BREAK OF DAY - OUT IN AUGUST
Chapter One
Piper
“I, Elizabeth White, take this man…”
Hold it together, Piper. Just hold it together.
I clutched the bouquet of roses with white-knuckled fingers, pressing my lips together so hard they hurt as my heart thumped wildly in my chest and my veins raced with ice water. I tried to focus on my roommate, Beth, standing on the beach in front of me, looking ridiculously radiant in her simple white dress with its empire waist, baby blue flowers woven into her long blond hair. Tried to focus on the look in her eyes as she gazed adoringly at her soon-to-be-husband, Jake “Mac” MacDonald. A look that was truly breathtaking.
Or would have been, anyway, had I had any breath left in my lungs.
“To be my lawfully wedded husband.”
It’s almost over. It’ll be over in a second.
I stole a glance at the ocean behind me, then immediately wished I hadn’t. The vast emptiness of the blue-black waters seemed to throb and undulate menacingly, taunting me as they stretched out to meet the distant horizon.
Some people thought the ocean was beautiful. Peaceful.
Some people were fucking crazy.
“To have and to hold from this day forward…”
The nausea rose to my throat again and I struggled to breathe, turning back to the bride and groom, trying to focus on them—to ignore the icy horror licking at my feet. When Beth had first asked me to be her maid of honor I’d been over the moon. And I’d accepted the job before she told me the rest of her plans. That it would be a simple ceremony.
On the beach.
By the water.
“For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer.”
In other words, my worst nightmare, come true.
Just keep your eyes on Beth and Mac. Pretend you’re in a church.
But a church didn’t have crashing waves, thundering in your ears. The sting of salt stabbing at your nose. Your skin—Oh God, why had Beth insisted on bare feet?—didn’t crawl with sticky, prickly sand. The wind gusted, whipping my copper curls in my face. I reached up to swipe them away…
“In sickness and in health…”
“Shit!”
I shrieked—practically jumping out of my skin—as a sudden wave rose up and splashed me from behind, soaking the back of my dress. I staggered, nearly falling over backward as panic rioted through me.
And everyone in the audience burst out laughing
My face burned as I desperately tried to pull myself back together. To brush it off. To not run away screaming in the other direction. To not ruin my best friend’s big day.
It was just a wave, I scolded myself. Everything’s fine. No big deal.
But then…Michael had probably thought that once, too.
My mother definitely had when she’d left him in my care.
Piper! Wake up!
Where’s your brother?
Darkness. Black water. Desperate splashing.
Where the HELL is your brother?
“Till death do us part.”
My stomach heaved, black spots swimming before my eyes. My knees buckled out from under me, my pulse racing out of control, my heart practically bursting through my ribcage.
I had to get out of here. I had to get to higher ground.
Where it was safe.
Where I could breathe.
Where I could--
“Easy, Red.”
A deep, velvety voice jerked me back to the present, strong hands gripping my arms from behind. I whirled around, to find none other than Mac’s best man, News 9 meteorologist Asher Anderson, standing behind me.
Literally the only thing, at that moment, keeping me standing.
Shit, shit, shit.
I glanced around, realizing, horrifyingly that the beach had fallen silent. The minister had stopped the ceremony. Everyone was staring at me. I bit my lower lip, my heart still burning hot in my chest. From the corner of my eye I could see Beth turn, concern clouding her face. She took a step toward me…
“Hey, don’t stop now, Preach. You’re almost to the good part.”
What?
Asher’s voice crashed over the beach, like another errant wave and everyone laughed again, though thankfully this time at him and not me. As I stared at him, dumbfounded, he winked then turned to Beth.
“And you, runaway bride,” he added in a scolding voice. “Get back over there with your man. He’s done with you yet.”
More laughter, followed by a spattering of applause. Beth shot me a doubtful look, but I managed to give her a weak smile and a shaky thumb’s up. She shook her head, as if she didn’t quite believe I was okay, but thankfully returned to Mac’s side.
And the wedding resumed where it had left off.
Thank God. I nearly collapsed in relief. I probably would have, in fact, if it hadn’t meant falling like a ragdoll into the arms of Asher Anderson.
Asher Anderson of all people. Ughhhh.
You gotta understand. Asher wasn’t your typical local news weatherman. The guy was practically So Cal royalty. His mother’s family had owned News 9—my employer—since its very first broadcast and his father was beloved, legendary meteorologist Stormy Anderson, whose early prediction of the 1980 Mission Valley flooding had saved countless lives. Dad had retired three years ago after an auto accident had put him in a wheelchair and his son had taken on the Doppler 9000 in his stead, becoming the golden boy of not only News 9 but pretty much the entire San Diego community.
In other words, when Asher Anderson did something, people usually noticed. And I really didn’t need them noticing me now. Not at this particular moment—far from my finest hour.
In front of half of the suits at News 9.
I stifled a groan. It was ironic really; here I’d been trying to get the attention of the News 9 bosses for months now, the invisible worker bee in the giant newsroom hive. Now I’d finally managed to make an impression. Unfortunately, not that of a girl who had been working tirelessly in the trenches for more than a year, trying to prove herself worthy of a promotion. But rather a total freak, who had the nerve to disrupt their star reporter’s big day, by flipping the fuck out over a teeny, tiny wave.
By needing Golden Boy to save the day.
Ugh. Ugh. UGH.
I realized suddenly that Asher was still standing there, still holding me, still watching me closely, those infamous emerald eyes of his still locked on my face. This close up I couldn’t help but notice that the deep green of those eyes—the green that had launched a hundred fan girl tumblrs—was actually flecked with blues and yellows, giving them the look of a storm-tossed sea. A ridiculous detail, to be sure. But at the moment something to focus on that wasn’t the churning water behind me.
People around the newsroom liked to say Asher was the trifecta. As in rich, powerful, and hot as hell. He was often compared to a young Matthew McConaughey with sandy brown hair that hung slightly too long and curled up at the ends and a devilish, carefree smile always playing on his lips—as if he found life itself amusing.
And then there was his body. Even now, encased in a tux you couldn’t help but appreciate his physique—tall, well built. Broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. It was a body honed from hours of surfing the Baja California coastline, which according to the Most Eligible Bachelor in San Diego issues of all the magazines, was his favorite pastime.
In short, everyone wanted a piece of Asher Anderson. And from his reputation, he evidently had a lot of pieces to go around.
Except for right now, where his entire attention seemed focused on me.
“You gonna make it, Red?” he whispered, so softly that only I could hear. His breath brushed against my ear lobe as he spoke, sending shivers straight to my toes—and let’s be honest, other places as well.
Oh God. Eligible indeed.
I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my belly. To focus instead on the stupidity of the question. Was I going to make it? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Was this all some kind of big joke to him?
Annoyance churned in my gut. At him, for asking. At myself, for needing to be asked. Hell, at my freaking extremities for shivering over something as stupid as warm breath against cold ears.
I knew I should have been grateful for his impromptu rescue. His demand that the show must go on. The alternative—breaking up the wedding and causing a scene in front half of my coworkers and bosses—it would have been utter humiliation—and career suicide to boot. But at the same time, I was still so embarrassed, it was hard to muster up the appropriate gratitude.
“I’m fine. You can let me go now,” I muttered, even though his warm hands admittedly felt pretty good on my freezing skin. Or maybe because of that fact. Truth was, a large traitorous part of me wanted him to stay there, holding me up until the ceremony was over. Until I could retreat to higher ground.
But that would be weird. And I’d already proven myself weird enough for one afternoon.
Turned out, it didn’t matter anyway because Asher didn’t seem interested in letting go of my arms, despite my suggestion. And I couldn’t exactly force him to do so without causing another scene. And so I stood there, his hands still snug on my arms, his breath tickling the back of my neck. Trying to keep it together as the minister droned on and on. At least now I had something else to focus on instead of the ocean. Though I wasn’t entirely sure this particular focus served to make me feel any calmer. In fact my heart was beating fast as a racehorse and I only hoped he couldn’t tell.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity the minister got to the so-called “good part.” Mac was instructed to kiss his bride. And I dropped my shoulders in relief.
Thank freaking God.
I stepped forward, now managing to shrug out of Asher’s grip, trying to shore up my sanity so I could finish the job. I had only a few more minutes to keep it together before I could head to the stairs, up to the La Jolla mansion on the cliff where the reception was being held. Out of the reach of the sea’s icy grip.
I could do this. I could totally do this.
Beth turned from her first married kiss to look at me, grinning from ear to ear. I forced a smile to my own lips, then handed her back her bouquet. “Nice work,” I said, forcing my voice to sound light and unaffected. “And just think—you didn’t trip once, despite all your worries.” Beth had been having nightmares of falling on her face during the walk down the aisle for weeks now. But in real life she looked as if she were walking on water.
“Hey! Don’t jinx me!” she protested now, gesturing to the makeshift path between the guests. “I still have to walk back down the aisle, you know.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” Mac interjected, slipping an arm around her waist. “I won’t let you fall.”
The love in his eyes made tears spring to my own. And for a moment, I forgot to be afraid—I was too happy for them to worry about myself. It was nice to see two people who deserved each other fully get their happily ever.
Beth smiled at him, her face practically glowing with adoration. Then she turned back to me. “Are you okay?” she asked in a soft voice. “Earlier I thought--”
I waved her off, my cheeks heating all over again, both appreciating and hating her concern. At this point I just wanted to move forward. Forget it ever happened.
Not to mention get off this freaking beach, ASAP.
“I’m fine,” I assured her. “Now go! Finish this thing!”
Beth laughed and hugged me, then took Mac’s arm, starting down the aisle as friends, family and coworkers whooped and cheered. The couple stopped for only a moment, to kiss the flower girl, Mac’s daughter Ashley, who was jumping up and down wildly from her place beside his sister. The five year old took that as her invitation and chased after them as they continued down the aisle, prompting laughter from the other guests.
“Hey Red. We’re up.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Asher’s voice, rippling across my ears again. I’d been so wrapped up in Beth and Mac I hadn’t realized he’d returned to my side. As I glanced over at him now, he gave me a roguish smile, then held out his arm. As if he were some gallant knight in shining armor and I was the pathetic damsel in distress, needing rescue from the big bad waves.
Sadly it wasn’t far from the truth.
Reluctantly, I took his arm, feeling my traitorous skin flush all over again at the warmth that came from our interlocking elbows. God, what was it about this guy that had me zero to sixty with just a simple touch? I sucked in a breath, pasted a smile on my face and tried to calm my racing heart as I forced myself to focus on the job at hand, rather than the hotness on my arm.
Easier said than done, especially given all the stares I was getting from the audience. Well, the stares Asher was getting anyway, from all the women. I fleetingly wondered which one (or two?) he would end up bedding later that night. Hell, with his looks and money and celebrity he probably had the pick of the party. Even now the girls were slobbering like Saint Bernards as we walked by.
Must be good to be the king.
When we reached the top of the stairs, Asher stopped. I jerked my arm away from his, with a little more force than I’d meant to. He chuckled, his green eyes flashing merrily.
“That anxious to be rid me, huh?” he teased. “Or just angling to be first in line for the buffet?”
I groaned. “More like the deep dark hole I’ll be crawling into so I can die of humiliation in private, thank you very much.”
He laughed. But to my surprise it was a nice laugh. A laugh that said, ‘I’m laughing with you’ not ‘at you’. Even though, at the moment, I was still having a hard time finding any of this funny.
“Don’t worry, Red. It happens to the best of us,” he assured me. “I mean hell, if I had a buck for every wave that snuck up from behind and scared the bejesus out of me? I’d be a rich man.”
I raised my eyebrows. He laughed again.
“Okay, fine. A richer man,” he corrected. “And,” he added, waving a finger, his voice overly serious. “I would donate every penny of that newfound wealth to splash research. So someday scientists could figure out a way to stop those bad waves from happening to good people.”
He shot me a teasing grin and I couldn’t help a small smile in return. Now that I had distance between the ocean and myself I was able to relax a bit. The former sharp terror dulling to a lingering ache.
“Well, thank you,” I said sheepishly. “For the rescue, I mean. Now the News 9 powers-that-be can assume I’m only a tiny bit crazy. Instead of a full-on candidate for straightjacketdom.”
“Please.” Asher waved me off. “Have you ever been to a TV newsroom wedding? By the end of the night they’ll be so blind drunk they won’t remember their own names, never mind your little surf and turf snafu.”
I snorted. “Maybe I need to start spiking drinks just in case…”
“That’s my girl!” He held up his fist and I reluctantly bumped it with my own, my face flashing fire all over again. It was tough to be a redhead on the best of days. But this guy seemed to have “making me blush” as his superpower.
“Just do me a solid and skip my drink, okay?” he teased. “I have to give the best man toast later on and will need to keep my ability to speak in complete sentences if I’m somehow going to muddle through it.”
“That’s right! The toasts!” I exclaimed. With all that had happened during the ceremony I’d almost forgotten I still had a few Maid of Honor duties left. Reaching into my dress’s pocket I pulled out the paper I’d been working on the night before, studying it with critical eyes.
Asher gave a low whistle. “Wow, you came prepared,” he noted, looking impressed. “And here I was just thinking of winging mine.”
Before I could stop him, he reached out and plucked the paper from my hands, unfolding it and scanning the words I’d written. Once again I felt my cheeks heat as I stood there, awkwardly, not sure what to say.
“It’s just a stupid little thing I whipped up…” I stammered.
He looked over at me. “This is really good,” he exclaimed, as if he were surprised. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or insulted by that. He handed the paper back to me. “I’m going to sound like a total tool in comparison.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. It’s not rocket science you know.”
“Well, obviously not for you,” he muttered. “I, on the other hand…”
“Asher Anderson! There you are!”
I looked up, just in time to see a vivacious blonde, wearing a dress cut far too low to be considered proper wedding attire practically throw herself on top of Asher. As one did, I supposed, if you were a hot blonde in a low-cut dress. As she kissed him soundly on both cheeks, he simultaneously tried to peel her off his body. I stifled an unexpected grin at the annoyed look on his face.
Maybe it wasn’t so good to be the king all the time.
“Hey Jess,” he said, his voice measured. “I didn’t realize you were on the guest list.”
“Of course!” the girl—Jess—cried, almost indignantly. Then she giggled. “Okay, fine. I’m totally crashing. But how could I just leave you here, all by your lonesome, with all these bridesmaids wandering around, looking to hook up.” She gave me a derisive look, obviously lumping me into the aforementioned category. “Just consider me your plus one,” she cooed. “Now come on, let’s go raid the buffet. Those lobster tails are not going to just eat themselves, you know.”
“Okay, okay!” Asher said holding up his hands in surrender. He gave me an impish shrug, then mouthed ‘sorry” before turning back to his little girl friend. “Just hands off the tux, okay? I’m pretty sure it cost more than your yearly salary.”
She grinned. “That only makes me want to rough it up more.”
And with that, she practically dragged him across the lawn, toward the main house. I watched the two of them go, surprised at the shimmer of disappointment I suddenly felt flutter through my stomach. Which was completely stupid, of course. I mean, it wasn’t as if I had wanted him to stick around or anything. Sure, he was funny and nice. And he’d me feel better about everything that had happened with his silly jokes. And yes, he was incredibly easy on the eyes and my body was still humming a little from his touch.
But that was where it ended. Where it had to end.
Because he was Asher Anderson. And I was…well, me. We may have been paired for the wedding, but in real life? We might as well have come from different planets. No matter what happened tonight, tomorrow I would cease to exit in his world. That was just reality.
Besides, if he had known what had truly freaked me out back on that beach? The real reason I was so scared of those waves? He wouldn’t be interested in talking to me anymore anyway. In fact, he’d probably be the one to run away screaming.
I sighed, my mood sobering again as I turned back to the ocean, forcing myself to stare out into the water, watching the waves beat up the shore. I bit my lower lip, feeling my pulse kick up in my veins all over again.
Piper! Where’s your brother?
Where the hell is your brother?
Some people though the ocean was beautiful. Peaceful. But to me, it was nothing more than a graveyard.
PRE-ORDER THE BOOK
Amazon | B&N | BAM | iBooks
Indiebound | Kobo
Mari Madison - Author
Mari Madison - Author
LIVE, LOVE, READ