Page 4 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

I looked up just in time to see her crossing the room with tears shimmering in her eyes, her hands clasped delicately over her mouth. Smiling because I knew that was what I was supposed to do, I air-kissed her cheek when she reached me.

“Thanks, Mom.”

I supposed I did look perfect, but what did I know anyway? People had been telling me what perfect looked like my entire life and they often said I hit the mark, but it had never felt right. I sure as heck had never felt perfect.

If I was being honest, I’d never really known where I fit into the picture of my own life. I was more of a bystander or a support character than the one steering the ship.

Cathy clapped her hands and swept a hand toward the door. “Alright, everybody ready? Let’s go.”

The makeup artist and hairstylist each offered me a hand, casting one last, critical eye over their handiwork before exchanging a nod, helping me up, and letting me leave. Twenty minutes later, I was walking into my own bridal shower, for which I hadn’t sent the invitations, and found myself looking out at a sea of women I knew and even more I didn’t.

Sparkling chandeliers glittered overhead. Champagne glasses already clinked as expensively dressed guests laughed. Flowers spilled over vases from huge arrangements at the center of each table. All white, of course.

With one sweeping glance around the room, I concluded that most of these women were my mother’s friends or girls my parents believed were my friends simply because our families had been attending the same charity galas since before we could walk. If we traveled in the same social circles, that had to mean they were my tribe.

They weren’t.

On the other side of the room were the women from Daniel’s family. Most of them regarded me with a careful sort of skepticism that made me feel like I might’ve accidentally committed a crime.

I couldn’t blame them, though. They didn’t know me. All they knew was I was the girl marrying their precious son, nephew, and friend.

Despite all that, I moved from group to group, smiling and greeting everyone. As I did, Cathy appeared at my side and ushered me toward a group of photographers near the main doors.

Judging by the notes being scribbled on phones and the candid snaps taken of the room itself, I had no doubt they were reporters. Cathy arranged us in front of the cameras, moving me three inches to the left before shoving a glass of champagne into my hand.

She snapped at a few of the other bridesmaids before finally grinning and looking up and down the line. “Alright, big smiles, everybody!”

I smiled as wide as I could, hoping that would be good enough.

Then, as Cathy took my arm once more and guided me toward our table for the speeches, I finally realized there weren’t only women in this room after all. One man stood slightly apart from everyone else, sticking close to the back wall of the cavernous venue.

Dressed in a suit that clung to his tall frame, he was watching us with an expression trapped somewhere between amusement, concern, and extreme boredom. Same, dude. Same.

Although I couldn’t quite put my finger on who he was, he seemed strangely familiar. Definitely not a random event manager supplied by the venue.

I was still trying to place him when Cathy sat me down in my spot and stood, clinked her glass, and looked out at the room. “If I could have your attention please, everyone.”

She waited until most conversations had fallen silent before launching into a warm welcome that ended with a toast to my and Daniel’s future. I raised my glass and smiled dutifully, but I kept finding myself glancing toward the back of the room.

That man was still there, and try as I might, I couldn’t quite shake him. I still had no idea who he was, but I’d definitely seen him before, and it was driving me nuts not being able to figure it out.

The entire time the toasts were dragging on and on, I wracked my brain, searching for any sign of a memory but finding none. He was hot, though. I’d established that much.

Although I’d established that the moment I’d first spotted him. Whoever he was, his jawline had been given an unfair amount of attention during production. That was for sure.

He was the kind of guy who’d probably left a whole minefield of broken hearts in his wake. Mine wasn’t one of them. That definitely wasn’t how I knew him, but still. In another lifetime, I absolutely would have let him take a stab at breaking other parts of my anatomy.

With a soft sigh, I put my back to him and returned my attention to the woman who was making another toast. She spoke like she knew Daniel, so I assumed she was one of his guests, but I honestly didn’t know.

By the time Cathy finally sat down again, signaling the end of this round of toasts, I shot to my feet and offered her a quick smile. “I’m going to powder my nose. See you in a minute.”

She narrowed her eyes, but I knew that was the one and only excuse she would accept. Finally, she confirmed it with a swift, curt nod of her chin. “Make it quick. We’ve got appetizers coming out soon.”

“Of course.”

I spun around and escaped, managing to keep the smile pasted on my face for precisely as long as it took me to cross the room. As soon as I reached the other end, I pushed open the first set of doors I saw, not even caring when I was hit with a gust of hot air and the clattering of pots, pans, and a few chefs calling instructions to one another.

Great. I’m in the kitchen.