Page 44 of When You Are Mine

“Sorry, the front door wasn’t closed all the way.”

The closest thing Walsh had ever seen to a real life pixie stood in the doorway. Her sharp little bob was dyed the color of plums, though Asian heritage imprinted her elfin face. He didn’t know her, but she seemed familiar.

Based on the little he’d heard from Cam and Kerris, he thought this might be Kerris’s roommate and business partner. And they might actually have met a couple of times when everyone was hanging out by the river, but he couldn’t be sure. One way to find out.

“Meredith?”

“Yeah, and you’re Walsh Bennett, right?” Her wide smile pulled her eyes into a greater tilt.

“You’re Kerris’s friend.”

“Yeah, and so are you.” She shot him a look spiced with mischief.

Walsh’s gaze narrowed at that comment.

“I guess I’m Kerris’s friend, too.” He kept his tone careful.

“Well, any friend of Cam’s is a friend of Kerris’s now, I guess.” She smiled before gesturing back toward the door. “I’m a little lost. We’re staying in the guesthouse tonight, but I didn’t see how to get to it? When I saw the front door cracked, I thought somebody could help me.”

“Who’s staying in the guest house?” Walsh demanded with a quick frown. “You and Kerris?”

“Yeah, since the wedding’s here at the house, your mom and Jo thought it made sense.”

Not only was Kerris marrying another man in his backyard, now she was spending the eve of her wedding under his roof. Could there be any other forms of torture left before this was all over? He thought about standing at the end of the aisle as Cam’s best man, Kerris walking toward him, but nottohim. He knew that would be the worst torture. Or thinking about their wedding night. Their first child.

Actually, a lifetime of torture lay ahead of him.

“The guesthouse is out back.” Every word felt like wood on his tongue. “Is Kerris already here?”

“No, she’ll be coming a little later. She, um, needed some time on her own.”

“She’s okay, though, right?” Walsh glanced over his shoulder at the little nymph following him to the guesthouse.

“Bridal nerves,” Meredith said, but Walsh recognized strain when he saw it, and it was all around her forced smile.

Walsh stopped in his tracks and turned to face Meredith, looking her straight in the eye like they’d known each other for years.

“Is she having second thoughts?” He refused to release her startled gaze.

“Did I say that? I didn’t say that.” Her laugh was light and false.

“Is she sure this is what she wants to do, Meredith? I don’t want them making a mistake.”

Meredith looked up the distance stretching between her four eleven and his six three. Walsh saw her open her mouth and close it before anything could come out.

“Kerris loves Cam, Walsh.”

Walsh drew a quick breath, disappointment taking up all the space in his chest, leaving him swollen and yet deflated. With the finality of Meredith’s words, he had to face it, had to check that ruthless determination that could compel him to take, take, take and apologize later. He felt like a tiger whose prey had disintegrated into thin air.

“Of course.” He slipped back into the self-assurance perfected through years of practice. “I’ve waited a long time for Cam to find someone, and Kerris is a remarkable girl. The guesthouse is right back here. It would’ve been hard for you to find on your own. I gotta get to Cam’s bachelor party.”

“Oh, yeah.” Meredith’s face seemed to relax with his change of topic. “You guys have fun, but not too much fun. The wedding is tomorrow, so take care of our boy.”

Walsh set his shoulders at the perfect angle to carry the weight of the world. He’d take care of Cam, all right. Hadn’t he always?

Chapter Seventeen

Walsh half stumbled through the front door, reaching out to steady himself against the wall, but it moved under his hand. He was vodka’s bitch. Invariably, when things went wrong, he hit the vodka hard. Though they hadn’t stocked his favorite, Kauffman—not surprising considering its hefty price tag—he’d made do with whatever swamp water they’d had at the bachelor party. He hadn’t drowned any sorrows, though. They were still very much alive, just flailing and sloppy and wet around the edges.

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