The Wedding Secret

So full of the kind of promises he stopped believing in long ago.

Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled back. She made a token sound of protest as their lips drew apart, but her hands fell away and her eyes never opened. Giving in to the exhaustion he knew she’d been fighting, she settled back into his pillow. With a soft, dreamy sigh she drifted off to sleep, leaving Garrett to wonder if she’d remember any of this in the morning.

Probably not.

Hopefully not.

With a groan that seemed to reverberate through Jenna’s aching head, she rolled to her side and pried her eyes open against the sunlight filtering into the room…and stared into the face of a pretty little girl with long, straight blond hair Jenna instantly envied, inquisitive green eyes, and a contemplative expression. The girl was on her knees at the side of the bed, elbows propped on the mattress, and her chin bracketed between her palms, as if she’d been there for a while, waiting for Jenna to wake up.

“Why are you sleeping in my daddy’s bed?” she asked, more curious than accusing.

Not recognizing the girl and startled by her question, Jenna’s heart leapt in her chest as she frantically searched her disoriented, foggy memory, trying to remember where she was, and how she’d gotten in this strange room and this large bed that seemed to envelop her in a subtle, masculine scent she recognized as belonging to the prince who’d rescued her last night.

Jenna squeezed her eyes shut. Last night, and the devastating events that led to her fleeing to a town where no one knew her flooded her memory like a tidal wave. She’d been so overwhelmed by shame that she’d leapt into the limousine waiting to take her and Sheldon to the country club for their reception, and hysterically ordered the chauffeur to Just drive! She hadn’t cared to where, just so long as she put as many miles as she could between her and the disgraceful past she couldn’t seem to escape. A past that would forever haunt her. A past that marred her chances of ever being respected, or respectable. What made her believe she could fit in to Sheldon’s affluent life and be the wife to a prominent surgeon? She’d tried to conform, but she couldn’t erase the mistake she’d made. His well-to-do family and their elite circle of friends weren’t willing to dismiss what she’d done, either.

An hour outside of St. Louis, in the small town of Danby, the annoyed limo driver had pulled into the parking lot of Leisure Pointe and informed her that he hadn’t been paid to take her on a trek across Missouri. Knowing there was nothing left for her in St. Louis, she’d climbed out of the limousine, entered the rowdy establishment, and sank despondently into a booth in a far corner—feeling more heavy-hearted and isolated than ever.

She remembered faceless men sending Amaretto her way. She remembered the bartender keeping those same hounds at bay when it was obvious she wanted to be left alone. She remembered Garrett, with his deep, dark blue eyes, and the way he’d made her feel safe and secure when she’d believed she’d never feel safe and secure again.

Her hand fluttered to her lips, and her belly tumbled, not from the aftereffects of consuming too much Amaretto, but from something far more pleasant, and far more frightening. Most of all, she remembered kissing her gorgeous, raven-haired prince and the sweet, tender acceptance that had filled her in that fleeting moment.

And then she remembered nothing as deep sleep consumed her. Jenna felt a gentle tug on her hair, prompting her to leave her private thoughts behind and lift her lashes to deal with her unexpected visitor. The little girl had a strand of Jenna’s hair corkscrewed around her finger, seemingly fascinated with the way it clung so naturally.

“How come you’re sleeping in my daddy’s bed?” she asked again, more insistent this time.

Still absorbing the surprise of finding a pixie watching over her, she chose her answer carefully. “Well, I needed a place to sleep for the night, and your daddy let me use his bed.” That much she remembered.

“Oh.” Her little nose scrunched up as she thought about that. “And you’re wearing his shirt, too.”

She glanced down, confirming that the nightshirt she wore wasn’t the silky chemise she’d packed for her honeymoon. More memories tumbled through her foggy mind, of Garrett helping her to undress, and the intensity in his deep blue eyes…

The little imp tilted her head to the side. “What’s your name?”

“Jenna.” She offered a small smile. “What’s yours?”

“Chelsea Blackwell.” Pushing away from the bed, she strolled over to the froth of satin draped over the chair in the corner of the room and stroked her hand over the shimmery material. “This is like a fairy princess dress,” she said in awe.

Too bad her dreams hadn’t come true like they did in fairy tales, Jenna thought, unable to fend off the sharp sting of disappointment she experienced. “It’s a wedding dress,” she said in a tight, achy voice.

“Did my daddy marry you?” Chelsea glanced back at Jenna, her green, guileless eyes round with hope. “Are you my new mom?”

Jenna immediately shook her head to ward off the child’s line of questioning. “No, your dad didn’t marry me, honey, and I’m not your new mom.” Gingerly sitting up, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and waited for her head to stop spinning. She hated bursting the little girl’s bubble of excitement, and offered the only consolation that came to mind. “But I’d like to be your friend.”

“Okay.” Seemingly satisfied with that compromise, Chelsea grinned, revealing a dimple in her right cheek. “Does that mean you’re staying here?”

Jenna honestly didn’t know what she was going to do, and hoped over the next few weeks she’d be able to figure out which direction her life would now take. No matter her decision, she doubted it encompassed staying in this house with Garrett and this adorable little girl.

Before she could formulate a response, booted steps echoed up the stairs, then her prince from last night entered the room. In the light of day, and without any alcohol to impair her brain or vision, she came to the stunning conclusion that he was even more gorgeous than she recalled. Dressed in faded jeans that molded to his lean hips and a casual shirt that was fitted to a nicely muscled chest, he exuded a rugged masculinity that was a sharp contrast to the preppie, button-down image Sheldon and his friends preferred. This man was earthy and physical, with jet-black hair that set off his striking blue eyes, and a sensually cut mouth that made him all the more breathtaking and much too appealing.

Though his demeanor was reserved and distant, his warm gaze swept over her, taking in her disheveled hair, and making her all too aware that she was wearing his shirt. His eyes lingered briefly on her bare legs, prompting restless memories of him removing her stockings, and his hands caressing her skin.

Then he glanced toward Chelsea. A smiled curved his lips, softening his expression and captivating Jenna even more.

“Hey, there you are, pup,” he said, his deep voice rich with affection. “I wondered where you’d disappeared to.”

“I came in here to make your bed and found Jenna sleeping in it.” She hurried over to her father, clasped her hands together beneath her chin, and looked up at him beseechingly. “Can she stay with us? Pretty please?”

“She’s not a stray pet for you to keep,” he said with gentle humor. “Jenna only needed a place to stay for the night, and I’m sure now that she’s rested, she’ll be heading back home.” He tapped a finger beneath Chelsea’s chin. “Why don’t you go downstairs to the kitchen and I’ll be there in a few minutes to make breakfast.”

Chelsea did as she was told, and once she was gone, the room filled with silence. Jenna’s gaze connected with Garrett’s, and her stomach fluttered, not with nausea, but an awareness that took her completely off guard. The last thing she needed to deal with was this unexpected attraction to a man she barely knew, not when she was trying to come to terms with everything that had happened yesterday, along with her uncertain future.

She drew a stabilizing breath. “I take it ‘pup’ is your daughter?”

He nodded, and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable now that they were alone. “Yeah, she’s mine,” he replied, an odd, possessive note to his voice. “I call her pup because ever since she took her first step she’s followed me around like a puppy.”

It wasn’t difficult to imagine Chelsea tagging along behind her father. Though Garrett’s parental love was unmistakable, and his daughter’s devotion just as strong, there was no physical resemblance between the two. His pitch-black hair and vivid blue eyes were an obvious contrast to Chelsea’s blond hair, green eyes, and fair, enchanting features.

“Chelsea must look like her mother,” she said, speaking her thoughts out loud and attempting to make idle conversation.

Her comment startled him, and his dark brows drew into a frown. “No, not really,” he muttered.

His curt tone didn’t invite further discussion of Chelsea’s mother, and Jenna decided the best course of action would be to steer clear of the subject, which appeared to be a touchy one. “Well, your daughter is sweet, and adorable. And very precocious. She thought you and I got married.”

He visibly winced, but remained across the room, keeping an appropriate amount of distance between them. “Chelsea’s mom died when she was barely two, so she doesn’t remember much about her, and lately she’s been asking for a mother. I suppose seeing your wedding dress and finding you in my bedroom led her to the wrong conclusion.”

“It was a very hopeful conclusion,” she said softly, understanding the little girl’s need to replace her missing parent. Jenna had grown up never knowing her father, and though her mother had been a good single parent despite their struggles, she’d never had a dependable male influence in her life, and that was a loss she still felt.

“Well, it’s best that she doesn’t entertain those kinds of thoughts, and I don’t encourage them, either,” he replied meaningfully. “How are you feeling?” he asked, smoothly and effectively changing the topic once again.

“A little fuzzy, but overall okay, all things considered.” She dragged her fingers through her tousled hair, feeling contrite for disrupting his life, even for one day. “Garrett…I’m very sorry about last night.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He shrugged those broad shoulders of his. “You weren’t in any shape to go anywhere and I gave you a place to stay.”

“No doubt I ruined your evening. I intruded on your home life and family, and I even slept in your bed. And from the bits and pieces that I can remember, I know I made a fool of myself at the bar.”

She recalled babbling on about silly things like hating her curly hair and making wishes to marry her own prince charming and living happily ever after—not that Garrett would understand the hopes and dreams she’d carried with her since childhood.

She ducked her head, and absently toyed with the hem of the shirt she wore. “And contrary to my behavior last night, I’m not in the habit of kissing strangers.”

Except Garrett hadn’t felt like a stranger. He’d been warm and receptive, and no matter how wrong, she found it difficult to regret that sweet, tender kiss, which had made her feel so safe and secure. There had been no pretenses, no expectations, just the kind of acceptance she’d craved for so long.

And Garrett probably thought she was a brazen hussy for allowing such liberties just hours after leaving her groom at the altar.

Shaking her head of those thoughts, she lifted her gaze back to his. “I am sorry about that kiss,” she said softly.

“No, I’m the one who should apologize.” Though his tone held a gruff certainty, his irises had taken on a dark, sensual shade of blue that belied his attempt at disinterest. “It won’t happen again.”

He sounded so determined, Jenna couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, possibly, he’d been just as affected by that kiss as she’d been.