Wedding For One: Wedding For One / Tattoo For Two

“Meaningful?”

“Exactly.”

“As my mother says, what’s more meaningful than candy?”

He laughed. “Your mother’s something else.”

“I know. And, Nathan…” She looked down, then up at him. “I really appreciate all you’ve done for my parents—looking out for them, working with my dad these past years.”

Mariah’s words made Nathan realize how much more mature she’d become. She’d seemed so scared and uncertain at seventeen, he’d wanted to protect her from everything. Now, besides being more beautiful, she’d become more confident, more sure of her place in the world.

“It’s been a pleasure,” he said, pushing away his observations. “They’re great people. Like family. But I think it’s time for me to move on.”

His words seemed to worry her. For a second, he had the insane hope she didn’t want to lose him. “What are you thinking of doing?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I signed up for a conference to explore my options. It’s a retreat for business people tired of business.”

She was trying not to laugh, he could see. Her face had always revealed every feeling. “A retreat for businessmen? Isn’t that an oxymoron—like jumbo shrimp or military intelligence?”

“Not at all.” He’d explain it in its best light. “They have career counselors there. Motivational speakers. Aptitude tests, résumé analysis and, I don’t know, discussions. Speakers who’ve broken off and done different work. It’s a place to start.”

“Mom thinks you’re just having an early midlife crisis.”

He barely managed a smile. “She may be right. I just know I can’t stay here.”

“My parents are completely freaked about you leaving.”

“We’ve got good staff. The floor manager, Dave Woods, could probably take over. He’s not as passionate about the product as your dad, but he’d do fine. As far as that goes, we could hire a headhunter to find someone your dad likes.”

“That would take a while, wouldn’t it? Maybe you just need a breather. A vacation or something?”

“A vacation won’t do it. I’ve decided.”

“What does your girlfriend think about you leaving?”

His eyes shot to her. “How did you know…?”

“How else? Meredith, who knows all and tells all.”

He smiled. “She doesn’t know all, I guess, since Beth and I broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

So that was why he was leaving. “I’m sorry, Nathan, but you might be able to work this out. Sometimes things seem bad—”

“Beth’s not the reason I’m leaving.” Except that his very lack of feeling for her had proved he had to get away. “I just need to go,” he said firmly.

“You’ve got your house up for sale.” Mariah worried her lip.

“Yeah. I figure I’ll find a place in southern California when I’m out there for the conference.”

“You’re moving to California without a job? With housing prices the way they are? That’s not very sensible.”

He shrugged. “I’ll play it by ear.”

“This doesn’t sound like you. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” She pretended to check his forehead for a fever.

He braced himself against the sweet brush of her fingers and managed a smile. It was out of character, but if he didn’t break out, do something different, he’d never stop clinging to the impossible.

“The kind of life you’re thinking about is not as romantic as it sounds. It’s uncertain and kind of scary.” She slid closer to him on the couch. “Believe me. I’m living it.”

Her lips were so red, so inviting…. After that first kiss eight years ago at the dry creek make-out spot, he’d have done anything for more of that mouth.

“Definitely not you,” she concluded, shaking her head.

“That’s the point. I’ve had enough of being me.” He wasn’t about to explain that she was the reason he needed to escape. “And how is it you know what’s me anyway? We haven’t seen each other for eight years, when you ran away from me.” He gulped. He hadn’t meant to go there.

“I wasn’t running from you. I was running for me,” she said. “Besides, at the time I thought you were doing the same thing, remember?” She smiled wistfully, laughed a little.

“Of course I wasn’t doing that. I—”

“I know, Nathan,” she interrupted. “Drunken bachelor party, rocks in the wheel, slow ride with Farmer Jim, everything. It’s fine. We were just lucky my mom made that remark about my Pop Tart in the toaster.”

“Your what?” What was she talking about?

“Never mind. I just mean my mom did us a favor by telling me you thought I was pregnant.” She seemed troubled by what she’d said, so she glanced away from him, out the window. “Oh, look, there are some baby quail under that mesquite.” She rushed to the window carrying her wine, clearly wanting to change the subject.

“They were born in the yard a couple weeks ago,” he said, following her to the window. “You should hear their parents squawk them into line.”

She was silent for a moment, watching the birds. She spoke, still looking out the window. “You were marrying me under false pretenses, Nathan.”

He had the insane desire to take her by the shoulders, turn her and tell her the truth. I wanted you no matter what. Pregnant and all. I loved you. I still do.

As if she’d read his mind, she turned to face him. Maybe she felt the same.

His heart stopped and he held his breath, waiting for her to say it.

“We would have made each other miserable,” she said with a short laugh.

His heart started up its slow, sad rhythm and he released his breath. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing hard. “Miserable.”

“Thank God we’re past all that.” She lifted her glass to clink against his. “It was for the best.”

He clinked back and managed a smile, but he couldn’t echo her toast. “So, now I’m taking a page from your book. Hitting the road, being free. You should be happy for me.”

“Freedom’s not good for some people.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“No offense, but how could you give up all this?” She indicated his living room.

“Would you want to live here?” he asked.

“Not me!” She stopped. “Sorry, I just mean, this is you.”

Maybe, but he figured turning his life upside down would keep him too busy to mope about her.

“It looks like you’re serious about leaving.” Mariah sighed as she headed back to the couch. “So, what should we do about my parents?”

“They’ll be fine,” he said, but guilt tightened his gut. He did hate hurting Abe and Meredith. They’d been like parents to him—or at least the way he thought parents were supposed to be. His mom had been more like an older sister, way too relaxed about her motherly duties. Abe and Meredith counted on him and now he was letting them down. He wished he could fix that.

And then, looking into Mariah’s face, the solution came to him. It was a long shot, but it would give him a way to keep Mariah too busy to poke around in his motivation for leaving. “If you’re really worried about them, why don’t you stay?” he said. “You could take over for me.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Her glass sloshed.

He caught it before anything spilled. “Not at all. You’ve had business experience. You managed a restaurant and a boutique, didn’t you?” The idea was sounding better and better, except for the horrified look on her face, which made him want to grin. He hadn’t wanted to grin in a long time.

“I was a waitress and sold jewelry on consignment. Like I said, Mom tends to exaggerate.”

“You learn a business from the ground up anyway. If you’re smart and motivated, the sky’s the limit.”

“Tell that to the Caravan Travel Agency. I motivated them right into a three-month slump with a couple of my out-of-the-way trip ideas. Turns out there are reasons some places are out of the way—like ankle-eating fleas and no flush toilets.”

He shrugged. “I could teach you all you need to know before I leave. You said you’re between jobs. Maybe you need to try stability on for size—changing jobs can be a rut, too.”

“I could never stay here. My mom’s probably already picking out paint to redo my room and signing me up to sing in the church choir. It would be crazy.”

“No more crazy than asking me to stay.”

She gave him a long look. “I suppose so.” She paused. “When do you leave?”

“In two months, when I go to the conference. How about you? How long will you be in town?” He hope he didn’t sound too interested.

She didn’t answer immediately, and he could practically see her mental gears whirring through their calculations. “I’ll stay until I figure out what to do about my parents. And you.” She gave him a Cheshire cat grin he’d never seen before. Eight years ago, she’d been too uncertain to act mischievous around him. What the hell was she cooking up? The prospect of finding out made him happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

“SO HOW WAS NATE?” Nikki asked Mariah the next day when she called home.

“Great,” she said.

“Nate the Great. Poetry. How did he look?”

“Great.”

“If you don’t give me details right now I’ll go moshing in your Madonna bustier and get it all sweat-stained.”

“Okay, okay. He looked the same. Better. More built, more masculine, more confident. I don’t know.”

“Does he still act like he’s got a stick up his—”

“Nikki!”

“Well, really. He’s definitely a Wall-Street-Journal-with-breakfast-martini-after-work guy.”

“He’s different now. He wants to discover himself. It’s kind of cute, really.” She explained Nathan’s desire to search for meaning in his life. “He kind of reminds me of me.”

Her friend paused. “Jeez Louise, Mariah. You’re still hot for the guy, aren’t you?”

“No more than any woman would be. He’s still a babe, and I’m only human.”

“So, sleep with him. That’ll clear the cobwebs from his psyche. Talk about finding himself. Whoo, baby.”

“That would be manipulative. Besides, I doubt he wants to sleep with me.” Not true. She’d definitely felt vibes. That was gratifying, but unsettling, too. “It would just complicate things.”

“For who? Two months and out, remember? How deep can it get in two months?”

That was the rebel girls’ philosophy on relationships. In two months, the sex was still fresh, both of you were on your best behavior, solicitous and eager to see each other. After two months, you started taking each other for granted, stopped doing the dishes at each other’s place. Soon, the guy was scratching his belly and belching in front of you, and you stopped wearing makeup and lace teddies.

On the other hand, Mariah had begun to weary of the constant change. That’s why she’d taken a timeout on dating. That way she didn’t have to be on guard against leading someone on. It was lonely, but at least no one got hurt.

“He might get too attached,” she said.

“Right,” Nikki said. “He might.”

“There’s no point to it, Nikki. If I convince him to stick around here, which is where he belongs, I certainly won’t be staying. The best thing I ever did for Nathan Goodman was to climb in your car and drive away from that stupid wedding.”

“Take a breath, girlfriend. I’m not the one who needs convincing.”

“Anyway, what I have to do is get him through this career crisis, so he can realize he’s happy where he is. I’ve got two months.”

“Two months, huh?”

“Yeah, until he goes on some kind of self-discovery retreat in California.”

“Nathan Goodman at a retreat? You’re kidding!”

“Crazy, huh? Hell, I could probably teach the thing. If you can take a class in it, join a club about it or buy a self-help book for it, I’ve taken it, joined it or bought it.”

Nikki paused. “You could, you know.”

“What?”

“Teach him. Give him his own private retreat. The Mariah Monroe Institute of Self-Discovery.”

“Hmm. Not bad…” Actually, it was a great idea. And it could be a shortcut to keeping him at Copper Corners. “I could. I could teach him to meditate, do yoga. I could even do a little Gestalt therapy with him.”

“Absolutely.”

“And you know the best part?”

“What?”

“He’ll hate it. Left-brain guys like Nathan hate meditation and energy flow, exploring their emotions, any of that stuff. The yoga postures will make him feel silly.”

“And when you ask him to get in touch with his inner child?”

“He’ll run screaming from the room, forget all about that stupid retreat and realize the grass is greener right here in Copper Corners.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“It couldn’t be better.” She gave Nikki a list of self-help books, manuals and materials to send to her, and hung up.

It would work out great. In a few weeks, her father could safely retire, leaving his factory in the hands of the newly contented Nathan, and Mariah would be back on track to whatever the future brought. Whatever it was, it had to be better than Copper Corners and the church choir.

3

TWO DAYS LATER, Mariah rang Nathan’s doorbell. He opened the door, then stared at her, blinking sleepily. “What the…?”

“Help me,” she said, tilting some books and the yoga mats from her arms into his.

He backed up under the load. “It’s six-thirty in the morning. What are you doing here?”

“The early bird catches the self-awareness worm,” she said, pushing past him and loping into the living room, where she dropped her folded easel, collection of CDs, candles and more books on the cocktail table. The truth was, she hadn’t been able to sleep for planning her approach, so she’d rushed over.

“What are you talking about?” He followed her, looking dazed.

“It’s simple. I’m going to give you your own personal retreat,” she said. “You don’t need to spend a fortune to sit around and whine with a bunch of corporate clods in California. I can get you straightened out right here—a customized self-awareness experience in your own home.”

“What?” He looked completely stunned. Maybe she should have given him a few minutes to wake up.

“Sure. I’ve got all the experience you need,” she said patiently. She proceeded to recite her self-actualization curriculum vitae while he stood blinking at her, holding the books and yoga mats.

As she talked, she noticed how great he looked right out of bed. There was a charming pillow crease on his cheek and dark, sexy stubble that made him look born-to-raise-hell-ish—an effect completely ruined by the monogram on his robe and the crisp seams at the shoulders and sides. The thing had been steam-pressed. Sheesh. This guy was so far from free-to-be she couldn’t imagine where he got the idea that was what he wanted. It should be a cakewalk making him long for his uptight way of life.

“So what do you say?” she asked when she finished with her credentials.

Nathan blinked. “I need coffee.” He dropped the armload of stuff beside hers on the table and turned toward the kitchen.

“Oh, no coffee,” she said, rushing to stand in front of him. “Caffeine is a stimulant. It confuses the body’s natural wake-up mechanism.”

“The body’s what?”

“Look, Nathan. I’m going to save you a ton of money and wasted time. We should get started right. No coffee.”

He looked at her for a long moment. “I need a shower,” he said.

“Dress comfortably,” she called to him as he dazedly lumbered off, mumbling to himself. “We’ll start with meditation and yoga.”

While he was gone, Mariah decided to create the ambience she needed. She closed the wooden shutters so the room’s light dimmed and laid out the yoga mats so they would face each other. She lit a cluster of scented candles and two cones of patchouli-vanilla incense. Considering the size of the room and the high ceiling, she lit three more for good measure.

Then she put on a soothing CD that featured bird songs, wood flutes and soft percussion. Perfectly serene. The light filtered in through the cracks in the shutter slats, cozy and dim. She sat for a moment and took a few calming breaths. She had to be very convincing, so he would trust her to help him.

Hearing footsteps, she opened her eyes. Nathan stood a foot away. He was naked to the waist, wearing only black jersey shorts. Short shorts that showed legs that definitely got regular workouts. His hair gleamed with water and his pectoral muscles were perfect. A light dusting of dark hair filled the middle of his chest and arrowed to his waistband. He looked like he’d stepped out of an ad for Calvin Klein underwear.

“Aren’t you a little chilled?” she asked, finding it hard to swallow. She wished desperately she’d brought one of those long-legged East Indian coverall robes for him to wear.

“It’s a hundred and five outside.” He coughed and waved the incense smoke away. “Where are the marshmallows? Smells like you started a campfire in here.”

“That’s incense,” she said, trying to focus on her task. “Scents are mental cues, bringing direct sensation to the brain. Just breathe it in like this.” She took a deep breath, then burst out coughing. Okay, maybe she’d lit a couple too many cones. Her eyes watered.

Nathan picked up three of the smoking cones, moistened his finger and extinguished them. “Before the fire department gets here, okay?”

“If you insist.” Cough, cough. “Now sit on the mat, and we can get started.”

He obeyed her, sitting across from her, his legs crossed in a decent imitation of her lotus position. Great definition on those legs.

“So, what did you decide? You going to let me help you?”

He gave her a look that made her nervous. He had something up his sleeve. “On one condition.”

Uh-oh. “What’s that?”

“That you work with me at Cactus Confections.”

“What?”

“Just assist me. I’ll show you the business and what I do and let you get a feel for the place.”

“I told you I won’t stay.”

“Think of it as research so you can help your dad hire my replacement.”

“That’s ridiculous, Nathan. We don’t need your replacement because you’ll be staying.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

“No way.”

“Take it or leave it. I’ll do what you want if you’ll do what I want. Even steven.” His blue eyes crackled at her.

“Even steven? That’s so high school.”

“Maybe so, but that’s how it’s gotta be.” His jaw was firm.

Okay, what would it hurt? She’d take a tour, admire the place for Nathan’s benefit while she straightened out his life. “You drive a hard bargain, Nathan Goodman.”

“I’m a businessman.” He waved at the lingering smoke. “And you set a mean fire.”

“Very funny.”

“Okay, how does this go?” He closed his eyes and said, “Ommmm.”

“If you’re going to make fun, then forget it.”

“Sorry.” He grinned mischievously at her.

“We’ve got to tap into your intuitive sense of what you need. It’s a mind-body-spirit thing. Right now, you’re all up in your mind. We need to engage your spirit and your body. Get all your parts working together.”

He pretended to ponder the idea. “Get my parts working together, huh?” There was a crackle of sexual interest in his eyes that she chose to ignore.

“We’ll start with meditation, then yoga, which should free your energy and increase your awareness. Then, we’ll…well, we’ll go from there.” She wouldn’t mention Gestalt therapy yet. Or his inner child.

“And you’ll come with me to the factory, right?”

“As long as you do what I say.”

“Yes, O Mistress of the Soul Search. Your wish is my command.” He pretended to salaam.

“Nathan,” she warned, fighting a smile. She hadn’t seen the playful side of him during their short weeks of courtship. He’d been so serious then. They both had been. He’d been just starting his career and she’d been trying not to blow it with him. Plus, they’d been so hot for each other that most of their time was spent making out, while resisting the hunger to go further. Nathan had thought they should wait because she was so young, and he wanted her to be “ready,” whatever that meant. And then, after he’d proposed, he’d wanted to wait until they were married. It had been so sweet…and sexy. Very sexy.

“So, let’s get meditating,” Nathan said, bringing her back to the present.

“Oh. Okay.” She had to stay focused. “Close your eyes and I’ll lead you through a visualization. Just follow along. If a thought comes into your mind, notice it, then let it go.”

“Okay.”

His broad chest rose and fell, his breathing deep and even. The muscles of his chest and legs rippled a little as he swayed slightly. Even his feet looked strong….

“Now what?” he asked, opening his eyes, catching her staring.

“Oh, um, where was I? Oh, yes. Close your eyes again.” The truth was, she’d never been that great at meditation, even when she wasn’t staring at a gorgeous, nearly-naked man. She found it impossible to slow her mind or settle it on one idea. She loved the music, the candles and the calm, even if the serenity of the experience didn’t last more than a few moments for her.

“Take a deep breath in through your nose, then blow it out slowly through your mouth, counting to seven slowly. Let your cares flow out with your breath. Slow, slow, let it flow out, disappear on the air…Going, going, gone.” She watched him breath out slowly, exactly as she’d instructed. God, he was handsome. Focus, she told herself. “Your breath removes toxins from your body. Now you must remove toxins from your thoughts….”

NATHAN DID what Mariah told him to do—sucking in air and blowing it out. He was more aware, all right. More aware of Mariah. He could smell her, even over the smoky incense and the cloying scent of the candles, and could practically hear her breathing.

“Now, imagine yourself in a peaceful place,” she said in that sexy voice of hers, velvet against his ears. “Absolutely serene. Nothing but pleasant sensations.”

Pleasant sensations, huh? In his mind, he moved to his pool. Cool water, soft motion. Very pleasant. Except then Mariah appeared in a tiny bikini, looking almost edible. Mmm, even more pleasant. She dived to him, all wet and wild. Soon that perfect mouth was doing something way more interesting than whispering in his ear. Oops, he was getting an erection. Did it show? He hoped to hell Mariah had her eyes closed.

He cleared his throat, and tried to think about baseball, or burning a batch of prickly-pear jelly, or bungling his tax return. Anything to stop his body from revealing its response to his meditation on Mariah.

It was no use. “I’m not getting anywhere with this,” he said, his voice raspy. “Maybe we should do something more active. Like jog a couple miles.” Or ice-cold showers.

“Relax, Nathan. It takes time to develop your ability to focus. Be patient. Whatever comes up for you, release it.”

He wasn’t about to “release” what had “come up” for him, that was for sure.

“Let your mind carry you to a place you’d like to be,” Mariah purred.

Instantly he went there—in bed with Mariah, with those trim legs wrapped around his back. Oops. He jumped to his feet. “I need water.” Ice water, strategically applied.

“No coffee, now, remember?” Mariah called to his retreating back. His retreating, muscled back, and his tight butt and strong thighs. At least she’d have a few seconds away from all that raw manhood. She’d hardly been able to keep words coming out of her mouth for the animal awareness she felt. Being this close to him made her whole body—scalp to soles—tingle.

On the other hand, her plan seemed to be working. Already, he was bored out of his mind, asking to do something more physical, jumping up for a drink of water.

In a moment he was back. “So, let’s move on to that yoga thing,” he said brusquely, slopping water as he gulped it down. “Something with movement to it.”

“Okay, but tomorrow we’ll try this again and you can build up your tolerance. Meditation is key to your self-discovery.”

He muttered something that sounded like “God help me,” but she didn’t pursue it. Things were going according to plan.

She started with an easy warm-up, then some simple postures—Rama’s Easy Pose, Stretching Dog, Standing Sun Pose, Tree Pose, then the Dancer Pose. Luckily, he was a quick study and had great balance. She dreaded having to adjust his postures by touch. Putting her hands anywhere on his body would be tough to do without showing some reaction.