Real Romance

chapter Eleven



Mark looked over his shoulder and called back into the house. "Hey, Marie! There's some turkey with a bird on your doorstep!" She didn't answer.

"Just kidding, pal," Mark said, giving David a slap on the arm. "Come on in."

"Oh!" Meg, John's fiancée, rushed over. "You must be the guy! Marie told us last month she was getting married, but we all knew—-just knew—it couldn't be to that old boring Cecil!"

Despite her willowy frame, Meg looked pixie-like with her bridge of freckles and short red hair. "Johnny," she called, leaning back into the living room. "Oh, John-boy, come here!"

A tall, muscular man with jet-black hair appeared from around the corner, his dark eyes widening with surprise. "Well, hey there! You must be David."

"How did you know his name?" Meg questioned, swatting her fiancé on the rump.

"Talked to him on the phone."

David shifted the heavy turkey pan uncomfortably in his hands.

"Here, let me take that." A pretty ponytailed blonde with apple-dumpling cheeks appeared and lifted the roasting pan out of David's hands. "Honey," she said, talking to the lanky fellow behind her, "this is David, Marie's fiancé."

"No, wait!" David held out his hand.

But a dark-haired woman about an inch shorter than Marie walked over and used the opportunity to slip off one arm of his coat. "Your true love's here," she sang back into the kitchen in a lilting voice, before yanking the other arm free, then carrying his coat to the closet.

"What in the world is all the..." Marie strode into the front hall and froze, as an extremely tall brown-haired guy materialized at her back.

"You must be Jack. Jack Wagner," David said, stepping around Marie and stretching his hand out toward Teresa's husband. "Carolina basketball, right? ACC Championship year."

Jack gave a modest grin and nodded his big, square jaw.

David knew he'd recognized the face.

"Would somebody—anybody—mind tell me what's going on here? And just who let him in?" Marie shouted, as a flushed David turned to face her.

Mark quietly backed away, as the others appeared to decide whether or not they wanted to be discreet, or stay and watch the action.

"Well, I think," Meg said, tugging on Johnny's arm, "that we should all go and see what's cooking in the kitchen, and leave these two lovebirds alone."

"Good plan, sweetie," Johnny said, leaning over and planting an affectionate kiss on her cheek. "Especially since," he whispered in her ear, but not quite softly enough, "I'm the one who asked him to bring the turkey!"

Marie gave her brother an accusatory glare, but he just took Meg's arm and ignored her as he exited the room.

"Wow," David said, bringing his hands together in a clap, "what a great family you have."

Marie blinked behind her perfectly straight frames. "All right David, the truth. Just what are you doing here, and just how did you finagle a dinner invitation from my unsuspecting little brother?"

She looked so beautiful standing there, wonderfully domestic with flour dusting her bright red cheeks, her sensuous curves hugged ever so tightly by a full-length, green print apron. Those mesmerizing brown eyes and spectacular lashes flashing behind... wait!

"You got them fixed!" David blurted out. The surprise waned to disappointment when he realized that meant she'd taken them to someone else.

"Don't look so crestfallen," Marie said with a little shake of her head. "Though you may not be my type where romance is concerned, I didn't toss you over for another optician."

David instinctively stepped one inch closer, but she inched back.

"Caroline replaced the frames for me. No charge."

"Caroline?" David asked, startled. "But she didn't say a word." And, blast it all, she knew first-hand all the agony David had gone through since last week when Marie had shut him out of her life.

"Of course not," Marie huffed. "Caroline apparently has a deeper sense of loyalty than my traitor brother!"

Johnny, who had stuck his head into the foyer and was about to come get something, suddenly changed his mind and disappeared down the back hall.

"Oh, don't be too hard on Johnny. He just happened to pick up the land line. And, after all the times you'd slammed it down in my ear—"

"Now, don't you go defending my brother!" Marie said, taking one big step in his direction.

"No, I wouldn't dream—"

"And don't," she said, coming closer and thumping him on the chest, "go sharing your dreams—or fantasies, as they may be—about us being engaged with my family!"

David looked into her eyes, all fire and ice, and swore he felt his adam's apple melt.

"I didn't," he squeaked, then cleared his throat.

"So, is this the way it's going to be, then?" she asked, stepping up to him so her hairline was level with his shoulders. "More dyed-in-the-wool, bald-faced lies?"

She tilted her chin upward, set both hands on his shoulders, and gave him a rude push backwards. "Get out of my house!"

"Now, Marie," her sister Jill burst in. "Is that any way to treat the man you've pledged yourself to for eternity?"

Marie gritted her teeth and made some kind of snarling sound David couldn't identify. "For the last time—"

Jill laid a soothing hand on David's arm and a peace-making arm around Marie's shoulder. "Come on now, kids," she said, forcing a brilliant smile. "It's Thanksgiving. Let's all try being a little grateful for what we've got, huh?" She gave Marie a light squeeze, patted David affectionately, then walked into the arms of Dan, who'd been watching from the sidelines.

"Hello!" Marie screamed. "Hello, I know you're out there!"

David watched in amazement as heads popped out from around door frames and the rest of her siblings emerged from their hiding places with guilty looks.

"Really, guys," Marie scolded, "I thought you all had outgrown that nonsense by the time I was seventeen."

"Not quite," Mark said with a grin. "And, boy, did we see some good stuff! What was that fellow's name? Big guy you took to the prom?"

To Marie's relief, Johnny walked over and popped Mark on the head with a rolled-up newspaper. Just like Mark to make trouble. It was the first Thanksgiving in years that he hadn't brought home a girl, and his boredom was showing already.

"Soup's on!" Meg called, approaching from the kitchen. David had thought one was missing when he'd counted eavesdropping heads. No, two. David looked around. Where was Jack?

As if in answer to the question, Jack came out of the dining room. "Where shall we seat our guest?" he asked tactfully.



It annoyed Marie no end that she apparently had no say in whether or not David was staying for dinner, even though she was hosting it.

Not only that, but then everybody squabbled over where he would sit. Jack wanted to talk basketball, while Teresa wanted a detailed story about how Marie and David met. Mark wanted to discuss all the best ski resorts. Meg had grown up in North Carolina, and Johnny, the surgeon, was suddenly eager to hear all about some new lens-making procedure from David.

Marie sighed and cleared the salad plates, relieved that David had been seated at the opposite end of the table, but still not entirely sure she liked him occupying her father's chair. She walked to the kitchen, as a round of laughter exploded at her back, and the thought occurred to her that she might as well not be here at all.

She deposited the plates in the sink, then felt the rush of revelation. Of course! It was so obvious, she hadn't even seen it. As much as she loathed him being here, as desperately as she'd been trying not to meet his gaze, David was actually rescuing her.

For once in the past eight years, Marie was going to be able to enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner in peace. No probing questions, no ribbing. Done. It was settled. She was engaged! And now the spotlight was on David, not her.

Marie released a deep breath and let go of a lot of tension with it. If David was happy to play along, as he seemed content to do, then why not her? Get through this annual holiday. Get back to work, then move on. All she needed was a little more cooperation from David, and then after a couple more weeks she'd tell her siblings the engagement was off. With her track record, they'd certainly believe that.

Marie squared her shoulders and walked to the swinging door that led to the dining room. "Oh, David," she said, peeping through the door, her voice all sugar-sweetness. "Honey, could you come in here and help me with the turkey?"

"Carve it, you mean?" he asked, feeling his blood rush to his feet. David knew what that would require: long, sharp knives—or at least one. And one was all it would take, with a woman as riled as Marie. She'd hardly spoken to him all evening. Had barely turned her eyes upon his. And, when she had, he'd seen nothing more there than utter disregard.

David excused himself from the table and walked toward the kitchen, believing, at least, there was safety in numbers. Her whole family seemed to like him. And, boy, what a nice bunch they were. His family's dinners in Ashville had never been like this. No, instead of warm exchanges and laughter, they'd been filled with financial figures and boredom. He and his sister Debbie had never gotten a word in edgewise, and were always dismissed the moment they had finished their dinners.

"You called?" he asked, as the swinging door closed at his back.

"David," Marie said, holding up a long, gleaming knife. "I have a proposition."

David swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Oh, yeah?" he asked, his voice suddenly squeaky as a thirteen-year-old's.

"You and I are engaged," she said, digging the knife into the breast of the turkey and slicing off a chunk.

"Okay," he said, making no effort to move from where he was.

"Come over here, will you?" she said, motioning with the knife. "I don't want to shout it, for heaven's sake."

David steeled himself and took a few steps forward.

"What's wrong with you, anyway?" Marie asked. "One minute you're the loving fiancé, the next you act as if you're afraid..." She looked down at the knife which she'd thrust back into the turkey carcass.

"Oh, no!" She burst out laughing. "No, no, no..." Marie snorted. "You couldn't possibly have thought—ha!" She dropped the knife to the carving board.

"Hey!" Mark shouted from the dining room. "Are we going to get any dinner in here, or should we all just depart and leave you two alone?"

"David," Marie said, bringing herself under control and standing to grip him by the elbows. "I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. "She found herself giggling uncontrollably. Her? A menace? Hooo.

"David," she said again, blinking hard and straightening her quivering lips. "Here's the deal."

He looked at her without flinching, his crystal blue eyes calm.

"You and I are engaged."

"Okay."

She narrowed her eyes and resisted another giggle. "You started it, I didn't."

"Okay."

"Therefore, you are mine until the night is through."

David's heart did cartwheels, but he didn't say a word.

"What I mean is, we can play this game for a few hours, just to get my family off my back. But when the clock strikes midnight..."

Holding his tongue seemed to be working so far, so why wreck it now, David reasoned.

"Then you go home."

"Got it," he said, bowing backwards as she dismissed him with a wave of her knife.

And then he darted through the swinging door and gave Johnny a high-five before Marie could rejoin them.



"More wine?" Johnny asked, passing the carafe in Marie's direction.

She'd already had two glassfuls and was thinking she should stop. But then she looked over at David holding court at the other end of the table and motioned for Johnny to fill her glass halfway.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the lateness of the hour. Or maybe, it was because she was so full of sweet potato casserole and pecan pie she couldn't think straight. But the truth of the matter was that David looked good sitting there in her father's chair.

He seemed so at ease with her family. And, for a man who had never met them before, it had certainly been a baptism by fire. Yet, none of it appeared to faze David at all.

"Sweetheart," he asked, looking in her direction as he stretched back and patted his belly. "Can I help you with the dishes?"

"See there," Meg said, nudging Johnny. "This man isn't domestically impaired. He's offering to help in the kitchen."

Johnny flushed and drained his wineglass. "Oh now, honey, you know I'm helpless when it comes to you ordering me around."

David knew just how Johnny felt. He got to his feet, the room turning a bit at an odd angle. Just how much wine had he had? Though he hadn't been counting, the carafe had seemed to make quite a few trips to his end of the table.

"Come on, hon," Marie said, coming over and rubbing the back of his waist.

Wow. The room came into focus then, along with all sorts of electrifying images in David's mind.

He pulled a stunned Marie into his arms. "Baby," he said, his voice husky from the wine, "you should know better than to touch me like that in public."

Someone at the table let out an amused giggle. But all Marie could see was the fire in David's eyes. It was all too clear what was on his mind.

"Maybe we should get going," Jill said, tugging on Dan's sleeve and rising from the table.

"No," Marie said, trying to break the lock of David's arms but failing miserably, "stay."

David nodded slowly as a sexy grin worked its way across his kissable lips.

Gracious! Marie thought, feeling a little sweat trickle down her cleavage beneath her too-warm dress.

"Ah, yeah," Mark said, slapping the table loudly and springing to his feet. "Time's a-wasting. We'd best all get on the road before that big storm hits."

"Storm?" Marie asked, finally wriggling free of David's embrace and practically running to the opposite end of the room.

"Yes," Meg said, as Johnny went to collect their coats from the hall closet. "Haven't you heard? They've predicted a lot of snow tonight."

"Say," Jill said, as Marie wondered what on earth she was going to do once she was left alone with David in the house, "You sure you don't want us to stay and help with the dishes? We've made quite a mess."

But David just smiled and muttered something about helping the little woman all she wanted.

Little woman, her foot! If Marie had had darts to throw, she would have aimed them straight at David.

What was wrong with her anyway? This entire fiancé thing had already gotten out of hand. There she'd sat all through the meal, envisioning David as a permanent fixture in her father's chair. And rather than her siblings, all the other seats around the table had been occupied by imaginary children—her and David's, to be exact. Six of them altogether.

She shook off an unwanted chill as David's warm hands settled on her upper arms.

"Sweetheart," he said, leaning over and kissing her fondly on the forehead, "don't you want to go and say good-bye to your brothers and sisters?"

"Of course," she said, her face the temperature—and the color, she just knew it—of stewed tomatoes.

Marie stood on the front porch and said her goodbyes, each sisterly and brotherly hug punctuated by some whispered comment about what a catch David was.

When she turned to go back in the house, David was standing in the doorway.

"How much of that did you hear?" she asked, feeling her breath stick in her throat.

"None of it..." David began.

But before Marie could get out her sigh of relief, he finished, "Except for all the good parts about what a great catch I am."

She tried to think of something witty to say, some snappy comeback that would break the heated tension of the moment. But instead her boot heel caught on a floorboard and she stumbled forward into David's arms.

"Hey," he said, shoring her up by the elbows and then tugging her in close."I think that you're quite a catch, too."

"David," Marie said, as he pulled her to him, her soft breasts pressing his pounding chest. "I think we're letting heat out."

Didn't he know it. David swooped in for a kiss, oblivious to the fact that his backside still propped open the door.

"David!" she said, stopping him in mid-approach. "My electric bill!"

David turned and looked into the house, then gave her a thousand-watt smile. "You're right, my sweet fiancée, we're burning way too many lights in there. Where do you keep the candles?"