Chapter One
The moment Bobbi Jo Barker uttered the word ‘yes’ she knew it was a mistake. And just like the first time she’d reached for that damn bottle of tequila—back when she was just fourteen—she knew it would bite her in the ass.
But she wasn’t fourteen anymore and she wasn’t dealing with the after effects of a cheap bottle of tequila. Nope. As her gramps Herschel would say, she was ‘all growed up’ and had been for a long time. So why the hell did she feel so scared?
Because you agreed to marry a man you don’t love.
Oh, right. There was that.
The panic that heated her insides reared its ugly head, and for a moment Bobbi was afraid all was lost. She was afraid that she wasn’t strong enough to do what she needed to do—marry Gerald Dooley, the man who could give her what she wanted—so she reverted to an old childhood remedy. She closed her eyes and counted.
One. She inhaled and shook out her hands.
Two. She exhaled and shook out her hands.
She repeated the process twice and still her nerves were hopping so badly that she was afraid she’d pass out, and that just wouldn’t do. Not today. Not today.
A knock at the door made her jump and for a moment she was frozen, her eyes wild as they took in the reflection in the mirror. What she saw should have reassured her. It should have told her that everything was going to be fine. Women who looked like the one in the mirror always ended up on top, didn’t they?
Didn’t they?
She supposed that if she was looking in from the outside, she could appreciate the stark beauty of the designer dress, the simplicity of the hair and the dramatic scope of the makeup.
But she wasn’t on the outside looking in. She was here in the moment, living the dream, as most of the women in her hometown of New Waterford would say. And yet she felt as if she was asleep, walking through a nightmare—a nightmare of her own making, mind you—but a nightmare all the same.
And the thing of it was, she would be right.
Oh God, when had everything started to feel so wrong? Dumb question because she knew the answer and since she had told herself that he was off limits today, she pushed the thought out of her mind.
“Bobbi, can I come in?”
No.
“The door’s open,” she said, happy to hear her voice was controlled. Not a hint of fear or anxiety in there. Nope. She had her shit together. This was good.
Today was going to be good.
She plastered a fake smile to her face and turned just as her sister Billie walked into the bedroom, a tall, slim vision in the crimson red dress Bobbi had ordered special from New York. Much to the chagrin of the local bridal boutique, but seriously, how could The Proper Topper, compete with New York couture?
“Wow,” Billie said, eyes wide, a grin on her face. “Sis, you look stunning. Like Hollywood stunning. Hell, you could give Betty a run for her money.”
At the mention of her other sister, Bobbi frowned, wondering where the third Barker triplet was, and, as if reading her mind, Billie shrugged. “She’s good today. Quiet. Non-dramatic. And I don’t think she’s had a drop of liquor, though” she glanced at the clock beside Bobbi’s bed. “It’s only three so things could change. There’s still time for her to get out of hand.”
“Don’t even think it,” Bobbi groaned, pressing neat, white tipped nails to her forehead.
Billie set her bouquet down on the bed—a trio of cream colored mini calla lilies that were all the rage in New York, or at least that’s what the bridal books and internet articles said—and crossed the room until she stood a few inches from Bobbi. The two sisters stared at each other in silence for the longest time, and when Billie cleared her throat, Bobbi held up her hand because she knew what was coming.
“Don’t say it Billie.” To say that her sister wasn’t fond of Bobbi’s fiancé, Gerald was an understatement.
To say that Billie didn’t give two shits about Bobbi’s wishes was also an understatement.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Billie asked quietly.
No.
“It’s not too late to change your mind.”
“Oh my god, Billie, can we drop this? It’s my wedding day for Christ sake.” Bobbi pushed past her sister and leaned into the mirror, fiddling with her pearl earrings—a gift from Gerald—as she sent major stink eye toward her sister.
Which Billie ignored. “But do you love him?”
Bobbi counted to three, even though she knew she should have kept on until at least ten, because her temper was beginning to boil. And the thing of it was, Bobbi prided herself on her control, on her absolute control of her emotions and the way she displayed them. But her sisters had always had a knack for getting under her skin, and these days it was Billie who continually pushed her. It was Billie who second guessed everything because, you know, the woman was in love, and that meant that she was an authority on the subject.
Billie Jo Barker and her happily ever after with Logan Forest.
Whatever.
Storybook romances didn’t happen for everyone. Bobbi had been down that road before and it had ended in disaster. Hell, disaster would be putting it mildly.
Bobbi took an extra breath—just to be safe—and turned to face her sister.
“Look Billie, I appreciate your concern but I wouldn’t be marrying Gerald if I didn’t love him.”
Wow. Good lie. She was getting good at this whole lying thing.
“I hope so.” Billie cocked her head to the side and arched her eyebrow in that way she had…that way that irritated the crap out of Bobbi. It meant that she was about to say something that would piss Bobbi off. “I just,” she bit her lip and shook her head. “I just don’t feel it, Bobbi. Not like before. Not like…”
“Not like Shane?” Bobbi bit out, angry that her sister had made her say his name. He was off limits. He had to be off limits, especially today. Didn’t Billie know that?
Billie’s expertly made up eyes narrowed, just a bit. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Not like Shane.”
“Well that would be a good thing because whatever it was that I had with Shane nearly destroyed me, Billie. You know that.”