“I know. You’re formally excused from groveling. You’d better go before Eric implodes.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, baby blues piercing like lasers.
Eric backed out and tapped his horn.
Christy glanced over at him, thinking again that he was giving up too easily. Then she realized why. Dammit. Eric might not know how to get to the lake house, but…
“What’s wrong?”
“Eric. He doesn’t give up easily. Not when he wants something. And he wants Viv.” She debated running in the house and changing and going with Trevor to the reception. But she was the walking dead at this point. Then she eyed Trevor. Hmm. He did owe her one. A giant one. “If you want to repay me for this morning, do me a favor and don’t let Kate tell him how to get to the lake house.”
“Do you think she’ll tell him after everything that’s happened?”
Christy just looked at him.
“Right. What was I thinking? I only just met the woman, but I have a feeling Mike’s life will never be boring.”
Christy more than agreed. “Promise me you won’t let him go up there.”
“I’ll do my best.” He climbed in the car, then leaned out the window. “Maybe you should call her anyway. Just in case he finds out from someone else.”
There wasn’t anyone else who knew—not that Christy was aware of anyway. Viv worked with Christy in ICU and their grueling shift schedule had made it easier to head up to the cabin during the week, making it almost impossible for her other friends to come up. As far she knew, Kate had been the only other one.
“I can’t call her,” Christy said. “No phones up there yet. Just cell phones, and the service is spotty at best. She probably turned hers off anyway. But I’ll try.”
“Okay.” But he didn’t move. And neither did she.
Eric tapped his horn again and Christy narrowed her gaze at him, knowing his impatience did not stem from a strong desire for wedding cake. He wanted to get to Kate.
“Keep an eye on him.”
He merely grinned and gave her a final salute.
Christy was still clutching the sequin dress and robe to her chest when Trevor pulled out. She watched until the car disappeared, then realized she was actually weaving on her feet she was so tired.
It was only when she went up the porch steps that she realized she had no purse. Which meant she also did not have Viv’s spare key. And Mr. Military had surely locked the back door.
Perfect. Just perfect. She was too exhausted to work up a good panic. She rooted around the door and porch, but found nothing. Too tired to cry, she simply dumped the dress and shoes on the porch rocker and curled up in the padded porch swing. She’d deal with this much better after she’d had some sleep.
She would have sworn she’d just closed her eyes when someone—gently this time—tried to wake her up.
“Christy, I really hate to do this.”
“Then don’t,” she growled. Her bed was swaying. Why was her bed swaying? She was hallucinating, that was it. It was a dream brought on by an overload of stress and sleep deprivation. She tried to snuggle more deeply under her covers…then realized vaguely that there didn’t seem to be any covers. No pillows, either.
“Christy. It’s Eric. He’s gone. And I don’t think it’s to the airport.”
On the best of days it took at least three of her six alarm clocks to wake her up. Right now it would take an atomic bomb. “Go ’way.”
He was shaking her shoulder again. “I know you’re going to kill me for this and I deserve a full court-martial. I don’t know how Eric found out. I stuck by Kate until she and Mike left for their honeymoon. But one of the bridesmaids said she saw him leave in a hurry. I’m betting he’s headed for the lake house.”
That penetrated the fog. “Wha? Lake house? Eric?” She sat bolt upright, then groaned and held her head as the swing rocked. “Someone just shoot me now.”
Then there were strong arms around her and she simply didn’t have it in her to fight.
“Come on. I’m taking you inside.”
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