Christmas Bride

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Christmas Bride Page 3

by Noelle Adams


  She ignored it. Of course she did. Carter was a handsome man, and noticing that fact from time to time was inevitable. But she had no real interest in someone who was still hung up on his brother’s wife. A man who’d never fall for a woman like her even if he were emotionally available.

  She might still be fairly young, but she’d lived most of her twenty-six years knowing daydreams and fairy tales didn’t come true. After all, when her dad had walked out when she was six, she’d spent the following year hoping and dreaming and praying he’d come back and make them a family again.

  He never had.

  More often than not, people let you down. Especially when you expected them to change.

  Or expected them to fall in love with you.

  She wasn’t going to go down that road, no matter how hot Carter was, sucking his finger.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, his dark eyebrows pulling together with that questioning concern that she’d learned was typical for him.

  “No. Of course not.” Ruth had to hand it to Carter. Despite his innate consideration of other people, he was adorably clueless about what she was actually thinking. He had no idea she was lusting after him right now. “I was just trying to decide about another cupcake. But I’m pretty full, and if I eat any more, I might feel sick.”

  “Okay.” They’d been sitting quite close together in the interest of acting their parts, but now Carter eased back some so he could turn to face her. “Are you ready to take off, or do you want to hang out a little more? You think we’ve done enough?”

  She searched his face quickly, satisfying herself that he wasn’t trying to get away from her in his always courteous way. “Let’s stay a little longer. It’s still kind of early. If this is going to work, then we have to be convincing.”

  “Okay.” He set down his empty coffee cup on a side table and then relaxed back against the cushions of the love seat. He reached over to pick up her hand and held it, gently stroking her palm with his fingers.

  It felt good. Ridiculously good. A little throbbing awoke between her legs, and she felt her cheeks flushing.

  Maybe he saw her reaction. Or sensed it. Because he asked very softly, “Is this okay? Should I have asked first?”

  “It’s fine.” She moved closer so they could talk without the risk of anyone overhearing. “You don’t have to ask my permission to hold my hand.”

  “Okay.” His brown eyes never left her face. It was so unnerving. The way he always seemed to search for what she was thinking, how she was feeling inside. She wasn’t used to that from men. From anyone. “Just checking. Just tell me if you feel weird about anything. I know we don’t know each other very well, and we’ve trapped ourselves in this artificial closeness.”

  “Yeah, but I feel like I know you better than I did.” She smiled, studiously ignoring the tingles of pleasure his touch was still generating. She rubbed his thigh in a flirtatious manner but didn’t let the touch linger. “And you’re not the worst person to get close to, if you want to know the truth.”

  His smile was surprised, authentic. “Yeah?”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “How is it you manage to come across as so unassuming when you have to know you’re the romantic hero for half the Green Valley daydreams?”

  He chuckled. “Let’s not exaggerate.”

  “I’m not exaggerating. I’m telling you it’s true. Even I, who am mostly immune to your charms, had more than one choice daydream about you back in high school.”

  “Yeah?” He straightened up, leaning toward her slightly like he really wanted to hear this.

  “Yes. I told you that before.”

  “Sure, but I figured you were just saying it. I thought you were into Lincoln.”

  “I was. I mean, just from a distance. He’s hot, and I was always into bad boys. But that didn’t mean I didn’t have silly fantasies about you too.”

  “Fantasies?” The rough texture to his voice made her shiver.

  “Not those kinds of fantasies.” She pulled her hand away from his since his touch was clearly interfering with the clarity of her thinking. “Romantic fantasies. About you rescuing me from bad guys and falling helplessly in love. Bringing me flowers and jewelry and breaking into song to express your great love for me.”

  He burst into warm laughter. It felt like a victory. “You’re kidding.”

  His appreciation of her humor was going right to her head. She was warm and flushed and happy as she scooted a little closer to him, snuggling up at his side. “I’m not kidding. I was a silly teenager. My daydreams matched my maturity level. But they were just daydreams. Nothing serious. I mean, I didn’t know you at all, and you had no idea who I was.”

  “And I’m not really your type.” Carter said the words with a matter-of-fact complacency that made it clear he wasn’t hurt by this assessment.

  “No. Not really. Which is the only way our plan can work. Neither of us can be wanting something more than helping each other out.”

  He gave a brief nod. “Right. Got it.” He paused and asked in a different tone, “So do you always go for the bad boys then?”

  Ruth shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always leaned in that direction. Not that any of them have ever worked out for me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? What kind of question is that?”

  “It’s a real question. Why shouldn’t it be?”

  She’d never met another mature man who could come across as so sincere while still being sharp and intelligent. She had no idea how Carter managed it. “Because how is a person supposed to know why her attempts at romantic relationships don’t work out?”

  “Some people know.”

  “Do you?”

  “No. I really don’t.”

  “Me either,” she admitted. “I mean, I think I’m basically a nice, smart, relatively attractive person. But I think I mentioned this before. The guys I really like never like me. And the guys who do like me, just don’t...” She sighed. “They just don’t do it for me. I call it bad luck.”

  “How do you know the guys you like don’t like you? Maybe they do, and you just don’t realize it.”

  She gave him an impatient look. “Oh, I know.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I...” She cleared her throat. “I’m not exactly the most subtle of women. I say what I think. Sometimes I say a lot more than I should. If I’m into a guy, he knows.”

  Carter tilted his head down so his face was only inches from hers. “Yeah? So you prefer to make the moves?”

  “No. I do not prefer to make the moves. I’d much rather a man make the moves. But they never do. So then I tie myself into mental knots about exactly what you’re implying. Maybe the guy is into me and he doesn’t know I’m interested. What if I’m waiting around and letting a good thing slip away? So I...” She felt her cheeks burning as way too many cringe-worthy memories exploded in her mind. “I’ve been known to humiliate myself from time to time.”

  “What have you done?” Carter didn’t look remotely surprised or uncomfortable or put off. He seemed fascinated. “Called guys up? Followed them around?”

  She giggled, feeling better that he thought it was funny and not distasteful. “Occasionally. Not like I’m a stalker or anything. I’ve always had enough sense to stop before it got inappropriate. But I’ve called guys up and left rambling messages, practically throwing myself at them. I’ve shown up where I knew they’d be. I’ve even asked them out occasionally. None of that is... I mean, I think it’s fairly normal, and I don’t think it’s inappropriate. Just ended up embarrassing for me because the guys weren’t interested. What’s worse...”

  She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks still burning and knowing Carter would be able to see that. She shot him a quick look and saw he was waiting, that little concerned frown on his face. She took a breath and continued, “What I’d say is more of a mistake is too often I’ve held out hope for guys when I knew better.
I knew better. They said yes when I asked them out, but they never initiated anything themselves. They were just going along with it because it was easy. I’ve had sex with guys who clearly just wanted a casual fling, but I convinced myself they’d fall for me soon. They’d want it to be serious. If I just held out, they’d... they’d... But of course they never did. I’ve assumed that guys were going to change for me when anyone with sense would know that they wouldn’t.”

  Carter picked up her hand again while she spoke. This time he didn’t caress it. Just held it in an oddly comforting gesture.

  She swallowed, not quite able to meet his eyes. “I think I’m basically a strong person. I mean, I’ve always been independent. People think I’m competent. And I’m not silly or naive or even particularly optimistic. Even back when I was doing all this with guys. I’d know—I really do know—that it’s better to be by myself than to be with a guy who isn’t going to make my life better. But...” She didn’t know why she was babbling out this very intimate confession, but it felt safe enough with Carter for her to continue. “But sometimes I would just... I would feel alone. And I’d get scared if I didn’t do everything to make it happen, I’d end up missing out. I’d have to stay alone. So despite my skepticism about romance, I just kept... chasing after it. And it makes me take whatever they want to offer—even if it’s not what I want—and pretend it’s enough.”

  Her eyes were burning. It was ridiculous. Why the hell was she so emotional about this? And why was she telling Carter?

  She sniffed and gave him a wobbly smile. “So I’ve done a lot of things I wish I hadn’t. I haven’t protected my heart enough. For this past year, I’ve been trying not to feel that way. I’ve been trying to be happy with myself. Moving here, it felt like a fresh start. That helped. I left all my embarrassments and disappointments back in Charlotte. Here, I’m going to be better. If I ever start dating again, I’ll do better.” She blinked, realizing she’d been talking for way too long. “Sorry about the rambles. I’m not sure why I felt the need to spill all that.”

  He slid an arm around her shoulders and gave her a half hug. “I’m glad you did. I never would have guessed that about you. You always seem so...”

  “So what?”

  “So settled in your own skin. Like a man is the last thing in the world you need. Does that make sense?”

  “Maybe.” She leaned her head against him. It was supposed to be an act, but it felt nice. Supportive. “My mom used to tell me the same thing, but I could never figure out what to do about it. And when I’m genuinely needy, they all just run away. I don’t know. I think I’m just hopeless.”

  “Unfortunately I can’t help you with relationships since I’ve had no luck either.”

  “I know for sure it’s not because girls aren’t interested in you. So at least you’ve got that going for you.”

  “I suppose. But if they’re just going for that Prince Charming fantasy you talked about, I’m not sure how much that helps me. Who wants a relationship with someone who’s just looking for a fantasy?” He sounded tired. Stretched. Like it really bothered him.

  “Yeah. That doesn’t sound great. But when girls get to know the real you, they’re going to like you. I guarantee it.”

  He huffed with dry amusement. “If you say so.”

  She pulled away so she could glare up at him. “I do say so. I know better than you.”

  He laughed again, warmer this time. “Okay. I’m learning not to argue with you when you have that particular look.”

  The comment completely distracted her from the righteousness of her indignation. “What look?”

  “Your jaw goes out and your eyes narrow. It’s a fierce look. Very intimidating. It means you mean business.”

  “It can’t be that intimidating if you’re sitting there laughing at it.”

  “Hey, I’m not arguing with you anymore, am I?”

  “I guess not.”

  “So the look worked.”

  She wanted to keep glaring at him, but for some reason she laughed instead. A quick glance around the coffee shop proved that a lot of people were covertly observing them. A few weren’t being covert about it at all. “People are watching us.”

  “I know. Hopefully, we’re being convincing enough.”

  “Maybe we should kiss a little.”

  His eyebrows went up.

  “I mean, we don’t have to,” she hurried on, wondering if she’d just embarrassed herself again in the way she’d resolved not to do anymore. “If it’s too weird, we can probably make do without it. I was just thinking if this was a real date... we might... I mean...”

  She was saved from trying to finish her stilted explanation by Carter taking her face in both his hands and kissing her.

  It was a good kiss. A really good kiss. So good that it knocked the breath out of her.

  His lips were gentle at first, like he was testing her responses, giving her the chance to pull away. When she didn’t, he grew more insistent. One of his hands slid back to tangle his fingers in her loose hair, holding her head steady so he could move his mouth more urgently.

  Ruth responded. She couldn’t help it. Waves of pure pleasure washed over her as she raised a hand to hold on to his neck and pushed back against his kiss. When his tongue slid over her lips, she made a silly sound. Embarrassingly close to a moan into his mouth.

  When his tongue darted between her lips—for just a couple of seconds—her whole body throbbed. She wanted more. A lot more. She was just about to open her mouth to him when Carter pulled back with a rough inhalation.

  They stared at each other. Motionless except their urgent breathing.

  Then Carter blinked. “Uh.”

  At least she wasn’t the only one taken aback by that kiss. Reminding herself that she wasn’t going to go down that same road she always took—the one that led to her humiliating herself by chasing a man who didn’t want her—she smiled at him. “Wow. You’re a good kisser.”

  Her casual, friendly tone broke through the lingering tension from the kiss. Carter chuckled and leaned back against the cushion of the love seat, visibly relaxing. “You’re not bad yourself. I didn’t expect that.”

  “You didn’t expect me to be a good kisser?”

  “No! That’s not what I meant. I meant I didn’t expect it to be good under these circumstances. I didn’t intend to—”

  “I know. I get it.” She laughed to smooth over his obvious concern at hurting her feelings. He really was very sweet. She’d never known a guy like him before. “I know exactly what you mean. I didn’t expect it either. But it will make it easier going forward.”

  She was pleased. Proud of herself. She was handling this exactly right. Keeping it in perspective so she could enjoy herself and not get hurt. So she went on, “So if we need to kiss again—just to convince people that we’re really together—I’m in.”

  He shook his head, still laughing softly. His eyes were very warm on her face. If she hadn’t already known that his heart belonged to someone else, she might have gotten the wrong idea from that expression. “Same here.”

  She leaned against him again. His body was still shaking with amusement, and it felt incredibly good against hers. “Why are you still laughing about it?”

  “I don’t even know,” he admitted. “Just that this is very weird.”

  “I know. If it’s too weird, just tell me and we can call the whole thing off.”

  “No way. I haven’t had anything to entertain me this much in ages. And no one has tried to set me up on a date in two weeks. As long as it’s okay with you, I want to keep going.”

  “Me too.”

  It occurred to her that she should probably convey some degree of emotional distance. Wouldn’t want him to think she was doing this just because she wanted to. So she added, “Although maybe you can introduce me to a couple of people in the next few weeks. I’m supposed to be adding some contacts for my business.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Of course. I’ve already men
tioned you to some of my mom’s friends. I’ll do better. I promise I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

  Only Carter could be worried about taking advantage of her, when he’d been more of a gentleman with her than any man she’d ever met in her life. “I know you won’t,” she told him. “You’re way too good a guy for that.”

  He gave her a strange look. One she didn’t understand. She was about to ask him about it, but a couple came over to the love seat just then. Ruth didn’t know them, but Carter did. They were old school friends of his.

  Ruth responded to the introductions and the friendly conversation, conveying the right balance of friendliness toward the new acquaintances and besotted interest in Carter.

  It wasn’t nearly as hard as she would have thought.

  THE FOLLOWING FRIDAY, Ruth gave Carter a sidelong look as they rode up the elevator in a very swanky lakeside apartment building. Lincoln and his wife, Summer, had invited them over for dinner.

  Ever since they’d received the dinner invitation on Wednesday, Ruth had been getting ready. She’d brainstormed all conceivable background information she and Carter would need at that point in their relationship. She’d called him up for the past two evenings to go over strategy. Last night, they’d talked for two hours, although in all honesty only the first half hour was actually preparing for tonight. The rest was getting to know him so they could be convincing to Carter’s brother and sister-in-law.

  And now the time was here. Ruth was sure they were ready. They wouldn’t be caught off guard by an unexpected question or an awkward moment. Carter wanted to prove that he was over his long-lost love for Summer.

  Whether Ruth believed those feelings were truly over (and she didn’t), she was going to make sure everyone else believed it after tonight. It was important to Carter. He hadn’t said so, but she could tell. If any moment was crucial in their wild fake-engagement plot, it was this one.

 

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