Married at Midnight

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Married at Midnight Page 7

by Gerri Russell


  “I hope your dad didn’t hurt your feelings with the comment about the cruise,” her mom finally said. “We’re both just so happy for you to finally have found someone.”

  Ellie sighed. “I’m not trying to be alone, Mom. I just haven’t found anyone . . .”

  At her mother’s quizzical look, she amended, “Until Connor.”

  Her mom stopped walking. “I’m happy to hear that. Almost as happy as I am to learn about the baby.”

  “The baby?” Ellie felt as if she were suddenly falling and there was no one there to catch her.

  “Well, of course. Why else would you go to Las Vegas and come home married?”

  Feeling off balance, Ellie drew a shaky breath. “I’m not pregnant.” At least she hoped she wasn’t. She didn’t even know if they’d had sex! “We’ve only been married a few days. Why on earth would you think I was pregnant?”

  Her mom’s eyes twinkled. “A mom knows these things.”

  A nervous laugh filled the space between them. “In this case you’re wrong, so very, very wrong.”

  She took Ellie’s hands and suddenly regarded her with a slightly suspicious air. “Is everything okay?”

  Ellie forced a smile to her lips. Part of her wanted to confess right then and there that her marriage to Connor wasn’t real before her parents became too invested in finally having the son they’d always wanted, but she forced that desire down deep inside. “Everything’s fine, Mom. It couldn’t be better.”

  Fine.

  One word that held infinite meanings.

  Connor watched as Ellie and her mother strolled past the back windows while he and her father finished tying the pink fly they would use this weekend on their fly-fishing adventure. James continued to talk about where they would go and what they would do. All Connor could think about was the pained look in Ellie’s eyes when her parents had welcomed him without hesitation. In the past two days he’d figured out why Ellie had reacted so badly to his missing the prom. It wasn’t that he hadn’t shown up. It was that he’d been one more person to set her feelings aside and treat her as if she weren’t important. He’d known about her issues with her family back then, yet he’d done exactly the same thing to her.

  And today, when tears threatened to push past her facade of strength, he’d almost dropped to his knees. In that moment, he knew he had to do something to equalize the situation—to give her a long-overdue apology.

  Suddenly James stopped talking. “Do you love her?” he asked, following the path of Connor’s gaze.

  Love her? I did once. Do I love her still? Connor frowned. “How can you ask that?” he replied, avoiding the question. Her dad’s eyes were watchful, perhaps too watchful, as Connor shifted his gaze to the floor. “I married your daughter and intend to honor that commitment as long as she’ll have me.” The words were true enough, and they must have satisfied James because he thumped Connor on the back in a gesture of bonding.

  “Be good to my little girl. Besides her mother, she’s all I have.”

  “I will,” Connor replied with sincerity. “Ellie’s a special person. She always has been.”

  James nodded. “I’m glad you recognize that.” He pushed away from the hobby table. “Follow me. Julie and I have a wedding present for the two of you. It’s a Hawthorne family tradition.”

  Connor followed him down the hallway to the living room, uncertain what to expect.

  The older man stopped before a grandfather clock. “This clock has been in our family for six generations. It came to this country with my ancestors from England. It’s been handed down from Hawthorne male to Hawthorne male.” He shrugged. “Since I have no sons, it goes to Ellie . . . and to you.”

  They’d only been married for two days, and they were already getting bogged down in family traditions and lies. When he’d asked Ellie to stay married to him for Viola’s sake, he hadn’t considered all the people who might be hurt in the aftermath of their charade.

  “Thank you for this very generous gift, James. How about we leave the clock right here until Ellie and I are more settled?”

  “Not a chance,” he protested. “Not only is this clock a tradition—it’s good luck to the marriage of those who own it. There’s never been a divorce in our family for the past six generations or more. This clock is the reason why. You must take it with you right now.”

  “I doubt it will fit in my car,” Connor said, cringing at the man’s words. James might like him now, but the man would hate him when all this was over. The darn clock and its good luck would be broken. All because of him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The next morning, Ellie frowned at the grandfather clock Connor and her father had deposited in the foyer of Grayson House last night. She’d always hated the heirloom.

  “Too bad our family tradition ends here with you, daughter.” Her father had sighed with regret many times in front of the clock.

  At first she’d tried to persuade her father that since they were of English descent, and because England could recognize a female queen, he should accept a female heir.

  That argument had gone nowhere, and over the years, she was reduced to simply rolling her eyes and proclaiming that both she and the clock were innocents in all this. That was until one day when she looked closely at the face of the clock and saw not an ordinary clock face, but the face of an old man.

  No wonder the Hawthorne males loved the clock so much. He was one of them.

  Old Man Hawthorne stared at her now as he had the residents of whatever house he’d occupied over the centuries, judging them, warning them not to make a false step in any Hawthorne marriage. The steady ticking of the old clock could easily be accompanied by a wagging finger of warning.

  Ellie narrowed her gaze, trying to warn the old man in return. “You don’t belong here in this house, especially if you’re going to see too much. So keep that frown to yourself or you’ll find yourself on the front lawn. Got it?”

  The old man continued to frown.

  Ellie groaned. “Okay, fine. I can’t move you by myself, but you don’t have to watch us.” With a sudden, satisfied grin, she cast an old sheet up and over the crown, covering the clock. If her parents asked her why she’d covered their wedding gift, she’d simply explain she was keeping the antique safe from all the construction at the house.

  The day passed quickly as she and Connor worked side by side, cleaning the upper floors and meeting with contractors. The bids for the roof, new siding and windows, and painting would come in tomorrow. Until then, they had plenty to do themselves. With the rest of her day, Ellie set about stripping the foyer of its old wallpaper.

  Methodically she mixed up then spread the remover solvent across the aging paper. By the time she made her way around the front room, it was time to start peeling the paper off. Scraper in hand, she started at the top. Since most of the decorative covering had started falling off on its own, it took little effort to convince the rest to follow.

  The most difficult part was moving the double ladder along the wall. Trying to save time, instead of getting down and moving the ladder, Ellie leaned out, struggling to reach the next row of paper.

  Too late she recognized her mistake when the ladder wobbled and pitched away from her. With nothing to support her, she reached out and grabbed the only thing she could, the cloth covering the clock. The sheet slithered to the floor, doing nothing to break her fall. She fell . . . right into Connor’s arms.

  Ellie shrieked at the unexpected rescue. Strength wrapped around her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He held her close to his chest. “It’s not every day I get to rescue a damsel in distress.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “I wasn’t distressed, just stupid.” While she might not like the idea of being rescued, she did appreciate the way his arms cradled her as though she was precious and worth saving.

  Time seemed to stand still as they stared into each other’s eyes. There was something different in his expression—som
ething she couldn’t name. Warmth flamed inside her.

  “I’ve got to go,” Ellie said, breaking the moment.

  “Can I ask you something?” Connor asked at the same time. He lowered her to the ground. When she was stable on her feet, he released her. “Where are you going?”

  “You wanted to ask me something?” Again they spoke at the same time.

  He reached for her, settled his hands on her waist, and simply held her. “We’ve gone about this whole thing wrong. We might be legally married, but we skipped every step in a relationship to get there.”

  “What are you saying?” Ellie asked, not sure if she was frightened or excited at where this conversation might lead.

  “It’s what I’m asking you,” he clarified. “Let me make amends for my misdeeds in the past. Will you go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

  She startled. Although it had been obvious he was interested in her, it had taken Connor five months to ask her out when they were in high school. Things were definitely improving with their timing. “You’re ready to put the past behind us?”

  “It’s time, don’t you think?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. It’s a date then. Leave everything to me.” He bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then released her. “Where did you say you were headed?”

  “My friends Jordan, Olivia, and I meet every Tuesday night. It’s kind of a tradition.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You and yours have lots of traditions.”

  Her gaze strayed to the clock. She turned her back on the face of the old man still frowning there. “Some are better than others.”

  “Have fun. I’m going to head into my lab on the university campus while you’re gone. We’re finalizing the final stages of the new computer system. I don’t want to leave the engineering to anyone else,” he said, leaving her alone in the foyer with the grandfather clock.

  Ellie glanced up at the timepiece once more, and her breath caught. Was it her imagination, or did the corner of the old man’s mouth bend up in a smile?

  Ellie stood outside The Lucky Club forty minutes later. Fat, cold drops of rain fell from the sky as wind swirled around her feet. Without an umbrella to shield her, water slithered down her face and onto her neck, but she wasn’t ready to go inside yet.

  Jordan would have told Olivia that she was married. The fingers of her right hand moved over to her left, twisting the diamond ring Connor had given her around and around. She’d attempted to take the ring off before coming tonight, but she found she didn’t have the will to slip it off her finger. It was important to her to honor the agreement she and Connor had made.

  Dropping her hands to her sides, she pushed forward through the arched doorway and into the noisy bar. Her friends would expect to hear all about her trip to Las Vegas and the strange turn her life had taken there. She drew in a fortifying breath and moved toward their usual table in the back.

  Olivia and Jordan were already there. Olivia waved to her, spotting her the moment she entered the room. Olivia looked so much more at ease since she and Max had married. Instead of her brunette hair coiled up at the back of her head, she’d left her wavy locks free to fall across her shoulders and down her back. “Hey, you,” Olivia greeted her with a smile.

  Ellie slid into a chair opposite her two friends. “What a weekend,” she said.

  “I’m dying to hear how the two of you hooked up,” Jordan said, taking a sip of her champagne.

  “Congratulations.” Olivia’s dark eyes glittered with happiness. “Jordan told me your news. We’re having an impromptu bridal shower tonight. We brought you presents.” Two packages were stacked in the center of the table, wrapped in silver-and-gold paper.

  Ellie frowned. “Presents for me?”

  “Of course,” Olivia said. “It’s not every day one of our friends gets married.”

  Ellie fingered her wedding ring again, suddenly unsure about boasting to her friends that she was only in this thing for the short haul, not forever.

  “Forget the presents,” Jordan said, pushing a waiting glass of pink champagne Ellie’s way. With her pale skin, short black hair, and green eyes, Jordan’s Irish heritage was undeniable. Her fiery temper was just as fierce. “Why on earth did you marry Connor Grayson? Tell us every detail.”

  Ellie reached for her champagne and took a long drink in an effort to ease a sudden tightness in her throat. She set the drink down, and still she hesitated.

  These two women were her best friends. In the past, they’d told one another everything. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust them with the truth now. It was that she didn’t trust her own response when she told them. She struggled not to close her eyes and let herself remember the feeling of being in Connor’s arms. She’d forgotten how gentle he was—forgotten how he could make her feel protected and breathless at the same moment.

  She drew a tight breath and forced the memory away. “We met in Las Vegas. The details are a little fuzzy.”

  Olivia frowned. “What would make the memory fuzzy?”

  “You were drunk, weren’t you?” Jordan sat back in her chair with a measuring smile.

  “A little.” Ellie admitted the partial truth with a wince.

  “Ha!” Jordan exclaimed.

  “Ignore Jordan. I’m sure it was magical,” Olivia replied with a warning glance at Jordan. “How could your wedding be anything but an event?”

  Pressing her lips together, Ellie dug into her purse and pulled out the one picture she’d kept from those the Elvises had brought to their room the morning after. She held it out to Olivia and Jordan. “Not that I remember much, but this proves it wasn’t exactly the wedding I’d always dreamed of.”

  A crack of laughter escaped Jordan. “You got married by Elvis?”

  Ellie nodded. “In the Chapel of Burning Love with three other Elvis impersonators as our attendants.”

  “For you, the wedding planner, to be married by Elvis impersonators.” Jordan snorted. “That’s hysterical.”

  “I’m an event planner,” Ellie corrected. Why did everyone always get that wrong?

  Olivia frowned, studying the picture. She looked off into the distance, then returned her gaze to Ellie. “How many Elvises were there?”

  “Four. Why?”

  Oliva set the picture on the table in front of Ellie. “It’s nothing. I’m probably imagining things that aren’t there.”

  Ellie’s frown deepened as she turned in the direction Olivia had indicated. Four men sat at a table across the room, their heads buried in the newspaper. From what she could see, they looked nothing like the men they’d met in Las Vegas . . . but, then again, they’d been in costume.

  Still, the chances of the same four men being in Seattle were slim to none. Ellie turned back to her friends with a sigh. “It’s been the weirdest week of my life. I’m married and living in and working on Connor’s grandmother’s house. It’s my first-ever design job.”

  Olivia’s brows came together. “His grandmother hired you?”

  She nodded. “Plus, I’ll be able to fund my Birthday Project through June of next year. I can’t wait for you both to see Grayson House. It has so much potential and deserves to be restored to its old glory. Every time I walk through a room, I see so many possibilities.”

  “That’s terrific, Ellie. Sounds like you really love the old place. What will you be doing?” Olivia asked.

  “I’ve broken the job down into three stages. The first stage will be renovations to the exterior of the house. The second will be remodeling the interior. And, finally, the part I love, staging the event decorations.”

  “What event?” Jordan asked.

  “The Holiday Street of Dreams at the end of November.”

  “Oh, Ellie,” Olivia said. “What a great job for you to showcase your talent. This could be the big break you’ve been needing.”

  Jordan studied Ellie. “You still haven’t told us why you married Connor after how he treated you back in high school. And don
’t tell me he’s changed.”

  Flustered by Jordan’s question, Ellie took another sip of her champagne before setting her glass down. “Honestly, I don’t know. I was shocked to find him in my bed the morning after. Neither of us remember all the details, but obviously we had some chemistry that night that made us do all kinds of crazy things.”

  Jordan tilted her head. “Like have sex?”

  Ellie’s cheeks flamed. She wasn’t certain if she was more embarrassed that she didn’t remember if they’d had sex, or if they hadn’t had it at all. “I don’t know.”

  Olivia’s eyes rounded.

  “Interesting,” Jordan said as she pushed one of the presents on the table toward Ellie. “From me. Open it.”

  Relieved to have something else to focus on besides her mistakes, Ellie pulled the gold ribbon of the small rectangular box, then unwrapped the paper and opened it. She frowned down at the metal object inside. “Why would you give me handcuffs?”

  Jordan’s gaze was direct. “You did marry Connor Grayson. I figured handcuffing him to the bed might be one way to keep him by your side.”

  Ellie’s breath hitched. “If he stays at the house with me, it’ll be because he wants to be there, not because I forced him.”

  “That’s a shame,” Jordan said, “because he’s even more handsome now than he was in high school.”

  “I agree,” Olivia chimed in. “I met Connor a few months back. He has the most amazing eyes.”

  “I admit it—he’s handsome, but can we please be serious?” Ellie groaned.

  “The reality of the situation is that you’re married. So what if you’re not fully aware of all the details? Obviously, there’s attraction between you two. Build on that.” Olivia’s hands moved to her own slightly rounded abdomen. She was three months along and had switched her Tuesday-night drink to seltzer water with a twist of lime in a champagne flute.

  Ellie couldn’t hold back a pang of jealousy over what Olivia had found: love, marriage, and a family. Her friend deserved them all.

  “Open my present,” Olivia encouraged, sliding the remaining gift in front of Ellie.

 

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