“Exactly.” She smiled. “So, let’s go.”
There was no sense arguing. Ben didn’t want to anyway. He’d come outside to make sure Chloe was okay and to satisfy his curiosity. He’d accomplished the first. The second would take a little more time. Maybe a lot more time.
That was something Ben didn’t have.
Much as he loved his job, being a pastor was more than a full-time commitment. Opal’s opinion about a pastor needing a wife aside, Ben had no room for anything more in his life. That was why he planned to put Chloe Davidson and her sad-eyed smile out of his mind.
Planned to.
But he knew enough about life, enough about God, to know that his plans might not be the best ones. That sometimes things he thought were too much effort, too much time, too much commitment, were exactly what God wanted. Only time would tell if Chloe was one of those things.
He pushed open the reception hall door, allowing Chloe and Opal to step in ahead of him. Light, music, laughter and chatter washed over him, the happy excitement of those in attendance wrapping around his heart and pulling him in.
“Ben!” Hawke Morran stepped toward him, dark hair pulled back from his face, his scar a pale line against tan skin.
Ben grabbed his hand and shook it. “Things went well.”
“Of course they did. I was marrying Miranda. Thank you for doing the ceremony. And for everything else. Without your help we might not be here at all.” The cadence to his words, the accent that tinged them, was a reminder of where he’d grown up, of the life he’d lived before he’d come to the States to work for the DEA, before he’d been set up and almost killed. Ben had met him while he was on the run, offered the help Hawke needed, and forged a friendship with him.
“There’s no need to thank me. I was glad to help.”
“And I’m glad to have made a friend during a very dark time.” He smiled, his pale gaze focused on his wife.
“Are you returning to Thailand for your honeymoon?”
“We are. I want Miranda to experience it when she’s not running for her life.”
“Try to stay out of trouble this time.”
“I think my days of finding trouble are over.” He paused, glanced at the hoard of women who had converged on his bride. “Miranda is finally going to toss the flowers. Come on, let’s get closer. My wife doesn’t know it, yet, but as soon as she finishes, she’s going to be kidnapped.”
That sounded too good to miss and Ben followed along as Hawke moved toward the group. Miranda smiled at the women crowded in front of her, turned and tossed the bouquet. Squeals of excitement followed as the ladies jostled for position, the flowers flying over grasping hands and leaping bridesmaids before slapping into the chest of the only silent, motionless woman there.
Chloe.
Her hands grasped the flowers, pulled them in. Then, as if she realized what she was doing and didn’t like it, she frowned, tossing the bouquet back into the fray. More squeals followed, more grasping and clawing for possession. Chloe remained apart from it all, watching, but not really seeming to see. Ben took a step toward her, hesitated, told himself he should let her be, then ignored his own advice and crossed the space between them.
FOUR
“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen a woman catch the bouquet and throw it back.” Ben Avery’s laughter rumbled close to Chloe’s ear, pulling her from thoughts she was better off not dwelling on. Hopes, dreams, promises. All shattered and broken.
She turned to face him, glad for the distraction, though she wasn’t sure she should be. “I didn’t throw it. I tossed it.”
“Like it was a poisonous snake.” The laughter was still in his voice and, despite the warning that shouted through her mind every time she was with Ben, Chloe smiled.
“More like it was a bouquet I had no use for.” She glanced away from his steady gaze, watching as a little flower girl emerged triumphant from the crowd of wannabe brides, the bouquet clutched in her fist. “Besides, it seems to have gone to the right person.”
Ben followed the direction of her gaze and nodded. “You may be right about that, but tell me, since when do flowers have to be useful? Aren’t they simply meant to be enjoyed?”
“I suppose. But I’m not into frivolous things.” Or things that reminded her of what she’d almost had. That was more to the point, but she wasn’t going to say as much to Ben.
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“You’re not into frivolous things but you work in a flower shop.” His gaze was back on Chloe, his eyes seeming to see much more than she wanted.
To Chloe’s relief, a high-pitched shriek and excited laughter interrupted the conversation.
“Look,” Ben cupped her shoulder, urging her to turn. “Hawke told me he was going to kidnap his bride. I wasn’t sure he’d go through with it.”
But he had, the broad-shouldered, hard-faced groom, striding toward the exit with his bride in his arms, the love between the two palpable. Chloe’s chest tightened, her eyes burning. At least these two had found what they were seeking. At least one couple would have their happy ending.
For tonight anyway.
The cynical thought weaseled its way into Chloe’s mind, chasing away the softer emotions she’d been feeling. She brushed back bangs that needed a trim and stepped away from Ben, ready to make her escape. “I’m going to start cleaning things up in the sanctuary.”
“You most certainly are not.” Opal appeared at her side, a scowl pulling at the corners of her mouth. “You’re going home. I’ll take care of things here.”
“I’m not going to leave you to do all this alone.”
“Who said I’d be alone?” As she spoke a white-haired gentleman stepped up beside Opal, his hand resting on her lower back. Opal glanced back and met his eyes, then turned to Chloe. “This is Sam. He and I go back a few years.”
“A few decades, but she won’t admit it.” The older man smiled, his face creased into lines that reflected a happy, well-lived life. “Sam Riley. And you’re, Chloe. I’ve heard a good bit about you.”
“Hopefully only good things.” Sam Riley? It was a name she hadn’t heard before. That, more than anything, made her wonder just what kind of relationship he had with Opal.
“Mostly good things.” He winked, his tan, lined face filled with humor. “But I promise not to share any of the not-so-good things I heard if you’ll convince Opal to go for a walk with me after this shindig.”
“Sam Riley! That’s blackmail.” Opal’s voice mixed with Ben’s laughter, her scowl matched by his smile.
“Whatever works, doll.”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” But it was obvious she didn’t really mind; obvious there was something between the two. A past. Maybe even a future.
And no one deserved that more than Opal. “If you agree to go for a walk with Sam, I’ll agree to go home without an argument.”
Opal speared her with a look that would have wilted her when she was a scared ten-year-old spending the night with her grandmother’s neighbor. “And that’s blackmail, too. I thought I’d taught you’d better than that, young lady.”
“You tried.”
Opal looked like she was going to argue more, then her gaze shifted