Have Husband, Need Honeymoon

“Mom, I told you I didn’t want to go to the parade.”

She smiled sweetly, cranked up her Thunderbird and tore down the highway, ignoring his protests as she launched into complaints about the recent drought. “We haven’t been able to water the lawn for weeks. They’ve got us on one of those rotating schedules.”

“Yeah, the water police come around daily to check,” his sister said with a giggle.

Brady tried to smile, thinking the dying grass and shrubs resembled the way he felt inside.

“Honey, we’re so proud you’re here,” his mother chirped. “You know one reason we have the parade is to honor the veterans, especially men who’ve given their lives for us.” She gestured toward his leg. “And all those who’ve been injured.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Mom, we haven’t been at war lately. And I wasn’t hurt in battle.” Quite the opposite, he thought, as renewed guilt gripped his stomach.

“Nevertheless, your father served our country. He’d want you to be there in his place to honor the veterans just as he always did.”

Brady’s throat closed. That he couldn’t argue with. He did respect veterans and all other soldiers, but he could never take his father’s place. God knows he’d tried. He’d failed miserably, though.

“Relax, it’ll be fun,” Vivica whispered. She leaned over the edge of his seat and patted his leg. “All your old friends will be there. Johnny and Bobby Raye and, oh, Alison will probably be there, too. I think her daddy, Wiley, is the grand marshal of the parade. You know he was in the navy himself when he was young.”

Brady glared at Vivica, but an image of Wacky Wiley Hartwell as grand marshal flashed in his mind, and he couldn’t contain a smile. Wiley had a reputation for cheesy, funny advertising stunts and was somewhat the clown of Sugar Hill. But the last time Brady had seen the man in person, Wiley hadn’t been happy. He’d just discovered he had a son-in-law, had reared up like a mother bear protecting its baby cub, and ordered Alison to get an annulment.

“Is he still as flamboyant as ever?” Brady asked.

“Is he ever!” Vivica said. “I heard he wore a ruffled shirt to Hannah’s and Mimi’s weddings.”

“Last Thanksgiving he had live turkeys in one of his used-car ads,” his mother added with a chuckle. “I thought they were going to gobble up the old coot.”

“Alison said he’s wearing his Uncle Sam top hat and coat for the parade,” Vivica added.

Brady tried not to react to the sound of Alison’s name as he rubbed at his leg. The familiar scenery along the north Georgia highway rolled past, the parched grass and dry ground evidence of the drought across the southeast.

“Is your leg bothering you much?” his mother asked, her voice riddled with concern.

He ground his teeth, not wanting to worry her. “It’s fine, Mom.”

Vivica must have sensed his discomfort. “It’ll be like new with some therapy. Just wait till I work my magic hands on him, Mom.”

“I can’t wait,” Brady mumbled. “I’ve heard you’re worse than a drill sergeant.”

“Whatever cures ya,” Vivica said with a wink.

He gave her a grateful half smile, but she ruined his mood. “By the way, did I tell you Alison’s dating—”

“About a dozen times already.” He sighed and lay his head back, pretending disinterest. “I think I’ll rest until we get there. It was a long flight.” And another long, sleepless night.

Vivica lapsed into silence and he silently cursed himself for being short with her. But he didn’t want pity, not for his injuries, not for his personal life. He’d sit through the parade, then hightail it back to his mother’s.

An hour later, they pulled into town, and he grimaced. The town square had been roped off, rerouting traffic in a wide loop to avoid food vendors, crafters and various other booths. The town bustled with activity, with locals eating hot dogs, preparing for an old-fashioned cakewalk, watering the ponies for the kids. His mother parked and they got out of the car—right in front of some town dignitaries. To his surprise, the mayor greeted him personally.

“Let me shake the hand of one of our own heroes.” Mayor Stone pumped his hand, his ruddy face already flushed from the activities, a glob of unabsorbed sunscreen puddling on his bald head.

Brady’s tongue completely tied itself into a knot with denials, but the mayor gave him no time for a reply. He immediately helped him onto a huge float draped in red-white-and-blue crepe paper resembling the flag. Brady felt like a fake among the other veterans as they rode down Main Street, waving at the kids and throwing candy. Children shouted while music blared from the high school band. The cheerleaders marched and chanted the familiar high school cheers. Shriners zipped by in go-carts, doing wheelies to entertain the crowd. Clowns passed out balloons to the children, followed by several antique cars carrying local beauty contestants—Little Miss Sugar Hill, Miss Teenage Sugar Hill, Little Mr. Sugar Hill. Unfortunately, the veterans float followed the line dancers and horses—a bad choice, Brady realized, when two of the huge mares decided to relieve themselves in front of them.

Oblivious to the problem, Wacky Wiley belted out a speech about all the servicemen and women and how they were heroes for their country, naming each person on the float. The high school band burst into a slightly off-key version of “The Star Spangled Banner” in the background.

Brady grimaced when Wiley called his name, his mind shouting that he wasn’t a hero, that he didn’t deserve to be up here with these other men. But Wiley continued, and Brady scanned the crowd for familiar faces. He spotted a few of his high school teachers, the football coach he used to think hung the moon, some high school football buddies. Hannah Hartwell was standing beside a big, dark-headed guy, her arm tucked in his. Must be the cop Vivica said she’d married. A pregnant Mimi Hartwell stood beside them next to a sandy-haired man.

Finally he spotted her—Alison.

Beautiful sweet Alison wedged in the crowd, yet sticking out from all the others like a diamond in a case full of cut glass. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She’d trimmed her waist-length black hair to her shoulders, but the shorter length made her look even more lively than ever. Though she was still tall and slender, her curves appeared more pronounced, more womanly and enticing, especially in that slinky, pale blue sundress. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to savor the sight of her, to remember what it felt like to hold her, to kiss those tender lips, to touch those luscious breasts with his hands, to have made her his wife….

The float jerked, then inched on, turning the corner by the hardware store, and Brady’s gaze landed on the man beside her. Medium build, dull brown hair, scrawny, probably couldn’t bench-press his own weight. He had to be Emerson, the doctor she was dating. Even if Vivica hadn’t warned him, Brady would have known by the way the man was looking at her, drooling like a Saint Bernard.

Damn. He thought he’d been prepared to see her with another man, but he wasn’t. The anguish nearly made his good leg buckle.

Just as he grabbed the edge of the float for support, Alison looked up from the crowd. Their gazes collided, locked. Time slipped away…. The driver whipped the float around the corner and Brady leaned forward, craning his head so he could still see her. But the float jerked again and he toppled off headfirst, right into the horse’s behind in front of him.

ALISON’S FINGERS SLID from Thomas’s hand and fluttered to her chest. Brady Broussard was riding on the float. Dear heavens, she hadn’t been prepared for the sight of him in that Air Force uniform.

Or the fact that he simply stared right through her as if she wasn’t there.

Hurt clogged her throat, pushing tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away, furious at herself for still caring. And for still being mesmerized by the man.

And he was definitely a man now—bigger, more muscular, tougher looking. She’d known all that thick black hair would be cut military style, but she hadn’t imagined it showcasing the strong angles and planes of his face so well. The man was twice as sexy as he’d been in high school and college.

But more distant than ever.

Thomas yanked on her hand and a wave of dizziness assaulted her. She couldn’t marry Thomas when she already had a husband, especially when they still had things unresolved between them. Like their annulment.

“You want a soda or one of those snow cones, Ali?” Thomas asked.

Dear heavens, he was always so considerate, and here she was—a married woman dating him, and she hadn’t even told him.

She shook her head. “No, but we need to talk.”

Horns blasted from the parade, the fire engine blared its siren, children screamed and the grand finale—a pig named Elmer that had placed first prize at the country fair, and its owner, the winner of the hog-calling contest—rolled past, emitting grunts and squeals that could wake the dead.

The crowd began to disperse, all heading toward the festivities. Mimi waved. “I’d better get to the coffee shop. We’ll be bombarded all day.”

Seth curved his arm protectively around Mimi and guided her through the crowd. “And I’m going along to make sure she doesn’t overdo it.”

“We’ll check out the booths. I see some dolls to add to my collection,” Hannah said.

“Uh, I think I have to help direct traffic,” Jake teased.

Hannah laughed and yanked Jake’s hand, leading him away. “No, you don’t. You promised me the entire day.”

Alison laughed and waved to several people she knew, but Thomas coaxed her the other way, ending up beneath the awning of Sugar Hill’s Hotspot, the new coffee shop-bookstore Mimi and their cousin Rebecca co-owned.

Thomas folded Alison’s hands in his and pressed them to his chest. She could feel his heart beating, could see the anticipation in his eyes. “You look great today, Ali.”

She smiled, wishing she could sugarcoat what she had to say. Thomas was just so darn nice. “I…we have to talk.”

“I know. I hope you’ve been thinking about my proposal.”

She inhaled a deep breath. “I have, Thomas, and you’re a wonderful guy.”

His smile slipped slightly. “Uh-oh, that sounds like the beginning of a brush-off.”

She pulled her hands free and laid one hand against his cheek. She wanted to love him. She just needed time to talk to Brady, sort out this annulment, put the past behind her forever. “I need some more time, Thomas. It feels like we’re rushing things.”

He studied her for a long moment, his expression calm and understanding. “Okay, take all the time you need. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

He was too good to be true.

Alison pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Thomas.”

Before she could elaborate, Vivica bounced up behind her. “Ali! Hey, look who’s here.”

Alison spun around, her breath whooshing out when she saw Brady standing beside her.

BRADY’S JAW ACHED from forcing a smile on his face. He’d been congratulated by at least a dozen people when he’d gotten off the float. Thankfully, Vivica had rescued him and heralded him through the crowd. Now he knew why. She’d purposely dragged him right to Alison.

When he’d seen Alison kiss Emerson Brady had clenched his jaw harder, bitten his tongue and almost cracked a tooth.

“Dr. Emerson, this is my brother, Brady,” Vivica said, smoothing over the awkward moment by launching into a long diatribe about how she and Brady had known Alison in high school. Brady shook the man’s hand, studying Alison out of the corner of his eye. He tried to read her reaction—hurt, anger, disappointment or a combination of them all?

She had a right to be hurt, he thought. He had broken promises, stopped writing, sent her letters back even after she’d pleaded with him to write and explain what had happened to change his feelings toward her.

She’d be even more disappointed if she knew the truth about him now.

“Brady, aren’t you going to give your old friend a hug?” Vivica nudged him forward. “I swear you and Alison are acting like you’ve never met.”

He forced himself to hold out a hand, his insides clenching when she placed her long slender fingers in his and squeezed. “It’s good to see you again, Alison.”

“Brady.” Her dark expressive eyes flickered with emotions.

“How long are you in town for?” Emerson asked, seemingly unaware of the tension between them.

“About a month.” Brady adjusted his hat, aware that Alison followed the movement. Aware she also saw the long jagged scar on his hand. There were others she couldn’t see. Some he would never reveal to anyone. “Maybe longer.”

Alison’s jaw went slack.

“He came home for the wedding.” Vivica tucked her hand through his arm. “I asked him to run interference between me and Mom with the wedding plans. If it was up to her, I’d have three thousand guests, a full string orchestra, and the ceremony would be televised.”

Alison smiled slightly, obviously trying to recover from the shock of learning Brady planned to stay in town all month. “She reminds me a little of Dad.”

Vivica and Emerson laughed, and Brady gritted his teeth again. Was the man always so damn friendly? It was downright irritating.

“Brady, guess what?” Vivica tugged on his arm. “Alison owns the bridal shop in town, Weddings to Remember. She’s coordinating the wedding for me.”

Brady’s mouth fell open this time, but he quickly snapped it shut.

“Since you offered to pay for the wedding, you’ll need to work with her about finalizing all the details.”

Brady shot Vivica a murderous look. His sneaky, conniving sister had set him up.

A beeper chirped and Emerson checked his, then threw an arm around Alison. “I hate to leave the celebration, but duty calls.” He grinned. “Babies like to pick their own schedule. Of course, it’s usually during the middle of the night.”

He pecked Alison on the cheek, making Brady’s blood boil with all his friendliness and attentiveness, then said goodbye and sauntered away.

“I have to run, too,” Vivica said. “Got to go see if I can find that fiancé of mine so I can introduce the two of you, Brady.”

She flitted away, leaving Alison and him alone.

Alison turned grave eyes to him and he fisted his hands by his sides. He wanted desperately to apologize for the way he’d treated her, to explain about the training exercises that had taken him away for months, the accident that had scarred him for life, his uncertain future, but that would mean explaining about his friend’s death and his part in it.

And he could never tell her or his family about that.

Of course, she’d gotten over him anyway, or she wouldn’t be seeing another man and considering marriage to him.

ALISON BIT DOWN ON her lower lip, furious with Vivica for deserting her. Although Vivica didn’t know the entire story about the wedding and annulment, she did know Alison had written Brady daily. And that he’d broken her heart.

Why would she do this to her?

One of the ladies from church nudged her in passing, and Alison forced her thoughts back to Brady. He was standing ramrod straight, military style, his expression as hard and ungiving as the dry ground beneath her feet. So different from the friendly, easygoing way Thomas looked at her. And the hungry way Brady used to look at her.

The sooner she told him about their little problem the better.

“I…we need to go somewhere and talk.”

His dark brow raised slightly. “Now?”

She could have sworn his voice quivered. “If you have time. It’s…” She twisted her hands in her skirt. “It’s important.”

“Is there a problem already concerning Vivica’s wedding?”

“No.”

He studied her, his lips pressed into an unbending line. “Can’t you say what you have to say here on the street?”

Alison glanced around at the crowd. Oh, no, she didn’t think that would be a good idea. But she might as well ask for the annulment, because Brady certainly didn’t look as if he’d come to rekindle their relationship. “Let’s go to my shop. It’s closed today, so we can speak in private.”

Chapter Three

Brady winced, feeling awkward and absurdly large, as he stepped inside Alison’s frilly bridal shop. The lacy white fabrics and pictures of bridal gowns, invitations and other paraphernalia reminded him of his own wedding to Alison—and the simplicity of their ceremony.

But the vows had still been very real to him.

His hand once again pressed over the inside pocket to make certain her letters were still there, although he knew they were safely tucked within. He checked a hundred times a day. It had become a habit.

She turned to study him, her gaze resting on his injured leg. “Vivica didn’t tell me you’d been hurt.”

He shrugged. “I’m OK. I wanted to be here for Vivi’s wedding.”

Alison’s dark eyes searched his face. For a brief second, he allowed himself to imagine her touching him.

“So you’re a bridal consultant now?”

Alison smiled and glanced around the shop. “Yeah, go figure.”

“I always thought you’d wind up teaching swimming or maybe being a counselor.”

So he remembered she’d been on the swim team and that she played referee between Mimi and Hannah. “Yeah, well, things change, don’t they?”

He nodded. “Time does that to people.”

She looked away, stared at a gold chest in the corner that resembled a treasure chest, then bit down on her lip again.

“Why did you want to talk to me in private?” he asked.

Her eyes hardened for a moment, as if he should know the reason. And he did; he just couldn’t bring himself to apologize or explain why he had stopped writing.

“There’s something I have to show you.”

He watched hungrily as she glided across the room, the blue dress brushing her bare legs as she knelt and opened the chest. She drew out an envelope and stood, then gestured toward a seating area with a low-slung white sofa and a dark green wing chair. “I think you’d better sit down.”

What the hell did she have in the envelope? “I’m fine standing.” Besides, he’d need help getting up off that sofa, and he certainly didn’t want her helping him or feeling sorry for him.

“Really, Brady. I think this might come as a shock.”

He studied her for a long moment, then finally conceded and took the chair, knowing he’d be able to get out of it easier. It took him a minute to stretch out his leg, another to look up at her without revealing the pain the movement cost him.

She was watching him when he did, a lost, soulful look that reminded him of that night at the lake. The night she’d cried because he was saying goodbye.

“I think you’d better take a look at this.”

She handed him the envelope, and he breathed in the scent of lilacs, the same fragrance she’d worn four years ago. God, this was torture.

“I want you to know I received those papers only yesterday.”

He frowned and opened the envelope, his hand shaking when he pulled out the marriage certificate. Then he removed the next set of papers and studied the text, his hands tightening around the pages.

“It’s the annulment papers,” Alison said in a low voice. “My grandmother sent them to me in the mail with my hope chest.”

So that’s what the gold chest was. Didn’t women have hope chests when they were planning on getting married? The realization hit him full force. Alison was planning to marry Emerson. “I see.” His gaze rose to meet hers, his throat thick. “But there are some missing signatures, and the papers haven’t been processed. What’s going on?”

“Apparently Dad asked Grammy Rose to file them and she forgot.”

It took a nanosecond for him to realize the implications. When he did, he jerked his gaze to her. “Then…we’re…”

“That’s right, Brady. Technically, we’re still married.”

AND WE HAVE BEEN for the last four years.

Alison let the unspoken words stretch between them. Shock settled on Brady’s face, then his eyes mellowed. With memories of the night he’d proposed, the night their young love had propelled them into each other’s arms, into consummating their love by the lake, then into marriage.

Brady suddenly stood. The papers fluttered to the floor as he slowly reached out and touched her hair. His familiar scent filled her nostrils, his hungry gaze trapped her with its heat, and she moved toward him, cupped his face with her hands and melted into his arms.

He lowered his head, his breath ragged as he captured her lips and settled his mouth on top of hers, then delved inside with his tongue to taste her passion. The years fell away, the pain, the lonely nights and days, until Alison found herself clinging to his arms.

But she’d promised herself she would never cling or beg or force him to come back to her if he didn’t want her. And she hadn’t intended for the papers to do that.

She pulled away, slowly at first, then realized she had to distance herself or she might shatter and forget those promises she’d made to herself. As easily as he’d forgotten the ones he’d made to her.

“Alison… I—”

“No, don’t.” She turned and wrapped her arms around her waist, a nervous laugh bubbling inside when she saw the wedding picture of her and Brady. She’d been in her prom dress, so young, so in love, so naive….

“Alison, I’m sorry.”

The gruffly spoken words made tears burn her eyes.

“I wish I could explain what happened, but I…I’m afraid I can’t.”

“We’ve both grown up,” Alison said, squaring her shoulders.

“And changed.”

The nervous laughter escaped. “Right, we were only kids back then. Foolish and impulsive and full of dreams.”

“And stars.” He cleared his throat. “But life changes and goes on.”

She turned to face him and saw the strains of fatigue and worry etched on his face. He had aged, she realized, and a hardness, an emptiness had settled into his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

What had happened to put it there?

She wanted desperately to know, yet self-preservation kicked in and she decided she couldn’t ask. Not with that wall of broken trust between them.

“I…I really didn’t know about the papers until yesterday. I’ll file them as soon as possible, if that’s what you want.”

His expression grew even harder, even colder, if that were possible, the tension between them palpable. “I think that would be best.” Then he turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

Alison watched him limp down the street, and wondered at his choice of words. He hadn’t said it was what he wanted, he’d said he thought it would be best. Her fingers brushed across her lips, and the memory of the passion in his kiss rose to taunt her. Could it be possible? Could Brady still have feelings for her? Or was she overanalyzing what he’d said, trying to hold on to some sliver of hope for their future?

BRADY WAS TOO SHAKEN to deal with the crowd in Sugar Hill, much less his doting, but slightly over-bearing mother. He did find Vivica and meet her fiancé, Joe, an architect, who seemed like a decent enough guy and appeared to adore Vivica. But Brady couldn’t focus; he was trying to absorb the news that he and Alison were officially still married.

“The fireworks display is supposed to be even bigger this year,” Vivica said.

“I’ve never been to a small-town one,” Joe admitted. “We usually go into Atlanta.”

“Hey, Vivi,” Brady said, “would you and Joe give Mom a ride home, and let me take the car?”

“Aren’t you going to stay for the fireworks?” Vivica asked.

Brady jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’m tired. If you don’t mind, I’d like to head home. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course.” Vivica dug in her purse for her keys and handed them to him. “I keep forgetting it hasn’t been long since the accident. You need to rest.”

He grimaced and shook Joe’s hand. “See you later.”