Must-Have Husband (Summer Grooms Series) (11 page)

Beau turned toward Linda. “Who else could it have been?”

She blinked.

“Do you know something about this, daughter?” Junior asked
sternly.

Linda’s face got all pink and puffy, like she was about to
burst out crying.

“Linda?” her mother pressed.

“We never thought it would come to this!” she said with a
wail.

“What do you mean?” her grandpa asked.

“He’s not even her real fiancé!” Linda’s voice cracked in
despair. “He’s a fake!” She spilled the whole sordid story as the others gaped,
and Elizabeth rapidly fanned her face with her hands.

Beau peered out the window. “Look! They’re on the patio!”

Ollie gritted his teeth and raced from the room. “I’m gonna
get that guy!”

“I’m coming too!” Junior said, tearing after him.

Wendell wheeled himself toward the elevator as fast as he
could, his nurses trailing. “Get me downstairs—quickly,” he commanded.

Beau rushed forward just in time to catch Elizabeth, who
fainted from shock.

Ollie stormed onto the patio and socked Mac in the face
before he could defend himself.

“Wait! Stop!” Connie yelped. “What are you doing?”

“Do you have any idea what he’s done?”

Connie gasped. “But he said it was an accident!”

“An accident?” Ollie rubbed his knuckles while Mac massaged
his struck jaw. “Is that what he calls his little game of
pretend
?”

Her knees felt weak. “What?”

“The jig is up,” her dad said. “This man is a liar and a
cheat, and he’s destroyed the one thing this family holds dear.”

“The dress?” Connie asked in stunned disbelief. “Is it
really ruined?”

“It’s not just the dress he’s destroyed,” Grandpa Oliver
said, wheeling onto the patio. “It’s this family. He’s broken our trust.”

Mac began his apology, his face red from the neck up. “Sir,
I’m so sorry. I’ll offer to pay, anyth—”

“Can it,” Junior said flatly. “We’ll thank you to pack your
bags and get out of here. You can call a cab from your room.”

Mac looked around the patio at all of them. Even Linda and
Beau were there, with Elizabeth leaning weakly against Beau’s arm. “But if you’d
just let me explain—”

Wendell Senior stared at him, indignant. “What? That you
agreed to accept twenty thousand dollars in cash for your participation in this
little ploy?” He wheeled toward Mac with a scowl. “Let me tell you something,
mister. My granddaughter might make mistakes, but she deserves better than
that.”

“Connie?” Mac asked, his face etched with pain. “Is that
what you want? For me to go?”

She couldn’t see how his staying would make things any
better. This whole thing had exploded like an enormous atom bomb, and now
pieces of shrapnel were everywhere. She wanted to find her voice but felt muted
by the hurt welling within her. She couldn’t get a damn thing right. Not even
in make-believe with Mac. How could she have been foolish enough to dream
things would work out, when everything had started with such a big lie?

She dropped her face in her hands and wept with humiliation
as he turned and walked away. “You didn’t have to be so hard on him,” she said.
“I had a part in this as well.”

“Yes,” her mom said, “a very big part, it seems. We’ll need
to talk that over.”

“Not now. Please, not now,” Connie said, her heart breaking.
For the first time in her life, she’d thought she’d begun to feel something
authentic for a man, but now she guessed that had been a lie too.

Chapter Nine

Six weeks later, Hank sunned himself on a rock while Mac stared
stoically ahead.

“I really appreciate you inviting me on this little
excursion. It’s been just like camping with a corpse.”

“You don’t know what it’s been like, losing her.” He
appeared wistful a moment. “It’s just like Chance.”

Hank lifted his head to look at him. “You mean like fate?”

“No, my yellow lab. I lost him in the woods when I was nine
and never saw him again.”

“Man, that’s heartbreaking. In fact, that’s got to be the
saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Mac stared at him poignantly.

“Up until now. This thing with Connie. It’s much worse.”

Mac sighed, surveying the forest.

Hank sat up, resting his forearms on his knees. “Have you
tried calling?”

“Dozens of times.”

“What does she say?”

“That some things can’t be undone, that’s what.”

“Well, maybe she’s right.” Mac turned toward him. “You did
cause quite a nasty scene with her family. Maybe you should have shot that
bird.”

“Thanks, Hank.”

“I mean it. If that little snitch hadn’t squawked—”

“The whole thing would have unraveled anyway.”

Hank hated seeing his friend like this, all down and
defeated. “How long do you suppose it’ll be before you snap out of it?”

“Forever. Why?”

“Because…” he said, drawing out the word. “Candy and I are
going to a movie this weekend—”

“Candy? You’re dating a woman named Candy? Get real.” He
shot Hank a grin. “What is she? Sweet on you?”

“Great! You’re feeling better. Being Mr. Smarty-pants.”

Mac shook his head.

“So you’ll join us, then?”

“Who?”

“Me and Candy… And her friend—”

“No.”

“Come on, man.”

“No way.”

“Just one date.”

“Not interested.”

“You’re going to die a bachelor if it kills you.”

“I have wonderful news from New York!” Elizabeth proclaimed
as she sat at Connie’s kitchen table. “The dress is going to live.”

Connie breathed a sigh of relief, hugging her mother. “Thank
goodness the damage wasn’t permanent.”

“The word is no one will ever know…unless they use a
magnifying glass.”

“You didn’t tell Aunt Mona?”

“Heavens! And encourage her to add another chapter in that
dreadful book? Not on your life.”

Connie walked to the counter and poured them two cups of
coffee. “I’m glad it’s all worked out.” She shot her mom a sad glance. “Most of
it anyhow.”

“Has he called?” Elizabeth asked with a worried frown.

“A couple of times.”

“And?”

“And it was hard. Awkward. There really isn’t much to say.”

“How about let’s get together for dinner?”

Connie sat with surprise. “That’s a little forward.”

Elizabeth leaned over, lightly touching her arm. “Come on,
you’re miserable without him.”

“But I thought none of you could stand Mac?”

Elizabeth sipped from her cup, then set it down. “It wasn’t
Mac, per se, but rather the shock of everything surrounding him at the time.”

“Like the tattered dress?”

“That didn’t help.”

“People make mistakes.”

“Of course they do.” Elizabeth studied her daughter. “How do
you know you’re not making one now?”

Connie thoughtfully gazed at her mom. “Sometimes things are
too weird to go back, you know? It’s not like we were ever really dating.”

“I’m sorry, Connie,” her mom said, sounding as if she meant
it. After a beat, she said, “Tell me about that new venture of yours. Sugar
Shots, you say it’s called?”

Connie felt her face brighten. “Yes, and I’ve got a couple
of investors already. Parents from the children’s museum.”

“That’s wonderful. What will you sell?”

“Baked goods and photographs of what I make.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“Sugar Shots will be a bakery boutique,” Connie explained, “focusing
on miniatures. Miniature pies, miniature cakes, little tiny cookies, and the
like.”

“Oh, how cute!”

“Yes. And I plan to photograph everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I cater a party with a selection of minis styled
to the hostess’s direction, I’ll take commemorative photos of the food’s
presentation and frame them like this.” She produced an example of a high-resolution
photograph in a frame overlaid with the words,
Happy fifth birthday, Minnie.
The picture was of a layered “cake”
made from five tiers of tiny pink cupcakes crowned with confectionary tiaras.

“That’s darling,” Elizabeth said. “Very clever.”

“The cool thing is, I’ll keep duplicate photos in the shop
and hang them on the walls. That way, I’ll have samples for other customers to
examine as I’m building my client base.”

Her mom’s face glowed warmly. “I’m so proud of you for
thinking this out.”

“I knew I’d get around to something eventually. My mind had
just been too cluttered to see the whole thing through.”

“What helped clear it?”

“A bit of fresh air.”

“Huh?”

“Have you ever noticed that when you’re outdoors—like
biking or something?–you can think that much better?”

“No, I can’t say that I have.” She shrugged and smiled
brightly. “The important thing is, it’s worked for you. I’m so happy for you,
Connie. After all this time, you’re finally on your way.”

Six months later, Mac stood with satisfaction outside his
new storefront. He’d worked hard to obtain the bank loan, but the interest rate
he’d secured was a good one, and he had no doubt he’d be turning a profit
shortly. He heard a happy bark and spun in surprise to see Hank ambling up from
the parking lot. Well, what do you know? Carting a little Labrador puppy, with
a bright red ribbon tied around its neck.

“What’s this?” he asked as Hank approached.

“A little house-warming gift.”

Mac was immediately taken in by the huge puppy paws and big
brown eyes. He accepted the dog, scratching it under the chin. “Hey there,
little guy. What’s your name?”

“Chance,” Hank said with a grin. “The Second.”

The pup wiggled up to lick Mac’s face, and a lump welled in
his throat.

“Thanks, man…” He slapped Hank’s arm, steeling his emotions.
“You’re the best.”

Hank’s gaze swept across the store’s façade. “Looking good.
When do you open up?”

“First of next week.”

“That’s awesome. Congrats.”

The dog gave Mac another puppy kiss, and he laughed
heartily, snuggling it close. “You really were crazy nice to do this.”

Hank surveyed his friend. “Got plans for the rest of the
afternoon?”

“Me and Chance?” Mac asked with a laugh. “Not really.”

“Then let’s drive into town. Grab a cup of coffee.”

“Hank,” Mac said with a grin. “You’ve got a date.”

Hank chuckled, patting the puppy’s head. “It’s about time.”

As they approached the café district, Hank said, “There are
a lot of new places that have opened up around here. Just let me know when you
want to stop.”

Mac held the puppy in his lap, seeing Hank was right. There
were a number of shops he didn’t recognize, including one with its front window
filled with photographs of… Wait a minute. Food? Something vague tugged at the
back of his mind, but he wasn’t sure what.

“
Sugar Shots?” he
said to Hank. “Have you heard of that one?”

“Is it a coffee shop?”

Mac didn’t know, but for some reason, the name intrigued
him. “How about we check it out?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hank said, pulling into the next vacant
parking space.

When Mac and Hank entered the store, they saw it was a cute
bakery. They did sell coffee and lattes and cappuccinos…and chai, along with a
whole host of miniature confections, ranging from cupcakes to little iced
scones. It was a small operation, with a smattering of tables for two near the big
front window. Only a few of them were occupied by well-coiffed ladies swapping
gossip over java and tiny jelly donuts. No one was behind the counter at the
moment. But one of the ladies assured them the owner would be right out, as she
oohed and aahed over Mac’s puppy. “We’ll have to ask about the dog,” Hank said.

Mac noted two empty tables on the sidewalk beside the shop’s
door. “It’s all right. We can sit outside.” He cradled the puppy in his arms
and scanned the framed pictures on the walls. That was when it hit him. The
name of the woman who loved taking photos of food…

“Connie!” he cried with surprise as she bustled out of the
kitchen with a teapot and a basket of goodies on a tray. She was moving fast,
on a straight trajectory toward him and the dog.

Blue eyes lit up with wonder. “Mac?”

Chance squirmed in Mac’s arms. “Whoa there, fella,” he said,
trying to control the wiggling dog. He lowered the pup to the floor, and Chance
bounded toward Connie, barking excitedly. She glanced down, hefting her heavy
tray higher. “Well, hello… Whoa… Whoa!” she yelped. To her horror, the tray
tilted and its contents began to slide. The pup yapped happily underneath the
tilting tray, on the verge of having the whole weight of it dropped on him as
it slid from Connie’s grip. “Oh no!” she cried, watching the scalding hot
teapot and everything else plummet.

Mac leaped forward, pouncing on Connie and pushing the tray
to the side while calling out like a madman, “Chance!” Both lost their footing
and tumbled, but Mac held her close, breaking her fall with his arms behind her
and her head cradled in his hands.

The dog darted under a table with a whimper as the teapot
exploded in streams of hot liquid and ceramic shards, and scones bounced out of
their basket.

Connie looked up at Mac, who lay flat on top of her, pinning
her to the floor. “Are you all right?” he asked, his face coloring beneath his
beard.

“I think so,” she said, still reeling from the moment. Of
all people! Mac McCormack, that incredibly handsome outdoorsman. And right here
on top of her. Connie realized café patrons were staring and felt her
temperature rise.

He seemed lost in her eyes, then snapped himself out of it. “Good.
That’s really good,” he said, rolling off her so she could once again breathe.
He offered her his hands and pulled her into a sitting position. Chance
scrambled out from under a table and loped over, picking up a scone along the
way.