The Wedding Plan

by Abby Gaines

  “I thought Lucas organized it,” Merry snapped. “As a grand, romantic gesture.”

  “Honeybun, you know I hate Lassie,” Lucas said. Now that she’d implied the basis of their marriage had changed, he sounded laconic, supremely confident.

  “Which would have made it all the more impressive if you’d done it for me,” she snapped. “You said you were going to woo me.”

  Patrick issued a choked protest.

  “I have been wooing you,” Lucas said. “I’ve talked so much, I’ve just about lost my voice.”

  “This is wooing.” She flung her arm wide to encompass the concept of the private movie screening…and managed to catch Patrick’s champagne glass. Champagne sloshed over the sides onto his shoes.

  “If you two want to have a marital spat,” Patrick said sourly, “perhaps you could do it somewhere other than the theater I spent a small fortune hiring.”

  “Patrick, I’m sorry,” Merry said.

  And then there was nothing left to say. A minute later, she walked down the stairs—with Lucas—and out onto the street.

  A streetlamp bathed her dad’s old pickup truck in light. A far cry from the comfort of the cab she’d arrived in.

  And yet, despite Patrick’s attention to detail, she’d been so disappointed to see him, to realize he was the one behind the most romantic surprise she could have imagined.

  Lucas opened her door for her, then got in the other side.

  “For the record,” he said, “you look great. That dress is fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” She pulled her seat belt out and clipped it in place.

  “So what Patrick just did, that’s your idea of wooing?” he said. “Champagne and a sappy movie?”

  “Patrick was doing something for me that he wouldn’t have done for anyone else.”

  “Because no one else would be turned on by a Lassie extravaganza,” he said, starting the engine.

  “You need to raise your game, Lucas,” she said.

  * * *

  LUCAS MADE MERRY’S COFFEE THE next morning, as usual, even though she’d made it plain how little value she gave that kind of gesture in the wooing stakes.

  You need to raise your game. He muttered a curse as he ran along the seafront promenade, Boo alongside him.

  “Nothing wrong with my game,” he said to the dog.

  Boo slowed down, looking for a comfort stop. Lucas headed for a grass strip on the other side of the street.

  “Go ahead,” he told him. He paced the grass in an attempt to keep his muscles warm while the canine squatted, straining but not achieving.

  “You know what your big mistake was?” he asked Boo. “You got too close to your owner. Then you couldn’t stop her dying, and now you’re a loner who can’t crap.”

  Lucas’s cell phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket.

  “Calder, this is Admiral Tremaine.”

  Lucas came to attention. “Good morning, sir.”

  “I’ve been thinking about our discussion,” the man said. “I agree, you should get a resit. And I intend to make it happen.”

  “Thank you, sir. That’s excellent news.” Given his preoccupation with Merry’s unreasonable attitude, he didn’t sound as pleased as he should. “That’s great,” he added with more enthusiasm.

  The admiral chuckled. “Thought you’d be pleased. You deserve it, Calder. The navy needs more men—more people,” he corrected hastily, “like you. We should be trying to keep you, not tossing you overboard on the basis of a wonky eye test.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You need to call Dr. Ziegler at Groton,” Tremaine said. “I spoke to her yesterday, and she’ll be doing your test. I’ll have the paperwork squared away by then.”

  So it was definite. Great. If I pass the test, I’ll leave New London. Leave Merry. And the baby.

  “I’ll call the doctor, sir.” Next week. Maybe the week after. Now wasn’t great timing, not at this sensitive point of negotiations with his wife.

  “See that you do,” the admiral said. “She’s on vacation after the first week in December, so you’ll need to do it by then.”

  Only a couple of weeks away. Had his depth perception improved sufficiently? Lucas wasn’t sure.

  “That’s great, sir.” Definitely on the hollow side. Lucas thanked the admiral again and ended the call.

  Okay, he had ten days to get his depth perception up to standard. The retest was what he’d come to New London for. After all this effort, he couldn’t blow it. He would put every spare minute into practicing.

  If he passed, everything would change with Merry—for the worse. The best time to convince her to give their marriage a chance was now, before he got his job back.

  He had the same two weeks to convince Merry their marriage should be real.

  The rate he was going, he wouldn’t achieve that in ten years. He did need to raise his game.

  I need a plan.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “YOUR BABY IS DUE JULY 17,” the obstetrician said. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” Merry beamed at him.

  “Fantastic,” Lucas said.

  They’d known she was pregnant, but something about having a date…

  “Hop up here,” Dr. Fellowes said, “and we’ll do the sonogram.”

  Merry lay on the bed while the doctor smeared a jellylike substance on her lower abdomen. He ran the ultrasound wand over it, pressing down firmly.

  Merry watched the screen, and what looked like a bad static storm, intently.

  “There we go,” he said.

  On the screen a jellybean-shaped patch of black appeared among the snow. “The gestational sac,” the doctor murmured. He adjusted something, then moved the wand slowly. “There.”

  Inside the jellybean was an oblong of static. “Your baby,” Dr. Fellowes said, with a hint of showmanship. He moved the wand to find a flicker of light. “And that’s the heartbeat.”

  There was nothing to see…and yet there was everything. Merry’s throat tightened. She was dimly aware that Lucas had grabbed her hand and was squeezing hard.

  The doctor took some measurements on the screen. “All looking good,” he announced. “How are you feeling, Merry? You’re paler than the last time I saw you.”

  Probably because she was exhausted. Beyond the normal pregnancy fatigue, trying to figure out the best future for her baby, and exactly what role Lucas should play in both their lives, was draining. Even more so because a week after he’d been shown up by Patrick in the romance stakes, his efforts to woo her were still off the radar. He’d been preoccupied, away from home a lot.

  Stephanie had told her he’d visited at least twice, and was spending time with Mia. He hadn’t mentioned that to Merry, so she could only assume his commitment to his baby sister was genuine, not just an attempt to impress her.

  Which was good. But what about me?

  “Lucas, you might want to see if you can find ways to help out, maybe ease Merry’s tiredness?” the doctor asked.

  Lucas looked oddly hesitant. “We’re having a night out of town tomorrow,” he said.

  “Since when?” Merry asked.

  “It was going to be a surprise. We’re staying at the Pelican Inn in Old Saybrook.”

  “The Pelican Inn,” Merry breathed.

  “Very nice,” the doctor said.

  It was more than very nice. “Lucas, that’s where Dad took my mom on their honeymoon.”

  “You don’t say,” he replied drily.

  “That’s why you chose it?” She’d heard so much about the historic inn from her dad, and had always longed to go.

  “Romantic enough for you?” Lucas asked.

  The question was casual, but she sensed he cared about the answer.

  “It’s perfect,” she said. Taking her to the place where her parents’ marriage had started was exactly what she was looking for. The kind of thing a man who loved her might do.

  * * *

  LUCAS SET D
OWN HIS AND MERRY’S overnight bag in front of the reception desk at the Pelican Inn.

  The hotel clerk leaned over the counter to look at Boo. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. Calder,” she said.

  “That’s right.” Lucas put his credit card on the marble surface. Merry didn’t like to leave Boo alone at night because he supposedly “had nightmares.” The fact that the inn was dog-friendly was a good omen, Lucas figured.

  The woman began the check-in process. “I have you in the honeymoon suite.” She swiped Lucas’s card. “Your private dinner will be served at seven o’clock on your terrace.”

  “Excellent,” he said. Merry wouldn’t be able to accuse him of not going all out on the romance front. He had everything planned…except how to tell her he had an eye test next week and might be shipping out. But he expected to have a plan for that soon.

  The receptionist handed over an old-fashioned key. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Calder.”

  “Suite” was an exaggeration when it came to their first-floor room. The king-size bed, with a ridiculous number of cushions piled on the snowy pillows, took up a fair chunk of the space.

  Merry stopped just inside the doorway. It was obvious she hadn’t considered the sleeping arrangements.

  Lucas hadn’t thought about much else.

  “There’s a sofa bed over there,” he said, pointing.

  On the far side of the bed, in front of the French doors to the terrace, was a couch in an expensive-looking striped fabric. “I thought I’d give you the choice as to whether we share a bed or not,” he said. “Just to sleep, of course.”

  He couldn’t see the point of sleeping separately. When they’d agreed to look hard at their marriage and see if it could work in the long term. The ability to share a bed was a big part of that.

  He hoped she’d view things his way.

  “Okay,” she said. Which wasn’t an answer.

  Merry unzipped her bag. She pulled out a book and a toiletry bag and set them on the nightstand. Next, a ziplock bag of dog food and a bowl. Boo licked his lips. “Too early, boy,” she said. She bent over to slip his provisions into the space at the bottom of the nightstand. Her jeans tightened across her shapely butt.

  The clock radio on the nightstand showed 4:00 p.m. Three hours until dinner.

  Merry was looking at the clock, too. “I’ll take Boo for a walk, in case he needs to go.”

  “He always needs to go,” Lucas said.

  “You never know when the dam will break,” she said.

  Lucas winced at the resulting image. She grinned as she clipped the leash back onto Boo’s collar. “I may be a while.”

  “I need to do some eye exercises,” Lucas said. “Take your time.”

  The minutes passed with frustrating slowness. He had brought several Magic Eye books with him—more out of desperation than hope they would do any good—plus his laptop. At least with the online tests, he was improving bit by bit. But he had no idea if he could pass the navy’s eye exam.

  He was concentrating so hard he barely noticed Merry’s return. She read for a while, then showered. She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and told him he needed to stop work and get cleaned up. So he did.

  She was out on the terrace, admiring the view, when Lucas joined her. The inn staff had left a bottle of champagne and one of sparkling water in the ice bucket next to the candlelit table. They’d gone all out: white cloth, gleaming silverware, crystal, the works.

  He poured their respective drinks, then raised his in a toast. “To your parents. And the memory of your mom.”

  Merry clinked her glass against his. “Thanks,” she said softly. She sipped her water, drawing his attention to her mouth. Again.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  She wore the same slinky red dress she’d bought for her big date with Patrick the other night. She thought that date was with me, he reminded himself.

  A waiter arrived with their appetizer, some kind of smoked salmon dish. Merry sat down. Lucas took the chair opposite, while Boo parked himself next to him, head on his paws.

  Beyond the terrace, the sea was purple-blue in the dusk. Scattered clouds floated across the fading sky, ringed with the glow of the setting sun.

  “How did your eye exercises go?” Merry asked.

  “Not worth the paper they’re printed on,” he grumbled. This could be an opportunity to tell her he had a resit arranged. Too soon.

  “This salmon is great,” he said, tasting a mouthful.

  “This is certainly an improvement on our other dates,” she joked. “A step up from Pete’s.”

  “Hey, I took you to Pete’s because it was the coolest place in town,” Lucas said. “Besides, expensive dates were wasted on you. Remember Date Number Six?”

  “The French restaurant,” she said appreciatively. “That was good.”

  “That was annoying,” he corrected. Lucas had settled the bill for their dinner while she was in the bathroom. She’d meticulously counted out her share and stuffed it in his jacket pocket when he wouldn’t take it. “For a woman who wants to be wooed, you’re no good at accepting wooing when it comes your way.”

  “You wanted to pay because you thought it was the right thing to do. Not because you thought I was worth every last penny.”

  “Of course you were.” He ate some more salmon.

  She grinned. “Liar. We both know those dates happened because our dads wanted them to.”

  “That’s why you wouldn’t let me pay? Because you didn’t like my motives?”

  “Yep.” Merry dredged some salmon through a pool of dill dressing. “But I plan to let you pay for tonight.”

  Which in her book was some weird vote of confidence.

  “Thanks,” Lucas said, and meant it. He drank some champagne. “You know, Merry, those dates might have been our dads’ idea, but it’s not like I dreaded them or anything.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest, drawing his attention to her curves. “Be still my heart.”

  “I even looked forward to seeing you each year,” he said generously.

  “Yeah, right,” she said.

  “Admittedly, that usually only lasted about half an hour, until you drove me nuts. But you are one of my oldest friends, Merry.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. “Funny, I had the impression that for most of our childhood you tolerated me, but didn’t particularly like me.”

  “Why would you say that?” He set down his glass. “Of course I liked you. And still do.” But her saying that cast a new light on some of their past arguments. “What did I do,” he said curiously, “that made you decide you would never play the game my way? You’d never let me rescue you, you’d never need me. What did I do to ensure that you would never trust me, not even in a game, let alone in real life?” He hadn’t planned to ask that. Was surprised that he had. But now, he wanted to know the answer.

  She opened her mouth. Closed it again. “Of course I trust you. I’d trust you with my life.”

  “So what was the problem?” he asked.

  “What we had was never friendship,” she said. “Friends do things together.”

  “Exactly,” he replied. “I spent more time with you than with any other single person.”

  “Those games we played as kids,” she said, “always involved me being held captive somewhere, and you charging in to be the hero. They were never about the two of us trekking through enemy territory, fighting danger together.”

  “So what?” He had no idea what she meant. Besides, she’d always managed to change the agenda in their games, anyway.

  “You’re not about the shared journey, Lucas. You’re about swooping in, saving the day, then swooping out.”

  “Someone has to save the day,” he said, confused. “Why shouldn’t it be me?”

  “Maybe you would have saved it better if you’d had some help,” she said. “My help.”

  “Okay, this is way too deep for me.” They were talking about imaginary crises,
for Pete’s sake.

  “Your depth perception issues,” she murmured.

  He snorted. “Seems to me you’re the one with issues. I really valued you as a friend—I wanted to marry you when I was ten, remember? Even though you were the biggest pain in the butt I knew, I kept coming back for more.”

  “Wanting to marry me lasted exactly one day, as you pointed out,” she said.

  “You really think I hung out with you all those years because I had no other choice? That I had no other friends?”

  She knew damn well he’d been one of the popular kids, though that had never mattered to him.

  “I guess not.” She sounded uncertain.

  “All those years, you never truly believed I was your friend,” he said with disgust. “And you’re determined not to believe that I care for you now.”

  “It’s not that…”

  But the way she fidgeted with her water glass told Lucas it was that. He’d forced her to confront her own attitude and now she was rattled. Good.

  Before Lucas could press his case, the waiter appeared with their next course: filet mignon, cooked perfectly, medium rare. A baked apricot cheesecake followed. Throughout the rest of the meal, the conversation stayed on safe topics. Merry was an expert at keeping it that way.

  It was only nine-thirty when they finished dinner, but she was visibly exhausted. “I’m pretty tired,” she said. “I think I’ll get to bed.” She nudged Boo with her shoe. “Up, boy. Time for your constitutional.”

  “I’ll take him,” Lucas offered.

  “Thanks.”

  They walked back into the room through the French doors.

  That king-size bed beckoned. This was the moment of truth.

  “What did you decide about the sleeping arrangements?” Lucas kept the words innocuous, his tone casual. She clasped her hands behind her head and stretched. It had the effect of pushing out her breasts. She looked from him to the bed.

  He held his breath. Pick me. Pick me.

  “I’d rather we had separate beds,” she said.

  Disappointment gushed through him. It must have shown, because she said, “Look what happened the last time we slept together.” She put a hand to her stomach, and he thought of the sonogram, of that tiny heartbeat.