How to Switch a Groom Read online

  She sighed and shifted closer, her breath even and slow. Tate placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Cally seemed to cuddle even deeper against his chest. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his shirt off, but he was much warmer without the sopping wet shirt. Cally’s dress was a light enough material that it was only damp, and he’d been truthful when he said there wasn’t much material. It was sleeveless, had deep V-necks in the front and back and only came to about mid-thigh. His momma would say it was the perfect skirt—long enough to cover the essentials but short enough to keep things interesting.

  He smiled to himself, but then he sobered. His momma. She would be worried sick. His brother. Where was Brody? Were he and Kaimbrey okay? Tate wrapped his arms tighter around Cally and said a quick but sincere prayer for Brody and Kaimbrey.

  When he finished, he shifted to get more comfortable against the rock. He wouldn’t trade Cally being in his arms for anything, but the pressure of her sitting on his lap made his rear even more uncomfortable.

  Her head lolled to the side, and even in the dark he could make out her perfectly-formed features: the smooth cheeks with high cheekbones, the aquiline nose, the generous mouth. He could imagine her pale blue eyes sparking fire at him, and his momma cussing him for what he was about to do, but even that couldn’t stop him. He bent closer and kissed her soft cheek. The feel of her skin under his lips was heaven. Every male instinct in him wanted to claim her lips with his own, but he held himself in control.

  Keeping his lips on her cheek, he closed his eyes and savored having her close. Their closeness wouldn’t last. They had far too much baggage and resentment between them, but he was loving every second.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cally and Colt were snuggling close in a cave of some sort. They’d been on a hike but got caught in the rain, and he’d cradled her on his lap and told her to rest. She awoke to his lips on her cheek. She was surrounded by Colt’s strong and warm arms, and everything was right in her world. She sighed in contentment and cuddled closer. Oh, how she’d missed this, missed him. Somehow his touch was even more invigorating than she remembered from before she went to Chicago. His strength and warm touch had always been comfortable and fun, but she didn’t remember the tingles and excitement swooping through her.

  He kissed her cheek, and his lips lingered there. Cally caught a breath. Ah, Colt. She turned her face slightly, and their lips brushed over each other. Excitement erupted within her.

  “Cally?” he whispered.

  “Kiss me,” she groaned out, needing this, needing him.

  Colt complied quickly. He captured her mouth with his own, with a fierceness and hunger born from their years apart. Cally wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. He explored her mouth tenderly yet so possessively. This kiss was unlike anything she’d experienced with Colt, or anyone. Apparently, absence did make the heart grow fonder.

  Her mouth tingled, and her body was on fire. She ran her hands down to his chest, the warm skin tight with muscle. He was glorious. This kiss was glorious.

  He pulled back slightly and murmured huskily, “Cally.”

  “Colt,” she moaned.

  He yanked away from her and yelped, “Colt?”

  Cally jolted, yanked from her dreamlike state and the feeling of being drugged with euphoria from those kisses. It only took a second to remember where she was and who she was with. She must have been dreaming before because it wasn’t the love of her youth that had been kissing her but … “Tate?” Oh, my goodness, it was Tate, and the kisses had been extraordinary.

  “How could you?” he accused. “You kissed me thinking I was Colt? You kissed an engaged man?”

  Cally wrung her hands together. “I was asleep and dreaming. I wasn’t thinking of Colt being with Bri. In my dream, we were just together again. But why did you kiss me?”

  “You kissed me,” he accused.

  Cally supposed that was true, she had brushed his lips with hers and asked him to kiss her. “You kissed my cheek first, and you definitely kissed me back.” She was so confused and upset. Tate. She’d been kissing Tate. That explained why those kisses were so incredible and not at all like her memories of kissing Colt. But how had she completely forgotten where she was and what had happened the past few weeks? Colt was now committed to someone else and off limits. More importantly, how was she supposed to deal with the way her body reacted to Tate, who also should be off limits?

  Tate was muttering something under his breath.

  “Speak up,” she demanded. “It’s just me.”

  “Just me? Cally, you’ll never be ‘just’ anyone.” Tate groaned. “You still love Colt.”

  Cally shook her head. Now that she was fully awake, she was humiliated and disgusted that in her dream she’d thought she was with Colt again, but it wasn’t as if she could control her dreams. “Colt’s with Brikelle. That throws a little damper on loving him anymore.”

  “You would still love him if he hadn’t found Bri,” Tate accused.

  “Probably,” she admitted. She’d loved Colt for what felt like most of her life. “What’s it to you?” Cally was confused about those kisses, her reaction to Tate, and his reaction to her. Could it be possible that he could care for her as more than just a friend? That was so messed up though. She’d been slated to marry his brother. No matter the million-dollar challenge for her charity that Emma had thrown out there, she didn’t want to play with Tate’s emotions. No matter how ticked at her he acted, he was a great guy, and she cared deeply for him.

  Tate shoved his hand through his hair. “Nothing. It’s nothing to me. If you love Colt so much, why didn’t you come back years ago? Why’d you push him away when he chased after you to Chicago?”

  Cally leaned back against the rock wall with a sigh. How long would this night last? She doubted she’d slept very long while Tate held her. The rain was still falling steadily, and she couldn’t see more than half a foot into the darkness.

  She could feel how high-strung Tate was next to her. It radiated off of him. As if her answer meant far too much to him.

  “How much of a story do you want?” she asked quietly.

  Tate didn’t touch her, but he seemed to lean closer. “We’ve got time.”

  She smiled wryly, but unease settled in her gut. Not just because she was going to share her past, but also because every minute ticking by could be minutes that Kaimbrey or Brody were being hurt by Jack and his flunkey.

  “Please, Cally,” Tate’s low voice rumbled over her. “I just want to understand.”

  Tate was such a nice guy. She’d kissed him and called him his brother’s name. He’d obviously been upset, but he would never treat her poorly. He wanted to understand. She kept hoping maybe there was more between them, but she couldn’t assume that. Yet he’d kissed her fully awake, unlike her groggy state of thinking she was kissing her old boyfriend. Oh my. Tate at least deserved to know why she’d left and stayed away for so long.

  “You remember my mom?” Cally clasped her hands together and studied them.

  “Unfortunately.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I wish I could get rid of the memories too.” She paused to decide how much she needed to share to help Tate understand but not badmouth her family. She didn’t enjoy her parents, but they were still family.

  Tate gently touched her arm. “Did she hurt you?” he asked.

  “Not anything too intense physically.” She shuddered as she remembered. “She’d slap me or dig her fingernails into my arm, sometimes whack me upside the head with whatever she had on hand: a book, hairbrush, or her laptop.”

  “What?” Tate gurgled out. “She smacked you with a laptop?”

  “A couple of times.” She shrugged. “It was more the emotional abuse that hurt me. The physical stuff was just to keep me in line if I got sassy or if I tried to tell anybody else how controlling and mean she was, and it got back to her.” She remembered telling a couple of teachers in elementary school about her mother hurting her. It hadn�
�t ended well. They’d have a private conference with her mother where Cally was made to look like a vindictive, spoiled brat, and then they’d receive an over-the-top gift basket thanking them for being so kind to Cally even though she was so “difficult”. By the time Cally reached middle school, her parents had all but disappeared from her life, and she was being raised by nannies. Strangely, that hurt worse than being smacked by a laptop.

  “I’m sorry,” Tate murmured.

  “It’s in the past.” She tried to shake it off like she always did. Interestingly, Tate didn’t even ask about her dad. He knew. Her dad was a shell of a man, a puppet. He’d never stood up for himself or anyone, just let her mother parade him around and spend his family money.

  “The only reason I brought it up was, as you can imagine, I didn’t have great self-esteem, and I wanted more than anything to prove I was worth something.” Positive attention from her mother. That was all she used to want. Luckily, she was grown now. Past all of that.

  “You always seemed so confident to me.”

  “Glad to know I hid it well.”

  “I wish I would’ve been more observant.”

  Cally shook her head. “You were two years younger than me and involved in sports, school, and girls. You had your own life. Nobody’s blaming you. Besides, you were my boyfriend’s little brother. We were good friends, but we weren’t intimately close or anything.” Cally winced, maybe she shouldn’t have used the word “intimate” as they were definitely intimate right now.

  Tate nodded tightly, his brow wrinkled.

  Cally continued to ease the tension she sensed from him, “As you also remember, I spent as much time as possible with you, Colt, and Brody. Other girls were kind of petty to me and reminded me of how my mom always tore me down. You and your brothers were nicer and a lot more fun.”

  “We did have a lot of fun.”

  “Yes, we did. Plus, your parents loved me, welcomed me, and fed me. I really needed all three.”

  She saw him brush his hair back. “Cally …” he said in a low voice. “I’m sorry. We were stupid, immature boys. We thought your mom was a witch, but we didn’t really know how bad it was.”

  “I know, and truthfully, I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to escape when I was with you. Thank you for being my friend.”

  “Of course.” There was something in his voice, something she would’ve delved into if she were braver. Could the two of them be … more than friends?

  “When Colt and I were sixteen, we … decided to be together.” She didn’t need to recount their first kiss. Now that she was fully awake it stumped her how she could’ve ever mistaken Tate for Colt. Their kisses were nothing alike. Colt’s had been comfortable and fun. Tate’s was exhilaration, warmth, and happiness.

  “I remember,” he said.

  “We had a lot of fun together, and I liked being with him, but I got really sick of being ‘Colt’s girl’. I wanted to be my own woman, stand on my own, and again, prove myself to my mom and everybody in this valley. That’s why I went to the U of U instead of up to Utah State with Colt. That’s why, when an opportunity came, I moved to Chicago not long after I finished my master’s.” Her voice lowered. “That was why when Colt chased me down, I asked him to leave. He was miserable trying to work for someone in Chicago rather than being his own boss, and I hadn’t proved myself yet, not even close. Truthfully I felt smothered by how dedicated he was to me: following me halfway across the country, getting an apartment and a job close to me. So I lied and told him … that he wasn’t enough, that I wanted more out of life than a cabinet maker could provide.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, I felt awful saying it and the look in his eyes …” She shuddered, wishing she couldn’t remember the despair and hurt in his blue eyes. She’d consoled herself that he hated Chicago. He was a hometown guy and flourished being self-employed and working hard. “I was such a brat,” she admitted.

  “Why didn’t you go after him? Apologize?”

  She shrugged and picked at her fingernails, embarrassed to admit everything to Tate. He already thought pretty low of her, and he would always be on his brother’s side. “I knew how loyal Colt was to me, to us. It was overwhelming at times, but I knew he wouldn’t give up on us. That’s why I’d had to be so mean in Chicago, because otherwise he never would’ve left.” Her voice was so low from the embarrassment of how bratty she’d been. She wondered if Tate could hear her. “I assumed I would have time to find myself and still end up with Colt, but the years slid by quickly. At first, I didn’t reach out to him, because I was being stubborn and was so determined to stand on my own. The freedom felt really great for a while. Then it got too awkward to simply call or text an apology when there was so much hurt between us. So I started planning how I would get back here and show Colt and everyone what I’d become. I’d beg his forgiveness and prove I was a better, stronger person, finally good enough for him. We’d have the successful, fun life we’d always dreamt about.”

  Tate didn’t say anything, and the air felt even muggier around them.

  She sighed heavily and continued her story. He’d asked for it. “I worked so many hours over those five years, put up with so much crap, but I was successful, and I finally felt like I was enough. My Uncle Joshua called with the opportunity to come work as Emmaline Jensen’s interior designer. I was certain it was the perfect opportunity, finished up my jobs in Chicago, and then rushed home. But Uncle Joshua had lied to me. Bri was already Emma’s designer, and Colt was already in love with her. Uncle Josh thought Emma would switch for me, but apparently … Bri got the job and the guy.”

  “Bri’s an amazing lady.” There wasn’t any censure in Tate’s voice, but he also wasn’t going to tolerate her speaking poorly of Colt’s wife.

  “I know.”

  It was quiet for a few seconds then Cally said, “So that’s the lame story. I was trying to prove I was something, lied to Colt that he wasn’t enough when it was really me who wasn’t enough, and ended up losing what mattered most.”

  “Colt is all that matters to you?”

  Cally really wished she could see his face clearly, see what he was thinking and feeling. “Colt is one of the best men I’ve ever known, and I always thought we’d end up together, but you know how it goes, how plans change.”

  “Yeah, I do,” he muttered.

  “But look at you,” she said brightly. Now that she’d aired all her dirty laundry, she really wanted to change the subject. “I heard you’re one of the top podiatrists in the state, and you’re successful and handsome. I’m proud of you, Tate.”

  “Thanks. Do you really think I’m handsome?”

  Cally laughed. “Do you really think it’s raining tonight? Yes, you’re handsome, as if all the girls don’t tell you that.”

  “As if,” he said.

  She shivered and wished they were cuddled up again, but it was awkward after the kisses they’d shared and her calling him Colt. She did feel better after sharing her story with him. He’d taken it in stride, but he hadn’t really said he understood or forgave her for breaking his brother’s heart or anything. She wasn’t sure what she expected. A little understanding or forgiveness would be amazing, but she didn’t plan on it. She had been horrible to Colt: telling him to go, focusing on her work and not contacting him for over five years, but she was definitely paying for it now. The crazy thing was that if Tate would just put his arm around her again, she might not feel quite as miserable.

  “You cold?” Tate asked.

  “Yes.”

  “C’mere.” He scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Cally cuddled into his warmth. Her left arm was tucked between them, but she placed her right hand on his stomach. Tate jumped. “Cold!”

  Cally giggled and ran her hand up to his neck. Tate laughed and captured her hand with his, holding it tight. “You should’ve told me you’d turned into an ice cube.”

  “Yeah, I would’ve, but we both got a little awkw
ard for a minute.”

  Tate leaned closer to her. Cally wondered if dawn was approaching as she could see the blue of his eyes. He looked serious but also interested in her. He was looking at her like he wanted to kiss her again. Had he forgiven her for calling him Colt? Had he forgiven her for being selfish and ditching all of them?

  How could she explain that she wasn’t pining away for Colt anymore? She was mourning the plans and dreams they’d had together, but it hadn’t been as bad as she’d feared to see him with Brikelle. Colt had moved on and so would she. Could she move on with Tate? She thought she could. It was on the tip of her tongue to explain, to tell him all, right after she kissed him. She leaned closer.

  His eyes lit with desire, and she could swear his face was getting brighter. A branch broke, and Tate whipped around, facing whoever was coming and the light that was growing. Cally blinked as a bright beam cut through the night, rain, and trees. She squinted into it and had to shield her eyes.

  “Tate Jepson? Cally Young?” A voice called out.

  Tate leapt to his feet and stood in front of her. Cally stood cautiously, placing a hand on his warm back for reassurance while peering over his shoulder.

  “Who’s asking?” Tate demanded.

  “Joseph Nelson. Ogden Search and Rescue.”

  Tate turned back to Cally and gave her a quick hug. “Dry clothes and food,” he said.

  “Warmth and shoes,” she said.

  Tate laughed. He took her arm, and they walked to the search and rescue guy. He put his flashlight down, and Cally could see several other men behind him.