Runaway Groom (17 page)

*****

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky the next morning.

With a team of aunties giving the bride breakfast-in-bed together with copious jugs of coffee, April slipped into her mother’s bedroom. “I need to talk to you.”

Margaret Leigh pulled her robe tighter and sat down on the bed. “Is everything okay, April?”

April nodded and sat down next to her mother. “I’ve been seeing someone and it’s serious.”

Margaret’s face lit with a smile.
This next bit was going to be hard.

“I want you to have an open mind.” She warned heart sinking as her mother’s expression changed to worry. She breathed in deep. “It’s Matthew Logan.”

Margaret’s eyes widened. “Matthew.”

“Yes. Matthew.” She grasped her mother’s hand. “I know you don’t like him, I know you think…”

Margaret’s mouth thinned. “He ran out on your sister.”

“I’ve spoken to June, and it turns out he didn’t. The end of their relationship was a joint decision. They were both very young, and if they’d married it’s more than likely they’d have broken up by now. June and Michael are perfect together. They’re having a perfect wedding today, one that will last. I care about Matthew.”

Her mother’s eyes took on a faraway look. “I always liked him. I was so disappointed when they broke up. I can’t understand why June wouldn’t just tell us their breaking up was a mutual thing.”

“She didn’t want us to be angry with her.”

Margaret thought for a long moment. “All of the wedding preparations had gone ahead. I suppose it was easier on her to be the jilted one than calling it off.” Her mouth tilted in a smile. “I can’t believe you decided to wait until this morning to tell me.”

“June invited Matthew to the wedding. And he’s going to be there.”

“Ah. Does your father know?”

“I told him the last time I saw him. He’s okay with it.”

Margaret stood. “Then I’m okay with it too.” She pulled her daughter into a hug. “Now go and help your sister into her dress.”

April floated to the door, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“April.”

She turned at the doorway.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him.”

Chapter Fourteen

June had been transformed from a pale, hung over wreck to Helen of Troy. Or at least April’s idea of what Helen of Troy should have looked like.

Her long blonde hair curled around her shoulders. The silver wedding dress fit perfectly and gleamed in the afternoon sun as she stepped from the wedding car and glided up the path to the old stone church.

What was most beautiful about her was the look on her face. Pure, unadulterated joy.

April sighed.

She hadn’t heard from Matthew, and had no idea what time his flight was getting in, but with luck he’d be already in the church. Her heart quickened at the thought of seeing him again. Her mother had broken the news to all her relatives, and laid down the law. They were to shelve any lingering bad feelings they had about Matthew and treat him like a member of the family.

All of the obstacles to April’s very own happy-ever-after were dissolving. June had even insisted the caterers add a place for him at the reception.

“Come on!” Bren hissed.

April scurried to join the rest of the bridal party as inside the church the organist started to play
Here comes the bride.

In this church, her parents had wed. Her grandfather and grandmother too. The walls had seen generations of her family celebrate love, baptize their children, and when life ended, had celebrated their lives in their funeral services.

One day, maybe, Matthew and April would walk down this aisle together.

April mis-stepped as the thought took hold, but quickly recovered. Her gaze scanned the pews left and right.

The church was packed with friends and relatives, as well as a healthy contingent of the groom’s family who had flown in from the States. By the time the small procession reached the altar, she hadn’t spotted Matthew. Perhaps his flight had been delayed.

As the marriage service got underway, she glanced back over her shoulder at the entrance. She held her breath as the vicar asked if anyone objected to the wedding, breathed out in relief when the church was so silent for a moment you could hear the silk on June’s dress rustle.

His flight must have been delayed.

Her phone was off, but when they came back out into the sunshine and she turned it back on, no doubt there’d be a voice message, or a text.

There wasn’t.

Hope took a long time to die. It felt a bit unwell outside the church, needed oxygen all the way through the reception, and suffered a heart attack when April stepped sideways rather than catch her sister’s tossed bouquet.

Not a word from Matthew.

Not one single, freaking word.

She was sick and tired of checking her phone. Sick and tired of rebuffing enquiries about his absence from concerned relatives. But still hope lingered on life-support. The possibility still existed there was an explanation for his absence. Maybe there was a problem with the flight, maybe he’d missed it.

If so, why hadn’t he rung?

She’d moved into June’s room as the party continued into the night.

He should ring. Should text. She should wait it out.

She texted him. “Where are you?”

Long moments later, he texted back. “I’m sorry, April. I’m not coming.”

Hope took its last breath and died.

*****

Matthew didn’t want to have this conversation by text. He didn’t want to call her either. What needed to be said needed to be face-to-face. Unfortunately the choice he’d made in the airport made that impossible.

He’d booked the flight to Dublin. Had arrived at the airport with plenty of time.

And at the last moment, had chickened out.

The suggestion to join her in Brookbridge had been his; she’d even asked if he were sure. There was no way he could blame her for this situation.

Waiting for the flight to be called, he’d thought about walking back into her family’s life after so many years, so much history. Appearing at the wedding with April was a firm statement of intent. They’d joke how she and Matthew would be next. Would have the whole wedding planned before he’d even made the decision to ask her to marry him. The pressure of conforming to her family’s expectations had brought him out in a cold sweat.

What was between them was between
them
, not the whole goddamned town.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her during the entire time he was in New York. He wanted her with an urgency without limits. But April had said it was just lust, had never said she wanted more. The jump between bed-partner and husband-to-be was too far for him to take.

So before they’d called his flight he’d stepped back to the desk and changed his Dublin ticket for one to London.

And rather than call and explain, Matthew had slunk home and demolished the best part of a bottle of whisky, planning on contacting her tomorrow.

Right now, she’d be looking at his terse text, wondering what on earth was going on with him. Much as he doubted his ability to explain while half drunk and via the useless method of communication available, he had to try.

Her cell switched to voicemail.

He didn’t leave a message.

*****

The Coffee Haven stopped living up to its name a week later. In the middle of the mid-morning rush, when the line of customers desperate for their caffeine-fix stretched to infinity, April almost fell over when she looked up into a familiar pair of navy eyes.

“What can I get you?” With a huge effort of will she resisted the urge to add ‘asshat’.

“You.” Matthew’s gaze was so intense it seemed to reach inside her and squeeze her insides.

“Americano? Cappuccino?”

“As you won’t answer my calls, I’ve come to talk to you.”

Joshua glanced over. “Everything okay, April?”

She smiled at him. “Fine.”

When she glanced back at Matthew, a muscle was pulsing in his jaw.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d give me your order.” She glanced pointedly at the ever-growing queue. “We’re busy, and I’m working.”

“Cappuccino,” he growled.

“Have here or takeaway?”

“Oh I’ll be having it here. I’m not leaving before you talk to me.”

“Move along please.”

She fixed his cappuccino herself, adding a slightly different swirl motif on the top.

He stared at it.

“It’s a J,” she infused her tone with sugar. “For jerk.”

His frown should have made her feel better. He looked terrible, with dark shadows under his eyes and his cheeks was definitely gaunt. She should be cheering at his misery. Instead, she just wished he’d leave.

With a precision honed from years of work, she deftly fixed all manner of coffee-laced concoctions for the long line of customers. Blocking him out was impossible. He perched on a stool near the serving area, ignoring his coffee, and watched her like a lion eyeing a mouse.

When everyone had been served, he walked up to the counter again. “Now, April.”

She glanced over at Joshua. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He nodded, and took over.

She walked around the counter, and stood before Matthew. “I’m working, Matthew. This isn’t convenient.”

His mouth thinned into a tight line. He pushed a hand through his hair. “What time do you finish?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” She shoved her hands into the front pocket of her apron.

“What time.”

She drew in a ragged breath. He’d called her every day, and every day she’d bounced him to voicemail. This couldn’t go on, she was a total wreck. Much as she didn’t want to, they needed to have this conversation so she could put this whole episode behind her. “I finish at four.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a hard kiss that left her breathless, and then he turned and walked out.

“So, who’s Mr. Intense?” Joshua asked when she returned behind the counter.

“He’s someone I used to know.” She really didn’t want to talk to anyone about Matthew. Her body had reacted instantly at his nearness, she’d breathed in his distinctive scent when he’d leaned close. And to her eternal shame, she hadn’t pushed him away when his mouth touched hers. “It’s over.”

Joshua’s blond eyebrows rose. His grin made her wish she could have fallen in love with him rather than Matthew.

“It didn’t look over.”

She crossed her arms. “It’s in the process of becoming over.” Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing Matthew again, after today. He obviously still wanted some sort of relationship, and once upon a time it would have been enough. But not now. Not when she dreamed about him every night, and wanted him with an urgency bordering on obsession.

What was always supposed to be a quick fling, a temporary affair, had changed forever. She didn’t just want Matthew, she craved him. At the wedding, she’d let her mind roam down unfamiliar corridors. She’d fallen in love with Matthew. A man who didn’t love her back.

It had to be over.

There was no sign of Matthew when her shift was done. She tossed her apron in the basket, and slipped her leather jacket on. His absence shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. He’d seemed so determined…

He was waiting at the door to her apartment.

She walked past him, slid her key into the lock with a shaking hand, and stepped into the old iron elevator. He followed, sliding the lattice closed behind them.

She reached for the button, but his hand clasped hers before she could press it.

“April.” He stepped so close his chest brushed against hers. His hands rested on her hips. There was no escaping him, nothing to focus on except him.

She was wearing flat pumps, so he towered over her. With every breath she breathed in his familiar scent. The touch of his large hands on her hips burned through her pleated black skirt.

She glanced up to meet his intense navy gaze that flicked between her mouth and her eyes.

“Don’t…”

Too late.

His mouth lowered, claiming her lips in a masterful kiss. He backed her up to the wall of the lift, moved his hands to bracket her head as he traced the seam of her lips, demanding access.

The sensual assault shredded her defenses. Her body flooded with heat as his tongue brushed against the top of her mouth. Her chest was pressed against his, and her nipples tightened into tight buds beneath her silk bra.

I can’t forgive him, I can’t.

With a groan, April gave in to her body’s urgings and slid her hands up his wide expanse of perfect chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath her fingers. His neck muscles were corded beneath her questing fingers.

He kissed with an urgency that was beyond sexy. 

As her fingers slid into his hair, his mouth travelled down her neck. His hips rocked into hers, pressing a hard erection to the juncture of her thighs.

If I don’t stop this, we’ll be making love in the elevator.

The thought splashed over April like a bucket of cold water. She pushed at his chest. Jerked her head to the side. “Stop.”

Matthew took a step away. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every breath.

Just looking at him hurt. She looked away, and pressed the button juddering the elevator into life.

He didn’t speak until they were inside the apartment with the door closed.

“Do you want a drink?”

“No.”

April strode into the kitchen and pulled an opened bottle of white wine from the fridge. He’d followed her in. She could feel his gaze on her back as she poured the pale liquid into a large goblet. She took a sip. Then turned, holding the glass before her like a shield.

“I should have come to the wedding.”

“Yes. You should. You said you would.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I changed my ticket from Dublin to London at the last minute.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his worn jeans.

“You could have called me.” Anger rose like a wave. “I waited for you.”

“I should have called.” He stepped forward.