1. The Perpetual Bridesmaid
Chapter 1
The Perpetual Bridesmaid
Neve Embry moved through the tiny clinic she knew by feel as much as by sight, turning off lights until she reached the pharmacy. As was her usual habit, she unlocked the cabinet where the controlled substances were kept to make sure any she or her tech had used during the day were back where they belonged.
She unlocked the cabinet door and peered inside, her eyes traveling over the neatly arranged boxes and bottles. Something looked off, and she moved a few boxes around. Her heart sank. What she’d spied through the glass—and hoped was wrong—turned out to be right on closer inspection: There was less tramadol than there should have been, and the ketamine seemed light too. Or she’d miscounted previously. Or her tech had forgotten to replace them before she’d left for the day.
One of those explanations had to be the reason the supplies were short. Except both she and her tech were meticulous with the logs.
She prowled through her tiny vet clinic, flooding the dim rooms with harsh fluorescent lights as she went. The world outside the clinic windows was cloaked in inky blue velvet, even though it was barely six thirty in the evening. But that was typical of her hometown in November. Ringed by soaring snow-encrusted peaks, the mountain village of Fall River was plunged into midnight from early evening to the following morning at this time of year.
The surgery area was clean as a whistle, and so was recovery. So were the two exam rooms, her office, and the reception area. No missing medication. She paused and tapped her chin, her mind scrolling through a list of explanations. When had she last noticed the supply? Lauren, her tech-slash-receptionist, usually managed those details so Neve could tend to the countless animals needing her help—like the pathetic cat staring at her with one glassy eye from the cage where she’d secured him for the night.
“What am I missing, Mr. Whiskers?” she asked the doped-up gray tabby cat. The name was a misnomer because he didn’t have any whiskers; they had been burned down to stubs. She had no idea what the cat’s name truly was—or if he had one at all—but even without the telltale bristles, the moniker seemed to fit the stray a local high school boy had found and brought in.
Crouching down to give the cat a chin scratch through the metal grid, she continued flipping through events in her mind.
For the second time in two weeks, she couldn’t account for all the tramadol. The first time, she’d been sure she’d simply miscalculated. Lauren had as much as confirmed it. But twice now? When she’d never had any meds go missing before during her entire five years of practice? And what about the ketamine? Neve was a pragmatist with a healthy level of suspicion when it came to coincidences. Well, she was a pragmatist in her professional life. Her personal life? There, she was an unrealistic romantic. In short, an unmitigated disaster.
With a sigh, she flicked off the lights, leaving a blue glow to illuminate the space.
“I’ll see you in the morning. Okay, Mr. Whiskers? ”
In her office, her eight-year-old pit bull, Pearl, lifted her head and watched with vague curiosity as Neve pulled on her coat, knit scarf, hat, and gloves. Neve had rescued the dog from a life spent languishing in a crate day in, day out, in a home where no one wanted her. She marveled at how love and attention had transformed the dog. Pearl had entered Neve’s world scared and timid, with no muscle tone and a plethora of skin ailments. One year later, Pearl had become her best diva self, boasting a firm body and a glossy coat the color of buck suede. If only Neve could save them all. If only so many didn’t need saving …
“You’re in charge while I’m out, girlfriend. You have my permission to scare the pants off anyone who tries to break in and steal stuff.” Pearl gave a little snort, flopped her head back on her cushy fleece bed, and closed her eyes.
“Such a toughie,” Neve chuckled before stepping into the chilly evening. The air felt as though it were laced in ice crystals, and it nearly stole her breath. She yanked her collar tight around her scarf to keep frosty slivers from sliding down her neck and fought the hurricane-force wind as she walked the few blocks to the Miners Tavern. Though she’d lived in Fall River her entire life, she had never acclimated to the buffeting streams of air that nights like this one brought. Huffing and puffing, she expended twice the effort she would have needed on a calm summer day. But the town’s local watering hole beckoned with its golden light and gave her a surge of energy. Everyone she knew would be gathered there, including her tech. More importantly, Reece Hunnicutt would be there, and she was ashamed to admit seeing him meant more to her in this moment than talking to Lauren about the missing meds.
What kind of vet did that make her?
One who carried a lifelong unrequited love like an unyielding vise around her heart. But she was about to break its grip and bring it to its final—and long overdue—end.
She darted inside the tavern, letting the door slam behind her. She blinked, adjusting from the indigos outside to the high-ceilinged space awash in warm hues. The burble of people talking and laughing enveloped her like a cozy blanket.
“Come on in, Doc,” greeted the plump tavern fixture whose shiny fuchsia-and-burnt orange caftan billowed around her like a tent .
“Thanks, Dixie.” Neve scanned the dining room and bar. “I was hoping to find Lauren here. Have you seen her?”
“She’s come and gone already. Seemed to be in an awful hurry. Maybe she’s got herself a new man.” Dixie’s painted eyebrows disappeared beneath her brassy blond bangs.
Neve dialed her assistant’s number but only got her voicemail, so she sent her a text asking her to call.
“You in or out, Doc? Your bar stool’s calling.” Dixie prodded.
Neve glanced toward the bar and the people working behind it. “I’ll stay for a bit.” Dixie probably saw right through Neve’s fake nonchalance.
“That’s a girl. Your face is as blue as your scarf. Let’s get you warmed up, hon.” Dixie ushered Neve away from the entrance, tugging at her hat and coat as she steered her toward her favorite bar stool. Dixie was the bar’s manager, bartender, waitress, hostess, and the town’s mother hen, who knew every detail of every resident’s life—even ones the residents didn’t know themselves.
People called out greetings as Neve approached, but all her attention lasered in on the tall, broody bartender with soft brown hair flopping over his forehead and eyes the color of moss on an ancient tree stump. He flicked those eyes her way for a nanosecond—the barely there acknowledgment he typically gave her—before returning his gaze to the woman chatting him up across the bar top. Veiled impatience was etched in the creases around his full mouth. Neve recognized that look because she’d stared at him virtually her entire life. Every little scar on his face was inventoried in her permanent memory banks—she’d even caused one right above his left eyebrow—and unfortunately for her, they only emphasized his gorgeous ruggedness.
He was working behind the bar, helping his brother Noah—who also happened to be the owner—and Neve knew from years of reading Reece’s every expression that he simply wanted the woman to give him her order. He didn’t warm to her dazzling smiles, her flirty gestures, or her ridiculously obvious come-on. Beyond the exchange that would tell him what she wanted to drink, Reece had no interest in talking to her—or sleeping with her, which gave Neve a perverted lift.
At least the man who’d made Neve’s pulse race for more years than she could count wasn’t in the habit of sleeping around … which meant he didn’t find those potential partners any more attractive than he found her .
So there was that.
She shrugged out of her bulky winter gear, spread her coat across the stool, and lifted her butt onto it.
Noah was also working this evening, and he gave her a chin lift and a grin from the other end of the bar, which she returned. Apparently, Neve was in Reece’s section tonight. Of course she was, because that’s how the universe liked to remind her of what she couldn’t have. But after tonight, Reece would be off her menu of choices. Then again, he’d never been a choice. A bitter fact she had finally come to terms with.
And now she was moving on, giving up the ghost, taking back her heart. End of story.
Why now? Because she was a week away from turning thirty-two, and damn it, she wanted to get on with sharing a home, a family, and a white picket fence with someone who would make her toes curl in bed too. A tall order in this town, she reminded herself as she looked around at the familiar faces she’d grown up with.
She’d dated most of the eligible bachelors in the crowd since high school—all fifteen of them—and while many had been willing to take things further, she’d never felt a spark like she did for Reece. How sad was it that the man she’d been keeping herself single for had never gotten the memo? Or he had in fact gotten it and put it in the recycling bin?
Ugh.
Instead of spending cold nights cozied up in front of a crackling fire, she spent her nights at her clinic or at the Miners Tavern, alone on her virtual island while surrounded by a sea of lifelong friends.
Reece slapped a coaster on the bar top in front of her, jarring her back to her solo existence. “Margarita with salt?”
Those earthy eyes held hers, but they were shuttered, guarded, letting nothing out and allowing nothing in. The windows to his soul were closed tighter than usual. Did it have something to do with his recent hiatus from search and rescue? The reasons he’d left behind his lifelong passion were shrouded in mystery, even in a small town where everyone knew what color underwear you were wearing that day.
It was also around that time he’d sold his house, a huge rambling thing on the edge of Fall River that some out-of-stater had wanted for a vacation home. Other would-be buyers had approached Reece in the past, but he had ignored them all until now. Coincidence? Maybe, though Neve doubted it . The bottom line: Reece was not only jobless, but he was virtually homeless. He had completely upended his life.
Reece cleared his throat, reminding her he was waiting for an answer. “Not tonight. I’d like a shot of Hornitos with lime and salt.”
He raised an eyebrow, and his lips quirked inside his soft beard. At least it looked soft. “You sure about that? Might be a little harsh.”
“Of course I’m sure. I can’t afford the Don Julio or”—she waved a hand at the bottles lining glass shelves behind him—“the other good stuff.” She had so little experience with high-end liquors that she couldn’t even name them.
And here her other dilemma reared up. Her clinic was struggling—had been since day one—but beginning half a year ago, mysterious bank deposits had been coming in on the second of each month, and she hadn’t figured out the identity of her benefactor. The bank wouldn’t give it up, even though she had an “in” with the manager, a former schoolmate. Ha! So much for “tight-knit.”
The donations lurked in the back of her mind, a constant buzz of questions. Their timing had been impeccable. If they hadn’t started rolling in, she wasn’t sure she could have kept her doors open. Which led her to wonder what would happen if they stopped. Could she ever make enough to repay the debt? She wasn’t expected to, she’d been told by her banker buddy, but repayment was the right thing to do. But to whom would the money go? Where was it coming from? What anonymous philanthropist did she know who understood her predicament, had that kind of money to throw around, and had decided to direct their altruism her way?
A giggle from the far end of the bar had both Reece and her swiveling their heads. Noah had pushed his fiancée, Hailey, into a corner and was tugging on her ponytail. She gave him a dreamy smile right before he stole a kiss.
“Hey, get back to work, you two!” Reece barked.
Noah, whose back faced them, flew Reece the bird over his shoulder. “My bar. I get to do what I want.”
“Then keep it PG for the kiddies.”
“There aren’t any kiddies,” Neve pointed out.
“Technicality,” Reece returned without looking at her.
“Them two just can’t wait until the big day,” Dixie clucked beside Neve. The woman had a way of appearing and disappearing without a sound, which Neve had found unsettling once upon a time, but she’d grown used to it. Dixie’s ability to move through time and space was probably why she knew everything that went on in their little town.
Neve propped her elbow on the bar. “Does this mean that after the ‘big day,’ when they’re old married folks, they’ll stop pawing at each other?”
“We can only hope,” Reece muttered.
Dixie popped him with a bar towel. “We need to find you someone you can love on. That’ll take the grumpy out of your pants.”
“That’s not all it’ll take out of his pants,” Noah snickered.
A talon of envy sank into Neve’s heart as she pictured some strange woman in Reece’s arms.
Dixie turned her head toward Neve and gave her a knowing wink, though Neve had no clue what Dixie thought she knew. “As for pawing at each other, me and my man have been married nearly forty years, and we still paw plenty.”
Reece dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Stop with the visual!”
She tapped the bar top with a long, wicked pink nail. “Like I said, Reece Hunnicutt, you need someone to keep your hands busy. Going home to a cold bed every night ain’t so good for a man’s lifespan.”
“I have to agree with the waitress,” his female bar customer purred. “I hate to see a man’s life shortened when the solution is right in front of him.”
Neve suppressed an eye-roll. Dixie did roll her eyes and mumbled something that sounded very much like, “I didn’t mean you , floozy,” before flouncing away.
Reece turned his attention back to the pushy woman, offering her a closed-mouth smile. His polite smile. The one he used when he wasn’t feeling it, which was ninety-five percent of the time. Oh yes, Neve knew that about him too.
In fact, she knew way too much about Reece Hunnicutt—except what his lips felt like against hers, and that was an unfulfilled fantasy that would follow her to the grave. But it was also reality, as was the fact she would never know his intimate touch. Assuming he had one. Outside of his family, Reece was a loner and always had been. Since they’d been toddlers, she’d only known him to have one girlfriend—the high school prom queen, who’d dumped him for the prom king—which was probably what had fueled her belief that she could be that special one someday. So much wasted time.
Tonight that illusion was coming to a stop. She was over it. Over him . Unrequited love sucked. From now on when she looked at him, she would see only the guy who regularly scaled mountains to save people, not the green-eyed hunk who made her heart gallop like a stallion.
Hailey delivered Neve’s shot with a grin. “Cutting right to the chase tonight, huh?”
“Yeah, why bother with margarita mix when you have the full-strength ingredients at your fingertips?”
Hailey looked around, then dropped her head and her voice. “So? Did you try it on?”
“I’m so sorry, but I haven’t had time.”
Hailey straightened, and her disappointment pulsed like a beacon on her pretty face. “Oh, of course. I should have realized … I know how busy you are with the clinic.”
Neve’s mind wandered to the bridesmaid dress currently hanging in her office closet. It was the same inky blue as the night sky and would probably look terrific with her blond hair and blue eyes, but she couldn’t muster the excitement. Was she a bad person because she felt a twinge of self-pity over having to wear yet another bridesmaid dress? Practically every girl she’d grown up with had married—at least once—and her closet was full of space-sucking fluff that taunted her every time she opened it. They seemed to reproduce on a regular basis, but she didn’t dare donate them. Those brides might shop in the local thrift store and see their tulle-and-chiffon numbers sagging from a hanger, and then she’d be outed as a crappy friend.
Then again, maybe people would stop asking her to be in their weddings.
Not that she minded Hailey and Noah’s nuptials. These two were made for each other, and Neve was thrilled that despite the hurdles they’d placed in their own way, they had finally let themselves fall. Hailey’s happy bubbles were infectious, like champagne overflowing a flute. Noah’s goofy lovestruck smiles whenever he looked at Hailey gave Neve hope someone was out there who would look at her the same way one day .
She placed her hand over Hailey’s. “As soon as I finish this drink, I’m heading back to the clinic. I must pick up Pearl, and I’ve got a sick kitty to check on, so I’ll try it on then and send you a selfie, okay?”
“Okay.” Hailey beamed her a warm smile and pivoted to fill a drink order.
“How are the preparations coming?”
“Moving right along.” Hailey made a sailing motion with her hand. “I can’t believe their other event fell through and we were able to snag a slot at Silver Summit.”
Silver Summit was a luxury resort ten miles south of Fall River. Uber fancy in an idyllic mountain setting. They were lucky indeed, though Neve suspected the mighty Hunnicutt pull had something to do with that “slot” becoming available.
“It’s going to be gorgeous.”
“I know!” Hailey clapped her hands before heading toward the other end of the bar.
Neve sprinkled salt on the webbing between her thumb and index finger, licked it off, tossed back the shot glass’s contents, and bit into a lime wedge as the liquid burned its way to her stomach.
The alcohol sent waves of warmth down to her legs, to her toes, and she closed her eyes, relishing the sensation.
“Refill?”
She blinked, and her gaze met Reece’s piercing moss-green one. A different sensation raced along her limbs, one that was both familiar and unwelcome. She was cutting herself off from her Reece Hunnicutt addiction, she reminded herself, and this dopamine surge wasn’t working in her favor.
Straightening her sweater, she shook her head. “Nope. I’m good. What are the damages?”
He planted his splayed hand, palm down, on the bar top. “You just got here.”
“And I got my bracer. Now I’m ready to head back into the cold, so I’d like to close out my tab.”
“It’s covered.”
“Who’s covering it?”
“I am.”
“What? Why? ”
He waved her off.
“I’m serious, Reece. I don’t want you paying for my drink.”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
She rolled her eyes. “Forget it.” Since they’d been kids, they had decided many an argument with a battle of rock, paper, scissors. Neve had yet to win. “Thank you,” she grumbled in defeat.
“You’re welcome.” He canted his head, his gaze unwavering, his expression revealing nothing. “How are you getting home?”
Not a question he normally posed, but hey, he did rescue drunk dumbasses as part of his work with search and rescue, so she supposed asking was simply hardwired in him. Not that she was drunk. No, after years of practice, she could hold her liquor way beyond one measly shot.
“Don’t worry. I’m walking, like I always do.”
He lifted his chin toward a window and the dark blue backdrop beyond it. “Storm’s on its way. The temperature’s got to be in the teens by now.” A typical November night in the Colorado mountains at ten thousand feet above sea level. “And you haven’t had anything to eat.”
Why was he suddenly concerned? What was his deal? And then it hit her. Reece was an adrenaline junkie, and he was suffering from withdrawals. That had to be it. He was tuned into nights like this one because these were the kinds of nights where he was called into action, and no action was coming his way.
She tugged at the coat beneath her bottom. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk faster and keep my body temperature up so I don’t fall over and freeze to death on the sidewalk.”
His eyes flared wide, and realization slammed her like a hundred-pound Bull Mastiff.
He had discovered an old woman dead on the sidewalk right in front of the Miners Tavern, not fifty feet from where he now stood. Neve had just unwittingly plucked a devastating memory from the vault where he kept his many disturbing images locked away.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He held up his hand. “It’s all good.” He ducked his head and looked away, but before his eyes left hers and wandered to the woman who wanted more than a drink from him, they went dark. Her heart squeezed. God, what she wouldn’t give to be eight years old and racing him across the ice rink or down the face of a ski slope again. Back then, she hadn’t needed to be so guarded. Back then, she could have said whatever popped into her brain without worrying that it was the wrong thing. Back then, he hadn’t been so broody, and she hadn’t been so socially klutzy around him.
His forced smile in place, Reece gave his chitchatty customer his undivided attention. Neve took the opportunity to slide her coat back on, send a wave in Hailey’s direction, and march toward the door before Reece could ask any more questions that would throw Neve off her game—assuming she had a game.
She scurried along the icy sidewalk until she reached the edge of the block, where the glow of the streetlights dimmed. Back inside the clinic, she flipped on a light just as Pearl came to greet her, tail wagging and claws click-clacking on the vinyl-covered concrete floor.
“Nice of you to get up.” Neve pulled off her scarf and tiptoed toward the recovery area with Pearl quietly following behind. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the rhythmic rise and fall of Mr. Whiskers’s chest as he slept.
She and Pearl returned to her office, where she pulled out the plastic-encased bridesmaid dress.
“Why did I promise Hailey I’d send her a selfie tonight ? I’m so not in the mood to trade my warm clothes for this strappy number.”
Pearl sat on her haunches and tilted her head.
Her phone let out a muffled ring, and she fished it out of her coat pocket. The number wasn’t familiar. Maybe it was the injured cat’s owner. Either way, she welcomed being saved by the bell.
“This is Neve Embry.”
“Hey, I was hoping I’d catch you,” came a silky baritone she couldn’t quite place. “It’s Leo Cantrell. From the Silver Summit Resort.” Her brain took in this information, trying to slip it into the right array, but apparently its processing was too sluggish because the silence stretched. He continued. “We met in line at the Peak-to-Peak Marathon this past summer? We chatted about your vet clinic while the search and rescue team dragged their heels getting everything set up.” After a pause, he quickly added, “You don’t remember me, do you?”
An image of coal-black waves brushing broad sculpted shoulders bared by an athletic tank drifted through her mind, followed by twinkling blue eyes and a devastating smile that popped a pair of dimples. Oh, she definitely remembered Leo. Who could forget tall, dark, and charming? Not to mention filthy rich.
She let out a nervous giggle that made her voice squeak like a teen’s. “Of course I do!” Wait. Why was he calling her? “Have you lost a male tabby?”
“A male … what?”
“I have an injured tabby cat at my clinic, and I’m trying to locate his owner.” She patted Pearl’s head when the pup nudged her hand.
“Ah. Not me.”
“Is someone sick? Hurt?”
More silence crackled through the line before he broke it once more. “Oh, you mean like a dog or cat. No, I don’t have any pets. I like animals, but I’m gone too much to be a good pet … parent.”
The next logical question was to ask the reason why he was calling, but it seemed rude to simply blurt it out. Fortunately, he answered the question himself.
“I’m calling because I’d like to take you to dinner sometime.”
Her brain short-circuited, and her jaw dropped open before she recovered. “Are you sure you have the right number?”
“You answered ‘Neve Embry,’ and that’s who I want to take to dinner, so I’m pretty sure I have the right number.”
“Um, like when?”
“How about now? I mean, if you’re done for the day. Are you hungry?”
“Oh! No! I mean, I-I just got back from the Miners Tavern, and I’m at the clinic and I have this sick kitty …” she stammered.
“A male tabby,” he offered. She didn’t miss the hint of amusement in his tone. “I get it. This is totally last minute, but I found myself with some unexpected free time, so I decided to take a chance, hoping you were available. How about tomorrow night?”
“Uh …”
“Or the night after that? I’ve thought about you a lot since that race, and I finally decided to screw up the courage and ask you out. Assuming you’re not already taken. You’re not, are you?”
She let another laugh slip. Partly because she was tickled by his direct, somewhat old-fashioned approach, and partly because she couldn’t picture Leo Cantrell “screwing up courage” to ask a woman out. They probably fell out of the roof rafters or pushed up through floorboards everywhere he went, at the ready to drop their panties, hoping for a shot at him. And there was another point in his favor: He had the air of a man who knew what the hell to do in bed, and boy, could she use some steam in her life. Maybe he could even teach her a thing or two.
“I’m flattered.” And she was. Leo Cantrell not only owned and ran Silver Summit, but he was also a hotshot mover and shaker. A nice one, according to the rumors. It wasn’t every day that men with millions falling out of their pockets not only noticed she existed , but seemed genuinely interested in spending time with her.
Why was she hesitating, then?
It was a stab of guilt holding her back, as if she were being unfaithful to a lover, except she had no lover to be unfaithful to. She was pathetically not taken.
Pushing aside her cockeyed conscience, she rushed to answer before she could change her mind. “I would love to go out with you tomorrow night.”
She could have sworn he hissed a “Yes!” under his breath, and happiness tickled just behind her breastbone. “Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“I’m looking forward to it, Leo.”
She hung up, her blood fizzing with anticipation, and her mouth stretched in a wide grin. Forgotten were the missing meds, the injured cat, and the encounter with Reece. Pearl looked up at her with a quizzical expression.
“No, I haven’t lost my mind. At least not completely,” she informed the dog.
How quickly the evening had turned. Neve had gone from lecturing herself about wasting time pining for a man who’d been making her hope for stupid lovesick stuff since she’d been in grade school to having a dinner date with a man who was pursuing her .
Was it any coincidence that Leo asked her out at the same time she’d decided to bury her infatuation with Reece forever? Nope. No coincidence at all. The universe had heard her and sent her the ticket she needed to make that change once and for all, and that ticket was emblazoned with Leo Cantrell’s handsome face.
Wait. What if he was her benefactor?