The Unexpected Wedding Guest
“You look great, Suz. Beautiful.”
Suz scanned him for obvious signs that pod people had taken over his body. You look great, Suz? Beautiful? These were not the words of the Max Trevetti she knew. He was more likely to tell her to tie her shoelaces so she wouldn’t trip.
“Why’re you looking at me that way, Suz?”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Sure I’ve been drinking. It’s my little sister’s wedding.” He touched the tip of one finger to the spaghetti strap of her red dress.
She glanced at the spot he’d touched to see if it had caught fire. Nope. It just felt that way!
Dear Reader,
Not only does Special Edition bring you the joys of life, love and family—but we also capitalize on our authors’ many talents in storytelling. In our spotlight, Christine Rimmer’s exciting new miniseries, VIKING BRIDES, is the epitome of innovative reading. The first book, The Reluctant Princess, details the transformation of an everyday woman to glorious royal—with a Viking lover to match! Christine tells us, “For several years, I’ve dreamed of creating a modern-day country where the ways of the legendary Norsemen would still hold sway. I imagined what fun it would be to match up the most macho of men, the Vikings, with contemporary American heroines. Oh, the culture clash—oh, the lovely potential for lots of romantic fireworks! This dream became VIKING BRIDES.” Don’t miss this fabulous series!
Our Readers’ Ring selection is Judy Duarte’s Almost Perfect, a darling tale of how good friends fall in love as they join forces to raise two orphaned kids. This one will get you talking! Next, Gina Wilkins delights us with Faith, Hope and Family, in which a tormented heroine returns to save her family and faces the man she’s always loved. You’ll love Elizabeth Harbison’s Midnight Cravings, in which a sassy publicist and a small-town police chief fall hard for each other and give in to a sizzling attraction.
The Unexpected Wedding Guest, by Patricia McLinn, brings together an unlikely couple who share an unexpected kiss. Newcomer to Special Edition Kate Welsh is no stranger to fresh plot twists, in Substitute Daddy, in which a heroine carries her deceased twin’s baby and has feelings for the last man on earth she should love—her snooty brother-in-law.
As you can see, we have a story for every reader’s taste. Stay tuned next month for six more top picks from Special Edition!
Sincerely,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
The Unexpected Wedding Guest
PATRICIA MCLINN
To Diane Chamberlain and Emilie Richards.
Friendship and fellowship beyond value…oh, yes, and great chocolate!
Books by Patricia McLinn
Silhouette Special Edition
Hoops #587
A New World #641
*Prelude to a Wedding #712
*Wedding Party #718
*Grady’s Wedding #813
Not a Family Man #864
Rodeo Nights #904
A Stranger in the Family #959
A Stranger To Love #1098
The Rancher Meets His Match #1164
†Lost-and-Found Groom #1344
†At the Heart’s Command #1350
†Hidden in a Heartbeat #1355
**Almost a Bride #1404
**Match Made in Wyoming #1409
**My Heart Remembers #1439
The Runaway Bride #1469
††Wedding of the Century #1523
††The Unexpected Wedding Guest #1541
Harlequin Historicals
Widow Woman #417
PATRICIA MCLINN
finds great satisfaction in transferring to paper the characters crowded in her head, to be enjoyed by readers. “Writing,” she says, “is the hardest work I’d never give up.” Writing has brought her new experiences, places and friends—especially friends. After degrees from Northwestern University, and newspaper jobs that have taken her from Illinois to North Carolina to Washington, D.C., Patricia now lives in Virginia, in a house that grows piles of paper, books and dog hair at an alarming rate. The paper and books are her own fault, but the dog hair comes from a charismatic collie who helps put things in perspective when neighborhood kids refer to Patricia as “the lady who lives in Riley’s house.” She would love to hear from readers at P.O. Box 7052, Arlington, VA 22207, or you can check out her Web site at www.PatriciaMcLinn.com.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter One
“Hey, Suz.”
The voice and the touch came from behind her. The voice was a rumble in her ear, the touch a warm hand on her shoulder. A hand not only warm, but large and strong. The kind of contact between a man and a woman that was a play all to itself, complete with three acts.
The opening was a faint caress, stroking across the skin left bare by the narrow straps of her dress, followed by the main act of its solid presence, telegraphing strength. Then, before the curtain came down, that little squeeze saying it sure would be nice to have an encore.
In the flash before she recognized the shoulder gripper, Suzanna Grant couldn’t think of a single man who might greet her that way at her best friend’s wedding reception here in Tobias, Wisconsin. Or anywhere else, for that matter. Not a one. And wasn’t that a cheerful thought?
She turned at the same time the shoulder gripper dropped into a seat beside her, and saw the familiar black hair, the dark eyes so thickly lashed they could look like smudges, the strong nose, the powerful shoulders. Max Trevetti, the bride’s older brother. The best man. Oh, yes, and the man who at one time could have earned a standing ovation from her if that touch had truly carried all those hidden meanings.
But that time was years ago, before she’d figured out it wasn’t going to happen. Before he’d established himself as a big brother in all but name.
“You look great, Suz. Beautiful.”
She scanned him for obvious signs that pod people had taken over his body.
You look great, Suz? Beautiful? These were not the words of the Max Trevetti she knew. He was more likely to tell her to tie her shoelaces so she wouldn’t trip, or to wear her gloves in the winter so she wouldn’t catch a cold.
“Why’re you looking at me that way, Suz?”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Sure I’ve been drinking. It’s my little sister’s wedding. And every time I finish my champagne, some waiter comes by with a new one.” He touched the tip of one finger to the spaghetti strap of her red dress. Two touches in under a minute—that had to be a record.
She glanced at the spot he’d touched to see if it had caught fire. Nope. Must be the tactile version of an optical illusion.
“Looked like it was slipping,” he said.
Of course, he had a practical reason for touching her.
That first time she’d turned from greeting the fellow transfer student who’d become her new roommate at Northwestern University and laid eyes on this roommate’s older brother, she’d seen satin sheets and white picket fences.
He’d seen…well, she didn’t know exactly what he’d seen. His view of her seemed to alternate between honorary kid sister and androgynous robot. Neither did much to boost a girl’s ego. But she’d recovered from that ages ago.
“You’ve been drinking, too,” he said now. “When I gave the toast.”
“That’s what you do after a toast—and a beautiful to
ast it was. I was just surprised to see you so relaxed, and I was speculating on its cause.”
“Isn’t my little sister getting married enough? Isn’t Annette’s wedding cause?”
“Sure.”
“Then why aren’t you celebrating?”
“I am, in my own quiet way.”
He laughed, full out, head thrown back. “Your own quiet way. That’s rich. Your way’s never been quiet. It’s fireworks and confetti.” He waved over a waiter. “So have more champagne.”
He took another glass for himself and one for her. She didn’t touch hers.
“Who’s driving you home, Max?”
“I dunno. Somebody.” He looked at her, and the flippancy vanished, his deep-brown eyes softening with familiar concern and sympathy. And with the memories. “Sorry, Suz. I wasn’t thinking. Annette has seen to it that no one will drive out of here after drinking and meet some innocent… I wasn’t thinking,” he repeated. “I was just concentrating on gettin’ through the wedding. And we did this time, even with…”
In a second display of unusual tact for Max, he took another sip of champagne rather than finishing.
Suz wasn’t in the mood for tact. Besides, talking about today’s wedding would keep him off the other topic.
“Even with my untimely arrival?” she asked.
She had certainly never meant to re-create the intrusion that had stopped Annette’s wedding to Steve Corbett nearly eight years ago. The first time, a pregnant woman had come in the side door while they were at the altar, declaring she had a reason the wedding shouldn’t go on—the baby was Steve’s. Annette had immediately left Tobias, she’d thought for good. But since Annette’s return to town three months ago, Annette and Steve had gotten back together.
Gotten back together so well that they had arranged a new wedding, at a different church, heck, even in a different century.
Then Suz had inadvertently repeated the pattern—at least part of it—by arriving late and bursting in the side door at the moment the preacher asked if anyone had cause that these two people should not be joined in holy matrimony. At least she hadn’t been pregnant. And she would never say there was reason Annette and Steve shouldn’t be joined together.
The fact that they already were joined together in the ways that counted had been obvious in their reaction to Suz’s arrival. Without hesitation they had looked at each other and laughed. After a moment everyone joined in.
Everyone except Max.
From his position next to the groom, he’d stood like a statue and stared at her as if he’d never seen her before—and never wanted to again.
“Your unexpected arrival,” he corrected now.
“Unexpected? I was invited.”
“Of course you were invited. If they’d had anyone more than Nell and me in the wedding, you’d’ve been in it—you know that.” She did know that. And she thoroughly understood Annette and Steve’s need to limit the wedding party to her brother and his daughter. “But you said you wouldn’t be able to make it because of your family situation.”
Ah, yes, her family situation.
“It turned out not to be as big an emergency as they thought. I left yesterday.”
Actually, to her parents and four older brothers, getting her to stay safe at home permanently probably did constitute an emergency. And living back in Dayton, Ohio, would be easy in so many ways. But not when the timing of their “emergency” meant missing Annette’s wedding.
“Yesterday? Then why were you late? Get lost?”
There had been that one wrong turn when she hit the edge of Tobias. But she’d already been late by then.
As she’d driven across Indiana yesterday evening, she’d received a call that there’d been a last-second snafu with a transfer of records to the corporation she and Annette had sold their business to. The administrator who’d slipped up said it could wait. But those records represented a score of small businesses that could miss a week’s worth of potential work when jobs were assigned Monday. So instead of driving on to Wisconsin, she’d stayed in Chicago last night and insisted a VP meet her downtown this morning to finish the exchange, so those businesses would be eligible to work.
She’d changed clothes in the restroom of the office building and headed straight here.
But Max was right—she had a notoriously bad sense of direction.
“I could’ve been lying in a ditch somewhere and you wouldn’t have cared,” she said with mock tragedy.
“I’d’ve cared.” It would have been a more touching declaration if it hadn’t been so breezy. And it was followed by an abrupt “Let’s dance.”
Before she could answer, Max had her hand in his and was pulling her out of the chair with such ease that it jolted her. She’d seen him lifting a lot of heavy items, from suitcases to boxes of books to dressers in the moves he’d helped her and Annette make over the years, so intellectually she’d figured the guy had to be strong. It wasn’t her intellect responding now.
He took her left hand in his and slid his other hand around to the middle of her back. Her left hand found a natural home on his shoulder as they moved into the easy rhythm of the dance.
Having the reception at Tobias Country Club was Annette and Steve’s way of keeping his mother happy—as happy as Lana Corbett got. They’d kept the ceremony as they’d wanted it, simple and straightforward. The reception was Lana’s party. Afterward Lana was going to Europe for the summer, which would surely be a relief for the newlyweds.
Suz had to give Lana Corbett credit—the food was delicious, the champagne plentiful and the service terrific. The club’s grounds, slipping down in a sweep of lawn to Lake Tobias, were beautiful, especially lit with fairy lights and a rising, nearly full moon. And the music was lovely.
Max’s voice rumbled in her ear. “Can’t believe these idiots haven’t asked you to dance.”
“Some did.”
“You said no? You’re showing good sense now, Suz.”
“You make it sound like I don’t say no. I do.”
“With all the dates you go on?”
“Your sister’s always telling me I should go on more dates.”
Sort of. According to Annette, Suz was the queen of first dates, having no trouble turning down a second invitation. Annette kept urging her to give guys multiple dates before she made up her mind.
It seemed to Suz that she was fated to have possibles abound in her dating life that never advanced to maybes, much less for sures.
The situation had worsened when she and Annette formed Every Detail, which provided harried homeowners with all the legwork and résumé checking and estimate getting for any job they needed done. Under Annette’s leadership they had worked so hard to get the business off the ground that there’d been little time for a social life. When it took off, there’d been even less time. Now they’d sold the business for enough money to keep each of them comfortable for a long, long time.
The good news was the money gave Suz the freedom to do whatever she wanted, starting Monday morning. That was also the bad news. And that was the reason her caring, protective family had manufactured an emergency.
Which was what she’d been thinking about when Max first touched her shoulder. She shivered. Couldn’t be at the memory of that light touch. Must be getting chilly.
“You okay?” His murmur in her ear was accompanied by a slow glide of his hand to the small of her back as he drew their clasped hands in closer to their bodies. “Thought you might be getting chilly in that dress.”
That explained both her shiver and why he tucked her in closer to the warmth of his body. It was Big Brother Max taking care of all around him.
So, why were the tip ends of her nerves vibrating so hard that she was surprised the hum didn’t drown out the band? Must be the surprise, that was all. He so rarely touched her—and when he did, it was always in that “Hey, kid,” manner—that her nerve endings were reacting now like a G-rated dance was something to write home about.
> His breath stirred her hair. Or had his lips actually…? No, had to be him simply breathing.
The band abandoned a rendition of “Lady in Red” for a drum flourish.
“Attention everybody!” said the bandleader. “It’s time for the throwing of the bouquet and the garter.”
Suz backed a step away from Max. That was as far as she could go until he released her. He was looking toward the bandstand, apparently oblivious to the fact that he still held her.
“Members of the wedding party, c’mon up here. It seems the new couple’s eager to get out of here. Go figure.”
Over the laughter Suz said, “Max.” She put her hands on his upper arms, the bulge of muscles solid through the material of his suit. It was like trying to shake Mount Rushmore. “Max! You have to go up there.”
He faced her, at the same time dropping his hands. “Yeah. See you later.”
He looked at her another moment, his face unreadable, then turned and headed through the guests on the dance floor.
She watched his progress, noting no impairment in his confident stride, not the least bit of clumsiness when he neatly sidestepped a woman who suddenly backed into his path. Still, judging by his behavior toward her, he must be feeling the effects of the champagne. He was as responsible as the day was long. Still, she was going to make sure he got a ride home.
She was dragged into the pool of single women for the bouquet-throwing. Annette gave her a sly smile, but if the bride had a specific target in mind, she was foiled by a pair of unlikely bouquet-nappers. Nell, who was Steve’s daughter and Annette’s seven-year-old maid of honor, teamed with Miss Trudi, an older woman dressed in flowing chiffon and sneakers, to capture the elegant collection of blush-and-cream roses.
Steve groaned as Nell immediately started describing a wedding extravaganza that would put a Super Bowl half-time show to shame. Miss Trudi, on the other hand, proclaimed that she wanted only the flowers, because they smelled a lot sweeter than any man she knew, and when they died you threw them out and got new ones.