Always a Fake Bridesmaid (Clover Lake #1)

Chapter 1

one

LIVVY

“Mom! Mom! Let me show you! Mom! Mommy! Mommy!”

As the dulcet tones of my precious, now four-year-old, daughter echoed throughout the park, I tried to remember the last time someone had called me Livvy Montgomery. Had anyone used my name recently?

Of course in an email. That had to be right. No, I was pretty sure they’d used the name Ms. Montgomery. But not Livvy. Even today while surrounded by my parents, brother, and a couple other family members, they hadn’t addressed me by name.

I was now Mom. Mommy. Although Amelia calling me Mom instead of just Mommy was like a stab to the heart. I didn’t like the idea that my baby girl no longer only called me Mommy.

All of that whirled in my brain in a moment’s time as I turned toward Amelia and smiled.

“Hello, baby girl. What did you want to show me?” I asked, looking down at my precious daughter.

She had just gotten a haircut, and while I once again had saved a few clippings because my baby girl was growing up too quickly, she looked a mess. But she was my mess.

Her blonde hair was stick straight, so unlike mine it was a little disturbing. She had full bangs and pigtails on either side of her head that made me want to whip out my phone and once again take a photo. The number of albums I had labeled Amelia was a little ridiculous.

I heard the sound of a phone camera clicking come from my right, and I looked over at my mother who was indeed taking a photo.

Shea Montgomery just blinked at me with those all too innocent eyes. “What? She’s cute. And she’s my grandbaby. Let me be.”

“I was just thinking the same. Send me that?” I asked as I moved toward Amelia.

My mother grinned and quickly texted me the photo. I looked over at Amelia, who held up her hands covered in finger paint, and sighed thinking of the mess we’d be cleaning up later.

“What did you paint today, darling?”

“Uncle John. Of course.” She rolled her eyes, and I swallowed hard, wondering where she had learned that. Honestly, probably me. I was a single mother working on little sleep and I tended to roll my eyes often. Only when had my baby girl grown to the point that she could roll her eyes and look like a teenager? Yes, she was still only four, but I could blink and suddenly she’d be rolling her eyes when I wouldn’t let her have the car keys for the night.

Though at Amelia’s words, I looked down at my younger brother and held back a laugh. Only I couldn’t stop the smile crossing my face. Once again, my mother snapped a few photos.

“Baby girl, I do believe your painting should be in the Louvre.”

“What’s a Loo Vee?” Amelia asked, a grin on that painted face.

I knelt down in front of her, baby wipes in hand. “It’s a special museum in Paris, France.”

“Where’s France?”

“It is a country in Europe. Do you remember us talking about Europe?”

“Maybe. Is it with the fish and chips?”

My lips twitched. “Close.”

“They have baguettes and cheese,” John put in. My twenty-year-old brother sat up, his face covered in paint.

“Cheese?” Amelia asked, her eyes widening.

“Well, if there was any doubt that she was a Montgomery,” my mom muttered.

I grinned up at her.

“Excuse me, you married into the family ma’am.”

“I did, and I went through cheese school to understand the true depths of my love of all things dairy. Don’t worry, I promise that we’ll have cheesecake for dessert.”

“Cake! Cake!”

I narrowed my eyes at my mother, who just fluttered her eyelashes and helped wash off Amelia.

John leaned forward, a fake pout on his face. “Hey, you’re my mom. You’re supposed to help wipe my face.”

“You’re in college, my boy. You should be able to do it yourself.” And then Mom leaned forward and began to wipe off his face anyway.

He beamed over at her, and I snapped a photo. “I’m sending that to your girlfriend.”

John posed again. “Go for it. She loves Mom. And it would show how great I am with kids.”

“You’re a menace,” I said, doing my best to clean up Amelia as much as possible.

“John Montgomery. Are you thinking about kids?” my mom asked, and my brother blushed beneath the face paint.

“No. I promise. I’ll wait until I’m out of college, and prepared.”

“Nothing prepares you for kids,” my mother said sweetly.

I swallowed hard, knowing that she hit the nail right on the head. Because I hadn’t been prepared for Amelia. I hadn’t even been prepared for the man I thought I had loved. The man who I thought had loved me.

But Brick was long gone, no matter how hard I tried to find him.

“Why are you sad?” Amelia asked, her voice soft. Both John and my mother gave me a look, and I pasted a bright smile on my face.

“I’m just sad that I don’t have cheese right now.”

It wasn’t quite a lie. My mother hadn’t been joking when she said cheese was a Montgomery trait. Most people went along with the joke and thought we were at least good natured when it came to it. But in reality, our family just really liked cheese. It had started with a party long ago and had now catapulted into an entire branding. When people thought of the Montgomerys, they thought of cheese. Which probably wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but I didn’t mind it. It just meant no matter the family event, we were going to have something we liked to eat.

“I love cheese. Do I get to try Gouda next?”

“It’s Gouda for you,” John put in.

I groaned. “That wasn’t even a good one.”

“You mean a Gouda one?” John asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Amelia laughed, and then threw herself at her uncle. As I watched more paint smear on his clothes, I sighed and sat back on my feet. “Well, it looks like both of our children are going to need baths tonight.”

“That is up to John. I passed those duties to him long ago,” my mom teased.

I stood up then and held out my hand to help her. She gave me a look but let me guide her. “I’m not elderly you know. I just ran a half-marathon.”

“I don’t know how you got into running. The only way that I’ll ever run is either because a zombie’s chasing me, Amelia needs me, or if there’s a cheese plate with my name on it,” I added just to make my mom laugh.

Mom shrugged. “I needed something to do after I sold the business. I mean, looking at numbers all day was fine, but I wanted something just for me. And running’s it. Your father thinks I’m crazy, but he loves me.”

That made me smile. “I do like swimming. I should probably get back into that.”

“There’s a nice program at the gym near us. Do you want me to look things up for you?”

I shook my head. “Thank you, but I’ll find time.”

“Really? We had to pull teeth in order to get you out here today, my child. Let me help.”

I grimaced, knowing she was right even as the guilt set in. “Okay fine. I’d like that.”

“You know, you should also get back into riding”

I shook my head as memories of me in my little jodhpurs and helmet came back to mind.

My mother came from money. I had known that all of my life. It was why we were well off as a family, but my mother still worked. She had built her own business down in New Orleans, where she had met my father, and then had moved up to Colorado Springs with him when my dad had wanted to be with his family again. Dad and his sister and a few friends had started up Montgomery Ink Too, a franchise of the original Montgomery Ink that my uncles and aunt had started in downtown Denver.

Now there were multiple tattoo studios around the state with our name on it, and my mother had been the one to make sure that everything business-wise was set. But before she had found her calling, and now being a half-marathoner, and making sure the businesses didn’t crumble, she had been the ice princess.

At least according to my father.

I didn’t know the whole story other than I had never met my grandmother. I knew she was still alive because every once in a while my mother would get a letter in the mail and look sad for a few days. And then my father would make my mother smile and things would get back to normal. In the end we didn’t really need my mother’s family. We had my father’s family, all one hundred of them. I had far too many cousins to count, and they were each and every one part of Livvy’s life.

So while we didn’t need my mother’s family, she still had a trust fund. And that trust fund had led to extracurriculars I had been afforded while some of my friends and family hadn’t. Hence being a horse girl when I was a little kid. I had never owned my own horse, but it had been a dream.

“I have not been on a horse in so long, and I don’t really think it’s like riding a bike.”

“You never know. Count it as research.” My mom’s eyes sparkled as she reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Research would be nice. Though I don’t think I am editing a Western anytime soon.”

“Maybe one of the heroes of those books will be a cowboy.”

“Maybe. Right now I’m in the middle of editing a sci-fi though.”

“No space horses?” Mom asked.

“Not yet.”

“Get a hobby,” my mom put in quickly.

“What?”

“Do something for yourself. Whether it’s swimming or riding or baking. Do something that is not editing and reading or Amelia-related. You need that.”

“I’m really busy, Mom. I have a life. I love my life.”

“I know you do, but you need things for you that are Livvy, not being a mom.”

The fact my mother had echoed my earlier thoughts might have worried me, but I knew she had probably gone through the same things. Didn’t all mothers at one point have an identity crisis?

It didn’t help that I still had nightmares one day Brick would come back and fight for custody.

I hadn’t spoken to him since Amelia had been born, but he used to send letters, just to threaten me. We kept every one of them, but he always said that he would come back, and wanted to make sure his legacy was taken care of.

It was a disgusting mess, and I hadn’t heard from him in nearly a year now.

And while I knew the courts had to be on my side, I wasn’t certain. So I had my cousin’s security company searching for Brick. If Noah couldn’t find him, then nobody could.

I just wanted Brick to finally sign over parental rights, and I would be in the clear. I didn’t need child support. I just wanted freedom.

As my father crested over the hill at the other end of the park, I pushed all thoughts of Brick and my worries from my mind.

Dad was tall, bearded, and tattooed, and might’ve looked a little scary to some people. But he was just my dad. Most of my family members were tattooed and pierced. Considering they were in the business, it just made sense. I had a few tattoos as well, and they were far more commonplace these days.

Our family sometimes felt as if we were completely nuclear and normal. And other times, we looked like the heathens people thought we were.

“Grandpa!” Amelia called as she ran toward my dad without looking at her surroundings.

“Amelia Montgomery. What did I say about running off?” I snapped, fear in my throat.

Fear, because we were in a public park surrounded by busy roads. Yes, the Rocky Mountains were over to the west in a glorious backdrop, but there were still strangers and cars everywhere.

“Sorry, Mommy,” Amelia pouted. My dad got to her then and gave me a small smile before picking up his granddaughter.

“I’m so happy you are excited to see me. But listen to your mom, okay?” My dad asked as he tickled her belly.

“I promise, Grandpa.” And then she patted his beard before kissing his cheek.

“That’s my girl,” Shep Montgomery said with a big smile on his face.

“She’s a menace,” I said with a laugh as I moved forward and kissed my dad on his other cheek.

“There’s both of my girls.”

My dad had been the best father a girl could ask for. Seriously. When I had shown up on their doorstep fresh out of college, pregnant, and alone, they had immediately taken me in and helped me figure out what I was going to do. I had known that with my dual degrees of journalism and English literature I wanted to go into publishing but starting off as an intern and moving out to New York like they did in the movies just wasn’t going to happen. Not only was it unaffordable, I was a mother now. So thanks to my mother’s tutelage, I’d begun my own business. I was a freelance content editor, and also wrote articles when needed. I was a full business, with a waitlist for clients. I worked with publishers, indie authors, and hybrid ones too. It wasn’t glamorous, and I wasn’t rolling in Gucci bags, but it provided a living for my daughter. And I knew that I was privileged to do so because my parents had supported me.

Brick had come from more money than my mother had. And if he had paid even an ounce of child support, I wouldn’t wake up in a cold sweat every once in a while, wondering what would happen if my career changed. What would be my backup for my backup.

“I’m sorry for taking so long to get here,” my dad said as he set down Amelia so she could play with John some more.

“I thought you were bringing the boys?” Mom asked, and I nearly rolled my eyes like my daughter had earlier. Because the boys could mean any one of fifty. It could be my cousins or my dad’s cousins. Honestly it was a little scary how many of them there were.

“Lex and Crew said they were going to come today. They were bringing extra cold chicken.”

“Did someone say chicken?” John asked as he stood up, Amelia upside down in his arms.

“If you break my child,” I warned, and John just beamed.

“They’re on their way. They had to park on the other side and gave me the elder parking up front.” He rolled his eyes at his comment, and I pressed my lips together trying to hide my grin.

“If you laugh young lady,” my dad warned, but he was still smiling.

“Well let’s get the rest of the picnic set up since they’re coming soon,” my mom said, though it sounded more like a question.

My dad held up both hands. “I swear they are coming. With chicken.”

“I love chicken,” Amelia said as she rubbed her little belly.

“Same, my child. Same,” Dad added with a wink.

We cleaned up the excess paint that was thankfully water-soluble. It wouldn’t hurt the environment, and it would come out of everybody’s clothes and hair. It was just a mess to start with. And then we started to set out the cold salads and chips and other sandwich materials.

By the time we were ready to eat, Crew and Lexington came forward, each with a bucket of chicken in hand.

“Sorry we’re late. Work thing,” Lex offered.

I didn’t ask Lex, but I grinned up at him as he kissed the top of my head.

“Hello, cousin of mine.”

“Hello there, cousin,” I teased.

Technically Lex and I were second cousins or first cousins twice removed. We didn’t do the math like that. Everybody in our generation were cousins and we just went with it.

It was far easier for secret Santas during holiday time.

“There’s my girl,” Lexington said as he held out his arms, and Amelia threw herself into them.

“One day she’s going to get so tall she’s going to knock me right over,” Lexington teased.

“Don’t age her so quickly,” I said, my hand on my stomach.

“Hey there,” Crew said as he took a seat next to me.

I smiled up at the man who wasn’t a Montgomery but had dated a couple. In fact, most people were of the opinion that Crew and Lex were dating, though they weren’t saying anything about it. I didn’t ask questions, and in the end it didn’t matter. I just liked Crew.

“Okay let’s eat before this child starts to eat my arm,” Lex said with a laugh, while Amelia chomped down on his forearm.

“Don’t bite your uncle,” I teased.

“Okay.” Amelia rolled her eyes again and sighed and winced.

I was going to have to make that stop somehow, even though it was so cute.

Taking a day to have a picnic wasn’t something I did often. Frankly, it was only Montgomery gatherings that got me out of the house. I didn’t date, despite what my friends sometimes tried to make me do, and I rarely went out.

But times like this allowed me to relax just a little bit.

“Can I go throw this away?” Amelia asked, holding up the tiny trash bag.

I looked over at the trash can that was only six feet away or so and frowned. “Let me come with you. Or one of your uncles.”

“I’m fine. It’s right there, Mommy,” she whined, glaring at me.

“Watch that face of yours,” I warned.

She immediately smiled. “I’m sorry. But please? I’m a big girl now.”

“Fine. But I’m watching you.”

It was seriously less than six feet away, and nobody was standing by the trash can. She would be fine. And I needed to stop being a helicopter parent. But she was only four. I should’ve still been able to wrap her in cotton wool.

The guys had gotten up to play some form of a soccer game with a few other strangers, and my mother had her back turned, finishing cleaning up some of the art supplies.

That’s why they didn’t see the bike coming first.

Everything happened in slow motion as I moved as quickly as I could toward my daughter.

Amelia had just put the trash in the can, smiling wide because she could reach now, as the bicyclist on his phone went off the path. Somebody screamed, another person shouted obscenities, but I only had eyes for my daughter.

When she looked up, she froze for just an instant, and I knew that bicycle was going to hit her.

Then Amelia jumped to the side, right out of the way of the bicyclist, only she was right at the edge of the curb.

A scream tore through my throat as I shifted toward her, hand outstretched, but I was too late. My little girl tripped over the side of the curb and fell right toward the busy street.

And her little scream would haunt me until my dying breath.