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His One And Only Bride
His One And Only Bride
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His One And Only Bride

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“I guess Tim is a good choice...” Bethany’s voice trailed off.

“But?”

“He’s a firefighter. Why do you pick guys who run to danger?”

Why, indeed?

“Forget I said anything. If you like him, that’s good enough for me.”

“I do,” Zoe insisted. “He’s a nice guy.”

“But he doesn’t get your pulse racing?”

“Been there. Had the broken marriage to prove it. Next time, I’m going for solid and steady.”

Bethany snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Yeah, Zoe had a thing for thrill-seekers. Could it be because she lived vicariously through them? How’s that working out for you?

Not well.

Bethany frowned. “My folks are sending me the stink eye. Gotta run.”

It took everything in Zoe not to turn toward Mr. and Mrs. Donahue. Since the ill-fated robbery when Zoe and Bethany were young teens, they hadn’t wanted much to do with her. Unconsciously, she rubbed her arm, her fingers brushing over the raised scar.

Growing up, she’d based the idea of what a family should look like by the Donahues’ example. Bethany’s parents had normal jobs, normal hours and normal relationships, while Zoe had cooked her own meals and basically ran her mother’s life. Even today, she missed the security of their home, the comfort of their friendship, a life she’d been a part of for too short a period of time.

A waiter passed by again. The zesty scent of mac and cheese, served in little porcelain ramekin bowls, drew her from her thoughts. She wandered around the room, admiring the wildflower theme carried over from the wedding. Each table resembled a picnic table with yellow gingham cloths covered with burlap and lace runners. The centerpiece consisted of a small galvanized bucket with overflowing greens and wildflowers, surrounded by candles flickering in mason jars. Fat water goblets and white plates with yellow napkins circled by a wooden holder adorned each place setting. Simple and inviting. Very Lilli.

A riser had been assembled at the far end of the room for Luke Hastings’s band to set up their instruments to play after dinner. The opposite wall boasted a large window overlooking the hotel pool. From there, the hotel lawn swept down to the beach. There was a wooden outdoor deck on the far side of the building with an amazing view of the sand and water beyond. Truth be told, the private deck was her favorite place at the hotel. With today’s temperate weather, Zoe imagined the party would eventually spill outside.

“There you are.” Tim came up beside her, handing her a glass. She took a sip of the sparkling wine, suddenly at a loss for conversation.

Guilt itched over her. She shouldn’t be thinking about the past when she was on a date. “Sorry about before.”

“No need to explain.”

There was, but she kept quiet.

“Pretty room,” Tim said.

“Yes. Nealy did a stellar job as usual. Between her event planning company and her boyfriend owning this hotel, they’re a real power couple.”

Silence fell between them and she took another sip.

“When do you think the wedding party will get here?”

“Soon, I would imagine.”

Tim shook his head, gazing around the room.

Yeah, this had turned awkward.

“The only thing that would top this day is if I get called out to a fire. A real date-killer.”

Zoe laughed. She knew Tim wasn’t on duty, but appreciated his attempt at levity. If he could try, she would, too.

“Or I could get called into an impromptu late Saturday afternoon town council meeting, because we all know council people have nothing better to do than call weekend meetings.”

He chuckled and sent her a warm smile.

Should she take his hand in hers to reassure him they were fine, or was that rushing things? It had been so long since she’d dated; she was definitely rusty. Just take the plunge. She could do this.

“Ah, the life we live as public servants,” he said.

Actually, a public life hadn’t turned out all that bad. She gave to the town and her work brought a sense of satisfaction. She was keeping Cypress Pointe a good place to live, work and raise a family, ensuring that nothing threatened this quiet community she treasured. She didn’t imagine her motivation would ever be swayed.

As she looked around for a place to set down her glass, deciding to take his hand and finally show Tim she wanted their relationship to move to the next level, the volume level in the room rose. Guests shifted to the open doorway.

“Must be the happy couple now,” Tim commented.

Her timing stunk. To cover her disappointment, she said, “Now we can get this party started. Have I told you I like to dance?”

“I believe you have.”

Thankful to get this date back on an even keel, Zoe joined in the clapping as the bride and groom made their grand entrance. Toasts were offered. The meal was just about to be served when she noticed a new face appear in the crowd. Wyatt Hamilton, Mitch’s best friend, searched the crowd until his gaze landed on her. With a determined air about him, he worked his way across the room. What on earth could he want? She’d noticed him at the church earlier, but he’d left through the backdoor before the ceremony started, talking on his cell phone. Then Zoe had gotten busy and hadn’t given his exit a second thought. At the time, she figured he was talking to his girlfriend, Jenna, the caterer for this reception. From his serious expression and focused stride, a note of worry scurried over her.

“Zoe, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

She reached for her phone and came up empty-handed, which was highly unusual since she always kept her phone nearby when Leo was with a sitter. “I must have left my bag in the truck.”

He nodded at her explanation. “I need to borrow you.”

Tim stepped closer. “Right now?”

Wyatt sent him a dark look. “It’s important.”

Zoe grabbed Wyatt’s sleeve. “Is it Leo? Is something wrong?”

His expression gentled. “No. Not at all. I’m sure Leo is fine.”

Zoe let out a breath, then met Wyatt’s gaze. “What’s up?”

“Come with me.”

Beyond curious, Zoe turned to Tim. “I’ll be back as soon as this mystery is solved.”

Frustration crossed Tim’s face. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Thanks, Tim.” Zoe glanced at Wyatt again. Something was off and she wanted to find out what was bothering him.

Wyatt cocked his head toward the door leading to the backyard outdoor area. Zoe passed by him and then he fell into step beside her as they approached the pool, the chlorine heavy and pungent. A few folks lingered at the open-air cafe, but most guests were inside enjoying the party.

“Care to give me a heads-up?” she said once they were out of hearing distance from the crowd.

“You’ll understand in a moment.”

Tendrils of unease trickled down her spine. “You’re making me nervous.”

His quick smile put her marginally at ease. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Really? Does Jenna know what you’re up to?”

“Yes. And she’s with me on this.”

“Okay. Lead on.”

They continued walking. Once they reached the arch exiting to the cement pathway that led to the far deck, he stopped. “Go on out there.”

“What?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You got me this far and now I’m on my own?”

“It’s not my place.”

She stood her ground.

“It’s important.”

Disconcerted by this clandestine mission, she reluctantly made her way along the path. Tall sea oats swayed in the gentle breeze. A seagull squawked before diving for its prey. Out here, briny seawater tinted the air. As she grew closer, she noticed a tall figure standing on the far side of the deck, his back to her as he looked over the natural vista spreading out before him. She hesitated as fear gripped her. Surely, Wyatt wouldn’t have brought her here if it weren’t safe.

The solitary man remained still. Zoe’s heart began to pound. She didn’t have it in her to stop, as if an invisible force shoved her closer to her destination.

The man turned around.

She slowed her steps, wary now.

When he removed his aviator-shaped sunglasses, she gasped, her knees nearly buckling beneath her.

“Hello, Zoe,” the stranger standing before her said.

She blinked. It couldn’t be, could it? How could it be?

“Mitch?” she whispered past the obstruction in her taut throat.

“Yes. It’s me.”

The husband she’d thought was dead stood before her, very much alive.

Chapter Two (#u0e90e2ff-c19c-58c0-b7c7-b9ed57ff5b2d)

MITCH HAD EXPECTED his wife’s surprise. After all, to her, he’d risen from the dead.

His hand gripped the cane that had become his lifeline. He wanted to heave it over the railing, but that meant lifting an arm that still needed rehab to function properly. Instead of cataloguing his injuries, he focused on his shell-shocked wife.

“I don’t understand. We were told... I thought you were...”

“Dead?”

She reached out to place her palms on the deck railing.

“The report was mistaken.”

“But... How... Why?”

“I was injured in a truck accident while leaving a refugee camp.”

She visibly pulled herself together. Took a step toward him, faltered and stopped. “Pretty soon I’m going to have a ton of questions, but right now...I don’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘welcome home’?”

He watched her struggle with this major surprise. “When did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago.”

“How?” Her gaze took in his appearance and he knew what she saw. A guy who’d lost weight, whose complexion had turned pasty after weeks in the hospital. Not the image of the healthy husband who’d walked out of her life nearly two years ago.

“Wyatt. I called him to tell him I was heading home. He picked me up at the airport.”

A flush of red crept up her neck. “You didn’t think to call your wife?”

“I did, but considering how we ended our last conversation, I thought it would be better if I talked to you in person.”

She ran a hand through her shoulder-length black hair. What had happened to the long straight strands that had reached to her midback? In the hospital, he’d dreamed of running his fingers through it. Had dreamed of her easy smile, which was nowhere to be found right now. Had he expected her to jump into his arms when she saw him again despite the circumstances? Expect that old feelings would rush over her again? Disappointment swamped him. She looked like the same Zoe, yet there was something different about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t want to call me? Despite everything, didn’t you think I’d have wanted to know you were at least okay?”

He shifted as the weight on his weak leg grew uncomfortable. “I should have called, but after the accident and long recovery, I just wanted to get back to Cypress Pointe.”

She opened her mouth, then slammed it shut. His excuse probably echoed false, like so many of the ones he’d tossed her way in the past.

“Zoe, I realize this is a shock.”

“Really? A shock?” Her voice cracked. “We thought you were dead!”

“I get it—”

“Do you? We went for weeks not knowing where you were. I tried every number I could think of. Your assistant, Maria, got ahold of a few contacts who pointed us in the direction of Jordan. And then the only information she could find was that you were somewhere along the Syrian border. I hoped...prayed...”

He took a halting step forward to stand closer to his wife. Her familiar scent of vanilla mixed with a hint of floral enveloped him. All he wanted was to cup her sweet face and stare into her blue eyes. Instead, he met her gaze, which had finally moved from shock to anger.