Abby Gaines - The Wedding Plan

Lucas’s mom had died when he was twelve, and Dwight had remarried in less than six months. Merry could easily imagine Lucas doing the same.

“If anything, I’m the one who should apologize,” she said. “Frankly, Lucas, given how upset you were, my behavior was predatory.”

His shout of laughter startled her.

“Merry Wyatt, sexual predator,” he mused, and she felt a sliver of relief at the release of tension.

“At the very least, I was exploitative.” She scuffed her sneaker in the sand.

“Don’t talk dumb,” he said. “I’m pretty sure I started it.”

He hadn’t, but she didn’t argue.

If only he’d turned her down before she was naked. Then she could have accepted the “too complicated” excuse without a qualm. As it was, for weeks she’d wondered, Was it something specific? My breasts, or my legs? Or did I just not turn you on?

They’d reached the stick she’d thrown for Boo. Lucas bent to pick it up with his left hand. He was right-handed.

“How’s your injury?” she asked to change the subject.

“Never better.” He let his hand swing freely at his side. Which, judging by the tightening of his jaw, caused him pain.

Stupid hero complex.

What kind of guy would want to go back to the place where he’d suffered such horrible injuries? A guy like Lucas, who couldn’t help jumping in and saving the world.

Boo nudged Merry’s thigh. She noogied his head, the way he loved. He rewarded her with a rasp of his tongue on her wrist.

“Your dad doesn’t seem too well,” Lucas said. His turn to change the subject, it seemed.

“He gets tired more easily,” she agreed. “Anyone would find five years of dialysis wearing.”

“You should get him to a doctor.”

Oh, honestly. Did he think no one was monitoring the dialysis? “Dad has regular checkups.” Before Lucas could ask, she said, “I’m not sure when the next one is.”

“Merry, your dad’s in pain. Severe pain. I know the signs.”

A chill swept her, borne on the fall breeze. “No, he’s—It’s just the doctors can’t manage his kidney condition when his blood pressure’s so high.” A sudden prickle behind her eyes made it hard to continue. “But they can’t seem to get his blood pressure down. His doctor thinks it’s emotional stress.”

“What emotional stress would he have?”

“Dad’s not the kind to talk about his worries,” she admitted. “But the past six months, I’ve caught him several times just sitting in a kind of trance.”

All she had to do was speak, and he’d snap out of his private thoughts, but still, those moments worried her. She wasn’t used to him not telling her everything. But she didn’t want to discuss this with Lucas. Didn’t want him to see how scared she was. Dad’s got through everything else. He’ll get through this, too.

“We’ve had a really mild fall,” she commented.

“So, what’s with this guy you’re dating?” Lucas asked. “This Patrick?” He whistled to Boo, who was nosing a pile of rotting seaweed. With one last sniff, the collie abandoned his find.

“He’s great,” she enthused. She wanted to say, He can’t get enough of my body. He thinks small boobs are gorgeous. He’s crazy about me. But that might sound a tad defensive. “He’s very romantic.” Despite it being true, Lucas didn’t look impressed. But then, he wouldn’t. “He’s a vet,” she added, babbling now.

“I already got that,” he said.

So he did.

“I think it might be serious,” she said.

His head snapped around. “Really?”

“Um, yes.” Patrick certainly talked as if it was. “Yes,” she said with more certainty. “It might be.”

“But your dad doesn’t like him, right?”

“That’s the one drawback,” she agreed.

“What’s wrong with the guy?” Lucas asked.

“He’s…” For one moment she wished Patrick was a different kind of guy. “Um, you know that Shakespeare quotation, ‘Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war?’”

“One of my favorites,” Lucas deadpanned.

Entirely possible, given his penchant for rushing to the rescue. Merry sighed. “Patrick’s the founder of the Dogs of Peace.”

“The what?”

“It’s a peace protest group.”

Lucas snorted a laugh.

Merry was all in favor of the laying down of arms and everyone loving their fellow man, et cetera. Truly. But it would be a lot handier if Patrick could devote himself to a different cause. Saving trees, for example. Trees needed protestors, too.

Her father might not have much respect for tree huggers, but he didn’t despise them.

“Patrick thinks the military is evil.” She ignored Lucas’s exaggerated gasp. “He believes he has a right to say so, and he likes to exercise that right. Often. Turns out Dad doesn’t appreciate free speech, not all the time.”

“Where did you meet this flake?” Lucas asked.

In the interest of winning the war, rather than every tiny battle, Merry bit down on the urge to extol Patrick’s wonderful, manly qualities. “He was protesting outside the submarine base in Groton.”

“With…the Dogs of Peace.” Lucas said the name as if it were a rat’s carcass that Boo had dragged in.

“Right,” Merry said. “Patrick’s a veterinarian. Dogs of Peace, get it?”

“Oh, brother,” Lucas muttered. “How long have you been seeing him?”

“Several months.” Since soon after that night in Baltimore, but that was sheer coincidence.

Lucas’s forehead cleared. “So, if you and Patrick are serious, you really are fine about that night we…”

“Totally.” Ugh, her voice went too high.

“That’s great, Merry, because I want us to stay friends.” His sudden smile was oddly boyish. It tugged at the same part of her that had been attracted to Vulnerable Lucas six months ago.

“I bet you do,” she said. “I probably know more of your faults than any other woman, and I’m still willing to talk to you.” Yes, remember his faults. That’ll help.

He grinned. “That goes both ways. Does Patrick know how bad you are at letting a guy look after you?”

She used to enjoy infuriating him during their childhood games. He would turn up to rescue her, claiming to have boarded the submarine where she was being held hostage. She would claim to have overpowered her captor, escaped the sub, then grabbed on to a passing dolphin that delivered her to shore. A scenario no dumber than his, which involved him sneaking into a submerged submarine.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like being looked after, it was more that she’d never liked Lucas’s reasons for wanting to protect her and everyone else in his path. It was nothing personal…and that was the problem.

“Patrick doesn’t need to save the world to feel good about himself,” she said. Wonderful though he was with animals, there wasn’t much chance of Patrick overdoing the rescuer instinct.

Lucas opened his mouth as if to argue. Then he paused, and said, “Since we’re okay, can I ask you a favor? I just came from my parents’ place.”

“Did you see Mia?” Merry asked. “Isn’t she adorable?”

He blinked. “Yeah, sure. Dad wants me to talk to you about whether I should be trying to get back to the Gulf.” Lucas sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe his father was relying on any opinion other than his own.

They’d reached the end of the beach; they turned and started back.

“Your dad’s a changed man,” she said. “I like him a lot better these days.”

Lucas didn’t look excited. “Could you tell him you think I should get a retest on the physical?”

“What if I don’t think that? What if I think it’s time you accepted reality and figured out what matters?”