Have Husband, Need Honeymoon. Rita Herron

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СКАЧАТЬ I wanted to be here for Vivi’s wedding.”

      Alison’s dark eyes searched his face. For a brief second, he allowed himself to imagine her touching him.

      “So you’re a bridal consultant now?”

      Alison smiled and glanced around the shop. “Yeah, go figure.”

      “I always thought you’d wind up teaching swimming or maybe being a counselor.”

      So he remembered she’d been on the swim team and that she played referee between Mimi and Hannah. “Yeah, well, things change, don’t they?”

      He nodded. “Time does that to people.”

      She looked away, stared at a gold chest in the corner that resembled a treasure chest, then bit down on her lip again.

      “Why did you want to talk to me in private?” he asked.

      Her eyes hardened for a moment, as if he should know the reason. And he did; he just couldn’t bring himself to apologize or explain why he had stopped writing.

      “There’s something I have to show you.”

      He watched hungrily as she glided across the room, the blue dress brushing her bare legs as she knelt and opened the chest. She drew out an envelope and stood, then gestured toward a seating area with a low-slung white sofa and a dark green wing chair. “I think you’d better sit down.”

      What the hell did she have in the envelope? “I’m fine standing.” Besides, he’d need help getting up off that sofa, and he certainly didn’t want her helping him or feeling sorry for him.

      “Really, Brady. I think this might come as a shock.”

      He studied her for a long moment, then finally conceded and took the chair, knowing he’d be able to get out of it easier. It took him a minute to stretch out his leg, another to look up at her without revealing the pain the movement cost him.

      She was watching him when he did, a lost, soulful look that reminded him of that night at the lake. The night she’d cried because he was saying goodbye.

      “I think you’d better take a look at this.”

      She handed him the envelope, and he breathed in the scent of lilacs, the same fragrance she’d worn four years ago. God, this was torture.

      “I want you to know I received those papers only yesterday.”

      He frowned and opened the envelope, his hand shaking when he pulled out the marriage certificate. Then he removed the next set of papers and studied the text, his hands tightening around the pages.

      “It’s the annulment papers,” Alison said in a low voice. “My grandmother sent them to me in the mail with my hope chest.”

      So that’s what the gold chest was. Didn’t women have hope chests when they were planning on getting married? The realization hit him full force. Alison was planning to marry Emerson. “I see.” His gaze rose to meet hers, his throat thick. “But there are some missing signatures, and the papers haven’t been processed. What’s going on?”

      “Apparently Dad asked Grammy Rose to file them and she forgot.”

      It took a nanosecond for him to realize the implications. When he did, he jerked his gaze to her. “Then…we’re…”

      “That’s right, Brady. Technically, we’re still married.”

      AND WE HAVE BEEN for the last four years.

      Alison let the unspoken words stretch between them. Shock settled on Brady’s face, then his eyes mellowed. With memories of the night he’d proposed, the night their young love had propelled them into each other’s arms, into consummating their love by the lake, then into marriage.

      Brady suddenly stood. The papers fluttered to the floor as he slowly reached out and touched her hair. His familiar scent filled her nostrils, his hungry gaze trapped her with its heat, and she moved toward him, cupped his face with her hands and melted into his arms.

      He lowered his head, his breath ragged as he captured her lips and settled his mouth on top of hers, then delved inside with his tongue to taste her passion. The years fell away, the pain, the lonely nights and days, until Alison found herself clinging to his arms.

      But she’d promised herself she would never cling or beg or force him to come back to her if he didn’t want her. And she hadn’t intended for the papers to do that.

      She pulled away, slowly at first, then realized she had to distance herself or she might shatter and forget those promises she’d made to herself. As easily as he’d forgotten the ones he’d made to her.

      “Alison… I—”

      “No, don’t.” She turned and wrapped her arms around her waist, a nervous laugh bubbling inside when she saw the wedding picture of her and Brady. She’d been in her prom dress, so young, so in love, so naive….

      “Alison, I’m sorry.”

      The gruffly spoken words made tears burn her eyes.

      “I wish I could explain what happened, but I…I’m afraid I can’t.”

      “We’ve both grown up,” Alison said, squaring her shoulders.

      “And changed.”

      The nervous laughter escaped. “Right, we were only kids back then. Foolish and impulsive and full of dreams.”

      “And stars.” He cleared his throat. “But life changes and goes on.”

      She turned to face him and saw the strains of fatigue and worry etched on his face. He had aged, she realized, and a hardness, an emptiness had settled into his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

      What had happened to put it there?

      She wanted desperately to know, yet self-preservation kicked in and she decided she couldn’t ask. Not with that wall of broken trust between them.

      “I…I really didn’t know about the papers until yesterday. I’ll file them as soon as possible, if that’s what you want.”

      His expression grew even harder, even colder, if that were possible, the tension between them palpable. “I think that would be best.” Then he turned and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

      Alison watched him limp down the street, and wondered at his choice of words. He hadn’t said it was what he wanted, he’d said he thought it would be best. Her fingers brushed across her lips, and the memory of the passion in his kiss rose to taunt her. Could it be possible? Could Brady still have feelings for her? Or was she overanalyzing what he’d said, trying to hold on to some sliver of hope for their future?

      BRADY WAS TOO SHAKEN to deal with the crowd in Sugar Hill, much less his doting, but slightly over-bearing mother. He did find Vivica and meet her fiancé, Joe, an architect, who seemed like a decent enough guy and appeared to adore Vivica. But Brady couldn’t focus; he was trying to absorb the news that he and Alison were officially still married.

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