The Secret Wedding Wish

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “Doesn’t he?”

  “Just take the picture and get it over with!” Thad growled.

  “Oh, Coach,” the first young woman giggled uproariously again, “We’re going to need a lot more than one good view of you before any of us will be satisfied!”

  THAD WAS TRYING, but this was not his cup of tea. Still, it was for charity, he forced himself to remember as the twenty-two-year-old wife of one of the senior players on the team and an equally young and silly female photographer and two other wives put him through two dozen poses and numerous shots of him manning the grill, until finally even they’d had enough.

  “You’ve been such a good sport.” Alanna Morgan bussed his cheek with the southern familiarity that passed as both hello and goodbye.

  “And we do appreciate your patience,” the other two wives agreed.

  He wasn’t all that patient, Thad thought, as he rushed them through the house as politely as possible and out the front door. And that was when he saw the Delectable Cakes bakery delivery minivan parked on the street in front of his house. He waited until the women had driven off in the limo that came to collect them and all their equipment, then went over to the vehicle. It was locked. Janey was not inside. Which was odd, Thad thought, because he didn’t see her anywhere in his front yard, or on the street of luxury homes, either. So she couldn’t have been there to make a delivery. Could she?

  Puzzled, he started back across the yard, toward the front door, and that was when he decided to check one more thing and noticed the latch on the privacy fence was ajar. And suddenly he had an idea where Janey might be.

  Smiling, he pushed open the gate, strode around the side of the house, and—unbelievably—saw a telltale flash of turquoise blue and white behind the flowers and miniature shrubbery that surrounded the base of the deck.

  “Should I close my eyes and count backwards from ten?” he wondered sardonically out loud. “Or just say ‘Come out, come out, wherever you are’?”

  JANEY SWORE furiously.

  “If you don’t come out of there right now,” Thad warned, “I’m coming in right after you.”

  “I think I’ll just stay right where I am, thank you very much,” Janey retorted stiffly, wondering if it was possible to be any more humiliated than she already was. Somehow, she didn’t think so.

  To her dismay, Thad hunkered down so she could see him—and he could see her, hunched over in the filthy mixture of pine straw and red Carolina mud beneath the wooden deck. “Okay.” He rubbed his hands together as if he couldn’t relish the prospect any more. “Coming in!”

  Janey didn’t think he would really do it, but he did. Before she could do more than draw a quick breath or two, he had slid beneath the decking and crouched down next to her on his knees. “Kind of like being in a grade-school clubhouse, isn’t it?” He looked around admiringly before focusing in with disturbing intensity on her flushed face. “Except this one is a lot better made than anything I ever put together with a hammer and nails.”

  So furious over what she had seen and heard, it was all Janey could do not to smack the smug smile off his handsome face. “Handy, were you?” she drawled as she sat back on her heels, figuring if he could breeze his way through this, so could she.

  “Oh, yeah. I am now, too,” he boasted sexily. “But then I guess you saw that.”

  “Sort of,” she replied, determined to give nothing of what she knew away while she waited to see how much he would confess to. Then she pressed her lips together in a sick parody of a smile. “The view from down here isn’t that good.”

  “I see what you mean.” Thad glanced upward before reaching over and putting both palms on her bare knees. He leaned forward urgently, so they were face to face and nose to nose. “Which begs the question—why are you down here?”

  Janey began to flush. Unfortunately, given the way her weight was distributed over her legs from ankle to knee, she couldn’t move backward with any degree of gracefulness. So once again, she remained where she was, pretending as if she did things this ludicrous every single day. “I stopped by,” she answered him with feigned mildness.

  Looking mouthwateringly attractive in a black silk Hawaiian print shirt, olive green shorts, and deck shoes, he arched a dark brow. “Beneath my deck?” he repeated drolly.

  Janey shrugged, aware her lower legs were beginning to ache from the awkward position. “Your doorbell doesn’t work.”

  “Well that certainly explains it.”

  “I heard music.” Feeling more foolish by the second, Janey gestured inanely. “I came around to say hello, and saw you dancing or being danced around by the cute little blonde, got worried I was interrupting a tête-à-tête of some sort and—”

  He looked abruptly pleased in the way men looked when the woman in their life became jealous. “Panicked?” Thad guessed.

  Janey shrugged, refusing to admit to anything more at this point. She returned his reproving look with a saccharine one of her own. “Well, I guess I could say I dropped an earring and came beneath here to find it,” she said sarcastically, “but I doubt you would believe it.”

  “No kidding.” He didn’t do much to curtail an amused smirk. His voice dropped a compelling notch as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, his warm minty breath ghosting over her face, “Especially since you’re not wearing earrings, and don’t seem to have any in your possession, either.”

  “So, anyway,” Janey removed his palms from her knees. She no longer cared as much about maintaining her dignity as much as ending the sensual tension simmering between them. Pulse racing, she scrambled away from him. “Now that we’ve said hello,” she said, scraping her knees in the muddy pine straw, “I guess I’ll be going.” Clearing the deck on all fours, she tried not to think about what a ridiculously disheveled sight she must be as she stumbled to her feet. All she wanted to do was get out of there, but no, Thad came out after her and caught her hand before she could escape.

  Standing, he leisurely surveyed her muddy, itchy body. “When you arrived, did you by any chance have welts breaking out on your arms and legs?”

  “No.” Janey pulled the hem of her T-shirt back down over her belly button. “But then,” she said, smacking ineffectually at her arm, and then her leg, wondering just what it was she had been kneeling in. Some sort of nest? “I wasn’t itching then, either.”

  “Then I say we get you out of here—” he knocked a blood-sucking insect off her shoulder “—before the mosquitoes eat us both alive.”

  THAD CHIVALROUSLY HELPED HER up onto the deck and led the way into the kitchen. “I don’t know what you think was going on here tonight,” he started casually.

  Janey pushed the suspicious thoughts from her mind. Fair or not, she couldn’t bear to think of him with another woman. Or women. “I’m not sure I need to know,” she told him stiffly, turning away from him.

  He, however, thought she did. Clamping his hands on her shoulders, he brought her right back around. “The wives of the players were here to work on the cookbook for charity. The one your brother Joe and his wife Emma are also participating in,” he said, jogging her memory politely.

  “Oh,” Janey said. No…

  “Now that my part in it is done, is there anything else you would like to ask me?” he asked.

  Feeling like more of a fool than ever, Janey swallowed. If ever a change of subject was in order it’s now, she thought as she rubbed at a swelling welt on her shin. “How come I got bit by what looks like a thousand insects just now and you didn’t?” As far as she could see, he didn’t have a single bite on him—and very little mud—since he had simply hunkered down and rested his weight on his deck-shoe-clad feet.

  “It’s probably your perfume.” His gaze drifted over her rumpled turquoise T-shirt and twisted-around white skirt. “You smell…incredible—to the bugs, as well as me!” He grinned at her, teasing now, as his hands ghosted over her spine to her shoulders, down her arms. “Want to sit down?” he asked.

  Janey lo
oked at his nice furniture and her smudged clothing and despite her fervent wish he would haul her into his arms and kiss her, said, “I’m not sure I should.”

  “Yeah,” Thad agreed with her unexpectedly, “you are a mess.” He rubbed at her cheek with the pad of his thumb. When he took it away, it was covered with dirt.

  “Oh, man,” Janey lamented emotionally, scratching all the harder, her humiliation complete.

  “You know, I hate to say it,” Thad continued candidly, already guiding her toward the stairs off the kitchen, “but I think you need to get into the shower ASAP, and get some soap and water on those insect bites. And while you’re doing that, I’ll make us some dinner.”

  Janey took a wild guess. “Hot dogs?”

  “Don’t make fun.” He regarded her with mock censure. “They’re a sports fan’s delight.”

  He propelled her down a long carpeted hall, toward the master bedroom. It was beautifully appointed, masculine. With heavy mahogany furniture, custom bronze and black bed linens and curtains. The bathroom was equally beautiful—with tan ceramic tile, white cabinetry, black marble countertops, Jacuzzi tub and shower. “Toss your clothes out, and I’ll put them in the wash.”

  “And then what?” Janey asked uncertainly, aware he was sending her more than a few mixed messages. “I wait in here until my clothes are dry?”

  “No, silly, you put on my robe and come down to the kitchen where I’ll have a glass of wine waiting for you.” He paused. “Unless of course you want to go home looking like you’ve been rolling around in my backyard?”

  “Very funny.” Unfortunately, he was right. Her neighbors liked to walk their dogs, ride their bikes and sit on front porches this time of evening. If she left his place looking like this, there would be questions that might even make their way back to her mother. That was the last thing she needed. “All right. I accept your offer,” Janey said reluctantly. “But I’m counting on you to be a gentleman.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I promise I’ll be as good to you as I know how to be,” he said in a low voice dripping with innuendo.

  Janey shook her head, but didn’t deny the thought of making love with him again was incredibly tempting.

  Smiling, he stepped outside the bathroom and turned his back.

  Janey stripped off her clothes, including the sheer white demi-bra and matching thong panties, and tossed them at him through the narrow opening in the slightly ajar bathroom door. He chuckled as he caught them but did not turn around before setting off in the opposite direction. Marvelling at his willpower—she wasn’t sure if she would have been able to resist putting the moves on him if the situation had been reversed—she closed the door completely, turned the water to hot and stepped beneath the massaging showerhead. Being careful not to get her hair wet, she luxuriated in the smell of the masculine fragrance of the soap he used. Secretly thrilled at the intimacy of showering where he did, she wondered what it would be like to make love in here, against the wall. If it would be as good as the first time they’d been together. She wondered if he was as hungry for her as she was for him.

  Her mind laced with erotic fantasies, she could have stayed there all day. Not wanting him to come and check up on her, though—that was a little too obvious, even for her—she got out, toweled off, and slipped on his robe. It was way too big for her and smelled deliciously like him, too. She wrapped the belt around her twice, ran a brush through her hair, and went to join him in the kitchen.

  To her surprise, he had prepared a plate of cheese and a large salad, and lo and behold, he did have a pan of hot dogs and another of chili simmering in a small condiment-size Crock-Pot on the counter. Janey glanced at the liquid simmering in the pan. “Is that…beer?” she asked in surprise.

  “Mmm-hmm.” Thad brought a bag of soft squishy buns from the pantry, and got all the hot-dog fixings from the fridge. He shot her a glance, seeming to like the way she looked in his robe. “Ever tried it?”

  “I guess I’m going to,” Janey allowed, as she slipped barefoot onto one of the stools at the marble-topped center island. “Is this what you were doing earlier when the other women were here?”

  Thad nodded. “The secret is to simmer the franks in beer for at least twenty minutes, and then sear them on the grill. Really brings out the flavor.”

  Funny, she had never seen him as at all domestic. But then, there was a lot she had yet to learn about him—a lot she wanted to learn. “And you know this because?” She sipped her wine.

  Thad sat down on the stool next to her, his back to the counter. “My first year coaching in the minor leagues, I also majored in hot-dog science.”

  Janey blinked in confusion. “Excuse me?”

  Thad picked up his wine. “I was really poor because the only people who make less than the players in the minor leagues are the assistant coaches.” He shrugged his broad shoulders amiably. “Hot dogs were the only thing I knew how to cook. So I cut a deal with the concessions manager at the rink where we played our games, bought a case of hot dogs for cost, and took ’em back to my apartment and put them in the freezer.” The corners of his lips turned up ruefully. “You have no idea how tired you can get of hot dogs if you eat them every single day for lunch and dinner.”

  Janey smiled. “I think I can imagine.” About as tired as she was of cake, any kind of cake.

  “I mean I cooked ’em in pork and beans and in casseroles, and ate ’em plain and barbecued and with sauerkraut and onions. By the end of that first year, when I finally got a raise and could afford a steak and a chicken every now and then, I never wanted to see another hot dog.”

  “And yet,” Janey said softly, aware she was seeing a new side of Thad, a vulnerable side, “you are cooking them tonight.”

  “Because I had to—for the team cookbook. And—” his voice dropped significantly, as he searched her eyes “—’cause I like to remind myself that I come from very humble beginnings and any success I have is just as temporary as any failure.”

  Janey’s smile widened. “That’s deep,” she teased, trying hard not to fall head over heels in love with him.

  He winked at her flirtatiously. “And here you thought I was just a dumb son-of-a-gun who tells jocks how to push a puck around the ice.” Thad patted her on the knee.

  “I don’t think you’re dumb,” Janey said as he slid off the stool, shut off the stove, and began getting out the barbecue utensils and setting them on the counter.

  “You don’t?”

  Janey slid off her stool and went to stand next to him. “A dumb guy couldn’t have gotten me out of my clothes and into his shower within the first fifteen minutes of my arrival here tonight.”

  Thad grinned as he leaned back against the counter, folded his arms and gave her the sexy once-over. “You do look rather nice in my robe,” he allowed in a low, sultry tone.

  “And,” Janey said recklessly, opening it up and letting it fall to the floor. “I look even better without it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Thad had been prepared to do a lot more persuading, but that mission was proved unnecessary when Janey closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms snugly around him. She rose up on tiptoe, the softness of her breasts pressing against his chest, the soapy clean scent of her skin inundating his senses. “I think,” she whispered against his lips, her yearning for him as clear as day, “this is the part where you kiss me again.”

  It was always the sweet and seemingly unattainable ones that turned out to be the most uninhibited, Thad thought, as her mouth opened beneath his and their tongues mated in an erotic dance like nothing he had ever imagined. And Janey Hart Campbell was one wild and feisty woman.

  Pleasure swept through him and he continued kissing her as he stepped between her legs. Anchoring an arm beneath her softly curving derriere, he lifted her up and situated Janey so her weight was settled against his middle. As a mischievously grinning Janey wreathed her arms about his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist, Thad felt his spirits soar
even more. He didn’t know why or how he had been given this gift. He didn’t care. He only knew he was never letting this sweet and sexy woman go.

  “This time we’re doing it right,” he murmured as he carried her up the stairs, loving the way she felt so soft and naked and warm against him. “We’re going to my bed.”

  “How…tame…” she teased him between hot, openmouthed kisses, stroking a hand down his chest and sliding it beneath the open neck of his shirt.

  “Believe me—there’s nothing tame about what I want to do to you,” he said as he tumbled her down onto his king-sized bed, enjoying the sight of her with her cheeks all flushed, her silky chestnut hair spilling over her shoulders, her body already visibly ready for him.

  Janey reclined on her side, curves displayed sexily for his perusal and watched him undress. He knew what she presumed as she struggled to keep this on a strictly playful level—that this was just about sex. But it wasn’t, he thought, as he joined her on the bed and stretched out facing her. It was so very much more—their hearts and minds and souls had been engaged from the very first. “I’ve been thinking about this since that first time….”

  He trailed a hand over the indentation of her waist, the curve of her hip, the lissome line of her thigh, watching as her lips parted softly. Her breath was coming in soft fits and starts as she watched him caress her abdomen.

  “So have I.”

  She looked so full of need for him, it nearly stopped his heart. Pulse pounding, senses already in an uproar, he cupped his hand over the bare flesh of her buttocks and squeezed gently. It was going to be a hell of an effort, but this time, he promised himself, he was going to go slow. Make sure she got every ounce of enjoyment out of this, and then some.

  “About all the things I didn’t do,” Thad continued lazily as his palm inched upward, toward her breasts. “And want to do.”

  She hitched in a breath as he explored the satiny pink tip of her nipple with the pad of his thumb and kissed him back pliantly. “I think you covered it pretty well,” she murmured sexily.