Beth Cornelison

The Prodigal Bride


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own volition, her hand lifted to her eye where Viper’s slap had left a small bruise. Mistake. Gage narrowed his gaze and pulled her closer to the bathroom light.

      “Gage, it’s nothing. Don’t—”

      He tensed, his mouth firming to a taut line. “Son of a—! He did hit you, didn’t he?”

      “Gage, chill. I’m okay.”

      Jamming a hand in his hair, he turned to stalk toward the bed where he dropped heavily onto the mattress. “It’s not okay, and you know it. A man never has the right to hit a woman.” His face paled, and his gaze shot back to hers. “Especially not a pregnant woman. Are you … Is it—”

      She grinned at his obvious discomfort with her pregnancy. “If my morning sickness is any indication, the baby’s fine. And for the record, morning sickness is a grossly erroneous term. I’m sick all day. All. Day. Especially when I don’t eat.”

      Gage dragged a hand down his stubbled cheeks, and the scratchy sound of his beard abrading his palms sent a tingle down her spine. Had his jaw always been that square? Zoey tilted her head and studied him. No, he definitely had a more masculine cut to his cheeks and chin now. And his exercise regimen with the fire department had helped his chest and shoulders fill out. Her breath caught in her lungs. Sexy filtered through her mind again before she could stem the absurd thought. This was Gage, for Pete’s sake.

      He lowered his brow in a scowl. “Stop looking at me like that. I know I look like crap. You told me that already. But I haven’t slept in more than forty-three hours.”

      Zoey straightened. “What? Why not?”

      He made a face that said the answer should have been obvious. “Like I was going to sleep before I found you. After driving through the night to get here, I spent the last twenty-two hours visiting every damn motel in Sin City with your picture, trying to track you down. When I explained the situation to one desk clerk, she suggested I try the shelters, too … which is what led me here.”

      A warm fuzzy feeling flooded her chest. “You mean you drove out here with no idea where I was and have been flashing my mug shot around all day to find me?”

      He gave a casual shrug.

      More tears pricked her eyes. Damn, but pregnancy made her emotional. “That is so Daniel Day Lewis from Last of the Mohicans. ‘Stay alive, whatever may occur. I will find you!’”

      He snorted. “Whatever.”

      Zoey laughed and rushed to his side, throwing her arms around him and pressing a kiss to his bristly cheek. “My hero!”

      He scoff-laughed. “Give me a break.”

      “You know that is my favorite movie of all time. You can’t tell me that scene didn’t come to you during the whole drive out here or anytime during your motel search.”

      “No, Zee. It didn’t.” He faced her, his eyes a shade darker than normal. Under his piercing stare, her stomach performed a giddy flip-flop. “I was way too preoccupied with wondering if I would be too late to help you, deciding what to do once I found you, what to do if I didn’t find you …”

      She squeezed his hand between hers and gave him her brightest smile. “You are the dearest, sweetest guy ever. I’m so lucky you’re my friend.”

      A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he shifted his gaze away. “Yeah, well …”

      Shoving to her feet, Zoey tugged his arm and hauled him off the bed. “Speaking of which … if you want to help me, I’ll tell you what you’re going to do. You’re going to take me to the nearest restaurant that has cheeseburgers and buy me lunch. I’m famished!”

      Gage rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Yeah, okay. But then can I nap for a while? I think I could sleep for a week.”

      “Yes. You can sleep when we get back,” she said with a laugh. “Whatever you want. I’m so glad to see you, I’d French-kiss Wayne Newton if you asked me to.”

      Gage staggered toward the door with a groan. “Please, don’t. I’m really tired of seeing you hook up with guys who are all wrong for you.”

      Gage watched Zoey wolf down a cheeseburger and fries, and he listened patiently as she filled him in on the details of how Derek the Ass had used her and left her stranded.

      “How am I supposed to face my family?” Her voice warbled as she dragged a French fry through mustard—that habit still turned his stomach—and sent him a look of misery. “My dad all but disowned me. My sisters have their perfect lives with men who actually love them, and my mom will want to fuss over me like I’m some errant child who can do nothing but mess things up,” she scoffed. “And maybe that’s who I am. The family screwup. The problem child. I can’t blame them for being ashamed of me.”

      Gage sat straighter and scowled at her. “Your family is not ashamed of you, Zee. They love you, no matter what.” Just like I do. He bit his tongue. He’d almost said the last aloud. And wouldn’t that send her running for the hills, screaming?

      “Maybe before. But this time … I really messed up. I’m knocked up and broke. Not a lot to be proud of there. My dad was right about Derek. So how do I go home with any dignity at all?”

      “Well, maybe you don’t.” He jabbed at the ice in his glass with his straw, watching her expression carefully. “Maybe you go home with humility and a lesson learned.”

      “If I didn’t have to put my baby’s needs first, I’d stay here and work as a topless cocktail waitress in some dive rather than be a burden and humiliation to my family.”

      Gage knew her well enough to know she wasn’t serious, but he still pictured her delivering drinks topless … and his libido kicked hard. Then he imagined the grubby drunks she’d be serving ogling her, and his blood pressure spiked.

      She gave a humorless laugh. “Can’t you just see that? Me, pregnant out to here—” she held her hand a foot from her belly “—and serving drinks topless?”

      Gage gritted his teeth. “Not gonna happen, Zee. I won’t let it.”

      She slumped back in the booth, and he mentally prepared to deliver the speech he’d prepared on his twenty-five-hour drive from Lagniappe. He rubbed his scratchy eyes, wondering if he ought to wait until he’d slept to launch into this discussion.

      The very real possibility that she’d hate his idea and turn it down stirred a drumbeat of caution in his chest. The last time they’d taken their friendship in a new direction, he’d nearly lost her. Her rejection had cut a wide, deep swath that still ached on days like today. The plan he’d devised was risky, but he’d take the chance of getting hurt again if it would help Zoey.

      He’d do anything for Zee, even put his heart on the line.

      “Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, nodding toward his half-eaten pizza. The other half sat like a rock in his gut.

      “I’m not hungry. I ate earlier.” Gage shoved his napkin under the edge of his plate and took a deep breath. “I have an idea, but before you answer me, I want you to hear me out. Okay?”

      She wrinkled her nose as she munched a French fry, a mannerism he remembered from high school that meant she was skeptical but curious. “Okay. What?”

      He pressed his palms on the table and met her gaze. Her bright jade eyes held such open trust and affection that he almost balked. What if he screwed this up and she got hurt?

      “I’ve been thinking about your situation—and mine—and I think we can help each other.”

      More nose scrunching. “Help each other how?”

      “What if there was a way for you to go back to Lagniappe and face your family with your head high and your future secure?”

      She arched a copper eyebrow and propped her elbows on the table.