He fought past his lack of speech and wondered if this was a hallucination. “Not if you don’t tell her.”
She sniffed. “You wish. I don’t want you to die of lung cancer. Don’t just stand there gaping. Help me up, I can barely move in this thing.”
And then she was just Gen again. His best friend, a general pain in the ass, and the most precious person in the world to him.
Wolfe moved fast and pulled her up. “Are you okay? Did you fall out the window?”
She rebalanced herself on those ridiculous heels and waved her hand in the air. “Yeah, I’m fine. My hips got stuck but I managed.”
She dusted off her pristine white dress as if jumping out of church windows were a normal occurrence. Damn, she was a hell of a woman. “Umm, babe? Are you pulling a runaway-bride thing? Or did you just want to confirm the fire exit worked?”
Her ballsy humor faded from her face. She tilted her chin up, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m in trouble. Will you help me?”
He kept his face calm even though his palms sweat. Something bad had happened, but right now she needed his head in the game. “We ditching the groom?”
“Yeah.”
Wolfe decided to play it like a big adventure. “Cool. I got you covered. Lose the shoes.”
She kicked off the killer stilettos. “Are there reporters out there?”
“No worries, this is a piece of cake. But we gotta move now. Take my hand.”
She placed her small hand in his and squeezed. Wolfe swore that even if he had to fight the whole Taliban, he was getting her out of here and to someplace safe. Discussion was for later. “My car is parked down the street, so we’re good. Follow me.”
He led her down the back steps, behind the rectory, and maneuvered through a perfectly formed line of flowering bushes. She paused in flight, wincing at the chips of mulch and gravel. “Ouch.”
“You’re such a girl. Here, you’re going too slow.” Wolfe heaved her up into his arms in a tumble of satin and lace and cut through some weeping willow trees.
“I can’t believe you parked so far away. That means you were late. Some best friend you are.”
“Be glad I was late. I’m saving your ass now.”
She gave a humph. He walked faster, sensing chaos and a complete breakdown not too far behind. If he didn’t get her out in time and anyone caught them leaving, it would be a virtual shitstorm. He ducked under a low-hanging branch, tracked through the backyard of a Cape Cod behind the church, and took a hard right. She stayed silent, and Wolfe bet he had two minutes before her crazy impulsive decision hit her and she said she’d go back.
But if something made her run, it was too important to ignore. The hell he’d take her back.
Finally, he spotted his black Mercedes convertible. He fished the keys out of his pocket, hit the alarm, and opened the door. “In.”
Another lower lip tremble. “Wolfe, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I should go back.”
“Do you want to marry him, Gen? Deep down, in your gut, where it counts?”
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. Shame and fear and humiliation etched out the lines of her face. Her voice broke on the word “No.”
He nodded and calmly pushed her in the seat. “Then you’re doing the right thing and we’ll work it out. I promise.”
She swallowed. Returned his nod. And slid into the car.
Wolfe wasted no time. He revved the engine and did a three-point turn, going out the back way and speeding away from the church like it was a devil’s sanctuary and their souls were at risk.
When they hit the open road and no one seemed to be following, he glanced over. She slumped in the seat, her hair hanging halfway down her neck, her graceful profile carved in stone. She stared out the window as if she was watching her life dissipate behind her. And in a way, it was.
Knowing what she needed the most right now, Wolfe hit the speaker system and Guns N’ Roses blasted out, hard and loud and raw. He didn’t speak.
Just drove.
Three
WOLFE PULLED THE car into the Walmart parking lot and cut the engine. The probe of his gaze touched her face, but she was too weary to smile. After all, she never had to hide her real feelings with him. And right now she was about to go full-fledged mental if she didn’t get out of her wedding gown.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Want a soda? Water?”
Gen nodded. “Water would be good.”
“Keep the doors locked. The windows are tinted, so no one should see you.”
She blinked, trying to focus on the charred embers that now composed her life. “I left my phone. I have to tell them I’m safe.”
“We will. Just hang tight for a minute. Okay?”
She nodded again and watched him walk into Walmart. He got a bunch of stares from the teenyboppers milling around in the lot. Wolfe always got stares, but in a tuxedo he was lethal. With that tall, muscled body and wicked tattoo, he had bad boy wanting to be tamed stamped all over him. So different from David, with his angelic good looks and smooth charm.
David.
The full horror of what she’d done slammed through her. She’d run away and left him at the altar. The man she claimed to love. Her boss and chief of the surgical unit where her entire career was carved out. All of her stuff had been moved into his apartment. They held tickets for a Bermuda honeymoon. Her parents were probably sobbing, humiliated, and angry with her. Izzy was the one who brought stress—not her. Gen was the good one. The smart one. The one who never, ever caused any trouble.
What was she going to do? How could she go back to her life?