Goody Two Shoes (Invertary Book 2) (3 page)

“I want to get married here, in Invertary.” She was pleased her voice didn’t waver.

“Fine by me.” He was practically bursting with enthusiasm. “But I don’t want to hang around. We’ll go to the registrar tomorrow and get it done.”

Caroline swallowed hard. “No. I want a proper wedding. With friends and family. In a church.”

Josh stared at her for a moment. “Fine. You have three weeks.”

“My sister is eight months pregnant. If it’s in three weeks, she won’t be able to attend.”

“We’ll do something else for her later. If we’re going to do this, I want to do it fast. I’m done waiting. I want to be married. Three weeks is long enough.”

Caroline stared at his determined expression. He smiled softly. Something inside of her calmed. “Okay.”

Caroline stood unsteadily. Josh and Mitch stood too, making the vast room seem a whole lot smaller.

“Then”—she cleared her throat—“the answer to your question is yes.” She looked up into the mischievous eyes of a stranger. “I will marry you, Josh McInnes.”

She held out her hand to him, to seal the deal. With a wicked smile, he engulfed her hand in his. A bolt of pure electricity shot up her arm and through her body. She tingled from head to toe. Josh’s eyes darkened.

“Good decision,” he told her. “You won’t regret it.”

CHAPTER TWO

“You know.” Mitch chugged on his bottle of beer while he sat at the kitchen counter. “I thought that your most embarrassing moment was in Italy, when you were serenading that chick you were drooling over and fell off the stage.” He shook his head slowly. “But this tops anything you’ve done in the twenty-nine years I’ve known you.”

“What?” Josh shrugged. “This is great. The hunt is over. I’m getting married. Why is this embarrassing?”

“The fact you don’t know the answer to that question is what worries me the most.”

Josh ignored him and padded over to the freezer. There had to be something he could zap and eat. Adrenalin always made him hungry.

“You should be happy.” Josh pulled two trays of lasagne out of the deep freeze. “This is what we’ve been working towards for months.” He grinned as he stabbed the plastic lid with a fork. “I have to be honest with you. There was a minute where I thought you weren’t going to pull it off. I thought I’d have to bring in the professionals.”

“And I have to be honest with you. I thought you’d get bored of this and move on to something more productive and slightly less insane—like the new album.”

Josh plonked the food in the microwave and pressed the button that said
dinner
. Nothing happened. He randomly pressed a whole lot of other buttons until the machine started to work.

“Look.” Josh grabbed two root beers from the fridge. “You know me. When I make up my mind about something, it’s a done deal.”

“Yeah, but that’s business. Not finding a wife.”

“Apparently it works for everything.”

Mitch rubbed his hand over his face. “There’s no talking to you. You’re determined to ride this inanity train wherever it leads, aren’t you?”

Josh pulled the trays out of the microwave to see if anything was happening. They were still ice. He put them back in and pressed random buttons again.

“This isn’t insane. It’s logical. Practical. You’re just jealous because you didn’t think of it first. I’m not possessive. You can have my idea. I’ll even find you a wife if you want.”

“I’ll take you up on that”—Mitch paused as if in thought—“the minute hell freezes over.”

Josh grinned at him.

“You do realise,” Mitch said, “that you’ve just told a woman you don’t know that you’re going to have sex with her, and only her, for the rest of your life.”

Huh?
Josh leaned against the counter.

Mitch pointed at him. “You didn’t think about that, did you?”

Josh bristled. “I can do commitment. I’m looking for commitment.”

“Well, you better hope she’s good in bed.”

Josh felt a momentary pang of doubt. He narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You’re not going to make me second-guess this. I know I’m doing the right thing. And I’m not going to discuss my marital sex life with you.”

“What sex life? You proposed. You shook hands. She practically jumped out of her skin and then she left. I’m still burning from the heat of the exchange.”

“I’m not listening to you.” Josh reached for the phone. “You can’t talk me out of this. I know it’s a great idea.”

Mitch shook his head as he looked at the ceiling. Josh dialled his parents’ number in Florida.

“It’s Josh,” his dad shouted through the house.

A moment later, his mother was on the other phone. Josh grinned over her endless questions about his health. This was what he wanted: exactly the kind of comfortable relationship his parents had. Something that was stable and built on strong foundations, not on hormones. He glared at Mitch. Like he was going to take advice from a guy whose social life was dead and whose last serious relationship was in high school.

“I’ve got news.” Josh squeezed the words in when his mother paused for breath. There was silence. He chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s good.”

“Do you want to spit it out, son?” his dad said. “Or do we have to guess?”

Josh took a deep breath. “I’m getting married.”

More silence.

“We didn’t know you were dating anyone.” His mother sounded confused.

“It’s been a fast process. I haven’t known her long, but you’re going to love her. We’re getting married in a few weeks.” He checked the calendar stuck to the fridge. “Mid-August. In Scotland.”

There was silence.

“Hello?” Josh called.

“You got a girl pregnant, didn’t you?” His mother’s tone oozed disappointment.

“You better not have,” his father threatened—like he could influence the situation in some way. Josh almost laughed.

“I didn’t get anyone pregnant.” How was it possible he was thirty-five and his parents still made him feel like a teenager?

“I don’t understand,” his mother said. “Was it love at first sight?”

“Not exactly,” Josh hedged.

“If there’s no baby on the way, then why the rush?” his father said. “Marriage isn’t something you jump into quickly.”

“You two did,” Josh pointed out.

“Those were different circumstances,” his father said.

“Yeah, but you don’t regret it,” Josh said.

More silence. He heard his mother take a deep breath.

“What’s she like?” his mother said at the same time as his father said, “How long have you known her?”

Josh answered his mother. “She’s great—she’s sensible and sweet and really organised.”

He could almost hear their stunned expressions.

“She’s not like your usual girlfriends,” his mother said anxiously.

“And that’s a good thing, right?”

“How long have you known her?” his dad asked again.

Josh ignored him. “I’ll send you some plane tickets for the wedding. It’s going to be great.”

“How long have you known her, son?” His dad used the voice that used to scare him witless as a kid.

But he wasn’t a kid any longer. He glanced at the clock. “About an hour.”

“What the hell?” his father barked in his ear.

“Well, great. Good talk,” Josh said. “I’ll see you both at the wedding.” He doubted they could hear him. “I’ll call another time.” He hung up.

“That went well,” Mitch said from behind him.

Josh turned to see that Mitch had eaten both portions of lasagne. His stomach grumbled.

“They’ll come around.” He opened the freezer and started his hunt for food all over again.

Caroline walked straight past the community centre and into the Presbyterian church on the corner of Dewar Street. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten out of the castle. All she remembered was agreeing to marry Josh, and the next thing she knew she was walking back to work. They’d shaken hands to seal the deal.

She shook her head slightly. When she’d imagined a proposal as a child, it hadn’t included a handshake. But, in saying that, back then her proposal fantasy had included a unicorn, a flowing pink dress and a real-life prince.

She pushed open the heavy wooden doors and went searching for the minister. She found him in his office.

“Caroline,” the old man grumbled. “If this is more hassle about the roof fundraiser, you can turn around and leave now.”

Caroline sat down hard in the rickety wooden chair facing his desk. She held her briefcase tightly in her lap. “I have a confession,” she said.

He looked confused. “You know we’re not Catholic, right?”

“Of course I know that, but I need to confess. I’ve done something terrible.”

“Okay.” He took off his bifocal glasses and linked his hands on the blotter in front of him. “I’m all ears. What do you need to confess?”

Caroline took a deep breath. “I’ve agreed to marry a man I don’t love.” The words rushed out in a gust of air.

Reverend Morrison frowned at her. “Why are you bothering me with this? We both know that isn’t a sin. If it was, half the town would be in here complaining.”

“But it’s wrong. Isn’t it? It has to be wrong.” She glanced around the room, taking in the battered desk and the wall full of photos from his years running the parish. “I only did it to get my hands on the castle.”

“The castle?” He thought for a minute. His eyes went wide. “Did you agree to marry that singing American?”

She nodded as her cheeks burned.

“Caroline, I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know why you’re asking me if this is okay. You have a better grasp of life’s moral issues than I have. Does this man know you don’t love him?”

She nodded again.

“Then you aren’t lying.” He sighed. “Does he know you want the castle?”

“I made it a condition of agreeing.”

“Then you’ve been up front. I guess now all you need to decide is whether or not you’re going through with it.”

She sat up straight. “Of course I’m going through with it. I made a promise.”

He spread his hands wide. “What do you want from me, then?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say
reassurance
.

The minister let out a long-suffering sigh. His shoulders relaxed.

“Look, lassie, if your conscience is clear and you think you can live with the man, then I don’t see what’s to stop you.”

In an uncharacteristic gesture, Caroline gnawed her bottom lip. “I don’t really know him,” she confessed.

“Maybe you should get to know him.”

“The wedding is in three weeks.”

“Who’s doing the service?”

She smiled apologetically. With a grump, the minister reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an old, battered calendar.

“Let me see. It’s Monday now, so how do Thursday afternoons suit you?”

She looked at him blankly.

“Wedding counselling. Looks like you two need the full package.”

Caroline’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Thursday will be fine. Will you tell Josh or will I?”

At last the old man grinned. “Oh, I think that should be your job.”

“I’ve booked the flights.” Andrew McInnes stood in the doorway to the bedroom. “We leave in a couple of hours. Is that enough time to pack?”

Helen McInnes didn’t look at her husband as she pulled clothes from the drawers. “It will have to be.”

There was silence. She gritted her teeth. Andrew McInnes was a man of few words. It had been charming when she’d met him as a girl, but now it was lonely. All those conversations she had with herself. All those years spent trying to guess what was going on in his head. She was tired of it. All of it.

She heard him shuffle his feet. “Are we going to tell him?”

Helen turned to look at her husband of thirty-five years. Logically, she knew he was older. His hair was greying and there were wrinkles round his eyes, but he still looked like the man she’d met all those years ago. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and deep-set eyes that were always so intense. She’d loved those intense blue eyes of his, especially when they were focused on her. It’d been a long time since his scrutiny had made her tingle. Now it only made her sad.

“I guess we have to.”

He nodded. No wasted words for Andrew McInnes. He pushed his hands into the pockets of the ugly tartan trousers he insisted on wearing, and looked at her. Just looked.

“I better pack, then.” He turned and headed to the spare bedroom, where he’d been sleeping for almost a year.

Helen let out the breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding, and stared out of the window to the golf course behind their house. A house she hated. She felt guilty as she looked down onto their pool—guilty because she missed her friends in Atlantic City; she missed working all day long beside her husband. At least back then they’d had something to talk about. Now there was nothing.