Page 42 of Too Hot to Sleep
He touched the brim of his hat, then watched until she disappeared inside the cathedral. His heart pounded and his body strained forward, compelling him to go after her. Ken forced himself to return to his job, but when his colleague said he would take care of parking the stragglers, Ken removed his hat and ventured inside the cathedral, turning at the staircase and walking up into the balcony, which was empty save for the videographer.
He hung back, scouring the audience below. He found her hat and enjoyed a leisurely look at her as she peeked over her shoulder toward the entrance of the church in anticipation of the ceremony starting—or maybe of her boyfriend arriving? There was an empty space next to her on the pew, which irritated him immensely. Rob had obviously known about the wedding before Ken had promised on the man's behalf to "do his best to come." Perhaps the business that had called him out of town had kept him from returning to Birmingham, but that didn't explain why the man hadn't at least called Georgia to say he wouldn't be there.
The organist started playing softly, then the ceremony began. The groomsmen filed in, and Ken studied the groom, whoseemed composed except for rocking back and forth on his heels. Ken felt for him and couldn't fathom being in his shoes. Taking a vow to forsake all others for the rest of your life—scary. His parents had beat the odds, going on forty years of marriage, but these days, things were different.Peoplewere different, not as strong, not as dedicated.
His gaze went back to Georgia and he bit down on the inside of his cheek. Was that why he felt so drawn to the woman? Because she seemed so complex, this woman with the face of an angel whose passionate phone calls would test the devil himself? He squirmed, his stomach burning with want and guilt and some unidentifiable urge to find out what made her tick. A hot flush burned his neck when he realized how he would seem if someone knew what was going on—watching a woman from a balcony with whom he'd been having phone sex without her knowledge.
He swallowed, himself confused by the battery of emotions pulling at him. He had the horrible feeling that something wonderful was slipping through his fingers. Of all the numbers in Birmingham, why had she calledhisby accident? And why had he responded? And why had they met the following day?
If he gave up now, was he turning his back on fate?
The bridesmaids filed in—he thought one of them was the petite friend of Georgia's from the blood drive—and the rest of the wedding party. Then, on the organist's cue, everyone stood as the bride made her way down the aisle. With her back to him, it was easy for Ken to imagine Georgia in the woman's place, approaching the altar with fluid movements. He frowned wryly, projecting Rob's unknown face onto the groom. Was the guy a model type, with spiffy clothes and a fifty-dollar haircut? His ride was expensive enough, and his address put him in a posh part of town.
He stole glances at Georgia as the ceremony proceeded. She was rapt, giving solemn attention to the minister's words. Wasshe foreseeing her own wedding? Would the vows exchanged today either strengthen or weaken her commitment to Rob Trainer?
And the ceremony itself seemed to be going well, with appropriate smiles and nods—until a commotion in the back captured the attention of everyone in the church. Ken couldn't see what was going on directly beneath the balcony, but his instincts kicked in the instant he saw the expressions of shock—and panic. He crouched and crept to the front of the balcony, then glanced down through the rails as a man came into view.
"Stacey," the man shouted, his body shaking. "You can't marry him!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Ken noticed the videographer had left his chair and was aiming the camera downward.
"Darren," the bride said, her eyes wide. "You shouldn't be here." Ken could hear the woman's fear.
The groom's face had turned a mottled shade. "How dare you show your face, Haney." Then, as any self-respecting challenged groom would do, he started for the man, his eyes blazing.
But when the man whipped out a knife, the groom stopped short and guests drew back. Involuntarily, Ken's eyes flew to Georgia, who had turned around and looked horrified. Thanks to his crouched position, she hadn't noticed him in the balcony, and neither had anyone else, except for the cameraman.
"Come on," the crazy man shouted at the groom, stabbing the air with his blade. "If you're going to marry Stacey, you'll have to get past me first!"
Ken's mind raced, sizing up the situation. The man stood directly beneath him. He could simply announce his presence and draw his weapon, but something about brandishing a gun in church didn't sit well in his gut. His gaze fell upon the metal folding chair the videographer had vacated, and the solution hit him.
* * *
GEORGIA'S HEARTlodged in her throat. One minute she'd pushed aside the hurt of Rob not showing and immersed herself in the unfolding ceremony, and the next a knife-wielding lunatic had taken the church hostage. A memory stirred of Toni mentioning Stacey had a creepy ex-boyfriend. She swallowed hard. From his wild-eyed look and the size of that knife, someone was going to get hurt.
A movement in the balcony caught her eye. The videographer was capturing everything on film, and—she gulped—Ken Medlock was holding a folding metal chair over the madman's head. Her heart soared crazily. Then four seconds later, it was all over—the knife fell to the carpet, harmless, and the man lay on his side, moaning, with a bloody gash on his forehead. Several male guests jumped to restrain him.
But at the sight of blood, her own instincts kicked in. She elbowed past the people in her pew and threaded her way through the crowd. "Excuse me, I'm a nurse. Excuse me."
She stepped over the knife, then knelt to scrutinize the man's wound. She sensed, rather than heard, Ken Medlock stride up behind her. The man had such an uncanny knack for being...around.And when had she started liking it?
Moving with power and economy of motion, he picked up the knife with a handkerchief and wrapped it. The man emanated quiet authority. "Everyone, step back," he said, waving his arms. He pulled out a set of handcuffs and knelt to the floor. "That means you, too, ma'am," he murmured for her ears only.
She glanced up and was distracted for a split second by his serious brown eyes. "He might have a concussion."
"And he might have a death wish. If he tried to hurt you, I'd have to shoot him. So," he added with a little smile, "please step aside until I can cuff him."
She was moved by the sincerity of his expression. Ken made her feel... grounded. And secure. And very, very aroused. She swallowed, then moved back in concession.
"Will you hold this, ma'am?" he asked, extending the wrapped knife.
She took it gingerly, surprised by its weight, her mind reeling with other possible outcomes of the situation. An incredibly calm hero, Ken cuffed the man's wrists behind him just as the groom, Neil, walked up with a teary-eyed Stacey.
"Thank you, Officer," Neil said. "We're grateful you were here."
Georgia stepped forward. "Neil Childers and Stacey Alexander, this is Officer Ken Medlock. Ken is..." She looked at him and her heart jerked crazily. "Ken is a friend."
"You're here with Georgia?" the groom asked.
