by Kristi Gold
“Tori, are you on the Pill?”
“Kind of late to be asking me that, Mitch.”
No kidding. “I know.”
“The answer is no.”
Oh, hell. “Then—”
“But I have taken a birth control shot, so we should be okay. At least where pregnancy is concerned. I know I’m safe in the disease department. I’ve only been with one man.”
“So am I. I’ve only been with one woman for the past nine years.”
“Mary Alice.”
He glanced at her but she continued to study the stars. “How did you know about that?”
“This is a small town, Mitch. People talk. That’s why you have to promise me you won’t say anything about this.”
The concern in her voice led to his reassurance. “I’m not going to tell anyone, Tori. You can trust me.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I’m….”
When her voice trailed off, Mitch turned to his side again and pulled her over to face him. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think that you’re what?”
“You know. Someone who would do this kind of thing.” She released a humorless laugh. “That’s really stupid considering I did do this, and we are consenting adults, and it’s really no one’s business—”
Mitch stopped her words with a kiss then bracketed her face in his palms. “I don’t think any less of you, Tori. It’s just one of those things that happens when two people are attracted to each other.”
She laid a dramatic hand on her chest and grinned, though Mitch still saw the worry in her dark eyes. “Does this mean you still like me?”
Mitch laughed, something he didn’t do that often, especially not in the presence of a woman. “Yeah, Tori, I like you.” And he did, a lot.
“Okay, that’s great. But if you really like me, then you’ll find a way to get your keys before we both turn into human icicles.”
Mitch started to protest, to ask her to put her incredible body back against his so they could have a little more time together, something that was damn out of character for him. He normally wasn’t the let’s-hold-each-other-after-sex kind of guy, but then this wasn’t exactly a normal situation. And Tori wasn’t just any woman. But he also realized that they both needed some sleep so they wouldn’t pass out during the wedding tomorrow night.
Tomorrow night. Maybe they could have a repeat performance, out of the elements and in a real bed. His bed. And he wouldn’t be so careless the next time.
That alone spurred Mitch from beneath the covers and onto his feet to hold out his hand and help Tori up. Once they were standing, he took the opportunity to pull her against his chest one more time, feel her against him one more time, kiss her one more time before letting her go.
After they left the truck, they walked the path in silence and stopped at the front door, where they found the pilfered keys taped to the screen.
Mitch yanked them down and tossed them up, snatching them in midair. “At least I didn’t have to go frisk Stella to find these. That would have really sent Bobby over the edge.”
Tori’s smile was soft and self-conscious. “I’m sure Bobby’s out like a light. At least I hope so.”
They stared at each other for a solid few seconds before Mitch leaned over and this time kissed her cheek, fearing if he did more he’d be tempted to ask her if he could join her on the sofa.
“I had a good time tonight, Tori.” A serious understatement. He’d had a great time. The best time he’d had in a long, long time.
“So did I.” She rubbed her hands down her arms. “But I think it’s probably wise if we don’t have quite as good a time tomorrow night.”
So much for his plans. “You’re probably right.” And she probably was, but Mitch couldn’t help hoping that maybe he might have more of what he’d experienced with her tonight, just one last time before she left. But he wouldn’t ask that of her, not now. Not when he could see the guilt calling out from her dark eyes.
“Tell Bobby I’ll be by to get him in the morning since it’s bad luck to see the bride on the day of the wedding.”
“Okay, but it’s too late for that. He’s going to see her unless I blindfold him.”
“Probably not a bad idea at that. He’s going to have one hell of a headache and the sun isn’t going to help.”
“Serves him right.” Tori sent him another smile as she opened the screen. “Guess I’ll see you at the altar.”
Mitch experienced a sharp stab of fear. “At the altar?”
She frowned. “Stella and Bobby’s wedding?”
Damn. He was acting like a total fool. “Yeah. The wedding. Stella and Bob’s wedding at Stella’s parents’ house. Tomorrow night.”
When she opened the door, he said, “One more thing.”
She faced him again, her long, slender fingers curled around the handle. “What?”
“I just want you to know that I’m not normally this careless.”
“Me neither. Guess we were just feeling a little frisky.”
When she smiled again, he wanted to kiss her again. Real bad. “’Night Tori.”
“Good night, Mitch.”
He watched her slip inside the house and close the door, then watched the door some more, hoping she might come back out. Hoping she might invite him in. Like that was going to happen. He’d totally screwed up everything by doing something he should never have done. Something he hoped wouldn’t affect both his and Tori’s future. But he had to trust that what she’d said was true—she couldn’t get pregnant.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Mitch walked back to the truck and slid inside, calling himself ten kinds of a fool for losing control, vowing to forget this ever happened. But when he started the engine and turned on the heat full blast, he could smell Tori’s floral scent flowing through the truck—a scent that was all over his clothes, all over his body.
The taste of her was still fresh in his mind, on his tongue, jump-starting his desire back to life when he recalled in great detail how it had felt to be inside her. How he had totally, completely lost himself in the moment. And just as important, how it had felt to talk to a woman who’d actually listened to what he’d said, a woman who’d treated him like a man, not like a means to maintain her status among Quail Run’s limited elite—like Mary Alice Marshall, who’d recently turned her affections to Brady Stevens, the banker. More like to his checkbook.
Mitch really didn’t care. The relationship had been going nowhere for years, and they’d both realized that for a while now. In fact, he’d been relieved when Mary Alice had called it off. He was really glad she had, especially tonight. Otherwise, he might still be settling for convenience, missing out on making love with an angel. An experience he wouldn’t soon forget.
Regardless, he would try to avoid repeating the reckless behavior tomorrow night, even if he couldn’t avoid Tori. He would be a gentleman and keep his hands to himself, if that was what she wanted.
But he wasn’t going to like it. Not one damn bit.
Tori leaned against the closed door with eyes shut tight. Even though it was warm inside the house, she felt chilled to the marrow.
“Where have you been, Victoria May?”
Her eyes snapped open to find Stella seated on the frayed tan chair wearing a tattered robe, her hair in curlers and her eyes blurry with sleep. “Why are you still awake?”
“Bobby’s snoring like a freight train.”
Tori pushed away from the door. “What? No, ‘Give it to me Stella?’”
Stella blushed like a vine-ripe tomato. “You heard that?”
“I heard plenty. So did Mitch. That’s why we left.” Tori re-hung her coat back on the rack and started toward the small hall that led to the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower.” And try to wash away the remnants of the mistake she’d just made.
Stella stood and blocked the path. “You didn’t answer my question. Where did you and Mitch go?”
“We sat in the back of his truck
.”
“What did you do back there?”
“Uh, we talked.”
“Only talked?”
Tori didn’t dare tell Stella anything different and not because she didn’t trust her. She just didn’t want to have to explain her imprudent behavior. “Yeah. We talked. General conversation. You and Bobby ought to try it.”
Stella grinned and yanked a piece of straw from Tori’s hair, holding it up as if she’d found the prize egg at Easter. “Looks to me like someone had a roll in the hay.”
Tori strode to the sofa, perched on the edge and covered her face in her hands to hide the guilt. “We did it,” she blurted out, then peeked between her fingers to see Stella’s reaction.
Stella hovered over her with eyes as wide as world globes. “You mean you ‘did it’ as in made love with Mitch Warner?”
Tori dropped her hands to her lap and fell back against the sofa. “We had sex, Stella. You can’t make love with someone you barely know.”
Stella took a seat beside her. “Was it great?”
Tori could feel the flames rise to her face. “Oh, yeah. Better than great.”
Stella slapped Tori hard on the thigh. “It’s about time you took a few chances.”
Unfortunately, Tori had taken a huge chance that she wished she could take back. “We didn’t use anything for protection.”
Tori didn’t think Stella’s eyes could get any wider, but they did. “Oh, no. Don’t you know what can happen when you do that?”
Oh, yes, Tori knew exactly what could happen because it had happened to her mother and to Stella. She’d been certain that she was above such carelessness. A fine time to have a common sense lapse.
“Do you think you might be pregnant?” Stella asked.
“I’m hoping I’m not. I took a shot a while ago.”
“Define ‘a while.’”
“About five months ago.”
“Isn’t that a little long for it to still be of use, Tori?”
“Yes, although sometimes it takes women up to a year to get pregnant. I just didn’t have any reason to get another one after Mike and I broke up.” Until tonight.
“If you are pregnant, what are you going to do?”
Have a baby, Tori decided. Her mother had done it without a husband; she could do it, too. But hopefully it wouldn’t have to come to that.
Tori came to her feet and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m not going to worry about it now. I’d just be borrowing trouble.”
And if she let things get out of hand with Mitch again, she’d be borrowing a national debt’s worth of trouble. She still wanted the interview, but she doubted she would have the nerve to ask. She wasn’t sure she could even face him again.
But she had to face him tomorrow night at the wedding. Beyond that, she would just take it one step at a time—and hope that she didn’t find herself repeating her mother’s history and stepping into his arms because she just couldn’t resist him.
She had to resist him. She also had to consider that she still had an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. But if she didn’t get him to agree to giving her a story, she would be leaving on Sunday. Leaving him and this intolerant town behind. And hopefully she wouldn’t be leaving with a little reminder of the night she’d found sheer heaven in a maverick cowboy’s strong arms.
Three
The following evening, Tori stood in her best friend’s bedroom where she’d spent many a day during her youth, giggling over boys and even crying over them a time or two. The house had been her haven, her home away from home. The place where she’d felt welcome, never judged or pitied. She had known unconditional love and acceptance from Stella’s parents, who now waited downstairs to witness the marriage of their only daughter. Tori would never know the pleasure of having her mom in attendance should she decide to wed, and that made her sad on a night that should be filled with joy.
The soft sounds of taped music signaled the ceremony was about to take place in the Moores’ living room among select family and friends. Mitch was downstairs, too, and that created havoc on Tori’s heartbeat, more than the prospect of singing in front of a whole slew of people. She’d hidden out that morning when he’d come to retrieve Bobby, and he’d nixed the brief rehearsal right before noon due to ranch obligations, sending his apologies and assurances to Stella that he knew what to do. Tori couldn’t argue that one bit. Last night, he’d known exactly what he was doing.
At least she wouldn’t have to talk to him during the service. Of course, she couldn’t very well avoid him at the reception without looking obvious. Exactly what did one say to someone following one reckless night? She didn’t have a clue, nor could she afford to think about that now.
Smoothing a hand over the long-sleeve, tea-length red velvet dress, Tori hoped she hadn’t left a spot from her perspiring palms. Stella sat at the dressing table while Janie and Brianne applied the finishing touches on her makeup. All of them had been uncharacteristically quiet in light of the event—the first of the “Fearsome Foursome” was about to embark on matrimony and parenthood.
Tori wondered if in a few short years they would all be soccer moms. Not her, she decided. She wanted to make a solid go of her career before she even considered settling into a normal routine. She also wanted a two-parent home, something she hadn’t had. She could not in good conscience subject her child to that kind of existence, even though she’d done okay. She wanted more than okay. She wanted it all—the career, the home, the husband and the kids. All in good time, unless….
Her interlude with Mitch Warner once again weaseled its way into her mind. Carelessness, plain and simple, and hopefully without repercussions.
The bouquet of red roses and stephanotis began to shake in Tori’s hand when she recalled their lovemaking. How was she going to face him if she couldn’t maintain a good grip on a bunch of posies?
“Okay, we’re ready,” Brianne proclaimed, drawing Tori’s attention.
Stella was standing now, the fingertip-length veil somewhat concealing her face but the plain lace sheath couldn’t conceal her pregnancy. However, the dress was tasteful—and white—something that would have been unheard of a decade ago, especially in this hypercritical town. Maybe things had changed. Or maybe Stella just didn’t care what everyone else thought.
“You look beautiful, Stella,” Tori said sincerely, her voice shaky as she fought back sentimental tears. “Bobby is going to be so proud of you.”
Stella frowned, although her eyes misted. “Bobby’s lucky I’m still marrying him.”
“And he’s very lucky to have you,” Brianne said as she swiped a hand over the moisture on her own cheeks.
Janie walked to the door and opened it wide. “Okay, let’s go before we all start blubbering and ruin our makeup. Single file. I’m first, then Brianne, then Tori. Stella, you’re bringing up the rear.”
Brianne blew out a frustrated breath. “We know, Janie. We’ve already been through the routine.”
Janie shot an acrimonious look over one shoulder. “I just want to make sure we have it straight.”
Tori couldn’t hide her smile over Janie’s assertiveness and need to organize. Some things never changed, at least inwardly. She patted Stella’s arm and said, “Break a leg, kiddo,” before moving in front of her.
“Not a nice thing to say to a pregnant bride who’s expected to walk down a flight of stairs in heels,” Stella muttered from behind her.
The sound of the Wedding March filtered in from the parlor below. Janie sent them all a “thumbs-up” then began her descent. As earlier rehearsed, Tori waited until Brianne had taken three steps then started down the stairs behind her.
The makeshift aisle was flanked by four rows of white chairs on either side, all filled to capacity. Some guests lined the walls and although the living room was larger than most, the masses made the room seem to close in on Tori. Anticipation and adrenaline sent her pulse on a sprint as she continued her descent.
When she reached the r
ed runner covering the carpet, Tori scanned the front of the room, namely the groomsmen. With his sandy stylish hair and charmer’s smile, Clint Moore looked handsome as always, even if he was a playboy extraordinaire. Bobby’s older brother, Johnny, bald as a bowling ball and grinning like a madman, stood at Clint’s right. And on his left, nearest the groom, one man literally stood above the crowd.
Dressed in a standard black tuxedo, Mitch Warner had morphed into the senator’s son, his boots the only indication that he preferred prime cattle to a political caucus. His eyes were as blue as his blood, his hair as black as the dark before the dawn, a perfect masculine package that could be marketed as Every Woman’s Fantasy.
In that moment, Tori felt about as “country bumpkin” and nondescript as she’d ever felt in her life. Mitch was luminous and charismatic, especially his smile that he now aimed on her. A smile that could wilt her bouquet.
Tori’s steps faltered for an instant. If she didn’t watch it, she’d take a misstep, end up posterior over pride in the aisle and be forced to sing “Send in the Clowns” instead of “The Wedding Song.” Of course, if Bobby had had his way, she’d be belting out “I’ve Got Friends in Low Places.” Lucky for her, and the esteemed guests, Stella’s good taste had won out.
After she took her position before the red brick fireplace where the pastor, Janie and Brianne now stood, Tori turned to watch Stella gliding down the aisle on her father’s arm, glowing like a summer firefly. Tori hoped that she would be so happy when her time finally came, if her time finally came.
Stella reached the front of the aisle, accepted a kiss from her dad, then joined hands with Bobby. The intro of the song began and for a minute, Tori thought she might miss her cue when her traitorous gaze landed on Mitch. But instinct took over and she sang the lyrics without fail, focusing on a framed family portrait across the room to avoid looking at the guests, particularly the best man.
