realized now, looking back. But Grant made her feel as if she was on the verge of something, teetering on the edge of a cliff. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel exposed, as if he could see through her defenses right into her soul. His touch ignited her. And his kisses! Oh, Lord, she didn’t need to think about his kisses.

Maybe it was best if they parted ways—and soon.

“We’re off,” Grant said, gunning the engine of his rental car. The sedan took off with a jolt and peeled out of the parking lot.

Annie resisted the temptation to look back, to second-guess her decision to leave her hometown. This was for the best. She’d said her goodbyes. Now it was time to move on to her new life. Still, she felt a tiny catch of sadness mixed with remorse in her chest.

Being alone for the past few years had been difficult enough in a small town where she knew her neighbors as well as she knew herself. She’d missed her parents. Their deaths had shaken her to the core, left her all alone without anyone but Aunt Maudie to call family. Living in her parents’ house had only made her pain and isolation more acute. But being all alone in a big city suddenly seemed more bleak. She’d be truly alone, with no one to turn to for comfort or even a shared memory.

Her stomach rolled, waves of doubt crashing through her. What if she was making another mistake? If she was, then at least she’d suffer the consequences anonymously. No one would ever have to know. Besides, it was already too late. She’d already burned the proverbial bridge to her hometown. There was no going back now—not unless she wanted to confess her wedding had been a charade. And be the laughingstock of Lockett? No way!

A clanking noise startled her. Oh, great. Just what they needed—car trouble. Would this interfere with their clean getaway?

“What’s that?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“Cans,” Grant answered, looking calm and collected. “The groomsmen tied them onto the bumper.”

“Oh.” She slumped back into her seat, exhaustion from the long, traumatic day settling into her bones. “They really went all out, what with shoe polish and balloons.”

He cleared his throat. “Uh-huh,” he said, smirking.

Annie glanced at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He seemed to stop fighting it and broke into a grin.

She felt her insides dissolve like ice cream in July. But it couldn’t be his dazzling smile, she reasoned. It had to be the summer sun beating down on them. “Tell me.”

He shot her a glance. “Are you that innocent?”

“What?” Confused, she tried to figure out what piece of the conversation she’d missed. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed his jaw. “You and Griffin didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?” Drained of patience, she heard the defensiveness in her own voice. “What are you talking about?”

“Never mind. It’s none of my business.” He cast a glance toward the balloons flapping and turning in the wind. “Those aren’t balloons, Annie.”

She leaned toward him, squinting to look out his window. The balloons weren’t a normal shape for the helium-filled variety. The color was a neutral shade not a vibrant color, as you’d expect to see at a circus. Realization dawned. She felt her hairline burn with embarrassment. “Oh my.”

That’s why he’d thought she was an innocent! She hadn’t recognized—hadn’t even thought about—the balloons being condoms. Worse than that, he knew she and Griffin hadn’t had sex. Why that should be so awful she wasn’t sure. But it was.

Did he think she was a virgin? That she couldn’t satisfy her man? That Griff had gotten cold feet because she’d given him a cold shoulder in bed? She jerked her chin. It didn’t matter what Grant thought.

Still, her skin blazed. She tried to remember back to what else she’d said to him when they’d first met, when she’d believed he was Griff, when she’d practically thrown herself at him. Her head pounded. She didn’t want to think about that.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his tone a mixture of reassurance and good humor. “I’m sure they’ll pop or something before we get to the airport.”

“Right. The airport.” Where they’d say goodbye.

Why did that thought disconcert her? Probably because she’d depended on Grant all day. And he’d actually come through for her, shown her he was dependable, whereas other men—especially her fiancés—had proven the opposite. When they reached the airport, she’d be on her own. For good.

But that was fine with her, she assured herself. She wanted freedom, not some man.

Grant reached toward the rearview mirror and adjusted it. She noticed his strong, tanned hands and remembered the feel of them touching her waist, grasping her hand, caressing her face just before he’d kissed her at the altar. Something stirred inside her. Irritated, she worked on straightening out her veil, smoothing out the wrinkles.

How she wished she’d changed into something else before heading to the airport. But a few days ago Griff had told her he wanted to show off his bride to all the world. Also, he’d said they wouldn’t have time before their flight. Maybe he’d simply wanted to humiliate her even more.

Feeling her body tense with questions that she’d probably never know the answers to, she needed something to take her mind off Griff. “So—” she focused on Grant “—I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you before the wedding. You live in New York. Is that right?”