Page 64 of Catch and Release Groom

The very same man who’d been holdingImogen’s hand mere minutes ago. He’d kissed her cheek, growled sweet nothings in her ear, and made her believe he might be hers in the way she was already his.

It’d dawn on her then thatshe’d been stood up this wedding round. Some might even call it poetic.

Ford sat forward as the brewing tension spread to others seated in their row. “What’s goin’ on?”

Lexi, Shep, and Violet inclined their heads, while Addie and Tucker poked theirs from around Imogen. Under other circumstances, she might find it amusing, how a shift from a few resulted in the fluctuation of all seven.

“What’s up?” Addie asked, her features pinched with curiosity and a hint of worry.

“Nothing,” Easton barked. Then, in a far hastier manner than before, he grabbed Imogen’s hand and stood, pulling her along with him and revealing it was very much something.

“Excuse me,” she mumbled as she squeezed past the people who’d instantly made her feel at home last night, and she took back the thing about being left among strangers.

Was it too late to play it cool and pretend to fit in for a while longer?

Afraid this was goodbye, tears stung her eyes, and she both wanted to look and not look at faces.

Easton stuck behind her as they shuffled by the remaining wedding guests in their row. “Excuse me,” he added on top of hers, and then came the one that stabbed her heart, hitting her at the same time his fingers curved possessively around her hip. “Excuse us.”

In addition to turning a lot of heads with their retreat, there were several double-takes and whispers. A few people even asked how he was doing in this cloying, pitying tone that proved he hadn’t exaggerated the residents’ nosiness.

In a fugue-like trance, Imogen let him lead her to a massive oak with sprawling limbs and a trunk wide enough to block the cranking necks of the townsfolk.

Quaint small town or not, she could hardly blame them, when this had all the makings of one of those dramatic, last-minute wedding disturbances people discussed for ages. It went along with other “unheard of” matrimonial occurrences, such as a former flame objecting to the union, a no-show from the groom, or a runaway bride.

Funny how no one ever referred to grooms that way, even when they were the absconder.

But that was beside the point, as was the sarcastic thought that, were they playing wedding bingo, she’d win, hands down.

If only it didn’t mean she’d lost at real life, perhaps she wouldn’t feel a pit opening inside her. It yawned wide, sucking away at the happiness she’d stored up this past week and warning her this was never going to go her way.

Which was why, while everyone else in attendance wanted the scoop, she’d rather hold on to the lie she’d been telling herself, about how she and Easton could make this nebulous thing between them work.

“She’s waiting for me,” he said, his gaze suddenly elusive. “Again, not sure what you want me to do. She asked for my help.”

“And if people need help, you help them.” Imogen recited his own phrase at him, and it was everything she loved about him, and yet it was going to be the thing that broke her heart.

Yep, she’d gone there. Past the point of no return, when she could’ve shrugged off the inkling as an ember, a spark of a spark. Much like Cupid’s Golf Chariot, she found herself along for the ride without a clue what she’d fully signed up for, and it was too late to bail without injury.

She was already a little bit in love with him.

A puff of air or a meandering breeze, andwhoosh, she’d be aflame.

Imogen swallowed past the giant lump that’d taken up residence in her throat, reminding herself she was someone who stood up for herself now. “The fact that you’re rushing off to her tells me you don’t need me here to hold your hand and show everyone how good you are, anymore. I’m glad, too.” Her voice broke, and she worked to rein in her emotions. After spending this last week learning to set them free, they recoiled at the idea of being bridled. “But I can’t just stand by and watch.”

“Watch what, Imogen?” Easton threw up his hands in exasperation, a move she recognized from arguments with her ex, as were the next words that came from his mouth. “You’re not making any sense.”

The scrutiny’s starting already.

Everything was coming undone, unraveling in a jumble at her feet so quickly, and why hadn’t they called it sooner? It’d been so close to perfect.

She shouldn’t have changed her flight. There’d been a fee, and she’d grinned rebelliously and paid it without the managerial debate Brett would’ve insisted on. Not only had she pulled off a moment of spontaneity, she discovered it was loads more fun when it didn’t end in a lecture.

Except the bargain she’d struck with Eastonrequiredher attendance at this event. If she hadn’t agreed to the wedding, none of it would’ve happened, and that caused an awful ache, too.

Imogen hugged her arms around her middle, inhaling through her nose and out her mouth, and regulating her nervous system the best she could. “Right before you got that call, you were showering me with compliments and claiming how lucky you were to sit across from me. And as much as I want to believe that’s your stoic, country-boy way of telling me you care…”

She paused, and when he didn’t rush to fill the empty space, she felt equally empty. “If you really want me to stand by and wait, give me a reason, Easton.” Fingers curling tighter, nails biting into her palms so she wouldn’t reach for him until he gave her a sensible answer. “Tell me that you care about me; that you’ll miss me. Say that not all of it was fake, and that you don’t want it to end, either.”

---