Created In Fire (Art of Love Series) (5 page)

Carrie bit her lip. “I’ve never not been a fan of your art. I—,” she paused, knowing to say what she wanted to say would only nail the coffin she was in with Michael tighter around her, but the man had the right to know his art was more than merely good.

“Michael—it was always very easy for me to promote your work because I understand it. I don’t even have to sell it. I just have to find the right people who want it. I met with the city board in Cincinnati, intending only to offer them the other piece you did similar to the one at the Louisville fairgrounds. There was a woman on the board who asked me what I saw in your art. I told her I saw raw power and the ability to communicate great passion. Two weeks later, I heard they commissioned the custom piece for the park.”

“No one said that commission was because of you. I made twenty thousand on that piece. You didn’t even take a cut,” Michael told her. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell your boss? All you said was they didn’t want the piece that was done.”

Carrie shrugged and laughed. “Because they didn’t want the piece that I was selling, and it wasn’t me that sold the commissioned work. Your art is the draw. All I did was share my honest opinion. The rest was between you and the city of Cincinnati.”

“Carrie. . .,” Michael said, his voice rough with emotion. She supported his art because she believed in it, even when she was married to other men, even when she allegedly hated him. What was he supposed to do with that information?

“Turn by the chapel ahead,” Carrie told him, her attention drawn out the window. “The house is a mile up the lane beside it.”

Michael made the turn, swallowing the urge to demand more of an explanation. He could see Carrie was visibly drawing her personality inside herself. Normally she charged into confrontations, but at the moment her eyes were going flat with dread. What could her family possibly do that was so awful?

She looked—well, she looked like she had the day she’d shown up to tell him about the baby, which was even worse because Michael hadn’t seen her look much like her real self since.

“Carrie—I’m not here for your parents’ sake. I’m here for you. I won’t let them use me to hurt you,” Michael told her, hoping he could pull it off.

He would fight his impatience and dig for the tolerance it would take.

He’d channel his father, the calmest man he’d ever met in his life. He would be calm and polite.

“I appreciate your noble thoughts about being on your best behavior for my sake,” Carrie said sarcastically, as they pulled into her parents’ extended graveled driveway. “It will just be wasted on this group. Don’t worry. I know how to handle them. We won’t stay long, and they won’t expect me to. After bringing home a few dates, I stopped bringing men here. It wasn’t worth what my family put them through.”

When she climbed from the car, Michael frowned at the resigned look in her eyes. Her shoulders were drooping so much, she was practically bent forward. She kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, never lifting them to the early September sunshine or the wind blowing in the trees. Michael thought Carrie didn’t even look like herself.

He was already mad at her family before he even crossed their threshold.

*** *** ***

Carrie tapped on the front door of the long brick ranch house she’d grown up in, and opened it quietly.

“Hello,” she called, stepping inside with Michael close on her heels.

Her mother dashed out of the kitchen to the hallway, arms open as she came to them.

“Carlene, why have you stayed away so long? Have you lost weight? You seem thinner,” Maggie Addison said, wrapping her arms tightly around her oldest daughter, fighting not to be hurt when there was no answering hug.

“Mom, this is Michael Larson. Michael—this is my mother, Margaret Addison,” Carrie said, stepping aside to let Michael shake her mother’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Addison,” Michael said politely, taking the woman’s hand in his.

He was surprised to find her grip a lot firmer than he would have imagined judging from the fact her gaze wouldn’t even hold his for more than two seconds. She was about Carrie’s height and looked very much like an older version of her daughter, except for her very blonde hair laced with even brighter silver strands.

Michael Larson wasn’t very tall, Maggie thought, but he was very broad shouldered and had a grip of iron. Her husband Ethan wasn’t going to intimidate this one so easily, she thought, ultimately deciding that was a bonus for Carlene. She searched Michael Larson’s face, seeing dark determined eyes assessing her back. It made her a little nervous the way he kept his gaze locked on hers, never looking away.

“Everyone’s in the back yard. I was just finishing up lunch,” Maggie said, shaking off her nerves. “Take Michael out and introduce him to everyone, Carlene. I’ll be out in a moment with some tea.”

Carrie reached down and picked up Michael’s hand with her cold one. He looked at her but said nothing as his warm fingers closed around hers.

Darla and Alison were on the patio when Carrie slid the door open. They fairly jumped into her arms to hug her.

Here was warmth and love, Michael thought, smiling as the younger girls hugged Carrie and patted her face.

They chattered on about school and things while Michael took in their similarities to their sister. They would have looked like a set of triplets except for Carrie’s brunette locks. Obviously, her sisters had taken after their mother in appearance.

Carrie turned to Michael and made introductions, not surprised to see both her sisters perking up considerably as they took in Michael’s appearance.

Michael’s masculine looks were rustic and earthy. He looked exceptional today in new jeans and a crisp striped shirt that highlighted his shoulders. She wanted to laugh watching Darla and Alison try to rein in their interest, but had to put a hand to her stomach as a nausea wave rolled over her.

Michael instantly stepped into her, putting an arm around her and a hand over hers on her stomach. “When was the last time you took your medicine?”

“It’s probably just the stress. I’m still on schedule,” she said, trying to dislodge his hand from her stomach as her both her sisters stood open-mouthed staring at them.

Her family wasn’t big on public displays of affection and Carrie shook her head at the questions in her sister’s eyes.

“I’ve had some stomach problems lately. No need to worry. I’m fine. Michael is just nervous. I’ve gotten sick on him a couple of times.”

“I’m not the only one nervous. You’re practically shaking,” he whispered, looking over her shoulder at two men glaring at him. “So tell me, is that your brother and father glaring at us?”

Carrie turned slowly and looked out in the yard. Her sister-in-law, Crystal, was off playing with her one-year-old nephew, Jason. Her father and brother stood with arms crossed, staring at the group on the patio.

Carrie rolled her eyes and sighed, recognizing their body language and what it meant. They were already upset, and all Michael had done so far was touch her out of concern for her health. They had probably seen his long pony tail and concluded he was a heathen. The rest of their judging would have followed from that.

“Yes,” she answered, her tone as hard and unfriendly as their glares. “Those two are unfortunately the men in my family.”

“Interesting. They’re both blond. Are you the only brunette?” Michael asked, hoping to distract Carrie from her nervousness with inane questions about details. Plus he was kind of curious how a family of total blondes produced a chocolate brunette with red highlights.

“Yes,” she answered flatly. “I’m the only brunette. Look, don’t be surprised at anything the men in my family say to me about my appearance or us. They think they have the right to control everything and everyone that goes by the name Addison.”

“Are you afraid of them?” Michael asked softly, his tone taunting on purpose. He grinned when Carrie glared at him.

“No. I’m not afraid of them. I just dread the inevitable confrontation over you. I hate confrontation,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Michael herself.

“No you don’t. You wade into confrontation,” Michael corrected. “You stopped my mother and future step-mother from killing each other Friday night without even thinking that you might have gotten physically injured.”

“I stopped them
because
I hate confrontation,” Carrie insisted.

Michael laughed. The woman had held him captive by his hair just yesterday, and his scalp was still feeling the after effects today. “Boy are you in denial. You need to talk to my brother, Shane, though you might want to wait until December when his doctorate is official.”

“Fine. Be a comedian, but this is not funny. You want to know what I’m avoiding? Come along then. Let’s introduce you to the men in my family and you can form your own opinion,” Carrie declared, picking up his hand to drag him out into the yard with her.

“Nice to meet you,” Michael said to her sisters, who smiled and waved as he let himself be dragged away.

He didn’t miss the sympathy in their gazes and wondered if his mouth had gotten him into trouble again.

Chapter 4

They hadn’t even reached the two men before Carrie’s father frowned and started asking questions.

“Carlene, what is wrong with you, girl? You don’t look well. Are you not taking care of yourself?” Ethan stated, stepping forward to hug his daughter, who didn’t hug back.

He was almost used to her resistance, but it still smarted.

“I’m fine. Dad, this is Michael Larson. Michael—this is my father, Ethan Addison,” Carrie said, gritting her teeth as her brother’s angry gaze met hers across the other two men.

“Certainly a scorcher for September, isn’t it? I bet you’re really warm with all that hair weighing you down,” Ethan said, feeling Michael’s grip tighten almost painfully on his momentarily before it eased. So the man had a temper, Ethan thought.

“If all you’re going to do is make rude comments about Michael’s appearance, we’ll be happy to leave,” Carrie said, lifting her chin to her father.

Michael narrowed his gaze on Carrie’s face, which seemed very pale in the sunshine, which was indeed warm for September. He turned a frustrated gaze full of warning on her father, satisfied when the man took a small step backwards in response.

“Actually, my hair is only too warm if I wear it down. I keep it pulled back most of the time,” Michael told him. “Carrie likes it too much for me to cut it.”

He was pleased when her father brought his gaze back to Carrie’s in surprise.

While that particular line in the sand was being acknowledged by her father, Michael turned to the other male still glaring at him. Carrie’s brother vibrated with open and obvious anger. In fact, both he and his father were all but buzzing with some sort of misplaced outrage.

Michael resented their attitudes, but wanted to sigh over how upset Carrie probably was about their lack of manners in greeting him. If his family had acted like that to her—no, he couldn’t even go there. They would never be so rude to a stranger, not even Shane.

“You must be Carrie’s brother Kevin,” Michael said, putting out a hand.

Kevin glared harder and stuck out a hand, capturing Michael’s in a death grip, purposely squeezing hard.

So much for politeness
, Michael thought, having no choice but to return the grip in kind. Fortunately, years of weight lifting combined with the type of work Michael did provided some formidable hand strength.

Kevin was wincing by the time Michael turned loose.

When he looked back at Carrie, she was weaving and fighting to stand upright. Michael felt his temper rising as he moved closer to her just in case.

If either of these men thought they were going to treat Carrie poorly while he was around, they were in for a hell of a surprise. He would play their man games all day long, but not while Carrie watched in dismay.

“Carrie, you’re looking pale, honey. We probably need to find someplace for you to sit in the shade,” Michael said softly, putting a hand on her arm.

“What’s wrong with you, girl? Are you too sick to even stand?” Ethan demanded, his gaze suddenly taking in all of his daughter’s countenance. She did look ready to fall over. “I’m your father, Carlene. You’re supposed to answer me when I ask you a question.”

“No, she’s not,” Michael interjected, putting an arm around Carrie. “You’re bullying her and trying to make her upset, but you’re not going to be doing that to her anymore in front of me. So cut it out. If you want to know what’s wrong, ask your questions without that I’m-your-father chip on your shoulder. And use a decent tone of voice.”

“Just who do you think you are? We’re Carlene’s family,” Kevin said, crossing his arms and stepping up to Michael. He had several inches on the shorter man. He wasn’t afraid to take him on if needed.

“Who am I?” Michael said, his voice tight with defiance. “I’m the man who’s going to marry your sister, which makes
me
her family now.”

Hearing the simmering anger in Michael’s tone, Carrie put her hand on his arm, patting to get his attention. The last thing she’d meant to happen was for him to feel like he had to defend her to her own family. That wasn’t part of their deal.