Free The Goodbye Bride by Denise Hunter Page B

then? Some iced tea?” Surely she had iced tea.
    â€œNo thanks.”
    She followed him, fighting the insane urge to grab his shirt and drag him back. Or race ahead and throw herself in front of the door.
    But he didn’t want her. Didn’t love her anymore. He was eager to get back to his Lucyless Summer Harbor life. And what did she have? An unfamiliar apartment in a foreign city, a fiancé she didn’t remember, and oh yes, a gaggle of reporters on her front stoop. Panic rose in her throat, adding to the lump of emotion already knotting there.
    Zac opened the door and turned, looking down at her with his cool, steely eyes.
    Her feelings must’ve been written all over her face, because his eyes softened the smallest bit. “You’ll be fine. You know where you work, and you have your car and your money, and your . . . fiancé.”
    I don’t love him. I love you.
    â€œI left his number on the table. You should call him. He’ll help you get all this straightened out.”
    His words didn’t even register. She stared at him, mentally begging him to stay. Why was everyone always leaving her? What was wrong with her?
    Panic bubbled up, swelling inside. Her heart thrashed in her ears. Do not beg, Lucy Lovett. Do not.
    The softness was gone from his eyes. Now they were just cold, hard pewter. His jaw was set in a stubborn line, his lips pressed together. As much as she might want to curl up in his arms one last time, it would be like hugging a cold marble statue. And she didn’t think she could take one more rejection.
    â€œBe sure and lock up behind me,” he said in a tight voice. “Take care, Lucy.”
    Her lip trembled, and she caught it between her teeth and gave a little nod. It was all she could do.
    And then he was gone, the door falling shut in front of her as so many others had before.

Chapter 10
    Z ac pushed open the main door of Lucy’s apartment and plowed through the paparazzi.
    â€œWhere’s Lucy?”
    â€œCan we get your name?”
    â€œWhere’s she been since Saturday?”
    â€œAre you the reason she left Brad at the altar?”
    Zac clamped his lips under the barrage of questions, his eyes straight ahead. He made quick work of the ground between the building and his truck and was glad for the silence once he was inside.
    They were still on the stoop. He wasn’t important enough to follow. But Lucy was another matter.
    Not your problem.
    But the image of Lucy’s face as he’d left surfaced in his mind. Her skin pale and ghostly, her eyes flashing with panic.
    He pushed the image firmly away as he pulled from the curb. His heart fought a battle with his rib cage, and an achy feeling was swelling in his gut.
    She’s a grown woman. She’ll be fine.
    He turned on the radio as he accelerated onto the highway a few minutes later. A mournful country song bled into the cab, and he switched the station to something more upbeat.
    Lucy was where she belonged, and he was on his way back to normalcy. If normal wasn’t all that great, well, he could work with that. He’d been doing it since she’d left. Picking up the pieces was never fun. And if she’d put another dent in his heart, well . . . it would heal. Eventually. He’d forgotten the pull of her sweet Southern drawl, of her liquid blue eyes. The heady draw of her small hand in his.
    But she’d seemed so forlorn tonight. So lost as she looked around her unfamiliar apartment, her arms wrapped protectively around her waist.
    She has her fiancé. He’ll help her through this.
    He had to stop this. He turned up the radio and tried to lose himself in the country tune.
    It was late. Almost eleven. Time for the TV news, he realized. Would they cover Lucy’s story? Would everyone in the city soon be in Lucy’s business?
    â€œWhy’d you leave your wedding, Lucy? They’re calling you the Runaway Bride.”
    He frowned at the