The Goodbye Bride (6 page)

The food congealed in her stomach. She pushed her plate back.

His hand moved across the stove top, working fast. His words
were measured, careful. “When I couldn't get hold of you, I figured you were done. We were done. I called the florist and the photographer and the bakery and every guest on our wedding list and told them the wedding was off.”

A yawning ache opened in her middle. Her eyes stung hard. This was horrible. She couldn't have ditched him like that. She wouldn't have done that to him. Not to Zac.

“But you did.”

She hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud. Her face was warm, like she'd sat out in the sun too long.

“Something must've . . . I don't know how . . . It doesn't make any sense to me at all.”

“Well, that makes two of us.” Zac pitched the rag into the sink and turned to her, drawing a deep breath. Two. His chest rose and fell, and she got a little inkling of the pain she'd caused.

No wonder he was treating her so differently. No wonder his brother was so mad. He was protective of Zac. She wanted to continue to deny what he was saying. As much as she loved Zac, she couldn't even imagine bailing on him like that.

But then she remembered other instances. Times before she'd even known Zac, when leaving was exactly what she'd done. Who she'd been. Other times when her feelings for Zac had scared her down to the marrow of her bones.

She watched him gather himself, and she wanted to walk over to the sink and comfort him. She wanted him to lift her onto the counter, like she was a little bit of nothing. She wanted to kiss him until she made all his pain disappear. Until they both forgot everything that had happened.

But he wouldn't welcome her comfort or her kisses.

“I—I can hardly believe I did that. But if I did—”

“You did.”

“I'm awful sorry. It doesn't seem real. I can't even imagine why I'd—” She shook her head. “I love you, Zac.”

A shadow flickered as his jaw twitched. “Stop saying that. It isn't doing anybody any good.”

She blinked the tears away. “But it's true. I still feel like our wedding is days away. I still want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Emotion tightened the corners of his mouth. “Well, you won't when you get your memory back. You were headed down the aisle toward someone else, remember?”

The cords of his neck stood out, and his jaw was knotted, his eyes tight. “Listen. Let's just focus on gathering information today. Let's figure this out. Get you back to your life and your job and your—”

Fiancé.

His lips flattened. He grabbed her plate and glass and set them in the kitchen sink. “I'll be in my office. Maybe you should get some rest.”

Chapter 7

Z
ac dropped his head back against his office chair and stifled the urge to throw his laptop across the room.

How could it be so hard? It was a wedding, for crying out loud. Weddings were announced. They were publicized. And yet he couldn't find one mention of Lucy's wedding anywhere on any Portland site. He'd looked up her name in the
Portland Press Herald
and in the
Daily Sun.
He'd Googled her name with “wedding” and “engagement.” He'd checked the social media sites to see if she'd joined the rest of the world sometime over the past seven months. She hadn't.

Of course not. She didn't want you to find her.

He drew in a deep breath and blew it out, his eyes drifting over to the sofa where Lucy had lost her battle with fatigue. She'd followed him into the office hours earlier, much to his dismay. He needed to keep as much distance between them as possible, and she wasn't making it easy. Looking at him with those soft blue eyes. Saying things he'd only dreamed of hearing since she'd left.

She was easy to read, an open book. He could see the guilt in her eyes and the remorse in the slope of her shoulders. In the
kitchen she'd reached out a hand as if she'd wanted to comfort him. But just as quickly, it had fallen to her side. Just as well.

How many times had he gone over those days before she left, trying to figure out why she'd done it? It was true he'd been distracted. Moody. Had he chased her away? Or had she never even loved him as she should have? There'd be no answers for him now. Not unless her memory returned.

She helped him with ideas as he researched, offering quiet suggestions. But he sensed her conflicting emotions. She wanted to help, but she wasn't eager to return to Portland. She made no bones about that.

Well, that was too bad. She'd wanted it seven months ago. He'd darn well figure this out and get her back home.

Resolved, he went back to work, trying to ignore the little sounds she made in her sleep. She'd dozed off right where she sat, her head drooping against the wingback part of the sofa. The quilt he'd used last night was spread across her. Okay, so he'd put it there awhile ago when he'd needed to stretch his legs. She'd been curled up in a ball like she was cold. What was he supposed to do?

Frowning, he forced his mind back to his search.

What else? What wasn't he thinking of? The wedding license. Were those a matter of public record? He did a search, his spirits buoying when he discovered they were. There were even online records!

He scrolled quickly to the bottom of the page where the county links were. His eyes scanned the counties once. Twice. Cumberland wasn't on the list. They didn't offer the online feature. His spirits sank again. So many roadblocks.

He'd have to wait until they opened tomorrow. He'd get the
name of her fiancé from the license, then he'd track the guy down. He hated the delay, but maybe he'd find something else yet today.

His eyes swung to the sofa again, to Lucy with her hair sticking up at all angles. With her small hand curled under her delicate chin, her long lashes kissing the tops of her cheeks. She looked so vulnerable. She hadn't been herself since he'd pulled up to the curb in Portland. She was lost and confused, and it pulled at every protective instinct he had. But she wasn't his to protect anymore.

She made a little
hmm
sound as she resituated, curling into the sofa arm and letting out a soft sigh. Where had the bold, quirky Lucy gone? The one who'd snagged his attention the moment she'd walked into his restaurant? Maybe time hadn't stopped when she'd entered his world, but it had seemed to.

His brothers were hanging around that evening, the first day of the year that was warm enough to make people believe spring really was on its way. There was a jubilant feeling in the air. The Red Sox home opener had ended in a triumphant win over the Phillies, and the town was in the mood to celebrate.

The jukebox cranked out country tunes, and a few brave souls danced on the wide-open space in front of it. A rowdy game of pool ensued in the back room, and his well-staffed kitchen was hopping. His servers scurried around with fragrant trays of buffalo wings, seafood platters, and bowls of chowder.

With all the commotion, people coming and going, he didn't even know what it was that pulled his eyes to the door the minute she walked in. Dark hair framed a pixie face that seemed lit from within. She wore a pair of fitted jeans, a glittery black top, and
a pair of high-heeled boots that made her legs go on forever. A blingy leather bag was slung over her shoulder.

He was no fashion expert, but she looked a little upscale for Summer Harbor. She was alone, but she had a confident air about her that said she didn't mind her own company.

She paused in the entry, probably wondering if she should seat herself. He had just begun to move from behind the counter when Beau intercepted her on his way to the poolroom. After a quick exchange she headed toward a small empty table across the room.

A server called for help, and Zac got lost in his work for a while. Correcting a customer's order, refilling drinks, cleaning up a spill in the poolroom.

The next time he had a chance to look up, her table was empty, and disappointment settled like a weight in his gut. But a few seconds later he found her on the dance floor, moving fluidly to “Country Girl.
”
Nice moves. She was short with subtle curves. Compact. Tousled brown hair moving around her shoulders.

He liked women of all sizes and shapes, but because of his height he tended toward tall women, usually willowy ones with short hair. But he suddenly felt like he'd been missing out.

Several local women were dancing near her, and she was chatting them up like they were old friends. She smiled at something one of them said, and two adorable dimples came out to play.

He fought the urge to make the sign of the cross—and he wasn't even Catholic.

“Something catch your eye?” Riley sank onto an empty stool in front of him.

His younger brother was built like a tank, barrel-chested, his arms thick and strong from his days on the lobster boat. At just under six feet he was the shortest of the three Callahan brothers.

“She's cute, huh?” Riley was watching the new girl dance.

“Cute” didn't do her justice. The upbeat song faded away, replaced by the poignant strains of “I Don't Dance.” Jared Watkins, one of his old schoolmates, swept her up in his arms, and Zac felt a prickle of annoyance.

“She's from the South,” Riley said.

Zac pulled his eyes from the dance floor. “How do you know?”

“She asked me where the restroom was. Nice, slow Southern drawl. Tennessee, maybe.”

“Naw.” Beau appeared on the stool next to Riley. “You see those boots? I'm guessing Texas.”

Riley gave a laugh. “Not even close.”

“Can I get a refill, bro?” Beau asked Zac. “Ten says I'm right.” He fished a ten-spot from his wallet and slapped it on the counter.

“You're on.” Another ten landed on the bar. “You in, Zac?”

“Sure.” He refilled Beau's glass, then fished a bill from his pocket. “It'll give me a reason to talk to her.”

“Like you needed one.” Riley smirked. “You've been eyeing her since she walked through the door.”

Beau quirked a brow. “Aw, that's so cute. You smitten, little bro?”

Zac shot him a look as he moved to take a drink order from a fellow down the counter.

“Better hurry up before Jared stakes his claim.”

“She kind of looks like the chick in that movie,” Beau said. “Mandy something. What was it . . .?” He snapped his fingers. “
A Walk to Remember
.”

Zac lifted a brow.

“Don't judge. It was a date.”

Zac's eyes swung to the dance floor on his way to the kitchen. He fetched a seafood sampler and delivered it to the end of the bar.
When he returned, he took a phone call from a customer's wife, asking Zac to tell her husband to stop on the way home for a gallon of milk. By the time he passed on the message, the slow dance was over and the dance floor was hopping again. The object of his attention was right in the middle of it all.

He caught up with his brothers between customers, and a few songs later a flash of glitter caught his eye. He turned to see the pretty girl approaching the counter. Her eyes sparkled as they settled on him.

His mouth dried up, and his entire body started buzzing like a neon sign.

She walked with an easy grace, her hips swaying just a little in those trendy jeans, her chin tilted at a jaunty angle.

He felt his lips turn up of their own accord. He was vaguely aware of his brothers talking but couldn't be bothered to listen.

She didn't take her eyes from him as she neared the bar. She smoothly pulled out an empty stool, hitched her hip, and . . .

Missed.

She wobbled for a moment, then caught her balance before he could lean across the bar.

“Whoopsie,” she said.

Twin flags of pink brightened her cheeks, and he fell just a little in love with her right then.

She righted herself on the stool, cleared her throat, then turned her eyes up to his. Blue, with flecks of silver. Mesmerizing.

“Guess I danced my legs right off.” She bit her lip. “That's a lie. Actually I'm just a little clumsy sometimes. A lot of times. Okay, most of the time.”

He gave her a crooked grin, her slow drawl weaving around him like a spell. “I find that hard to believe. What can I get you, Georgia?”

Surprise flared in her eyes before they narrowed on him. “How'd you know where I'm from?”

He barely heard Beau's and Riley's groans over the music.

Not taking his eyes off her, Zac scooped up the bills and shoved them into his pocket. “I have an ear for accents. Lots of people pass through.”

“Can I get a sweet tea?” she asked.

“Coming right up.” Zac filled a glass with ice and tea.

A mutual friend of his brothers' showed up, and Zac was glad when they drifted away from the bar, leaving him alone with Georgia.

He set the tea in front of her and braced his elbows on the counter, praying everyone would leave him alone for two seconds. “What brings you to Summer Harbor?”

She shrugged a slender shoulder. “Just doing a little traveling up this way.”

“Passing through?”

She tilted her head. “I don't know. I like the feel of this town. Nice vibe.” Her ice tinkled against the glass as she played with her straw. “I might stick around awhile.”

That was the best news he'd heard all week. “What's your name? Or should I just keep calling you Georgia?”

She sighed, her piercing eyes never leaving his. “Yes, please,” she whispered.

He quirked a brow.

Her eyes took on a deer-in-headlights look as the pink on her cheeks deepened. “I said that out loud, didn't I?”

“You kinda did.”

“I do that sometimes. Add it to the long list of ways in which I embarrass myself.”

He chuckled. Everything about her was so . . . delightfully unexpected. And he could listen to that drawl of hers all night.