Wedding Survivor (13 page)

As he turned onto her street, Eli said, "Okay, woman, all kidding and bitching aside—we're leaving in less than two months to go canyoning. We have to have the details of this so-called wedding nailed down by then. Do you understand? You can't sit around talking about cakes all day. You have to get her
nailed down
."

"Roger,
el capitan
. We'll show up in Colorado in our combat gear and have the kind of wedding
you'd
like to have."

Eli glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You assume too much, you know that? You assume you know where I'm coming from, and you really don't."

Whatever. He was a wet blanket and she sort of figured it really didn't matter where he was coming from. Nothing was going to change. "All right, all right—I don't know you, I don't get you, but that's okay. I don't really
need
to get you to plan their wedding, right?"

"Well… right," he said, sounding unconvinced. "Just please do what we need."

"Fine," she snapped. Miffed by the change in his demeanor after such a great dinner, she turned away in a huff and looked out her window. And saw a shape lying against the curb. As Eli drove past, she shrieked.

Eli jerked the wheel with a start. "What the hell?"

"Stop the car, stop the
car
!" she cried, pounding the dash.

Eli slammed on the brakes. "Jesus, what is it?"

She didn't want to say, didn't want to believe it. And besides, she was already out of the truck, running back to the shape.

Bingo was lying almost motionless, but at the sound of Marnie's heels on the pavement, he lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder at her, his big brown eyes full of fear and pain.

THEY wrapped Bingo in Eli's jacket and took him to the twenty-four-hour pet emergency room. Marnie went running inside, demanding help, as Eli lifted the dog in his arms and carried him in.

The vet told Marnie it was a good thing she'd spotted the poor dog, or else he might have died of hypothermia and shock. Eli wasn't sure how badly he'd been hit, but he suggested to the vet that the fact the dog was alert and whimpering was a good sign. The vet agreed and asked them to wait while he took Bingo back for X rays and an assessment.

They watched the vet carry him back, then Marnie slipped into a seat and buried her face in her hands.

She looked so forlorn, so distressed, that Eli sat next to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. For such a spunky woman, she sure felt fragile beneath his arm.

Marnie slowly slid into him, so that she was pressed against him, with her face still in her hands. "
Mam-mu
," she muttered tearfully.

He tried to decipher that for a moment before bending his head down to hers. "What?"

"
Mam-mu
," she muttered again, only an octave higher.

He squeezed her fragile shoulders. "I'm sorry, Marnie. I can't understand you."

She drew a big gulp of air and lifted her head; her eyes glistened with tears. "Thank you," she said, dragging a hand under her nose. She grabbed his knee with both hands. "Thank you for saving Bingo, Eli. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been with me. I know you probably think I'm silly, but I love that old dog."

Eli's gaze fell to her hands on his knees. "I don't think you're silly at all," he said. "I love dogs, too."

Marnie blinked, and more tears spilled down her cheeks. "It's just the way that you took control, and you knew exactly what to do, and you didn't freak out, and you didn't hurt him, and you were so
calm
and assured…" She paused, gulped more air.

Eli sat staring at her slender hands clenching his knee, feeling a little self-conscious. "I did what anyone would do."

"No you didn't," she said sternly. "You saved my dog." She sighed, let go of his knee, and collapsed against the chair, folding her arms across her. "I may not know where you're coming from, but I know one thing—you're a lot softer than you let on."

'Wo," he said with a snort, "I am not soft."

"Yes you are."

"No. I'm really not."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and sniffed. "You're sure?" she asked with a tiny lopsided smile. "Not even a little?"

"Not even a little," he said, and stretched his legs long, shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Yes you are," she murmured.

"Marnie—"

"You
are
," she insisted, laughing now.

Eli sighed. But he was smiling big on the inside.

They waited for what seemed hours. Marnie dozed off while he read a magazine, and before long, she had teetered to the right, propped up against him, dead weight on his shoulder. Her legs were sprawled before her, one cocked at the knee, the other leaning against the first.

She was cute. He grinned appreciatively at how far up her thigh her dress had ridden. Nice thigh. Nice, shapely thigh. He could imagine sinking his head between a pair of thighs like that. Could imagine it so vividly that his pulse began to pick up a little.

Thank God the vet reappeared when he did. "Bingo is going to be fine," he said after Eli nudged Marnie awake. "He's got a fracture, but there doesn't seem to be any internal bleeding. I'd like to keep him overnight for observation. I'd suggest you folks go home and get some sleep. You can pick him up tomorrow afternoon."

"Thanks, doc," Eli said, extending his hand. "Thanks for taking care of Bingo."

"It's my pleasure and my job," he said, taking Eli's hand.

He said good night to them, and Eli and Marnie walked outside into cool night air. "Are you cold?" Eli asked as Marnie wrapped her arms around herself.

"A little."

Eh glanced back at the emergency vet. "Bingo's got my jacket."

"I'll be all right." But she was clearly shivering.

Eli put his arm around her and pulled her into his side. "You've never been right is what I'm thinking," he said.

"Me?" she protested, nudging him with her elbow as they began to walk to his truck. "This from a man who was obviously impaled on a stick because he's so stiff and unbending all the time."

Eli opened the truck door for her, and watched her long legs bend to get in the cab. He shook his head once to clear it as he walked around the back of the truck to the driver's side. But her legs were still there in his head, and he knew, as he turned the ignition, that he was going to have a hard time getting them out of his head. And that smile. Not to mention the hair.

"I can't stand to think of him lying there," Marnie said as they drove out of the parking lot. "He must have been so scared."

Eli couldn't stand to think of it either—it brought to mind the dozen dogs he'd had in his life, ending with Hank, his golden, who had died of cancer a couple of years ago. God, he'd loved that dog, and felt the lump at the back of his throat even now. So he changed the subject. "He's going to be all right. So listen, I'm out of town for a couple of days. Let's review: No arches, no spectacular waterworks, and no sky-diving routines for this wedding, right?"

Marnie groaned and dropped her head back against the headrest. "You are impossible. What is it with men and weddings? Why can't you just admit that the day is as special for men as it is for women? It doesn't make you any less macho to get married under an arch," she said, and proceeded to tell him how special arches made the world in general until they reached her house.

He pulled in behind her car and got out, walked around to her side as she opened the door, and offered his hand as she slid out of the car.

Marnie took it. And didn't let go. She just kept holding his hand with a shy smile and a look of tenderness in her big brown eyes. "Thanks, Eli. I mean it. From the bottom of my heart," she said, and squeezed his hand.

"Don't mention it."

"I have to mention it." She smiled, stepped closer, so that she was brushing against him in that skimpy dress, and looking at him with eyes that could swallow a man whole if he let them. A warning went off in Eli's brain, clanging like a railroad crossing, but he felt paralyzed, unable to get out of the way of the freight train that was headed right for him.

Marnie rose up on her toes, touched her lips to the corner of his, and just sort of lingered there for a moment…

her very soft, very warm lips on his. Then she slowly slipped down.

"Thanks," she said, and slid her hand from his before stepping back. Only now she was flashing a sexy, devilish smile at him. "I'm going to go look at some china settings with Olivia tomorrow. I suppose when you get back you'll want to get together so you can tell me she can't have china settings, either?"

Eli blinked, made himself step back into the here and now, and laughed. "I'm not waiting until I get back, coppertop. I'll be calling you every day. Which reminds me," he said, and he stepped around her, reached into the glove box of his truck, and handed her a cell phone. "Keep it on you. I want to be able to deep-six china settings at a moment's notice."

Marnie smiled broadly as she took the phone. "Nice one. I'll see if I can get it to work." And she winked back at him, touched her hand to his once more, and stepped around him. "Thanks again, Eli. For dinner. For Bingo…"

"Yeah," he said, and shoved a hand through his hair, feeling awkward, as if he were on a date or something. But this was not a date. Not even close. This was not even in the same universe as a date.

Marnie seemed to sense his awkwardness and laughed lightly before starting up the walk to her house.

"Remember what we talked about!" he called after her.

"Manage expectations!" she responded over her shoulder and continued on, swinging that lovely ass as she walked.

Eli watched her walk all the way to the door. It was the polite thing to do, he told himself, although he knew damn well it had nothing to do with polite. She put a key in the lock, and pushed it open a little, then turned and waved to him before disappearing inside.

Only then could Eli make his legs move, and he got in his truck, started it up, and wondered what the hell just happened to him. Whatever it was, it felt alarmingly good.