Baby, It's You by Jane Graves

hard time letting it go. And the more ill-advised something was, the more she found herself focusing on it, imagining the possibilities. And the more possibilities she imagined, the more her heart sped up inside her chest until she was in serious danger of fainting dead away.
    She’d never been attracted to big, powerful men, but as she was standing there staring at Marc after he’d gotten her out of that dress, a vision had suddenly filled her mind of a hot interlude in an out-of-the-way inn with a sexy stranger while a storm raged outside—a wild, hot, dangerous affair that made her melt from the inside out. In the entire year she’d dated Greg, not once had she felt that deep-down, all-encompassing, prehistoric, gotta-have-him-now sensation that had swept through her when she stood in front of Marc. But he clearly hadn’t felt a thing. He hadn’t even blinked . In fact, as soon as Gus showed up, he acted as if he couldn’t wait to get out of there.
    Oh, well. Maybe it was for the best. Should she really be lusting after one man only hours after she’d left another one at the altar?
    With a heavy sigh, she stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside. Then she turned and caught her reflection in the dresser mirror. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a scream.
    Her hair looked as if it had gotten caught in a wind tunnel, then been doused with a bucket of water. She had dirt on her face. Mascara was everywhere except on her eyelashes. The Creature from the Black Lagoon with swampy moss hanging off him would have been more appealing than she was right then.
    Well, now she knew at least one reason Marc had run. What man wanted anything to do with a woman who looked like a horror movie monster?
    She went into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower. Then she put on her robe and plopped down in the middle of that gorgeous king-sized bed. She grabbed her phone and looked at her text messages. Three were from Greg, telling her he loved her and was worried about her, and he was asking where she was. Four were from Jill, filled with her usual hyperbole. Have you lost your mind??? And there were several phone messages from both of them, too.
    There wasn’t a single word from her father.
    That made Kari weirdly nervous. She swore she could feel his anger radiating through two hundred miles of atmosphere to light squarely on her shoulders. Thinking about it, though, was it really so surprising he hadn’t contacted her? Once when she was sixteen and stayed out past her curfew, he hadn’t done what the average parent would do and just called her best friend’s house to make her come home. Instead, he’d sent one of his uniformed security guards to pick her up. He understood quite well that teenage humiliation was a stronger deterrent than parental disapproval, and he never hesitated to use it. To this day she was still living off the warning he’d given her when she was only ten years old. There are consequences, Kari. For everything you do—good and bad—there are consequences.
    She couldn’t even imagine what consequences he might be considering right now.
    For a moment Kari closed her eyes and imagined what this day might have been like if her mother were still alive. She remembered little else about her mother except her smiles, which she’d showered on her eight-year-old daughter even through her last days when cancer had taken its toll. If she’d been at the church today, would she have laughed and told Kari not to worry, that it was normal for a bride to have cold feet? Or would she have taken her in her arms in a loving hug and told her not to worry about the wedding, the expense, the guests, or even her fiancé, that her happiness was more important than any of those things?
    Sometimes Kari tried to remember what her parents’ relationship had been like before her mother’s death, but the memories were so frail and wispy that they floated away every time she tried to hold them in her mind. She only