To Catch a Husband

by Laura Marie Altom

“Dammit, Adam. The girl’s sweet as cotton candy. She adores you, and to be honest, at the moment, the whole family—myself included—likes her a whole helluva lot more than you.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Adam said from in front of the fridge. He pulled out a pack of hot dogs and shoved four into his mouth.

  Caleb marched to his side, snatching one for himself. “What’s wrong with you, man? What kind of games are you playing? Dad brought us up better than that.”

  Adam rolled his eyes.

  “I’m not fooling around. I know you’ve been seeing a shrink, and that she thinks the solution to your problem is seeing other women, but personally I think that’s a crock. All you really need is—”

  “Peace and quiet,” his brother said from the foot of the bunk bed where he was pulling on his jeans. “Catch you later, bro.”

  Barefoot with no shirt on, Adam headed for the great outdoors.

  “Don’t you walk out on—” Too late. Adam had already slammed the door.

  “Coast clear?” Charity asked, creaking open the bathroom door.

  “Relatively.”

  She beelined for the crumpled black jeans and T-shirt piled on the floor.

  “If it helps,” he said, “we’re all rooting for you.”

  “What would help,” she said, cradling her clothes to her chest on the way back to the bathroom, “is for you and everyone else to stay out of this.”

  “But we want you two to finally tie the knot. Lord knows, you already act like an old married couple. Don’t you think it’s high time you made it official?”

  The only reply Caleb got was a slammed bathroom door.

  Chapter Ten

  “Sorry about that,” Adam said to Bug from his perch on a lakeside boulder. The morning was cloudless and still. The lake, a mirror reflecting age-old firs taller than his apartment building. “Caleb was out of line.”

  “Was he?” she asked, joining him on the rock.

  He shot her a dirty look. “You can’t be serious? You think this strong-arm tactic of my family’s to throw us together is cool?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, hand on his forearm. “True, most of what they’ve done was a bit heavy-handed.”

  “A bit?” Adam winced.

  “All I’m saying is that whether we end up together, or not, you need help. You’re letting your past determine your future, and it’s not healthy—for either of us, seeing how I’ve pretty much pinned my future on you.”

  “Wish you wouldn’t,” Adam said. She looked so pretty in the morning sun. Even wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair a mess and no makeup, she was stunning in a simple, wholesome way.

  “I wish I could not think about you, too,” she said softly, staring out at the lake. “There are times I wish I’d never even met you.”

  “Would it help if I filed for a transfer?”

  “I used to think so.” She swallowed hard, and when she finally did look at him, her eyes shone with unshed tears.

  “What do you want me to do? Name it and I’ll do it.”

  She laughed through tears she no longer bothered to hold back.

  “Don’t cry,” he said. “Please don’t cry. I’ll marry you, okay? Just name the day and time and I’ll be there.”

  His offer only made her cry harder.

  “D-don’t you get it?” she said. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to marry you, Adam, but what would be the point? Two, three, ten years down the road, after we’ve brought kids into the world, you decide you’re still hung up on the past. Still harboring guilt over Angela’s death or still in love with her or whatever. What happens when those feelings eat you alive, and we wind up in an ugly divorce? Sorry,” she said with a brittle laugh, “but that’s not my idea of a good time.”

  “So where do we go from here?” Adam asked, scared he was on the verge of losing the best thing to ever happen to him, and all because of…what?

  Standing, Bug said, “I’m going to grab my stuff and catch a ride home with Sam and Bear.”

  Adam squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Caleb or Beau will take you. Please not Sam.”

  He opened his eyes to find her staring at him with a look of disgust, pity, loathing. “Doesn’t matter how I get there,” she said. “I just have to get home.”

  “Then let me take you.” He scrambled to his feet, wincing from the rock’s bite on his bare feet.

  “That’s okay,” she said with a halfhearted wave midway through the field leading to the cabin.

  He hobbled after her, but then stopped.

  What was chasing after her going to do other than hurt more? Bottom line, he knew in his heart he wasn’t good enough for her. Period. End of his sad, screwed-up story.

  Why couldn’t he run after her, pull her into his arms and make her understand why he was so messed up? Why? Because if he didn’t even know himself, how the hell was he supposed to explain it to her?

  CHARITY SLEPT the whole ride home, thankful she’d called backseat ahead of Bear, who usually hid out in the back playing Tetris on his Game Boy.

  In front of her building, Sam hopped out to grab her gear from the storage compartment. Bear was in the front seat, snoring.

  “Well, thanks for the ride,” she said, reaching for her two bags.

  He held tight to them. “Let me see you up. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thanks, but—”

  “I’m seeing you to your door,” he said, already headed up the walk.

  Too weary to fight him, she followed, opening the door, then, in the small, elegantly furnished lobby, she pressed the elevator’s up button.

  The ride was tense.

  The moment in front of her door when she went fishing for her key, a thousand times worse.

  “I’m sorry about what went down out there,” he said. “I went along strictly for the poker. For the record, I never wanted to see you with Adam. The guy’s a head case. You deserve better.”

  “Funny,” she said, shooting him a half smile. “He says the same thing about himself—and you.”

  “Thereby proving my point. Rest up,” he said, setting her bags in front of the door. “Then have dinner with me later.”

  “Thanks, but…” She shook her head.

  “Come on,” he urged. “One dinner. It’s all-you-can-eat-prime-rib night at Ziggy’s. I’ll even help you make sense of whatever it is you’re feeling for Adam.”

  “Okay,” she said, fitting the key in her lock. “But strictly as friends—and mostly because drowning myself in prime rib sounds like heaven.” Yes, seeing how her dream of not only procreating with, but marrying Adam would never come true, she needed to get on with finding the real man with whom she was destined to live out her life. Deep in her heart of hearts, she knew Sam wasn’t the one. The one would have to cause happy butterflies in her stomach. Kind of like the ones she’d experienced while she and Adam had made love.

  “Great,” Sam said with a little clap. “Pick you up at seven?”

  “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Fair enough.” He winked. “It’s a date.”

  “No, Sam, it’s just dinner between—” The elevator dinged and he stepped on. “Friends,” she finished out of principle. “We’re just friends.”

  Door open, Charity kicked her bags inside, then collapsed on the sofa, glowering at the gorgeous Mount Hood view.

  The day was sheer perfection. Bright sun, the temperature in the mid-seventies. Not a breath of wind. The rest of Portland was biking or hiking or just lounging in the sun like lazy turtles. All of which she should’ve been doing, trying to keep busy to keep her mind off of Adam. Off of the amazing feel of his hands and mouth on her—

  No good, she thought, reaching for the phone.

  Charity tried her sister at home, and eventually reached her on her cell. Steph answered on the third ring. “Sis,” she gushed. “I’m so glad you called. I was just about to call you, but—” Her voice sounded muffled for a second, and in the background there was
laughing and chatter and clinking and jubilant classical music. “Sorry,” she said, back on the line. “Dr. Larry’s cousin Helen’s leaving, and I wanted to give her a proper goodbye. Oh, Charity, you’re never going to believe what this amazing man did for me. First, on a dawn hot-air balloon ride, floating past Mount Hood, he proposed. Then, once we had our feet back on the ground, he caught me completely off guard with a gorgeous surprise engagement party. Absolutely everyone we know is here, except you. Larry wanted to call you, but with you being up north on a case and all—”

  “It’s okay,” Charity said. “I understand. And I’m thrilled for you. Really.”

  “Where are you? We’re at Larkspur Junction at that sweet B and B. It’s on the main drag through town. You can’t miss it. Why don’t you drive down?”

  “Thanks—” Charity crossed her fingers “—but I’m still in Cedarville. It sounds fun, but just isn’t feasible.”

  “All right,” Steph said in a pouty tone. “But I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. Congratulations.” Charity turned off her phone, then settled in for a long afternoon of self-pity. Who’d have thought both Caldwell girls would be proposed to on the same morning?

  Had Charity been stupid to not take Adam up on his offer? True it hadn’t been sincere, but with time, who knew? Maybe it could’ve all somehow worked out.

  On her way to the shower, she snort-laughed.

  “YOU’RE LATE,” Sam said as Charity slipped into the booth at Ziggy’s that she usually shared with Adam.

  “Sorry. There was a wreck on Boulder and Lincoln. Had to take the long way around.”

  “Not a problem,” he said. “Sounds like you need a beer.”

  “Two or three,” she said with a grin. “But seeing how I’m my own designated driver, better stick with iced tea.”

  “Sure?” he asked. “Dinner will take at least an hour or two. Plus, I hear Ziggy’s launching his first karaoke night on this very evening. Meaning you’re in for a treat.” He winked.

  “Oh, yeah?” Already knowing what she wanted to order, she slipped her menu to the table’s edge. “What’re you going to sing?”

  “It’s a toss-up between ‘New York, New York’ and ‘Every Breath You Take’ by the Police.”

  “Interesting choices,” she said just before the waitress appeared.

  “Where’s your usual sidekick?” Nancy asked.

  “Beats me,” Charity said with a disinterested shrug. “Oooooh,” Nancy said. “Lover’s quarrel.”

  “We’re not—” Charity had been on the verge of fighting the lovers comment, but seeing how they now were officially lovers, what was the point? “Um, when you get a chance, I’ll have iced tea and the all-you-can-eat special.”

  “You got it,” she said, taking Sam’s order, then hustling off to another table.

  “Logue’s a first-class jerk for what he’s putting you through. If you were mine,” Sam said, reaching for her hand, “I’d treat you like a princess. You’d for sure never be at loose ends on a Saturday night.”

  “Don’t,” she said, too emotionally shattered to even bother looking him in the eyes. “Please, just don’t.”

  “Sorry, but it needs to be said. I’m only—”

  “One more word,” she said with a slight lift of her chin, “and I’m out the door.”

  “Fair enough.” He grinned. “So? It was a gorgeous day. You get a chance to get out and enjoy all that sun?”

  ADAM SAUNTERED into Ziggy’s and groaned to hear the warbling coming from the newly installed stage just to the right of the bar. Great. Just freakin’ great.

  He’d come in here for solace. A few slabs of prime rib. A few beers. A few quarters of football, basketball or ping-pong. Didn’t much matter what the sport was, just so long as it got his mind off last night. Holding Charity. Kissing her, easing into her.

  Losing his soul to her.

  “Long time no see!” Nancy called from behind the bar. “Charity’s already in your usual booth if you’re meeting her!”

  No way.

  Eyes closed, rubbing his forehead, Adam was on the verge of leaving when out of the corner of his eye he caught a blood-curdling sight he’d no doubt carry to his grave.

  Bug wasn’t alone in their booth, but with Sam. And she was laughing over something Suck-up had said.

  Growling low in his throat, it was all Adam could do not to march over there and drag her caveman-style back to his apartment where he’d—

  What? Make love to her again? Heck, yeah.

  But then what? Would they spend the night together only to wake up to another awkward morning like this one? To more circular talk and logic that endlessly made him out to be the bad guy and her a saint.

  Didn’t matter that she was saint, he thought, easing into a corner booth with a too-good view of his most despised enemy and the woman he loved but didn’t deserve.

  Nancy sauntered over, order pad in one hand, draft beer in her other. “Looks like you’ve had better days.”

  He downed half the beer. “Better decades.”

  “Okay, let’s hear it,” she said with a grunt, sliding onto the seat across from him. “What’s up between you and the cutie you’re normally hanging with?” She nodded in Bug’s direction.

  “Got a week?”

  “More like two minutes.”

  “Then I’ll give you the highlight reel. Girl says she loves boy. Boy thinks he loves girl, but isn’t quite sure how to tell for certain, and then proceeds to thoroughly screw himself out of any chance of living happily ever after.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Nancy said.

  “Look at them.” He jerked his thumb their direction. “Laughing it up. She’s having the time of her life.”

  “Humph. Ever occur to you she’s a little too happy? Trust me, it’s an act. Five seconds before you walked in the room, her chin was lower than Ziggy’s bar revenues since putting in that damned karaoke machine.”

  He laughed, but the slight lift in spirits didn’t last long as Suck-up mounted the stage.

  “Test,” Sam said into the microphone, tapping it a couple times. “Testing, one, two.”

  “Here we go,” Nancy said, rolling her eyes. “This is his third number. But I have to admit, he’s pretty good.”

  “At barking,” Adam muttered under his breath.

  Nancy slid out of the booth. Patting his back, she said, “I’ll be right out with your Saturday-night usual.”

  As Sam launched into some sappy boy band ballad, Adam stole a glance at Charity. She was beautiful. He wanted her. Now. But through his own stupid insecurities and hang-ups, he’d put her under a glass case he didn’t have the foggiest idea how to break.

  She must’ve felt his stare, as she looked his way.

  At first, she lurched, as if just the sight of him had startled her. But then she winked, as if the two of them were in on some big secret. Only for the life of him he didn’t know what it was.

  But he was about to find out…

  While Sam was still crooning, Adam moseyed on over to his usual booth and his usual dinner companion.

  “Hey,” he said, easing onto the seat beside her.

  “Hey.”

  “What’d you do all day?” he asked, snagging one of her home fries.

  “Truth? Moped.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Me, too. Wanna get out of here? Talk?”

  “Yep.”

  “Great, let’s go.”

  “I want to,” she said. “But I’m not going to. I adore you, Adam, but there comes a point in every girl’s love life when self-preservation has to kick in. For my own sanity, I can’t hang out with you anymore. Share prime rib, beer or football with you. I have to quit you. Cold turkey.”

  Sam finished his song and Bug burst into applause.

  “Great job,” she said when he got back to the booth. “You’ve got real talent.”

  He shrugged. “Mom made me take five years of singing lessons before I finally convinced
Dad to talk her into letting me quit.”

  “You should’ve kept going,” she said with a dainty sip of her tea. “You might’ve been the next American Idol.”

  It was all Adam could do not to barf. Was Bug even listening to herself?

  “What time did you get back into town?” Sam asked.

  “Sixish. Caleb, Beau and Dad insisted on spending the afternoon fishing.”

  “Sounds fun,” Sam said. “Catch anything?”

  “Don’t know,” Adam said, helping himself to another of Bug’s fries, hoping Suck-up got the hint. The fries were his, and so was the woman. “I napped. It was a long night.”

  Bug kicked him under the table.

  “Ouch,” he said. “What’d you do that for?”

  “Come on,” she said to Sam, grabbing her purse. “Let’s go.”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  She nodded, shot Adam one last dirty look, then left the bar.

  “BUG!” ADAM HOLLERED outside her condo two hours and roughly eight beers later—he’d lost count somewhere around five.

  “Hush,” she said, fumbling with the chain lock. “You want old Mrs. Kleypus to call the police?”

  “I drank too much,” he said.

  “I can smell.” Stepping aside for him to enter, she waved her hand in front of her nose. “You didn’t drive over here, did you?”

  “Nope. I was a good boy and took a cab. Sam here?” he asked, doing a quick search of the kitchen, bedroom and bath.

  “No, he’s not,” she said, chasing after him, catching up at the foot of her bed. “And you shouldn’t be, either.”

  “I live here,” he said.

  “No, Adam, you don’t.”

  “But I want to,” he said, hands on her shoulders, angling in for a kiss.

  She scrambled away from him. “No, you don’t,” she reminded him. “You want to live where you were with Angela, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Sitting hard on the edge of the bed, he scratched his head. “Only after you left Ziggy’s, I got to thinking about that, and maybe I like it here better.”

  “You are so wasted,” she said. “If I had half a brain, I’d call security and have them kick your butt to the curb.”

  “But you love me and want to take care of me, right?”