Page 36 of Working for the Runaway Bride

My gaze lifts. He stands several feet away, but his presence fills the small room. I remember those broad hands on my waist. I remember being pressed against the Chevelle while his mouth moved over mine.

Heat coils through my stomach despite everything. Grayson looks at my dress. His gaze moves from the pearls along my bodice to the wide satin skirt before returning to my face. Something raw flashes in his eyes.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

The same words Jessica said. They sound different from him. They feel different.

“You shouldn’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“I’m supposed to marry your son.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going to.” I say.

His eyes sharpen. “Did he do something else?”

“He didn’t have to.”

“What changed?”

“I did. You. Everything.”

Grayson remains silent. I twist my fingers together. The bare spot where my engagement ring should be is hidden beneath my other hand.

“Jessica told me I could still leave,” I say. “I kept thinking about the money and everyone who came. I felt guilty. Carter knew that. He kept reminding me how much the wedding cost and how embarrassed our families would be.”

“Money isn’t a reason to marry someone.”

“I know that now.”

“You knew it before.”

“I didn’t let myself know.”

He glances toward the door. “Carter will be looking for you.”

“Let him.”

“I should tell him you’re safe.”

“Don’t.”

“Molly—”

“I don’t want to talk about Carter.”

“You kissed me five days ago,” I say. “Then you told me it couldn’t happen again.”

“It can’t.”

“You wanted it to.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”