The Manning Sisters (15 page)

“There's no need to be angry.”

Russ pushed his near-empty plate aside and downed the last of his coffee in a single gulp, apparently doing his best to ignore her.

“Thank you for breakfast,” Taylor said, pushing her own plate aside after a moment. She'd only managed a few bites of egg. The toast she'd so carefully spread with jelly remained untouched.

“You're welcome.” Leaning back in his chair, Russ rubbed a hand over his eyes. When he dropped his hand, it was clear that he was forcing himself to put their disagreement behind him. He smiled. “What are your plans for today?”

“The first thing I'm going to do is shop. There's a fingernail hardener with epoxy that I need to find,” she said, glancing down at her carefully groomed nails. “Not a single store in Cougar Point carries it.”

“Don't they use epoxy in glue?” Russ frowned as he stared down at her hands. “If you want to go putting that stuff on your pretty nails, far be it from me to stop you.”

“Thank you,” she said graciously, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “After that, I thought, since I was in town, I'd pick up a few other things for the sheer joy of using my American Express card.”

Russ chuckled. “Would you mind if I tagged along?”

“Of course not,” she said promptly. She didn't mind. In fact—perversely—the prospect delighted her.

Over the past few weeks and all the disagreements, Taylor had forgotten what pleasant company Russ could be. He was good-natured and patient to a fault as she dragged him from one store to the next. He was more than tolerant while she tried on a series of dresses, and after she chose one, he went with her to the shoe department and helped her pick out a comfortable pair of heels.

Taylor tried to return the favor and help him choose new work shirts. Russ seemed to be of the opinion that if he found one shirt that suited him, he might as well buy five exactly like it. Taylor made a concerted effort to convince him otherwise.

“Where would you like to go for lunch?” Russ asked four hours later. His arms were loaded with a large number of bags and packages as he led the way down the street.

“Since you asked,” Taylor said, smiling up at him, “I'm dying for a good pepperoni pizza, only—”

“Only what?”

“Only my favorite pizza chain doesn't have inside seating.”

Russ looked at her as if she were deranged. “How do they do business then?”

“It's take-out and delivery only.”

“All right,” he said, mulling over this information. “Then I suggest we go back to the hotel. You can drop off the packages in your room while I phone and order a large pepperoni pizza.”

Taylor agreed without realizing what she'd done until it was too late. After returning to her room, she piled her shopping on the double bed, then sat on the edge while she considered this latest development. She'd agreed to join Russ in his room. In the middle of the day. With no one else around.

Walking into the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair. She toyed with the idea of finding an excuse, phoning Russ's room and canceling the whole thing. The hotel was filled with restaurants. The food was good and so reasonably priced it was a shame to order out.

Taylor slumped against the bathroom sink and closed her eyes dejectedly. Who was she kidding? Certainly not herself. She was in love with Russ and had been for weeks. They had no business falling in love, but it had happened, and instead of fighting it she should be grateful. Her attitude should be one of thanksgiving that she'd come across a man as fundamentally honest as Russ. There was no comparison to Mark, none whatsoever.

Five minutes later, she knocked on Russ's door. He let her in but had obviously been having second thoughts of his own. He marched to the other side of the room as though he feared she was carrying some dangerous virus.

“I phoned that pizza place and ordered,” he said, apparently trying to sound casual. He tucked his hands into his pockets as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with them. “They said they'd be here in thirty minutes or less.” He checked his watch. “That gives them nearly twenty-five minutes.”

“Good,” Taylor said, walking farther into the room. His was almost identical to her own. One queen-size bed, a dresser, one small table and two chairs.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, pulling over a chair. Then he walked around the bed, averting his eyes.

“That was quite a morning we had, wasn't it?” he asked, rubbing his palms together. Heaving a sigh, he whirled around and faced her. “Listen, Taylor, this isn't going to work. If you want to have your pizza, fine, but I've got to get out of here.”

“You don't have to leave,” she said as she sauntered across the room, making sure her hips swayed just a fraction more than normal. When she turned to look at Russ, she was well rewarded for the little extra she'd put into her walk. His jaw was tight, and the edges of his mouth had whitened. His hands were knotted into fists at his sides.

“I…don't think you understand,” Russ said faintly.

She moved close so that she was almost directly in front of him. Standing on her toes, she raised her arms and slid them around his neck, then molded her body against his.

Russ held himself completely rigid. Then he brought up his hands and closed them around her wrists, ready to pull her away from him. For some reason he hesitated. His gaze was hot and questioning when it locked with hers. “Just what kind of game are you playing?”

“The seductress. How am I doing?”

His gaze narrowed, and she noted that his breathing had become ragged. “Good. Too good.”

He gazed down on her, his look a mixture of doubt and wonder. “Do you love me?” he asked.

She found herself lost, the words confusing her before they even reached her lips. Before she could tell him everything, before she could explain what was in her heart, Russ sighed and hauled her back in his arms.

His hands were in her hair, and his mouth was seeking hers. “It doesn't matter,” he whispered brokenly. “I love you enough for both of us. It doesn't matter,” he said again, just before his hungry lips claimed hers.

The passion between them was explosive. Tears clouded her eyes and fell down her face without restraint. But these were tears of joy, tears of thanksgiving and discovery, surging from deep within.

“I love you, I love you,” she chanted silently as she felt the tremors that went through Russ. He pulled her against him and held on as if he'd jerked her from the jaws of death and feared losing her a second time.

For the longest moment he didn't move.

“Russ?” she whispered. “What's wrong?”

The merest hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward and with infinite care he brushed the hair from her brow. His callused, work-roughened hands had begun to shake.

“Russ?” she repeated, growing alarmed. Her hands framed his face, and he dragged one palm across his cheek to his lips and kissed the inside of her hand.

“I need to explain something first,” he whispered, and the words seemed to be pulled from the farthest reaches of his soul. “If we make love now, there'll be no turning back.”

Taylor blinked. She heard the desperation in his voice and read the havoc in his handsome face.

Her own mind was reeling, her thoughts jumbled. Had she been able to speak, her words would have made no sense.

Russ lowered his mouth to hers, but his kiss was featherlight. “Look at me,” he whispered. “I want you so much I'm shaking like a newborn calf. All these weeks I've dreamed of this moment, of making you mine, and when the time arrives, I discover…I can't.”

Not according to the evidence pressing against her thigh. Taylor didn't know a delicate, or even indelicate, way of mentioning the fact.

“I know your career is important to you, and it should be. You worked too hard for your education to give it up now,” he said.

“That's r-right,” Taylor returned, puzzled.

Holding her hand in his own, Russ whispered, “And another thing…”

“There's more?”

“Lots more,” he said, grinning down at her. His mouth brushed hers in a lazy, affectionate kiss. “I know you haven't come to appreciate Cougar Point yet, but that's all right. I promise you will in time. There's something about standing outside on a crisp autumn night and seeing the moonlight through the branches. Or hearing the crunch of snow under your boots in winter. In spring it's newborn animals, the smell of the earth and the rush of wind as it blows over the treetops. Those are the things I love most.”

Taylor frowned in confusion. Her hands went back to his face and she studied him, seeking some meaning to his words. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I want you to love my home as much as I do. I want you to love the country. Cougar Point will never rival Seattle. It won't even rival Reno, but it's a good place to live, a good place to raise a family.”

Taylor had no argument with that. None. From the first, she'd seen how strong the sense of family was in this small community. “In the beginning I was so lost. Moving to Montana was like visiting a foreign country. Time seemed to have been turned back thirty years.”

“What about ranch life?”

Again she wasn't sure what he was asking. “In many ways it's beautiful. I never thought I could say that and mean it. At first all I saw was the harshness of the land, and how unforgiving it could be. I saw how hard you and the others work. How busy you are. I learned a little about the problems and wondered why anyone would bother when ranching's such a demanding way of life.”

“And now?”

“Now…there's still a great deal I don't understand about your kind of life, and I probably never will, but I see the contentment of knowing you've worked hard.” She hesitated, surprised at how well-formed her thoughts actually were since she'd never voiced them before. “I moved to Cougar Point looking for one thing and found something else entirely. In the past few weeks I've learned what's important in life and what isn't.”

Russ smiled and rewarded her with a lengthy kiss. “Now that we've got that subject all cleared up, I want you to know that I consider babies a woman's business….”

Bracing her hands against his chest, Taylor lifted her head. “What are you talking about? Honestly, Russ, I have no idea where this conversation is going.”

His mouth dropped open. “You don't?”

She shook her head.

“Good grief, I thought you knew all along. I'm asking you to marry me.”

“M
arriage!” Taylor said, stunned. “You're joking.”

“Trust me, a man doesn't joke about something like this.”

All at once Taylor's knees didn't feel as if they would support her anymore, and she slumped onto the bed. Breathless and light-headed. She held her hand over her heart in an effort to calm its erratic beating, but that didn't seem to help.

“Taylor, what's wrong?” Russ knelt in front of her and took both her hands in his own. “You look like you're about to faint.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“What's wrong?”

She pointed at his door. “When I walked into this room, I wasn't thinking about getting married. Not for a second.”

“Do you mean to say you came here after my body? Well, and the pizza, of course,” he added with a laugh.

“Your body? Don't go all righteous on me,” she muttered. “You've been after mine for weeks.”

“I've reconsidered,” Russ said with infuriating calm. “I want more than an occasional tumble with you. A whole lot more.”

“Isn't marriage carrying this a little too far?”

“No. Is it so wrong to want to wake up with you at my side?”

“You shouldn't hit a woman with this kind of talk. I'm not prepared for it.” She pulled her hands from his and waved them dramatically. “Out of the blue he starts talking about marriage.”

Russ ignored her outburst and sat beside her on the bed. “When I come into the house after a hard day's work, it's you I want to find.”

Taylor's gaze narrowed. “I suppose it's me you want cooking your dinner and laundering your clothes!”

“Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “Because I'll have spent the past twelve or more hours building a good life for us. But if washing a load of clothes bothers you so much, I'll bring someone in. I'm not marrying you for your domestic talents.”

He was serious. “Russ,” she whispered, running her hands down his face, “marriage isn't something we should discuss now. Let's talk about it later…much, much later.” Leaning forward, she slanted her mouth over his. Russ resisted her at first but quickly surrendered. His response was gratifying.

He wrapped his arms around her, and his returning kiss was urgent, charged with unleashed passion. As their kissing intensified, Russ eased her onto the bed and positioned himself above her.

“Taylor…” He lifted his head and groaned. He looked like a man who didn't know what to do, a man trapped in one world, seeking entrance to another. His eyes were shut.

Taylor had no answers to give him. All she knew was that she was tired of fighting this feeling, tired of living a life filled with denial. She hadn't meant to fall in love with Russ Palmer, but she had. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she directed his lips back to hers.

She yearned for more of him. He kissed her again, and she felt it in every part of her body, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

When she least expected it, he started kissing her in a fierce and raging storm of his own, and then without warning, he moved away from her.

With shaking hands, Taylor said, “Russ?” She kissed him lightly. “Why did you stop?”

“I already told you. If we're going to make love, even once, there's no turning back. I've got to have more from you than your body…. I want you for my wife.”

“Does it have to be all or nothing?”

“Yes,” he said forcefully.

“But why talk about marriage now?” she asked gently. “Isn't that something we could consider later?”

“No…it'll be too late to think about it afterward,” he said fervently. “If we're going to make love, there's got to be a commitment between us.”

“But Russ…” She wasn't sure why she was fighting him so hard; the reasons had escaped her. She'd already admitted she loved him, and if she'd gone that far, then accepting responsibility for their feelings was the next logical step. Only she felt as if she'd just learned to walk and Russ was signing her up for a marathon.

Russ took her by the shoulders. “I realize things are done differently in the city. Men and women change partners as often as they do their sheets. I've read about ‘swinging singles' and ‘hooking up.'”

“That's not true,” Taylor argued. “At least not for me. There's only been one other man in my life, and it was the biggest mistake I've ever made.”

“Then don't repeat it. I'm offering you what Mark never would have, because I don't want anything less. When we make love, there won't be any doubt in your mind about my commitment to you. It's complete and total. When I told you I loved you, that wasn't a momentary thing based on physical attraction or a case of overactive hormones. It's something that's been growing from the first moment we met. It's not going to change or go away. I love you, and it's the first time I've ever said that to a woman and truly meant it.”

A lump formed in Taylor's throat, and tears brimmed in her eyes. “But we're so different….”

“Of course we are,” Russ said, tucking both her hands between his. “That's the crazy part in all this. At first I thought those differences would doom any chance of a lasting relationship between us. I figured we didn't have any business joining our lives together when our views are so far apart. Then I realized that being with you, fighting with you, has brought balance into my life. You've shown me and taught me things I needed to know. There's a lot I still disagree with, but we can face those issues when they arise. Basically I'm coming around to your way of thinking.”

That was news to Taylor. He still seemed as obstinate as ever in several areas. But then again, he'd allowed Mandy to wear makeup and he'd changed his opinion about the drill team uniform and even agreed to her compromise on the dating issue. There'd been other changes, too. Subtle ones. When she argued with him now, Russ listened and weighed her argument, which was something she'd never gotten her father to do. Her mother had always lent a willing ear, but never her father.

“I can see the changes in you, too,” Russ continued. “Remember how you felt when you first moved to Cougar Point? As I recall, you said it was the farthest corner of the known world. Yet just a moment ago you were telling me you've come to appreciate some of the qualities of small-town living. True, no merchant in town accepts American Express, but who knows? And if you really get a craving to use that card, Billings isn't all that far.”

“It's three and a half hours,” she muttered, resisting the urge to laugh. She was actually considering this crazy proposal of his! What he said about Mark had hit home. The months apart had given her perspective. Russ was right; Mark would never have married her.

“Billings is only three hours, and that isn't far,” he explained eagerly. “If you like, we'll make a regular weekend trip of it and spend our days shopping and our nights making love. I'm willing to compromise. If doing housework offends you—”

“That's not it!”

“Then what is?”

For the life of her, Taylor couldn't think of a single argument that made sense. She stuck with one that was tried and true. “It's the idea of a woman working for a wage and then being expected to do everything else at home, too. If a wife works outside the home, her husband should do his share of the housework and rearing the children.”

“I agree,” Russ murmured, although it looked as if he'd had to swallow a watermelon to say so. “But that's also why I feel a mother's place is in the home.”

“Oh, please, let's not get into that again.”

“Right,” Russ said emphatically. “We could inadvertently start another war, and the last thing I want to do is fight with you. I love you, Taylor. Heaven help me, but it's true.”

She raised her hand and caressed the side of his face. “I love you, too.”

Russ pressed his own hand over hers and sighed deeply. “I knew you did. I couldn't believe anything else because it hurt too damn much. I swear to you, Taylor, I've never been a jealous man, but when you were having dinner with Cody Franklin last weekend, it took every ounce of restraint I possess not to march across that restaurant, pick you up and carry you out of there.”

Taylor smiled and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. Her lips brushed his. “I'm not much for the green-eyed monster myself, but Mary Lu Randall should consider herself a lucky woman. I felt like tearing her hair out.”

“Does this mean you'll marry me?”

Taylor closed her eyes and waited for a list of sound, rational arguments to convince her otherwise. To her surprise there were none. “Yes….”

With a triumphant shout loud enough to crack the windows, Russ bolted to his feet, taking her with him. With his arm at her waist, he whirled her around until Taylor, laughing, begged him to stop.

Instead, he lifted her higher and higher until she supported her hands on his shoulders and threw back her head.

The knock on the door caught them both by surprise. Taylor's eyes found Russ's. She didn't even want to imagine who was on the other side.

“Who is it?” Russ demanded, carefully lowering her to the floor.

“Pizza delivery.”

Taylor hurriedly arranged her clothes and paused to smile when she heard that. She'd completely forgotten about the pizza.

Russ paid for their meal and brought the cardboard box and a stack of napkins inside. The scent of pepperoni and melting cheese filled the room.

Taking the box from Russ, Taylor placed it on the table and immediately opened it, inhaling deeply. She was grateful for the napkins the delivery boy had included, and pulled a slice free for Russ. Next she helped herself, savoring the first delicious bite.

“Taylor,” Russ groaned, sitting in the chair across from her, “we're having the most important discussion of our lives. How can you eat at a time like this?”

“The pizza is hot
now,
” she said, and gobbled down two extra bites, in case he convinced her to put it aside.

“I suppose we're going to have to figure out how to get your pizza fix, too, aren't we?”

She nodded. “At least once a month, please.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, my goodness, I'd forgotten how wonderful a pizza can taste. Russ, I'm sorry, but I can't marry you unless we arrange to have a decent pepperoni pizza every few weeks.”

“The bowling alley—”

“Makes a great breakfast, but someone has to let those people know that good pizza is made fresh and doesn't come out of the freezer.”

Russ jammed his fingers through his hair. “I'll do what I can. Anything else?”

“When are we going to announce the engagement? Christmas time?”

Russ stood abruptly and started pacing. He didn't look at her and seemed to be composing his thoughts.

“Russ?”

He turned to face her. “Taylor, I want us to get married this afternoon. I know you're entitled to a big wedding with the fancy dress and the dinner and dancing and everything else, but dammit all, we could be married within the hour if you'd agree.”

The pizza that had seemed so important a few minutes before was forgotten. “You want us to get married
now
?
Today?
”

“We're in Reno, aren't we? What else do folks do in this town?”

She shrugged, and when she started to speak, her voice sounded as though she'd suddenly been struck with laryngitis. “I understand gambling is a big interest.”

“Okay,” Russ said, rubbing the side of his jaw, clearly calling upon all his powers of self-control. “Rushing you wouldn't be fair. I've been thinking for weeks about us getting married, but for you it's coming out of the blue. If you want to wait until Christmas, then fine. I can accept that. I don't like it, and I don't know how I'm going to keep my hands off you till then, but I'll try.”

“You know what they say: marry in haste, repent at leisure,” she felt obliged to remind him.

“Right,” he returned with a complete and total lack of conviction. “When we look back on our wedding day, I don't want there to be any regrets. None.”

“I certainly wouldn't want you to have any, either.”

“The best thing to do is take this nice and slow,” he said, raising both hands. “You're a teacher, so you tend to be methodical, and although you've seen evidence to the contrary, I'm not normally one to act on impulse, either.”

“I don't think you heard me correctly,” Taylor murmured, because he really had misunderstood her. “I thought we'd
announce
our engagement this Christmas.”

Russ whirled around and stared at her, looking even more disgruntled. “Are you saying you'd like to be a traditional June bride?”

“School will be out, and it makes sense, doesn't it? But then, I'm not really much of a traditionalist.”