This Matter of Marriage

by Debbie Macomber

  “I’m scared, too.”

  He looked at her, and as their eyes met, Hallie saw the hunger in his, realizing it was a reflection of her own. She wanted him. Needed him. Steve lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her with unconcealed desire.

  “Does that tell you anything?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her heart refused to slow down. She felt she was about to dissolve into hysterical tears—or laughter. She didn’t know which. The pendulum could swing either way.

  Steve stroked the side of her face, his eyes full of wonder. “I love you, Hallie.”

  Tears. The pendulum swung to tears. They instantly filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “Oh, Steve, I love you, too,” she sobbed, her shoulders shaking with emotion.

  “Then why are you crying?”

  “Because it took me so long to see the truth. Because I’m so happy. Because… I don’t know. No wonder I found Arnold such a dud. I was in love with you.”

  He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Like you said earlier, we’re going to make up for lost time. Tonight, Hallie. I’m not waiting a moment longer.”

  “Tonight?”

  “As soon as this movie’s over, we’ll drive home. I’ll get everyone to bed and the minute they’re asleep, I’ll sneak over to your house.”

  “This is beginning to sound better and better.”

  “You have no idea how good it’s going to be.”

  Hallie closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “Promises, promises.”

  “Even though Meagan and Kenny have friends over, it shouldn’t take them long to crash.” He sounded so eager, just as eager as she was. Her heart pounded with anticipation.

  “Last January I bought myself a sexy silk nightgown,” she whispered. “I never dreamed I’d be wearing it for you.”

  Steve groaned as she described the outfit. “Hallie, if you want me to make love to you right here and now, just go on. Otherwise, kindly be quiet.”

  “I don’t think I can be quiet. I’m too excited.”

  He kissed her again and again, and she knew he would have continued if not for the carload of kids parked next to them.

  The movie seemed to last forever. The instant the credits began Steve kissed her and leapt out of her car and into his own. He broke the speed limit all the way home. It was a minor miracle neither one of them got a ticket.

  When they arrived, Steve ushered the kids into the house. “What’s the hurry, Dad?” Meagan complained.

  He didn’t answer her. “Don’t take time to clean out the car now,” he ordered. “We’ll do that in the morning.”

  “But you always say we shouldn’t put something off we can do now,” Kenny whined.

  “I lied,” Steve said, propelling his son forward by the shoulders. “To bed, everyone. It’s late and we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

  Once he’d herded the kids into the house, he raced outside where Hallie was waiting. “Give me twenty minutes, half an hour tops, all right?”

  “Half an hour?” It sounded like an eternity.

  “I’ll sing them lullabies, read them stories. The second their eyes are closed, I’m out of there.” He kissed her, then rushed back into the house.

  If she had that much time, Hallie was determined to make use of every minute. She’d been waiting months for this; she’d planned it out, detail by exquisite detail.

  First she filled the bathtub with hot water and poured in an exotic mixture of scented oils. Then she stripped out of her clothes and sank neck-deep into the water. Closing her eyes, she dreamed of Steve.

  Steve. She loved him, really loved him. It astonished her that she hadn’t recognized it earlier. All at once everything that had happened in the past few months added up, and the sum total made perfect sense. She loved Steve with an intensity that made her heart ache.

  Drying herself with a thick soft towel, she pulled on the slinky silk nightgown, then checked her reflection in the mirror. She liked what she saw—and knew Steve would, too. Tonight she was a beautiful alluring woman. Tonight she would give Steve her body, as well as her heart.

  Time to set the scene. First she bundled all the bed linens into her laundry hamper, remaking the bed with fresh sheets and her best quilt. Next she liberally squirted her favorite cologne around the bedroom, then spread her arms and walked gracefully through the aromatic droplets as they fell. Finally she scattered dried rose petals on the antique white quilt. She envisioned Steve carrying her into the bedroom and gently placing her on the bed before he made wild passionate love to her.

  Glancing at the digital clock on her nightstand, she realized he’d arrive any minute. Once she’d settled herself on the bed, she decided to pose for him like a tigress on the prowl, the way she’d seen women pictured on calendars. She attempted a number of positions, but felt most comfortable with her hands and one leg outstretched, balancing her weight on one knee. She made a small growling noise deep in her throat.

  She held that position for all of three minutes before her knee gave out. Thirty-five minutes had passed. She was ready. More than ready, but Steve had yet to arrive.

  She paced.

  She stewed.

  She peeked.

  One look at his place showed that the lights were still on. Hallie thought she saw Kenny race out of the kitchen, and she definitely heard Steve yell after him.

  So he’d take a few extra minutes; that was all right by her. Their first time together would be perfect. Steve wanted it as much as she did. She yawned and decided to lie down on the sofa to wait for him. When she heard him opening the door, she’d leap up and race into the bedroom, assume the role of tigress and let him find her on the bed, hungry for her mate.

  Sleepy, she leaned her head against the back of the sofa. It’d been such a long day. Soon her eyes were drifting shut. She struggled to keep them open, but to no avail.

  She’d hear Steve, she told herself, and if she did fall asleep, he’d wake her.

  He didn’t.

  Hallie woke at first light shivering, still on the sofa, with a decorator pillow bunched under her head.

  Steve Marris had stood her up.

  Twenty-Nine

  Love Is Better Than Chocolate

  August 17

  If I wasn’t so damn much in love with Steve Marris, I’d be furious. But I’m not. Oh, I was in the beginning. It isn’t every day a woman’s left waiting, wearing a silk nightgown—but I found the sweetest note taped to my front door this morning. Poor Steve. If I was frustrated and disappointed, he was—possibly—even more so. The kids outlasted him. What’s really killing him is that he promised to go on Kenny’s camp-out. The fact that he’d keep his word makes me love him even more.

  I’m in love!! Really, truly in love. I can’t believe it’s with Steve Marris. I’m shocked that it took me this long to recognize what should have been obvious. It was practically staring me in the face!

  I never expected love to feel like this. I get teary-eyed just thinking about Steve, and at the same time I want to throw out my arms and sing, sort of like Julie Andrews in the opening scene from “The Sound of Music.”

  How easy it is to envision myself spending the rest of my life with him! He’s fun and witty and irreverent—and exactly the kind of man I’ve always dreamed I’d marry. (How come I didn’t see it sooner??) Heaven knows, I’ve dated my share of potential husbands (read: mostly losers) this year. I’ve run the gauntlet, paid my dues and—finally—found the man of my dreams.

  I’ve decided that since Steve won’t be back from the camping trip until Sunday afternoon, I’ll cook a veritable feast for him. I’ll serve it wearing my enhancer bra and a low-cut blouse—let matters develop from there. I know exactly where they’ll lead, too. Ah, well, I still have enough scented rose petals to leave a trail into the bedroom, although if his note was anything to go by, he isn’t going to need any help finding the way.

  I hope he enjoys spending time with Kenny and the other boys out in the woods, but I pray h
e isn’t too tired to enjoy what’s waiting for him right here at home.

  Steve lifted his son’s sleeping bag out of the trunk of his car, which stood at the curb outside Mary Lynn’s. His back hurt, he’d gotten a grand total of maybe three hours’ sleep the entire night and he was half-starved. Not only that, he was so damn eager to get back to Hallie he almost hopped back in the car and drove off without saying goodbye to Kenny.

  Glancing at the house, he saw Meagan waving through her upstairs bedroom window, telephone receiver attached to her ear. She’d spent the weekend with Mary Lynn—and had probably been on the phone most of that time. He waved back, then turned to his son.

  Kenny hugged him close, his skinny arms squeezing Steve about the neck. “Thanks, Dad. I had a great time.”

  “I did, too, partner.” Not so great he’d leap up and volunteer the next time, but good enough to help him forget how miserable he’d been.

  “Hello, Steve.” Mary Lynn stood on the front porch, looking oddly lost. Her arms were folded protectively around her middle and her mouth was drawn down. He recognized the look. It was the one that usually said she was out of money and needed a small loan to see her through until the first of the month. Well, she had another husband now and she could go to Kip for money. He strengthened his resolve, refusing to allow her to manipulate him.

  “Hello, Mary Lynn.” He stood next to his car and slid his hands into the hip pockets of his jeans.

  Kenny raced toward his mother. “We had a great time! We stayed up real late telling ghost stories and then we all crowded into one tent. In the middle of the night Jimmy McPherson had to pee, but he was too afraid of ghosts to go outside and so he peed in the tent on Johnny Adams’ sleeping bag.”

  Mary Lynn glanced at Steve to verify the story. “It’s true,” he said. “It’ll probably take poor Jimmy McPherson thirty years to live it down. Johnny Adams wasn’t too pleased about it, either.” Although Steve was anxious to leave, he’d treasured this time with his son—especially now that he had only weekends to build memories with his children.

  “I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves.” Even from this distance, Steve could see that Mary Lynn’s smile was forced.

  “Well, I’m off,” he said, as Kenny carried his camping gear into the house.

  “Can’t you come in for a few minutes?” Mary Lynn asked. “You look like you could use a cup of coffee.”

  He toyed with the idea of accepting but didn’t want to take the time. Instead, he tightened his jaw and reached in his back pocket for his checkbook. “How much?” He’d rather pay her and be done with it than be forced to listen to a long litany of reasons she had to have the child-support check early.

  She cast him a hurt look as if he’d deeply insulted her. “I’m not asking for money.”

  “Fine.” He started back toward the car. He needed a shower, shave and Hallie, in that order. Damn, but he was crazy about her. His stomach growled and he amended his list. Shower, shave, food and then Hallie.

  “You always do this to me,” Mary Lynn accused, stopping him dead in his tracks. The woman knew which buttons to push and didn’t hesitate to push them, either.

  “Do what?” he asked out of sheer habit.

  “That. I have something I need to talk to you about. Something I consider important, but you brush me off without a thought and go running to some stupid ball game or bowling or something else that takes you away from your family.”

  “All right, Mary Lynn,” he said, his patience on a short string. “What do you want this time?”

  “I hate it when you use that tone of voice with me.”

  He closed his eyes in an effort to compose himself. “If there’s a problem, perhaps we should schedule a time to discuss it.” Not now, in other words. Definitely not now.

  “Do you have to stand all the way over there? It’s ridiculous for us to shout at each other with half the neighborhood listening in.”

  Steve knew that the minute he stepped into the house he’d be trapped for hours. Mary Lynn always did that to him—and at one time he’d actually welcomed it—but he wasn’t up to her games and schemes this afternoon.

  He walked across the lawn and noticed that it was long overdue to be mowed. If Kip was going to be living in “his” house, then Lard Butt had damn well better keep up the yard.

  He paused at the bottom step. “Better?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Listen, Mary Lynn, I don’t have a lot of time. Just say what it is you want.”

  “You’re using that tone with me again.”

  He felt like he was talking to his aunt Hester. “Is this important or isn’t it?” he demanded.

  “I already said it was, but it’s clear that you’re not willing to help either me or your children. I never thought I’d say this about you, Steve Marris, but you’ve got a cold unfeeling heart.” With those words she burst into tears and stormed into the house.

  Any other time, Steve would have raced after her. Not now. Mary Lynn had a husband to deal with her moods. He wasn’t responsible anymore. His obligation was to his children and to them alone.

  Keeping that in mind, he returned to the car and drove off. But despite his intentions, despite his decision about her place in his life, he couldn’t stop thinking about Mary Lynn. Must be habit, he thought, or residual guilt. He shook his head, determined to put it behind him. He had another life now, one that excluded Mary Lynn. One that included Hallie.

  What he’d told Hallie about loving her was true. Even truer than he’d realized when he said it. He felt like he was seventeen all over again. He wondered at what precise moment he’d fallen for her. Or had their love developed, more gradually, based as it was on friendship? It didn’t matter, he decided. It had happened and he was head over heels crazy about her.

  For the first time since Mary Lynn had asked him to move out, he felt alive and happy. The kind of happy that went clear through him and didn’t get bogged down in regrets and what-ifs. The kind of happy that caused a man to smile from his heart outward. A happiness that wouldn’t easily be taken away.

  His mind raced as he neared home. He parked the car and headed directly for Hallie’s, pounding on her front door. He smelled of camp-fire smoke, sweat, Jimmy McPherson’s pee and God knew what else, but he didn’t care. He needed to kiss her. Tell her he was home. Hold her, if only for a moment.

  At last she swung open the door.

  “Am I forgiven?” he asked, barely giving her time to let the fact that he was standing there register.

  The screen door was still between them. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how long it takes you to kiss me, you fool.”

  He almost tore the screen door off its hinges in his haste. Hallie gave a soft cry of welcome and threw herself into his embrace. He locked both arms around her waist and hauled her against him, savoring her warmth, breathing in her feminine scent.

  He’d dreamed of this moment, anticipated it every second he’d been tramping through the woods with ten Cub Scouts. Generally he liked the outdoors, but this time his mind and heart had been with Hallie.

  Their kiss was long and slow, filled with the wonder of their newly discovered love. He wanted her to know the depth of his frustration, his profound need for her. His blood quickly fired to life, and it demanded every ounce of restraint he possessed not to make love to her right then and there.

  He buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, thinking her love was the closest thing to heaven he was likely to find. Already it was healing him; already he’d felt its effects. Her love was a gift he wouldn’t abuse or accept lightly.

  “I cooked you dinner. Roast chicken.” She said this as if it had some significance.

  “I’m hungry enough to eat it, too,” he said, and kissed the tip of her nose.

  “Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve taken cooking classes.”

  “Then feed me, woman.”

  They kissed again with an
intensity that all but consumed them. When they drew apart, Steve noticed that his beard had chafed her face. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, setting her on her feet.

  “That’s what you said the last time.”

  “Not to worry. Nothing’s going to keep me away again.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She smiled, a smile he could get lost in. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here first, because leaving her even for ten or fifteen minutes was proving damned difficult.

  He was halfway between their houses when she called out, “In case you’ve forgotten, you told me you’d marry a woman who could cook you a decent roast chicken dinner.”

  He froze. “Marry you?”

  She planted her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “You’re going to marry me, Steve Marris, if I have to hog-tie you and drag you down the aisle myself.”

  He forced a short laugh and hurried into the house, his heart in his throat. Hallie wanted a husband; he’d always known it. And now she wanted him for a husband. Marriage. He shouldn’t be shocked, but he was.

  Marriage was serious stuff. Real serious. He’d been through it once, fathered two children. The next thing he knew, Hallie would be talking about having kids of her own. The financial responsibility for Meagan and Kenny already weighed heavily on him, and the thought of taking on that kind of obligation for more children—well, it scared him.

  He walked into the bathroom, stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. The minute the warm spray hit his skin he felt worlds better. They had a lot to discuss, he and Hallie. He loved her, that much he knew, but their entire relationship didn’t need to be defined within the next thirty minutes. Not every decision had to be made right now.

  Out of the shower, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a towel around his waist and shaved a two-day growth of beard from his face. He cut himself once thinking about Hallie, which made him smile. What he should’ve been doing was paying attention to the blade.