Page 16 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

Marcus didn’t answer immediately, his lips pressing into a line as his chest rose on a deep inhale. He blew it back out again through his nostrils before he finally swiped his tongue across his lips. “This needs to stay between us.”

“Obviously,” I said. “I’ve already told you. That goes without saying.”

“No, but I really mean it.” He held my gaze. “Let’s shake on it. I need you to swear that you will never tell another soul.”

My eyebrows rose up, my heart doing this strange squeeze in my chest, but finally, I took a step forward and slid my palm against his outstretched hand. “Yeah. Okay, I swear, but this is getting kind of weird.”

He let out a dry chuckle as he released my hand. “It’s about to get even weirder.”

“I figured.”

“No one knows about this except Maggie and me, but our father’s father had a secret cottage in Deerfield Massachusetts.”

I blinked a few times in rapid succession. “A secret cottage? Why?”

He shrugged. “Maybe owning a few massive estates wasn’t enough or maybe he just wanted someplace he could get away to. I honestly don’t know what drove him to buy it back in the day, but he did. He was obsessed with the Revolutionary War. He collected everything about it that he could get his hands on. Books, maps, documents. You name it. He kept the entire collection in that cottage.”

“So you think that’s where she went?” I asked, not really knowing if I believed that. “Why?”

“Because our grandfather took the secret to his grave. Maggie and I are the only people he ever told. Well, told is a strong word.”

“What do you mean?”

“It turned out that he left the place to me, but we never spoke about it. After he died, this strange messenger dude just showed up with the deed and Maggie happened to be in the room with me when it was delivered.”

“You never told anyone else?”

“Not a soul.” He pulled out his phone, and a moment later, mine buzzed. “I’ve sent you the address. That’s where she’ll be, Ryan.”

“Okay, but why tell me?” Unease slithered into my gut as I looked back at him. I didn’t like this even a little bit, but I had a feeling I knew where he was going with this. “I hardly even know her anymore, Marcus. You should go.”

“She won’t listen to me,” he said firmly, shoving a hand through his hair. “Which is probably fair considering that I wasn’t listening to her properly before, but you’re the only one here who knew she’d run. She left you the ring. If anyone has a shot at getting through to her at this point, it’s you.”

Marcus pushed away from the table. “Go get her, and be quiet about it, Ryan. I’ll hold down the fort here, but I’m counting on you to bring my sister back.”

CHAPTER 8

MAGGIE

I’d managed to get myself a new phone, but I was seriously regretting not getting a new number too as I listened to my father shout through the brand new device pressed against my ear. “You need to come home right now, Maggie! I mean it. Right. Now.”

I looked around the quaint coffee shop I’d found in Deerfield and wondered if anyone else had ever had to navigate a family meltdown in this charming little place. There were mismatched chairs, crooked paintings, tiny tables, and a chalkboard advertising drinks containing lavender and oat milk.

As soon as I’d spotted it from across the street, I’d loved it. I sat in the sunshine at a table on the sidewalk, enjoying the warmth on my skin even as I listened to my father rip into me from over a hundred miles away.

Provided he was back in New York by now. Otherwise, he was managing to tear me apart all the way from California.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, but I can’t do that,” I said calmly, closing my eyes and tipping my face toward the sun. “I just need to be alone for a while.”

“Where the hell are you?” he snapped.

I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’m safe. That’s all I’m willing to say.”

“You are not fine. You ran out of your own wedding. Clearly, you’ve suffered some kind of mental break.”

“No, actually. I’m finally thinking clearly. I’m further from the mental break now than I have been for months.”

“Maggie.” He dragged out my name on a grumbled warning. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”