The #1 Bestsellers Collection 2011(206)

Brooke inched away from him, pivoting back into the elevator. “I need time alone to mull this over.”

“Fine.” He held the doors open with flattened palms. “I’ll stay out of your way at home tonight.”

She knew if she walked into his house again she would end up in his bed. “I’m going to my condo. I can take care of myself now, remember? I’ve given you what you wanted these past few weeks with dates and getting to know each other. Now give me what I need. Space.”

Brooke jabbed the close button. Thank goodness he took the hint and released the doors.

The elevator music swaddled her in claustrophobic memories of another time, another elevator, she and Jordan so hungry for each other.

As the chimes dinged with each passing floor, she realized her triumph would be short-lived. With her sister and Emilio’s wedding only two days away, Brooke would see Jordan tomorrow night at the rehearsal dinner.

And the next day, she would face him as she came down the aisle in a church. Even though she wouldn’t be the bride, the symbolism of the moment would be damn near unbearable with her heart already breaking.





Ten


Jordan popped a caviar canapé in his mouth at the reception, his mind still full of images of Brooke at the church service. She had never looked so beautiful to him as she did walking down the aisle this afternoon at the wedding.

Too bad the service had been for her sister and his brother. But as the maid of honor, Brooke had still been making her way toward him. Her Christmas red dress skimming her body. Hair swept up. A small bouquet shielding her stomach.

He’d barely noticed the bride in her beaded gown and veil—well, other than her train so long it could have clothed a couple of people. No. His attention had focused soundly on Brooke as she stole his breath then, and at the reception now.

He and Emilio had spent most of the evening before having a brother-to-brother chat after the bachelor party. They’d discussed the Sheila McKay debacle and the need to sit down with Parker soon to clear the air on that subject.

His sibling had also offered some words of wisdom about pursuing Brooke. Namely patience and honesty. Brooke was without a doubt the most sensitive of the Garrison clan.

Even at the reception on the Garrison estate, he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she stood on the veranda talking to her sisters-in-law. They all wore the holiday crimson dresses, Brooke’s higher waistband for her expanding stomach the only difference in the gowns. Their smaller rose bouquets lay discarded along the patio wall now that staged photos were complete. The Christmas themed wedding reminded him of the holiday he longed to spend with her. The gifts for her and the baby he’d wanted to share.

Reaching to snag another hors d’oeuvre from a passing waiter, Jordan nodded to Brandon as he strode by to claim his fiancée from the group of women. Jordan got good vibes from Brandon and Cassie after the way they’d played host and hostess to him. His memories of Brooke in the Bahamas kept him hopeful he could salvage some of the relationship they’d been working toward.

Except she was still keeping him on the deep freeze. No talking beyond polite exchanges in front of others. Blatant avoidance of any alone time.

She looked gorgeous, but tired. Moonbeams and the tiny white Christmas lights strung throughout the shrubbery accented the shadows under her eyes that no one would see except for somebody who knew her well.

Footsteps behind him shook him free. He turned to find Parker approaching, thrusting a drink his way. Given the dry ceremony, he knew the glass wouldn’t contain more than sparkling water. Good, since he needed to keep his mind clear. A seemingly subdued Bonita Garrison had behaved so far during her day out of the rehab clinic. She’d even been polite in a brief—very brief—exchange with Cassie and Brandon.

But he wasn’t taking anything for granted.

Jordan took the drink. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Parker leaned back against the stone wall littered with poinsettia and rose arrangements. “I hear from Brooke that you and my receptionist Sheila McKay had a meeting this week.”

Jordan tensed, unwilling to go another ten rounds with Parker at a family shindig. “Believe it or not, Emilio and I were just discussing the need to sit down and have a talk with you about Sheila.” Aka the witch. He tried not to harbor such extreme ill will against a woman, but in Sheila’s case, he would make an exception. “I thought Brooke would wait until after the wedding to tell you—to reduce chances of an uproar at the big event.”

Parker tipped back his glass before answering, the sound of the tide tugging at the shore mingling with tunes from the band inside. “Brooke was pretty fired up when she talked to me. She wanted to make sure I knew so I could fire Sheila—pronto.”