Three Reasons to Wed

by Helen Lacey

  “Grady...” She whispered the word against his mouth, completely compliant and wistful.

  “I want to make love to you,” he said, kissing her throat hotly. “I want it so much I can’t think straight.”

  “I want that, too,” she admitted.

  They got inside the house in about thirty seconds and made it three steps into the hallway before he kissed her again. And again. Marissa’s hands were feverish as she touched him, tugging his shirt from his jeans. They kissed and walked at the same time, straight toward the living room. Grady supported her weight as they dropped to the floor in front of the big fireplace, still kissing, still touching, oblivious to anything other than pure, unadulterated need.

  She stripped off his shirt and clutched at him, holding him as close as she could. Her T-shirt disappeared quickly and he dispensed with her bra with amazing dexterity. He moaned low in his throat as he bent his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. His breath and tongue were hot and erotic against her sensitive skin, and she arched her back. He caressed her other breast as he continued to gently lick one with his tongue. It was torture. Glorious, enjoyable torture that made her mindless with need. Then his mouth trailed down, lower, across her rib cage and to her belly. He circled his tongue around her navel, and the feeling was so intense she almost screamed. He unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down past her hips and calves and then over her feet. Her briefs followed quickly and then he was kissing her lower, and lower still. Until his mouth was on her in a way that was mind-blowingly erotic and she became a quivering wreck, so gratified that she could only say his name over and over as wave after wave of pleasure rushed through her.

  His mouth moved down her thighs and then up over her hips and back to her breasts, and her aching nipples begged for more. He continued like that for over half an hour, and taking, she discovered, gave its own reward. There was no mistaking the desire Grady had for her. No way to deny the way his body reacted to her pleasure. It was like a narcotic, tempting her again and again. And it gave her the courage to touch him in return, to seek out ways to drive him crazy. To tease and torment and then finally take him inside her in a way that was so intimate, so intense, that once they were spent they collapsed in a heap on the rug and didn’t say a word for over five minutes.

  “Are you okay?”

  Grady’s voice stirred Marissa from her sexual haze. “Fine. You?”

  “I’m not sure my legs are gonna work for the next half hour or so.”

  She smiled. “We do seem to do this really well.”

  “We certainly do.” He reached across and grabbed her hand and held it against his chest. “Does this give me any leverage?”

  Marissa sighed contentedly and traced her fingertips through the soft hair on his chest. “You could probably get me to agree to pretty much anything right now.”

  “Anything?”

  She dug her nails in a little. “Anything except that.”

  “You don’t know what I was going to say.”

  “Sure I do,” she replied and closed her eyes. “You were going to tell me what a great mom I would make and then say how you would be a faithful, loyal husband. Right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I do know that, Grady. I know you’re nothing like Simon. I know you would never cheat or lie or physically hurt me.”

  “Then make things right,” he said quietly. “Just because it’s what the girls want and we have this incredible chemistry, that doesn’t mean either of us is settling, Marissa. Many people start out with less when they get married.”

  Temptation swept across her skin. It would have been the easiest thing in the word to say yes. Refusing him was harder. But she stayed strong. He was so wrapped up in trying to make his daughters happy, he couldn’t see it was a disaster waiting to happen. Make things right. It was as meaningless as his first marriage proposal.

  “No.”

  He jackknifed into a sitting position. “No?”

  Marissa sat up and grabbed her clothes. “You should go.”

  “Kicking me out isn’t going to change anything, Marissa.”

  “It’ll mean you’re not here,” she said and got to her feet, holding her clothes in front of herself guiltily. “And that’s a good start.”

  Grady grabbed his jeans as he stood and then quickly pulled them on. “You’re being unreasonable. I thought you...” His words trailed and he sighed heavily. “I thought you loved the girls.”

  “I do love them.”

  “But not enough to make them happy.”

  Marissa scowled at him. “That’s a really low blow, Grady. Do you know how this sounds? Like you’d do anything for your daughters, and that includes saddling yourself with me. When we both know that if Liz were alive, this whole idea would be—”

  “Liz isn’t alive,” he said quickly, harshly. “What do you want me to say, Marissa? That if Liz were still here none of this would have happened? Of course it wouldn’t have happened. I loved my wife and I was faithful to her and our marriage. And while she was alive I didn’t look at you or any other woman in that way. But she’s gone,” he reminded her, his voice filled with frustration and a kind of weary rage. “Gone...and I have to move on and find a different life. We both do.”

  Second best. A consolation prize. A mother for his grieving daughters.

  And not one word about wanting her as she longed to be wanted.

  Marissa’s heart turned to stone.

  “Just go.”

  He remained where he was, his shirt and boots in his hand, the top button of his jeans undone and his hair looking as if she’d been running her fingers through it. She began to dress and was just about to repeat her request for him to leave when there was a knock on the front door. She froze and stared at him, still half-dressed. She wasn’t expecting any visitors. Marissa quickly got back into her clothes and straightened her mussed hair.

  “I’ll get it,” he said finally and disappeared from the room.

  She heard the door open. Heard male voices. And then Grady was back in the room.

  With her father right behind him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Busted. Grady felt about eighteen years old. He knew what Rex must be thinking, and the older man had every right to have that thought. Grady remained by the doorway, thrusting his arms into his shirt and shoving his feet into his boots while Rex walked past him and into the room.

  “I’d like to talk with my daughter,” Rex said, unsmiling. “Alone.”

  Marissa was still by the fireplace. Her expression was cool and uncompromising. And looking as if she wasn’t about to be swayed by anything...or anyone. “Oh, I think we all need to hear this.”

  Rex nodded slowly, came around the sofa and dropped into the seat. “Okay.”

  Grady stayed by the door and met Marissa’s gaze. She crossed her arms and remained standing. “I’m listening.”

  “I was twenty-three when I met your mother,” Rex explained quietly. “Janie Ellis was... She was the most beautiful girl I’d ever met. But I ain’t gonna lie to you and say it was more than it was. I was in town for a couple of weeks and we spent that time together. Then I left.”

  “What a lovely story,” she said coldly.

  “I ain’t sugarcoating it,” Rex replied. “I was young and more interested in horses and drinkin’ than settling down. I moved around a lot, working on ranches in Iowa and Missouri. And then six years back I came through town again because I was heading to Wyoming to see an old friend. I asked around about Janie and that’s when I found out about you.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “How can you be sure I am your daughter?”

  Rex half smiled. “I got a job at the Parker ranch a couple of weeks after I got to town,” he said and glanced toward Grady. “It was kinda like providence, I gues
s. When I found out that you and Miss Liz were friends and that Miss Violet lived next door, I knew I was doin’ the right thing by staying.” He sighed heavily. “And then I saw you one time you came to visit. I took one look at you and I knew. You’re the spittin’ image of your grandma.”

  Marissa’s eyes widened. “I have a grandmother?”

  Rex nodded. “Yep, my mother lives in Nevada. And you have three aunts and a whole load of cousins, too.”

  Grady saw Marissa’s expression shift for a moment. Family...that’s what she’d be thinking. It was what she’d always craved.

  Then be a family with me...

  Grady stopped himself from racing forward and taking her in his arms. She didn’t want him—that was plain enough. And she had used every excuse to not accept his marriage proposal. But he knew the only thing standing in the way of them being a family was Marissa.

  “Your grandma sure would like to meet you,” Rex said quietly.

  “Really?” Her brows rose. “And what do you want, Rex? Absolution? Forgiveness?”

  There was hurt and pain and bitterness in her voice and Grady ached for her. But she had to walk through this moment on her own. She had to meet Rex halfway, or not at all.

  “I only want to get to know you,” Rex replied quietly. “That’s all.”

  “To what end?” she asked. “So we can play happy-family and pretend the last thirty years haven’t happened? Well, I can’t do that. I can’t pretend... I can’t act like it’s okay that you’ve been living in this town for six years and didn’t tell me who you were.”

  “I couldn’t,” he replied. “Your aunt said you—”

  “Are you blaming Aunt Violet?” she asked, eyes blazing. “It was Aunt Violet who looked after me when my mother died. It was Aunt Violet who was here. And she didn’t just happen upon me by chance. She took me in when I was twelve years old and cared for me when I needed someone. And let’s be honest,” she went on, relentless. “If you had known about me, would it have made any difference?”

  She was clearly anguished and Grady had to fight the urge he had to shield her from the pain she was feeling. But she was strong...stronger than she realized. And only if she faltered would he step in.

  “I’d like to think I would have done the right thing,” Rex replied.

  She laughed humorlessly. But Grady wasn’t fooled. She was breaking. “Well, we’ll never know.”

  Grady’s gut lurched out of sympathy for the older man and out of the need to protect the woman he loved. “Marissa, maybe—”

  “You don’t get to have a say in this, Grady,” she snapped and then looked at her father. “In fact, I think you should both leave.”

  Grady expelled a frustrated breath. Rex stood up, nodded his head wearily and walked from the room. When he heard the front door open and close again, Grady took a few steps toward her and shoved his shirt into his jeans.

  She was glaring at him.

  “Why are you still here?”

  He came to a halt. “Why are you pushing everyone away?”

  “I’m not.”

  Grady nodded. “Oh, yeah, you are. What are you so afraid of, Marissa?”

  “Nothing,” she shot back. “And I want you to go.”

  “I’m not going to walk away from you,” he said steadily. “However much you keep telling me to go. I get that you’re feeling hurt and confused about finding out you have a father—a father who wants to be part of your life—but Rex isn’t going anywhere, either. He’s a good man, Marissa, and he deserves a chance here. Give him that chance...meet him in the middle. Stop being so stubborn and hardheaded.”

  Her jaw tightened. “I haven’t asked for your advice.”

  Grady sighed heavily. “You know, not all men are out to hurt and betray you,” he said, and her eyes instantly flashed to attention. “I think that somehow, while your aunt and your mom were trying to protect you, they also made you feel like no man could be trusted.”

  “That’s not—”

  “And marrying that suit probably confirmed what you believed,” he said, cutting off her protest. “But we’re not all tarred with the same brush, Marissa. We don’t all leave. We don’t all cheat. We don’t all hit. Most of us try to do the right thing. But if you don’t give any man a chance, how are you going to know that?” He sighed and felt his throat thicken with emotion. “Everything you want, the family you’ve craved since you were a little girl—it’s here, right in front of you. All you’ve got to do is take it.”

  She shook her head and her eyes were shining with tears. “I can’t. None of it’s real.”

  “It’s as real as you make it, Marissa. Don’t turn your back on your dad... He needs you.”

  And I need you, too...

  “Please, Grady—just go. Close the door on your way out.”

  Defeated, Grady sighed again, turned and let himself out. He closed the door as she asked and met Rex by the front gate.

  “Is she hurtin’?” Rex asked quietly.

  Grady nodded. “Yeah, but she’s stubborn, too,” he said and half smiled. “Kinda like her old man, I guess.”

  Rex grinned wearily. “Well, I can’t expect her to change years of thinkin’ in a week. I reckon I’ve just gotta wait for her to come to me when she’s ready.”

  “I hope you don’t have to wait too long,” Grady said as he moved through the gate and walked toward his truck.

  “What about you?” Rex asked, stepping in beside him. “You givin’ up on her?”

  Grady shrugged and pulled the keys from his pocket. “She’s made it clear how she feels.”

  “I ain’t askin’ about her,” Rex said, his eyes crinkling. “I’m askin’ about you. Looks to me like you’re in love with my daughter.”

  “It doesn’t matter how it looks,” Grady said and opened the driver’s door. “She doesn’t want what I offered.”

  “I’m not so sure. I mean, she’s mad at you, that’s obvious. But maybe it ain’t what you offered,” Rex said and tilted his head. “Maybe it’s more in the way you offered it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Rex chuckled. “I’ve been around awhile and I still don’t know a whole lot about women, but looks to me like what you don’t know...well, I reckon that would almost fill a library.”

  He sauntered off toward his old pickup and left Grady by his truck before he had a chance to respond. Grady waited until Rex had driven off, then got into his truck. He gripped the steering wheel and glanced toward the house. She was impossible. Unreachable. Maddening. The best thing he could do was forget all about the foolish idea of having a future with Marissa. She’d kicked him out and told him repeatedly that she wasn’t interested.

  Only an idiot would keep going back for more.

  Grady drove to his mother’s to stay for lunch and pick up the girls. His mother and Brant were both in the kitchen when he arrived and his daughters were in the playroom keeping themselves occupied.

  “Everything okay?” Colleen asked.

  “Fine,” he replied and sat down. Then he asked a question that had been burning in his gut since he’d left Marissa’s. “Do I strike you as someone who doesn’t know anything about women?”

  Brant laughed out loud and his mother regarded him with genuine concern.

  “Well,” Colleen said as she prepared a plate of sandwiches, “I imagine you know about as much as most men do. What brought this about?”

  He shrugged. “Something Rex said.”

  “I take it Marissa still hasn’t come around?” Brant asked.

  “No,” he replied. “And doesn’t seem likely to. I thought she’d jump at the chance to be around the girls full-time. I guess I was wrong.”

  His mother stopped cutting the bread and the knife clanged on the counter. Grady looked acros
s the room and saw Colleen shaking her head.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Rex is right,” his mother said. “You don’t know anything about women.”

  “I don’t know what you—”

  “If you put it like that, no wonder she turned you down. Just because Liz was pragmatic and unromantic and didn’t like fuss and you agreed to get married over a beer at the Loose Moose doesn’t mean all women are so easily persuaded. Did you happen to tell Marissa that you’re in love with her and that’s the reason why you want to marry her?”

  Grady’s skin heated. “Well...no...not exactly.”

  Brant laughed again. “What happened to you being the sentimental one?”

  Pragmatic and unromantic? True, Liz had been sensible and thrifty. Even on their wedding day she’d complained about the cost of the bouquets and catering. He’d laughed at the time, and again over the ensuing years when she’d insisted that she didn’t want or need flowers or jewelry or anything she regarded as overcommercialized trappings. They’d been together since high school and the tempo of their courtship had been a steady, easy kind of ride. They’d talked and planned and mapped out their life together. They’d been friends and lovers and then husband and wife, all with very little effort on his part, he realized.

  You’re about as romantic as a load of laundry...

  Marissa’s words came back and hit him squarely in the chest.

  I’m a girl... I believe in all that stuff. And I want it. I want the flowers and the music and the poetic love notes and all of that sugary nonsense...

  He’d dismissed it at the time, going back to using logic and her love for his daughters as a reason for them to get married. And every time she’d refused him. Even when it was obvious they were perfect for one another. Okay...maybe perfect was a stretch. Maybe it was more like want and need and desire and a kind of soul-wrenching longing that had somehow turned into love. At least, for him. And Grady had been so wrapped up in wanting her and getting her to see that they could make a family together he’d been blind to one undisputable fact...she wanted more. From him. And since his pride had been battered by her refusal, he hadn’t taken the time to really think about what she was saying, over and over. She didn’t want to settle. He’d believed she’d meant on him. On them.