Do-Or-Die Bridesmaid. Julie Miller
was when the note that had been tucked inside fell out and drifted to the tile floor. Conor’s shoulders lifted with a wary sigh before he stooped down to retrieve it.
He unfolded the handwritten note—with messages from both Joe and Lisa.
Con—If I was marrying anyone else but Lisa, you’d be standing by my side as best man. I let this go because I know you’ve been dealing with your mom this year. But it’s killing me that you aren’t a part of our lives anymore. Hell, Lisa talks about how much she misses the three of us hanging out the way we did in college so much that I’m getting a complex. I finally told her to send you an invitation. Bail me out, bro. Lisa needs to see you’re okay with her own eyes. Come to the wedding. Do it for yourself, too, and show everyone here that you’re okay.
—Joe.
He flipped over the paper to Lisa’s flowery handwriting. What was this? An intervention to help him get over how sucky they thought his life had become?
Dearest Con—I know things ended badly between us. Deep down in your heart, you know I couldn’t make you happy in the long run, nor you me. But we were friends long before we were something more. We were practically family. Marie and Mom were like sisters. Your mom would want you to be happy, not stewing in anger or grief or whatever it is that is keeping you away from home.
If you don’t care about me or Joe, then think of your mother. We all miss her. Mom most of all. Seeing you here, representing Marie, would make her so happy.
You may think there’s no one in your life who worries about your well-being. But we do.
I hope we can be friends again. I’d love to have a big brother like you in my life. Please come. We miss you.
Yours truly,
Lisa.
Big brother? He hadn’t felt brotherly toward Lisa since she’d sprouted breasts in middle school.
Brotherly was what he felt toward Lisa’s tomboy little sister, Laura. The squirt always seemed to be around when he’d come over to hang out with Lisa, and she’d even tagged along on a couple of dates in college. He’d taught her to swing a softball bat and spit watermelon seeds from the tree house that hovered over both their backyards. Laura had freckles and braces and snorted through her nose when she laughed. Lisa was feminine right down to her painted pinkie toes. Not in any universe could he equate brotherly with his feelings for Lisa.
But his heart hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough.
He wasn’t sure he could handle the friendship she wanted. The pain of her rejection compounded by his mother’s death, the guilt of not seeing how unhappy she’d been with him, wouldn’t allow friendship to flourish again. But maybe he could give Lisa one day.
Show everyone here that you’re okay.
“You played me like a fine violin, Joseph.” Shaking his head, Conor scooped the invitation up and stuffed it into his pocket. His decision was made.
Time for a road trip to Virginia.
The Methodist church was packed with enough guests that Conor could easily slide into the last pew without drawing attention to his arrival.
He’d convinced himself that taking a few vacation days and driving to Arlington for Joe and Lisa’s wedding was a necessary thing. It was a matter of pride to show them that he wasn’t so grief-stricken about his mother’s death or wounded by Lisa that he was too weak or vulnerable to wish them well.
So, here he was, in the flesh, back at the church where services for his mother had been held, the same church the Wildmans and the Karrs had attended growing up. Detective Conor Wildman was doing just fine on his own, thank you very much.
But he wasn’t going to make a spectacle of himself. He might be proving that he was a gracious loser, that he had made the right choice to move on, but those emotional scars were still fresh.
One of the hazards of standing six foot three, though, was that blending in wasn’t always an option. When Joe walked in from the waiting room beside the altar with his best man and a groomsman—one a fraternity brother he recognized from college, the other probably an accountant friend from work—he adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses on his nose and looked again, letting Conor know he’d been spotted. Joe beamed at seeing Conor in the back row near the exit. Conor offered his former college roomie a thumbs-up and a wry grin.
But when Joe took a couple of steps to come down the aisle toward him, Conor shook his head and pointed to the back of the church, reminding Joe of his priorities as the organ music finished with a dramatic flourish. The best man pulled Joe back into place, rubbing Joe’s shoulders and teasing him about putting the kiss-the-bride stuff ahead of the “I dos,” which sent laughter through the pews like a wave.
Conor didn’t laugh. The organist began playing the overture to the traditional processional. But he wasn’t ignoring the joke or appreciating the music so much as he was distracted by the sudden shuffle of commotion in the narthex just outside the sanctuary’s open doors. From his vantage point he could turn and see what the fuss was about while the congregation buzzed with chatter, waiting for the grand entrance of the bridal party.
“Put down your cell phone.” That terse whisper would be Lisa. Something wasn’t going according to her no-doubt meticulous plan for the day. Conor’s chest expanded with a steadying breath at hearing her voice again. He knew all her tones and what they represented. That one was her nervous-that-everything-is-about-to-fall-apart-but-I’ll-cover-my-fear-by-sniping-at-someone-else tone. “If she chooses not to be here to oversee the guest book, then...why isn’t Chloe here?”
“I don’t know. She isn’t answering. And no one’s seen her here at the church, either.” Since Conor didn’t immediately recognize the second woman’s voice, he tilted his head to get a glimpse of pink tulle curving over a generous flare of hips. Tulle and satin gave way to pink lace clinging to some very nice breasts that rose and fell with a huffy sigh. But bangs of short brown hair with caramel highlights and a netted glittery pink feathered headpiece pinned above her ear obscured the woman’s face. “I’d like to know where my friend is, too. Do you think Isaac knows?”
“Don’t go out there and ask him,” Lisa chided. “He’s already at the altar with Joe.” All he could glimpse of her was the hem of her lacy white gown as she paced beyond his line of sight. “I don’t care if she’s leaving me in the lurch. I care about you being the first one down the aisle.”
“Relax, dear. Aunt Sandra handled the guest book just fine.” Conor smiled as a familiar face joined the woman in the pink bridesmaid dress. Lisa’s petite mother and his own mom’s best friend, Leslie Karr. “Please, sweetie. It’s time. We can’t start the ceremony without you.”
Sweetie meant one of Lisa’s sisters. And since her older sister was as tall as Lisa, that meant the frilly pink bombshell was her younger sister, Laura. Um, bombshell? Conor remembered braces and blue jeans and tennis shoes. He never would have ogled Laura the way he’d been assessing her figure a few seconds earlier, and, in fact, would have gone all big brother on any guy who did let his eyes linger on her curves for that long. She was just a kid. Well, the Laura he knew had been like a kid sister to him.
But the attitude was familiar.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Laura protested. “You told me to find Chloe, and now I’m concerned because I can’t.”
A pregnant belly draped with more pink satin and tulle moved into the picture, blocking his view of Laura and her mother. Linda Karr-Colfax moaned and rubbed at the small of her back. A similar clip of feathers dangled from her upswept hair. “Mom? Ty was playing with my