What a fool for imagining I could visit my ex-boyfriend’s hotel room in the wee hours and expect nothing besides my simple apology to happen.
Being Jake’s one-night stand would be embarrassing. Unbearable. Our story had ended four years ago. No good could come of revisiting it. Now to get through the rest of the weekend.
Chapter 2
The following afternoon, after hours of tossing and turning and fretting about even being in the same room as Jake, I strolled into the church, keeping my head held high as the usher led me to a middle pew. I settled into my seat, admiring the massive bouquets of blush and cream roses and the multitude of flickering gold candles.
My own dream wedding might have looked something like this, but reality hadn’t measured up. The initial excitement at Kyle’s proposal and the amazing diamond sparkler faded at his words not long afterward. “Let’s get ’er done.”
Scarcely two weeks later we had, though why I’d agreed to forgo the froth of satin and tulle I’d dreamed of and settled for a simple cream evening gown, I’d never figured out. Within minutes, our no-frills, no-fuss ceremony, attended only by one of Kyle’s closest friends and my best friend Beth as our reluctant witnesses, was over.
Now I understood Beth’s hesitation during the hasty planning phase. My marriage to high-financier Kyle Weston had fizzled before our second anniversary, our divorce now wreaking havoc on both my sanity and my pay cheques, which were in meagre supply, at least compared to Kyle’s.
“Amara! I’m so glad to see you.”
The familiar voice brought me to my feet. “Luciana.” I drew the young woman into my arms, squeezing her tiny frame in a hug, her soft floral scent surrounding me. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Urgh. Not so tight.” A giggle escaped as she wiggled from my grasp. “Nice to see you too.”
“Sorry.” I grabbed her hand. “Why are you here?”
“Jake couldn’t face this wedding alone. Where’s your guy? I heard you were married.”
I shook my head, lifting my empty hand for the obligatory wiggle. “That’s over.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
I bit my lip as Luci glanced at me, her lips twitching. Ha. Sure you are. Bring on the comment. Three … two … one …
“Have you seen my big brother yet? He’ll be joining me in a minute.”
I clasped my hands in my lap to stop their trembling. “He’s not the best man?”
“It’s a surprise he even came.” Luciana tilted her head. “He told you about Alysa?”
“Viv did.”
“Then you understand why he declined best man duties, but being so close with Dean and Dara, he insisted on coming.”
“Sounds like Jake.” That same obligation led me to be here for Dara, but I didn’t have a Luciana to spare me the agony of a solo attendance.
“Losing someone you love is awful. In those circumstances … I can’t even imagine,” Luciana said. “He’s talking to Tía Marisol but should be in soon. She’s babysitting, so he wanted to check in.”
My mouth grew dry, and I squirmed as her words sunk into my over-tired, sluggish brain. “Babysitting who?”
Luciana gripped my hand. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”
I dug my nails into my palm and shook my head.
“He has a daughter. Sarina’s the sweetest little thing.”
A slow burn crept up my neck. “Jake’s a dad?”
The man under discussion slid into the pew beside his sister, his faint smile accompanied by a terse nod in my direction. “Amara.”
“Isn’t it great she’s here?” Luciana squeezed my hand.
Jake shrugged, keeping his head bowed.
Luciana heaved a sigh, her lips flattening into a thin line. “Somehow, I thought you’d be happier,” she muttered. “How’s Sarina?”
“She still has a fever, though it’s gone down some since this morning.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Two days is too long to be away.”
“It’s the teething.” Luciana squeezed her brother’s hand. “Tía will take excellent care of Sari.” She peeked my way, widening her eyes and tilting her head slightly toward her big brother. “Excuse me. I have to use the ladies’ room.”
Jake’s mouth set in a grim line as Luciana scooted past his knees and hurried down the aisle.
“Jake. About last night.” I glanced around the rapidly filling church, lowering my voice to a bare whisper. “Let me explain.”
One eyebrow rose. “Explain what? Your mastery of extreme sprinting?”
“I’m sorry.” I slid closer, resting my hand on his arm. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. I only wanted to say—”
He looked at the row of people to his left, then back at me. “This is not the time or place.”
Those words yanked me back four years in time. Jake’s favourite phrase, always uttered at the worst moment. The last time I’d heard it from his lips, I’d bolted, packing my bag and boarding the first flight headed to Vancouver, which conveniently, was located on the opposite side of the country from Halifax. Maybe he wouldn’t forgive me for running this time, either. Why would he? “Pretty name, Sarina. How old is she?”
“One,” he said. “Dara didn’t tell you about my daughter?”
“No. I’ve been out of touch. Congratulations.”
“Excuse me. Pardon.” Luciana shuffled past the guests who’d filled our row, eyeing us before she manoeuvred around me. “Scooch over.” She wiggled into the tiny space on my right, forcing me closer to Jake.
As the warmth of his thigh pressed against mine, I wrapped my arms around myself, squeezing my legs together and attempting to become as small as possible.
“Sorry.” Jake shifted, creating a sliver of room between us.
The music changed and heads turned as Dean, his best man,
