And she was the only woman he’d ever tried to be there for when she needed him. Fat lot of appreciation he’d gotten for that.
“Since we agree we wouldn’t touch each other with a ten-foot pole, how about you stop being such a weenie about the woman you do want? Please tell me you’re not going to mess it up with Cara again.”
“You should be reading the riot act to your sister. I’m not the one messing it up.” They’d had something perfectly fine that worked for both of them. Why couldn’t their relationship continue as is, no pressure, just two people who liked spending time together? Cara’s insistence on being Mrs. Mitchell or nothing had ruined it all. Ruined the fledging feelings that Keith could barely admit to himself, let alone to her.
“You’re impossible. How do you think I know that’s not true? I did talk to Cara. She let you go because she didn’t want to force you into another unwanted trip down the aisle.”
He snorted unevenly, guilt crowding into his lungs. “Cara couldn’t have done that at gunpoint.”
“Exactly. And given what happened the first time, can you blame her for not wanting to introduce any more accidents into the mix?” Meredith’s laser-sharp gaze tore through his flesh to pierce his heart. “She gave you up, despite being madly in love with you, because she didn’t want to unintentionally trap you into marriage. Happy with yourself, Mitchell?”
Keith’s knees turned to jelly. “She’s in love with me? Why didn’t she say anything?”
The notion planted itself in his chest and spread. Cara was in love with him. For real, this time. She wouldn’t have told Meredith if it wasn’t true.
Meredith shook her head with a grunt of disgust. “I take it back. I don’t like you. You’re a moron and Cara can do much better. You deserve to spend the rest of your life alone. Good luck with that.”
Mahogany hair flying, Meredith turned her back on Keith and stomped off through a sea of wedding professionals socializing on the beach.
Keith’s gaze lit on Cara and her friend as they stood talking near the shoreline. Their faces fuzzed under his scrutiny and his own face superimposed itself over that of the man standing by the woman Keith had held in his arms last night. The woman he’d walked away from once again because he couldn’t do what she wanted.
No, he’d refused to do what she wanted. Refused to even consider the possibility that marriage could be something other than a cold union designed to give a woman a life of luxury. Maybe it was like that with some people. Maybe it would have been that way with the Cara he’d almost married the first time.
But everything was different now. She was different. And he’d skipped right over the possibility that marriage could be something else. Cara had never even given him a chance to figure out what their relationship could be, just waltzed out the door and didn’t even bother to tell him something so important as the fact that she’d fallen in love with him.
And hearing it from Meredith instead of Cara was unacceptable. She owed him an explanation for how she’d figured out something so monumental.
Suddenly he had a perverse need to hear it from Cara’s own lips.
“Mr. Mitchell.” One of the groundskeepers launched into a question about the mock wedding setup that Keith barely heard.
“Excuse me.” Keith stepped around the uniformed man, leaving him hanging midsentence, and strode across the sand with nary a thought for his best Italian shoes.
He crashed Cara’s little party with the same amount of remorse—none.
“Keith Mitchell.” He stuck his hand out and sized up the man as they shook. He was too pretty, too well dressed and too short for Cara.
And their conversation was over.
“Come with me, Cara,” Keith said shortly and drank in the luminous vision in white, so beautiful, his lungs hitched.
“I’m a little busy,” she responded just as shortly. “Can’t it wait?”
No. It couldn’t. And he was this close to picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder to take her somewhere private so she could explain right now why she could tell Meredith about her feelings but not Keith. He wanted to hear her say she loved him and then he could figure out what to do about it.
That’s when he actually read the guy’s name tag. The word buyer leaped out and whacked him upside the head. This must be the source of Cara’s good news. And he’d intruded like a jealous lover.
Well...he kind of was a jealous lover. And he deserved every bit of the heat in Cara’s glare.
“It can wait.” Keith nodded to the man who was likely offering Cara the business proposition she’d mentioned. “Sorry I intruded. Cara, text me when you’re free. Meet me in my office.”
“Sure. See you later,” she said and shifted her gaze pointedly. Go away. It wasn’t hard to interpret.
Morosely, Keith cooled his heels in his office for a solid thirty minutes, holding his phone like a lifeline, shaking it occasionally. Still no text messages.
But he did get three phone calls from Mary asking his opinion about the mock wedding setup and all Keith could tell her was to use her best judgment. Mary’s return comment summed it up.
“You should keep Cara around permanently. That woman knows brides.”
She did. And she knew that she wanted to be one. Keith had bad-mouthed marriage for the past week, so of course she’d bailed on him. Yeah, he was a moron. Cara hadn’t told him she’d fallen in love because he hadn’t given her any reason to.
Just as he hadn’t given her any reason to meet him in his office. She wasn’t coming. And he couldn’t blame her.
If he hoped to salvage anything from this debacle he’d made of their relationship, he needed to go big or go home. It was time to turn around the one thing he’d resisted thus far—himself. Mitchell the Missile had a very worthy target to hit.
And if he wanted to hear from Cara’s lips that she loved him, he probably needed to admit he’d fallen in love with her, too. Out loud. To her.
The revelation would probably shock her as much as it had shocked him.
* * *
Cara perched on the white wooden folding chair in the first row, where the groom’s family would normally sit if this were a real wedding. But since the bride and groom were actually actors Mary had hired to perform for the expo guests, Cara didn’t think anyone would mind if she grabbed a good seat.
She loved weddings. No doubt about it.
Her island fling with Keith had given her back the ability to see a wedding for what it was—a celebration of love and commitment between two people who wanted to be together. She’d never settle for anything less and if it meant she’d never experience a walk down the aisle, that was the price of holding out for love.
Still clad in Mulan, Cara carefully crossed her legs so she wouldn’t rip a seam. She should have gone back to her room and changed, but she couldn’t bear to take it off yet. The dress had become symbolic of the growth in Cara Chandler-Harris Designs, of her own growth. And it was her dress and she liked wearing it.
Music piped through the sound system and the bride floated down the sand aisle, barefoot, exactly as Cara had suggested to Mary. When the bride reached her groom, the minister, also an actor, began the ceremony.
“Dearly beloved...” The minister droned through the first bit and then said, “If anyone objects to this union , speak now or forever hold your peace.”
“I object.”
Keith’s voice cut through the balmy sunset atmosphere. Cara whirled and there he was, waltzing up the aisle as if he owned it. He halted at the first row, gaze on Cara.
Everyone else’s gaze was on him. Yummy Interrupting Man had struck again.
“On what grounds?” the minister asked on cue, as if this was part of the script.
“On the grounds that every wedding should unite two people who are in love with each other,” Keith said but not to the minister. His melty caramel eyes held fast to Cara. “The bride and groom don’t qualify.”
“What are you doing?” Cara whispered.
“What I should have done two years ago,” he said at normal volume because obviously all the expo guests should be included in a discussion about their ill-fated history. “And last night. Instead of walking away, I’m in the middle of a wedding. Where you want me.”
The power of speech nearly deserted her but she managed to keep her composure. Somehow. What was he up to?
Warily, she swept him with a bored once-over. “Well, sugar, that’s mighty nice but if I recall, your Speedy Gonzales shoes make quite an impression, especially at weddings.”
“That’s why I took them off.” He lifted one bare foot for emphasis. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her heart stumbled and erratic beats throbbed in her throat as she finally caught up. He’d interrupted the wedding to make a specific point, but he was sure taking his sweet time in getting there. “What’s this all about?”
Had he crashed the mock wedding because she hadn’t responded to the royal summons to his office? Unlikely. The fashion show had been her crowning achievement and this was his. Keith Mitchell had turned Regent Resorts into a premier wedding destination and the mock wedding should be the highlight of it.