Bedded Then Wed (6 page)

“Sorry,” he said, feeling like an idiot. “Guess my mind wandered.”

“That’s all right,” Emma replied softly, gifting him with a comforting smile. “Pop was just fishing for compliments on my behalf, anyway.”

Still smiling, she floated up from her chair and made her way to the sink to rinse her coffee cup. He watched her cross the room, mesmerized by the fluid grace of her movements, by her long, slim limbs and tight, round bottom.

His gut tightened and a sensation like warm melted butter crawled through his veins.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Care to take a walk with me, Emma?”

Her head whipped around, startlement in her clear blue eyes. She reached over to turn off the water, then dried her hands on a nearby dish towel before turning to fully face him.

“Um…okay.” Her gaze skittered to her father for a brief second. “You don’t mind if we leave you alone for a while, do you, Pop?”

“‘Course not,” he answered quickly, waving them away. “You two go on. There’s plenty around here to keep me busy.”

Mitch opened the front door and held it while Emma passed through. He waited until she’d crossed the width of the porch and stepped down into the yard before tipping his head back in Wyatt’s direction.

“I thought about it,” he said in a low voice, not wanting Emma to overhear, “and I’ve decided to take you up on your offer.”

He stepped outside, closing the door behind him, but not before he caught the grin of pure delight on Wyatt Davis’s bearded face.

Emma turned in time to see Mitch come down off the porch steps and catch up with her. Without speaking, he took her hand and started walking.

They moved away from the pale streaks of yellow light shining through the windows of the house, but the moon overhead shone brightly enough to illuminate their path.

“Where are we going?” she finally broke the silence to ask.

“Nowhere special. I just thought we’d find some place private to talk.”

“Just talk?” she shot back with a teasing grin. From her experience, he was fine with talking in public. It was other things he preferred to do in private.

“Just talk.”

His tone was so serious, so unyielding, a ripple of fear caused her stomach to tighten.

This was it, she thought. He was getting ready to break up with her.

She shouldn’t be surprised. She’d known it was coming—eventually.

But that didn’t keep her heart from twisting, didn’t keep regret from tensing her muscles and slowing her step.

Just a little longer. That’s all she’d wanted—just a little longer to be with him, to love him, to pretend he loved her, too.

A few more days, a few more weeks…then she’d have been able to let him go. She might even have been the one to end it before he had a chance.

Breathing deeply, she tried to remain calm, tried to tell herself it was inevitable and probably for the best. She was a big girl, she could handle it.

She would miss being with him, but they could still be friends. Instead of going out as a couple, they would run into each other on the street and make small talk. Instead of making love, they would smile and pretend they’d never seen each other naked, never made each other pant and scream in ecstasy.

Piece of cake.

And maybe next she’d attempt to leap tall buildings in a single bound.

When she felt a tug on her arm, she realized Mitch had stopped walking. Looking around, she decided they must be out behind the house. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to know how far.

“So…what did you want to talk about?” she prompted, even though she knew perfectly well. She swallowed hard and blinked, telling herself not to cry.

He leaned back against the bark of a tall catalpa tree and took her other hand, pulling her close. Their bodies brushed and she reveled in his warmth, even as she wondered why he was bothering when he just planned to dump her, anyway.

“Our future,” he said.

Here it came. By our future, he meant the lack thereof.

Her heart was racing, her palms turning damp with nervousness. And she knew that when she spoke, her voice would quaver. “What about our future?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

Of course he had, and he’d decided he’d had enough of her.

“These past few weeks…we’ve had fun. We’ve been pretty good together.”

Yes, they had been. More than good. At times, they’d been phenomenal. But apparently that didn’t matter to him.

“And I’ve been thinking…”

Yes, yes, he’d said that already.

“That maybe we should make it permanent.”

Of course. Ever since Suzanne had left him—

She stopped. Stopped thinking, stopped blinking, stopped breathing. Had he just said…?

What had he just said?

“Excuse me?” she practically wheezed with what little air was left in her lungs.

“Emma,” he said slowly, his eyes dark and solemn as he stared into her own. “Will you marry me?”

He’d just asked her to marry him. Mitch. Had asked her. To marry him. When she’d thought for sure he was about to dump her instead and had been bracing herself for the worst.

Finally she managed to suck in a long, much-needed breath. “But—”

“It may not be a love match,” he said, running his hands up her arms to cup her shoulders and essentially cutting off whatever she’d been about to say. “I know that, but we get along well enough to make a marriage work. I like you, you like me. There’s no doubt we’re good in bed. And I’ll take care of you, no matter what. You can trust me on that.”

In the space of a heartbeat, she went from being elated that he might have feelings for her after all…enough to propose to her…to being crushed by his blatant admission that he didn’t love her at all but merely saw a marriage to her as something that would be convenient and comfortable for both of them.

Her first instinct was to tell him what he could do with his less-than-inspiring offer. But then she began to think of how much courage it had taken for him to even ask.

Suzanne had done a real number on him, and she knew exactly how bitter he still was over her betrayal. It was a huge step for him to come to her now and ask her to marry him…even if it wasn’t her idea of a dream proposal.

And she had been in love with him for as long as she could remember. This was her chance to be with him, regardless of the circumstances.

Maybe he didn’t love her. Maybe he never would. Or maybe he just didn’t love her yet. People changed. And people most especially healed after painful breakups.

If she married him, then every day would be another chance for her to erase a little more of Suzanne from his mind and heart and instill herself there instead. Not all women were like his scheming, two-timing ex, and all she needed was an opportunity to prove that to him.

A small voice inside her head warned her not to get her hopes up. That a woman couldn’t change a man, and there was no use trying.

But Emma didn’t want to change Mitch. She liked him just the way he was…or she had before he’d married up with that tramp.

And now, she simply wanted to be around when his battered heart finally healed and he got over his ex. For that, she could put a couple of years into a marriage that lacked the emotions she so dearly craved.

As long as she believed there was a chance he’d come around, a chance he could grow to love her as much as she already loved him.

A shiver of anticipation raced through her, settling low in her belly and spreading warmly outward.

She was doing the right thing. She knew she was.

Leaning close, she put her hands on either side of his waist and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders and she thought she felt him shudder against her.

“Good,” he said with a matter-of-fact nod. He kicked himself away from the trunk of the tree and took her hand. “Let’s go back to the house and tell your dad.”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she let out a nervous chuckle. When he tugged at her arm, she tugged back.

“Wait a minute. Don’t you want to celebrate?”

Since he was standing as still and immovable as a stone statue, she went to him, pressing herself along his tall frame and raising her face to his.

“Yeah, right. Celebrate.” He bent in to kiss her, just a quick, hard peck on her lips, then he straightened again and dragged her after him.

She laughed, increasing her steps to keep up and thinking that from now on, her life—her life with Mitch—was going to be very interesting, indeed.

Emma took a sip of her wine—her second glass of the evening, and she’d only arrived an hour ago.

The Ramsey’s sprawling one-story house was filled with guests, family and friends gathered by Mitch’s mother to help celebrate their engagement. Flowers and balloons decorated the large, hardwood living room, and a banner that said Congratulations Mitch And Emma! hung over the stone fireplace.

It was all very thoughtful…and very intimidating.

But as soon as Theresa Ramsey had heard the news, she’d insisted she be allowed to throw a party for them, inviting half the town to what had transformed from wine, cheese and classical music to louder country tunes and free-flowing alcohol.

Ironically, it was his parents’ enthusiasm about their engagement and all the plans his mother immediately began to launch that had seemed to turn Mitch off. From the time they’d announced their plans to marry—first to her father and then to his mom and dad—the same night he’d proposed, he’d seemed to shut down, showing no interest whatsoever in their engagement or upcoming nuptials.

He’d reluctantly agreed to his mother’s arrangements and told Emma to do whatever she wanted as far as the wedding was concerned. He was leaving it up to her to set the date and decide on all of the preparations.

She understood him not wanting to get involved. How many men really wanted to play a part in deciding on flowers and color schemes and girlie things like that?

But she’d at least expected him to help her choose a place for the ceremony—the church or his parents’ backyard?—and maybe offer suggestions for the guest list. Instead, he’d washed his hands of the entire situation, leaving her feeling very much alone.

They’d arrived tonight together, at his mother’s prompting. Theresa had mapped things out so that everyone else arrived before the guests of honor, and when Mitch and Emma walked through the door, it was to mingled shouts of “Surprise!” and “Congratulations!”

She hadn’t seen Mitch since.

Swallowing past the lump of emotion threatening to clog her throat, Emma forced a smile to her lips for the gentleman who’d just told her a supposedly amusing story of which she hadn’t heard a word.

It was Mitch’s way, that’s all, she told herself. He was a private person who didn’t like crowds or parties and especially didn’t like people making a fuss over him.

He’d also been married before. A marriage he’d been eager for and expected to last forever. Going through all of this again couldn’t be easy for him.

He was probably being flooded by painful memories and might even be considering what all of these guests were thinking about his latest engagement. Here he goes again. Maybe this time it will work out. Wonder if Emma will end up stepping out on him, too.

Emma didn’t believe any of their friends and neighbors would think such things about him, but she knew how Mitch’s mind worked these days. He’d become incredibly sensitive and prickly since Suzanne’s infidelity. As Emma imagined most men would.

But she would never hurt him that way and only needed a chance to prove it. She only needed time for him to begin to believe it.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t still nervous about the entire situation, however. Couples who were madly in love and one-hundred-percent dedicated to having a happy, healthy marriage suffered from butterflies and cold feet. Emma was positively petrified.

As much as she loved Mitch already, as much as she wanted to be his wife, having a fiancé who treated her coolly and was indifferent to their wedding plans was enough to bring doubts the size of Texas to the forefront of her mind.

The room around her felt suddenly too small, packed with people to a claustrophobic degree. Her chest tightened and her breathing became slightly labored.

She needed some fresh air and just a few minutes alone to calm her nerves.

Keeping a smile on her face and nodding to acquaintances as she passed, she made her way into the kitchen and out a side door. The Ramsey home had a great wraparound porch that connected to three sides of the house, with three different entrances. The better to slip away without being seen than if she’d been forced to leave through the front door.

Once outside, she stepped to the railing, set her wineglass aside and took a deep breath as she stared across the darkening landscape. Nails digging into wood, she studied the colors streaking the horizon as dusk drifted into night.

The cool air felt nice on her heated skin, and she finally relaxed her grip on the railing enough to reach for her glass and take another small sip.

“Getting a little crowded in there, isn’t it?”

Emma jumped at the sound of the deep male voice coming out of the darkness and turned to find Mitch’s brother, Chase, standing just a few feet away. Her heart pounded as she watched him step out of the shadows.

He was dressed in jeans and cowboy boots like just about every other man in attendance but was also wearing a tan jacket over his blue chambray shirt. The highball glass in his right hand was half filled with amber liquid and three rapidly melting ice cubes.

“Chase,” she said, still somewhat breathless from the shock of having him sneak up on her. “I didn’t know you were here. Mitch told me you were in Chicago or some such place on business.”

“I was. But I couldn’t miss my brother’s engagement party to my favorite neighbor.” He smiled gently and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “How are you, Emma?”

“Fine,” she replied letting her gaze slide away from his. “How are you?”

“That’s funny,” he said, taking a sip of his drink and completely ignoring her polite question. “For someone who’s supposed to be celebrating her upcoming marriage, I’d expect you to be a little more than just ‘fine.’ In fact, I’d expect you to be fairly vibrating with excitement.”

“I’m excited,” she told him, eyes still riveted to the porch floor. Her response sounded lame even to her own ears.

He gave a short huff of amusement. “If this is excited, I’d hate to see you depressed. Come on,” he said softly, reaching out to knuckle her chin up and force her gaze to his. “You can’t fool me, Emma. We’ve known each other too long. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she tried to assure him with an overly bright grin, even as tears prickled behind her eyes.

“Emma…”

His tone was so soft, the look he gave her so sympathetic that she buried her face in the soft fabric of his suit jacket and burst into tears.

For several long minutes, he simply held her and let her cry, patting her back and murmuring nonsensical words of comfort. When she finally got hold of her emotions and lifted her head, he handed her a handkerchief to wipe her eyes and nose.

“Thank you,” she said with a sniff, knowing she would have to slink back inside to fix her makeup and make sure her eyes weren’t all red and puffy before anyone else got a look at her.

“Now are you ready to tell me what the problem is?”

She shook her head. “I shouldn’t. You’re his brother, and I’m sure I’m just overly nervous and emotional about the wedding.”

“But…” he prompted. “My brother has obviously done something typically stupid or insensitive.”

“That’s just it,” she said quietly, glancing at the handkerchief she was worrying with her fingertips. If it had been made of tissue rather than a sturdy cotton weave, she’d have shredded it into a million pieces by now. “He hasn’t done anything. Ever since he proposed, he’s been acting like he doesn’t even want to get married. He hasn’t shown a single bit of interest in the wedding plans or our future or even this party that your mother is so excited about and put so much time and energy into.”

She waved a hand toward the crowded house, then dabbed once again at her flooding eyes. “I thought that being engaged to Mitch, being married to him, would make me happy, but now I wish we’d stuck to just sleeping together.”

Chase’s eyes widened at that declaration, but she ignored it. Obviously, Mitch wasn’t the only person in town who expected her to be an innocent virgin until her dying—or wedding, as the case may be—day.

“Look,” Chase said, rubbing her arms, left bare by her sleeveless dress, in a comforting gesture. “The reason for all of this is simple. My brother is an ass. His first mistake was hooking up with Suzanne, which anyone who was paying attention could have told him was a situation that had disaster written all over it. His second mistake was wasting so much as a minute being sorry when she left. And his third mistake…”

He paused to brush a lock of hair behind her ear and offer a gentle smile. “His third and by far largest mistake, was making you cry when he should be holding on to you with both hands and letting you know every minute how much you mean to him.”

At that, Emma’s lungs hitched and tears started rolling down her face again.

Chase pulled her into his arms and patted her back. “Shh. He doesn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he’s just a little mixed up right now. You know what a number Suzanne’s infidelity did on him. He doesn’t know what he wants anymore.”

She understood what he was saying, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She was still in the distressing predicament of being engaged to a man she wasn’t at all sure wanted to be with her.

Behind her, she heard the side door of the house open and footsteps echo on the wooden planks of the porch floor. Pushing away from Chase’s embrace, she wiped her nose and cheeks, embarrassed to have been caught crying at her own engagement party.