Page 16 of The Perfect Distraction

Chapter Six

“What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.”

“I had to,” Christopher said, looking down at his shoes.

She could tell something was wrong, but she had no idea what it was. They were getting married in less than twenty-four hours, and she hadn’t expected to see him until she was walking down the aisle.

“Come on in,” she said, swinging the door open, but Christopher didn’t budge.

“Are you alone?”

She nodded, wondering why he was acting so strange.

She led him into the living room, and they sat on the couch, but she noticed Christopher sat further away from her than usual.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Dropping his head in his hands, he mumbled, “I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.”

Her heart sank, the blood rushed to her head, and she thought she was going to faint. All she could think was this must be a horrible nightmare and she’d wake up at any moment. Either that or Christopher was experiencing cold feet and he would get past it.

“I can’t marry you tomorrow feeling the way I do.” His head was still bent, so she couldn’t see his eyes, and it was killing her. Why wouldn’t he even look at her?

She squeezed her hands into fists so tightly that her freshly manicured fingernails dug into her palms, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she drew blood. “Where is this coming from?” she snapped, trying to keep from sounding hysterical, which was how she felt.

Finally, he looked up. “I’ve been feeling this way for quite a while, but I’ve been too scared to admit it. The truth is, I don’t love you the way a man should love the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. I’m sorry.”

Beth sprang off the couch, hands still clenched into fists, and shouted, “You’re sorry? Who does this the night before their wedding? And anyway, it’s supposed to be the bride who gets cold feet, not the groom! Haven’t you seen Runaway Bride?”

Christopher cracked a smile, but he quickly sobered, probably fearing for his life. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

Beth jolted upright in bed, her heart racing wildly and her skin damp with sweat. She expected to be in her bedroom at home, and it took her a moment to realize she was in Aunt Jenny’s cottage. Throwing the covers off, she took several deep breaths, attempting to calm herself.

It had been a few months since she’d had a nightmare about “the incident,” and she’d hoped they were gone for good. Last night’s nightmare must have been triggered by her conversation with Becca. As hard as she’d tried to keep the bad memories at bay, they’d crept back in, and she wondered when or if she’d ever be rid of them.

Taking another deep breath, she climbed out of bed and decided to go downstairs for something to drink. Too bad there’s no alcohol in the house. She took a quick glance at the clock and saw that it was after midnight. If this had been a weeknight during the school year, she would have been a zombie the next day. Thank God it was summer and she could sleep in as late as she wanted to.

She’d just opened the fridge when she heard a noise outside that sounded like it was coming from the porch. It sounded like…footsteps. Panicking, she glanced around for her phone and realized she’d left it upstairs. Her brain was still scrambled from the nightmare, and she froze, torn between running upstairs to hide or grabbing a makeshift weapon.

When a knock came at the kitchen door, she chose the weapon. Quickly pulling a steak knife out of the wooden block on the counter, she held it in front of her and advanced toward the door. As if one nightmare wasn’t enough, now she was living another. And this was supposed to be a quiet, friendly town!

“Beth? Are you in there?”

She sighed and set down the knife. Seconds later, she opened the door to see Colton standing there in gym shorts and a T-shirt that read: Best Dad Ever! Even in her highly emotional state, she invited him in, thinking it rude not to.

“Is something wrong?” she asked once he was standing in her kitchen. Is it my imagination, or does he look taller in here?

“You tell me. I heard shouting.”

“Shouting?”

“Yes, and it sounded like your voice. Then I looked out my window and saw an upstairs light on, so I came over to see if you were okay.”

His eyes wandered up and down her body, probably looking for signs of injury, and it was then that she realized what she was wearing. Or what she wasn’t—a bra! Her pajama set was made of thin cotton, and her nipples seemed to be happy to see him even if she wasn’t.

Quickly and not at all subtly, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” he said, his lips curving up into a slight smile.