Free Here Comes the Bride by Gayle Kasper Page A

didn’t need him charging up on his white steed to save her from some old hurt, from some man who’d wronged her. “Come on, Nick, let’s go and watch the street entertainers.”

SIX
    “Hurry, we’re going to be late.”
    Nick raced through the airport, Fiona panting along behind him. She didn’t want to do this, she didn’t want to meet Camille. If the woman was on this flight as Nick expected her to be, the wedding would be on again all too soon.
    But Nick wasn’t offering her much choice. His long legs carried him down the concourse. She had to hurry to keep up.
    Part of her was still back in Surprise, back in the idyll of their afternoon together. She didn’t want to be dragged back into the present—and the set of worries she’d temporarily put aside.
    The plane was already discharging its passengers by the time they reached the gatearea. Nick grabbed her hand and searched the crowd for a glimpse of his cousin.
    “Maybe she didn’t make the flight. Maybe she missed her connection in New York,” Fiona said.
    It was a hopeful wish, she knew, but a wish that would only put off the inevitable. Camille would be on this flight, or the next, if she missed this one.
    “There she is.”
    “Where?”
    Nick didn’t answer, only boomed, “
Camille!
”
    Fiona’s gaze threaded through the crowd to see which one of the milling passengers he was calling to. And then she saw her, recognizing her immediately from the picture on Nick’s desk.
    “Nick!” Camille had spotted him, too, and waved.
    Camille seemed to have stepped out of another era. Fiona smiled at the aura of the perennial flower child she projected in her loosely flowing skirts and her Birkenstocks.
    Her hair—long, dark tresses—trailed down to the curve of her derriere. Three travel-battered duffels hung from one thin shoulder. Other than the hint of a little jet lag, she had a lively face, full of emotion and feeling.
    And Fiona knew she liked her.
    It would be hard not to like Camille.
    “Am I too late?” Camille asked, wrapping her arms around Nick in a giant hug. “Did they do it, did they have the wedding without me?”
    “No, they didn’t,” Nick assured her. “You wanted them to wait, and they did.”
    She sighed in relief, then turned her smile on Fiona. “Hello, sister,” she said in a greeting that caught Fiona a little off guard.
    Sisters? That’s exactly what this wedding would make them, Fiona realized with a start. But Camille’s warmth was undeniable.
    “Hello, Camille,” she said, then they hugged like they were already family.
    Nick shouldered his cousin’s bags. “Is this all or do we need to stop by baggage claim?”
    “This is it.”
    Camille linked one arm through Nick’s, the other through Fiona’s, smiling first at one then the other.
    Their walk to the parking garage where Nick had left the car led them past the very baggage carousel where Fiona’s misadventure had begun. Had it been only a few short days ago?
    “You were smart to carry your own bags,” Nick said. “These things are rough on them.” He indicated the spinning silver monster that had nearly mulched his wicked pieces of underwear.“Remind me to tell you about it, cuz.”
    “Oh? Is this something I should know about?” Camille was instantly curious.
    He exchanged a look with Fiona, one only the two of them could share.
    “Let’s just say Nick had an intimate encounter with the thing,” Fiona remarked.
    “I want to hear about this,” Camille said, intrigued.
    But the story would have to wait. Nick escorted the two women into the garage and Auntie’s Mercedes parked nearby. Winnie and Walter had wanted to be part of the welcoming committee, too, but Nick couldn’t be sure Walter wouldn’t insist on driving. He’d left the pair at Auntie’s, blowing up bright “welcome home” balloons for Camille.
    Nick would like to skip the small impromptu party they had planned and spend tonight alone with Fiona. He’d enjoyed this