The Bride's Curse (20 page)

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Authors: Glenys O'Connell

BOOK: The Bride's Curse
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Now she joined him and Mary for coffee at the Marina Grove Cafe and was touched by the relief in his eyes as she slipped into a booth beside him. Brett gave her a quick kiss which brought a big smile to the face of the waitress who approached to take their order, but a quick look of disapproval from Mary Atwell.

They decided to order a comfort meal of fish and chips and once their food had arrived, Kelly quickly brought everyone up to speed on what she’d learned from Peter the Friendly Ghost. She’d changed the nickname she had for him after realizing he was genuinely contrite for what he’d done and was trying to put things right within the “rules” that appeared to have been laid down by a higher authority.

“So what are we going to do now?”

Kelly voiced the question while dipping a large, fresh French fry into ketchup. Brett watched with a gleam in his eye as she raised the fried potato to her mouth, the mouth he had so recently kissed, and she struggled not to laugh aloud. Mary, who was delicately using a knife and fork, raised a curious eyebrow. Kelly sighed and bit back the
lighten up, honey
comment she wanted to snap at the older woman.

“According to Peter, Troy is still alive.” She held up a warning hand to Mary. “I’m not sure we can really rely on that information. It’s not as though he has a hotline to the Great Beyond right now. Anything could have happened since he made his own inquiries into Troy’s status.”

Brett gaped. “You know, you make all this stuff sound so … so
normal
! You accept that this ghost is real, that he’s Peter, that he has inquired about Troy’s whereabouts, and has been assured he’s not yet in the Hereafter, and … good lord, I’m still struggling to accept that there is any such thing as ghosts yet.”

“Poor Brett,” Kelly leaned over and patted the cheek of the man who sat beside her. “This is all too much for you to take in, isn’t it? But, you know, you’re actually taking it all very well.” She smiled as that slight blush crept up over his cheeks. She really, really wanted to kiss that pink stubbly cheek but was only too aware of Mary’s censorious stare on the other side of the table.

Still, when Brett’s hand slipped onto her leg, hidden beneath the table, she couldn’t fight back the smile it sparked. Catching Mary’s gaze, she swallowed hard. The waitress brought them coffee then, inquiring if everything was all right and if they wanted dessert.

Kelly did—she craved anxiety defeating chocolate and knew that the restaurant did a fine line in chocolate related goodies. With a huge effort, she controlled herself, refused dessert, and, after stirring cream into her brew, asked, “And again, what do we do next?”

Mary sipped her coffee then blotted her lips on a paper napkin, her movements so cute and ladylike that Kelly couldn’t stop a smile. Something about the woman was visibly changing, softening, almost by the hour as they worked toward solving the mystery of her missing groom.

“Well, dear, I think we need to go and find one of those computers and use that—what did you call it? Noodle? Strudel?”

“Google?”

“Yes, that’s it. We should use that Google to see if we can find out anything about Troy.”

“I don’t have the Internet, Auntie. I wasn’t expecting to be home long so I didn’t get it hooked up. I have email on my phone and I’ve been using the library facilities for anything requiring a larger screen.” Brett looked at Kelly. “I bet Wedding Bliss has a computer and Internet, though,” he added.

“That’s your business, is it? Wedding Bliss. What a cute name.” Mary turned to look expectantly at Kelly, who sighed.

“Of course we have the Internet. Fast connection, too. And yes, we can go to the store and use it. Brett and I will call you if we find anything and in the meantime … ”

“Oh, no, no, you don’t.” Mary stood and pulled herself up to her full five foot three inches to glower at them. “I’m coming with you. Don’t even think of trying to leave me out now, or I’ll cast a spell that will turn the two of you into frogs.”

Kelly turned to Brett. “Well, in that case, I guess Aunt Mary isn’t leaving us with much of a choice. Either we bring her with us or we start new careers as amphibians.”

• • •

Brett checked the time on the large faced clock over the serving counter. “It’s late. Why don’t we all meet up tomorrow early and use Kelly’s computer? If that’s okay?”

Kelly agreed that it was and reluctantly turned down Brett’s invitation to return to Derry with them. “I’m getting behind with some of the wedding arrangements I need to do. I’m planning a long evening snuggling with my computer at home.”

Brett agreed, adding that he had some work to do as well. “I’m going to miss you lots, Red,” he murmured into her hair.

“I hate to break you guys up,” Mary broke into their quiet moment. “I really want to go home and get some sleep so I’ll be fresh for tomorrow. I don’t want to meet Troy all these years later looking haggard.”

They agreed that the best course of action was to start early the next morning. Brett offered to drive Kelly home before he and Mary returned to the Atwell Mansion.

• • •

“What a sweet little house,” Mary cooed when they parked in front of Kelly’s cottage.

“It’s an old fisherman’s cottage that I’m renovating,” Kelly told her.

“All by yourself? Oh, the things you young women get into these days.”

Brett, his back to Mary, rolled his eyes and Kelly struggled not to laugh. Brett walked her safely to her door and his goodnight kiss was so filled with desire that it made her knees go weak and banished all coherent thought as she clung to him.

When she was able to speak, she said, “Why don’t you drop Mary back home and then come over for a nightcap … ? Or … something?”

When he hesitated, she teased, “You’re not still scared that the ghost might appear and ruin your play, are you?”

Brett shook his head. “Honey, I doubt that anything could spoil things when I’m with you. But I need to get back to Derry, and you’ve got work to do for your business. We’ve an early start tomorrow and Mary is in a high state of nerves. I’m uncomfortable not being there with her. And neither of us will get any sleep if I stay with you.” The desire that gleamed from his eyes spoke volumes.

Kelly nodded and, ignoring Mary watching from Brett’s SUV, kissed him passionately. Heat ran from her chest to her belly as their mouths met, her body remembering how good the sex was between the two of them. Pressed tightly against him, in his arms, Kelly felt the evidence that he, too, remembered.

They finally pulled apart and Brett reluctantly left her to drive Mary home.

Feeling bereft at his leaving, Kelly wondered if a time would come when they didn’t need to part. On her shoulder sat a mischievous imp who whispered, “Why didn’t he ask you again to stay over at his place? You could work there as easily as here.”

She mentally swatted the doubting creature away, breathed deeply, and stepped through her own front door. Without even flicking on the light, she saw Peter the Friendly Ghost comfortably ensconced on her living room sofa and looking as relaxed as if he owned the place. She’d read in novels that ghosts gave out “an eerie glow,” but she’d never witnessed it herself until now. Get a few of these restless spirits together in one space and you’d save a pile of money on electricity bills.

“I was wondering when you’d get back—it’s really not seemly for a young woman to be dallying with a young man on the doorstep in public view.” He had moved to a sitting position, a stern expression on his face.

“Who do you think you are, my dad?” she snapped, and was immediately sorry, for the ghost suddenly radiated a gray wave of sorrow.

“No, my little girl drowned in a friend’s swimming pool when she was seven. Sometimes I’ve thought it was penance for how I ruined other people’s lives.”

“I’m sure God wouldn’t have let that terrible thing happen to your daughter just to punish you, however much you may have deserved it.” Despite herself, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for the man, er, ghost.

He heaved a massive sigh. “Thank you for that. But if I were your father, I wouldn’t allow such loose behavior.”

“Good thing you’re not, then, isn’t it?”

They glared at each other across the room. Kelly caved first. “I’m almost thirty years old. I’m not a child. And we’re trying to figure out a solution to your problems so that maybe you can go on to whatever’s next and leave me alone.”

The ghost nodded. “I’m grateful, although it seems you are all pretty dumb. It’s taken ages for us to get to this point.”

She fisted her hands. If she punched him, her fist would go right through and into the hard-backed seat. That wouldn’t be very satisfying and would probably hurt. “You know, you could have been a bit more helpful. Why the need for lurking around? And that stunt of throwing all my stock about in Wedding Bliss and terrifying my poor assistant, Noelia? Couldn’t you just have had a conversation with me like we’re doing now?”

The restless spirit sniggered. “What fun would that have been?”

“Fun? You think this is fun?” She ground her teeth. “You know, I finally made the connection between you and the cursed wedding gown, then to Mary Atwell, but for the longest time, I thought you were Troy, her missing groom. Your sense of ‘fun’ made Mary cry, thinking Troy was a ghost.”

He started to fade, his expression one of guilty sorrow. “My stupid sense of humor and practical jokes started all this trouble. Seems I can’t stop … tell Mary I love her still and I’m truly sorry. Tell Troy … I never meant for … ”

And he was gone, leaving the sentence unfinished. Exhausted from the emotions of the day and from the encounter with Peter Arnt’s spirit, Kelly stumbled upstairs. She barely stopped to clean her teeth before falling into bed and into mercifully dreamless sleep, Sullivan snoring contentedly at her side.

• • •

Brett wasn’t so lucky. Back in Derry he’d decided to sleep in one of the mansion’s ten bedrooms so that he could be on hand if his aunt needed anything. She still hadn’t fully regained her vitality after the pneumonia. The night ticked by, but he tossed and turned as sleep eluded him.

Finally, he acknowledged the problem in just one word:
Red.
Kelly Andrews was driving him crazy. She reminded him of one of the long stemmed roses his mother had loved to decorate their home with; the slender body, the thick crop of shining red hair.
The sharp thorns.

The idea of Kelly’s prickliness made him smile then groan with frustration. He didn’t think he’d ever sleep again unless she was there in his bed, her flaming red hair spread across his pillow, her soft, creamy body pressed against his. He was hard just imagining her there with him.

He had to face the fact that it wasn’t just his body that longed for Kelly—it was his heart. What a marvelous, terrifying, beautiful, thought.

There had been other women in his life, in his bed. Sure, some had been beautiful, most had been intelligent, and all had been desirable. He’d even thought himself in love once or twice. But he had never met another woman who moved him, who made him laugh, who intrigued him, as much as Kelly Andrews. He craved her not just for that beautiful body, but for the whole woman she was.

Was it possible to actually be in love with someone you’d met barely half a dozen times? His rational mind pooh-poohed the idea of love at first sight. But his emotions joined his hormones in shouting,
Yes! Yes!

Chapter Seventeen

Brett, Mary, and Kelly had agreed to meet at nine thirty to start their online search for the elusive Troy Matthews. Kelly arrived way too early for their meeting and spent some time going over the plans for three upcoming weddings, including the one they were arranging for Daria Welcome.

“Let’s hope this is all solved soon, or Daria may not get to wear that dress walking down the aisle,” Noelia had observed darkly.

“Don’t be a pessimist,” Kelly replied, although in her heart she knew they had not set themselves an easy task.

They’d just finished when Brett knocked on the door. Kelly could see Mary standing back on the sidewalk to look in the store window.

She held back, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She wasn’t sure how Mary Atwell would deal with being surrounded by all the wedding paraphernalia. At least the cursed gown was in Daria Welcome’s closet and not at the store. Still she took a moment to step outside and ask the older woman how she felt about all these reminders of a wedding that had never happened.

To her surprise, Mary smiled and told her that she’d been living with the pain of being jilted for so many years, and doubted seeing a few wedding knickknacks could possibly bother her. Besides, she added, she wasn’t going to let anything get her down now that there was a glimmer of hope that her questions might soon be answered.

Certainly, Brett’s aunt looked more friendly and relaxed than Kelly had ever seen her. She couldn’t help a frisson of anxiety, however. What if they couldn’t find any further information about Mary’s errant groom? Or what if he was dead or perhaps had had a mental breakdown and never recovered? She wondered how Mary would deal with such a stark reality.

On closer inspection, though, she thought Mary had lost about a decade since the previous evening. When she commented on it, Mary replied, “I feel younger, you know. Somehow being near to finding out what happened, why Troy didn’t come to the wedding and had never contacted me again, well, it makes me feel better about it all. In fact, I’m not sure now why I didn’t do something like this long ago.” She reached out and squeezed Kelly’s hand. “You know, my dear, you’ve been instrumental in taking a huge burden off my mind. Even if we find out Troy is dead, after all, at least there’ll probably be clues as to why he disappeared.”

Reassured, Kelly led the way through into the store and to the rear room where the computer waited, its power lights blinking in readiness. Mary took a few minutes looking around the store before following. “You certainly do have good taste,” she said. “I think it must be fun to be a bride these days.”

“If you could be a fly on the wall here when some of these brides are pouring out their anxieties, you wouldn’t think so,” Noelia told her. “No matter how sure a couple is that they love each other there are still the same old insecurities and tensions about how the wedding will go. Will Uncle Bill drink too much? Will the mother of the bride and the mother of the groom get into a fight? Will grandma take offense at not being seated at the bridal table?”

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