"Clayton can walk down the aisle with you
and
give away the bride," Mrs. McClintock said, as if she'd been listening all along, rather than jumping into the conversation as the group joined her in the kitchen of the Kelly house.
"So how was your trip, honey?" she asked Abby, setting down a bowl of salad and enveloping her in a hug.
Abby stretched her arms around Mrs. McCHntock's back, holding tight to the older woman's softness and warmth. The mingled scents of vanilla and cinnamon clung to the woman's shoulder-length brown hair. She probably dyed it now, as she had not even a strand of gray, and this woman had earned more gray hairs than anyone Abby knew. She'd survived the loss of her beloved husband and the raising of four headstrong children. Abby's heart stretched with admiration and love for the woman she'd always wished had been her mother, too.
Nearly choked with emotion, Abby managed to say, "The flight was fine."
And the flight, although late, had been fine. The ride to Cloverville, thanks to Clayton, had not. At least he'd answered the question she'd carried with her for the past eight years. He would never let her forget about the screwed-up girl she'd once been. In his eyes, at least, she would always be the legendary troublemaker from Cloverville.
Mrs. McClintock released Abby, to reach for Lara and take the drowsy child from Clayton's arms. "Oh, she's gotten so big since the last time I was in Chicago. She looks more and more like you every time I see her."
Every time she saw her.
Molly wasn't the only family member Clayton intended to get alone for a conversation. Why had his mother never told him about Abby's daughter?
More importantly, why did his arms feel so empty right now without Lara? He drew in a deep breath, catching a whiff of grilling beef through the open patio doors. Mr. Kelly was as renowned for his barbecuing as his baking, but Clayton's hunger barely stirred. Abby Hamilton had been back in town for little more than an hour and already he'd lost his appetite.
He glanced over at her, grudgingly appreciative of how her curves filled out the white tank top and tight jeans. Her friends were all in casual dresses because of the rehearsal, but here she was, still dressed like a teenager. A damned sexy one, he had to acknowledge. Apparently he'd only lost his appetite for food.
But more than her body drew his interest. Her face softened with affection as she gazed at his mom and her daughter. Her expression of love touched something deep in his chest, bringing about another kind of longing—one he had no business feeling.
"Clayton, where's Erin?" his mother asked.
"Erin?" he repeated, distracted.
"She means Ellen," Colleen said. Even outside the agency, she sometimes acted like her brother's office manager. "Weren't you bringing her tonight?"
"She couldn't make it."
"A lot of people couldn't make it tonight." Brenna noted, as she picked up tongs to finish tossing the salad greens. The maid of honor's voice deepened with frustration when she added, "Even the best man didn't show up. It's going to be pure chaos tomorrow."
Despite her friend's concern, Abby smiled. They had always considered Brenna the mother of the group. She liked being in control almost as much as Clayton did, which was why she'd already taken over and expanded her parents' bakery. Abby had occasionally wondered why Clayton had never gotten together with the voluptuous redhead, since they had so much in common. But he'd always treated Brenna simply as if she were one of his sisters. Maybe it was because she shared the same Irish and Italian heritage the McClintocks had. Or maybe it was because Clayton had approved of Brenna, whereas he'd never approved of Abby.
Eight years had passed, and she didn't seek his approval anymore—his or anyone else's in Cloverville. She'd only come back for Molly's wedding. The bride-to-be slid her arm around Abby's waist. "So you're not the only one who won't know what she's doing tomorrow," Molly teased.
Abby bit her tongue, holding back her comments about Molly not knowing what she was doing, either. Along with learning how to manage her ADD, she'd acquired some tact over the years. If only she could remember those lessons around Clayton....
But he distracted her. "I'm going to join the guys outside," he said as he stepped through the open doorway, obviously anxious to escape her presence.
Lara, however, wasn't eager to let him go. She wriggled out of Mrs. McClintock's arms. "Can I go, too, Mommy?" she asked. When Abby reluctantly offered a nod, the child ran out after him. reaching for Clayton's hand as two boys about her age ran up to them. They were dark-haired, blue-eyed miniatures of the man who stood beside Mr. Kelly at the grill. But Lara was obviously not charmed by their cuteness, and she clung to Clayton until the twins ran off across the backyard.
"Clayton has a fan," his mother said, grinning as she picked up the salad bowl and joined the others on the patio, leaving Molly. Brenna, Colleen and Abby alone in the kitchen.
A wide smile spread across Colleen's face. "This is so great. We're all here together again."
"Except for one of us." Molly reminded her younger sister of Eric's absence.
Abby had a pretty good idea about why Eric had backed out of being a groomsman. She imagined he would still probably rather be Molly's groom. Apparently a lot of things hadn't changed.
"It's so great to have you home, Abby," Colleen exclaimed, throwing her arms around Abby's neck.
Despite her concern over the impending marriage, Abby's heart swelled with happiness. She patted Colleen's back. "Hey, it's not like you guys haven't seen me in years. You've visited me. Not often enough," she playfully observed, "but at least you've visited."
"It's not the same as having you here." Colleen insisted. "Now that you've given up your place in Chicago, you need to move back to Cloverville. You can open the third branch of Temps to Go here."
The request wasn't exactly new. Abby had fielded it repeatedly in phone calls, letters and e-mails. She'd never been able to make Colleen understand that, to her, Cloverville could
never
be home. So instead of arguing, she changed the subject. "Brenna, did you hire any strippers for tonight?"
Colleen's thin body shook with laughter. With her graceful build and gorgeous face, the girl could have been a supermodel rather than an office manager. But like her big brother, she might have assumed her career out of a sense of obligation. Or guilt—as Abby well knew.
Regret dimmed Abby's happiness as she considered the part she'd played in Colleen's guilt. Maybe Clayton was right. Maybe she had caused too much trouble in the McClintock household.
"Strippers?" Colleen shook her head. "You haven't met the groom yet. No stripper could measure up to him."
"We're not having strippers." Brenna insisted, her expression strained. Not that she would disapprove of strippers— Brenna Kelly was no prude. Was she stressed with her responsibilities as maid of honor? From the long-distance conversations she'd had over the past few weeks, Abby suspected Brenna had more interest in planning the wedding than the bride had. And maybe more interest in the groom.
"It looks like dinner's ready," the redhead murmured as she stepped outside to join the others on the patio.
"Come on," Colleen pleaded with her sister. "You can share Josh with us for one night. You're going to have him for the rest of your life."
What little color there had been in Molly's face drained away, leaving her skin almost translucent.
"The thought of spending the rest of my life with one particular someone would give me the willies, too." Abby admitted. Not that anyone would want her forever. Even her own parents hadn't wanted her.
Molly shook her head. "No, it's just that..."
"What?" Abby persisted, hoping Molly would finally admit to her doubts.
But the brunette laughed. "
I
haven't even seen him naked yet."
Colleen sighed. "What a waste. But at least Clayton will be happy you saved yourself for marriage."
Abby suspected that her friend had waited to make love to Josh for a reason other than her big brother's approval. Molly didn't love her groom. And if she couldn't sleep with him, she certainly couldn't marry him.
Molly's dark eyes welled with tears, summoning every protective instinct Clayton possessed. What had Abby said to her? They'd only been alone together in the house for a few moments.
He asked his brother Rory to entertain Lara and went over to Molly. "Honey, are you okay?" he asked, using the same tone he had with Lara. His sister seemed as vulnerable and afraid as Abby's daughter had when she'd met him at the airport. Yet Molly had always been the strongest of his three siblings.
What
had Abby said to her? He turned his attention from his sister to the blond troublemaker, and although she never slowed her conversation with his mother and Mrs. Kelly, Abby met his stare and then closed one eye in an audacious wink.
Molly laughed, even as the tears shimmered on her lashes. "Nothing much has changed between the two of you," she commented.
"What do you mean?" There had never been anything between the two of them but animosity.
"You can't keep your eyes off each other."
Clayton's pulse quickened. Did Abby watch him in the way that he watched her? "I'm just making sure she's not starting trouble again."
"Isn't that excuse getting old, Clayton?"
Maybe it was. But he wasn't about to admit his attraction to Abby, not even to himself. Nothing could come of it. Abby hadn't been able to wait to leave Cloverville, and there was no way she was staying now. And even if she did, he wasn't interested.
"Look at you, Mol. You're crying. She's only been back a little while and she upset you."
"These aren't those kind of tears," Molly insisted.
"You're happy?"
Her gaze slid away from his. "I'm happy Abby's back home, where she belongs. I hope she stays."
Clayton's stomach dropped. He hoped she didn't. He didn't know how long he could deny the attraction. "Are you happy about tomorrow?" he asked. "About getting married?"
Molly gestured, hand shaking, toward where the groom-to-be stood near the grill, a twin on each arm, like matching blue-eyed, dark-haired bookends. "He's a great guy. Successful, handsome, generous and a wonderful father."
But did she love him? Hell, what did Clayton know about love? Only that it could hurt so much he didn't intend to learn any more about it than he already knew. He'd seen his mother's devastation when his father died, and he didn't intend to risk that kind of pain himself. It was better to feel
nothing,
he was certain.
"So you're sure...?" he asked his sister. "You're doing what
you
want to do?"
Even as she nodded, more tears pooled in her eyes. Her voice broke when she answered, "Yes."
Clayton pulled her into a hug. "I'm honored to be giving you away tomorrow, but I wish..."
It didn't matter what he wished. Nothing could bring back his father.
"I know," Molly said, pressing her lips to Clayton's cheek before pulling from his arms. "Me, too. But you'll do, big brother. I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us. For paying for my college and med school."
"
I
didn't," he protested. "It's really Dad's..."
"It's
your
money," she corrected. "You're the one working your butt off at the office. He's been gone eight years, Clayton. It's
your
office.
Your
agency.
Your
money. I can't believe you even insisted on paying for the wedding. Josh wanted to pay."
"Dad would have wanted..." He suppressed the emotion that was threatening to choke him. "It's the right thing to do."
"And Clayton always does the right thing," she teased him.
What about her? Did she really feel getting married tomorrow was the right thing? "Molly..."
She kissed his cheek again, and one of her tears dropped onto his neck. "Thank you."
He reached out, but she turned and ran back into the house. Before he could follow her, a soft hand slid over his forearm, pulling him up short.
His pulse didn't jump, so it couldn't be
her.
Instead of Abby, his mother tugged on his arm. "Come to the buffet and get some food, Clayton, before your brother eats it all. The way that kid eats, he must have a tapeworm."
"Mom, I should check on Molly."
"She's okay," she insisted. "All brides get emotional."
He hoped that was all it was and that nothing else was going on with his sister. Of all his siblings, he'd worried the least about Molly. She'd always been so focused, so determined to achieve her goals. Ever since their father died, she'd wanted to be a doctor. Getting married was a little detour from finishing med school and her residency, but he had no doubt she would still achieve her goals.
Unless...
Abby had referred to the ceremony as a shotgun wedding. Could Molly be pregnant? Did she
have
to get married? He wouldn't have thought so. The groom had been so traditional that he'd even asked Clayton for Molly's hand in marriage. But nowadays that really didn't mean anything. He allowed himself a selfish moment of satisfaction. Maybe Mom would soon have more than enough grandchildren to keep her happy and off his back.
"How come no one told me about Lara?" he asked her. The question had been burning in his mind since the airport.
His mother smiled her softening-the-blow smile. He'd seen it often over the years. "You tend to be judgmental, honey."
First Abby. Now his own mother. Stung, he clenched his jaw. "I am not judgmental of people."
"Oh, not
people,"
she agreed. "Just Abby. That's why she made us promise not to tell you."
So Abby had wanted to keep her daughter secret from him. Why? He'd never considered the fact that she might care about what he thought of her.
"Speaking of Abby," his mother continued, "you need to drop her back at the house. Instead of a bachelorette party, the girls are having one of their infamous sleepovers at our house. Then we'll all leave together for the church in the morning."