The bride had chosen a sweeping, traditional gown, and the groom’s tux fit so well she knew it had been made for him—but then, this was the type of group where probably all of the groomsmen owned their own custom-fitted tuxes, as well. The church smelled of flowers and candles and a touch of perfume. Outside it was a hot day, but the air in the sanctuary was running at full blast so it was blessedly cool. For the moment, as the couple said their vows, all was right with the world.

Jaclyn glanced around the sanctuary and gave herself and her mother a mental pat on the back, and delivered a still and silent high-five to Diedra and Peach for a job well done. This was a day to remember for the couple at the center of it all, a perfect moment in time they would never forget. It was a relief to know that in a crazy world, such moments still existed.

She shouldn’t have looked around, because her gaze fell on the tall, muscular man who was standing motionless at the back of the church, half-hidden in the shadows. He hadn’t been invited, but the badge and weapon he wore were their own engraved invitations. When he arrived, the two fathers had gravely conferred with him, both of them had nodded, and Eric had gotten what he wanted, which was to be here. He’d stayed out of the way, but she’d never for one moment forgotten he was there, or been unable to pinpoint his location without even looking.

From the first second she’d seen him, her life had been turned on its head. In less than a week she’d completely overthrown her normally cautious nature to indulge in a one-night stand, then she’d been assaulted and fired by a client, then been suspected of and investigated for that client’s murder—by the same man she’d had the one-night stand with. Oh, yes, she shouldn’t forget that she’d also become the target of a would-be murderer, probably the same person who’d killed Carrie Edwards, and now her car had been impounded and she was living in a hotel because it wasn’t safe for her to be in her own home. She’d always thought of herself as being strong, but she wasn’t nearly strong enough to get through this ordeal alone. She was glad Eric was there. She might not be able to admit it to him, but she had to admit it to herself.

If Carrie hadn’t been murdered, Jaclyn thought, she would still have him on her mind. She’d be waiting for him to call and ask her out, wondering if he really would. This week, she’d told him, after the craziness of six weddings in five days was behind her. If their first night together was any indication, they would have ended up back at her place, maybe starting something new and wonderful, maybe finding much more than what they had been looking for when they’d met. She’d heard that it happened that way sometimes, love coming out of the blue, surprising and unexpected, but she’d thought people exaggerated.

But, Carrie had gotten herself killed, and Jaclyn had been a suspect, and Eric had interrogated her and taken her clothes to check for bloodstains, and even if her blood and body did start to steam a little every time she looked at him, how could she ever get past that?

That was where the cowardice came in, because she wanted to get past it, yet was afraid to. She was tired of being alone, tired of watching other people find happiness while she stood on the sidelines, with only her mother and friends to keep her company. Not that she didn’t appreciate how important they were to her life, but still, it wasn’t always enough. She wanted to do what other women did, to reach out and grab for happiness. She had, once, only to watch it disintegrate right in front of her eyes. Had her marriage fallen apart because instead of completely committing herself to her husband she’d held part of herself back, waiting for him to let her down? Which, of course, he’d promptly done. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy.

But she was still holding herself back, still afraid to take that chance, to really love a man. The only man who had ever tempted her out of her comfort zone was Eric Wilder, and she’d let circumstance put him off limits—way, way off limits. And in spite of telling herself again and again that it didn’t matter, she knew deep down that it did, more than she dared to admit.

Eric hadn’t even tried to pass himself off as Jaclyn’s date. Not only was it not necessary in this particular crowd, but she wasn’t alone here; her mother and the other two women from Premier were here, and if he’d begun acting all lovey-dovey with Jaclyn he figured the three of them would try to take his head off. He’d have to do something about that, he thought as he did yet another narrow-eyed scan of the people in the church.