When You Are Mine (11 page)

W
here the hell have you been?” Jo’s voice snapped at Walsh through the phone.

“Well, hello to you, too, cuz.” Walsh had to laugh. Jo was more growl than bite.

“You’ve been AWOL for the past six weeks, ever since Cam got engaged. You missed the engagement party. You’ve left
Brad
, that moron, to plan Cam’s bachelor party tonight. Where have you been?”

“Whoa, one question at a time.” Walsh’s tone noticeably iced over under her rebuke. “You and Mom decided you wanted to get into the wedding planning business, not me. Dad’s got me running point on my first acquisition. Your dad has me scoping for a new orphanage in Haiti. I haven’t been sitting around with my thumb up my ass, so back off.”

“Touch-y.” Jo softened her voice a fraction. “Now I can’t stop smiling at the image of you with your thumb up your ass. I guess you’re excused, but are you on your way?”

“I’ll be there, but late. Got drafted into a last-minute meeting. I’ll miss most of the rehearsal dinner, but I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Okay. Sorry I lit into you. My caterer is about as smart as paint, and she almost ruined everything. Lobster ravioli, not lobster fettuccini. Geez. There are so many details. It’s become such a production.”

“Maybe you should’ve listened to Kerris when she tried to tell you what she wanted.”

“What? That little ceremony at the covered bridge?” Jo gave an “oh please” smack of her lips. “Cam has always wanted to get married here in our garden. You know that. I want this to be perfect for him.”

“I’m sure it will be.” Walsh made sure to sound resigned and distracted. “Look, I need to get back in here for this meeting. I’ll see you around nine o’clock or so.”

“Good! You’ll make it in time for the bachelor party.”

Whoopee
, Walsh thought, hanging up the phone with more force than necessary. Knowing Brad, there’d be floor to ceiling strippers and a plethora of porn. Not Walsh’s speed.

Trisha, Walsh’s new assistant, poked her head around the corner into his office.

“Want me to get you on an earlier flight since the Merrist meeting was canceled?”

“No, that’s okay.” Walsh shifted his eyes from Trisha to the projections displayed on his laptop. “I could use the extra time to catch up on a few things.”

“You could make that rehearsal dinner, though, if you catch the next flight out. There’s one leaving for Raleigh-Durham in a couple of hours.”

He paused in his typing long enough to flick an annoyed glance her way.

“No, really. Just leave it.”

He waved her back to her desk, making sure not to appreciate her departure too much. She really was a feast for the senses. Long legs in her short skirts, heart-shaped ass, breasts full and firm, mocha skin, closely cropped burnished hair. Even aside from his no fraternization policy, he wasn’t interested. He was in a funk, a malaise fast approaching depression. Approaching about as fast as tomorrow’s wedding.

“Damn.” He closed his eyes, pressing the bridge of his nose and running a hand across the back of his neck. “Kerris, why are you doing this?”

The question had ricocheted in his head a million times since his mother’s birthday party. He hadn’t even tried to corner Kerris, to get her alone and ask what the hell she thought was doing. Even after what had happened in the gazebo, the intimacy they had shared and the tears they had shed over her past, he’d known they still had a long way to go before she would admit what was apparent to him. But this?

He rushed into that ballroom determined to lay all his cards on the table with Cam, even if it destroyed their friendship. He was that certain Kerris was supposed to be his. The shock of Cam’s announcement was like a blow to his solar plexus, robbing him of air for precious seconds. And then anger, violent emotion, had flooded in. He congratulated Cam, didn’t speak a word to Kerris, and took the stairs up to his room two at a time. Jo followed only minutes later to check on him.

“So this is where you disappeared to,” Jo said from the door she’d just opened without invitation. “You’re missing the celebration.”

“Yeah?” He loaded the monosyllable with enough hostility to put her off, only Jo hadn’t ever acknowledged his Keep Off the Grass signs.

“Yeah, Cam was asking where you were.” The challenge in Jo’s eyes reminded Walsh so much of his mother, he almost got up and docilely followed her back downstairs.

“Not feeling well. I already congratulated Cam. Tell him I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“But, Walsh—”

“Fuck, Jo! Will you get the hell out? Just go. I can’t…I just can’t do this right now.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look up from the threading of the duvet covering his bed. He knew Jo was standing there, probably shocked and trying to figure out what was wrong with him. When he finally glanced up, she looked completely unfazed. He was afraid she already knew what was wrong and had for some time.

That moment came back to him as he deboarded his flight later that evening. He glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock. He had missed the rehearsal dinner, but would still make the bachelor party. At least he wouldn’t have to see Kerris.

The disappointment, hurt, and frustration all rested on a bed of anger. Anger at Kerris for not facing what he absolutely knew was between them. Anger at Cam for settling for what Kerris offered instead of the passionate marriage he deserved. Anger at himself, most of all, for letting it all happen. For doing what he’d always done—protected Cam from things that were unpleasant. Jo did it. His mother did it. They all did it; shielded him from harsh realities to somehow make up for the crap he’d suffered during his childhood. It had never been good, but this time it might destroy him and Cam both.

And Kerris.

He dropped his bags in the foyer, overpowered by the almost obnoxious smell of flowers. He walked into the front room and was nearly assaulted by white calla lilies. Lilies?

Which flower is your favorite?

The orchid.

He suspected this wedding was his mother and Jo’s creation. He had experienced firsthand their tendency to take over. If it were up to them, he’d be married with a couple of kids by now. Maybe “producing” Cam’s wedding would assuage them for a little while.

The grim reality of tomorrow’s farce pressed in on him. How the hell was he going to make it through tomorrow’s ceremony?

Not a rhetorical question, Bennett. You can’t make a fool of yourself. Don’t look at her coming down the aisle. Make sure you keep your trap shut when the preacher asks if anyone has a reason these two shouldn’t be wed.

Um, yeah, it should be me standing beside her, Rev.

The simpler, truer, impossible answer was that she was…his. He knew it every time he looked at her and she looked back at him. It had taken him all summer to figure it out, and maybe now she never would.

“Sorry, the front door wasn’t closed all the way.”

The closest thing Walsh had ever seen to a real life pixie stood in the doorway. Her sharp little bob was dyed the color of plums, though Asian heritage imprinted her elfin face. He didn’t know her, but she seemed familiar.

Based on the little he’d heard from Cam and Kerris, he thought this might be Kerris’s roommate and business partner. And they might actually have met a couple of times when everyone was hanging out by the river, but he couldn’t be sure. One way to find out.

“Meredith?”

“Yeah, and you’re Walsh Bennett, right?” Her wide smile pulled her eyes into a greater tilt.

“You’re Kerris’s friend.”

“Yeah, and so are you.” She shot him a look spiced with mischief.

Walsh’s gaze narrowed at that comment.

“I guess I’m Kerris’s friend, too.” He kept his tone careful.

“Well, any friend of Cam’s is a friend of Kerris’s now, I guess.” She smiled before gesturing back toward the door. “I’m a little lost. We’re staying in the guesthouse tonight, but I didn’t see how to get to it? When I saw the front door cracked, I thought somebody could help me.”

“Who’s staying in the guest house?” Walsh demanded with a quick frown. “You and Kerris?”

“Yeah, since the wedding’s here at the house, your mom and Jo thought it made sense.”

Not only was Kerris marrying another man in his backyard, now she was spending the eve of her wedding under his roof. Could there be any other forms of torture left before this was all over? He thought about standing at the end of the aisle as Cam’s best man, Kerris walking toward him, but not
to
him. He knew that would be the worst torture. Or thinking about their wedding night. Their first child.

Actually, a lifetime of torture lay ahead of him.

“The guesthouse is out back.” Every word felt like wood on his tongue. “Is Kerris already here?”

“No, she’ll be coming a little later. She, um, needed some time on her own.”

“She’s okay, though, right?” Walsh glanced over his shoulder at the little nymph following him to the guesthouse.

“Bridal nerves,” Meredith said, but Walsh recognized strain when he saw it, and it was all around her forced smile.

Walsh stopped in his tracks and turned to face Meredith, looking her straight in the eye like they’d known each other for years.

“Is she having second thoughts?” He refused to release her startled gaze.

“Did I say that? I didn’t say that.” Her laugh was light and false.

“Is she sure this is what she wants to do, Meredith? I don’t want them making a mistake.”

Meredith looked up the distance stretching between her four eleven and his six three. Walsh saw her open her mouth and close it before anything could come out.

“Kerris loves Cam, Walsh.”

Walsh drew a quick breath, disappointment taking up all the space in his chest, leaving him swollen and yet deflated. With the finality of Meredith’s words, he had to face it, had to check that ruthless determination that could compel him to take, take, take and apologize later. He felt like a tiger whose prey had disintegrated into thin air.

“Of course.” He slipped back into the self-assurance perfected through years of practice. “I’ve waited a long time for Cam to find someone, and Kerris is a remarkable girl. The guesthouse is right back here. It would’ve been hard for you to find on your own. I gotta get to Cam’s bachelor party.”

“Oh, yeah.” Meredith’s face seemed to relax with his change of topic. “You guys have fun, but not too much fun. The wedding is tomorrow, so take care of our boy.”

Walsh set his shoulders at the perfect angle to carry the weight of the world. He’d take care of Cam, all right. Hadn’t he always?

W
alsh half stumbled through the front door, reaching out to steady himself against the wall, but it moved under his hand. He was vodka’s bitch. Invariably, when things went wrong, he hit the vodka hard. Though they hadn’t stocked his favorite, Kauffman—not surprising considering its hefty price tag—he’d made do with whatever swamp water they’d had at the bachelor party. He hadn’t drowned any sorrows, though. They were still very much alive, just flailing and sloppy and wet around the edges.

His mind crawled back into the stuffy hotel room Brad had secured for the party. As he’d anticipated, he’d been met with a wall of exposed flesh and cheap lingerie. He got it. It was a bachelor party. He had politely declined every stripper who had approached him, ignoring Brad’s goading that he was wasting perfectly good, already-paid-for ass.

He’d had almost no time alone with Cam before he had to go, to get out of there before he confessed everything in a loose-lipped, vodka-laced miasma. He couldn’t do that to Cam…could he? Walsh had never seen Cam happier. It was a bone-deep happiness Walsh had taken for granted most of his life. His parents’ divorce had been a war zone, but they had fought to ensure he remained a relatively well-adjusted kid. He had always sensed, though, that Cam was braced for an emotional blow, poised for flight. Was Walsh the only one who saw the steel-plated undercarriage of wariness beneath Cam’s carefully cultivated nonchalance? Tonight, his eyes had been clear and his face, genuinely open. Cam looked like he’d finally found a home. And it was Kerris.

Without his permission, Walsh’s feet took him to the kitchen, through the back door, and down the path to the guesthouse.

How had he gotten here? Not just at the guesthouse, but
here
? In love with his best friend’s fiancée, soon-to-be wife? Here, sitting on the sidelines as the woman he’d connected so deeply with married another man? Here, fighting against his every instinct to charge into the guesthouse and compel her with kisses, coerce her with chemistry, and do everything short of abduction to stop this wedding.

He compromised with his inner warrior and settled on the bench beneath the stairs leading up to the guesthouse door. There was a ground-level garage, and the main rooms were on the second floor. He and Cam had sat on this very bench a thousand times under these very stairs, plotting, planning, laughing, confiding, dreaming.

A sound caught his attention, and he noticed Jo walking toward him from the garden. Probably making some last-minute adjustments to the decorations out there.

“What exactly are you doing, Walsh Bennett?”

“Kinda late for you to still be up and out, isn’t it, Jo?”

“I asked you a question.” Hands on hips, feet apart, chin lifted high. Maybe Jo was the real warrior of the family. “What are you doing skulking around in the shadows under the guesthouse?”

“Just chilling,” he mumbled, too steeped in vodka to be clever.

Jo settled on the bench beside him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“She doesn’t belong to you, cuz.” Jo wove thorns around the compassion in her whisper. “Don’t do it.”

Walsh went completely still and quiet. So Jo was as astute as he’d always believed her to be.

“I think I love her.” He dropped his head back against the wall, perversely glad to say the words aloud to someone other than himself.

“No, you don’t.” Jo lifted her head and grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet those penetrating gray eyes. “What you feel is no different from what every other man feels when he sees Kerris. It’s called a hard-on, Walsh. Not love.”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Walsh wrenched his chin from her tight grip, his tone low and fierce.

“Oh, okay. Don’t tell me. You have a connection with her, right?”

“Yeah, I do actually.”

“And I guess she’s your soul mate or something, right?”

“You don’t have to make it sound weird.” He rubbed his eyes against the soporific effect of the alcohol.

“Have you ever seen Cam happier?” Jo leaned in to look directly into his bloodshot eyes, not waiting for him to answer. “Let’s think about this. You pretty much hit the life lottery, Walsh. Looks, wealth, a great family—minus your dad, of course, who’s practically certifiable. Most people would choose your life. Cam got snake eyes. Crappy childhood. Bitch of a mother. Abuse. Shuffled from home to home. No family.”

“You can’t make up for that, Jo.” Walsh leaned forward, elbows to his knees. “I’m guilty of it, too. So is Mom. We all are. We enable, protect, and coddle him to make up for something that won’t ever change—his past. And I don’t think, especially in this instance, that we’re doing him any favors.”

“Oh, you are so noble.” Sarcasm twisted Jo’s pretty face. “You want what’s best for Cam. It has nothing to do with the fact that you want to screw his fiancée, right?”

Walsh literally bit his tongue. What could he say? How could he convey that, as selfishly presumptuous as it sounded, he just knew that Kerris was his. That sounded like some circa caveman crap, but it was the truth that hummed through him every time he saw her. He’d tried, but couldn’t change it. And the galling thing? He felt like she knew it, too, but wouldn’t admit it. Why? What had so thoroughly convinced her that what she’d have with Cam was so much better?

A heavy, uneven tread on the steps over their heads startled them both, their eyes catching and holding. They heard a persistent banging on the guesthouse door before it squeaked open.

“Cam?” Meredith asked, her voice husky with sleep. “What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?”

“I think around one o’clock.” Cam paused and then said the next words in a rush. “I need to see Kerris.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Not this time. She’s here, right?”

“I’m here.” Walsh’s gut tightened at the sound of Kerris’s voice. “Is everything okay, Cam? It’s late.”

“I know, baby.” His voice dipped a little lower. “I need to speak to you alone.”

“Okay. Mer, go on back to sleep.”

“Just holler if you need me,” Walsh heard Meredith say before the sound of her feet shuffling off reached his ears.

“I had a lap dance tonight.” Cam’s abrupt confession sounded sharp and clear.

“Okaaaaaay.” Walsh could almost picture Kerris’s delicate features crinkling with the question before she asked it. “Did it make you realize you’re not ready to get married or something?”

“No!” The fierce denial disappointed Walsh. “Just the opposite. I didn’t…feel anything. I mean, you know, I’m a guy. So I was aroused.”

“I think we can skip certain details.” Walsh heard a smile creeping back into Kerris’s tired voice.

“I just didn’t want us to go into tomorrow with that between us,” he mumbled. “Guys were taking pictures and stuff, and I didn’t want that to get back to you. For you to think I’d done something wrong. She just sat down and started grinding on me.”

“Again with the details, Cam.” Kerris’s husky laugh made Walsh want to run up the stairs and tickle her sides like he had at the birthday party, so she’d laugh some more.

“I just want you to know I won’t hurt you that way.” Walsh had never heard Cam so solemn. “I’ve never been faithful to anybody, Kerris, but I will be to you. I promise.”

“I believe you, Cam.”

“I love you, Ker.”

And then it was quiet. Walsh gripped the edge of the bench, cutting off the blood flow to his fingers. Cam was kissing her. And he had every fucking right, but Walsh wanted to rip his head from his shoulders.

“Time for you to go.” Kerris accompanied the admonishment with a laugh. “I’ve heard it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,”

“We already had all our bad luck. Tomorrow’s a fresh start for us.”

“A fresh start. Yeah.” Walsh could hear the smile just beneath her words. “See you in the morning.”

“G’night.”

It was Cam’s last word before he stomped down the stairs over their heads. Hearing Kerris excited about her fresh start with Cam had sobered Walsh. He still believed she was making a mistake marrying Cam with this attraction between them, but hearing his friend’s desperate grasp at the happiness that had always eluded him, and was now so close at hand, convinced Walsh that he could not be the reason it slipped away. He blinked a few times, wishing the pain would shift. It felt like a rock lodged under his heart.

He noticed for the first time that Jo had tears in her eyes. She blinked several times, but a few managed to trickle down the keen lines of her face. A realization started unfolding in his mind, at first questioning and then, as he saw her still holding back tears, it hardened into certainty.

“You’re in love with Cam,” Walsh whispered, awestruck that he had been so close for so long and never seen it. It was skywritten all over his cousin’s face.

“That’s ridiculous.” Jo swiped at a tear, reining her mouth into a stiff line.

“I know what I saw, Jo, so don’t try to play me off. I know you.”

She was silent, rubbing her palms up and down her slim thighs, biting her lip.

“Why torture yourself planning their wedding?”

“I don’t—”

“Please don’t insult me,” Walsh cut in. “I didn’t see it before, but I do now. So why’d you do it?”

She hesitated, closing her eyes before finally speaking.

“Because he deserves to be happy. And she makes him happy.”

“Did you ever tell him? There’s still time to stop this.”

Jo lasered her eyes on him, pointing one long finger in his face.

“I couldn’t stop Cam from marrying Kerris now even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I love him, yes, but she makes him happy.”

“Why, Jo? Cam loves you!”

“Like a sister, Walsh. He’s not attracted to me.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” Jo twisted the ring on her thumb. “Let’s leave it at that.”

“No, what do you mean?”

“He doesn’t see me that way. I put feelers out once or twice. The second time I did it, I wasn’t subtle. He didn’t speak to me for almost a month.” A bitter smile settled around Jo’s full mouth. “I finally went to him and apologized for doing anything to give him the wrong impression. I could see the relief on his face. It took a long time for things to get back to normal.”

“But if—”

“Look, this is useless. I’ve accepted it and have moved on.”

“That look on your face was not ‘moved on,’” Walsh said, more convinced than ever this wedding was a mistake.

He thought this was a love triangle between him, Kerris, and Cam. It had taken on quadrilateral proportions, with Jo adding a new dimension to his fear that this wedding shouldn’t happen. But what could he do? He wanted to charge up those stairs Cam had just left, bang on the door, scoop Kerris up, start running to New York, and make a life for the two of them where no one would bother them.

But they would be bothered.

There were too many people he cared about who’d be left brokenhearted, disappointed, angry, and resentful. Starting with Cam and ending with his own mother.

Walsh could only hope he was wrong about how badly this could turn out. But hope couldn’t make things right. The only thing that felt right was him with Kerris, and with each minute ticking toward tomorrow’s wedding, Walsh knew there wasn’t enough hope in the world to make that happen.