Either way, there was probably time for Natalie to touch up her makeup before she left the inn. Once inside her room, she grabbed her lipstick and headed over to the antique mirror on the wall.
Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she called distractedly, still focused on her lipstick. It was probably one of the bridesmaids looking for Band-Aids or bobby pins or something Natalie was known to carry with her.
“Natalie,” a deep, hoarse voice said. Reflected in the mirror, she saw Jonathan standing in the door in his tuxedo, a strange look on his face.
She whipped around. “What’s wrong?”
“Is it true?”
“Iswhattrue?”
“Is Marigold…married?”
Oh. My. God.“What are you talking about?” Natalie asked, stalling for time. She needed to figure out how much he knew before she said something she’d regret.
He shut the door behind him, then took a few steps forward. “Please, you have to tell me the truth.”
“What’s going on? Did you talk to Marigold?”
“I called her Maine lawyer, that guy Bruce, to ask if all our paperwork was finally in order, and he told me that we were all set because Marigold had submitted newdivorcepapers.” Jonathan shook his head as if he couldn’t believe those wordshad just come out of his own mouth. “So tell me, is it true? Did Marigold fly to Canada the day before our wedding to finalize a divorce?”
Natalie froze in painful horror, torn between her loyalty to Marigold—her best friend, who’d welcomed Natalie into her family, who kept a set of pj’s and an emergency stash of ice cream at her apartment to cheer Natalie up after bad dates—and her loyalty to Jonathan, who was, in a sense, her other best friend, and who deserved to know the truth. “Yes,” Natalie said finally. “It’s true. She eloped with this guy in Canada a few years ago and then divorced him. It all happened before she met you. But there was some mishap with the paperwork, so she had to meet up with him to… handle it.”
Jonathan lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t understand. Why did she keep all this secret?” His voice was shaky.
Natalie walked over to the bed, hesitated a moment, then sat down next to him. “I’m not sure… but I think she was afraid. She worried that you’d think less of her, knowing she’d done this impulsive thing.”
Jonathan’s head jerked up. “I wouldn’t have cared at all! You know that. How couldshenot know that? We’ve all done things we regret. But keeping a secret like that for our entire relationship? And then lying about leaving the country to see her ex the day before our wedding? That’s…” He trailed off.
“I know it sounds bad, but she loves you so much. I think… I think she just got in over her head.”
“I knew something was off,” Jonathan whispered, more to himself than to Natalie. “Nothing about that birth certificate story made sense, but I think I was afraid to face it.”
He stood and began to pace around the room. “Does she still have feelings for this guy? Did she want to see him one last time before she madeanothermistake marrying me?”
“No way,” Natalie said. “I get that you’re upset, but Marigold loves you. You know she does!”
“This isn’t how you treat someone you love.” Jonathan’s pacing took on a frantic quality, like an animal trapped in a cage. “Why’d she think she had to hide this from me? She could’ve told me on our first date,Hey, by the way, I’ve been married before, and I would’ve been like,Cool, no problem. Hell, she could’ve told me aweekago and we would’ve figured it out! But keeping it from me? And then sneaking off to another country to hide the evidence? How could I marry someone capable of that?”
“Okay, just take a breath.” Natalie hurried over to him and grabbed his arm. “I get that you’re freaking out, but you need to breathe.”
Natalie expected him to shake her off, but as he looked at her, his expression changed. “I’ve made a huge mistake,” he said, his voice softening. “I’m marrying the wrong woman.”
Natalie froze. Whatever synapse was in charge of sending words from her brain to her mouth seemed to have snapped. All she could do was stare at Jonathan. Then he lowered his head and leaned forward until his lips brushed against hers.
And then she was frozen no more. Just the opposite, in fact. Every nerve came to life as a current of heat sizzled through her body until she couldn’t help but melt into him. Her lips parted as she kissed him back, sighing as her mouth yielded to his, as his hands wrapped around her and pulled her deeper into him.
“What the hell?!”
Jonathan sprang back as both he and Natalie spun to face the door, where Marigold stood, staring at them, eyes wide with disbelief. “Oh my god,” Natalie whispered, while Jonathan muttered, “Shit, shit,” under his breath.
Without another word, she turned and ran out of the room, door slamming behind her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHTMarigold
Well, this is a fine kettle of fish, Marigold thought—a phrase she’d learned from Jonathan—as she ran down the stairs, out the side door of the inn, and into a small, scraggly “garden” that was mostly used to store empty flowerpots and bags of soil. She was desperate to get as far away from Jonathan and Natalie as possible. But the lobby was full of wedding guests who’d certainly notice a distressed-looking bride running out the front door, especially one who wasn’t dressed for a wedding that was meant to start in forty-five minutes, so this semisecluded garden would have to do for now.
