Convenient Marriage, Surprise Twins. Amy Ruttan
felt bad for throwing up a wall, but it was her best form of defense. And now the toast was like gravel in her mouth; she could barely choke it down.
“So when do you want to move in?” she asked, changing the subject.
“How about after we’re married? I think your dad is a traditional sort of guy.”
“That’s true. He is.” She sighed. “I’m exhausted. I really should get home and get some rest.”
Andrew nodded. “I’ll take you home.”
“Just back to the hospital is fine. I have to get my car.”
“Right.”
They both threw down some money for breakfast and then walked out to his car. Lana was nervous, as if she were on a date—one that ended badly.
Only she wasn’t on a date. This wasn’t real. They had just been formulating an intricate ruse.
And she had to keep telling herself that.
LANA MANAGED TO avoid Andrew for the rest of the week. Even though the wedding was creeping up fast, she was actively avoiding him. He’d made her feel things at the Kahuna Café that she wasn’t comfortable with. Things that she’d hidden for so long because it was expected of her. Her father had certain expectations, but there was a part of her deep down that was like her mother.
And it was that side she hid because it was too painful for her father.
When her mother had left, shortly after Jack was born, she’d assumed the mantle of mother.
And since she wanted Jack and her father happy, she’d buried the feelings of grief, anger and loss well. Only one other person had got through her icy shell and that had been David.
David had made her feel things she’d never thought possible and look how well that had turned out.
Then there was the constant butting of heads between her brother and father. So Lana had learned to adapt to smooth things over between the two of them. She was the mediator and the peacekeeper. So, to make sure everyone was happy she’d do almost anything.
Even wear a wedding dress that slightly horrified her.
“It’s so dreamy,” Sophie, her stepmother, gushed, running her manicured hand over the fabric as if it were one of the fluffy poodles she showed. “Isn’t it, Lana?”
You expect me to wear that?
Only she didn’t say that.
Keep the peace. Keep the peace.
“Sure.”
There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the dress. It was just...she wasn’t used to dresses. They weren’t something she was used to wearing. Especially one that was lace-covered, form-fitting, backless, ivory-colored and scattered with pearls.
That wasn’t her idea of nice clothing.
She’d missed her prom because her father had been at a medical conference and someone had to watch Jack. Maybe she was the only girl who didn’t dream of being Cinderella.
Give her scrubs, slacks or a wetsuit any day.
Oh, come on. You dreamt of wedding dresses when you were with David.
And she hated herself for letting that thought in.
Sophie frowned. “You hate it, don’t you?”
“No, no,” Lana apologized quickly. “It’s just overwhelming. I hadn’t planned on...”
Getting married after David had crushed her heart. Having a wedding. Getting married to Andrew ever.
“I hadn’t planned on a wedding.” Which wasn’t a lie. “We just wanted to go down to City Hall. Do it quietly.”
Sophie smiled. “Which is why I’m planning it. I am the best wedding planner on the island.”
“I know.” Lana smiled. Sophie wasn’t her mother, but she was the closest she’d had to one for the last fifteen years. Sophie had stepped in when Lana had gone to school in California. And she sometimes couldn’t help but wonder if her father had remarried just so there was someone to take care of Jack when she was away. But then that made her wonder: had he only let her go because she was following in his footsteps?
Don’t think like that. Dad loves Sophie and so do you. It killed Lana to be lying to her on so many levels. “I do love it. Truly.”
“I knew it.” Sophie clapped her hands and put the dress back in its garment bag before swinging around with another garment bag. “I have your gala dress ready too.”
Lana groaned inwardly. Right. The gala fund-raiser was the night before her wedding. Two fancy dresses in the span of twenty-four hours. This would be brutal.
Lana braced herself, but as Sophie pulled out a royal blue, long ball gown, also backless and covered in lace, she relaxed because it was completely stunning. This dress she really did love. Royal blue was one of her favorite colors.
“I can see by the way your eyes lit up you like this one more,” Sophie teased.
“I do.” Lana touched the dress. “Can’t I get married in this?”
“No, no. It’s ivory for a sunset wedding on the beach. It’s traditional and your father wants traditional.” Sophie took the gala dress and zipped it back up in its garment bag before handing it over to Lana. “I’ll keep the wedding gown at the house, but since the gala is tomorrow night I’ll leave this dress with you.”
“Thanks, Sophie.” And she truly did mean it. She would be lost without her stepmother. This whole thing was so out of her league.
Sophie kissed her cheek. “Any time.”
Lana walked her out and then once the door was shut she sank down in her office chair, trying not to let this farce of a marriage overwhelm her.
Too late.
There was a knock and, before she could say Don’t come in, Andrew came barging in. She startled at seeing him. In the past week she’d seen him in the halls when he wasn’t training Jack, but she’d kept her nose down in whatever she was doing to ignore him and avoid him. In her office there was no escaping him. She was trapped. He took one look at her and he frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he shut the door.
“Nothing.”
“You looked like you were about explode.” He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he assessed her.
Because I am.
“I’m fine. Just busy. What can I do for you?”
“I have a patient I need a consult on.”
She was taken aback. Andrew always went to her father when it came to consults. Never her. Which was a slap in the face. Her father might be Chief of Surgery but she was Head of Ortho. Her father was so busy with administration he didn’t clock as many hours in the operating room any more. She was clocking more hours, but other surgeons rarely sought her opinion. “Is my father unavailable?”
“No, but I’d like your opinion.”
“Why?” she asked cautiously.
“Why not?” He gave her a questioning look. “Why are you so uncomfortable about this?”
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
His eyes narrowed. “You totally are.”
“You’ve never wanted my opinion on your patients before... You always went to my father.”
“I never