The Best Bride

Her hands were everywhere. His shoulders, chest, neck, arms. Soft skin brushing, stroking. Her small hot mouth pressed against his flat nipples, teasing him to frenzied awareness.

She slipped back and down, settling between his legs. He thought about telling her she didn’t have to do that. He could simply lie here a few minutes and explode from the need. He tried to think about other things, to get control, but every time he closed his eyes, he was back on top of her, touching and tasting her, loving her cries of pleasure, feeling her release against his lips. She’d been made to be pleasured by a man—by him.

Her hands rubbed up and down on his thighs. He looked at her. She nibbled on her lower lip as she studied him, obviously trying to figure something out.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, cursing his mother for raising him right.

“Do what?”

Hell. “Whatever it is that has you confused.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulders. The movement caused her breasts to sway slightly. The sight of her hard peach-colored nipples bouncing in the air made his erection surge toward her.

“I want to, but I’m afraid you won’t like it.”

He tried to laugh. It came out a little strangled.

“I’ve never done this before. I can’t hurt you, can I? I don’t want to, you know, do anything awful.”

The muscles in his legs and arms started twitching. If it wasn’t for the small red incision, bright and angry against her pale flat belly, he’d roll her on her back and bury himself deep inside of her. That would end the debate and the growing pressure.

“I doubt you’d do anything awful,” he said, trying not to grit his teeth. “But we can stop now.”

She smiled. “Did you know the veins on your forehead are sticking out?”

“I’m not surprised,” he muttered, knowing he was being punished for some previous offense. It must have been pretty bad, whatever it was.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He started to sit up, determined to suffer the indignity of a cold shower when she reached forward and touched his arousal.

His groan sounded loud in the silent room. She bent over him, her brown hair falling like an erotic curtain, caressing the tops of his thighs. He sank back on the mattress and held his breath.

Her touch was sweet, wet and tentative. A delicate pressure, careful yet adventurous. He could have exploded then, but thought better of it. Her fingers traced small circles at the base of his desire, moving through the hair, slipping lower to cup his softer parts. Weighing them in her hands tentatively, then moving more boldly when he exhaled his pleasure.

It wouldn’t take long, he knew. A few slow strokes, a flick or two with her tongue and he was ready.

“Elizabeth,” he said, tensing his muscles, ready to stop and have her complete him just with her hands. “You can stop now.”

She looked up and tossed her head. At that second their eyes locked. It was the most erotic sight of his life. Her heart-shaped face poised over his engorged maleness, her breasts swinging freely. Pale on tanned, he saw the lines of her bathing suit. She licked his sensitive tip once, then smiled.

“I don’t want to stop,” she whispered.

And she didn’t.

* * *

It was nearly two in the morning when he woke up. He smiled in the darkness when he felt Elizabeth’s warm body pressing against his side. One of her soft, delicate arms lay across his chest. Her face was buried against his arm. He could smell the scent of her body and the lingering aroma of sex.

In seconds he was hard. He didn’t have to fully form the memory of what she’d done before he was ready to have her do it again and again. He figured he’d get tired of looking at her and making love with her in about fifty years. That thought scared the hell of out of him.

Slowly he slipped out of bed, being careful not to disturb her. He picked up his jeans and stepped into the hallway. After closing the door softly behind him, he pulled on his jeans and buttoned the fly.

He checked to make sure Mandy was sleeping soundly, then picked up her bear off the floor and set it on her pillow. Finally he made his way downstairs. Louise took care of the grocery shopping and kept him stocked with all the essentials. He reached in the back of the refrigerator for a bottle of beer and twisted off the top.

The cold liquid went down easily. Not bothering to turn on any lights, he walked into the family room and settled on the sofa. The leather was cool against his bare back. He shifted to get comfortable, then relaxed and closed his eyes.

A bigamist. He would never have guessed that one. It was hard to believe something like that had happened to someone as sweet as Elizabeth. It wasn’t right. His hand tightened around the beer bottle as if the slick glass were Sam Proctor’s neck.

She’d mentioned that her ex-husband—former husband, or whatever the hell he was to her—was still serving time in prison. Travis was glad. He hoped the bastard never got out. The anger inside of him simmered down to a slow burn, tempered by the question of what he was supposed to do now. Elizabeth had obviously been embarrassed when she’d told him the truth. He’d hated doing that to her. He’d tried to get her to stop talking, but she’d continued on as if finally telling someone about her past was the ultimate act of absolution.

He’d hated knowing she was uncomfortable around him. Had their lovemaking made it better or worse? He shook his head and took another swallow. The knot in his gut told him it was all about to get worse. Damn. He should have handled it better. He shouldn’t have kissed her in the first place, or he should have tried harder to get out of making love with her.

He grinned mockingly. Oh, yeah, Haynes. Get out of it. As if making love with Elizabeth had been some irritating charity work instead of the most incredibly intimate, erotic act of his sorry life.

He rubbed his hand over his face, then scratched his chin. None of this was helping him answer the most important question. Now what? What did he do with the truth, and what about what happened between them last night?

Okay, knowing the truth. That was easy. Elizabeth would want it kept quiet. That wasn’t hard to figure out. He just wouldn’t tell a soul. He sat up straight and swore.

“Kyle.” He’d asked his brother to run a check on Sam Proctor. Damn. He knew exactly what his deputy was going to find out. He would have to have a talk with Kyle and tell him to keep the information to himself.

The knot in his stomach tightened. He’d felt like slime when he’d asked his brother to run the check. He should have listened to that feeling.

A bigamist. It boggled his mind. He smiled suddenly, his mood lightening as he remembered what Mandy had said about her father. He’d had to leave because he was big. The kid almost had it right, he thought, draining the beer and setting the bottle on the coffee table in front of him.

His smile faded. Where did they go from here? Despite his stellar reputation, he wasn’t the casual sex, one-nightstand kind of guy. He’d had enough of that at college. He generally held back physically until there was an emotional connection. He knew nothing was going to last forever, but he’d never played fast and loose with a woman before. Elizabeth didn’t strike him as overly experienced. With his luck, she’d only ever been with one man—Sam. Which meant she was going to be hating life and him come morning. Would she expect something of him? A commitment of some kind?

It wasn’t, he realized with bone-chilling shock, a horrible idea. He liked Elizabeth, he adored Mandy. They got along well and—

Slow down, boy, he told himself. Nothing was going to happen between him and Elizabeth. Last night was a…a… He hated to use the word mistake. It hadn’t been a mistake for him. Last night had been an unusual circumstance. They’d both needed each other. But there wasn’t going to be anything permanent between them. He didn’t have what it took to make that kind of relationship work. Even if he did, Elizabeth had made it clear she wasn’t interested in getting involved with him or any man. After what Sam had done, he almost couldn’t blame her.

In a week her medical restrictions would lift. She would be driving, and leaving him for her own place. If they both tried, they could put last night in its proper place and stay friends. It’s really all he wanted.

The sounds of the night crowded in around him. The cool air made him shiver. He told himself to go back to his bed, to snuggle against Elizabeth’s warm naked body and savor the moments while he had them. But he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when he’d finally realized how hard it was going to be to let her go.

* * *

“It’s a fumble on the twenty-yard line. Dallas recovers and runs it in for a touchdown. San Francisco is now down by fourteen points.”

Travis groaned and reached for the remote. He hit the mute button and sank back against the couch. Mandy looked up from her place on the floor where she was working on a jigsaw puzzle.

“Is your team doing bad, Travis?” she asked.

“They’re getting their fannies kicked.”

“Really?” She glanced toward the TV screen. “I don’t see anyone kicking fannies.”

He chuckled. “Hopefully it won’t happen again.”

She abandoned her puzzle and climbed into his lap. “I’ll make you feel better,” she said and gave him a hug. “They’re magic, just like yours.”

He hugged her back. “I do feel better. Thanks.” He pointed at the puzzle. “What is it going to be?”

“A dog.” She pursed her lips together. “Mommy says there’s bunnies at our house and I can see them when we get there, but I was thinking maybe I could have a puppy instead. Do you think Mommy would like a puppy?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask her.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe later. She’s cooking, and if you ask her stuff now, she usually says no.”

He’d heard the pots rattling in the kitchen and had decided to stay clear himself. He was giving Elizabeth time to recover from what happened between them last night. “You’re a very smart girl.”

“I know.”

Her smile took a direct line to his heart. She wore sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt in bright pink with a redheaded mermaid on the front. Her pale blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her bangs hung almost to her eyebrows. She was going to be a heartbreaker in a few years; when she left with her mother at the end of the week, she was going to break his heart.

Elizabeth walked into the room. She stared at a point above and to the left of his head. “Mandy, there are still a few flowers left in the garden. Why don’t you pick some for the table?”

“Okay.” The little girl slid off his lap and grinned. “I get to pick flowers.”

“I heard.”

She practically quivered with excitement. “You can finish my puzzle if you want to,” she told Travis.

“I’ll pass and let you do it.”

She nodded and ran out of the room, singing a song about flowers. Elizabeth turned to leave, then hesitated.

She wore her hair as she had the first time he’d seen her, in a ponytail on top of her head. The loose strands tumbled down to her shoulder. A light touch of makeup accentuated her chestnut-colored eyes. An oversize peach sweater hung midway down her thighs. Matching leggings outlined her curves, taunting him with what he’d seen and touched and tasted the previous night. Her flat loafers didn’t give her any height, and she looked small and ill at ease.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, rising to his feet.

“Nothing.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she was having trouble speaking. “I was just wondering if you wanted to cancel the party.”

“A couple of friends over for a late lunch and football is hardly a party.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trailed off. She clasped her hands together in front of her waist and stared at the ground. “I thought you might prefer to keep me away from your friends because of last night.”

That didn’t make any sense. “Because we made love?”

She shook her head. “No, the other thing.”

The spot of color on each cheek had nothing to do with cosmetics. She looked as if she were praying for the ground to open and swallow her whole. It was all his fault.

In an effort to be a gentleman, he had left their bed that morning to give her the privacy to wake up alone. If he was going to be completely honest with himself, he would have to admit there had been something other than altruism in the act. He hadn’t wanted to wake up and see the regret in her eyes. Unfortunately, she thought he was the one having regrets. She might say she was worried about her confession, but her body language told him she was thinking about the sex.

He crossed the room and reached toward her. Before he could pull her close, she stepped back. “Don’t,” she murmured.

“I’m not sorry we made love,” he said quietly, aware that Mandy could return at any moment. “I left you alone this morning to give you some privacy, not because I didn’t want to be with you in bed. I wanted us to make love again, but I was worried about you being sore and Mandy waking up. It was wonderful, Elizabeth. At least it was for me. I guess I’ll understand if you’re having second thoughts.”

“I’m not sorry, either.”

She looked up at him and he saw the sadness in her eyes. It puzzled him. If she didn’t have regrets, then why was she sad?

“It doesn’t change anything, though,” she said dropping her arms to her side.

Make that: it hadn’t meant anything. He’d been so damned worried about what she would be thinking and feeling that he hadn’t spared a thought for his own feelings. “So you’re saying, ‘Thanks for the good time, no regrets, but gee, let’s never bother doing that again’?”

“Not exactly.”

He would have laughed but there was this pain deep in his chest. He’d been a one-night stand. Women across the county would be crowing with delight if they ever learned a Haynes had finally had his comeuppance. He’d been looking for something more, and Elizabeth was the one backing off.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “As for the company. Hey, why would it matter that people came over? Don’t worry, I won’t talk about your secret or last night.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking at him oddly.

“So nothing’s changed. We’re exactly where we were yesterday. Friends. Great.”

“Travis, are you okay?” Her brows drew together in confusion. “Have I said anything to—”

The sharp ringing of the phone cut her off. “Excuse me,” he said, and reached for the phone on the end table. “Hello?”

“Hey, Travis, it’s Kyle.” His brother sounded wary. “I ran that guy you asked me to. Sam Proctor. You’re not going to believe what I found.”

“I already know.”

“About the bigamy?”

“Yeah.”

“Elizabeth Abbott is in the report. The second wife, or whatever you’d call her.”

“I know that, too.”

“You okay?”

Travis turned back toward Elizabeth, but she’d left the room. No, he wasn’t okay; he was never going to be okay again. She’d touched him and loved him in his bed, and now she was going to shut him down. Part of him couldn’t blame her. He was the last guy in the world she should get involved with. He would only screw up the whole thing. But his brief experience of paradise had left him hungry for more. He wanted to be different, he wanted to be the kind of man who could marry and have a family. He wanted—

“Travis, are you there?”

“Sorry. I’m fine. Look, Kyle, I want you to keep this information to yourself, okay?”

Kyle exhaled in disgust. “I might be the youngest, Travis, but I’m not a kid. I know this could hurt Elizabeth. I won’t say anything.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Look, could you just get your butt over here as quickly as possible?” He needed someone to run interference before he said or did something stupid. Worse, before he made a promise he knew he could never keep.

* * *

“I can’t sit out there with those boys if I know you’re in here doing all the work,” Louise said walking into the kitchen. “What can I do to help?”

Elizabeth closed the oven door and smiled. For the first time that day, her sense of doom lifted a little. “Nothing. I’ve got everything under control.”

“You make me feel guilty. I’m supposed to be looking after you.”

Elizabeth laughed and moved to the kitchen table. “I’m feeling great. Doing more things every day.” She bit down on her lower lip. She’d almost blurted out, “Last night Travis and I made love, and I felt wonderful afterward.” That would have given Louise something to talk about. “My incision hardly gives me any trouble at all.” Except for a slight tenderness after they’d— Stop thinking about it, she ordered herself. It only made everything more difficult.

“Do you want some coffee?” she asked, pointing to the full pot. “It’s fresh.”

“I’ll get it,” Louise said. “You sit down for a minute and rest yourself. There’s no point in spending all this time getting better if you’re just going to wear yourself out in one afternoon.”

She poured herself a cup, then offered one to Elizabeth. She shook her head in refusal. Louise poured in milk and added a rounded teaspoon of sugar.

Today she was dressed all in purple. A frilly blouse that did nothing to hide her generous curves, a calf-length ruffled skirt and bright purple cowboy boots. Her short blond hair had been puffed and sprayed into little spikes. She wore saddle earrings and lots of black mascara. The kindness and concern in her blue eyes made her look beautiful.

“I’m doing great,” Elizabeth said. It wasn’t an actual lie. Physically she was doing well. Emotionally, she was hovering about a half inch off the ground. Last night had been perfect, but this morning, when she’d woken up alone in Travis’s bed, all her doubts had crashed in around her. They’d made a terrible mistake. The lovemaking had been so right between them, but the memory was tainted by the reason he’d reached for her in the first place. Once Travis realized that, he wouldn’t want to remember what had happened at all. He would put it and her out of his mind. She hated to think about that. She knew there was no hope for any kind of long-term relationship between them, but she’d counted on them staying friends.

“You want to talk about it?” Louise asked, then took a sip from her mug. She walked to the table and plopped into the seat next to Elizabeth.

“I—”

“Don’t bother lying, honey. I can see the pain in your pretty eyes. Did something happen here, or is this about whatever made you come to town in the first place?”

Elizabeth stared at her. Had the other woman guessed or had Travis said something?

“Don’t give me that look,” Louise said. “It doesn’t take a lot of brains to figure out something is wrong with you. When you first arrived you spent most of your time looking over your shoulder. Who are you afraid of?”

Elizabeth fought the urge to confide in Louise. She’d felt better after telling Travis the truth. Confession was good for the soul. But she was afraid. She hadn’t even told her own parents. She couldn’t face the disappointment and shame she would hear in their voices. Would Louise understand? She gathered her courage together.

“If it’s about you and Travis being lovers, then you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Her courage fled and with it her composure. Her mouth dropped open. “He told you?”

Louise leaned forward and smiled. “No one had to tell me, honey. I could feel it the second I walked into this house.” She patted her hand. “Don’t worry. The boys are too dense to figure it out. Your secret is safe with me.”

“It doesn’t make any difference,” Elizabeth said, staring at the water glass in front of her. She moved it back and forth over the bleached oak table. “Travis isn’t the kind of man a woman settles down with, even if I was interested.”

“You be careful about believing all of his press,” Louise said. “He and his brothers paid a high price for their father’s and uncles’ ways. The boys have worked hard to be decent to the women in their lives. They mostly lack any kind of skills in relationships. No role models—at least that’s what they usually say on those daytime talk shows.” She smiled. “Maybe you should think about giving him a chance.”

“I can’t.” She drew in a deep breath. The courage returned. “I came to Glenwood to get away from my life in L.A. Mandy’s father was a bigamist, and I was his second wife.”

She told the story quickly, even the embarrassing details about how stupid she’d been. She finished, then braced herself for Louise’s well-intentioned scolding.

“That bastard,” Louise said, glaring at her. “Excuse my French, but that’s exactly what he is.”

Elizabeth blinked. She couldn’t have heard the other woman correctly. “No, you don’t understand. It’s my fault. I should have known.”

“How were you supposed to know?”

“He was my husband.”

“All the more reason to trust him. Oh, I just hate men like that.”

“But, Louise—”

“Don’t you ‘but, Louise’ me. You were a virgin when you met him, weren’t you?”

Elizabeth was too surprised by her friend’s anger to be embarrassed by the question. “Yes, but—”

“And you were faithful to him during your relationship.”

“Of course, but—”

Louise rose to her feet and started pacing the kitchen. “I’d like to find him and give him a piece of my mind. No. I’d like him castrated.”

Elizabeth giggled. “That sounds a little harsh, even for Sam.”

Louise paused and leaned against the counter. “Okay, maybe we’ll just threaten him with dismemberment. Just enough to put the fear of God into him.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded as she felt tears forming in her eyes. Louise wasn’t judging her, she was defending her. It was a miracle.

“Does this means we can still be friends?” she asked tentatively.

“Why in the world wouldn’t we be?” Louise hurried over to the table and bent down to give her a hug. Her spicy perfume comforted Elizabeth, reminding her of her own mother.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said. “Thanks for giving me a chance.”

“I’m not giving you anything.” Louise straightened and smiled. “But while we’re on the subject, you might think about giving yourself a chance. Travis, too. I know that boy, and I think he’s smitten.”

It would never work, Elizabeth told herself. If she gave Travis a chance, he would break her already fragile heart. Leaving Sam had been hard enough. If she got much closer to Travis, leaving him would be the end of her world.

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