to disappear from the party last night...
A light drizzle started as Major pulled into the parking lot. He grabbed his folder of music and jogged in through the side door by the church offices.
George sat at the piano practicing the new piece they’d chosen to sing Sunday. He stopped, stood, and extended his hand. “Hullo.”
“Hey. I figured I’d be the last one here.”
“No. Forbes and Clay both called to say they’re running late.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s good, actually. I could use a few minutes’ downtime before we start singing.” Major tossed his folder into a chair and collapsed onto the floor, stretching out flat on his back.
“Nice pants,” George chuckled.
“Yeah, they’re all the rage in New York,” Major shot back. He did some of the stretches he’d learned in physical therapy after tearing his trapezius, ending his college football career. They almost always worked to ease the deep muscle spasms between his shoulder blades he’d been plagued with since then. Recently, though, nothing seemed to work. Every time he saw Meredith and the insane urge struck to tell her everything—about Ma, about his jealousy over Ward Breaux—he would clamp his mouth shut, his shoulders would tense, and the sharp pain would worsen.
He sat up and eyed George, who’d gone back to playing.
George must have sensed the scrutiny, because he looked up, and the music stopped. “What?”
Major hooked his arms around his bent knees. “I need to ask you something really personal. And if you don’t want to answer, I’ll understand.”
“Go on.” George turned to straddle the piano bench and leaned over to brace his elbows on his knees.
“When you met Anne and you couldn’t tell her the truth about who you were and whose wedding she was really planning, how did you handle it? How did you keep from just blurting out the whole truth?”
George registered no expression of surprise or offense—or any reaction at all—over the question. The man should be a professional poker player.
“I wanted to every day.” George rubbed his chin. “Many times I came close to slipping up and saying things that would have shattered my cover story. It was a wrench, I’ll tell you, especially once I started falling in love with her.”
Major could completely understand that. “But how did you make yourself keep the secret?”
“Because I was foolish enough to believe that the contract I signed was more important. But when I finally realized that it was not only wrong but would hurt Anne more the longer I waited to tell her, I gained permission to at least tell her I wasn’t the groom, just his stand-in.”
Major rocked back and forth. “So you wish you’d told her everything from the very beginning?”
“Of course.” George eyed Major speculatively. “Is there someone you’re keeping a secret from that’s vital to your relationship?”
“But it’s something that will affect the person you want to have a relationship with?” Deep lines formed in George’s forehead when he raised his brows like that.
“Yeah—it could. It probably will.” Major collapsed down onto his back again, covering his eyes with his left arm.
“You must tell her, then. Even if you are not dating currently, putting off the telling of your secret will only serve to make it worse when the truth becomes known later.”
The choir room door swung open, and Forbes entered looking like Cary Grant or Gregory Peck in his dark gray, tailored suit and overcoat.
“Still waiting on Clay?” Forbes shook hands with George.
“I imagine he’ll be along shortly.” George turned back square to the keyboard and began playing again.
“In that case, Major, can I have a word with you? Privately.” Forbes motioned to the door leading into the men’s robe room.
Major nodded and followed, hoping this conversation wasn’t about what he was afraid it would be about. He leaned against the metal storage cabinet in the small room.
Forbes stood in the middle of the room and turned to face him, unbuttoning his suit coat. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but you have to tell Meredith about your mom.”
Yep. That was what he’d hoped this conversation
“She asked me about your family last night. She was very concerned about something that happened Wednesday night—you had to leave the banquet?”
“Ma spilled hot water during a cooking lesson and burned her arms. I had to meet her at the emergency room.” Major crossed his arms then uncrossed them—he couldn’t protect himself from Forbes’s penetrating gaze no matter where his arms were.
“Look, I went along with you when you decided not to tell anyone but my parents about your mother’s medical condition, but aside from the fact that Meredith is your boss, she’s a person who cares a lot about you—I have a feeling more than either of us wants to admit—and you’re only hurting her by not telling her the truth.”
Major ran his tongue along the backs of his teeth. Twice within five minutes. It couldn’t have been any clearer if God had taken a cast-iron skillet and smashed him over the head with it. “I promise, I will tell her the truth.” As soon as the right moment presented itself.
Chapter 22
“Meredith, you’re going to wrinkle your gown if you keep holding it up like that.”
At Anne’s soft words, Meredith released her death grip on the layers of purple chiffon and satin. “Isn’t the bride supposed to be the nervous wreck and the maid of honor the one reassuring her?”
Anne paused in her circuit around the room, ensuring each person knew what to do as soon as they left the bridal room.
Melancholic joy filled Meredith’s throat until she thought it might burst. She was overjoyed for her cousin yet at the same time felt as if she were losing her.
“Don’t start,” Anne warned, her smile wavering. “You know if you lose it, I will, too.”
“I know—” Meredith’s phone chimed and saved her from dissolving into the unwanted tears. She dug her purse out of her satchel and read the new text message. She deleted it, tossed the phone back in her bag, and turned to Anne. “Ward’s here. Do you mind...?”
“We have a few minutes. Go on.”
Meredith avoided grabbing the front of her dress to lift the skirt. She didn’t need to for walking. She was just used to long skirts that were straighter than this A-line, flared thing. She was also used to being much more covered up on top. Though the straight-cut bodice provided modesty, the spaghetti-straps left her shoulders feeling very bare.
She nodded and smiled in greeting at the guests milling in the vestibule.
Ward’s dark, curly head towered above everyone else. Her pulse gave a halfhearted flutter at the sight of him. Dressed in the tailored charcoal suit he’d worn on their first date, he drew the admiring attention of every female near him.
Why, then, couldn’t Meredith muster even an ounce of attraction for him? She’d hoped that by bringing him as her date to such a romantic affair as a wedding she might be able to jump-start an interest in him as something more than just a friend.
“Meredith Guidry.” Her name came out as almost a low growl when Ward finally noticed her. “You look gorgeous. I’m afraid I’ll break you if I hug you.”
She rested her hand on his chest as he squeezed her bare shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Thanks. You
