Chapter Eight

“I'm sorry about yesterday.”

“Don't be.” Eden pushed her eggs around her plate in the hotel's restaurant. Brad's apology wasn't the one she wanted to hear. She propped her chin in her hand and watched him cut another small square of ham.

It was the same size as the last ten and placed in exactly the middle of his tongue. He finished his twenty chews, swallowed, and sipped his orange juice to finish the cycle. “We did get the details finalized,” he said, calculating another square of meat with his knife before returning his gaze to the newspaper next to his plate. “They're scheduled to sign the papers today. Of course, Mr. McMillian expects me to be there, but don't worry, I should be back in plenty of time for the ceremony.” He flipped the page before repeating the annoying cycle.

Eden wasn't even sure if he looked at her once during the half hour they'd sat across from each other. For some reason this morning, his disinterest irked her. The same way his planned absence today hit a nerve. This was their wedding day, after all. No, she didn't expect romantic gestures or anything from Brad, but was it too much to ask for a little time and occasional eye contact? Pushing up her glasses, she rubbed her own tired eyes, dry and sore from lack of sleep last night.

Last night.

She forced herself not to groan aloud and finally laid her unused fork to rest. The same way she had with Shane and his family.

It didn't matter how much fun she had there or the intimate way his parents acted, or the inability to get the haunting imprint of Shane's hand from the small of her back. None of that mattered because she'd already wisely arranged her own marriage and her own life.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the table. She'd been a fool to let some cowboy screw with her head. Yet, she couldn't help the disappointment she felt at the memories of last night...or the guilt. She shouldn't have let him kiss her—or worse, kissed back.

“What did you and Shane do yesterday?”

Eden choked back her sip of orange juice. “P-pardon me?”

“I asked what you and Shane did yesterday.”

“He, uh, took me uh, shopping…then back to, um, his parent's house.”

“His parent's house?” He paused his knife over his plate for a moment before resuming the cycle. “Oh, right, I forgot. It was Marilyn's birthday yesterday.”

Eden simply nodded and hid her guilt behind a napkin. But did she really have a reason to feel guilty? In truth, Shane was the one who set her up. The attentiveness, the teasing, making her fall for his family and hi—no, it was his fault...and unforgivable.

“Sorry you had to go through that.”

“Through what?” Eden coughed behind her napkin. She really needed to keep her mind in the present.

“The Gallagher’s. They're a little much, don't you think?”

At his condescending tone, she cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

Brad absently flipped the page of the newspaper and flicked up his gaze long enough to send her a slick ‘you-know-what-I-mean grin.’ “You saw them. They're…touchy-feely, talkative, loud, and the kids run around like wild animals.”

“I rather liked them,” Eden defended. “They were welcoming and warm and even included me in their hockey game.”

Brad shuddered. “Don't worry. I won't make you go back there.” He snapped out the newspaper and turned his focus on a business article.

After how Marilyn had raved on about him, Eden was affronted at the way he dismissed the Gallaghers so readily.

Not that it was her place to care…

Eden laid the cloth napkin across her lap, brushing out the wrinkles in short efficient strokes. “Do you want to do something this morning, before your meeting?” she finally suggested.

Though his chin tilted toward her, Brad's gaze remained on the newsprint. “What did you have in mind?”

“I don't know.” Her thoughts went to the idea of a bit of stress release. She picked up her glass, swirling the ice in clinking circles. “We could go for a walk or maybe skating at Rockefeller Center?”

A pah-shaw type sound fluttered the paper. “I don't think so. Besides, I should head over to McMillian's office soon. Get there early in case anything comes up.”

“Right. Of course.” Disappointment weighed on her. Eden sunk back in her chair. “I have some work I should be doing, too,” she muttered.

Her statement was true. She should. Problem was, she had no desire whatsoever to open her briefcase. She rubbed the back of her scalp. The French twist seemed too tight this morning. Kind of like her nerves—proven by her startled jump at her cell phone's chiming ring.

With a hand keeping her heart from speeding out of her chest, Eden flipped open the phone and grinned at the off-key singing in her ear.

“Going to the chapel and we're gonna get ma-a-a-aried.”

“Leah! Where are you?” For the first time since Shane dropped her off last night, her spirits rose.

“Just walked into the lobby.”

****

“Okay, enough.”

Eden finished attaching the small, veiled, pillbox hat. “I don't know what you mean,” she replied, ignoring her friend's shrewd, hand-on-hips posture through the mirror's reflection.

“This is supposed to be your wedding day yet—” Leah's voice rose along with her hands “—you’re acting as if it was just another business meeting.”

She wasn't far off. After breakfast, the three sat down to sign the paperwork, and Brad actually used the word 'merger' in reference to the ceremony.

“It's Valentine's Day,” her friend continued. “You're getting married on the most romantic day of the year. Show a little giddiness, a blush, something!”

“This has nothing to do with romance and you know it.”

Leah sunk back onto the bathroom counter. “I know. I only wish you did.”

Eden swiped at an invisible speck on the jacket of her white dress suit. “You promised to support me.”

“I know, I know. Brad is a very respectable man. He's prominent, has a healthy income, and will provide a long-term, stable environment.”

“Very funny,” she drawled at Leah's word-for-word recital of her own analysis of the merger. Eden winced—Marriage, I meant marriage.

“You're probably right,” Leah granted. She leaned into the mirror, touching up her mascara. “Knowing what you're in for is probably a lot better than falling into the love trap like I do every month. Not to mention your future is secure. Can't ask for more than that.”

“No. You can't.” Except maybe a warm hand on the small of your back, a backyard hockey game every once in a while, and a passionate kiss that leaves your body vibrating all night long. As quickly as they came, she shook the thoughts from her head. But they did remind her of something important.

Attempting to erase the tightness of her forehead, she forced a smile as she made a quick trip into the bedroom and returned to present the silver box to her Maid of Honor. “This is for you.”

Leah tore into the gift and gasped at the gold, belt-like bracelet. “It's gorgeous!”

She smiled at her friend’s squeal of delight. “Shane picked it out.” The words drifted out before she realized.

“Shane?”

Twisting her lips at her inadvertent slip, Eden cleared her throat and grabbed up her mascara. “Brad's friend. He kept me company while Brad was at his meeting.”

“Well, this Shane's got great taste.”

The reflection’s lips tilted in the mirror. “He said the same thing about you.”

Leah's face glowed with interest. “He single?”

Eden hesitated then berated herself for the twitch of jealously that twisted her stomach. “Yes. He's single.” She was proud of how steady the words came out. I can do this. It should only hurt if she cared…and she didn’t.

Eden turned back to the mirror, leaned forward, and wiped the corner of her eye where the contact burned. She straightened, contemplated her hair, and proceeded to pull out the pins holding on the hat. “Shane’s handsome and funny and has a great family,” she absently added. Brushing out her hair, she let it fall free over her shoulders, pulled back a small piece on each side and pinned them atop her head before replacing the elegant cap. A smile touched her lips in the mirror as she continued, “He's good with kids too. You should've seen him with his nieces and nephews last night. And he’s a great skater, but leaves his left side open when playing goalie.” Eden puzzled at her reflection in the mirror. Something still wasn't right. Shedding the suit jacket, she nodded in satisfaction at the fitted, sleeveless dress without the strict coat. “Yes. That's better—what?”

In the mirror, Leah's hand was frozen halfway to her lips where a huge grin flashed at Eden. “Nothing.” The smile didn't leave her face even as she finished applying her lipstick. “I just like the new look…and sudden glow in your cheeks. More Vogue than Accountants Weekly…totally suits you. About time.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Irritation fueling her movements, Eden snatched her clutch purse off the vanity. “Come on. I don't want to be late.” She caught a glimpse of herself in the decorative mirror next to the door. With her hair down and dress flowing unrestricted by the jacket, she did look different—and sure enough, the tips of her cheeks did glow with an apple blush.

Great. An apple—just like Shane had accused her of being.

She stared into sad eyes no elegant dressings could hide. Well, if I am an apple, then I’m one of those bruised and battered ones kicked beneath the tree.