Page 57 of Always a Bridesmaid

He didn’t pull back, instead rolling over and taking her with him while fully connected. And for the first time, she felt so connected with another person she didn’t know where she ended and he began. Just like she no longer knew when exactly she’dstopped being a bridesmaid for hire and become a person in love.

16

Henry lay with his head against the headboard, Elle in his arms, and he gently ran his hands over her stomach. He passed over puckered skin of what felt like a scar. It ran from beneath her lower rib to almost her hip bone.

It was from a long-ago injury, a painful scar, he realized. He just wasn’t sure how deep that pain went. But the closer he came to the mark, the more tense her body became.

When he looked up, he found her looking back. “Does it hurt?”

“Not in the way you think.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, surprising both of them at his sudden willingness to have an open and honest conversation. One that would likely lead to him confessing some of his own secrets, but he didn’t care. The moment seemed right; it felt right, anyway.

“About as much as you want to talk about your childhood.”

“So you got this as a kid?”

She nodded but lost eye contact, so he pulled her closer, until they were practically a pretzel. She seemed to appreciate thecontact since she tightened her hold, then buried her face into the curve of his neck.

“I told you my dad passed when I was young, in a car crash. Well, I was with him.” Her voice was muffled, and he could feel her lips move against his bare skin. “I probably don’t look like it, but I used to be big into fishing. Well, with my dad I was. It was our thing. Every Saturday morning we’d head out before the sun came up and hit the nearest body of water. I think he did it to keep one thing constant in my life with all the moving around.”

“You moved around a lot?” Henry had just assumed that she’d been a born and bred New Yorker.

Something she’d said had her pausing for a moment, then she moved on as if nothing had happened. “My mom’s job took us all over the place. So my dad and I fished. But that morning I slept in, and we got a late start. We were just heading out when we went through an intersection and a man was texting and ran the light, hitting us at full speed.”

She flinched as if she were right back there, in the car with her dad. He ran his hand up and down her spine in soothing passes, and she melted into his touch.

“It took the EMTs eleven minutes to get to us. Eleven minutes and the whole time my dad was alive, holding my hand, telling me that everything was going to be okay and that he loved me. He told me how proud he was of me, and how he’d always be with me, no matter what. He knew, Hank.”

She looked up at him, her lashes lined with unshed emotion. “He knew he was dying but he spent his last few minutes loving me. Later I learned that he’d broken his neck in three places. He should have died on impact; there was no medical reason for how he’d lived so long, other than he was holding on until the paramedics got there so I wouldn’t be alone. He must have been in so much pain.”

Henry wasn’t sure when the tears had started to fall but he swept them up with his thumb. He tried to think of what that kind of fatherly love would feel like and came up blank. But he better understood why Elle had been so adamant that he give his dad a second chance.

“Some people are worth fighting for,” he said, looking directly into her eyes, which were more hazel than green today.

He hadn’t meant to give so much away, but Elle picked up on the subtext before he even understood it himself. “Hank, everyone is worth fighting for. You’re worth fighting for. Just because your father doesn’t know how to be a good one, that’s on him. It is not a reflection of you. Listen to me.” She cupped his jaw. “You are enough. You. Not your money or fame or what you bring to the table, but the man you are inside. That sweet, honorable, protective, and caring man. He’s enough and deserves to be fought for.”

Henry looked deeply into those translucent pools. “Would you fight for me?”

No hesitation, she said, “Absolutely. In fact, if I’m not careful I could fall for you.”

“I think I’ve already fallen, Elle.”

Jane woke up in a warm,yummy man cocoon, with Henry’s leg slung over her thigh and his hand cupping her right ass cheek like he owned it. Her hand lay on his pec, her face pressed into his chest. His breathing was deep and steady, that of a man—a sleeping man.

Last night couldn’t have been more perfect. Except for the fact that he’d fallen for Elle. If she’d only come clean and told him the truth sooner. But then she’d be in breach of contract.

Whatever she was feeling trumped a silly contract, right?

Right!

She would do it. Jane would tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help her God. As soon as the wedding was over, and Sarah and Wayne were on their way to their honeymoon.

Just one more day.

She could hold on to her secret identity for one more day. Play the role. Fulfill her promise to Sarah. Then come clean and pray that Henry didn’t tell Sarah she’d spilled the beans.

Jane knew his racing season started in just a few weeks and she knew she had to go home, but she was willing to give long distance a shot if he was. She was willing to fight for him—for them.

---