Читать книгу Falling For The Wrong Brother - Michelle Major - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“Do you hate me?”

Maggie paused in the act of folding the last of the tablecloths that would have been used at her reception. It was nearly eleven at night, and the Miriam Inn’s ballroom was dark other than one dim bulb glowing in the entry, where Brenna Apria stood, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

“Does it matter?” Maggie asked, then placed the tablecloth on top of the pile with more force than necessary. Nancy Schulman, who managed events at the inn, had called her earlier to report that Trevor’s mom and grandma had descended on the venue and were scooping up the vases of flowers that Maggie and her bridesmaids had arranged and placed around the room the previous day.

The Spencers owned the inn and event center, and Maggie had recommended Nancy for the manager position after a nasty divorce nine months ago. Maggie appreciated that the woman still felt some loyalty, when Grammy had made it clear in a barrage of texts and voice mails throughout the day that everyone else thought Maggie was either crazy or downright cruel to have left poor, sweet, upstanding Trevor Stone at the altar.

Maggie hated to admit how much it hurt that people who’d known her since she was in diapers could turn on her so quickly, but she wouldn’t let it show. That was something she’d learned from her mother, who’d put on a brave front even when ovarian cancer ravaged her, metastasizing throughout her body.

She’d told Nancy to let the Stone women take whatever they wanted and that she’d clean up the rest after. Then she’d called the florist, the DJ and the photographer to personally apologize and assure them she’d pay each of their bills in full.

Even knowing they were getting their money, none of the vendors had been happy. Working the Spencer-Stone wedding was more than a regular job. The two families were practically royalty in the growing town, and Harvest Vineyards was quickly gaining a national reputation for its wine.

But the loss of visibility and free marketing couldn’t be helped. At least not by Maggie. It was rapidly dawning on her exactly what she’d done with her promise to Trevor about keeping the real reason she’d walked away a secret.

Now the woman she’d considered her best friend, who’d known about Trevor’s cheating, was standing here looking for what? Forgiveness? Absolution?

Maggie was fresh out of both.

“It matters. You’re my best friend.” Brenna walked forward, in and out of shadows, but Maggie could see how miserable she looked. Her dark eyes were red, her high cheekbones stained with the tracks of dried tears. Maggie didn’t care. Her own face was puffy from crying and even now, when she thought she had no more tears to shed, she could feel moisture prick the corners of her eyes.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. “How long have you known?”

“Trevor promised he’d change,” Brenna insisted instead of answering the question, then broke off at the glare Maggie sent her. “That it was a onetime lapse in judgment. I wanted to believe him, and I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

“That backfired,” Maggie muttered.

“You have no idea how sorry I am.”

“You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

“I am,” Brenna whispered.

Maggie grabbed the tablecloths and shoved them into a cardboard box. “You were aware my fiancé was cheating and didn’t tell me. I caught him swapping spit with another woman minutes before the wedding, and you weren’t even shocked. Did you know about Julia?”

Brenna’s full lips pressed into a thin line. “I thought it had ended, but they were flirty at your engagement party. I asked Trevor about it, and he said I was overreacting. He told me I’d ruin both of your lives if I said anything.”

“Don’t you think it would have been worse if I’d ended up married to a cheater?”

“He told me—”

“You must know you have terrible judgment when it comes to men,” Maggie said through clenched teeth, unable to stop herself, even though she knew the comment was hurtful.

Brenna grimaced. “I know.” She picked up a stack of napkins and thrust them toward Maggie. “You can hit me if you want, like Griffin did with Trevor. I deserve it as much as him.”

Maggie stilled as unease snaked along her spine. She hadn’t admitted anything to Griffin, so it was difficult to imagine him defending her to his brother. And yet... “What do you mean Griffin hit Trevor?”

“Decked him in front of the pulpit. Mrs. Davis was standing just a few feet away. She said Griffin looked like he wanted to kill Trevor but only threw one punch. Apparently, Trevor has a nasty shiner.”

“Have you seen him?”

Brenna shook her head. “I also didn’t realize Griffin was back in town. I thought he said he wasn’t coming to the wedding.”

“He had a change of plans,” Maggie told her.

“You talked to him?” Brenna’s brows shot up.

“As I was leaving the church,” Maggie said with a nod. “He ended up giving me a ride home.”

Brenna’s sharp intake of breath was audible in the quiet space. “What does he know?”

Maggie bristled at the implied accusation in her friend’s—former friend’s—tone. “Nothing he heard from me. Trevor was the one who betrayed me, Brenna. I understand that, but it doesn’t change how hurt I am that you didn’t tell me what you knew.”

She walked to the far side of the reception hall, where they’d set up a table for the buffet line. Thankfully, after a few hours off her feet with an HGTV-watching marathon, her ankle felt almost normal again so she wouldn’t have to recount her embarrassing fall to Brenna. At one end of the long table stood a framed photo of Maggie and Trevor—their official engagement photo.

It had been taken just after Christmas, the two of them standing together on the bridge that spanned the creek snaking through the park in the middle of town. Snow covered the trees and their cheeks were rosy from the cold air. They looked happy. She’d been happy, or so she thought.

“I don’t know why I agreed to take the blame for canceling the wedding in the first place.” She lifted the picture off the table, gripping the frame so tight her knuckles went white. “How is it better this way?”

“It shows people that you were in control,” Brenna suggested weakly.

“They hate me.”

“No one could ever hate you,” Brenna countered but they both knew that wasn’t true.

“Why, Brenna?” Maggie hated the catch in her voice. “Why not talk to me? If I’d known, I would have broken up with him months ago.”

Brenna put up her hands, palms out, defending herself from Maggie’s simple line of questions. “I believe he loved you, and you deserve happiness more than anyone I know. I’d never do anything to hurt you. At least tell me you believe that.”

“I do,” Maggie agreed reluctantly. She and Brenna had met soon after Maggie returned to town when they’d taken a yoga class together. It was an unlikely friendship—Maggie had just been elected mayor and Brenna had just filed a restraining order against her latest ex-boyfriend. “Can I ask you a question?”

Brenna nodded. “Of course.”

Maggie appreciated both the other woman’s commitment to making her life better and the fact that she didn’t seem to care about Maggie’s angelic reputation or who her family was in town. Brenna had been the first person since Maggie graduated college and returned to Stonecreek who liked Maggie for herself.

Brenna had a six-year-old daughter, Ellie, whom Maggie adored, and the two women had become fast friends. So much that when Jana Stone needed to hire a new assistant to work in the family’s office and manage the vineyard’s tiny tasting room, Maggie had recommended Brenna for the job.

She hadn’t had a moment’s doubt about her fiancé and where Brenna’s loyalty would lie if it came to that. On paper, Maggie and Trevor were perfect, and she’d been willing to ignore the rather flat chemistry and lack of spark in favor of all the practical things they had in common. She’d assumed he felt the same. What an idiot she’d been.

“Do you think...” She paused, looking for the right words. When none came she simply blurted, “Was Trevor that desperate to not marry me?”

“Maggie, don’t go there.” Brenna wrung her hands in front of her waist. She’d changed from her bridesmaid’s dress into a pair of black yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt but other than her blotchy face, she was still a knockout. A few inches taller than Maggie’s five-foot-six-inch frame, Brenna had curves for days. Combined with her olive skin and thick caramel-colored hair, men noticed her wherever she went.

“I need to know. Was he using the affair to force me to walk away so he didn’t have to?”

“I believe so.”

The simple statement was a physical blow. It was bad enough to believe that Trevor had betrayed her because he’d found his soul mate in another woman, but hearing that he just couldn’t stand the thought of marrying Maggie? It was too much.

“You don’t think they’re in love?”

Brenna shook her head, a strand of shiny hair escaping the elastic band at the back of her hair.

“He should have told me he didn’t want to go through with it.” Maggie pressed her fingers to her temples. If she really examined the last couple of months, she could see the cracks in her relationship with Trevor turning into gaping chasms. They hadn’t been intimate since...well, far too long. He’d shown no interest in wedding plans, which she’d attributed to him being a man and nothing more.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything,” Brenna repeated, and her voice cracked. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Maggie sighed. She didn’t want to end the friendship, despite Brenna’s dishonesty. Trevor was the one to blame in all this. She’d never admit it out loud, but the more she thought about a life without him at her side, the more relief spilled through her.

Had she really gotten so caught up in planning a wedding that she ignored the fact she didn’t want to marry the man whose ring she wore? What did that say about her and how much she’d allowed her life to be dictated by what her family and the town expected of her?

“I’ll call you next week,” she offered, because the breach of trust still stung.

“Okay,” Brenna agreed, swiping at her cheeks. “If you need anything...”

“Time,” Maggie said quietly. “I need time.”

“You deserve better than him,” Brenna whispered, then turned and left Maggie alone in the empty reception hall once again.

“You’re also too nice,” a deep voice said from the back of the hall. “I remember that now.”

She turned to see Griffin emerging from the door that led to the kitchen area.

Annoyance pricked Maggie’s spine at the subtle condemnation in his words. As if being nice was a bad thing. “She apologized, and your brother’s the one who cheated. What would you have me do?”

“Tell her she’s a sorry excuse for a friend,” Griffin suggested. “Yell and scream at her for not having your back.”

Maggie grabbed another pile of napkins and shoved them into the box. “Or give her a black eye like you did to Trevor?”

One side of Griffin’s mouth hitched up as he examined the knuckles on one hand. “It felt good.”

“I told you I don’t need you to defend me. Walking away from the wedding was my choice.” She stalked forward, maneuvering around tables until she stood toe-to-toe with him. “What are you doing here anyway? Do you have some new sixth sense for predicting my lowest moments so you can watch and gloat?” She couldn’t conceal the anger in her tone. Maggie always kept a tight hold on her emotions, but with Griffin she seemed unable to hide anything.

“Mom sent me over to pick up the cases of wine.”

She stilled as he reached out a finger and traced it along the curve of her cheek. The touch was featherlight, and she resisted the urge to lean into it. Maggie had lived every day of her life surrounded by family, friends and the town she loved...until today. Now she was alone, and the solitude chafed at her in a way that made her feel weak. She hated being weak. “Brenna was right about one thing,” Griffin told her. “My brother doesn’t deserve you, and he sure as hell doesn’t deserve your tears.”

“It’s my canceled wedding,” Maggie said, making her voice light. “And I’ll cry if I want to.”

Griffin’s green eyes softened, but he dropped his hand as if he realized the moment was too intimate. “What next?”

“Back to life.” Maggie stepped away. “We weren’t scheduled to leave on the honeymoon for a few weeks, so Monday it’s business as usual at city hall.”

“Right.” Griffin gave a slight nod. “You’re Stonecreek’s incumbent mayor.”

The thought of facing everyone at work and the members of the town council made a sick pit open in Maggie’s gut. “When do you take off?”

Griffin didn’t answer, so Maggie turned back to him, holding the cardboard box in front of her like a shield. He watched her, his gaze unreadable. “What?”

One broad shoulder lifted and lowered. “I may not be leaving for a while.”

She concentrated on breathing, feeling like a thousand-pound weight sat on her chest. “How long is a while?”

Another shrug. “My mom wants me to build the new tasting room at the vineyard, and I’ve tentatively agreed. I owe her since the fire in the original building was my fault.”

“It was a stupid accident. Everyone knew that.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I think Dad never rebuilt because he wanted the reminder of how badly I’d failed him. Mom claims it’s important someone in the family oversees the project. We still need to work out the particulars, but I might be around a few months.”

“Oh.” Her lips formed the word as her brain scrambled for purchase. Griffin Stone back in town. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t affect her, not after everything that had happened today. But it did, and her reaction to him made all the other chaos in her life lose focus.

The only thing she could see was the tall, handsome man who’d come to her defense—even when she’d told him not to—standing in front of her.

“I’m going to start loading the wine,” he said, still studying her. “See you around, Maggie.”

She gave a small wave, then continued packing up boxes, telling herself Griffin didn’t matter to her.

Too bad her heart refused to be convinced.