Three Brides, No Groom

Again and again, Roger had told her how much he loved her, how she would be the perfect wife for him. His insistence caused her to wonder if he was mouthing his mother’s sentiments, not his own. A man who truly loved her wouldn’t step into a closet with Didi Wilson. But at the same time, Roger was full of regret. Despite her own pain, she could sense his. He was genuinely sorry. She wanted, needed, to believe that.

One thing he’d said rang true. Didi had never made a secret of how attractive she found Roger. Nor had she bothered to disguise her dislike for Gretchen. It was probably that dislike that had prompted Didi to confront her.

Didi’s neck had been covered with hickeys so livid that no amount of makeup could fully hide them. She’d boldly walked up to Gretchen, looked her in the eyes, smiled and then casually asked her if she knew what Roger had been doing the night before. At Gretchen’s stunned silence, Didi had crudely asked Gretchen if she thought she was woman enough to satisfy Roger’s healthy sexual appetite. The question insinuated that she wasn’t and never would be.

The roar of an engine shattered the peace. Gretchen glanced up to see Josh Morrow speed across the campus parking lot on his Harley, a plume of dark exhaust in his wake. He’d been cited by campus security a dozen times, she’d heard, for driving above the speed limit, but it hadn’t fazed him.

Josh was a loner, a known troublemaker, a rebel. She’d spoken to him once months earlier, and Roger had been furious with her. In the weeks since, she’d avoided Josh, but that hadn’t stopped her from noticing him. He stood apart from everyone, watching, studying. The outsider, looking in. He hadn’t sought her out again, and she was grateful. She supposed it was natural to feel a certain attraction toward Josh. She suspected a lot of the women at Queen Anne did. Maybe it was the black leather and the motorcycle, the sense that the love of a good woman would tame him.

Now her gaze must have lingered on him a second longer than was prudent, for he eased his huge bike to a stop, placed his feet on the road to maintain his balance and stared at her. After what seemed an eternity, he revved the engine, then roared over the cement curb and onto the narrow walkway, directly toward her.

Gretchen stood, her heart in her throat. The last thing she wanted was company.

He pulled to a stop right in front of her. Lifting the helmet from his head, he studied her for a moment and then asked with surprising gentleness, “Gretchen, what happened?”

She stiffened, shocked that he had read her so easily. “Nothing.”

His smile was decidedly off center. “You should never lie, not when you do such a poor job of it.”

She lowered her gaze and rubbed her palms together. “It’s something I’d rather not discuss.”

He stepped off the Harley and lowered the kickstand. “Fair enough.”

His size was intimidating. He was at least six-two, maybe even six-three, almost dwarfing her five foot eight. She crossed her arms over her chest, wondering at his intentions. As if he didn’t have a care in the world, he leaned over the fountain, scooped up a handful of water and drenched his face.

He glanced toward her and chuckled, the sound low and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

“I’m not worried,” she lied.

His soft snicker told her she hadn’t convinced him. “I don’t sacrifice virgins, either.”

“I suggest you don’t start now. I’d crawl off the altar.”

He laughed, but this time the sound was rich and deep. Ignoring her, he turned his face toward the sky, and his features glistened as the water dripped from his face. “Where’s lover boy this afternoon?” he asked.

His question caught her off guard. From his tone, it was clear that Josh knew about Roger and Didi. How many others did? Her face filled with a rush of hot embarrassed color.

“Who told you?” she asked, her voice low and trembling despite her effort to remain cool and calm. Between Didi and Roger’s so-called friends, the news must be everywhere by now.

“Is it important?” he asked. His words were soft, quiet, as if he feared saying them would increase her pain.

“No, I guess it isn’t.” Some students thought of Gretchen as privileged. While it was true her family had considerable wealth, when serving as the student-body president she’d crossed swords with any number who willingly tossed her background in her face. Her hard work as a communicator and volunteer, and her fervor for honesty and justice, often won them over. Until recently she preferred to think of her friends as many and her enemies as few. Now she wasn’t so sure.

Josh’s gaze turned narrow and assessing, which increased her embarrassment tenfold. She inhaled a quivering breath.

“Roger’s a first-class fool,” Josh said at last. “He deserves to have his teeth kicked in.”

While in theory she agreed with him—she wanted to see Roger suffer for what he’d done—her sensibilities didn’t lean toward violence. Roger had allowed the blame to ricochet from Didi to Gretchen and then back to Didi. Gretchen wanted to scream and demand that Roger accept responsibility for his own actions. To own up to what he’d done, instead of listing excuses meant to absolve him of any guilt.

“Gretchen!”

As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Roger was striding across the lawn toward the fountain. “What the hell are you doing here, Morrow?” he asked, arriving breathless, his chest heaving.

When Josh didn’t immediately answer, Roger faced Gretchen. “Is he pestering you?”

“Of course not,” she replied, angered by both the question and the insinuation.

“I told you to stay away from Gretchen,” Roger snarled at Josh. As though she needed his protection, he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm.

“I suggest you let go of her,” Josh said, his voice deceptively calm.

Roger ignored him. “Come on, Gretchen, let’s get out of here.”

She jerked her arm free of his grasp and met his look squarely. “I haven’t finished thinking about you and me yet.”

Anger flared in Roger’s dark eyes. “What’s Morrow doing here?”

“What do you care?” Josh asked, his words a challenge.

Roger glared at Josh and seemed to be weighing the odds of engaging in a fistfight, then decided against it. Wisely, she thought.

“Gretchen, I think you’d better come with me,” he said, calmer this time.

“I’m not ready to leave yet.” She wasn’t looking to defy Roger, but she needed time to deal with a multitude of pressing questions. Decisions had to be made, the consequences of which she would have to live with for the rest of her life.

Again Roger’s eyes flared with anger.

“You heard the lady,” Josh inserted smoothly, with that cocky grin of his.

Gretchen whirled on him. “I can do my own talking, thank you.”

“Fine.” Josh raised his right hand in a mocking gesture of peace.

Tight-lipped, Roger said, “Either you get out of here, Morrow, or I’m calling security. Your kind isn’t welcome around here. Why don’t you go visit your daddy in prison? Have a good look around, since that’s where you’re headed yourself.”

Josh looked unconcerned, which only served to anger Roger more. But Gretchen noticed the vein in Josh’s temple throb and knew Roger’s words had affected him.

“You should have been expelled long ago,” Roger added, then doubled up his fist and took a wild swing at Josh, who didn’t so much as blink when the punch went wide.

“Maybe Dean Williams is looking for a valid excuse to be rid of me,” Josh suggested casually. “What he really needs is a charge that’ll stick. How about assault?” As he spoke, his fist shot out and exploded against Roger’s nose.

Stunned, Roger stumbled backward. His hand flew to his face, and blood oozed between his fingers. “I’m bleeding!” he cried in horror. “Now you’ve done it, Morrow,” he threatened. “You’re finished at this school. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I can’t tell you how worried I am.” Josh reached for his helmet and climbed aboard his motorcycle. He started the engine and then, as though in afterthought, he turned and looked at Gretchen. His eyes locked with hers as he slowly extended his arm to her.

She hesitated, unsure what to do.

“Go with him and the engagement is off,” Roger threatened.