The Best Man's Bride. Lisa Childs

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      Colleen blinked her eyes open again and met his gaze. In his eyes there was a flirtatious twinkle. All rational thought fled her mind.

      Probably used to women’s tongue-tied reactions, he grinned, and a deep dimple pierced one lean cheek. “I’m the best man.”

      He said it as if he was claiming more than his title in the wedding party. Although his arrogance came as no surprise, Colleen lifted a brow.

      “Then you’ll walk down the aisle with the maid of honor,” she said. The haughty tone of her own voice surprised her, and she swallowed a shocked gasp. Usually she spoke so soft and quietly that people asked her to repeat herself, if they even realized she’d said something in the first place.

      “I hope that’s you,” he said, flashing the dimpled grin at her.

      The volunteers and nurses at the hospital in Grand Rapids—where Nick was on staff and Colleen volunteered—would have been envious of Colleen receiving one of “Dr. Yummy’s” rare grins. Her knees, and other parts of her, quivered in reaction. But when she opened her mouth, the haughty voice said, “No, I’m not the maid of honor.”

      He pressed a hand against his heart as if she’d hurt him, but then he flashed the grin again and teased, “So you’re not a maid of honor?”

      Honor? An honorable person wouldn’t have let a friend take the blame for something she’d done, no matter what the circumstances. While Colleen fumbled for a response to his flirty question, Brenna bustled up.

      “Places, everyone,” she barked.

      NICK KICKED HIMSELF FOR whatever he’d said that had drained all the color from the brunette’s face and left her eyes dark, wide and haunted. She was so young, probably only in her early twenties. What could she possibly know of dishonor?

      “You’re Dr. Jameson,” said the redheaded bridesmaid who’d just joined them. She didn’t even give him a chance to respond before nudging him toward the front of the line.

      “We can switch, if he wants,” muttered the teenage boy Nick had met briefly before the kid, Rory McClintock, had skipped outside for air. The curly-haired kid took Nick’s place at the brunette’s side. “It’s lame to walk my sister down the aisle.”

      The boy was the bride’s brother, Nick knew. So the brown-haired bridesmaid must be her younger sister. All the McClintocks had the same basic coloring—dark hair, dark eyes. Nick could barely remember the bride’s name, let alone the names of all of her relatives. Of course Josh hadn’t known the girl, Mandy…Mindy…Molly—that was it. Josh hadn’t known Molly very long before he’d proposed. Not nearly long enough to decide to spend the rest of his life with her. But then, given Josh’s history, maybe he’d resigned himself to take however long he could get.

      Nick shook his head. He’d rather live alone than trust someone to love him forever. But Josh didn’t have the option of living alone—he had twin boys to raise. Buzz and TJ exploded into the hallway in a tangle of arms, legs and raised voices. With one word from the redhead, however, they fell into line.

      As the first notes of the wedding march pealed out, the maid of honor grabbed Nick’s arm and started down the aisle. Nick quickened his pace, to keep from being dragged. He glanced toward her and saw that no smile brightened her face or eyes. Her attitude matched his. Let’s get this over with.

      In a minute they’d reached the altar and she released his arm. Before stepping to the bride’s side, she stopped in front of Josh, who was waiting next to the minister. She drew an audible, shaky breath and then moved aside as Nick took his position behind Josh.

      Since they’d been kids, they’d watched each other’s backs: teaming up to conquer playground bullies in elementary school, studying together to pass physics in college, then supporting each other through med school. Now, in their venture into private practice, they remained best friends. Nick patted Josh’s shoulder, which was tense beneath his palm. Maybe he’d finally realized what a mistake he was making.

      “You can stop this,” Nick murmured, under the swell of organ music.

      Josh’s head swiveled toward him. He’d heard Nick’s comment and from his glare he didn’t think much of it. Of course Josh was too nice a guy to back out at the altar and humiliate the bride. The groom turned to face the aisle and so did Nick.

      The older brother of the bride, whom Nick had also met in the groom’s room, walked toward them with the blonde. When he left her, almost reluctantly, at the altar, he walked past Josh and then Nick before continuing around the side of the pews and heading for the back. To get the bride. Josh had explained that the bride’s dad had died eight years ago. So apparently Clayton McClintock pulled double duty as a groomsman and stand-in for father of the bride.

      Nick turned and focused on the brunette who walked down the aisle now, holding her younger brother’s arm. She wouldn’t have been that old when her dad died, probably not much older than her teenage brother was now. Nick winced in commiseration—not over his mother, whom he really didn’t remember. He’d lost someone else close to him when he’d been a teenager, however. If not for Josh and his friendship, Nick probably wouldn’t have survived that dark period. He owed Josh, and opening an office in Cloverville was small repayment.

      Who had she had to lean on when her dad died—her family, friends? Was she like him, in that she had never completely recovered from her loss? Maybe that was why, despite her haughty tone, he’d picked up on vulnerability—even a fragility—in her expressive eyes and delicate face.

      The sunshine streaming through the stained-glass windows highlighted the deep brown of her shimmering hair. His heart shifted, pressing against his ribs. Damn, she was beautiful.

      What was her name? Had he ever heard it? Probably. But he hadn’t cared. Then.

      Now he cared too much. As she released her brother’s arm, she peered briefly at Nick through her thick black lashes. Blood rushed through his veins, and he felt light-headed.

      No, he didn’t care. He just hadn’t had enough sleep or food in the past week—damn crazy shifts at the hospital. Maybe Josh was right; maybe the lighter hours of a private practice would be better for them both. Opening their own office wasn’t a new idea. They’d planned it since medical school. But Nick hadn’t thought they’d make the move quite so soon.

      The twins headed down the aisle next, having a tug-of-war over the ring bearer’s pillow; once white, it was now smudged with small, chocolate fingerprints. Josh needed more time with his kids. But what would Nick do with extra free time besides sleep? With an effort, he kept his focus on the aisle, refusing to give in to the urge to glance across the altar at the lissome brunette.

      Behind the boys, the flower girl walked at a much slower pace, carefully dropping red rose petals onto the white runner. Laughter at her diligence rippled over the wedding guests like the wave at a football game. The organ music intensified dramatically. Nick shuddered at what he’d always considered the ominous tone of the wedding march. The guests rose and turned toward the back of the church.

      Nick sure hoped he was wrong about Josh rushing to the altar. He wished a long, happy marriage for his best friend with a woman who would always love him and his sons. He hoped Molly McClintock was that woman.

      Like the guests, Nick turned toward the bride’s entrance. But the only person he saw was Clayton McClintock, standing alone on the СКАЧАТЬ