The Sometime Bride

Chapter Ten



Carrie made the forty-five minute drive from the country inn to her country bungalow with her top down. The nippy evening air lit up her senses and helped her focus her attention on the issues at hand, as weaving wind whipped fingers through her long, loose hair. At least she’d had her wits about her when Mike had dropped her back at the parking area and had been able to concoct that missing earring story that had allowed her to duck back inside. She’d watched out the window of the inn until a few minutes after Mike had driven away. Though here he’d been insistent about staying and seeing her to her car, she’d fabricated an excuse about also having to settle some business arrangements with Mr. Gilpatrick that might take a while.

While in looking at his watch, he’d seemed dubious, Mike had finally acquiesced and settled for a formal good-bye on the steps of the inn. The same stone steps where Carrie had first beheld him in his dripping-wet, near-naked glory on that fated night they’d met.

Carrie’s throat went dry at the recollection as she sailed through the yellow light. Carrie quickly checked her rearview mirror, but saw, with relief, that even the cops in this sleepy berg were already in bed tonight. Carrie felt the spreading heat at her collarbone and inhaled deeply, fighting off the thought of anything that put Mike Davis and beds together in her mind. She was falling for him. Falling badly. And there didn’t appear to be a darn thing she could do about it except for trying to keep this silly illusion from blowing up smack in her face.

How long did Carrie really believe she could go on like this? A week, a month? In the outstanding event their relationship endured beyond Mike’s reunion, sooner or later he was bound to start asking questions. Already had started asking questions, Carrie reminded herself.

Criminy.

Carrie ran a hand along the back of her stiff neck as she wheeled her car onto the exit ramp that led to the isolated country route that would take her home.

Oh what a tangled web we weave…

Carrie slowly shook her head.

All she’d really wanted was for Mike to like her for herself. But now she wondered precisely what that was. A liar? A manipulator? Someone with just as little integrity as Mike’s old fiancée Alexia?

Carrie blinked hard as hot tears pressed with biting force from her bleary eyes. It was no wonder she’d never found a man. There, without even trying, she’d gone and done it again. Screwed her love life all to heck and back. Love life, ha! she thought, laughing bitterly into the wind. As if she’d ever truly known the meaning of the phrase.



Mike scurried around his apartment, tossing empty aluminum cans into the recycle bin. Holy cow! He didn’t know why he had so much nervous energy. But whatever the reason, he might as well put it to good use.

Mike paused in the threshold to his bedroom, mentally trying to calculate when he’d last changed the sheets. Well, if he couldn’t remember, then the likelihood was they needed changing again.

Mike tugged back the fitted sheet, trying to recall the last time he’d actually had a woman in the place. Alexia, neatnik that she was, had always insisted he come to hers. Alexia had always insisted on a lot of things, like her pleasure first, for example. Not that Mike minded giving a woman pleasure. That aspect, in fact, excited him. But when it was that woman’s pleasure to the exclusion of everything else in the world, including the presence of her partner…

Mike shook his head and carried the pile of sheets to the washer. He was quite certain Carrie wouldn’t be like that. Carrie was a warm and sensuous woman. Inviting yet giving all at once. It was there in the way she kissed, the way she teased and beckoned with her eyes. The way her tantalizingly womanly curves ached for a masculine touch…all…over…her body…

Christ.

Mike looked down at his boxers, realizing he was going to need another cold shower. His second since he’d dropped Carrie off at the inn and come home. And, for crying out loud, their parting kiss had been nothing if not chaste.

Maybe that was what it was. She was driving him to distraction by holding back. Though, when he was being honest, Mike had to admit that Carrie wasn’t the only one who seemed adept at putting the brakes on their relationship. While their mutual attraction was too strong to deny, there was something else holding each of them back. Mike couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. But his gut told him it had to do with more than just the faux-fiancé game going on between them.

Mike heaved a heavy sigh and flipped on the cold water. What was it about Carrie St. John that always left him all wet?



Carrie rolled over in bed and lazily lifted her cell. “Hello?”

“A dillar, a dollar…”

“Grandma Russell?” Carrie asked, her head pounding. She squinted against the bright light streaming in through the tilted Venetian blinds.

“Lands sakes, child, did I wake you? I thought you investment types were up catching worms well before dawn!”

Carrie reached out her free hand and angled her clock radio toward her so she could read the time. Ten thirty. She’d missed her nine-thirty appointment. Carrie’s head fell back against her pillow with a thunk.

“No, Grandma.” She held aside the receiver and yawned. “Been up for hours.”

“Well, sweetheart, you’re not really sounding too chipper.”

“Just a stress headache,” Carrie said, massaging her throbbing temple. “It will get better.” Already, Carrie was making a mental list of all the conference calls she’d have to rearrange. Mondays! What a mess!

She must have been exhausted. Totally wiped out from her weekend experiences. And it was all Mike Davis’s fault.

“Well, maybe my cheery bit of news will leave you feeling better… That fiancé of yours—”

Carrie sat bolt upright in bed, not knowing quite what to expect.

“—is such a doll. You’ll never believe what that Wilson did!”

“No, I probably wouldn’t,” Carrie said, meaning it absolutely.

“He sent the sweetest note—with the flowers.”

“Flowers?”

“Yes, indeed, perfectly gorgeous arrangement. Must have cost the man a fortune, but, of course, like you’ve told us, the man is dirty rich, so it really is the thought that counts.”

Carrie’s temples constricted and pounded anew. “Filthy, Grandma. The term is fil—”

“Well, now, sweetie, you may call the man a dirty rascal if you want to for outfoxing you with this sweet surprise, but I wouldn’t go as far as to insult his personal hygiene. In fact, he looked exceptionally well-groomed to me!”

Carrie’s head thumped back against the headboard, ramrodding the base of her skull with another lightning bolt of pain. Flowers? He’d sent flowers? How in the world would she ever explain breaking off an engagement to a wonderfully thoughtful man like him now! Her grandmother was totally smitten! “It was a very sweet gesture, but I’d caution you against taking anything he said too much to heart.”

“To heart?” Grandmother Russell shot back. “The man has a heart the size of Nebraska! Looking forward to being a part of your beautiful family was what he said. Brought tears to Nellie’s eyes it did. Real tears, not just the ones she sometimes puts on during confession.”

Carrie sighed and squeezed shut her eyes, wondering how on earth she was going to get out of this mess, while her grandmother continued to wax poetic on “Wilson’s” attributes.

“Wasn’t that just the most eloquent…”

Carrie could practically feel the steam blowing out of her ears. Nice job, Mike Davis! Playing the perfect gentleman and leaving poor Carrie holding the bag. The time for beating herself up over her own duplicity had ended. Now Mike was the one with the answering to do. And Carrie was going to see to it personally he did some talking.



Mike was just going out to get his mail when Carrie roared into his apartment’s parking lot like a storm cloud on the wings of—holy cow—a new-model BMW convertible. She did have money. And lots of it.

That wasn’t the only thing, Mike saw, backing up a step as she leapt from her car and made for him like a thunderbolt. “You!”

Mike inched back toward the mailbox. He’d never seen a woman so positively incensed. Not even any of the several who’d dumped him.

“Hi, Carrie,” he offered lamely, as she walked right up to his chin, then poked him in the chest.

“Thanks…one…whole…heck…of a…lot!” she said, emphasizing each word with the pressure of her pointy finger. “You, Mike Davis, have single-handedly ruined my existence!”

“Hey, whoa…” He tried to lay a steadying hand on her shoulder but backed off when the look in her eye told him she just might bite it off.

“What right,” she asked, again with the pointy finger that—dammit—was starting to hurt, “do you have…sending flowers…to my grandmother?”

Mike gripped his hand around the offending digit and held it in place.

“Let me go!” Carrie charged.

“Only if you promise to stop poking.”

Carrie glared at him and pulled back her hand, massaging its aching joints. Poking into his chest had been painful for her as well, though she didn’t dare let him know it. It had taken her over three hours to find him. She’d gone through six other Michael Davises in Redfields before she’d finally happened upon this place here. And now he owed her some answers.

“Like some iced tea?” Mike asked, pinned to the mailbox, his eyes darting furiously between Carrie’s still-idling car and the woman in front of him.

Carrie ran a frustrated hand through her tangled hair. “Well, for heaven’s sake,” she said, her shoulders sagging just a tad so their positioning didn’t look quite so combative. “I’m not a bee that’s going to sting you.”

“Tea?” Mike repeated, his voice coming out an octave higher than intended. Okay, Mike, he told himself, now would be a good time to think up the reason you did that. She obviously wants an explanation. But do you understand it first?

All he knew was that when he’d awakened that morning feeling sunny, sending flowers seemed the perfect thing to do. Gracious. Thoughtful. And the truth was, he adored Carrie’s grandmother—along with the rest of her extended family.

Carrie set a hand on her hip and shook her head. “All right, I’ll come in for tea, but under one condition. You promise to be completely honest with me.”

“That cuts two ways, Carrie,” Mike called as she walked back to her car and yanked her keys from the ignition.

Criminy. She hadn’t even considered that.



Carrie sat across from Mike at his kitchen table in his tiny but tidy efficiency apartment. Carrie looked around, somehow finding all the cleanliness disheartening. More undeniable proof of just how highly unsuited to each other the two of them were. What had she been thinking?

“Well,” Carrie asked, setting down her glass. “I’m waiting.”

Mike was waiting too. Waiting for something brilliant to occur to him. But all he could come up with was the very embarrassing truth: he’d wanted to impress Carrie’s family.

“It wasn’t meant in malice, Carrie,” he began tentatively, pushing aside his tea glass.

“Well, of course, I know that!”

“Well, then…?” he asked, gently pacing his words, lest her iced-tea glass wind up on his head. “Why are you so darned mad?”

“I’m mad because… Because…” Carrie faltered. She was so furious she could barely form her words. But what, in truth, drove her anger was even beyond her comprehension. All she knew was it had something to do with Mike inserting himself deeper in her life than he had a right to go.

“We made a deal, you and I.”

“That was ages ago.”

“Three days,” she corrected without blinking.

“Well, it seems like ages, Carrie. It seems impossible I’ve only known you that long. The two of us, we…”

“What?” she demanded, looking him square in the eye.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too?”

Carrie pushed back from the table and stood. “No way. No way, Mike, are you turning the tables back on me. We are not here to discuss my feelings!”

“Okay,” Mike said, taking a lingering sip of tea. “Shall we discuss mine, then?”

Panic gripped Carrie by the throat. What was happening here? No! She was here to confront him. She was furious! And there he was looking—what? Humble? Self-effacing? Forgivable?

Carrie bit into her bottom lip and dropped back down into her chair. “What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean,” he said, looking right through her with earnest green eyes, “is that you said you wanted honesty. I’m prepared to fess up, if you are.”

Carrie gulped and grabbed her tea glass, which was empty.

“Refill?” she asked weakly.

“In a moment,” he said, reaching across the table and encircling the hand that gripped her glass with both of his. “First, we talk flowers.”

Carrie tried to steady her resolve, remind herself of just how infuriated she was. But when she looked at him, really looked at him, Carrie knew in her heart Mike was telling the truth. He hadn’t sent those flowers to upset her. Or anybody else, for that matter.

“So why?” she asked, the still air settling around them as Mike released his grip on her hands and laid his palms on the table.

“I can’t tell you what it felt like. Being there in that room of people—with your family. I felt so included. Really a part of things. I didn’t mean to make anything harder on you. Truly, I didn’t. I just wanted to say thank you.”

The gratitude part she could buy. He seemed sincere enough in his emotion, but… “The note?”

Mike wrinkled up his brow. “Guess I crossed the line on that one. My apologies. I sometimes get so swept up in things, I act before I think.”

Carrie held her tongue, knowing very much what that felt like. Okay, so maybe he had acted on impulse. And maybe out of good intention. But what a viper she was going to look like now when she announced her relationship with Mike had ended.

“How about your family?” she asked after a long pause. “Don’t they make you feel—included?”

Mike gave a slow, sad smile and studied the tabletop. “Well, I guess family’s a pretty subjective word, isn’t it? Mine isn’t all that big, really. Just me and my dad.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” But Mike didn’t offer any more. He just sat there being very quiet. Abnormally quiet.

Carrie studied the man with the gorgeous green eyes and shoulders broad enough to take on anybody’s troubles. It wasn’t only his trick with the flowers that was going to make ending this charade difficult.

After what seemed like eons, Carrie reached across the table and laid a hand on his arm. “Mike?”

“My dad’s sick, Carrie,” Mike said, looking up with moisture-tinged eyes. “Very sick. For the past two years, almost all of my income has gone to his care.”

Carrie felt the raw burn in her throat. She’d never known her parents. They’d died in a house fire when she’d been barely a year old. By a twist of fate, she’d been staying with her grandmother as her parents were planning on going away together for their second anniversary trip. They’d never made it, and Carrie, thanks to the luck of the draw, had survived to be raised by her Grandmother Russell and doting great-aunts.

Still, she couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to lose someone who’d looked after you, somebody you’d equally loved and cared for. Carrie bit back the sting in her own eyes, realizing her Grandma Russell’s time probably wasn’t that far away.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I had no idea.”

“Well,” Mike said with a shaky smile, “Dad’s had a good life. A good hard life, lived the way he wanted to live. I can't fault him for that.”

“What’s he got?”

“It’s more like what hasn’t he got? His liver’s going, he’s got heart trouble. But, you know, the great thing is he’s still out there kicking. Tough old coot…” Mike’s voice faltered. “My dad. Still got that great sense of humor. In fact, just to look at him, you’d never…”

“Oh, Mike.” Carrie stood from the table and walked to where he sat, putting her arms around him. Her heart went out to this man. This man who always tried to put on a good face, who had worked so hard to make her laugh… Who had sent her grandmother flowers. Who could kiss like nobody she’d ever known.

“Now, don’t go feeling sorry for me,” Mike cautioned, looking up and returning her hug.

“What I feel for you,” Carrie said, for the first time admitting it to herself, “goes way beyond sorry…”

Oh great, Mike thought, she pities me. That’s even worse.

“And the love I see in your eyes for your father only reconfirms it. I’ve seen somebody very different here today. And yesterday, at the shower also. It’s not just that you’re a warm, caring person. Not just that you can make me laugh…” Not just that he looked like sin, she told herself.

Mike drank her in with his eyes, beholding a million new possibilities. Then stood to cradle her in his arms.

She was going out on a limb here, and she knew it. But the words that were welling within her were so fierce, so true, she was losing all power to hold them back.

“Mike, I think that I’m falling in love.”

Mike nestled her closer and brought his forehead to hers, kissing her sweetly on the lips. “Only think?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh Mike.” She brought soft hands to his cheeks and looked at him deeply. “More than think. I know it’s brazen of me to say so. That it will probably take a while for you to feel the same way. I don’t understand what has happened to me. How all of this has happened so fast. I never really thought…”

Mike hushed her by tracing the tender line of her lips with one finger. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”

“But Mike!” she said, splaying her hands against his chest. “We’ve only known each other three days.”

But three minutes was all it had taken for Mike to know. The moment he’d seen her holding court at the top of those stairs at the inn, Mike had ached inside at the feeling someone like her could never be his. And now, every ounce of his being ached at the possibility that she could.

Mike couldn’t believe that any woman as warm, as wonderful, as completely genuine as Carrie, could be standing here professing her love. But she was. And not just with her words—with her eyes. Eyes that searched his soul and begged answers to so many questions.

“Carrie,” he said, kissing her at first lightly and then feverishly before pulling back. “I want to make love to you. With you. For as long as you can possibly stand.”

Carrie grinned as the smallest—daintiest—tingle took hold of her tailbone, then spread like rapid fire. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,” she said with a kiss.