Five minutes. Marissa Clarke knew she couldn’t have stepped away from the reception hall any longer than that. She scanned the room, which was draped in so much white and bright pink tulle it should be illegal. The number of wedding guests shuffling around the dance floor had dwindled to less than twenty, making it impossible not to notice her roommate had disappeared. All night she’d purposely kept an eye on Christa, who’d drunk too much champagne and had an old college boyfriend hanging on her.
She’d been dutiful for the last two days, ensuring last night’s rehearsal dinner and today’s wedding ran smoothly, if not perfectly. Maid of honor was a full-time job. So of course her one trip to the bathroom in hours resulted in a missing Christa and the not-so-suspicious absence of her former flame as well.
God, she hated weddings. She hadn’t been to a single one since her own had imploded in the most mortifying way possible. Tanya was the only person she’d brave this for. Especially since so many of the guests tonight were their college friends who had witnessed her own catastrophe. The entire weekend she’d been sharply aware of how many of them whispered about her, still wondered what she had done to be so spectacularly jilted.
Marissa sank into a chair at a nearby table and rested her chin on her hands. She was so emotionally exhausted from feeling scrutinized by everyone that she wanted nothing more than to go to her room, close the door, and let it all go. But she knew exactly what she’d fine if she went upstairs now. The world’s rudest roommate and her dolt of an ex getting it on, in her room. She couldn’t decide whether to go break it up or let it play out. But then, if she let them have at it she’d have to sleep in a room—and a bed—that smelled like sex. She shuddered at the thought.
She should have said no when Christa begged to room with her. After all, she’d booked a single room at the swish central Oregon resort on purpose. But she’d agreed out of kindness, the way she always did. “No” was in her vocabulary, but it didn’t get used very often. Especially when it came to her friends.
Tanya had wanted their entire sorority pledge class at her wedding. They’d spent hours hunting down addresses to invite everyone for the mini-reunion. So when flighty Christa RSVP’d at the last minute and there’d been no room at the inn, Marissa had offered to share hers so her best friend could have her wedding-day wish.
She was good at taking care of things. Making a list and checking it thrice, that’s what made her an excellent event coordinator, and apparently a good friend for free-spirited artists to have. Though stealing away to her room for sex was so far out of bounds she could hardly believe it.
Maybe Jerry had only dragged Christa to the men’s room for a quickie. In college Christa had called him the two-pump chump, so unless his prowess had improved in the last few years, they could reappear any minute now.
“Do you know where they went?” Scott Zimmermann’s deep baritone sounded behind her. His voice had always seemed so sexy, even when she had no business thinking of him that way.
“They gave you the slip too? We should have coordinated a babysitting schedule.” She turned in her chair and smiled, the sight of him hitting her with a familiar jolt of attraction. He still had a boy-next-door-meets-action-hero kind of thing going on. Always up to something and as easy on the eyes as he was to talk to. She’d witnessed too many women get lost in his mossy green eyes and thick eyelashes. Plenty had baited their hook, but none ever caught him.
Scott sank into the chair beside her and shook his head. “I’ve wanted to go home ever since Matt and Tanya left. I should have dragged Jerry out of here by the ear.”
She nodded, wishing she had her own place to escape to. But Portland was hours away, and she had a post-wedding brunch to attend tomorrow before her maid of honor duties were done. “I should have put Christa in a chastity belt before the wedding,” she muttered. “She practically swooned when she spotted Jerry.” She cut a glance to Scott. “Don’t tell me, he forgot to book a room and that’s how you got saddled with him.”
Oh, that smile should be outlawed. “I take it that’s how you got Christa?”
“Guilty. And there’s only a king-sized bed in the room.” Her shudder was not at all exaggerated. She let him connect the dots. His cringe said he followed it with no problem.
“Should we dance while we’re waiting for their walk of shame?” It was hard to miss his hopeful look. He’d asked last night after the rehearsal dinner and twice today, but she’d been too focused on ironing out wedding details the resort coordinator was not trained to handle. She’d much rather organize an event than make idle conversation with people she didn’t know anymore. If she ever did.
“I’m too spent to do anything but sleep. I need the energy to do it all again tomorrow.” Marissa checked the bangle watch on her wrist and sighed. “I’d hoped they were doing the deed in the bathroom. But now I’m sure they’re in our room. No, my room. I’m going to have to evict him and bother housekeeping for fresh sheets.”
“I’ll go with you.” He stood so tall and solid, his athletic body gift wrapped in a tuxedo. Not a rented one either, she recalled from the wedding planning. She’d wondered why he had a tux hanging in his closet ever since.
“You don’t have to.” She pretended not to see his hand as she snagged her clutch from the deserted table and stood. She didn’t want to know if his touch would still vibrate through her followed by a sharp hook of guilt. She’d put Scott deep into the friend zone a long time ago, and now was not the time to throw him a pass. “I’ll send Jerry down. Probably with a swift kick to his sorry butt.”
His gaze lingered on her face a beat too long, the corners of his eyes crinkling as that I-know-your-secrets smile spread across his face. His chuckle sent a warm ripple of desire down her spine. “I want tickets to that show.”
Of course he did. She didn’t bother to convince him she could handle it. The sooner she got to her room and could shut the world out, the better. They walked to the elevator, her head level with his shoulder. Most of the guys she dated were shorter than her, and her strappy sandals had a three-inch heel. She’d forgotten what it felt like to stand tall and still feel delicate, feminine.
“Have you grown since college?” she asked, trying to make conversation. She pushed the button for her floor and stepped back, much too close to him. He didn’t move away, and neither did she, though her heartbeat took off.
He shrugged and glanced down at her. “I hope not. There’s an upper limit to height where it goes from being tall to circus freak. You know, like the half of the basketball team that started.”
She gave a silent laugh, imagining all those giants with rainbow wigs and red bulb noses. Next time one of them gave her a snide comment she’d imagine they were clowns. As the elevator rose, she flashed through memories of those basketball team parties back in college. Chris would abandon her to party with his entourage, leaving her alone and so out of place. But Scott had always taken the time to talk to her, to listen. He’d been the one to suggest she join a sorority, gaining an instant sisterhood and support system. She wouldn’t have survived the aftermath of her non-wedding disaster without them.
He bumped her shoulder and raised his brows. “We should have brought a pitcher of ice water. Sneak in there and cool them both right off.”
She shook her head, an amused puff slipping out. “It might not work with these horndogs.” She shot him an optimistic look. “Are you taking them both back to your place?” The bachelor party at Scott’s cabin had been all any of the groomsmen could talk about.
“Probably.” His grimace was filled with disgust. “I feel like a parent, dragging my kid home from a rave.” Sympathy bloomed next to relief in her chest. If Christa stayed with Jerry, there was half a chance she’d actually get some sleep tonight—after she called housekeeping. But that ray of hope quickly darkened when they approached her room.
“What the actual hell?”
Next to the door sat a black paisley suitcase. Her suitcase. No. Just no. If Christa thought she could kick her out of her own hotel room, she had best think again. Outside. In the cold.
She jammed the keycard into the lock, turning the handle the second the lock clicked. She barged forward, but the door stopped dead an instant later. She glanced at the security lock and her frustration boiled over.
“Damn it, Christa!” she yelled inside, almost gagging on the waft of sweat and sex.
Inside the dark room came a thump, followed by whispers and rustling. Christa had the nerve to smile when she put her face to the three-inch gap, clutching a bedsheet against her chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Marissa asked her used-to-be friend.
“We’re getting back together.” The blonde batted her fake eyelashes and beamed with excitement.
“Wait, you’re what?” Holy hell, the girl had learned nothing in college. She lowered her voice, forcing a calm tone. “Have you forgotten how he dumped you the week before he graduated and then backpacked through Europe instead of getting a job?”
“We’ve both grown up, and he’s a basketball coach for underprivileged kids now.” Her indignant glare communicated exactly what she thought of Marissa’s opinion. “We’re going to give it another shot. Be happy for me.”
Marissa shook her head and surrendered that battle, but not the war. “Fantastic. I’m thrilled for you both. Now will you please take your reunion out of my hotel room?”
“About that . . .”
“I don’t know why my suitcase is out here, but I’m not sleeping in a hotel lobby so you can get laid. It’s my room. I booked it. I’m paying for it.”
Jerry’s head appeared atop Christa’s. He cleared his throat. “I’ll pay for the room.”
“No, you won’t, because you’re not staying. You need to get out, now.” She grabbed the handle of her suitcase. “And take Christa with you.”
“I would, except I’m bunking at Scott’s place and he’s—Oh hi, buddy.” The interloper had the nerve to keep the grin on his face as he looked over her shoulder.
She snapped her fingers to keep both trespassers on topic. “No one wants to host your little rendezvous. One of you should have bothered to get a room before you needed to, you know, get a room.”
“It’s not that.” Christa put on her most dazzling smile, the one she saved for modeling shoots and manipulation. “We’d like some privacy to reconnect. You understand.”
“The only thing I understand is that I booked this hotel room, not you.” Awareness shivered up her spine, the scent of soap and cedar wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn’t need to turn to know Scott had stepped closer, way inside her personal bubble.
Christa mouthed the word please. “You could take Jerry’s room up at Scott’s. You’ll have your own room instead of having to share a bed with me. And Wi-Fi. I know you’re annoyed about the Internet here.”
“Help me out,” Jerry implored his friend.
“You’re welcome to stay with me, Marissa.” Scott’s deep timbre vibrated through her again. “The guest room has a private bath, and it’s quiet. Which I doubt either of these two will be.”
Christa nodded like a bobble head. “See? Your own bathroom. I won’t be there to mess up where you put everything.”
Marissa bit the inside of her cheek and her pulse kicked up. She barely restrained urge to kick in the door, call security, and have their naked asses dragged from the hotel. But that would be the talk of brunch tomorrow, instead of everyone telling Tanya how much they’d enjoyed the wedding. This maid of honor gig just didn’t end.
“I’ll drag them back to my place if you want,” Scott offered. “Though my rules stand for you two—I don’t want to hear it, see it, or smell it.”
A punch of disgust turned her stomach. When he put it that way, Marissa really didn’t want to go back in that hotel room where they’d done who knows what, who knows where. She’d have to have housekeeping disinfect the place, and pack up Christa’s things, and she really didn’t want to be “on” anymore. She had every right to that room, but this whole mess would go away if she just stayed at Scott’s. After all it was just one night. She’d known Scott since college; she’d be safe with him. Even if he did remind her of complete and utter humiliation.
“That’s your coat?” Marissa’s blue paisley trench coat made her eyes sparkle like sapphires, but it didn’t stand a chance against the November windchill of central Oregon. Scott offered her his sheepskin jacket he’d picked up from the coat check. “Take mine. I have a spare in the truck.”
“I’ll be fine.” Marissa cinched the belt, which emphasized her killer curves and sucker punched him with lust. After all these years, he ought to be immune to it.
“I take it you don’t want to change your shoes either.” Her bare feet were strapped into a pair of silver heels. They looked great inside, but her pretty toes would be as pink as her pedicure before they made it to his rig.
She shook her head, a deep auburn curl escaping the updo she and all the rest of the bridesmaids wore with their strapless pink dresses. Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she secured her hair. She gave him a smile, her lips slick and glossy. Ripe and kissable. Too bad she didn’t want them anywhere near his.
He slid on his jacket, hating that he must look like some country bumpkin. Marissa Clarke was always perfectly put together, polished, and unattainable. Though the thing that had held him back in college wasn’t a factor anymore.
He wished it was her choice to go home with him, beginning their own wild night weddings were so famous for. And maybe in the morning he could explain about the past, and they could talk, and the affair would continue until he stopped using her as a yardstick other women never quite measured up to.
“We’re being really good friends.” She gave him a half smile. “I hope those jerks appreciate us.”
“Those two? They survive in life because of people like us.” He decided against lecturing her about the cold of the Cascades at night. She’d figure it out as soon as they were out the door. “You like it, though.”
“What?”
“Taking care of everyone. You like helping people, looking out for them.” He’d always admired that about her, she was a one-woman rescue squad. Nothing went wrong on Marissa’s watch.
“It’s easier to take care of things in advance than clean up the mess later.” She shoved her hands in her pockets and followed him through the lobby of the hotel. “Besides, I’d do anything for Tanya, I don’t know what would’ve happened if she hadn’t helped me up after the way Chris left.”
Silence pushed between them like a wall. There it was, the eight-hundred-pound gorilla that had severed their friendship. He might have let it in, but she’d chained the thing to the floor.
She stared at the ground like she needed to watch her step. He didn’t blame her a bit. Awkwardness was tricky to maneuver around. He’d wanted to make it right all weekend, but he could never get her alone.
At the entrance of the hotel he turned and placed a hand on her arm. That electric current that always seemed to be in the air when they were together amped up. “Wait here, I’ll bring the SUV around.”
“Thank you.” Her voice softened as she spoke. “I’m fine to walk, but I’ve been in these heels since breakfast. However I don’t want you to think of me as a houseguest, more like an old friend spending a few horizontal hours at your place.”
“I don’t know about that.” Marissa, horizontal, at his place. Damn. He wouldn’t get any sleep tonight.
“Just imagine I’m Jerry then.” She wrinkled her nose, making the most adorable disgusted face he’d ever seen. “No, don’t do that. I just did and now my brain needs bleach.”
“Thanks for the save. Wait here.” He paced his steps as he hiked through the parking lot, the frigid air biting at his face. He smelled snow. Not on the ground, but the raw air held the dry blend of ice and anticipation. The forecast called for rain, but he’d bet his skis the storm brought powder.
He hit the remote start on his rig, then unlocked the doors. Making it through this night was going to be a lesson in restraint. Marissa looked even more beautiful than before, smelled like summer jasmine fields, and still had that redhead temper when pushed too far. Her eyes flashed, her tongue sharpened, and her quick mind ran circles around whoever had pissed her off. He didn’t want her upset, but he loved watching her right the world when it tilted.
He set her case in the back and snagged the down jacket he’d brought for Jerry. The kid knew how to play basketball, but that was about all his brain was good for. He’d offered his spare bedroom to all the guys, but Jerry was the only one who hadn’t realized an open bar meant you’d want a place to crash without driving. Thank goodness no one else had wanted to deal with the unmarked roads leading to his place in the dark.
As he circled the parking lot he caught sight of her standing outside. Her breath came out in white puffs that glowed in the light from the streetlamps. He pulled up beside her and put the rig in park so he could circle around and get her door. Good thing too, since her bright red hands couldn’t seem to manage it. She all but jumped in the car, rubbing her arms against the cold.
Between the seat warmer and the heater, she’d warm up fast. He climbed in and handed her the coat. She took it without protest and pulled it on backward.
“Thank you.” Her teeth chattered and concern hardened in his stomach.
“Why didn’t you wait for me before you came outside?” He adjusted the heater to blow on her feet and cranked it up.
“It wasn’t nearly this cold yesterday.” She brought the jacket higher, covering half her face.
“The temperature bottoms out at night. It can be sunny during the day and then a wind comes down off the Cascades and we’re knee deep in snow by morning.” There was a reason she waited in the freezing air. He wanted to call her on it, but he wasn’t sure he had a right to. So he drove, out of the resort and onto the highway.
“It’s not going to snow, is it?” Her voice shook, whether from cold or concern, he didn’t know.
He shrugged and turned onto the county road. “November is a bit early in the year for it, but it might.”
She slumped in her seat. “Hopefully the snow stays away until I head back home tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying for the group hike in the afternoon?” Since Veterans Day fell on a Monday this year, and most of the guests were spending the long weekend at the resort, he’d helped arrange a few tours.
“Do I look like a hiker?”
He couldn’t help the chuckle. She had him there. “There’s also a brew bus and a group going to the spa.”
“I’m signed up for the spa, but I’m heading home after. I had to shift my schedule at work to come here, and I don’t want to fall behind.”
“You have to work on the holiday?” He was paying the employees at Adventure Bound double time because sports equipment rentals and guided tours were more popular on long weekends.
“No, but I do have work to do.” She pressed her hands to her face. Even in the dim light from the dash he could tell her cheeks and nose were still red. “My feet are so cold they ache.”
He couldn’t help the smile, or ignore the way the heater blasted her sweet jasmine scent throughout his SUV. “That’s actually a good sign. It means they’re warming back up.”
“Where’s this cabin of yours?”
“Not far.”
“It’s heated, right?”
“It should be.”
She leaned forward and peered into the darkness, lit only by his headlights. “Are we lost?”
“I know exactly where I am.” He steered along the steep forest road as it wound up the mountain. He could make it home blindfolded, and since clouds had moved in to cover the moon and block out the stars, he almost was. The level of darkness out here couldn’t be found in a light-polluted city.
“I didn’t realize your cabin was so remote.” A fine strand of hysteria hovered around the edge of her voice.
“I have neighbors, they’re just a couple miles away.” He wanted to reassure her, so he reached out and rested his hand on her thigh. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I know you’re afraid of the dark, but—”
“I’m not afraid of anything anymore.” She sat up straight and pulled closer to the door, her body tensing to hold her impeccable posture. “Once you’ve hit bottom there’s really nothing more to be scared of.”
Her words sliced through him. He pulled his hand back, clenching his fist. As if what happened were somehow his fault, instead of something he’d witnessed. But he hadn’t been innocent in it either. And for that, she’d avoided him at every turn.
“Look, Marissa. I know we haven’t talked much after . . .” He stopped himself before saying your wedding. Barely.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” She spoke in clipped tones, every word precise and deliberate. “I’ve been going nonstop for the last three days. Digging up ancient history is a waste of time. I’m too tired right now to get into it.” The down coat rustled as she shifted, angling her body toward the passenger door.
Thinking of that day made him uneasy, so he couldn’t even imagine how hard it must be for her. “We need to talk about it so we can move past it. We were friends before.”
“You’re his friend.” She shot the words at him like venom.
There it was, the emotion she hid behind her brick wall of calm, cool, and collected. She took most everything in stride, focusing on the solution rather than the problem. Some would swear she was completely unflappable. But he’d seen her vulnerability and anger crack the walls she put up to protect herself.
“I haven’t spoken to him since.”
She shivered, and he knew it had nothing to do with the cold.
“You were just in Matt’s wedding, so if you can get past it with the rest of the team, then I’d like to believe we can move past it too.” He hoped. Because the way she’d avoided him the last two days had been torture. Every time he got near her she slipped away. He wished things had ended differently, but he never could figure out how to make that happen.
“Tanya is my best friend. I wouldn’t miss her day for the world. And Matt made Chris tell the truth.”
He scrunched his brow. That wasn’t what went down, but he wouldn’t throw Matt under the bus. “I can tell you that whole story, if you ever want to hear it.”
“I really don’t.” He wished he knew if it were exhaustion or sadness straining her voice.
“You dodged a bullet that day. You know that, right?” he asked.
“Back then it felt like I’d been hit by one.” The raw emotion in her tone had him gripping the steering wheel.
It took everything in him not to reach for her, try to soothe away the hurt. Though it stung that she was still so caught up on Chris Brooks. The guy was an asshole of epic proportions. He thought being good at basketball meant he was above honesty, beyond common decency. The world had always shifted to accommodate him, his status allowing him to behave badly without repercussions.
Scott had gotten caught up in it for a time. He’d been a walk-on with the basketball team, while Chris was the star. His face on billboards in town, his profile in sports magazines. He had everything, including the most amazing girlfriend.
He shook his head and took the dirt road leading to the cabin. Whether Marissa knew it or not, Chris backing out of their wedding was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Even if it had been only hours before the ceremony. It beat the hell out of a lifetime of dealing with his shit.
The connection between Marissa and Chris had baffled him since the day he’d met her. Her first day on campus, when he’d wondered how the hell that prick had landed a girl like her. Proximity was the only answer that even halfway made sense. They’d grown up in the same little fishing town, and Chris had locked in on her before she was even legal. The guy was an asshole, but he wasn’t stupid.
She turned in her seat to face him and let out a long breath. “Sorry I snapped. You’re being nice and saving me from staying up all night thinking of creative ways to make Christa disappear.”
“I’ve heard magicians are pretty good at that.”
“They’re all smoke and mirrors and the person always comes back with a flourish. I’m thinking wizard.”
“That’s a smarter choice. You always were freaky smart.” He didn’t want to upset her, but he didn’t want to play this game of setting off a bomb, then defusing it over and over.
“I had to keep up.” She rested her head against the back of the seat.
“Before you head home to Portland, I do want to talk about what happened back then. We’re bound to run into each other again, either through Matt and Tanya or other friends we have in common. I don’t want it to be uncomfortable.” Or have to watch her avoid him like he’d been the one to betray her. He understood guilt by association, but surely the statute of limitations had run out by now.
“Me either.” She pulled his jacket tighter around herself.
“I want us to be friends again.” Hell, he wanted to be more than friends. “And I don’t think we can be unless we talk about that day.”
“We’re still friendly. Our lives are just in different places now.”
“Right, we’re friends. So I can call you the next time I’m in Portland?”
“That’s not—”
“You’ve avoided me all weekend. Every time I tried to talk to you, you rushed off somewhere else.” He rubbed at the tension at the back of his neck. He really should have taken her up on her let’s-not-talk-about-it offer.
“That wasn’t about you.”
“It felt like it was about me.”
She pulled her hands from the jacket and rubbed her face. “I wanted Tanya’s wedding to be perfect. Focusing on that kept me too busy to worry about the whispers, side glances, pitying looks. Eleven people still managed to ask me about Chris. Do we still keep in touch, do I follow his career—and I couldn’t call them out on being rude, couldn’t hit them back with whatever skeleton I know they keep in their closet. I had to take it, and smile. It was absolutely exhausting.”
“If I had known, I would have done something.”
She released the saddest huff of a laugh he’d ever heard. “Because you’re so good at that.”
His blood went cold as it pumped through his veins. Not being honest with her was his biggest regret.
“Sorry, you didn’t deserve that.” She let out a long, audible breath. “It’s not a big deal. I’m over it, I am. I’m just exhausted and college plus weddings don’t bring back good memories for me. Being around his friends is the last thing I want to do.”
“I was your friend too.” She was book smart, but when it came to her ex, she’d been completely blinded by love.
“I used to think so.”
That stung, but he’d earned it. He hadn’t protected her the way a friend should. “I should have told you about what Chris did when he was out of town. I know that.”
“Thank you.” Her tight, quiet voice wrapped around his heart and squeezed.
“I’d like to be friends again. I want to be able to call you when I’m in the city, or get together when you’re here visiting Tanya.”
“I’m not going to promise anything at two in the morning. Besides, I don’t want to force something. We don’t have as much in common anymore.”
He pulled up to the house, the porch lights casting a welcoming glow. He threw the SUV in park and turned to watch her stare up at the two-story cabin. His great-grandfather had built the place in the twenties. Though he’d grown up in the city, he’d always felt most at home here.
“Marissa, I’m going to earn your trust back, and we’re going to move on from this.”
She turned and gave him a half smile. If only he’d been able to move on from his feelings for her.