Christmas Bride

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Christmas Bride Page 13

by Noelle Adams


  “Probably so. What does Carter think about the rooms?”

  Ruth blinked a couple of times, taken aback by the question. “I don’t know. He said he liked them.”

  “Did he ask to see the pictures?”

  “No, actually he went to the houses and looked at the rooms with me a few days ago. He knows my clients. I mean, he grew up with these people. So it wasn’t a big deal for him to go look.” For no good reason, she was a little embarrassed telling Kayla that information.

  The girl giggled. “So he made a point of going to see them?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t think he made a point about it. He just went—” Ruth made a face at her stepsister. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Nothing.” Kayla couldn’t seem to stop laughing. “I think it’s cute that he’s so excited about your work.”

  “He’s not excited about it! He just went to see it.” There was no good excuse for her getting riled up about this, so she made herself calm down. “It’s not a big deal.”

  The truth was it had felt perfectly natural when Carter suggested it. She hadn’t thought a thing about taking him to see what she’d done in the houses of her most recent clients. And she’d genuinely appreciated that he’d asked a lot of intelligent questions about her choices and really looked at things before he’d told her that he thought the designs were great.

  But Kayla was right. It was really nice of him.

  “He’s just like that,” Ruth added, explaining it to herself as much as Kayla. “He’s always super nice that way. With everyone.”

  “So he’s not extra nice to you.”

  “Why would he be?”

  “I don’t know. Just that he seems to like you a lot. And you like him.”

  Carter had a business dinner scheduled that evening, so she hadn’t been able to hang out with him that night as she normally would have done on a Saturday. Instead, she’d taken advantage of the free time to have a girls’ night with Kayla at her apartment. They’d watched two fluffy Christmas movies, eaten pancakes, bacon, and cupcakes, and had a very good time.

  It was getting late, so Ruth would need to take Kayla back home soon, but there wasn’t any big hurry.

  “Of course I like him,” Ruth said. “We’re friends now.”

  “Is that all? Because it kind of seems like you like him, like him.”

  Ruth was flushing. “I don’t.”

  “You really don’t? Why not? He’s so nice. And he seems to really listen and care about people. Even me. And he’s seriously the best-looking guy I’ve ever seen. Don’t you think you might want him as more than a friend?” Kayla’s blue eyes were wide and innocent. She wasn’t just teasing now. She was asking for real.

  Ruth held back her initial retort, which would have been a vehement (and false) denial. She tried to always tell the truth to Kayla when she could. So she took her time, thought it through, and finally said, “I don’t know. I think I could, to tell you the truth. Like him, like him.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “He doesn’t like me that way. So if I let myself get too... hopeful, I’m going to get crushed.”

  “Are you sure he doesn’t like you? ’Cause it sure looks like he likes you to me.”

  “Well, we’re pretending to be engaged. Of course he’s going to act like we’re in love.”

  “But why would he have to act when it’s just the three of us? Even then, it seems like he’s really into you.”

  “I don’t know what to say, Kayla. I really don’t. I sometimes think that too.” Ruth’s chest hurt as she processed the realization. And what it meant about how she’d failed to guard her feelings the way she’d tried so hard to do. “Sometimes I feel like, hey, maybe this isn’t all fake. Maybe there’s something there.”

  She didn’t say so to Kayla, but she’d been thinking that more often in the past week, ever since Carter had implied that he was truly over Summer. If he wasn’t still hung up on her, then maybe there was the chance for him to fall for someone else.

  Maybe even her.

  He certainly enjoyed having sex with her. That much couldn’t be denied.

  But sex was sex. It wasn’t love. And men did it all the time without it meaning anything. She knew from long experience that assuming good sex meant love would only lead a girl to another broken heart.

  “So maybe there is,” Kayla said softly, responding to Ruth’s last comment. “Maybe there’s more there than you thought.”

  “I don’t think so. He’s never said anything except that he wants to have fun with me until after Christmas. I think...” She swallowed hard over a little lump of regret. “If guys are interested, they make sure you know.”

  “Always?”

  “In my experience. And Carter is so honest and straightforward and careful about other people’s feelings. He wouldn’t— I don’t think he’d ever dream I was getting hopes I shouldn’t have. He’s never said a word about this thing between us being real. I really think...” The recognition was fully materializing now inside her. It felt right. She knew it was right. “I think those little hopes I’ve been having are the same thing I’ve always done with men. Deceiving myself into believing something that just isn’t true. I try to read signs and rationalize and give myself reasons to hope for guys to really fall for me. But they don’t. And I don’t want to... I like Carter too much to mess up our relationship by interpreting clues that aren’t there and putting pressure on him that would probably really upset him.”

  Kayla was subdued now, matching Ruth’s own mood. “Are you sure? Maybe if you just say something, he’ll tell you he likes you too.”

  It sounded like a dream to Ruth. Like a fantasy. A fairy tale she desperately wanted to be true. But long experience had taught her that it never turned out that way, and she wasn’t going to blow things with Carter.

  She wanted to at least remain his friend. She wasn’t going to be the kind of needy, clingy girl she’d been in the past. The girl who had only ever embarrassed her.

  She wasn’t going to do that with Carter.

  “I think it’s better this way. If he wants to say something, he’ll say it. And if he doesn’t, then I’m just making things up. Things are still going well. This weird little thing with him has turned out well anyway.”

  “You’ve seemed really happy,” Kayla murmured. “Happier than you’ve been in a long time.”

  Ruth gave the girl a half hug. “I have been happy. I almost forgot what that felt like.”

  THEY LEFT TWENTY MINUTES later so Ruth could drive Kayla back home. As they were saying goodbye, Ruth’s phone vibrated with a text. She waited until Kayla had gotten into her house before she picked up her phone to read the message.

  It was Carter. Still with Kayla?

  Just dropped her off. How’d the dinner go?

  Good. You coming over?

  Ruth hesitated before replying. Carter probably wanted to have sex. They didn’t spend nights together during the week, so the weekends were when they had sex. Her body was interested in that possibility too, but she took a minute to fully assess how she was feeling.

  And now that she’d brought it out into the open, she could see it so easily. She did want to have sex with Carter tonight. But she also wanted a lot more. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted to hear about his business dinner and tell him about her time with Kayla. She wanted him to hold her as they fell asleep.

  She wanted more. Too much. It might be natural—given how great Carter was and how lonely she’d been until the past couple of months—but it was also dangerous.

  He was dangerous. To her heart.

  She needed to start protecting herself a little better if she was going to get out of this fake relationship with her heart basically intact.

  So she tapped out on her phone, I’m kinda tired. Might just head home and go to sleep.

  You can sleep here. I’ll keep my hands off. Promise.

  She gulped. Damn Carter. Always so sweet. Always ma
king it so hard to resist him. Nah, that’s ok. I’m closer to my place.

  There was a slightly longer pause before his next text came through. Everything okay?

  Yep. All good. Just tired. Talk to you tomorrow.

  Okay. Have a good night.

  She was shaking as she put down her phone and put the car into reverse to pull out of the driveway. It had just been a normal, simple conversation. There was no reason for her to be so upset about it.

  She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her lately. She’d never been emotional like this. But something had definitely happened to her. She cried a little bit on her way home.

  Eight

  THE NEXT MORNING, RUTH thought about staying home. Last night had been a necessary wake-up call for her, and it might be smarter to extend her time away from Carter to work more on emotional distance.

  But Carter texted twice, once to let her know his mother was busy planning brunch so it would be great if she could come over before ten and the second time to confirm she’d gotten the message and was coming since he hadn’t heard back from her. Then Mrs. Wilson called her up to gush about the brunch that was being prepared and how she didn’t want to miss it, so Ruth couldn’t think of any way to justify not showing up.

  She arrived at the Wilson place at nine forty-five in a cute red sweater and a casual skirt. Before she’d even gotten out of her car, Carter was coming out of the front door of the house and walking down the front path to meet her.

  “Hey,” she said, adjusting her purse on her forearm. “How’s everything going?” She thought—hoped—she sounded natural and friendly.

  “Okay.” He’d reached her now and stood directly in front of her, scanning her face with an understated urgency. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” She let her tone convey just the slightest bit of impatience. She really wished Carter would leave her alone and let her get through this.

  “I don’t know. Something feels off. It felt off last night, and now it still does this morning. Did everything go okay with Kayla last night?”

  “Yes. We had a really good time.” She tried to head for the house, wanting to end this awkward conversation, but his big body was there. Right there. Getting in her way. “Can we please go on in?”

  “As soon as you tell me what’s wrong.” His voice was low and just slightly gravelly. “Did I do something to upset you?”

  “Of course you didn’t! It has nothing to do with you. I mean, there’s nothing wrong.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She groaned, feeling panic rising inside her, telling her that pretty soon she’d lose it and the truth would come spilling out. Despite her best efforts, Carter would find out how silly and needy she’d been. “Well, I can’t do anything about what you believe, but I’m telling you flat out that I’m fine and you’re being obnoxious. Not everything has to do with you, you know.”

  “I don’t care if it has to do with me. If you’re upset, I want to know why so I can...” He trailed off, stopping himself from completing the sentence.

  “So you can fix it?” Her tone was very dry.

  With a sheepish smile, he moved so he was no longer crowding her. “That is unfortunately what I was going to say. I know guys aren’t supposed to go around trying to fix everything, but when you’re upset, that’s still our first instinct. But I can’t even be there for you in any way if you won’t tell me what the hell is wrong.” His tone got a little grumpy at the end.

  The shift in tone had helped her recover herself. She laughed softly and started walking toward the house. “If you really want to be there, you’ll accept it when I say everything’s fine. Even if something were wrong, I’m used to dealing with stuff on my own. I’m a big girl. I’ll be okay.”

  He didn’t answer, which surprised her enough to shoot a quick glance over to check his face. He was snarling slightly, like he was still annoyed but trying to hold it in.

  She didn’t like it when Carter was annoyed, but as long as he wasn’t being pushy, she could handle it. And the good thing was that Lincoln, Summer, and Mrs. Wilson were waiting inside the house so there was no further opportunity for private conversation.

  THE BRUNCH WAS DELICIOUS—MRS. Wilson had really gone all out—and the five of them lingered over the table for almost two hours, eating and chatting and laughing and telling stories.

  Ruth tried not to enjoy it too much, but it was hard not to feel at home with these people. Like they were her family too.

  By the end of the meal, she was so emotionally rattled that she needed a break, so she excused herself to the bathroom. As she washed her hands afterward, she stared at herself in the mirror. Slightly tousled auburn hair, despite her attempt to dry it sleek and straight this morning. Pink cheeks. Hazel eyes that looked gray in the artificial light. A scattering of freckles on her nose. A strangely spooked expression. Like a trapped animal.

  She sighed as she dried her hands on the clean, expensive hand towel. Instead of returning to the others in the dining room, she walked into the library and sat down in a big leather chair near the fireplace. There wasn’t a fire burning this morning, so the room was cool and comfortable. Quiet.

  She’d been sitting there for less than five minutes when she heard a motion at the door. Expecting Carter, she was surprised when it was Mrs. Wilson walking in. “What are you doing in here by yourself, dear? Don’t you feel okay?”

  “I feel fine,” Ruth told her with a smile. “Just taking a beat. Sometimes I like to have a minute or two alone.”

  “Of course you do. Everyone does.” Mrs. Wilson took the chair beside Ruth’s and leaned forward to take both her hands. “You’ll feel even better if you do a little meditation. That’s the best way to refresh yourself. Here. Close your eyes and breathe with me.”

  Part of Ruth wanted to giggle at the earnest words, but she wouldn’t have hurt Mrs. Wilson’s feelings for anything. So she closed her eyes obediently and let the older woman hold her hands and guide her breathing for a few minutes.

  She actually did feel more relaxed when Mrs. Wilson finally let go of her hands.

  “See? Doesn’t that help?”

  “It does,” Ruth replied. “Thank you.”

  “Sometimes it feels like the voices in our heads are all talking at once, telling us different things, sometimes making up stories that just aren’t true. It can be overwhelming. But if we can clear our minds a little, then we can think better and sort all those voices out. Hear the ones we need to hear.”

  “Yes. That makes sense. Thank you.”

  Mrs. Wilson reached over to pat her knee affectionately. “You’re such a sweet girl.”

  Ruth couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think people usually see me as sweet.”

  “Well, then they’re wrong. You’ve got some edges. That’s what life does to us. But you’re so sweet underneath it all. I can see it, and I know Carter sees it. Why do you think he loves you so much?”

  Ruth gulped at that and had no idea what to say.

  Fortunately, Mrs. Wilson didn’t appear to expect an answer. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that Carter found you. He’s been a new man. Like the boy he used to be. I never thought I’d see that boy again.”

  Now Ruth’s eyes were burning. She made a wordless sound she hoped was appropriate.

  “Hey, Mom.” The male voice wasn’t Carter’s.

  Ruth turned to see Lincoln’s handsome face in the doorway.

  “Where did you put that gift for the Harringtons? Summer wanted to make sure we got it in the car so we didn’t forget to bring it to them.” Lincoln’s sharp green eyes moved from his mother to Ruth and then back again.

  “Oh, I put it somewhere, I know.” Mrs. Wilson stood up. “I’ll find it.” She gave Ruth one more pat, this time on the shoulder, before she bustled out of the room.

  Ruth assumed Lincoln would leave with his mother, but he didn’t. He strolled in and took the chair she had vaca
ted.

  Ruth smiled at him.

  “Everything okay in here?” he asked in a softer voice than he normally used.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “She wasn’t spooking you, was she?”

  “What?” Ruth was so surprised she couldn’t quite follow his question.

  “Mom. I know she can be... a lot. You weren’t getting spooked or weirded out by her, were you?”

  “Oh. No. Of course not. Nothing like that.”

  Lincoln was acting nonchalant—like this was just a casual conversation—but his eyes kept discreetly searching her face the way his brother’s often did. “Because as mothers-in-law go, she’s a pretty good one. You can ask Summer if you’re worried. I know she can come on strong sometimes, but she doesn’t ever interfere with our lives or try to take over what isn’t her responsibility. And she never judges or makes passive-aggressive comments. I don’t think she’ll be too hard to have as a mother-in-law.”

  “I know that,” Ruth assured him. “I wasn’t worried at all.”

  “Weren’t you?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I don’t know. It seemed like something might be wrong.”

  Shit. He was just as perceptive as his brother was. It was really very inconvenient. Couldn’t a girl hide her chaotic mess of feelings for a little while without endless inquisitions?

  “It’s nothing. Definitely nothing to do with your mom. I really like her.”

  “Carter’s not screwing things up already, is he?” Lincoln asked, again using levity to mask what was obviously a real question. “Because he’s a good one too.”

  “I know he’s a good one.” Her voice cracked slightly. Why the hell did she keep getting trapped in these impossible conversations.

  “Okay.” Lincoln flashed her a smile. “Just making sure. Because the truth is he can be as stubborn as a mule and have an occasional martyr complex that’s downright infuriating, but I still think he’s about as good as they come.”

 

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