That thought chilled him to the bone. He increased the pace of his run, somehow processing the room number Matt shouted behind him. He rounded the corner and saw the massive, wooden double doors with the words City Clerk stenciled above them. They were closed. When he reached them, he yanked on the knob, shaking the doors on their hinges, but they were locked. Keeping him from Hayden. He searched around, frantically looking for a security guard.

“Open it!” all three men shouted at the same time, badges out, when they spotted one.

The tall, skinny guard went white, as if he’d just glimpsed hell. “I-I’m supposed to leave it locked during ceremonies.” He dropped his key ring on the ground with a clatter and stooped to retrieve them, hands shaking. “They’re almost done, though. Just another few minutes…”

Brent roared Hayden’s name and began pounding on the door with heavy fists. A few minutes left? At this very moment, Hayden could already be gone from him forever. No, she couldn’t be. He wouldn’t accept it. Knowing Daniel and Matt were working on getting the guard to open the door, he did the only thing he could do. He tried to stop the wedding through the door.

“Hayden Winstead! Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare marry someone else. We will fix this, do you understand me? If it means I have to work ten jobs. Your family will be fine. You don’t have to do this. Please, please don’t do this.” He banged his head against the door, grateful for the pain somewhere besides his heart. “I know I’m an ass**le but I’m working on it. I’m sorry for what I said. So sorry. Hurting you…it might be the worst thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve this. If you marry him, Hayden, I won’t recover. I only got to spend one night holding you, but it was enough to know I have to hold you every single night.”

Brent waited for a moment, to see if he could hear anything on the other side of the door, but only silence greeted him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. Couldn’t focus on anything but getting through to her. “What do I need to do, baby? Do you want me to sing ‘Wind Beneath My Wings’? I’ll do it. I’ll deafen everyone in this building if that’s what you want.” When the silence remained, Brent’s head dropped against the door with a curse. “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

Then he gave Bette Midler a run for her money.

…

Hayden stood stock-still, flanked by her mother and father, watching in fascination as Brent belted out the Beaches classic at the city clerk’s door. The one she’d ran out of five minutes ago. Halfway through his impassioned speech, from which her pulse still raced like crazy, the security guard had relented and stepped forward to unlock the door. Matt, however, finally noticing her standing ten yards away, had held him off with a look, allowing her to stand there while Brent poured his heart out.

Seconds after Story’s needless, yet effective, intervention, her father had come bursting through the chamber door. He’d actually managed to pull off a deal with a foreign investor to keep the company afloat. Her mother, realizing Hayden’s marriage to Stuart was now unnecessary, had fessed up to her father and told him about Hayden’s plan for the afternoon. Thank goodness she’d already decided not to marry Stuart or they might have been too late with the news. And she would be hearing this perfectly, beautifully, uniquely Brent speech from the wrong side of the door.

Her heart thumped so hard, she put her hands on her chest as though she could keep it from bursting free. This rough-edged, dirty-talking, wisecracking giant was singing to her as though his life depended on it and she’d almost given up the chance to be with him. Relief, powerful and encompassing, rolled through her in waves, accompanied by regret. If she’d believed for one minute that Brent had married someone else, she’d be devastated. Hayden could only imagine how he felt at that moment, thinking she’d discarded him without a word. Guilt poked holes in her relief. She needed his arms around her. It’s the only thing that would calm the riot of emotions. Reassure her that she’d avoided catastrophe.

“Brent.” Her voice came out sounding like a croak, so she tried again. “Brent.”

He spun around, eyes moving over her in a panic. “Oh God. I’m too late,” he said dazedly, then slumped hard against the door.

Pain twisted in her chest, her throat constricted. “No, you’re not too late. I couldn’t do it.”

Brent’s head jerked up. He looked as though he wanted to believe her, but was unable to see past his fear just yet. “Why? Why couldn’t you do it?”

“You know why,” Hayden whispered.

“I just sang the theme song from Beaches. Tell me anyway.”

She swallowed hard, words eluding her. Nothing she said could compare to the heartfelt speech he’d delivered moments before. So she closed her eyes and spoke from the heart. “I want you to leave your socks on my floor.” A breath shuddered out. “Not on Beth or Betsy or Becky’s floor. I want you to teach me how to grill. That’s something you do, right? In parking lots before sporting events or…or something?” She shook her head, knowing she rambled. “I want to…I want to be the one who worries about you. When you’re at work. I want to zone out while you talk about baseball.”

When she opened her eyes, Brent stood right in front of her, throat working with emotion. “Duchess—”

She rushed to finish before his nearness overwhelmed her. “I know the money bothers you, but I can’t do anything about it. It’s not who I am, though. Just try and remember that.”

“Baby—”

“I don’t care if freckle-faced Betsy is better for you, either. She can’t have you.”

“Woman, would you let me speak?” He clasped her face in his hands. “I want everything that comes along with you. All of it. And I don’t know who the hell Betsy is, nor do I care. I only leave my socks on your floor. You’re the only one who will ever have the right to worry about me. Or start an argument with me before breakfast.” He ran a thumb across her bottom lip. “But I’m not letting you near the grill, darlin’. That there’s a man’s job.”

Hayden launched herself into his arms with a laugh. Everything in the world felt right again when he wrapped them around her and swayed on his feet. She pressed her face against his strong neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t think I had a choice.”

“You did. You made the right one.” He pulled back to kiss her forehead, her cheeks. “The two of us can figure this out. I won’t let you be sorry for choosing me.”

She couldn’t speak for a moment as she regarded the man in front of her. He would do it, too. Help her support her family without a word of complaint. This goofy, loving, incomparable man. “I could never be sorry for that.” She nodded toward her father. “But fortunately that won’t be the case. Dad came through in the clutch.”

Her father’s eyes sparkled as he stepped forward to shake Brent’s hand, Hayden’s mother at his side, arms crossed. “I was coming here to stop a wedding. Turns out I didn’t need to. She ran out of there like a bat out of hell.”