Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,91

at any second. I smiled, ready.

But it wasn’t Lucas who came through the doors.

It was Desmond.

Chapter Forty-Three

The first thing I noticed, aside from the lack of Lucas, was Desmond wasn’t dressed for a wedding. Instead of a tux, he was wearing a leather jacket over a plain white T-shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans. He looked great, but that wasn’t the point.

“Desmond?”

He came up the aisle with his head low, not meeting anyone’s gaze, least of all mine. In the open doorway, Kimberly stood bewildered, watching him close the distance between us. He stopped in front of me, not on the platform but on the ground, so I had to look down at him for the first time in our relationship.

“What’s going on?” I didn’t ask why he was here. He was invited. He was the best man. I did wonder, though, why he wasn’t dressed appropriately.

“Can we talk?” He held out a hand, ignoring the glares he was getting from the crowd.

“Is this really the best time?”

“Secret, will you come with me, please?”

“No.” I turned my attention back to the ballroom doors, waiting. If Lucas came in and I was off with Desmond? No. I couldn’t do that. This day was too important, and I wouldn’t be the one to fuck it up.

“I don’t want to do this here.” His hand was still out, and the room was so quiet I could have heard a pin drop.

“You had plenty of chances to talk to me. You left. This. Isn’t. The. Time.” I stepped back, fighting against the wave of tears threatening to be unleashed at any minute.

“Secret…”

My glance cut from the door back to him.

“Will you please come with me?” There was something in his eyes, a pain I’d only seen once or twice before, and always because of something Lucas had done that I didn’t understand. The mate bond. The pack marriage ceremony.

The smile I’d been forcing fell.

“What is it?”

“Come with me.”

I shook my head. “Just tell me.”

He jumped the short step onto the platform, dipping his head so he could whisper without being heard. He couldn’t hide the face he made before I drew close, or the way he sniffed when he got nearer. Apparently being close to me was still physically difficult for him. When I pulled back, Desmond glanced over his shoulder. Three hundred guests stared back with mute anticipation. He sighed and scrubbed his face with both hands, pushing his dark hair off his forehead and taking a big breath before he spoke again.

“Lucas isn’t coming.”

In spite of how quiet he’d been, an audible gasp escaped from the collected masses, my bridesmaids included.

“What are you talking about?” I frowned. “Of course he’s coming.” Even as I said it I was looking at the open ballroom doors where Kimberly was standing peering at me and listening like everyone else. My shoulders drooped, and the bouquet suddenly felt so, so heavy in my hands.

“No.” I shook my head, hoping by denying it over and over I might make it turn out differently. “No, you’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

Mercedes put a hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t look at her. If I saw even an ounce of the pity that showed on Desmond’s face mirrored in hers, then the jig was up. Mercedes was my rock. If she believed what he was saying, I would have to accept it.

I didn’t want to accept it.

My mind started to spin, kicking into high gear. “Is he okay? What—”

“He’s fine.” Desmond let his hand drop. “He’s in Louisiana.”

Murmurs started to spread like wildfire through the room. The sound of three hundred people talking all at once should have been deafening, but all I could hear was the throb of blood behind my ears and the slow, broken sound of my own heart.

“Louisiana?”

He rested one hand on my arm as he spoke, a gesture that would have once made me feel safe and comforted. “Your uncle called this afternoon. Some sort of last-minute emergency. A final negotiation about the borderlands.”

“But…we settled that.”

“Not according to Callum.”

I pushed him back and met his gaze. “You’re telling me Lucas got a call on the day of our wedding, and instead of telling my uncle to wait twenty-four hours, he ran off without so much as a word?”

“I wouldn’t have known except Dominick called me a half hour ago. Apparently he thought Lucas had sent Morgan to tell you.”

I looked at the guests. The ones who weren’t gossiping stared back with silent, apologetic half-smiles.