Three Brides, No Groom
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“There’s a grocery store not far from here,” he said. “I got us wieners and buns.”
Gretchen nodded, then self-consciously sat down on the end of a log and started to shake. Exhaling harshly, she raised her fingers to her head to investigate the damage. It wouldn’t have hurt to wait, she realized. In a couple of days she would be home, and a trained professional could have cut it. She could only guess how horrible she looked. Tears stung the back of her eyes.
“Give me the scissors,” Josh said gently.
She still had them clenched in her fist. He took them from her and sighed as he ran his fingers through the uneven tresses, his touch strangely intimate.
She swallowed tightly. “Roger insisted I keep it long,” she whispered. Cutting it had been an act of defiance, a way of casting her former fiancé from her life, but in doing so she’d only hurt herself.
Josh took his time clipping away here and there. At last he stood back to admire his handiwork. “Not bad,” he said with a slow smile. “Even if I do say so myself.”
Gretchen reached for her compact and flipped it open. With the light from the fire and the moon, she could see that his touch had been masterful. She barely recognized herself. She now wore a short pixielike cut that flattered her cheekbones and deep blue eyes.
Her gaze returned to Josh. “You’re a man of many talents. Thank you,” she murmured.
Her words appeared to please him. He reached for his knife and the stick he’d been sharpening earlier. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.”
Gretchen couldn’t have eaten if her life depended on it. She sat with her chin resting on her knees and studied the fire. “You go ahead. I’m not hungry.”
They sat side by side, surrounded by the sound of the ocean and the crackle of the fire as he cooked himself a wiener.
“Is it true what Roger said?” she wondered aloud. “About your father being in prison?” She wasn’t sure what had prompted the question. Probably she should never have asked.
Josh stilled. “Yes.” But he didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t question him further. Although he claimed to be hungry, he didn’t eat more than one hot dog. For a long time afterward he sat cross-legged on the blanket he’d brought, staring into the flames as though hypnotized.
“Josh,” she whispered, after the uncomfortable silence grew too long to bear. He didn’t look at her right away. She waited until he grudgingly gave her his attention. “I’m sorry. I had no business asking you about your father.”
Without acknowledging her apology, he rose to his feet and disappeared into the darkness. She watched him go, resisting the urge to go after him and apologize again. Angry with herself, she pressed her forehead against her knees and wondered how she could have been so insensitive to a man who’d been nothing but kind and helpful.
After the tumultuous events of the day, she was convinced she would never be able to sleep. She stretched out on the blanket, covered herself with a thick sweater and tucked her head against her bent arm. She was asleep almost immediately, only to jerk awake a moment later. That happened several more times before the physical demands of her body won out over the emotional trauma of the day.
Gretchen wasn’t sure at what point during the night Josh joined her. Her eyes fluttered open to see that the fire had died down to glimmering coals. She was on her back, and all she could see was the dense spattering of stars above. She rolled her head to one side and found Josh asleep on the other side of the blanket. Relieved that he was back, she rolled onto her side and tucked her sweater more closely about her shoulders.
The next thing she was aware of was the loud discordant cry of a seagull. She opened her eyes to gray light. To her surprise, she felt warm and cozy, although the fire had long since died out. She soon realized the source of her comfort. Josh had placed his leather jacket over her shoulders. He sat nearby, his hair apparently wet from a shower.
“What time is it?” she asked, lazily stretching her arms above her head and yawning.
He grinned. “Morning.”
“That much I guessed.” Raising herself on one elbow, she strained to see her watch.
“About five-thirty or six, I’d guess,” he said, looking toward the water.
She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then realized she was famished. Her stomach growled loudly. “Oh, dear,” she said, and flattened her hand against her abdomen.
“Looks like we’d best scrounge up something to eat,” he said. He stood and extended his hand to her. It took them a while to pack up everything. While he loaded up the Harley, she brushed her teeth in the rest room, put on some lip gloss and combed her hair, amazed again at the transformation the haircut made in her appearance. She doubted that Roger would even recognize her now.
When they rode into town and parked the Harley at a curb, another question came to mind, one she had a feeling Josh could answer. Needing someone to hold on to, she slipped her hand into his.
“How well do you know Didi Wilson?” she asked. She’d often seen Didi with Josh. She knew it was none of her concern. Nevertheless she needed to know.
His gaze narrowed, and his steps slowed. “How much did Didi tell you about her and Roger?”
She frowned, her hand still in his. “Just that…that she was at the fraternity party with him.”
Josh’s fingers tightened around hers.
“I don’t hate Didi,” she said, although it was difficult to regard the other woman with kindness. In many ways Didi had done her a favor, though it was difficult to think of it in those terms at that moment.
Josh heaved a deep sigh, and his hand tightened around hers. “Didi’s pregnant.”
“How can she know so soon?” Gretchen asked indignantly, and then it hit her. Hard. Square between the eyes. Roger hadn’t been with Didi Wilson just that one time but several. She closed her eyes and swayed with both shock and anger.
“How long have they been lovers?” she demanded. When he hesitated, she asked again, steeling herself for the answer. “Tell me, Josh. I have a right to know.”
“Six months, maybe more.”
She grimaced and clenched her free hand into a fist at her side. The entire time she’d been engaged to Roger, he’d been physically involved with Didi. It was enough to make her ill. She recalled all those afternoons he’d been late to meet her. It got to be a big joke between them. All the nights when he’d claimed he was studying. She should have known, should have realized. What about her friends? Her face burned with the realization that others must have known and yet no one had bothered to tell her.
As if reading her thoughts, Josh said, “Roger kept it quiet. I doubt anyone else knew.”
“You did,” she said.
“Didi’s my friend.”
But she noted he didn’t say how good a friend the woman was.
“Does Roger know about the baby?” she asked, once she found her voice.
“No.” Josh shook his head.
“Is Didi going to tell him?”
Again Josh paused. “I don’t know. That decision is hers.”
She studied him, and wondered if he had been Didi’s lover, too. If so, she didn’t want to know about it.
His grip on her hand relaxed. “Come on, you look like you could use a cup of coffee.” He led her to a café on the main street and held the door for her. Although it was still early, the place was busy. With a majority of the tables occupied, Josh opted to sit at the counter. Once they were settled, he handed Gretchen a menu.
The harried waitress cast them an apologetic smile as she raced by, her arms loaded down with plates. “I’ll be with you folks as soon as I can.”
“We’re in no hurry,” Josh assured her.
The woman returned a few minutes later with the coffeepot. “The other waitress called in sick at the last minute, along with the dishwasher. Mighty convenient case of the flu, if you ask me,” she said as she filled their cups.
The cook slapped the bell and set two more plates on the shelf. The waitress glanced over her shoulder and grumbled under her breath. “I’ll be back to take your order in a minute. I don’t want those breakfasts to get cold.”
“No problem,” Gretchen said.
Josh helped himself to a couple of doughnuts from a plate beneath a plastic dome. He handed one to Gretchen.
As the waitress moved past, Josh said to her, “Listen, if you’re shorthanded, I can wash dishes.”
The waitress hesitated.
“All I want in exchange is a decent breakfast for me and my friend.”
“Harry,” the waitress called into the kitchen. “We got ourselves a volunteer. The guy claims he can wash dishes.” She looked at Gretchen. “What about you, honey? Did you ever wait tables?”
Gretchen could see that Josh was about to answer for her. “Sure,” she said quickly, although it was a bald-faced lie. She brushed the doughnut crumbs from her hands and slipped off the stool.
“There’s an apron and an order pad behind the counter.”
“Great,” Gretchen said. She wasn’t at all sure she would be able to pull it off, but she was willing to try. She tossed Josh a saucy grin as she tied the apron around her waist. Then he disappeared into the kitchen.
“If you’d do the coffee refills, I’d appreciate it,” the waitress said, swishing past her. “Those tables need to be cleaned, too.” She pointed at two that had just emptied. “By the way, my name’s Marge.”
“I’m Gretchen.” She reached for the glass coffeepot. It didn’t demand a lot of skill to refill coffee cups around the room. Once she’d finished that, she found a large square tub and hauled it over to the vacated tables, then dumped the dirty dishes inside. After she wiped the surface clean and handed Marge her tip money, she turned to discover the tables had already filled up with new customers.
By the time the breakfast crowd had thinned out, it was midmorning. Gretchen sat down and counted her tips. She had collected close to twenty bucks.
“Sure do appreciate the help,” Marge said, sitting down next to her at the counter.
“Glad I could do it.”
Josh appeared from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dish towel.
“I’m so hungry I could eat a cow,” Gretchen said.
Marge winked at Josh, then looked toward the kitchen. “Harry, cook me up a couple of our best steaks, and don’t be frying up any of those skinny breakfast ones, either. These kids deserve T-bones.”
Chapter 3
Gretchen couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed a meal more, although she felt like a fraud accepting it. Her waitressing skills left a lot to be desired, and by the end of three hours her feet hurt, her back ached, and she had a new appreciation of the skills required to wait tables.
It was almost noon by the time they were back on the road. Unlike the previous day, when they’d ridden hour upon hour without a break, Josh stopped every ten or fifteen miles, wherever there was a scenic overlook. Gretchen had traveled down the Oregon coast any number of times and found the scenery breathtaking. But nothing compared to viewing the magnificence on a bright sunny day in June from the back of Josh’s Harley. It went a long way, in fact, to assuaging the ache in her heart.
She didn’t want to think about Roger or the wedding, and yet they filled every corner of her mind. She didn’t mention his name, not once, during any of their stops, but she talked about everything else without pausing for breath. Josh’s patience was nothing short of miraculous. She couldn’t remember ever being so talkative. She told him story upon story of growing up in San Francisco. She endlessly bragged about her older brother, and dragged out four or five pictures of her eighteen-month-old niece.
At each stop Josh would sit on the rock-wall railing with his back to the ocean and listen as if he’d never heard anything more fascinating. Gretchen wished she’d paid more attention in psychology class so she could appreciate what was happening to her. Could analyze it and stop this infernal chattering.
He rarely commented, just sat and listened, nodding and smiling now and again. Their last stop to view the scenery was Rockaway Beach. While standing in the glorious sunshine, looking out over the relentless surf, she started laughing as she told a story about her niece. She’d asked Jazmine to get her a pair of shoes, and the toddler had promptly delivered every pair Gretchen owned.
As she neared the end of the tale, her laughter altered and unexpected tears flooded into her eyes. “I…I don’t know why I’m going on like this,” she said when she found it impossible to hide what was happening.
“I know why.” He stood and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. Then, with a tenderness that made her want to weep even more, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s all right, Gretchen. Go ahead and cry. You’re hurting. The man you loved isn’t the person you thought he was.”
Like water through a burst dam, her sobs broke free. They seemed to surge upward from the deepest part of her, until it wasn’t only her shoulders that shook but her entire body. She tried to break away from Josh, but he wouldn’t allow it. He pressed her closer, murmuring words of comfort all the while.
She clung to him, burying her head against his shoulder, letting him absorb her anger and hurt. The roar of the ocean slamming against the rocks seemed to echo her pain.
Once her energy was spent and her sobs turned to sniffles, she eased away, keeping her head lowered in embarrassment. He would have none of it. He tucked his index finger beneath her chin, raised her head and met her eyes.
“It’s all right,” he said.
A slight smile trembled at the corners of her mouth, and she nodded.
“I give up.” The words were half whisper and half groan. As soon as he said them, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was slow and deep, so deep she felt it all the way to her toes. Intense, yet incredibly tender.
After a moment Josh slid his fingers into her short hair, cupping the sides of her head as he angled his mouth over hers, urging her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. He sighed when, in a daze, she accepted his invitation and opened for him. Shyly her tongue met his, but gradually she gained confidence as the kissing continued. What had begun as a slow easy exercise quickly became demanding and urgent.
She wasn’t sure what would have happened if a car hadn’t pulled off the highway just then. Hearing the sound of wheels grinding against the gravel, Josh broke off contact. He studied her for a moment.
“You OK?” he asked, touching his forehead to hers while holding her face between his hands.
She nodded, not knowing how else to answer him. But she wasn’t OK. She’d been weeping for one man and kissing another. And liking it so much she hadn’t wanted to stop. She glared at the new arrivals, wishing they would leave, then realized how ridiculous she was being.
“We better get back on the road,” Josh said, steering her toward the Harley.
Although she followed him silently, her mind brewed with half-formed questions. First and foremost she wanted to know what had prompted him to kiss her. She didn’t want his pity, but at the same time, she knew she would be a fool to believe any part of that soul-stirring kiss had been because he felt sorry for her.
Once she was safely tucked behind him on the Harley, he started the bike and steered them back onto the road. The wind whipped against her face, and she closed her eyes. Josh was dangerous—that was what she’d always heard. Now she knew why. The danger wasn’t his arrogance, the way he challenged authority or defied danger. It was the effortless way he could make a woman feel desirable.
They didn’t stop again for what seemed like hours. The day before she had held herself away from Josh, her spine rigid, determined to minimize any physical contact. Not so now. Her grip around his waist was tight; she craved the physical reassurance of his solid body.
Josh stopped in Tillamook when they hit a red light. “You hungry?” he asked.
She realized, somewhat to her surprise, that she was. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Then, knowing their finances were limited, she asked, “What can we afford?”
“Cheese.”
“Cheese?” While she knew neither one of them had a lot of cash, she didn’t think they were in dire straits.
“Some of the best in the country. I’ll show you.”
Tillamook was home to a huge dairy-products factory. She smiled and flattened her cheek against his back, grateful to have him for a friend. It felt good and right to be this close to him. Her entire four years of college, she’d barely talked to him. By any reasonable measure they were little more than strangers, yet she felt closer to him after these two days together than she did to some of her sorority sisters with whom she’d lived for years.
Josh turned left at the next light and then pulled into a large bustling parking lot. The building was enormous, complete with gift shop, touring areas, and plenty of free samples of a surprisingly large selection of cheeses and ice cream. He purchased a box of crackers, some cheese and a bottle of red wine.
“For a picnic,” he explained, as they headed back to the bike. He smiled, and it was such a rare thing it caught her unawares.
“You should do that more often,” she said, as she fastened the strap of her helmet. At the question in his eyes, she said, “Smile.”
His response was to frown, drawing his thick eyebrows together and darkening his face. Not for the first time, she was struck by what an attractive man he was. She wasn’t alone, either. In the cheese factory, she had noticed a number of women openly assessing him. Apparently they liked what they saw. For his part, he appeared oblivious to the attention his looks generated.
Seeing him now, wearing that well-practiced scowl, she couldn’t help it, she laughed outright. It was all for show. Beneath that dark brooding exterior lay a man with a kind and generous heart. A man she was only beginning to know, yet already liked immensely.
“What?” he demanded.
“You. Let’s get moving, pal. I’m hungry.”
He grumbled something she couldn’t hear under his breath and climbed on the Harley. Without hesitation, she positioned herself behind him and automatically locked her arms around his middle. It felt so right and natural to be close to him. Less than twenty-four hours earlier she’d made the most daring move of her life by trusting him to deliver her home safely. And trust him she did, more with each passing hour.
Josh found them a quiet corner on a secluded section of beach. The afternoon was glorious. The ocean breeze was blessedly cool, and a thicket of tall grass rustled softly behind them.
They sat on the blanket, nibbling the cheese and crackers, and sipping the wine from plastic glasses. After a while, replete, Gretchen lay on her back and gazed at the sky. She was amazed by how tranquil, how at peace, she felt. Stretching her arms above her, she smiled lazily. All she could hear were the waves pounding the shore and the frantic cries of gulls.
The wine seemed to have loosened her inhibitions—at least that was what she blamed for the path her thoughts were traveling.
“Josh, can I ask you something?” she said.
An uncomfortable silence followed. Uncomfortable enough to cause her to turn her head and look at him. He was sitting with his arms braced behind him. “You don’t want me to ask you anything?” Surely he would want to know the question and then decide if he would answer it.
His frown was back, darker and more intimidating than ever. “Are you looking for me to apologize for kissing you?”
“No!” If he did, she would be offended. Her response to his kiss had been relegated to the far reaches of her mind. She needed time to analyze what had prompted her heady reaction, but she wasn’t up to a lengthy examination just yet.
“What, then?” He crossed his arms.
She closed her eyes and angled her face toward the sun rather than look at him. “Never mind,” she said, silently laughing at him. “It wasn’t important.”
“Ask me,” he barked.
She rolled onto her stomach and trained her gaze on the ocean. “It has to do with Didi Wilson.”
“What about her?”
Gretchen paused, unsure now that she wanted to proceed, but the need burned within her, and she knew she wouldn’t be completely at peace until she discovered the answer. Besides, at this point she couldn’t walk away from the subject gracefully. She inhaled and held her breath momentarily. “I realize it’s none of my business…”
“Listen, if it has to do with Didi and Roger, I’d rather not—”
“No,” she said, interrupting him. “Not them. This has to do with Didi and you.” Her words were like a hatchet coming down on a chopping block.
His gaze pinned her. She exhaled sharply and blurted, “Have you…did you and Didi…you know…do that?” She couldn’t make herself say the words. Make love. Did you make love to Didi? Her heart was laid open, exposed, revealing everything. Over the past six months she’d frequently seen Didi riding through the campus on the back of Josh’s Harley. Her arms had squeezed him, her ample assets pressed against his back.
Now she knew that Josh hadn’t been Didi’s only love interest. With a shock, she realized that while the news of Didi and Roger had shattered her world, if she learned that Josh had been Didi’s lover, as well, she would be devastated. She should have known better than to ask a question when she was afraid of the answer.
“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to know,” she said hurriedly, then leaped to her feet, kicked off her shoes and raced toward the surf. Her face burned with humiliation, but she had no one to blame but herself. She raced into the ocean, gasping at how cold it was. The surf surged against her thighs before she stopped running. Her pulse pounded in her temple.
“Gretchen!”
She heard Josh call, but she ignored him. The lunch that had made her feel so pleasantly replete now felt like a rock-hard lump in the pit of her stomach.
“Come on, Gretchen, would you listen to me?” He stood at the water’s edge, glaring at her.
“I shouldn’t have asked,” she said. “It was none of my business. Please, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” She pranced about in the shallows, trying to make him think she was having the time of her life.
“Stop that right now.” It was the same tone of voice her father used to employ with her when she was a child and misbehaving. A tone full of authority she didn’t challenge.
She stopped playing in the surf and faced him.
“Didi’s my friend,” he said. “Nothing more. Never has been and never will be. Understand?”
She nodded miserably.
Josh extended his hand to her in much the same way he had the day before, when he’d invited her to climb onto the back of his motorcycle. “Come here before you’re completely drenched.”
The water was so cold her feet had gone numb. Mustering every shred of dignity she possessed, she remained where she was, her chin angled high and proud. How desperately she longed to believe him!
“Don’t make me come in after you.”
“Would you?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, but trust me, you’d regret it.”
The threat was as bold as the man himself. “Really?” She reached down and with feigned nonchalance dangled her fingers in the water.
The challenge was there, bold as ever. The confidence he’d exuded didn’t waver as he lowered himself onto the hot sand and removed his boots one at a time. Then he stood and unfastened his belt.
“Josh.” She watched, fascinated.
“I’m not getting these jeans wet. It’s uncomfortable riding in wet pants.” He peeled down the zipper and hooked his thumbs through the belt loops, clearly prepared to remove both his jeans and his underwear.
“Okay, okay. You win.” She raced out of the surf and onto the beach, heading for the blanket. She heard him chuckle and call her a coward as she passed him.
His taunts evolved into a sexy smile as he followed her back to the blanket. It had been a childish thing to do, she thought, challenging him that way. Especially when the outcome had already been decided. Josh would win because he always won.