A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [119]
It could have been him in there standing at the altar with Pris. She hadn’t cared whether he’d achieved his financial goals. But he cared. His father might have died broke, but that wasn’t happening to him. He clenched his jaw and vowed to get through the next half hour with some kind of grace.
PRIS MOVED LIKE A ROBOT, barely hearing her mother’s lavish compliments or her father’s gruffly spoken words about how beautiful she looked. What a disaster. These moments were supposed to be so precious. And Pris was furious.
“I have to take my seat.” Her mother gave her a tight hug.
“Thanks, Mom. Thanks for everything.” I don’t want to do this.
Was the whole mess partly her fault? She’d agreed with Brad that they should wait until the wedding night, maybe out of guilt because she’d had such terrific sex with Josh. Six months had seemed like a decent period of abstinence to make sure all her body memories of Josh were gone. Brad’s plan had sounded old-fashioned and sweet.
Instead, it had been at best cowardly and at worst deceitful. According to his ex-girlfriend, Brad was a thirty-second wonder. Zero staying power, that Bradley. Pris was as sympathetic as the next girl when given the chance to be. Brad hadn’t been man enough to give her that chance.
She didn’t want to marry him today. She might not want to marry him at all, but definitely not today. And yet…the small church was jammed with people, some of whom had known her since she was a baby. The wedding had cost a sizable amount of money. Her mother’s eyes were filled with tears of happiness, and her father looked proud and nervous as he held out his arm.
“It’s time, sweetheart,” he said.
Pris slipped her arm through his and they walked into the church vestibule. Through the archway she could see the altar, with Brad looking handsome, but a trifle uneasy. As well he should, pulling the wool over her eyes like that. The ex-girlfriend had said she’d tried all sorts of remedies and nothing had worked. She’d thought Pris should know.
The Wedding March began. Pris gripped her father’s arm and walked next to him the way they’d practiced. The aisle seemed a million miles long, but at last they reached the altar and her father withdrew, leaving her with Brad. The minister cleared his throat and smiled.
In an agony of indecision, Pris held up a hand, silently asking him to wait. Then she beckoned for Brad to lean down. Placing her lips next to his ear, she whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He turned red. “I didn’t think it was important,” he murmured.
“Not important?” Pris couldn’t believe he’d said that. She backed away from him, no longer worried about being discreet. “Well, it damned sure is to me!”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE CEREMONY HAD STARTED. Josh faced the front of the church, as if he could somehow see through those white double doors. He needed to accept this, needed to make sure his heart had been properly notified that Pris now belonged to someone else. He hadn’t thought it would hurt this much.
Before long, those double doors would open and Pris would come out. If she and Brad-baby were like most newlyweds, they’d be laughing in relief and joy as they hurried down the sidewalk to the waiting limo. Josh had left the passenger door open in preparation for them to plunge inside.
After that, he’d be forced to listen to their breathless words of love on the drive to the reception. And he’d know that within hours they’d be naked together.
As he was torturing himself with that final thought, the church doors flew open, and he gulped. Wow, that was quick. Wait a minute. Pris was running out, her skirts hoisted so she could move faster, but where was the groom?
“Start the car!” Pris yelled, her veil flying, her train dragging on the ground. “I’m outta here!”
Josh stared at her. “Are you serious?”
“Move it, Josh! We’re leaving!”
He didn’t have time to think of consequences. All he knew was that the woman of his dreams wanted