Читать книгу Santa Brought A Son - Melissa McClone, Melissa Mcclone - Страница 12

As the new Mr. and Mrs. Mark Slayter finished their stroll down the aisle to the tune of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” the bells in the steeple chimed. Reed followed the stream of wedding guests outside to the steps of the 275-year-old church. People milled about as if it were a spring afternoon, not early December with a wintry chill in the air.

“I’m Rebecca,” an attractive woman with hazel-green eyes said to him. “Are you a friend of the groom or the bride?”

“The groom,” Reed answered. “Rebecca Donnelly, right?”

“You know my name, but I’m positive we’ve never met before.” She smiled seductively. “I would never forget a man like you.”

“You sat next to me in physics and world history senior year.” Her blank look didn’t surprise him. “Reed Connors.”

Her mouth gaped. “I’m sorry, Reed. I didn’t recognize you.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I only lived in Fernville a couple of years. No reason for you to remember me.”

She pursed her glossed lips. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Possibly.” His hint of suggestiveness left Rebecca nodding and batting her heavily mascara-covered eyelashes.

As he made the one-block stroll to the reception, Reed searched for his friends from high school. They had to be here, but he didn’t see them. He reached the reception site, the town’s recreation center. An odd choice for a wedding reception considering he used to compete in chess tournaments there. The only difference between then and now was a new sign out front.

Inside, a framed picture of Mark and Kelli sat on an easel. A white mat with guests’ signatures and greetings surrounded the photo. Reed picked up the pen, scribbled the words “May the force be with you as you live long and prosper together” and signed his name. Mark would understand as only a former Star Wars/Trekkie geek would.

With his seat-assignment card in hand, Reed stepped through the pine-garland-trimmed entrance to the multipurpose room and was transported from the recreation center’s nondescript decor into a romantic winter wonderland.

The scent of pine permeated the air. White gauzy fabric with sparkling snowflakes on it covered the walls. Garland entwined with white lights was draped over them. Next to the dance floor stood a twelve-foot Christmas tree decorated with white lights, red bows and crystal hearts. A smiling angel, with wings spread wide, graced the top of the tall tree. Reed’s assistant had sent a gift for him, and he wondered if it was under the tree with the other wedding presents.

Had Samantha done all this? The girl he remembered hadn’t seemed interested in flowers unless they were for a prom corsage. Though she’d been more concerned about whether they clashed with the color and style of her dress. But Reed had thought he’d seen more in her. Too bad he’d been wrong.

Reed passed a group of carolers dressed like characters from a Dickens novel and made his way to the other side of the room. He located table four.

“Hey.” Reed was happy to see three of his closest friends from high school and two women seated here. “I’ve been wondering where you guys were. It’s been a long time.”

“I don’t believe it.” Wes Harkens, who had a goatee and a lot less hair than Reed remembered, rose from his seat and shook his hand. “Mark said you were coming, but I didn’t see you at the church so I thought you hadn’t made it.”

“I was with Mark until right before the ceremony,” Reed said, thinking how good it had been to catch up on the past eight years with his old friend. “Mark was as cool as a cucumber, but once I saw Kelli, I understood.”

As his three buddies nodded knowingly, the attractive brunette sighed. “Don’t you guys think about anything else?”

“Sorry, honey. We don’t.” Dan Crenshaw, as tall as ever, but no longer as skinny as a twig, laughed. “I thought a million-dollar deal would spring up and keep you away, Reed.”

He smiled. “I don’t make the deals, just make sure everyone knows about them and Wintersoft.”

“But you must be doing well. Wintersoft is a great company.” Patrick Fitzgerald, who looked eighteen not twenty-eight, hugged him. “Good to see you, Reed.”

“You, too,” he said.

The introductions continued. Reed met Dan’s fiancée, Jenn, and Wes’s wife, a pregnant, auburn-haired beauty named Claire. For two guys who’d never dated in high school, they had done well in the spouse department. Patrick, who hadn’t outgrown his thick black-rimmed glasses and too-short pants, seemed to have come alone, but two empty seats at the table still remained.

“Looks like we’ll have all the single women to ourselves,” Reed said to Patrick.

“Maybe you will.”

“Thank goodness,” a familiar feminine voice said. “I never thought I’d find it.”

One glance and Reed’s heart skipped a beat. He felt the same way he had the first time Samantha had bounced into the computer lab in her short cheerleader skirt and tight sweater asking for help with her algebra homework. She had never meant to be a tease, but she had been a natural flirt who drove all males, regardless of age, to the brink of insanity.

“Table four.” She glanced at her table-assignment card and at each of the table’s occupants. Her gaze lingered on Reed for a moment longer than the others, and he wondered if anyone else noticed or saw the wariness in her eyes. “Looks like I’m at the right place.”

All three of his friends stared at Samantha with the same look of awe they had in high school. Patrick nearly tripped over himself to pull out her chair. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Here you go, Samantha.”

Her face glowed with a radiance Reed didn’t remember. Must be the lighting. No one could look that good.

“Thank you,” she said.

Patrick’s red cheeks brought back so many memories about Samantha for Reed. His senior year he’d hacked into the school computer system to get her class schedule. The first day back at school he’d managed to “bump” into her between every class, but more than once he’d been too shy to say anything but hello. He’d been so pathetic. At least that was in the past.

Reed sat, leaving an empty seat between him and Samantha. The smart thing to do, he told himself, even though the idea of sitting next to Art Wilson—the man who had tormented him through high school and married the girl of Reed’s teenaged dreams—didn’t thrill him, but he was an adult and no longer in a losing competition. He could handle it. And Art.

Samantha picked up her flute of champagne. “Wasn’t the ceremony lovely?”

“I cried,” Claire admitted.

“You cry during commercials. Even when you aren’t pregnant.” Jenn laughed. “The bridesmaid dresses are gorgeous.”

“They are beautiful, but now you can see why I told Kelli no when she asked me to be a bridesmaid?” Claire patted her big-enough-to-burst belly. “I’m much too big to prance around in a sexy bridesmaid dress.”

“You’re all baby.” Wes’s voice, so soft and full of affection, was a 180 degrees different from when he used to talk like Commander Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation. “You look beautiful.”

Claire shrugged. “Thanks, but I didn’t want an album of wedding party pictures showing how ‘beautiful’ and big I look.”

“These are nice.” Dan adjusted the centerpiece, a small pine wreath circling a vanilla-scented candle. “I can’t wait to see what you do for our wedding, Samantha.”

“She won’t be able to top what she did at ours,” Wes admitted while Claire agreed.

Samantha’s eyes reflected her gratitude. “Thanks, but I only did what Kelli and Mark wanted done.”

Reed watched the exchange in amazement. The entire table acted as if they were friends, not acquaintances. He didn’t get it. Samantha would have never been caught dead talking to any of these guys in high school. She had been nice to him and treated him differently from others who weren’t in her clique. She’d made him feel special, but he’d helped her pass all her freshman and sophomore math and science courses. He’d believed friendship had grown from the tutoring. They’d been an odd pair—the beauty and brain—sharing their dreams for the future and what they wanted out of life. They had exchanged letters once he left for college until spring break of his sophomore year when they’d become lovers and the truth about how she felt—or rather didn’t feel—about him came out.

The DJ announced the arrival of the bride and groom, Mr. and Mrs. Mark Slayter, and the wedding guests clapped. A harpist took over from the carolers, and a sit-down prime rib dinner was served. The conversation never lagged. Reed’s friends wanted to know about his job and life in Boston. After that, stories about their high school days and being pathetic geeks kept them entertained. Samantha didn’t talk much.

He stared at her. She was so elegant, so stunning. His gaze drifted to her lips. He remembered every contour, every detail of those soft lips, even her taste. He remembered so much more about her, about the days and the night they had spent together. Too bad it hadn’t meant the same to her as it had to him. Reed reached for his glass of ice water.

What he needed was a strong dose of reality. Something to remind him Samantha was no longer on the market and put an end to the fantasy forming in his mind.

“Where’s Art?” Reed asked her. “At home with the kids?”

Everyone at the table stared at Samantha. Not even the crystal-handled cake knife could cut through the tension.

Wes started to speak, but Samantha interrupted him. “I—it’s okay. I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Reed asked, feeling like the last one to learn a worm virus was about to destroy his hard drive.

She toyed with the edge of her napkin. “Art was involved in a motorcycle accident three years ago, and his injuries were too severe. He died.”

Reed felt as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus. He also felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“You had no reason to know.”

But he should have known. Reed glanced at her bare ring finger. How could he not have noticed before? Why hadn’t he asked about Art earlier? But then again, Reed had believed Samantha was living a happily ever after like she’d dreamed about. “You doing okay?”

The question sounded ridiculous once the words were out, but he’d felt compelled to say something.

Her steady gaze met his. “I’m doing fine.”

Fine.

Samantha deserved better than that. But it wasn’t up to him to give it to her. He knew that, both logically and realistically. Art might be out of the picture, but so was Reed. His flight was leaving tomorrow. His life was in Boston.

But you’re here now.

So what? He’d come to Fernville to have fun. He wasn’t looking for a second chance. Maybe a fling…

Samantha rose. “The lights on the tree are flickering. I need to fix them.”

“Want some help?” Patrick asked.

“Thanks, but it’s happened before and I know what to do.”

As Samantha walked away, Claire sighed. “Come on, you guys. Don’t make her do it alone.”

“Reed?” Jenn suggested.

“Be right back.” Reed stood. He should have done this on his own. Proactive, not reactive. That’s how he handled things now, but around Samantha he felt a little unsure and awkward, reminding him of his high school days. It didn’t make sense.

Standing at the tree, she tightened the miniature bulbs.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“No, thanks.” She didn’t glance up. “I’ve got it under control.”

Reed wished he could say the same. He touched one of the crystal hearts on the tree. Time to pull himself together. Samantha shouldn’t have him reverting to his former insecurities. Okay, she was beautiful, but he’d dated beautiful women before. Must be guilt over bringing up Art. It couldn’t be anything else. “I wanted to apologize for what I said back at the table.”

“No need.”

“I’m still sorry.” He checked for a loose bulb on the string of lights. “I would never want to cause you any pain.”

“Now that’s a good one.”

Her bitterness surprised him. She’s the one who didn’t want him. Perhaps she was having regrets. “I know it was a long time ago, but we once meant something to each other.”

“Did we?”

“Yes, we did.” At least he had thought so.

She raised a shoulder. “All that was a big mistake.”

Just as he’d assumed, their time together had meant nothing to her. “A mistake,” he repeated.

“I knew you would agree.”

But he didn’t. Not really. Being with Samantha had been both the best and the worst time of his life. A time of wonder and love. A time of rejection and disappointment. But he wouldn’t call it a mistake. Perhaps a lesson learned. “Sam—”

“Found it.” She fiddled with the wires, and the lights stayed on. “No more flickering.”

Reed wished he could say the same thing about his feelings for Samantha. His emotions seemed to be flickering on and off, and he didn’t know how to fix that.

“The bride and groom want to be on their way, so let’s get all the single women on the dance floor for the bouquet toss,” the DJ announced.

“That’s my cue to get the bride her bouquet. Excuse me.” Samantha rose, grateful for a valid reason to get away from Reed if only for a few minutes. She’d been upset at his returning to Fernville, but now she was annoyed at him. She hated the pity in his eyes. His need to apologize for bringing up Art.

So she was a widow? It wasn’t by choice, but she’d learned to live with it. Because of Timmy, she’d had no choice.

Timmy. The thought of her son filled her with warmth. Like her own parents, Reed had made the wrong choice where his child was concerned. He hadn’t wanted to be any part of Timmy’s life. Or hers. She wondered if he ever had regrets. She wondered if her own parents did. Not that it mattered. She’d only been wanted and loved on their terms. She and Timmy were better off without them in their lives.

She picked up the smaller throw-away bouquet made with fire-and-ice roses and sprigs of pine and made her way through the crowded room to the dance floor. The sweet scent of the roses tickled her nostrils, reminding her this was a wedding not a wake. She was here to enjoy herself. No sense letting Reed Connors get to her. He wouldn’t be in Fernville forever. He didn’t care enough to cause problems. Time to stop overreacting. Didn’t she deserve a night out and some fun?

At the dance floor, Samantha handed the bouquet to a beaming Kelli. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Kelli sniffed the roses. “Make sure you stand where I can see you.”

“Okay.” But it was far from okay. Getting stung by a bee would be less painful than battling the other women for a chance at the bouquet, but Samantha wasn’t about to disappoint her friend. She stood on the parquet dance floor, trying not to get jostled by a woman dressed in a hot pink dress, who jockeyed for a better position.

“One, two…” Before the DJ reached three, Kelli tossed the bouquet over her right shoulder. The flowers soared through the air. A woman in a teal suit reached up, but was a second too late. The bouquet landed right in Samantha’s hands. She stared at the white roses with the red tips. Their coy scent wasn’t so sweet now, but Kelli was clapping and smiling. That’s the only thing that mattered.

Samantha clutched the bouquet to her chest and grinned at her friend. “I can’t believe my luck,” she said dryly.

As she walked off the dance floor, Mark removed the garter from Kelli’s left leg while men whistled and cheered. The DJ counted down again. On three, Mark fired the blue satin garter over his shoulder and into the crowd of bachelors. As the garter approached, the men backed away. The garter arced toward the floor when a hand snagged it out of the air.

“Whoever caught that wanted it bad,” Claire said.

She was such a romantic. Samantha knew better. “He probably had too much to drink and doesn’t realize what he’s done.”

As Reed approached, he twirled the garter on his finger.

Jenn raised a finely arched brow. “You caught the garter?”

“I promised Mark if no one tried to catch it, I would.” Reed placed the garter on his arm. “Wedding traditions mean a lot to Kelli, and Mark didn’t want her to be disappointed.”

Tears glistened in Claire’s eyes. “That is so sweet.”

Samantha couldn’t believe it. Reed sounded so much like the boy she’d known in high school she felt a tug on her heart.

“Would the pair who caught the garter and bouquet please join the bride and groom on the dance floor?” the DJ asked.

No, she couldn’t. A momentary panic sent her rising from her chair. Reed stood also. Mark waved at them; Kelli grinned. At least the bride and groom were happy about this.

It wasn’t a big deal, Samantha told herself as Reed led her back to the dance floor. One dance at a wedding in front of more than 150 people meant nothing. She repeated that to herself when he placed one hand on her shoulder and held her hand with the other. And repeated it again as they swayed to the music—a romantic ballad from one of the summer’s biggest movies.

It was only a dance.

Too bad it didn’t feel that way.

Reed’s arms weren’t around her pulling her close, but they might as well have been. His warmth and strength seeped into her. Shivery sensations shot through her. Dancing with him felt like second nature. A nature better left untapped, a little voice cautioned. But she ignored it. Samantha had been alone for so long, she’d forgotten how nice it felt to dance and be held. His gentle touch sent tingles up her arm and down to the tips of her black leather pumps. Nerve endings came alive. Her heart, too. It went against all reason, but she hoped this once the song was a long one.

Glancing up at Reed, her breath caught in her throat. Years ago, she’d dreamed of being on the dance floor with him at a wedding. Their wedding. But like all dreams, hers hadn’t come true. And she had one person to blame. She looked away.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ announced. “Let’s give the couple dancing under the mistletoe some encouragement?”

Guests tapped flatware against their glasses. Because of the clinking, Samantha assumed the DJ meant the bride and groom, but Kelli smiled and pointed toward the ceiling. Samantha didn’t have to look up to know what was above her and Reed. She’d been the one to hang the mistletoe on the dance floor.

Reed’s eyes darkened. “Shall we?”

No. That’s the last thing she wanted to do. Now or ever.

But one brief kiss was nothing more than a holiday tradition. And it would mean a lot to Kelli. One peck wasn’t about to set the town gossips’ tongues wagging. Or change anything. Past, present, future. “Why not?”

She waited for Reed to take the lead. He lowered his mouth to hers. The moment his lips touched her, sensation rocketed through her. Electric shock, chemical reaction, you name it—she felt it. Talk about a swoonworthy kiss. If Reed hadn’t wrapped his arm around her she would have fallen. She waited for him to back away but he didn’t.

Stop, she should stop.

But kissing him felt so good. So right. So perfect.

He wasn’t stopping. She didn’t want to stop, either. His taste intoxicated her, a dangerous elixir that should be marked off-limits. His scent hadn’t changed over the years and reminded her of the magical kisses they’d shared before.

Memories rushed back. Buried emotions, too. The years faded. The distance between them seemed to disappear.

More, she wanted more.

She leaned into him. Reed took the hint and pulled her closer. Her breasts pressed against his firm chest. Strong, he was stronger than she remembered. This wasn’t a boy holding her but a man. She wished he never had to let go.

For the first time in a long while, she belonged. She could be Sam. Not Samantha. Not Mom…

Timmy.

What was she doing?

She jerked away. Applause filled the room. Samantha didn’t want to guess what shade of red her cheeks were at the moment. Most likely the same color as the holly-red tablecloths or roses in Kelli’s bridal bouquet. Thank goodness the lights had been turned down.

The applause continued. Reed bowed. Not to be outdone, she curtsied. If he was unaffected by the kiss and the attention, so was she. No matter she had trouble catching her breath and her hands trembled. Never mind it was all she could do not to run to the nearest exit.

“Sorry,” Samantha mumbled as she made her way back to their table. “Too much champagne.”

“No apology necessary, though I think the champagne had little to do with it.”

She froze. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s called chemistry,” he whispered, and a shiver of delight inched down her spine.

“No.” She stepped away from him. “We simply got carried away.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

His words sent heat coiling within her. No, she couldn’t let this happen. Not here. Not with Reed. Not again.

She tilted her chin. “But it’s going to be the last.”