Down for the Count(3)

Run away, her mind screamed. For once, she went with impulse over common sense.

“Cat, go tell Marty he can let the guests know why I’ve left. He’s a big, fat, stupid liar, so I’m sure he’ll come up with a plausible reason. But tell him if he makes it look like it was my fault, he’ll regret it. And make sure he tells them to take their gifts home. Oh, and try to manage my mother, okay? I hate to put you in that spot, but she is going to flip out and I can’t handle her brand of crazy right now when I haven’t even had a chance to have my own.”

“No problem. Leave The Admiral to me.”

Cat’s nickname for her mother usually brought a smile to Lacey’s face, but not today. Today, she winced at the accuracy of the name. Things hadn’t gone The Admiral’s way, and she wasn’t going to be happy with her little sailors. The question was, would she try to be understanding or would she blame it on Lacey—again?

“I owe you huge for this. I just need some time before I can face the fallout.” She turned to pin Galen with a frank stare, ready to beg if she needed to. But when she faced him fully for the first time, her heart hitched. His dark hair was tousled, and his chin bore the scruff that was ever-present unless he was prepping for a fight. True to form, he was underdressed in a sports jacket that stretched tight over his wide shoulders and jeans that had seen better days. She’d spent thousands of her waking hours picturing that face, and just as many sleeping hours dreaming of it. A pang of regret for what never was joined the other riot of emotions from this hellacious day, and when she met his brown eyes, the pity there was more than she could bear. The tears flowed freely and she swallowed the last morsel of her pride. “Can you get me the hell out of here, please?”#p#分页标题#e#

…

For a long moment, Galen held her amber gaze and didn’t respond, although his instincts were bleating up a storm. This is a baaaaad idea. His instincts were pretty fucking solid most days and had saved him a lot of pain, both in the ring and out. In fact, hadn’t he told Lacey not to marry this loser? He opened his mouth to remind her of that fact again but snapped it shut a second later when his instincts told him a move like that would earn him a high-heeled kick to the family jewels. “And go where?”

“Anywhere, blockhead,” Cat cut in with a roll of her eyes. “She has to get out of here. You two go. I’ll deal with everything here.”

Lacey gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Cat. I’d be lost without you.”

“Tell me about it. And don’t worry. If Loverboy tries to throw you under the bus, I’ll make sure everyone hears the truth,” she assured Lacey, giving her arm a gentle pat.

Galen really didn’t want to get involved in this mess. Something had been happening over the past couple years, and he didn’t like it. The obligatory annoyance combined with grudging affection that guys typically felt toward the good longtime friends of their sisters had begun to change when it came to Lacey. She was no longer a gangly, awkward teen—and he knew it. Luckily, that was right about the time she’d saddled herself with Marty the dishrag, so it hadn’t been an issue. Hell, he’d only come because his sister’s latest boy toy had bailed, and she needed a plus one. “Listen, I—”

“Galen. Please. I can’t go back in there.” Lacey’s voice had lost the shrill gloss of panic and now sounded resigned. Beat down.

God, he was a sucker. He closed his eyes for a long moment and nodded. “Okay. I’ve got my bike, though.” He cast a dubious eye at her floor-length gown.

“We’ll make it work.” With the promise of imminent escape, she sounded stronger already. She jammed her arm through his so their elbows were locked and raised her chin. “Cat, I’ll call you later once I’m settled.”

“You threw your phone,” Galen reminded her.

“Indeed I did.” Her chin dipped a little before she rebounded like a champ. “Cat, I will e-mail you later if I can’t find a phone.”

“Cool. Love you, babe. And I promise, in a few months, after we’ve exacted our revenge, we’re going to look back at this and laugh,” Cat said.

Galen frowned and his sister shrugged. Between the two of them, they were screwing this up royally. Maybe he’d think of something good to say on the way out.

He led Lacey toward the main exit, but she tugged him toward the bar in the deserted lounge area. “One second.” She yanked her arm from his. “Excuse me, sir?” she called to the balding bartender washing glasses at an industrial-sized sink in the corner. Balancing precariously on the wooden footrest skirting the bar, she reached over the counter and plucked a bottle of champagne nestled in an ice bin. “Put this on my husband’s tab, would you? Marty Clemson, the wedding in the Rose Room.”