His One And Only Bride

She was being prickly, and she knew it. He’d made her sound like a saint and she was far from one. If she’d been a better person, she wouldn’t have been filing for a divorce after making one last-ditch effort to fix her marriage. Wouldn’t have screamed, I never want to see you again, the final time her husband walked out the door because her heart was breaking and she’d had enough.

Yes, she’d picked up the pieces after Mitch’s death. Grieved the man, as well as the marriage that had been collateral damage when his career had carried him to every corner of the world. If there was the hint of a government coup, political upheaval or celebrity scandal, Mitch was there with his camera. But the idea of a new man, Tim or anyone else for that matter, took some getting used to. One day, she would be totally one hundred percent over Mitch. Today was now or never.

Stopping by the glass-etched main entrance, she faced Tim when he caught up to her. “Please go inside,” she told him. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

For the first time he looked unsure of himself. “Was it something I said?”

“I need to gather my thoughts.” She tilted her head toward the building. “I’ll be in soon.”

“If you say so.”

A blast of air conditioning drifted over Zoe as Tim went inside. Heaving a breath, she lowered herself onto a rocking chair a few feet away and smoothed the cotton skirt of her dress with shaky fingers.

Mitch still had the power to reduce her to uncertainty. It hadn’t always been that way. When they’d met in high school, then married young, he’d always made her laugh. Given her hope.

But once he’d become Mr. Hotshot Photojournalist, things had begun to change. Subtly at first. He was a thrill seeker from the get-go; she shouldn’t have been surprised when he thrived at his job. She, on the other hand, had always been leery about walking into the unknown. She had been wounded as an innocent bystander in a bank robbery, and the helplessness she’d felt then had never left her. It had, in fact, spurred on her commitment to the town and the people of Cypress Pointe. Mitch, meanwhile, had craved the action and on the way to success, her concerns hadn’t seemed to matter to him.

Can’t blame him. You had your part in the breakup.

It was true, but she’d hoped Mitch would put their failing marriage first. When he didn’t, she’d become even more civic-minded, throwing her energy into projects bettering the lives of her friends and neighbors. But what if she’d tried harder? Maybe battled her fears? Gone with him a time or two to show her support? If she’d known then what she knew now, she might have made a different choice.

A couple headed in her direction, dressed up for the wedding-reception revelry inside.

“Good afternoon, Mayor.”

She waved. It still felt odd answering to that title. She’d always been Zoe. Just plain Zoe. Mitch Simmons’s wife. Leo’s mother. Samantha’s daughter. Now she had a responsibility to the good people of Cypress Pointe. She wasn’t completely sure how that had happened. One day she was busy with her latest community project, a food bank, when her best friend suggested she’d make an awesome mayor. Next thing she knew, she was running an election and won.

Now she ran a town, dealt with a town council, worked closely with the police and fire chiefs, along with other officials, and found herself thriving. Her ideas were accepted and embraced, and best of all, successful. Her passionate goal of keeping Cypress Pointe safe for current and future generations was falling into place.

“Are you going inside?” the man asked as he held open the door.

Not wanting to appear rude, she stood and joined the couple as they ventured inside. Following them into the cool, spacious lobby, her heels echoed on the marble floor leading to the assigned banquet room. As she entered, voices carried over the soft music flowing from hidden speakers. Waiters moved about the room with trays of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne. The yummy aroma of a loaded baked potato made her stomach growl. She took a small plate and helped herself to the potato and a BLT on a cracker. She’d forgotten to eat lunch in her rush to get ready and had to stop herself from swallowing the comfort food too quickly. Taking a bite of the potato, she closed her eyes and savored the gooey melted cheese spiced with bits of bacon.

“Whoever came up with these hors d’oeuvres is a genius,” a familiar voice said beside her.

Zoe’s eyes flew open. “Bethany. I missed you at the rehearsal party last night.”

“My flight got delayed. I came in too late.”

“I knew you wouldn’t miss the wedding.”

“After hearing all your stories about Lilli making Max crazy by dragging out the wedding plans, I had to see the ceremony with my own eyes.”

Depositing her plate on the tray of a passing waiter, Zoe threw her arms around her best friend and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Bethany squeezed back. “Me, too.”

Zoe pulled away to scrutinize her friend. Bethany’s shoulder-length brunette hair gleamed under the subtle banquet room lighting and her mocha eyes sparkled. “I see the road agrees with you.”

“What can I say? I love my job. Even if it does keep me away from Cypress Pointe.”

Zoe hugged her again. “Which is more often than I like. But now you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

“Just for the weekend. I fly out Sunday.”

Tomorrow? Pushing away the pinch of dejection, Zoe smiled. “Great. We can catch up. Leo would love to see his godmother.”

“And I’m dying to see him. Half of my suitcase is filled with toys and adorable little outfits I couldn’t resist buying.”

Bethany might be busy, but she always had time to dote on Leo.

“Stop by in the morning.”

“I will.” She sized up Zoe. “You okay with all this lovey-dovey, happy couple stuff?”

Zoe laughed. Bethany was not a believer in happily-ever-after.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure? I thought I saw you tear up during the ceremony.”

Good grief. “Did everyone notice?”

“I suppose only people paying attention. I’d say the majority were focused on the bride and groom.”

Which, hopefully, meant only Bethany and Tim saw the moment of weakness.

“No matter. I’m good. Better than good.” She scanned the room. “I even have a date roaming around here somewhere.”

“So you’ve stuck to your moving-on plan?”

“Absolutely.”

“I guess Tim is a good choice...” Bethany’s voice trailed off.

“But?”

“He’s a firefighter. Why do you pick guys who run to danger?”

Why, indeed?

“Forget I said anything. If you like him, that’s good enough for me.”

“I do,” Zoe insisted. “He’s a nice guy.”

“But he doesn’t get your pulse racing?”

“Been there. Had the broken marriage to prove it. Next time, I’m going for solid and steady.”

Bethany snorted. “Good luck with that.”

Yeah, Zoe had a thing for thrill-seekers. Could it be because she lived vicariously through them? How’s that working out for you?

Not well.

Bethany frowned. “My folks are sending me the stink eye. Gotta run.”

It took everything in Zoe not to turn toward Mr. and Mrs. Donahue. Since the ill-fated robbery when Zoe and Bethany were young teens, they hadn’t wanted much to do with her. Unconsciously, she rubbed her arm, her fingers brushing over the raised scar.

Growing up, she’d based the idea of what a family should look like by the Donahues’ example. Bethany’s parents had normal jobs, normal hours and normal relationships, while Zoe had cooked her own meals and basically ran her mother’s life. Even today, she missed the security of their home, the comfort of their friendship, a life she’d been a part of for too short a period of time.

A waiter passed by again. The zesty scent of mac and cheese, served in little porcelain ramekin bowls, drew her from her thoughts. She wandered around the room, admiring the wildflower theme carried over from the wedding. Each table resembled a picnic table with yellow gingham cloths covered with burlap and lace runners. The centerpiece consisted of a small galvanized bucket with overflowing greens and wildflowers, surrounded by candles flickering in mason jars. Fat water goblets and white plates with yellow napkins circled by a wooden holder adorned each place setting. Simple and inviting. Very Lilli.

A riser had been assembled at the far end of the room for Luke Hastings’s band to set up their instruments to play after dinner. The opposite wall boasted a large window overlooking the hotel pool. From there, the hotel lawn swept down to the beach. There was a wooden outdoor deck on the far side of the building with an amazing view of the sand and water beyond. Truth be told, the private deck was her favorite place at the hotel. With today’s temperate weather, Zoe imagined the party would eventually spill outside.

“There you are.” Tim came up beside her, handing her a glass. She took a sip of the sparkling wine, suddenly at a loss for conversation.

Guilt itched over her. She shouldn’t be thinking about the past when she was on a date. “Sorry about before.”

“No need to explain.”

There was, but she kept quiet.

“Pretty room,” Tim said.

“Yes. Nealy did a stellar job as usual. Between her event planning company and her boyfriend owning this hotel, they’re a real power couple.”

Silence fell between them and she took another sip.

“When do you think the wedding party will get here?”

“Soon, I would imagine.”

Tim shook his head, gazing around the room.

Yeah, this had turned awkward.

“The only thing that would top this day is if I get called out to a fire. A real date-killer.”

Zoe laughed. She knew Tim wasn’t on duty, but appreciated his attempt at levity. If he could try, she would, too.

“Or I could get called into an impromptu late Saturday afternoon town council meeting, because we all know council people have nothing better to do than call weekend meetings.”

He chuckled and sent her a warm smile.

Should she take his hand in hers to reassure him they were fine, or was that rushing things? It had been so long since she’d dated; she was definitely rusty. Just take the plunge. She could do this.

“Ah, the life we live as public servants,” he said.

Actually, a public life hadn’t turned out all that bad. She gave to the town and her work brought a sense of satisfaction. She was keeping Cypress Pointe a good place to live, work and raise a family, ensuring that nothing threatened this quiet community she treasured. She didn’t imagine her motivation would ever be swayed.

As she looked around for a place to set down her glass, deciding to take his hand and finally show Tim she wanted their relationship to move to the next level, the volume level in the room rose. Guests shifted to the open doorway.

“Must be the happy couple now,” Tim commented.

Her timing stunk. To cover her disappointment, she said, “Now we can get this party started. Have I told you I like to dance?”

“I believe you have.”

Thankful to get this date back on an even keel, Zoe joined in the clapping as the bride and groom made their grand entrance. Toasts were offered. The meal was just about to be served when she noticed a new face appear in the crowd. Wyatt Hamilton, Mitch’s best friend, searched the crowd until his gaze landed on her. With a determined air about him, he worked his way across the room. What on earth could he want? She’d noticed him at the church earlier, but he’d left through the backdoor before the ceremony started, talking on his cell phone. Then Zoe had gotten busy and hadn’t given his exit a second thought. At the time, she figured he was talking to his girlfriend, Jenna, the caterer for this reception. From his serious expression and focused stride, a note of worry scurried over her.

“Zoe, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you.”

She reached for her phone and came up empty-handed, which was highly unusual since she always kept her phone nearby when Leo was with a sitter. “I must have left my bag in the truck.”

He nodded at her explanation. “I need to borrow you.”

Tim stepped closer. “Right now?”

Wyatt sent him a dark look. “It’s important.”

Zoe grabbed Wyatt’s sleeve. “Is it Leo? Is something wrong?”

His expression gentled. “No. Not at all. I’m sure Leo is fine.”

Zoe let out a breath, then met Wyatt’s gaze. “What’s up?”

“Come with me.”

Beyond curious, Zoe turned to Tim. “I’ll be back as soon as this mystery is solved.”

Frustration crossed Tim’s face. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Thanks, Tim.” Zoe glanced at Wyatt again. Something was off and she wanted to find out what was bothering him.

Wyatt cocked his head toward the door leading to the backyard outdoor area. Zoe passed by him and then he fell into step beside her as they approached the pool, the chlorine heavy and pungent. A few folks lingered at the open-air cafe, but most guests were inside enjoying the party.

“Care to give me a heads-up?” she said once they were out of hearing distance from the crowd.

“You’ll understand in a moment.”

Tendrils of unease trickled down her spine. “You’re making me nervous.”

His quick smile put her marginally at ease. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Really? Does Jenna know what you’re up to?”

“Yes. And she’s with me on this.”

“Okay. Lead on.”

They continued walking. Once they reached the arch exiting to the cement pathway that led to the far deck, he stopped. “Go on out there.”

“What?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You got me this far and now I’m on my own?”

“It’s not my place.”

She stood her ground.

“It’s important.”

Disconcerted by this clandestine mission, she reluctantly made her way along the path. Tall sea oats swayed in the gentle breeze. A seagull squawked before diving for its prey. Out here, briny seawater tinted the air. As she grew closer, she noticed a tall figure standing on the far side of the deck, his back to her as he looked over the natural vista spreading out before him. She hesitated as fear gripped her. Surely, Wyatt wouldn’t have brought her here if it weren’t safe.

The solitary man remained still. Zoe’s heart began to pound. She didn’t have it in her to stop, as if an invisible force shoved her closer to her destination.

The man turned around.

She slowed her steps, wary now.

When he removed his aviator-shaped sunglasses, she gasped, her knees nearly buckling beneath her.

“Hello, Zoe,” the stranger standing before her said.

She blinked. It couldn’t be, could it? How could it be?

“Mitch?” she whispered past the obstruction in her taut throat.

“Yes. It’s me.”

The husband she’d thought was dead stood before her, very much alive.

Chapter Two

MITCH HAD EXPECTED his wife’s surprise. After all, to her, he’d risen from the dead.

His hand gripped the cane that had become his lifeline. He wanted to heave it over the railing, but that meant lifting an arm that still needed rehab to function properly. Instead of cataloguing his injuries, he focused on his shell-shocked wife.

“I don’t understand. We were told... I thought you were...”

“Dead?”

She reached out to place her palms on the deck railing.

“The report was mistaken.”

“But... How... Why?”

“I was injured in a truck accident while leaving a refugee camp.”

She visibly pulled herself together. Took a step toward him, faltered and stopped. “Pretty soon I’m going to have a ton of questions, but right now...I don’t know what to say.”

“How about ‘welcome home’?”

He watched her struggle with this major surprise. “When did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago.”

“How?” Her gaze took in his appearance and he knew what she saw. A guy who’d lost weight, whose complexion had turned pasty after weeks in the hospital. Not the image of the healthy husband who’d walked out of her life nearly two years ago.

“Wyatt. I called him to tell him I was heading home. He picked me up at the airport.”

A flush of red crept up her neck. “You didn’t think to call your wife?”

“I did, but considering how we ended our last conversation, I thought it would be better if I talked to you in person.”

She ran a hand through her shoulder-length black hair. What had happened to the long straight strands that had reached to her midback? In the hospital, he’d dreamed of running his fingers through it. Had dreamed of her easy smile, which was nowhere to be found right now. Had he expected her to jump into his arms when she saw him again despite the circumstances? Expect that old feelings would rush over her again? Disappointment swamped him. She looked like the same Zoe, yet there was something different about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t want to call me? Despite everything, didn’t you think I’d have wanted to know you were at least okay?”

He shifted as the weight on his weak leg grew uncomfortable. “I should have called, but after the accident and long recovery, I just wanted to get back to Cypress Pointe.”

She opened her mouth, then slammed it shut. His excuse probably echoed false, like so many of the ones he’d tossed her way in the past.

“Zoe, I realize this is a shock.”

“Really? A shock?” Her voice cracked. “We thought you were dead!”

“I get it—”

“Do you? We went for weeks not knowing where you were. I tried every number I could think of. Your assistant, Maria, got ahold of a few contacts who pointed us in the direction of Jordan. And then the only information she could find was that you were somewhere along the Syrian border. I hoped...prayed...”

He took a halting step forward to stand closer to his wife. Her familiar scent of vanilla mixed with a hint of floral enveloped him. All he wanted was to cup her sweet face and stare into her blue eyes. Instead, he met her gaze, which had finally moved from shock to anger.

The headache knocking at the back of his skull leaped to a full-blown hammer. He closed his eyes. Took measured breaths.

A soft touch landed on his tender arm and the muscles seized.

“Mitch. Are you okay?”

He slowly opened his eyes. “Pain. In my head.”

“Do you want to go inside? Get out of the sun?”

The old Mitch rebelled at her suggestion. He’d been cooped up for too long. Yeah, the bright light wasn’t helping the throbbing in his head, but he needed to feel the warmth on his skin, savor the earthy scent of sea and sand, listen to the waves rush upon the shore and ebb back into the blue water he’d dreamed of while gone.

“In a few minutes.”

The current Mitch tried to be more levelheaded, to take the advice of the doctors to not overdo. He hadn’t exactly been a model patient.

“At least sit down.”

He shook his head and immediately regretted it. “It feels good to stand.”

“Okay. Can I get you water?”

“Not right now. I just want to enjoy being here.”

A shadow crossed her face. He hadn’t known what to expect in terms of a homecoming. Confusion? No doubt. Awkwardness? Sure. Anger? Most definitely. Now that the conversation had stalled, he wasn’t sure which direction to steer it.

Zoe ran a shaky hand over her forehead. “So much has happened. Changed, since you’ve been gone.”

“I imagine. I know it’ll take a while to catch up.”

“Why did it take so long for you to contact...Wyatt?”

“I lost my memory after the crash. Only recently was I able to fit the pieces of my life together.”

The color washed out of her cheeks. “It was that bad?”

“Apparently. I remember driving down a dirt road, then waking up in the hospital. They told me I was unconscious for a week.”

“Why didn’t the hospital contact your family?”

“It was in a pretty remote area. I didn’t have my press credentials with me and my ID got lost in the confusion.”

Her brow wrinkled. “We got word that you were dead a year ago. What happened?”

“I kind of went rogue. After I left last time, with all that went down between us, I started traveling, working on my own and didn’t bother to report in to Maria. I don’t know how the rumor of my death started, other than I was near an explosion site early on, so I guess since I hadn’t spoken with anyone, they assumed the worst. The accident happened later.”

“But before, I tried to find you. I called different publications you’d worked with to see if you were on assignment and no one could get ahold of you.”

“I was off the grid.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s a long story. And since we’d decided to separate, I didn’t think it mattered.”

“This is overwhelming.” Zoe’s gaze swept over him again. Taking inventory of his shortcomings? He pushed himself to stand taller, even with the pain screaming in his leg. “I need to sit down.” She moved to a nearby wrough iron patio chair and dropped into the seat.

He followed, making sure she wasn’t looking before taking a bracing breath and lowering himself into a chair beside her. There was no way he’d admit how bad his injuries were. At least not until he got a handle on how things stood between them after his sudden reappearance. To his dismay, tears were rolling down Zoe’s cheeks. She brushed them away and said, after a bitter laugh, “When I got up this morning, I never expected to find out my husband is alive and back in Cypress Pointe.”

“I’m sorry, Zoe.”

She glanced at her clasped hands, then back at him. “You should have called me, Mitch. I would have come to get you. You are my husband.”

“Am I? Or was I?”

Her gaze slid away.

To be honest, he hadn’t been sure she’d come to his rescue. Sure, he’d never stopped believing, hoping, that her love for him would be bigger than their problems. Enough to push her out of her comfort zone and into his arms. But as his career took off, her connection to the people of Cypress Pointe had grown. Her loyalty to a town had been one of the sticking points in their relationship, so he’d decided to take the easy way out and call his friend instead of his wife.

“I wasn’t too sure about the husband part.”

She’d threatened to file for a divorce before he left. Had she followed through? He hadn’t signed any papers, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t had them drawn up. Is that why she’d tried to find him? To end the marriage for good?

“Yes,” she said in a quiet voice. “We’re still married.”

Question answered.

“I had the papers, but when we thought you were dead, I put them aside.”

The abbreviated relief evaporated. She’d made good on her promise. He hadn’t thought she’d carry through, but he had been wrong. About a lot of things.

He stretched out his leg to relieve the cramp twisting his calf.

“Everyone will be happy to see you.”

“Are you?”

“How can you ask me that?” Indignation laced her tone. “Of course, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Glad he was okay” and “happy to see him” were two different answers. They’d had their share of epic arguments in the past but at her core, Zoe wasn’t mean-spirited enough to wish he’d stayed dead and gone.

She glanced at his cane. “So you’ll need more recovery time?”

He’d been told as much. Physical therapy. Probably someone to talk to about his memory loss. Figure out if there was any way to get back the life he’d lived before the accident.

Traveling for two days had sapped his energy. Layovers. Uncomfortable seats on long flights. Not to mention the unsettling sensation of being watched when he’d flown out of Queen Alia International Airport in Jordan. Did he need to add paranoia to his list of injuries?

A cough sounded from the steps. Zoe jumped and looked over her shoulder.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, guilt washing over her features.