Page 51 of Cut The Cake

Cheri hovered. “It wouldn’t need a single alteration. We could press and steam it and deliver it straight to the Captain’s Cottage.”

Except I’m not the one who’s getting married.

Regret swooped in and stole the joy right out of moment. Jenny’s stomach twisted painfully. She splayed her fingers across the layers of chiffon. “Oh, I’m not buying this.” She let the rich fabric of the skirt sift through her fingers. “I’m getting the first one I tried on.”

“But …” As if he’d had the wind taken out of his sails, Nick sank onto the cushions.

“You are?” Cheri’s brows knitted. “You just said you loved this gown. Why wouldn’t you get the one you like the best?”

Jenny swallowed. Like so many of the changes she’d made to the wedding plans since her arrival in Heart’s Landing, Nick and Cheri would never understand why she had to choose one particular dress over another. As much as she wanted to explain it to them, she couldn’t. Not without betraying Kay’s trust. Instead, she forged ahead. “I have my reasons. I know what I’m doing.”

From his position on the couch, Nick lifted one shoulder in a shrug she would have found endearing before he’d broken her heart. “You know your fiancé better than any of us.” He stared at the carpet. “If you think he’ll like the other one best, then who am I to argue?”

In a move that said she’d been dealt a surprise or two from brides in the past, Cheri straightened. “Don’t you worry your head about a thing, my dear. You’re going to be such a beautiful bride, it doesn’t matter which dress you choose.”

If only that were true. “Then it’s settled. Let me get out of this gown and I’ll get out of your hair.”

Jenny cast a last, lingering glance at herself in the mirror. She didn’t have to look twice. The expression on Nick’s face when she walked out of the dressing area had said it all—if he loved her the way she loved him, this would be the dress she’d wear when she walked down the aisle. But he didn’t love her, and suddenly, she couldn’t stand to have the gown on a minute longer. Reaching for the zipper, she dashed down the hallway toward the dressing area.

Chapter Fifteen

Oh, man. How dumb was that?

He’d let himself forget, just for a moment, that Jenny was marrying someone else. When she’d walked out of the back of the store wearing that last gown, he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d practically heard the DJ introducing Mr. and Mrs. Nicolas Bell to the guests at their wedding. Like the hero in countless movies, he’d hold out his arm for her, lead her onto the dance floor and press her close while the band played their favorite song.

Then, fate had slapped him in the face with a cold bucket of, “I’m not buying this.”

He wasn’t Jenny’s Mr. Right. She had chosen the other guy, like she’d chosen the other dress. He’d been stupid to think things would work out any differently.

But that was exactly what he’d been thinking, wasn’t it? That somehow, some way, she’d choose him. That when the time came to say, “I do,” she’d tell Bob, “I don’t.”

Yeah, that was never going to happen. He saw that now. She’d made her choice. She’d stick with it.

An empty, hollow feeling spread through his gut. By sheer force of will, he held it together until Jenny disappeared into the dressing area with Cheri. When he was unable to resist any longer, he reached for one of the slender glasses of mimosa. He chugged the mixture of juice and champagne down in a single swallow. Reaching for another, he stilled his hand. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what would happen if he combined alcohol and a sleepless night on an empty stomach. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool today. Not on the day he’d put the finishing touches on Jenny’s wedding cake. The cake he’d serve following her wedding to another man.

He hung his head and somehow managed not to howl.

It took every ounce of strength he had, but somehow he pulled himself together by the time Jenny turned to face him on the sidewalk outside the dress shop a few minutes later.

“Thanks for coming with me today, Nick,” she said, her voice and demeanor decidedly cool. As if he needed another clue, she extended her hand.

“Glad to do it.” He grasped her palm in a polite shake. “So what’s on your agenda for the day?”

“I have to give the vendors their final payments and see a few people, but nothing you need to bother with. I’ll check on the flowers with Mildred. Alicia asked me to drop by the Captain’s Cottage to go over a few adjustments to the seating chart. I need to finalize pickup times with the car service. That sort of thing.”

“Just the usual, last-minute confirmations, then? No changes?” He crossed his fingers. People were counting on him to keep a certain wayward bride on track. He couldn’t let them down, no matter how much he suffered for it.

Jenny’s lips parted. Instead of answering, though, she looked toward the opposite end of the street just as a horse-drawn carriage turned the corner onto Boutonniere. Her gaze fixed on the carriage. As still as one of Captain Thaddeus’s stone hearts, she tracked the buggy’s movement from one end of the broad avenue to the other. Her trance lasted until the wheels disappeared around a bend in the road. At last, a breath shuddered through her.

“Jenny?” His heart squeezed painfully at the unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

Like someone waking from a dream, she rubbed one hand over her face. “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

“We were talking about your big day when you went, well, blank for a minute. You’re not under the weather, are you? You’re drinking enough water?” She wouldn’t be the first bride to overlook the need for food and water. Even in Rhode Island, dehydration could be a problem.

“I’m okay. Really, I am.” Jenny brushed one hand over her eyes. “I love horse-drawn carriages. The pageantry. The elegance. I kind of lose it whenever I see one.”

He thought her answer was a bit forced, her smile a bit too bright, but he could no longer assume he knew her moods, her wants, her dreams. Not when he’d judged the situation between them so badly. Not when she was marrying someone else. Scuffing his foot, he focused on the things he did know. That, for instance, Jenny had scheduled her own carriage ride. “What time will your driver pick you up for the ceremony on Saturday? I’ll be sure to wave as you ride past the bakery.” And not just him. He’d have the entire staff line the sidewalk.

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