The Cowboy Takes A Bride (The Bridal Bid #2)

by Cathleen Galitz

  All these years she had openly resented her mother’s faint-heartedness when it came to fighting for the man she loved. Sitting cross-legged on the living room floor in a pool of light streaming through the window, Caitlin came to a decision. If she didn’t grab at love with both hands when it was offered to her, it was conceivable that she would die a bitter old virgin regretting the day she let fear rule her heart.

  It was time to dry her tears and go after what she wanted.

  Thirteen

  When the drill bit broke later in the day, Grant thought about volunteering part of his anatomy as a replacement. He had been hard for so long that he thought he would explode if he didn’t get some release soon. Hoping to relieve his pent-up frustration, he threw himself into the physical labor required of rig work with a Herculean effort that boded ill for anyone stupid enough to get in his way.

  No one did.

  Considering how Caitlin and Grant had gotten along before the honeymoon, it came as no surprise to anybody on the crew that the boss’s marriage was off to a tempestuous start. When Caitlin showed back up on the drilling floor a couple of hours later bringing her husband a sack lunch, everyone scattered like leaves in the first warning gust of a windstorm. Nobody wanted to be caught in the crossfire of this lovers’ quarrel.

  Grant was in no mood to see Caitlin. If his body would simply cooperate without collapsing, he planned on working straight through the night shift in a concerted effort to avoid any further contact with his wife. Her last display of bridal jitters had him wound as tightly as a cheap watch. One more deft little feminine twist was all it would take for him to snap.

  Hoping Caitlin would get the message, he glared at her as she came sashaying across the floor. The seductive wriggle of her hips had him grinding his teeth in frustration. Like a child baiting a cat with a string, she seemed to take perverse pleasure in dangling her beauty in front of him. The last thing he needed right now was to be reminded of that which was beyond his grasp.

  Hurt by her refusal to accept his wedding ring as anything more than a prop in a comic farce, Grant had spent the better part of the last few hours trying to convince himself that it didn’t matter. That he didn’t give a damn. That years of loneliness had left his heart impervious to such slights. If Aunt Edna’s abuse of both his back and his money hadn’t taught him not to put his trust in women, he hated to think what it would take to make him figure it out. He didn’t like to think of himself as stupid, but that was exactly the right term to apply to anyone who thought for a single minute that the high-and-mighty Caitlin Flynn would ever look at him as anything more than oil field trash.

  Like mother like daughter, Grant thought scornfully to himself.

  Luckily for him, he intended to get out of his “marriage” with his heart and soul intact. Unlike poor Paddy.

  The scowl Grant leveled at her did not deter Caitlin.

  “I knew you’d be hungry so I brought you a little snack,” Caitlin said, presenting her peace offering with a pretty-as-you-please smile pasted on her face. Her tone was so damnably cheery that one might have thought their little altercation earlier had no effect on her whatsoever—had it not been for the telltale puffiness of her eyes that her makeup couldn’t completely cover.

  He peeked into the brown paper bag she was holding as hesitantly as if there might be a live rattlesnake inside. Flashing a rainbow of colors, sunlight bounced off the diamond on Caitlin’s finger. That she was actually wearing it softened his heart toward her. He had always dreamed that a beautiful, loving woman would someday wear his mother’s ring. Of course, Caitlin deserved a bigger diamond to match her fiery nature. Multifaceted to match her many moods and—

  Grant’s fantasy skidded to a halt. What in the name of heaven was he doing daydreaming about airy-fairy tales and castles in the clouds and happily ever afters? Hadn’t Edna beaten such nonsense out of him? He was no more an acceptable groom for such a refined, educated lady as Caitlin than he was a prince on a white charger. The best he could ever hope to offer her would be a mountain ranch that would be a far holler from culture as she knew it.

  And the chances of him getting that ranch were growing slimmer with each passing day. If by some miracle Paddy did pull through, he would be sorely disappointed to find that not only were there no grandchildren on the way, the company he’d spent his life building had gone under in his absence.

  “I hope you like peanut butter,” Caitlin chirped, digging out a sandwich from the bag in her hands. “It was all I could find. If you don’t need me this afternoon, I’d like to go into town and pick up some supplies.”

  I not only need you, I want you—desperately.

  “I’m sure we’ll manage without you,” he replied offhandedly. The truth was the farther away Caitlin stayed from him the better for both of them.

  Choosing to ignore the disdain reflected in those steel blue eyes, she asked, “Is there anything special you’d like me to pick up?”

  Since living in close proximity with a beautiful woman who acted as skittish as an unbroken colt around him was nothing short of agony, Grant had only one suggestion. “Maybe a chain for your bedroom door.”

  Caitlin attempted to fight back the blush that rose to her cheeks with unladylike bluntness. “How about a key to my chastity belt instead?”

  Grant bit back a laugh and wondered exactly how he had been tricked into marrying a crazy woman. First she wound him up like a ten-cent top, then cut him off without an explanation. Now she was offering herself to him as a sacrificial virgin. Go figure.

  It was enough to make any sane man think about committing himself.

  “Save it for someone more gullible than me, honey,” he said shaking his head. “I’m not up for any more of your head games.”

  The next thing Grant knew, he was staring at the world through a blur of peanut butter. Brushing the remains from her hands of the sandwich that she had just smushed into his face, Caitlin turned on her heels and stalked off without saying another word. Despite the peanut butter under her nails, there was nonetheless royal dignity in her bearing.

  Grant smiled a sticky smile. He had succeeded in his intent to make her mad. Mad enough perhaps to rent a motel room in town thus relieving him of the pressure of having to endure a sleepless night with her in the next room. Since avoidance clearly was the best strategy for surviving their charade of a marriage, he couldn’t quite figure out why his stomach was a churning mass of acid at the thought that he may have accomplished his purpose all too well.

  Wiping lunch off his face, he called out after her ramrod straight back. “Thanks for the snack, honey.”

  Caitlin barely slowed down on her way through Lysite. She was shopping for more than food alone, and the tiny wayside community didn’t sport a lingerie shop that she knew of. Unable not to appreciate the irony of her situation, Caitlin considered her plight on the long drive to Riverton, some eighty miles away. All these years she’d been “saving” herself for marriage only to discover that her inexperience was not the advantage her parents had led her to believe.

  If anything it was a detriment. Not only was Grant disinclined to believe she was a virgin, she was clueless about how to go about seducing her own husband.

  Hurt by his determination to keep as far away from her as possible, Caitlin decided feminine intuition alone would have to overcome both of their doubts about committing to a sexual relationship. Perhaps their marriage was doomed from the start, but she had made up her mind not to emerge from it a freak—the oldest wedded virgin in America.

  Remembering the look of appreciation on Grant’s face the night she had fixed a simple soup for dinner, she considered the old adage about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach. Arriving in Riverton ninety minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot of a local grocery store where she embarked upon her shopping spree with all the determination of a general drawing up battle plans. She canvassed each aisle for hearty man-pleasing entries, extravagant desserts, and any
aphrodisiac that caught her eye. A bottle of champagne completed her purchases. She deposited her groceries in the back of her vehicle and proceeded to a nearby clothing store.

  Somehow it seemed to her that the ring on her finger gave her special liberty to linger in the lingerie department. Although Caitlin had indulged in pretty nightgowns, bawdier garments trimmed in black lace and dripping with garters always made her feel uncomfortable. Today she surveyed all the clothing racks with an eye to what her husband might like. Would he prefer her in virginal white? Should she go with the satin midlength in deep royal blue? The sleek Chinese pant set with matching frogs? Or the shocking red teddy that left so little to the imagination?

  He’d probably burst into laughter if she came flouncing into his bedroom wearing such a blatantly sexy outfit. The thought propelled Caitlin to put the flimsy teddy back on the rack. If her limited feminine wiles were to be put to the test, she decided it would be best if she did it wearing something that made her feel elegant and alluring rather than simply cheap.

  A floor-length gown of diaphanous white made her catch her breath. Except for a few strategically placed satin appliqués, it was all but transparent. Delicate pearl buttons laced all the way up a lacy Victorian collar. Running her fingertips over its satin roses, she felt a feminine twinge deep inside her. Such a flagrantly feminine gown could almost make up for the lack of the white wedding dress she had always dreamed of. She found one in her size and self-consciously set it on the counter.

  “Your husband will love this,” the saleslady assured her with a conspiratorial wink.

  Caitlin ventured a rueful smile of her own as she stared hard at the ring on her finger.

  “I’m going to be awfully disappointed if he doesn’t,” she admitted.

  Legally Grant was her husband, and he was undoubtedly the sexiest man she had ever encountered. The thought of seducing him made her blood pump in hot, excited spurts. As the saleswoman rang up her purchase, Caitlin reached for a bottle of perfume, sprayed a dab upon her wrists, and pushed it across the counter.

  “Charge this, too,” Caitlin said with a smile that fit too tightly across her teeth.

  The outrageous cost of her purchases did not discourage her. Price was no object to a woman on a mission.

  Grant checked the skyline for what must have been the hundredth time since Caitlin had driven away. It was getting mighty late. Where could she be? Visions of her vehicle breaking down on the side of the road, leaving her at the mercy of unsavory passersby, raced through his mind. Didn’t she know that he would worry if she didn’t get back before dark?

  Ever since she left, Grant had been regretting his hasty words. When she had alluded to the state of her virginity, he had dismissed her claims as being outrageous. He couldn’t imagine anyone as lovely as Caitlin surviving high school let alone his idea of the swinging college scene untouched. That he may have misjudged her troubled him deeply. Was it possible that was why she acted so uneasy around him? Not because she found him beneath her, but because she was unsure of herself when it came to her own sexuality? The very thought boggled his mind.

  When her Jeep finally pulled into the lot below shortly after dusk, it was all Grant could do to keep from rushing down the rig stairs and wrapping her up in a great big bear hug. Ego, however, kept him rooted to the spot. Once his heartbeat slowed down to a normal range, he planned on talking to her about taking better driving precautions in the wide, open spaces of Wyoming.

  As mad as Caitlin had been when she’d stormed off earlier, Grant was astonished to see her look up to the drilling floor, deliberately seek him out, and toss a friendly wave in his direction.

  His guts tightened at the mere sight of her. Apparently his lovely wife’s shopping spree hadn’t been confined to groceries alone. Grant hoped she had alerted the authorities before purchasing the tight-fitting striped jeans and matching knit top that she was wearing. Anything that looked that good from a distance ought to be illegal.

  “I’m home, honey,” she called up to him in a candied voice.

  Oh, what Grant would have given to have wiped that sarcastic grin right off that pretty face with a kiss intended to put her in her place once and for all!

  As he stepped through the trailer door a short while later, Grant did a double take as if to make sure certain that he hadn’t accidentally stepped into the Twilight Zone. The smells that assailed him were almost as mouthwatering as the sight of Caitlin herself bent over the stove in earnest concentration. The thought of walking up quietly behind her and enveloping her in his arms was more appealing than he liked admitting to himself.

  Such was the kind of cozy kitchen scene he’d grown up with. Good food and a loving atmosphere had taken the sting out of poverty. In fact, he hadn’t even known how poor his family had been until Aunt Edna hammered the point home by making certain her nephew felt beholden to her for taking in such a destitute relative.

  The aroma of pork chops simmering in gravy made Grant’s stomach growl. To a man who had cleaned lunch off his face earlier in the day, nothing could have been more filling or satisfying than a hearty meat-and-potatoes dinner. He blinked to see his wobbly little kitchenette table covered with a fancy tablecloth and bathed in candlelight.

  “Are we expecting company?” he asked warily. After the peanut butter episode, he was expecting something more akin to all-out war than a peace treaty.

  Caught off guard by his sudden presence, Caitlin jumped at the sound of his voice and burned herself on the edge of a hot skillet.

  She stuck her fingers in her mouth and mumbled, “No company.”

  Grant was beside her in an instant.

  “Let me see that,” he insisted, taking her hand into his and inspecting the damage. Gratified to see that it was but a superficial burn, he nonetheless ordered her to the kitchen sink where he proceeded to run cold tap water over her fingertips.

  “It’s nothing,” she insisted.

  “Maybe, but just to be safe let’s put a bandage on it anyway.”

  The diamond on her hand sparkled beneath the cool flow of water all the while her blood boiled beneath the warmth of her husband’s concern. Caitlin meekly endured his fussing, feeling rather like a clumsy child who longed to ask her daddy to kiss her boo-boo and make it better.

  “There—you’re going to be just fine,” Grant assured her.

  But looking into those emerald eyes glistening with unmistakable feminine interest, he wasn’t so sure about his own well-being. Unable to shake the feeling that he was being set up for disappointment again, he released Caitlin’s hand and gestured toward the table.

  “What’s the occasion?” he asked.

  “Can’t I do something nice without you suspecting an ulterior motive?” she asked, looking so indignant and domestic in an apron that it caused Grant to throw up his hands in surrender.

  “Good point.”

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she remarked.

  “I am,” Grant replied meaningfully. For you!

  Caitlin couldn’t miss the embers of desire glowing in the depths of his penetrating blue gaze. The moment stretched between them humming with the strain of unsatisfied appetites. They were standing so close to one another that when Grant breathed deeply he filled his lungs with the sensual scent Caitlin was wearing.

  “It smells good,” Grant ventured.

  “I hope it tastes good too.”

  “I’m sure it does.”

  Those innocent words hung between them like ripe fruit. Suddenly Grant understood exactly how Adam must have felt when Eve offered him that apple.

  “I’ll just go wash up,” he volunteered. Despite his brain’s mandate, his feet appeared to be sunk in cement.

  The smile Caitlin flashed at him was warm enough to keep their meal hot for hours while Grant did what he really wanted to. His fingers itched to untie the straps of that inexplicably sexy apron, reach for the snap of her jeans, and—

  Grant forced himself to remember that Caitlin was offer
ing nothing more than dinner. The “come hither” look in her eyes was probably only the combination of his overactive imagination upon a starving libido. Less than twenty-four hours ago, she had rejected him outright. Only an idiot would read more into the pleasant reception she was giving him this evening. Whether his body agreed or not, it was time to get those wild fantasies he’d been nursing under control pronto.

  “In fact, I think I’ll get in a quick shower,” Grant amended. An icy cold one!

  An image of silver rivulets of water streaming down his naked body flashed through Caitlin’s mind. Hiding her trembling hands in the pockets of her apron, she tried donning the look of an unflustered housewife.

  “Fine, that’ll give me time to finish setting the table.”

  Proud of how even her voice sounded, Caitlin turned back to her handiwork bubbling on the stove. Just as determined to serve a perfect meal as she was intent upon sending out all the right signals this evening, Caitlin reminded herself that there would be no turning back for her now.

  Love was not for the faint of heart.

  The sound of the shower starting in the other room provided her an opportunity to pop the top of the bottle of champagne she’d purchased in town. She regretted the fact that she hadn’t thought to buy nice goblets for the occasion as she poured two plastic tumblers full. Bolstering herself with a couple of sips from her own glass, she set the bottle out to breathe.

  By the time Grant took his place at the table, Caitlin was feeling a teensy bit bubbly herself.

  “Did I hear a gunshot while I was in the shower?” he asked with a puzzled look upon his face.

  Giggling, Caitlin pointed out the culprit—the bottle of champagne nestled in a makeshift ice bucket that she had fashioned from an empty coffee can. Her explanation only caused the lines of confusion on Grant’s face to deepen. Why had she gone to such trouble to please him? He doubted whether a Ph.D. could figure out this woman’s crazy mood swings. He cut into his pork chop, speared a piece with his fork, lifted it to his mouth, and closed his eyes in pleasure. The meat was so tender that chewing was almost optional.