Stealing the Groom (7 page)

After trying on several dresses, Amelia finally found a knee-length white sheath dress with an open back, covered by lace

If the straitjacket fit…

Turning first one way and then another to look at herself in the mirror, she hoped that if there was a million-to-one chance she’d get married someday for real, she wouldn’t have the same hollow feeling in her stomach. But she doubted it. Marriage tied a woman down.

Leaving the dress on, she found a pair of white shoes that were only slightly too small. She hoped Chad was faring better. She knew he was quietly accepting their fate on the outside because of what was at stake with his company. Inside, he was probably as upset as she was. All that was left for her now was to wait.

She was seated on an upholstered bench, fanning her face, contemplating her next move when Chad approached.

Wearing a new black suit with a tie undone and hanging loosely down the crisp white dress shirt, Chad didn’t look like best-friend Chad. He looked like handsome-do-damage-to-her-heart-if-she-wasn’t-careful Chad.

He hadn’t shaved so he had the five o’clock shadow from this morning. Shifting her gaze away from how good he looked, she tugged at the material of her dress and then smoothed it gently back into place. “I’ve heard nothing about a holdup with the marriage license, so it’s easy to conclude that somehow our grandfathers got it pushed through. It seems we’re approaching the no-turn-back zone. Now would be a good time for one of your famous plans.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the end of a display cabinet holding an assortment of clutch purses. His gaze trapped hers, studying, assessing, his eyes giving no hint of what he was thinking.

When he spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion. “I don’t have a plan A or even a B, Ame. I seem to be stuck in the middle of plan C.” He shrugged when he finished speaking.

Amelia waved toward the store’s large picture window, her voice low and desperate. “We have to do
something
. They’re all out there waiting for us and if we don’t formulate a plan, then in about ten minutes you and I are going to become man and wife.”

“You should have thought about that before you ran off with me and ruined things with my first fiancée. And I’m not going to give up my family’s company for an old man’s eccentric whim.”

“But I don’t want to marry you and you don’t want to marry me.” She hesitated, licked her dry lips, then added, “Do you?”

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Three heartbeats.

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I already told you that I don’t. But I’m fresh out of options.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a set of ring cases. “My grandfather picked these up at the jewelry store. They’re plain gold bands, but then again, this isn’t a match made in heaven so I’m assuming it doesn’t matter to you.”

She laughed despite herself. “Calling me and you a match made in heaven is like saying the Grand Canyon is a little hole in the ground.”

“Fortunately, we’ve only got to survive six months of this before my grandfather gives me the company shares,” he observed.

“Think a marriage between reluctant partners is where television producers got the idea for those survival story shows?”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

She frowned and he asked what was on her mind.

“I don’t know. Just a feeling I’ve got about all this. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“We’re getting married. Of course it doesn’t feel right,” he said impatiently.

Amelia sighed, wondering if the thought of getting married had made her paranoid. “I guess you’re right.”

He handed her the case containing a wedding band for him. “Time to clean up another one of your messes. Shall we?”

“Be patient. I’ll think of something,” Amelia said, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm.

“Will that be before or after our twentieth wedding anniversary?”

“Ha ha. We’ll just make one of those lists you’re so crazy about. With lists, life always runs smoothly.” She patted his arm.

“Dammit, Ame. This is really not the time for you to poke fun.”

Using humor helped her keep the panic at bay. She’d wanted to protect him from the wrong bride, not
become
the bride. She liked her lifestyle just fine, thank you. Part of her wanted to fling caution to the wind and say to hell with it.

Part of her wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

She slid a glance toward him. Who knew? Maybe this unexpected glitch would end up working out well for both of them. She could relax knowing his future was safe and he could relax knowing Walker Industries wouldn’t tank. Win-win situation all the way around. Plus, while she was acting as his wife, she could implement a little plan of her own. She could teach Chad how to stop being all work and no play. Even if he fought against it—and she didn’t doubt that he would—he could learn how to be impetuous. How to live in the moment, to enjoy life for once in his adult life. Yes! She could do that for him.

Pleased that something she’d set in motion might not end up a dismal flop after all, Amelia’s heart lightened.

They covered the short distance to the wedding chapel with Amelia walking determinedly forward. She was willing to bet Chad would thank her for this one day. He’d realize she’d done it all out of concern.

Henry was standing at the door waving at them. “Are you two ready?”

She nodded as Chad said, “As we’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Well, come on in!”

They followed him to the front. He took a seat next to her grandfather in the first row, then Chad faced her and took one of her hands in his, grimacing slightly.

Her smile slipped slightly.

Five o’clock shadow. Those blue eyes. The way that suit fit. The warmth of his hand. When the hell had he morphed into the poster boy for sexy?

She wasn’t exactly sure what the reverend said. It all sounded like “blah, blah, blah” to her because she couldn’t stop thinking about Chad.

Before long, they exchanged rings and then the reverend pronounced them husband and wife.

Chad leaned forward. Oh. The kiss. Of course. It was expected of them. Not a problem. She could keep in mind that while they were real friends, this wasn’t a real marriage. She didn’t want him
that
way and he didn’t want her. She leaned forward to meet him. Calm and in control.

Then his lips moved on hers.

She kissed him back with an embarrassing amount of enthusiasm.

When she finally located her self-control, she put it back to work and stepped away, turning to face their grandfathers.

“The jet is waiting. We’ll head back to Sweet Creek now,” Henry announced with a satisfied grin.

“One more thing,” the man who ran the ceremony said. “We’ll need your signature.”

The marriage license. She didn’t know how the grandfathers had managed to pull this off, but she was sure it entailed a lot of zeros on a check.

In the limousine taking them to the airport, Chad sat right up against her until Amelia shifted. “Don’t you have some room over there?”

The poster boy for sexiness raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because you’re almost on top of me.” Her face reddened and thankful he couldn’t read her mind, she said, “Just move, will you?”

“Wow. Isn’t that a world record for nagging?” He made a show of looking at his watch. “Married less than twenty minutes.”

She must have grimaced because he asked, “Are you sick?” then reached over and pressed his hand against her forehead.

She jerked away from his touch.

“Oh, I get it. This is the precursor for ‘Honey, I have a headache.’” He patted her thigh. “Relax. We’ll set some rules in place and make sure this remains a hands-off relationship.”

“There’s no need for me to fake a headache. There’s no need for rules because a hands-on relationship never occurred to me.” She poked him in the side.

She was still trying to figure out how the hell she’d ended up becoming Mrs. Chad Walker.

…

Given the way she’d kissed him at the altar, Chad wasn’t so sure he believed her. His pride was tempted to prove her wrong but that would be like poking a mama bear in the butt. He was the one who’d get bitten.

As the residential part of the town slid into an industrial area and then led toward the airport where his grandfather’s private plane was, Chad tugged at the tie around his neck.

He was married.
To Amelia.
He’d have to come up with a list of dos and don’ts so that the both of them would survive the next six months relatively unscathed. Good idea, he congratulated himself. All they had to do was stick to the rules.

His gaze touched on her lips. He swallowed. Rule number one would be no kissing his wife. When she moved so that her leg rubbed his, he decided rule number two would definitely be no touching.

“Look at that!” She rested her hand on his thigh and pointed to a ’57 Chevy parked in one of the spots at the airport. “I love classic cars,” she sighed.

Rule number three would be a straitjacket for him so he didn’t break rules one and two.

When they settled in the private jet, Amelia leaned from her seat to his and whispered, “I do feel bad about this mistake.”

“A mistake is getting drunk and hitting on your best friend’s girlfriend. This goes way beyond that.”

She crossed her arms, pulling the dress snug across her breasts, and Chad scrambled for rule number four.
No kissing, no touching, get a straitjacket, don’t look
.

“You’re acting strange. What’s wrong with you?” She gave him an exasperated look.

He could’ve jumped for joy when Henry handed him a stack of papers. “Sorry, Ame. Looks like I’ve got some business reports to go over,” he said in the most dismissive tone he could muster. She didn’t move so he said more kindly, “I really need to be on top of these, Amelia. After the night we had last night and the day we had today, can’t you just give me the time to look over these?”

“Fine,” Amelia said, rising to go to the back of the plane.

Damn. He knew that tone. All was
not
fine.

As she rose, Amelia placed a hand on his shoulder and said loud enough for her voice to carry to their grandfathers. “Darling, can we have a moment of privacy first?”

He rose to join her, his body too close to her delightfully curvy one for his peace of mind. Taking a hasty step back, he said, “Fine.”

He followed her to the back of the plane, trying not to notice the sway of her hips.

She rounded on him as soon as they left the main cabin. “Fine is my word. You don’t get ‘fine.’”

He shut the door behind them and yanked off his tie, throwing it down on the queen-size bed. “I’m the one acting strange? Since when did you care what words either of us used? Or is that one of your rules?”

“What rules?”

“There have to be rules in any relationship, Amelia. Especially when something happens to change the dynamics of the relationship. We’ll need rules. I’d hate for you to make a pass at me and feel embarrassed when I turn you down.”

Her mouth fell open and then with a slap to his ego, she laughed. “Sounds like you’ve got me all figured out. I couldn’t wait to be alone with you just so we could spend the next hour making love.”

The next hour?
She was killing him.

She kicked her shoes off and wiggled her toes in the luxurious carpet. “We need to celebrate our wedding night,” she announced.

“Amelia, I will not make love to you.”

“Please. I wasn’t suggesting that. I was thinking more like opening a bottle of champagne or something.”

“Oh. And what will we drink to?”

“Our friendship.”

He took off his jacket and tossed it on the bed, then rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “I remember you don’t know how to hold your alcohol.”

“I was
fourteen
, Chad. I had no business drinking. I was nervous and trying to work up the courage to ask for my first kiss.”

“Ame…”

“No, it’s okay. I’m over the complete humiliation of that day, but I do blame you for the fact that my first kiss was a total dud.” She winked at him.

“It worked out for the best. I would have hated setting the bar so high for the next guy.”

She laughed. “Get out of here so you can finish up your work.”

Chad laughed and stepped out. In the hallway, he exhaled and closed his eyes. Rule number five. He would not fantasize about his wife.

…

Back in the home where she’d grown up, Amelia stepped into the claw-foot bathtub and with a sigh of appreciation, slid beneath the warm, bubbly suds. The scent of coconut jasmine floated from the water.

She rested her head against the bath pillow, her muscles relaxing in the heat of the water.

Chad had instructed the limousine driver to drop him off at the office, then take her home. It was seven o’clock at night for heaven’s sake. He couldn’t even take a night off on his wedding night?

Fake wedding night
, she reminded herself. So far, her plan to show Chad how to be more spontaneous wasn’t working out so well if she couldn’t get him to even pretend to be with her.

Six months.
No escape.
Amelia groaned. The urge to run had hit her the night she’d learned what happened to her parents and it had never let up. She didn’t like that part of herself—that desire to run when she couldn’t make things right, the fear that if she stayed in one place too long she’d screw up again and lose someone else she loved.

But maybe with Chad, if she was careful, she could make things right for him.

She still hadn’t told her sisters about the wedding yet, but she would. Other than her marital status and this strange new desire to cross from friends to lovers with her sexy husband, she’d decided the wedding hadn’t changed her life and didn’t need to.