Marriage, Bravo Style!

And yet here he was, his head bent close to hers, drinking in the scent of her, hanging on her every word, fingers woven with hers.

He should let go. But he didn’t.

A couple of minutes later, she did it for him. Gently, she eased her hand away, a slight smile curving her beautiful mouth, a blush on her cheeks.

The egg hunt wound down. Then Luke suggested a walk out to the stables. He raised horses on the ranch.

The men agreed to go with him, and the women, taking the children, headed for the kitchen to start pulling the meal together. Rogan gathered what little sanity remained to him and went with the men.

But later, at dinnertime, he caught up with Elena again. They sat together. He took great care not to touch her, not even in passing, not to lean too close. Somehow, he succeeded in getting through the meal without putting his hands on her.

After dinner, everyone helped clear the table. They took a break before dessert. Some wandered into the big living room, some of them chose the game room, which had a pool table and cabinets full of board games. Others went out in back again to sit by the pool or under the trees.

Elena stayed with Mercy, Mary Bravo and Irina in the kitchen. Rogan headed for the game room and played pool with Caleb for a while. Surprisingly, his friend said nothing about the way he’d been hanging all over Elena—sitting beside her at dinner and holding her hand during the egg hunt. Rogan was grateful for Caleb’s silence on the subject. Again, he promised himself to show restraint from now on.

That promise lasted about an hour and a half. Until they all returned to the formal dining room for coffee, coconut cake and homemade ice cream.

Elena had saved a chair for him. What could he do but sit beside her, get lost in her eyes, drown in her laughter, become drunk on the scent of her skin?

After dessert, the two of them went into the living room together. They sat close on one of the long sofas there. By the time everyone started making time-to-go-home noises, he had more or less accepted that he really needed to stop lying to himself, stop making himself promises he was not going to keep.

He liked Elena. A lot. And she clearly liked him. She was twenty-five years old. All grown-up. If he wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with him, well, why not? There was no need to make a big deal out of something so simple.

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