Page 17 of Best Laid Plans

The car’s exhaust roared as they took off and the rear window was covered in “just married” signs written in toothpaste, which only served to prove how old fashioned this town really was.

Will, however, was watching Lucy. She stood in the shadows at the back of the throng, clutching the wedding bouquet in one hand while she used the other hand to swipe at her tears.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LUCY wished the ground would open up and swallow her. It was bad enough that everyone knew the bride had deliberately thrown the bouquet to her. To cry about it was beyond pathetic, but to do so in front of Will Carruthers was more embarrassing than she could bear.

Turning her back on him, she gave one final swipe and an unladylike sniff and she willed eyes to stay dry. It wasn’t a moment too soon.

Will’s voice sounded close behind her. ‘We can leave whenever you like,’ he said.

She drew a deep slow breath and turned to him with a smile on her face. Any number of people would have given her a lift, but she was determined to show Will that that his comments about the two of them being a pair of old loners had not upset her.

‘Could you give me just a moment?’ she said. ‘I’d like to say goodbye to a few people.’

‘By all means. I’ve said my farewells. Let me know when you’re ready.’

‘I shouldn’t be long, unless Mrs. Carey needs my help with anything else. Will I meet you at the truck?’

‘Sure.’

It was crazy the way her stomach tightened as she crossed the road to Will’s parked truck. Crazier still the way her heartthrashed when she saw his tall figure waiting in the shadows beside the vehicle. He stepped forward when he saw her, and the white shirt beneath his jacket glowed in the moonlight. Fire flashed in his light grey eyes.

‘Let me help you up,’ he said as he opened the truck’s passenger door.

‘I can manage.’ Lucy was anxious to avoid his gallantry. If Will touched her now, she might self-combust.

But managing alone wasn’t easy. With her arms filled with her bridesmaid’s bouquet as well as the bride’s white roses and with the added complication of her long, straight skirt and precarious high heels, the whole business of clambering up into the truck was fraught with difficulties.

Will was full of apologies. ‘I forgot how hard it is to climb into this damned thing.’

‘If you hold the bouquets, I’m sure I can swing myself up.’

Without waiting for his reply, Lucy thrust the flowers into his arms. Then, grateful for the darkness, she yanked her skirt with one hand and took a firm grip of the door handle with the other. She stepped high and hauled herself up, and everything would have been fine if one of her high heels hadn’t caught on the step.

In mid-flight, she lost her balance and then lost her grip on the handle, and before she could recover, she was slipping backwards.

Into Will’s arms.

She was crushed against his chest, along with several dozen blooms.

‘I’ve got you.’

Lucy wasn’t sure if the pounding of Will’s heart and his sharp intake of breath were caused by shock, or the exertion of catching her.

Desperately, she tried to ignore how wonderfully safe she felt in his arms, how beyond fabulous it was to be cradled against hissplendidly muscular chest. The wool of his expensive suit was cool and fine beneath her cheek. She could have stayed there…

‘I’m sorry,’ she spluttered. ‘Anyone would think I was drunk.’

‘The thought never crossed my mind.’

‘You can put me down, Will. I’m quite all right.’

‘I think it might be better if we do this my way.’

His face was in darkness, so Lucy couldn’t see his expression, but his voice was deep and warm, like a comforting blanket around her, and he hoisted her up onto the front seat of the truck with astonishing ease.

‘Put your seat belt on,’ he said, as if she was a child. ‘And then I’ll pass you what’s left of the bouquets.’

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