around, if she kept tempting him, he might. "Except for what I said to you last night..."
"Forget about it," she replied. And this time when she tugged on her wrist, he released her. "I already have."
She reached up. Her nails, the same deep crimson as her dress, scraped his throat as she adjusted his black bow tie. He drew in a deep breath, reacting instinctively to her touch, her closeness. The scent of lilies drifted up from the single perfect flower nestled in her blond curls. Then her fingers skimmed his chin. "Don't worry, Clayton. I'll be gone soon."
Not soon enough for him, for his peace of mind. Abby stepped out of the alcove, into the throng of arriving guests. Her laugh rang out as she greeted people she hadn't seen in years. She appeared unconcerned, but Clayton knew she was merely acting.
He moved back toward the bride's dressing room, and when he raised his hand to knock, he found he was shaking. Yeah. Abby couldn't leave soon enough for him. "Molly?"
"Yes?"
"Are you ready?" he called out.
"Yes. I'm ready," she answered.
"I'll ask Brenna to tell them to start the music." She was in charge, after all, having far more to do with the arrangements than the bride had had.
Now, Brenna lined up the wedding party. She look her place beside the best man, Dr. Nick Jameson. Colleen and Rory would walk together afler Abby and before the flower girl and twin ring bearers, leaving Clayton to walk down with Abby before going back to retrieve the bride.
When Abby's fingers closed around his arm, his muscles tensed. He didn't know exactly what it was about her touch, but he could still feel the pressure of her hand against his thigh from the day before. What would it have felt like directly against his skin?
He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. Brenna turned back toward him and said, "You're sure Molly's all right? She wouldn't let us back in to check on her."
He nodded. "She told me she was ready."
"Okay, here we go," Brenna said, and then she and the best man headed down the aisle.
A few beats later, Clayton and Abby followed. Actually, she led. "Who's speeding now?" he murmured, and glanced down at her. Her face pinched and pale, she stared down all those townspeople she'd left behind eight years ago. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling at the moment. She'd left in disgrace at eighteen, and now she'd returned as a single mother. He honestly didn't judge her for that, but he suspected that some people might in their conservative town.
When they reached the altar, she held his arm for an extra moment before releasing him to step behind Brenna. He hesitated, irrationally feeling as if he'd deserted her. If she needed protection, she had her friends. She didn't need him.
He turned, walked past the groom and best man and then slipped around the last pew to return to the vestibule. Just inside the open doors to the church Lara stood between Buzz and T.J. The boys were tussling over a pillow that would have held the wedding rings, had their father trusted them with them. Lara's tiny fingers clutched a basket of crimson rose petals. With her golden hair and pale skin, she looked angelic in her gown of white lace and satin.
He crouched to her level and asked, "Sweetheart, are you okay?"
She shifted her gaze from the basket of petals, her eyes wide with apprehension, as her mother's had been a minute earlier.
"You're going to be great," Clayton assured her, resting his hand on her shoulder for a quick squeeze before she and the tuxedoed twins started down the aisle. The boys rushed ahead while Lara painstakingly dropped her petals, one at a time, upon the white runner. Gentle laughter rippled through the congregation. From the front of the church, Abby beamed an encouraging smile at her daughter.
Clayton's breath caught and held. Abby had never looked more beautiful to him. But he would have to pull his gaze away. He didn't have time for the feelings that were rushing through him. He didn't have
"Forget about it," she replied. And this time when she tugged on her wrist, he released her. "I already have."
She reached up. Her nails, the same deep crimson as her dress, scraped his throat as she adjusted his black bow tie. He drew in a deep breath, reacting instinctively to her touch, her closeness. The scent of lilies drifted up from the single perfect flower nestled in her blond curls. Then her fingers skimmed his chin. "Don't worry, Clayton. I'll be gone soon."
Not soon enough for him, for his peace of mind. Abby stepped out of the alcove, into the throng of arriving guests. Her laugh rang out as she greeted people she hadn't seen in years. She appeared unconcerned, but Clayton knew she was merely acting.
He moved back toward the bride's dressing room, and when he raised his hand to knock, he found he was shaking. Yeah. Abby couldn't leave soon enough for him. "Molly?"
"Yes?"
"Are you ready?" he called out.
"Yes. I'm ready," she answered.
"I'll ask Brenna to tell them to start the music." She was in charge, after all, having far more to do with the arrangements than the bride had had.
Now, Brenna lined up the wedding party. She look her place beside the best man, Dr. Nick Jameson. Colleen and Rory would walk together afler Abby and before the flower girl and twin ring bearers, leaving Clayton to walk down with Abby before going back to retrieve the bride.
When Abby's fingers closed around his arm, his muscles tensed. He didn't know exactly what it was about her touch, but he could still feel the pressure of her hand against his thigh from the day before. What would it have felt like directly against his skin?
He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe. Brenna turned back toward him and said, "You're sure Molly's all right? She wouldn't let us back in to check on her."
He nodded. "She told me she was ready."
"Okay, here we go," Brenna said, and then she and the best man headed down the aisle.
A few beats later, Clayton and Abby followed. Actually, she led. "Who's speeding now?" he murmured, and glanced down at her. Her face pinched and pale, she stared down all those townspeople she'd left behind eight years ago. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling at the moment. She'd left in disgrace at eighteen, and now she'd returned as a single mother. He honestly didn't judge her for that, but he suspected that some people might in their conservative town.
When they reached the altar, she held his arm for an extra moment before releasing him to step behind Brenna. He hesitated, irrationally feeling as if he'd deserted her. If she needed protection, she had her friends. She didn't need him.
He turned, walked past the groom and best man and then slipped around the last pew to return to the vestibule. Just inside the open doors to the church Lara stood between Buzz and T.J. The boys were tussling over a pillow that would have held the wedding rings, had their father trusted them with them. Lara's tiny fingers clutched a basket of crimson rose petals. With her golden hair and pale skin, she looked angelic in her gown of white lace and satin.
He crouched to her level and asked, "Sweetheart, are you okay?"
She shifted her gaze from the basket of petals, her eyes wide with apprehension, as her mother's had been a minute earlier.
"You're going to be great," Clayton assured her, resting his hand on her shoulder for a quick squeeze before she and the tuxedoed twins started down the aisle. The boys rushed ahead while Lara painstakingly dropped her petals, one at a time, upon the white runner. Gentle laughter rippled through the congregation. From the front of the church, Abby beamed an encouraging smile at her daughter.
Clayton's breath caught and held. Abby had never looked more beautiful to him. But he would have to pull his gaze away. He didn't have time for the feelings that were rushing through him. He didn't have
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