The Surprise Christmas Bride

“You’re wrong, you know,” she said, and he flinched at the pain in her voice. “About us. Age has nothing to do with love, Jake Parrish. And someday you’re going to be sorry you sent me away tonight.”

The memories ended abruptly as those last whispered words echoed in his mind.

He had been sorry.

Every night since.

But especially so tonight.

“So,” she asked, “were you ever sorry?”

Jake turned slowly, inevitably, to face the woman standing in the open doorway of the bedroom. She’d finally gotten out of that wet wedding gown and was now draped in an oversize turquoise bath sheet.

“Sorrier than you’ll ever know,” he admitted finally.

“Good.” Casey walked into the room holding his gaze with hers. Strange, the last time she’d been alone with this man she’d been stark naked. Now she wore only a towel. Judging by the flash of awareness in his eyes, he’d certainly noticed.

She’d only had to glance at him to know that he was reliving that long-ago night. Somehow it made her feel better to know that Jake, too, had regrets. She wondered what he would think if he knew her main regret was that she had allowed him to chase her away.

“Here.” He held out his robe toward her. “You can wear this while I try to find you some sweats or something.”

“Thanks,” she said, and took the robe. She slipped into the garment, pulling it on right over the towel already covering her. Once the terry-cloth belt was tied at her waist, she turned back to him.

“I tossed my dress across the shower rod since it’s still dripping mud. I hope that’s OK.”

“Sure.”

He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

History repeating itself?

“This isn’t exactly how I imagined my wedding night turning out,” she said suddenly on a laugh that held more nervousness than humor.

“What happened?” he asked. “Why are you here and not on some elaborate honeymoon?”

Another choked laugh shot from her throat before she could stop it. “I think the rules are you have to actually be married to go on a honeymoon.”

His gaze narrowed and even in the semidarkness, she could see his familiar scowl.

Casey reached up and pushed her towel-dried but still-damp hair back from her face. Walking to the bed, Casey perched on the edge of the mattress, bracing her heels on the bed frame.

“What happened, Casey?” he asked again.

She set her elbows on her knees, glanced at Jake and shrugged. “Oh, nothing much. My groom decided at the last minute that marrying me wasn’t such a good idea, after all.” Her fingers plucked at the robe’s worn fabric as she talked.

“He didn’t show up?”

How much more humiliation was she supposed to survive in one day? It had been bad enough being jilted. Admitting the facts to Jake was another trip down embarrassment lane. But she supposed she might as well get used to the question. Lord knew she would probably be hearing it from everyone for the next several months.

“Yes,” she finally said, “he was there. Long enough to give one of the ushers a note for me.”

“A note?” Jake’s voice was hard and disbelieving.

She held her breath when he walked to her side and sat down next to her. He made no move to touch her, though, and she didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed.

“Yeah.” She glanced at him and smiled halfheartedly. “It seems Steven suddenly had an urge to visit Mexico.”

“Bastard.”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said, and unconsciously patted his hand. “At least at the time.” But now that she thought about it, she was amazed to discover that the anger that had burst into life so swiftly had disappeared again almost as swiftly. Strange. All she felt now was relief—tinged with lingering traces of humiliation.

She hadn’t been madly in love with Steven. Now she wasn’t sure if she had even loved him at all. She had certainly liked him. Well, at least until today. He was a nice man, from what her mother liked to call a good family. Translation, Casey thought, rich.

Their parents had wanted the match and she and Steven had simply drifted into it. She couldn’t even recall her ex-fiancе actually proposing. It had simply been taken for granted.

She scowled, lifted one hand and rubbed at her forehead. The mother of all headaches was just beginning to throb.

“I’m sorry, Casey.”

“Why?” she asked. “You weren’t the one rejecting me this time.”

“Let’s not go there, all right?”

“Why not?” She turned her head and looked directly into his eyes. The eyes she used to dream about. “This is my wedding night, after all. What better thing to at least talk about than sex? Or the lack thereof.”

“I left the kettle on,” he said, and moved to get up. “Why don’t we go and get you some hot tea?”

“I turned it off when the water boiled,” she told him, and waved him back down to the mattress.

“Casey,” he said, and shifted a bit farther from her, “you’ve had a bad day. Why not just get some sleep, huh?”

“I don’t want to sleep, Jake.” In fact, she’d never been more awake. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have considered seeking him out and asking him about that night—but now that the fates had provided her with the opportunity, she really wanted to know just why he’d turned her away.