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Even Wolfe's texts were ignored more and more. David would regularly check her phone to make sure no one was bothering her from the hospital. Sure, she tried explaining that her phone was personal, but when he got upset and subtly suggested she was trying to hide something, she gave in. The consistent texts from Wolfe made David question the whole basis of their relationship. After all, if her best male friend wasn't her future husband, what chance did they have at making a marriage work?
It had made sense at the time. Right? Yet she never really told Wolfe what was going on. She just stopped responding until their communication slowed to a dribble.
Confusion swamped her. She didn't know what was right or wrong anymore. Today had been amazing. She'd forgotten how much fun it was to let the day guide you. Meeting new people without worrying if she was flirting or giving off mistaken vibes. Being silly and impulsive without being gently scolded. It was almost as if she'd escaped from prison.
Was that what she equated David with? Prison? He'd never done anything to hurt her. Never, ever hit her. He'd been patient, and told her every day how much he loved her, lived for her, and dedicated his time to making sure they had a perfect relationship.
"Gen?"
She shivered again. Funny, Wolfe had said her name a million times over the years, but lately it sounded more intimate. A low, sexy growl. Is that how he acted with the women he took to bed? She knew he liked a bit of domination. Did he grip her wrists and whisper in her ear while he pounded inside her, taking her on a wild ride where nothing else mattered but orgasm?
"You're blushing."
Gen grasped her water glass and chugged. She was officially losing her mind. She'd never fantasized about Wolfe in bed before. Not like . . . that. Then again, her emotions were so raw and strange, she shouldn't be surprised. She pulled herself together and forced herself to meet his gaze.
"Just got warm. Wolfe?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry."
He lifted a brow. "For what?"
"Letting you go." The shock in his blue eyes startled her. So vivid and naked, delving deep inside and plumbing every secret she had. Her thighs tightened as sudden lust struck her right between her legs. "I--I didn't realize what I was really doing. David was angry over our closeness, so I stopped texting you and following through. It seemed easier that way. I started to pull away from the girls, too, but he got focused on you and used to ask if--if we were fooling around. He got mad when you called. I didn't know what to do so I began ignoring you."
He leveled her with his gaze, taking in her halfhearted apology. How awful would she feel if Wolfe suddenly replaced her because his new girlfriend was jealous? She'd be hurt. Angry. Resentful. Not once had he ever spoken badly about David, or gotten pissy with her. All those dates she broke at Mugs, and calls never returned.
The loss of her friend washed over her.
"I understand, sweetheart. I do. Gonna have to be honest here and admit it stung. I felt like I was losing you, but didn't know what to do. What the hell did I know? I never had a serious relationship."
She swallowed past her shame, but once again, with his truth came acceptance. "Can you forgive me?"
"If you promise not to dump me again for the next best thing. Especially Ed."
He smiled, and her heart exploded. She loved his smile. The stark features in his face softened, and she never felt so cherished as when she was receiving such affection. "Never," she whispered.
"Deal."
They finished their food and she pushed her plate away. Time to dive into the only subject left undiscussed. She gathered her courage. "How bad is it?"
Wolfe didn't pretend to misunderstand. "The calls? I told Kate and Alexa we need some time. I turned my phone off this morning."
She winced. "I left everyone with a mess. I'm such a coward."
"If you were a coward, you would've walked down the aisle and married him. Say that again about yourself and I'll have to teach you a lesson."
She choked out a laugh. "Yeah, you're real scary."
"I can be." Their gazes locked and she swallowed. There was another side of her friend leaking out, one she'd never really seen before. It made her a bit uneasy.
And hot.
"I have to go back."
"Of course you're going back. But you needed space so you could figure out why you really left. Let me be clear. You're walking back into a clusterfuck. Questions, accusations, family chaos, and David trying to manipulate you. If you don't have your head clear, you may do something you regret. Go back on your own terms."
She pushed trembling hands through her hair. "I know. I've never done anything like this before. I do the right thing. I don't screw up."
"Life is messy. Get over it."
Her mouth dropped open. Then she laughed. "You so don't have the friendly female touch. I need Kate."
"You need truth. Dig deeper, Gen. I'll be next to you when we get back, but if you need more time, take it. Hell, we can get in the car and head to Lake George. Leave everything behind us."
The thought was so deliciously tempting. A road trip of extremes, like Thelma and Louise. Kind of. No running from the law, of course, but still a buddy movie. "If I did that, I'd probably go to hell. Everybody will hate me."
"Not the ones who matter."
Her mind raced. Could she? Just disappear from the world a few more days, hitting the road in an endless twist of empty highways and the next adventure? Her soul leaped with joy. Yes, she may go to hell. Yes, she was the most horrible person on the planet. But she could do this, buy more time, get her head straight before diving into the mess. She'd call Kate and Alexa tonight and explain. To be anonymous and part of the world without worrying about being beautiful and charming and intelligent. Just to be.
Hope exploded. "You're right," she said, trembling with excitement. "Let's do it. Just a few more days."
He grinned. "That's my girl."
"I'll call home when we get back to the cabin so no one panics."
The waiter placed the bill down, leaned forward to collect the plates, and froze. His gaze roved over her features as if trying to commit them to memory. "You look so familiar. Do we know each other?"
She studied him with a frown. Light hair. Dark eyes. Beautiful olive skin. A bit younger than her, but Gen didn't recognize him. "No, I'm sorry, I don't think so." Wolfe handed him a credit card, which he snapped into place inside the folder.
"Sorry, it's the strangest thing, almost as if I saw you before. I apologize for the intrusion."
"No need." She smiled as he left to ring them up. Wolfe looked amused. "What?"
"Another admirer like the one at the track?"
She rolled her eyes. "Cut it out. Ed was sweet."
"And after you big-time. You know what line his buddies were coaching him with."
"What?"
"Quickest way over a woman is under the next one."
She laughed. "Sounds like something Kennedy would say."
The waiter glided back, set the bill down for Wolfe's signature, and beamed. "Now I know! You're in the paper!"
An icy foreboding slunk into her veins. Her mouth grew dry. "What paper?"
"The Saratoga Herald. You're the runaway bride!"
Wolfe jumped up from the table, threw the signed receipt down, and grabbed her hand. "Keep your mouth shut, buddy, or I'll do more than yank your tip. Understood?"
The waiter gulped, realizing his error, and nodded. "Sorry, sir. So sorry."
Wolfe didn't answer. Her body felt like glue, stuck to the ground and so stiff she couldn't move. Not that she needed to. He wrapped his fingers around her elbow and guided her out, until the hot air rushed over her and she suddenly gulped for oxygen.
"Bend over. Hands on your knees."
She did, gasping for more air, trying to calm her racing heart while the waiter's words burned in her brain. Runaway bride. Newspaper.
Oh, God.
She tried to speak, failed, and finally got out the
words. "Need to see it."
"Gen--"
"Need to see it. Now."
His fingers tightened around her flesh in punishment. The slight pain cut through the panic and centered her, until she was brave enough to unfold and stand at full posture.
"Stay here."
She waited on the darkened sidewalk. The moon shimmered amid the mountain peaks, the blue-black sky a gorgeous streak of art. A couple walked past her, laughing softly, and went inside. Gen wrapped her arms around her chest until he came back out with the paper. He didn't speak, and the worried light in his eyes told her it was bad.
She unfolded it and read the headline:
"Surgeon Scalped at Altar."
Her engagement photo mocked her. Glowing in a white linen suit, hair curled and twisted up in a sophisticated knot, she clasped hands with David, who gazed adoringly into her face.
The picture next to it showed the packed church, endless roses bursting from spaces, glittering candelabras, and her father patting David on the shoulder, who grinned broadly in excitement.
