Finally A Bride

by Renee Ryan

  She wasn’t the only one, he thought. Still, the widow hadn’t amassed a large fortune by giving up in the face of opposition. That made her a formidable foe, and left them with few options. “I fear you may be right.”

  “Of course I’m right, you silly man.” She tapped him playfully on the chest. “Come on, Garrett. Pretending to fall in love won’t be so horrible. It might even be fun.”

  That remained to be seen. The fact that he wanted to kiss that teasing smile off her lips warned him to step back. Instead, he moved a fraction closer.

  Obviously taking his silence for ascent, Molly beamed. “We’ll set up a list of rules. That way we’ll leave no room for misunderstanding when it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

  Garrett found himself actually contemplating the absurd idea. If he went into a courtship with Molly knowing the end would eventually come, perhaps…yes, perhaps…he could finally put the past behind him and move on with his life.

  “You’ve convinced me. And just to show you how magnanimous I can be, I’ll let you set the first rule, or rather the first variable. We’ll treat this venture the same as one of your formulas.”

  The playful light in her eyes dimmed. “After what happened with Fanny this afternoon, you would trust one of my formulas?”

  He winced at the unmistakable hurt in her tone. “It wasn’t you, or your formula, that changed Fanny’s mind about Reese.”

  “You think not?” She seemed to want more from him.

  “You offered good, solid advice.” He touched her sleeve, let go almost immediately. “I’m sorry I accused you otherwise.”

  “Thank you.” Her smile returned, slowly at first, then came at him full force. “I appreciate you saying so.”

  His chest felt unnaturally tight. His breathing became short and thick and painful.

  Was he actually agreeing to enter into a pretend romance with this woman? “Go on, Molly. Assign the first rule of our so-called courtship.”

  She thought for a moment, her eyes full of something he couldn’t quite name. Mischief, yes, but something more, something that urged him to let down his guard, to take a chance, to forget all about correctness and simply…let…go.

  Perhaps this wasn’t a wise idea, after all.

  “If we’re going to do this,” she said before he could find the words to beg off, “we do it right. No half measures. That’s the first variable. We go all in.”

  “All in?”

  “You know, like always, we jump into this venture with everything we’ve got, no holding back. Anything less and Mrs. Singletary will know we’re only faking.”

  Garrett’s chest cinched tighter. No good would come of this. And yet, he found himself saying, “Agreed.”

  Her entire countenance brightened. “Your turn. Set the next rule.”

  He swallowed, reminded himself this game of theirs was a means to an end, a way to regain control of a slippery situation that could easily get out of hand. “When we’re in Mrs. Singletary’s presence, we make every effort to watch one another when the other isn’t looking.”

  “Very clever,” she said. “I like that one a lot.”

  He did, too, especially since he already engaged in the practice. No matter how hard he tried to remain unmoved by Molly, he found himself watching her. Often. Almost all the time.

  “Your turn,” he said, swallowing.

  “Let me see.” She planted her hands on her hips, tapped her toe on the marble floor. Tap, tap, tap.

  A mischievous light flickered across her gaze.

  Garrett’s heart sank. He knew that look. Trouble. She was about to throw them headlong into trouble. And not the good kind. Best to put an end to her shenanigans right now.

  “No, Molly.” He spoke very slowly, very deliberately. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop right there.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “Variable number three—”

  “I’m serious.” He was also doomed. Doomed.

  “Variable…number…three.”

  Garrett struggled to even out his breathing.

  “We let Mrs. Singletary discover us kissing.”

  Madness. Utter madness. He’d never recover. He’d enjoy every minute—oh, yes, he would—but wasn’t that the problem? This venture wasn’t about fun. It was about control. Rigid control. Holding tight to control, as he did in every area of his life.

  Someone had to be the voice of reason. And that someone was him. He opened his mouth to set this woman straight, but Molly took his hand and pulled him close.

  Every thought vanished from his mind.

  “We should start now,” she suggested in that sassy voice he’d dreamed about for far too many years after leaving home.

  “Absolutely not.”

  She tugged him closer.

  “Molly, no.”

  “Consider it practice.”

  They didn’t need practice. Not this kind. “I’ll set the third variable.”

  “It’s already set.” She took his other hand, wrapped both of his arms around her waist.

  He froze. His fingers slowly flexed, once, twice. Then, he simply…let…go and relaxed his hands on her lower back. He was actually going to do this. He was going to kiss her.

  There had to be a prayer to prevent this sort of disaster.

  At the moment, he couldn’t think of one. He couldn’t think at all. Reaction took over and he tugged her closer still.

  She lifted on her toes and placed her lips near his ear. “She’s watching us. On your immediate left.”

  As if to confirm her words, Garrett heard a soft rustle of silk. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he caught Mrs. Singletary ducking behind an oversize planter.

  Something spread through him, something that made him feel reckless, and far too much like the daring boy he’d once been.

  Mrs. Singletary wanted a show? He’d give her a show.

  Heart thudding in his chest, Garrett blinked into Molly’s blue, blue eyes. A mistake. He felt the air constrict around them, as if some invisible force was pushing them together.

  “Might as well make this look good…” he murmured, lowering his head toward hers.

  * * *

  Molly nestled deeper into Garrett’s embrace as if she’d been waiting for this moment all her life, as if she’d been waiting for him all her life.

  Not too far from the truth.

  This is just pretend, she reminded herself. A ruse to keep Mrs. Singletary from pushing them into a relationship neither of them wanted.

  Or rather, a relationship one of them didn’t want. Molly didn’t have quite the same aversion as Garrett seemed to have.

  His head lifted slightly away from hers.

  Had he changed his mind? Was he not going to kiss her, after all? The thought no more materialized than his mouth closed over hers.

  A sigh worked its way up from the bottom of her toes and stalled in her throat.

  Why did this kiss have to feel so…right?

  Only pretend.

  A clock chimed from somewhere in the house, announcing the hour. Midnight. The start of a new day.

  A new beginning, a new—

  Garrett broke the kiss and stepped back. Nothing but air stood between them now.

  And a whole lot of history.

  Molly gulped. “I…” She lost track of what she’d intended to say.

  What could she say?

  That their kiss had felt real? That this moment felt real?

  At least Garrett looked as shaken as she felt. But then he gave a slow blink, visibly fought off a shudder and cleared his expression completely. “That should convince her.”

  Oh. Yes. They’d put on this little show for Mrs. Singletary’s benefit. “Is she still watching us?”

  His gaze darted to a spot over her shoulder. “Yes.”

  Looking quite weary, he gathered Molly against him. He was going to kiss her? Again?

  But they still had to decide on variable number four. Although…since they were a
lready here…

  She slid her arms around his neck.

  Anticipation welled up in her and she closed her eyes. Waited.

  Instead of lowering his lips to hers, Garrett pressed them against her ear.

  “Your employer is a blatant eavesdropper.”

  His voice sounded amused.

  Her heart plummeted and she forced out a short laugh. “We all have our weaknesses.”

  “Is that so?” he whispered in her ear. “What’s your greatest weakness, Molly?”

  You. This. Us. None of which were responses she cared to share with him. Ever. “Who says I have one?”

  He laughed softly, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest. “Oh, you have one, possibly even two. But right now you’re safe to keep them to yourself.” He unwound his arms from her waist. “She’s gone. Good night, Molly.”

  He pressed a brief kiss to her forehead and left her standing alone in the entryway, her heart in her throat, her breathing hitched.

  Before she could review any of what had just happened between them, Mrs. Singletary called out her name.

  Molly turned at the sound. The widow had moved to the second floor and now hovered over the balcony, innocence exemplified. “Before you run off to bed, I’d like a quick word. Join me in the drawing room, will you?”

  “Of course.”

  Head fuzzy, knees weak, Molly commandeered the stairs at a slow, steady pace. When she entered the drawing room, her employer ushered her into the empty seat beside her.

  At the same moment Molly sat, Mrs. Singletary took her hand. “You, my dear, have not been completely honest with me.”

  She softened the reproach with a gentle smile.

  “No, I suppose not.” Wasn’t withholding pertinent information the same as lying?

  “You allowed me to think Mr. Mitchell was nothing special to you, that he was merely the brother of your friends.” She released Molly’s hand. “But you both admitted here tonight that you were once close. I wonder. Just how close were you?”

  Realizing further evasion was useless, Molly skimmed a stray hair off her face. “We were in love. But it was a long time ago. Seven years, to be exact.”

  “Young love can be very…trying.”

  “Though we’d been friends first, we didn’t fall in love gradually, nothing so simple. It was as if lightning struck. We were really good as a couple, even better than we’d been as friends. But what had started out strong—” a shiver moved along her spine “—ended just as quickly.”

  “So it ended badly.” It wasn’t posed as a question, but Mrs. Singletary seemed to be waiting for an answer.

  “That would be an accurate statement.” If she’d been the whimpering type, she would do so now. The horrible words they’d flung at one another were as fresh in her mind as when they’d first been uttered. “There was so much anger between us.”

  She could admit that now, could own up to the fact that she’d been full of hurt and pride, as unwilling to ask Garrett to stay as he’d been to ask her to become his wife and leave town with him.

  What if he’d have asked?

  Would she have gone with him?

  Yes.

  Maybe.

  She didn’t know. God help her. She didn’t know.

  A sob stole up her throat. She pressed her lips together to prevent its exit.

  “Molly, don’t torture yourself like this. You were only a child at the time.”

  “Not that young. We were both old enough to know what we wanted out of life. I wanted Garrett. He wanted to make a name for himself, prove he was equal to his older brothers. I encouraged him to go away to school. And he did. Without me.”

  “Did you promise to wait for his return?”

  She shook her head. “I wanted him to ask me. I thought he might. I really thought he would. But he didn’t. He just…left.”

  “Did you ask him to stay?”

  “No.” She shook her head again. “He needed to leave so he could make his own way in the world. I couldn’t ask him to choose between me and the future I believed the Lord was calling him to.”

  Mrs. Singletary touched her arm. “Do you still love him?”

  Did it matter? She’d been so hurt, so lonely after Garrett had left, she’d accepted two offers of marriage. Two terrible missteps.

  Garrett had made none.

  “It’s too late,” she muttered half to herself.

  “It’s never too late,” Mrs. Singletary said gently. “I know all might seem lost, but I truly believe the Lord has a very special plan in store for you. One He’s already set in motion. You will soon be happily settled.”

  What a wonderful, hopeless thought.

  “Perhaps I’m not capable of loving with my entire heart,” she said, revealing her darkest fear in that smattering of words.

  “Oh, Molly, you dear, dear girl.” Mrs. Singletary pulled her into her arms and held tight. “You are a beautiful, treasured child of God, full of kindness and compassion and, yes, love.”

  Molly laid her head on the widow’s shoulder and sniffed, the ache in her throat making words impossible.

  “As you yourself always say, we love because God first loved us,” Mrs. Singletary reminded her. “You should listen to your own advice.”

  A spark of hope ignited, the flame nothing more than a glowing ember. “You really think I’m capable of loving a man the way you loved your Mr. Singletary?”

  “I have no doubt.” She set Molly away from her, stared intently into her eyes. “I’m going to make you a promise, my dear. One I have every intention of keeping.”

  Not sure what to expect, Molly gave a vague smile.

  “Upon my word, your next engagement shall be your last.”

  Chapter Nine

  Calling himself all kinds of fool, Garrett entered the newly renovated Hotel Dupree with a hard shove to the heavy, ornate door. His feet felt unnaturally leaden as he slogged into the large atrium recently added to the majestic building.

  His thoughts in turmoil, he shifted his gaze to the right, to the left, back to the right. But no matter how much he studied the elegant lobby, his mind refused to settle.

  Was it any wonder?

  When he’d left for work this morning, his life had been on a calm, predictable course. His sister had been engaged to a good, decent man and Molly had been exactly where she belonged. In the past.

  A mere handful of hours later, Fanny was no longer engaged to Reese, Molly was back in Garrett’s life with a vengeance and he’d lost a large portion of his renowned control.

  One kiss, one soul-twisting, ill-thought-out kiss, and his guts were tied up in knots within knots. He’d gone years without experiencing the sensation. He’d planned to go several more. Say, fifty.

  He should have taken the job in St. Louis.

  Riding the edge of temper, he moved deeper into the lobby, noted he had the area to himself.

  Good. He wanted to be alone. He was used to being alone. He liked being alone.

  Regardless of what Mrs. Singletary had intimated with her adroit line of questioning, Garrett was comfortable with his own company. He was a thinking man by nature, or was now, best suited to putting words on a page and unraveling complicated legal language.

  He squared his shoulders and veered in the direction of the elevators, perfectly content to face the rest of the evening alone.

  He hardly noticed the rich fabrics on the furniture he passed by, or the expensive mahogany paneling on the walls, or the polished marble floors beneath his feet.

  Overall, the hotel’s decor was too lavish for his taste. A men’s boardinghouse would have suited his needs just fine, but as an associate in a prestigious law firm he was required to project a certain image.

  Eventually, Garrett would buy a house of his own. Not yet, though. A house needed a family. And a family started with a wife. Garrett had no intention of marrying anytime soon. Of course, if Mrs. Singletary had her way, he’d be married off in a month, and his future bride
would be Molly.

  Molly.

  At one time, she would have been his pick, too.

  You are not going to fall for her again, he told himself firmly. You came home to be near family, not Molly.

  Not Molly.

  He nearly had himself convinced when he caught sight of a familiar blond head bent over the reception desk. “Fanny?”

  She lifted her chin, grimaced. “Hello, Garrett.”

  Her eyes were as sad as they’d been this afternoon. And he felt just as helpless in the face of all that pain. Frustration made his voice sound hollow. “What are you doing here?”

  “I should think that obvious.” A similar hint of annoyance flattened her tone. “I’m working.”

  Her answer only increased his confusion. “At this hour?” He dipped his hands in his pockets. “You never take the evening shift.”

  Her shoulders moved in a gesture of careless indifference. “The new owner is arriving in a few days. I thought I’d get the books in order.”

  “It couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?”

  “No.”

  He held her stare.

  “Oh, all right, if you must know.” She placed her pencil carefully on the counter. “I couldn’t bear another moment in the boardinghouse. The walls were closing in on me.”

  There was something in her eyes, something that looked like suppressed anger mixed with equal parts frustration and female impatience.

  “Did Callie go too far, say something she shouldn’t have?”

  The question set off Fanny’s temper like a match to a tinderbox. “She’s convinced I’m making a mistake.” Her shoulders slumped forward. “What does she know about mistakes? Callie always does the right thing and makes the right decision.”

  So had Fanny. Until today. “Take a break,” he urged.

  She hesitated a beat. Then her expression closed. “I can’t…I’m really busy.” She picked up her pencil and concentrated on the ledger beneath her hand. “Everything must be in order for Mr. Hawkins’s arrival.”