Was that type of happy ever after possible?
She remembered a few months back when she’d bumped into Gwen on the train—they were both coming back to Darling Cove on an early morning express. She’d seemed so stressed about the relationship with Andrew. Obviously, it’d worked out for Gwen. That man looked like he absolutely adored her. Good for her.
Faith cleared her head and dumped all her things in the backseat of the late model Honda, praying it would start. Looking in the rearview mirror to make sure she didn’t run anyone over, she cringed at how she’d let appearance go.
Ugh. Her smudged dark-rimmed glasses were horribly bent and crooked from falling asleep in them. The wild hair under her hat had not seen a stylist in...well years. Her fingers touched the dry tips. Those few inches were all she’d had left when the rest had been hacked off in Iraq.
Shaking those thoughts away, she eased out of the parking spot. Faith took the back road to her parents’ house—she’d been staying there since moving out of her Manhattan apartment five months ago. The longer route kept her away from the awkward stares of Darling Cove residents.
Her business card read Faith Copeland, Executive Producer, CNN. But to everyone in Darling Cove, she’ll always just be Greg Mallory’s runaway bride.
GIVEN THE CHOICE TO enter a room full of Mallorys or a cage of lions, Faith might have preferred to hang with the big cats hoping they weren’t hungry.
With so much time gone by, she hoped any lingering anger or resentment toward her had washed away. This was Gwen’s night. Faith was there to work. No one cared about her.
Except the tasting room with towering ceilings became pin-drop quiet the second she stepped inside. Judging eyes settled on her, sending a shiver of fear up her spine. Faith set a foot back, preparing to run, but Gwen noticed her and gave a joyful wave.
“Faith, over here!” Gwen crossed the room and embraced her with a warm hug. “I’m so glad you could do this for me.”
“Yes, thank you.” Andrew stood behind his wife, his hands resting lovingly on her shoulders.
“It’s my pleasure.” Faith squirmed out of the hold.
After seeing the perfect couple at the train station, she knew she better dress up for the occasion.
Her slinky black wrap dress, curled up hair, and fresh mascara made her feel like a new woman.
“I’ll take a few shots that you can look at. And we’ll go from there,” she said.
“Great.” Gwen’s friendly pat on her shoulder left an aching memory of the friendship they once had. “We’re just waiting for Greg.”
Gwen rolled her eyes and took her husband’s hand as they strolled to an older couple Faith didn’t recognize. The woman had the same dark hair and eyes as Andrew. The man was just as handsome.
Yikes.
On the phone in the corner, Gwen and Greg’s sister, Skye Mallory, chatted away in a lilac chiffon dress. She lifted her eyes and spotted Faith, who responded with a smile tugging the corner of her mouth. Skye pressed her lips together and turned away without returning the politeness.
Sigh.
They’d never been friends. Being the same age, Faith and Gwen had come up through school together and remained close. Until... She’d struggled with the guilt that, somehow, she betrayed Gwen too by not confiding what happened ten years ago. Why Faith really ran out on her wedding. But it hadn’t been fair to burden Gwen with that information and leave her to make an impossible decision whether or not tell Greg something that would have devastated him.
Just running those thoughts through her head left her breathless. Just thinking about explaining herself to Greg made her lightheaded. How were the words going to come out of her mouth with his gorgeous green eyes bearing down on her?
“Hello, Faith.”
She let go of her breath and turned around. “Hey there, Martin.” A crazy instinct to dive into his arms zipped through her, but she stayed put. She’d felt so lucky to be getting Martin Mallory as a father-in-law. Screwed that one up, too.
“How are you?” Greg’s dad asked with a warm smile.
Terrible. “I’m good, Martin,” she said with a nod. Just good. Not great. Not fantastic. But that was her own fault.
Martin opened his mouth to say more, but turned his attention to the double doors opening in a frantic whoosh.
A shadow leapt up on the wall of a tall man, broad and powerful as he charged into the tasting room.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” Greg apologized, still wearing in his police uniform and carrying a garment bag across his shoulder.
Faith stepped behind a column as Greg hurried toward the back rooms, saying, “Dad, relax. It’ll take me two minutes to change.”
Her heart pounded just at the sight of him.
After that awkward staring contest with him and Gwen in the train parking lot last December, she’d been waiting for a knock on her door, a pebble tossed up at her bedroom window. Something.
Nothing.
When she first moved back to Darling Cove, the lingering warm fall kept Greg in his short sleeve uniform shirts. They showed off biceps that had only gotten bigger since she’d left. Muscular legs fit nicely in his dark blue cargo pants. His mirrored sunglasses sat under softly-feathered brown hair that dangled in front of killer green eyes.
In so many ways, Greg wasn’t the same man she’d left ten years ago. His skin looked tougher, more rugged. His gait was that of a mature man, powerful and purposeful. Faith may have told Gwen taking these pictures would be all right, but now, Faith wasn’t so sure. Being in the same room with Greg Mallory caused her throat to go bone dry.
“Where can I get some water?” she asked a man organizing a display of wine glasses.
“There’s bottled water in my office.” He pointed to the hallway where Greg disappeared a few minutes earlier.
Figuring he was in the men’s room, Faith stepped into the manager’s office without knocking. She halted in place, a hot flash of heat charging across her skin. She’d figured wrong.
Her eyes feasted on the wide, smooth, bare back of Greg Mallory. He was perfect. Full of that hard, lean muscle she remembered. His body had always thrilled her, even as a young girl. Greg had fascinated her as soon she figured out what being a woman was all about. What a man could do to a woman’s body.
She gasped when he dropped his cargo pants and revealed that curvy ass. “I, uh...”
Through a mirror on the opposite wall, her eyes connected to his when he stood up. Greg spun around with a face full of the same fear she was sure coursed through her.
He’d filled out. Everywhere. Tight ab muscles trailed down to clingy boxer briefs. Little Greg tucked inside, his shape clearly outlined.
“Uh. I’m sorry,” Faith choked out. “I didn’t think anyone would be in here.”
Greg stood still, his face flushed and shoulders set back. “I’ll be out in a minute.” His deep voice emphasized his smoldering masculinity.
She reached back to close the door. Her sweaty palms couldn’t latch on, though, and her wobbling ankles made her lose her balance. The camera she’d been clutching popped out of her hand. That damn thing cost several hundred dollars, and she propelled herself forward to catch it. It bounced against her fingers like a volleyball until it was secure against her chest.